#{[ v. tba ]}

[stickytm]

“that was a brave thing you did.” || @watsonjackpot

" me, brave? couldn't be. " peter muses, his voice dancing with a hint of sarcasm. he makes a point not to look her in the eye, sidestepping the truth the best he could. yesterday he'd asked her to coffee, a moment to catch up & caffeinate. unfortunately, some guy had fashioned himself into a would-be supervillain & duty called. spider-man had places to be. peter said where there was spider-man, there were pictures to be taken.

he had left her side in a rush to fulfil his bugle-given job. or so he claimed. in reality, he had traded his camera for spandex & set it up to steal a few snapshots of spider-man becoming well acquainted with the taste of concrete. it wasn't his finest hour & he wouldn't call the fight a win... but at least he had gotten a few solid snapshots of his fantastic failure.

today, he was covered in bruises & was sorer than he would ever admit. he feels more than a little bit guilty, lying to her. he knows she's stronger than his half-baked lie. peter, however, is not. so he offers a crooked smile & continues, " it's all in a day's work. besides, a paycheck from the bugle is a great motivator."

[kingscyrus]

@maljefe “… I think you can fit.”

After speaking, there was a slight pause, as he couldn't help but think of something else. "Could you clarify where you think I fit?" the king inquired. Giving a few sets of blinks as he awaited her answer.

[playshrp]

cont. || @thelittlestrcse

" rude? or the truth, " domeric muses. the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement. he can't quite find a smile, but he can appreciate her curiosity. to find any level of directness in the red keep was a wonder, especially with the king's wedding on the horizon, " the old gods themselves wouldn't be able to keep me in the ground. there's too much work to do to die. "

he walks with a stiff spine, his own hands folded neatly before him. still, there was a certain grace to his strides. he was always more comfortable far from home. it wasn't near as cold & there was a certain freedom that came with it, " how many people have asked the same question with my back turned, i wonder? it is quite refreshing to be met with such... bluntness. "

[anquenin]

❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 

"ah well...not just anyone's company...people can be so terribly exhausting." astarion does not stop looking at his phone until he starts speaking. rose an ever growing mystery slowly unfolding before him. he's hiding here, like a coward. not ready to face the music so to speak, unnerved to think of what could possibly happen to him if cazador knew where he was exactly. it has become a force of habit, running off to rose's flat. which is sometimes empty, but it feels better. as barren as it is at times, it is better than rotting inside his own place, haunted by the man who essentially owns him. he had been in the couch, not doing anything, unable to. injury barring him from what he actually wants to do. "-so, now that you are here. how was your day?" he asks, to fill the silence with something other than just nothing. to maybe get his mind out of the cycle of thoughts that do not let go off him. "-do make it interesting, though if you please. if my brain feels anymore boredom i'm afraid i'll succumb to it and die."

@badwo1f

[elliscousland]

❝ why should i tell you my name? you haven’t told me yours. ❞ from zeal || @roll4fate!

ellis raises his brows, careful to keep a bit of distance between the two of them. they looked unlike anyone ellis had ever met before & that left ellis with a strange mix of fascination & fear for them. truthfully, he hadn't thought far enough to be making introductions. all he could think of was how terribly his head hurt & how little he knew about the stranger before him. only one of those thoughts could be solved immediately & so he had asked ( no, demanded. ) the other's name. he deflates, just a bit, at their words.

" you can call me ellis, " he shares, though trepidation still shimmers in his blue eyes. half of him is tempted to share his full name, his position in his family… maybe boasting that he was a cousland could make him look tougher than he felt. his fear stops him, hesitant to share that he was the secondborn son of the dead. he was sure the other would keep a few secrets close to their chest as well. it looked like they would have plenty, " there. perhaps now you might indulge me? "

[sporefound]

"this room is so suffocating." || @mindhallow

" don't be a baby, " nita insists, reaching for a swollen book nearly out of her reach. it was resting on a shelf near the ceiling of an old shack. the edges of the paper are lined with mold, she's sure it's been wet more than once. but she opens it up anyways, examining the black constellations that have formed in between handwritten passages.

the air is thick, still & sweet. given enough time, she would gleefully map out the fungus that had sprung up in every corner of this desolate place. it must have been someone's home once, long ago. what stories had these walls lost? some of them were in this book. the writing was in ink, faded but half legible. her mind races just dreaming of it. she curbs her curiosity when she looks to wish, who seems considerably less excited, " surely you can last just a few minutes more. then you can pick our next musty spot to explore. "

[xbadnews]

if i fail, i'll fall apart. || @saintsdawn

percy cannot help but feel a pang of sympathy for florence. it's a sentiment he can relate to, in a way. so well as he was doing well, so long as he succeeded… he couldn't help but ride a high that came with that. losing, however, brought him crashing down & quickly. he wouldn't call himself fragile & had difficulty associating her with the concept but pride was a funny thing.

" people like us don't get to fall apart. not for long. " he muses. heroism had not always been his path, his priority. but success had been, " we find reasons to keep going. even if it feels like we can't. "

[xfindingtrouble]

@softersinned - plotted!

They had arrived with the setting sun, when the stars had begun to sparkle against a near-dark sky. He & Scanlan had met with a girl in a town not too far from here. She had been polite, courteous as she lead them down a well-trodden but hidden path, twisting through the woods in what felt like every direction. Percy had poked & prodded at her for information, The girl had spoken quite fondly of her mistress. She made this trek every evening, she had claimed, to help her lady style her hair. She was paid well, or at least it seemed that way. She looked to be well fed, well-dressed. Percy's initial impression was that their guide likely wanted for very little, which had driven him to think she was taken care of by her employer.

When they finally break through the treeline, they are met by intimidating walls that stretched around a very old castle. Were there more light than the waning sun, Percy would have indulged in exploring the magnificent architecture. There was something distantly romantic about the way ivy had invaded the worn stone that had stood stubbornly against the elements for as long as it had been there. Or at least, this is what he assumed. He continues to soak in the finery as they pass through unfamiliar halls, exchanging idle conversation about the lady of the castle. Scanlan had directed him to this proprietor of curses, lead him there even. 'Astoria is good fun,' he had boasted, they had worked together more than once in the past. She doesn't get out much, Scanlan had claimed. She stayed to the shadows with her own longevity in mind. Percy could appreciate this, despite his misgivings about dealing with someone of her nature.

Despite the tightness in Percy's stomach, there were a hundred other things to worry about right now. Like how Scanlan seems to gain an extra bounce to his step when they approach what must be a familiar door. He throws it open with a boldness Percy had come to expect from the little man. Percy takes a long moment to take in the grand library they had entered, nearly as magnificent as the woman draped across one of the couches in the room. The scene reminded him more of a story, a painting, than life itself. There was an old power she wields as she pushes herself from her cushions to greet Scanlan. The man greets their host fondly, Percy keeping a purposeful distance between himself & their odd affections. It gives Percy room to process the scene at hand. There is grandeur to the room itself, of course... but there is something else that leaves him breathless. It is strange to see the woman here, before him, dressed in black & gold finery. Her loose curls fall comfortably around her face, framing a face that could almost be human. Almost, being the keyword. He was not sure what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. Perhaps someone grayer, with less fire twinkling in their eyes.

Percy had been hesitant to seek out her assistance. Dealings with the undead rarely went well. But he was desperate & woefully unprepared to deal with a demon on his own. He was still grappling with the fact that he had allowed such a creature to have any sway over him to begin with. He had nearly killed his sister, his friends, himself. It left him feeling strangely hollow, the invasive scar of Orthax still lingering in the back of his mind. Even so, he missed his weapon. Every shot from Dr. Anna Ripley's bastardized version of his invention was a reminder that he had made this technology available to the world. He had inspired a madwoman with his bloodshed & she would likely be one of many. He was eager to return to the familiarity of 'The List ' if it could be saved

After giving them a few moments to indulge in familiarities, Percy makes a point to clear his throat. Draw attention to the task at hand. Of course, he is a bit uncomfortable. The sentiment shows in the stiffness of his shoulders. He introduces himself in earnest, but Scanlan clarifies that he answers to Percy just as well. It warms the room, just a bit. There had been an indescribable chill that had settled inside him on the journey here, the way dusk fell so peacefully reminding him of the nature of the creature he was about to face. His limited dealings with vampires had often left him angry, bloody, longing for vengeance. It made him loathe to think he would share his invention with such a creature. 'The List' is a weapon that could change the very state of the world if it fell into the wrong hands. when he had made it, he didn't care about any greater implications. He had been powerless & had found control in whatever way he could. Now, the very thing that had propagated his retribution was tucked away in his bag.

There was another reason he was hesitant; The List's history was deeply interwoven with Percy's very being. It's what had driven him to stop Scanlan from tossing it in a vat of acid beneath his home, despite that bard's protests. He had a hunch, Scanlan had claimed & it had not taken much investigation to confirm Orthax's lingering presence. Percy supposed he knew as well, when the lingering ache of his hatred flared in the back of his skull. Percy had been wielding a subverted version of his preferred weapon, crafted from scraps he had taken from a mad woman. he was eager to have his preferred weapon back. Astoria had expressed great interest in whatever was attached to the list in their brief communication prior to this. He hoped his impatience to solve this problem wouldn't be his downfall. Percy asks Scanlan to clear the room, which he nearly protests. Astoria knows him well, as she directs him to a handful of filthy books ( Which Percy only recognized from a private familiarity with the titles, of which he would deny endlessly. ) The bard leaves the room, balancing a stack of books in his arms before Percy finally takes a seat across from Astoria.

Though they are polite, expressing & trading pleasantries, there is a tension that hangs in the air between them. Percy's hesitance versus Astoria's fascination. Both parties shift to the edge of their seats, dancing around the subject that brought them together for what seems like too long. The impending tightness in Percy's chest threatens to send him running with his tail between his legs, which would not be entirely unlike him. Unfortunately, it would be terribly unbecoming of him, so instead of following his instinct, he brings something else up. A gift. Scanlan had suggested Percy bring her some wine ( ' You're a wine guy, right? Astoria will love that, ' ) so Percy had done just that. He had brought two bottles, in fact, though now that he was faced with presenting them he felt strangely nervous. what was left of his palms were sweaty he finally drags his voice up his throat & forces it through his teeth.

" I've brought a gift, as a gesture of goodwill. " Percy offers a tight smile that forces the corners of his mouth upwards. The woman was not unlikable by any means, but that was the part of his impending nerves. Conversation was becoming easier with her, she had a sharp wit that stimulated Percy's mind. It had shown in the brief interaction they had shared thus far, leaving him curious but wary. He could not forget what he was dealing with. What he was doing here. Gloved hands reach into the bag he had been permitted to enter with. From it, he pulls a bottle of wine. Then another. He hands them directly to her, watching for her reaction from the corner of his vision as he reaches for one final item. He hesitates before pulling a third item from his bag as well, setting it on the table between them. It is a box of intricate design, a golden lock keeping it's contents inside it's dark wooden interior. There is an engraving on the top that makes Percy's mouth feel strangely dry. It does every time he looks at it. ' The list ' is carved into the fine wood, marking what lies within.

" Wine makes these sorts of things a bit easier, after all. " He hopes she will decide to indulge now, perhaps even share. It may make the negotiations easier, as he would be sure the list's origin would come up. That, he was looking forward to least of all. He had found anything else he could to lament over until now, but the situation at hand was becoming more real by the second. He lets a breath out, finally leaning back in his chair. he runs a gloved hand through white hair, peering at her over double-lensed glasses, " Formalities aside, I suppose we have some business to tend to. "

[hatredcurse]

"He looks miserable, poor soul." | @obeliskheart — Juugo

"UHM, excuse you— I am right here. I can hear you, you big idiot," Suigetsu drops whatever 5 drinks he was harvesting to puff himself up, like he was threatening or something. "What 'bout me looks miserable?? I'm lookin' better than you!!"

[melpcmene-arch]

@griefbringers has sent this in: 💋 graves is going to fucking DIE if he doesn't get a kissy from dream RIGHT NOW. don't ask me why or how. | everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse. ( accepting !! )

"Is that what you ask, Little Griefbringer?" It's unusual, so thought the Dream. To be asked of something like that. Something that feels so mundane. Their voice echoes. A chilling tone that would run down your spine. ( Unless you happened to be a subject that is used to their disembodied voice - how it travels through your skull. ) The Dream lets out a thoughtful hum before beckoning the Griefbringer to step closer. "So be it." The Dream then leans forward. "But do be careful what you ask for. Okay? I do not expect you to depend on such mundane affections."

And then their lips are pressed firm to Graves' skull. It was a simple one. It could be a blessing. It could be the opposite. But it was something soft nonetheless.

[xbadnews-a]

❛  please ,  please ,  please -  ❜ @cryptiique

Percy had a mission tonight. It was an astounding display of self-control, one that his instinct demands against, burning for vax at every turn. he was intent on watching Vax come undone. he'd been experimenting with different means of vibration & sensation. this particular creation had a magical touch, it was designed with the thought of external teasing in mind. it was a stepping stone to a bigger project, really. So far, it had performed beautifully. Percy stood over Vax's body, splayed halfway across percy's desk. He holds Vax's legs apart with his own thighs, denying him any friction that wasn't given.

He wanted to prove a point. That his work was very important. He'd spent the last hour or so dragging the vibrator over Vax's body, utilizing any sensitivity he could seek out. Even as he tries to keep track of the performance of the vibrator, he is distracted relentlessly by Vax. Percy did not want to miss a single gasp, cataloging every desperate sigh. Vax demands more concentration with a frantic ' please, please, please. ' Percy almost laughs, giddy. He sticks the pad of his free thumb in Vax's mouth to silence him, just for a moment.

"Oh, darling. You're going to have to be more specific. " Percy prods at Vax. Truthfully, Percy was losing patience, quickly. There was something magnificent about his writhing form, laid out before Percy like a feast. Percy wanted to be inside of him, his pants were grating at best. Perhaps this is why Percy takes his hand back, trailing his knuckles down Vax's chest. He lets out a breath he did not know he'd been holding, consumed.

"Please what? " he leans closer, close enough to feel Vax's ragged breath against his skin. Percy holds the vibrator to the tip of Vax's cock, grinning. his voice is lower now, his gaze relentless, " Do you want me to touch you? fuck you? or something else entirely?"

[kingscyrus]

"... how are you so large?"

Unprompted asks || always accepting

Cyrus has recently come to the realization that his family's lineage has a history of giants. He has long been aware of his height, which sets him apart from most people. While the prevalence of actual giants has declined over time, Cyrus has learned that his forebears included individuals who were even taller than he is. This explains why the Kingdom of his origin appears larger than other locales he has visited. Nonetheless, it is worth noting that over time, certain adaptations have been made to account for the dilution of the Giant gene through interbreeding with other populations.

"I am the product of noble lineage, tracing back to the great giants of old. My bloodline carries their legacy, granting me the stature of both man and giant. It is a blessing bestowed upon me by my ancestors, enabling me to lead with strength and authority.” Responded the King, offering a curl of his lip in a smile. "I regret to say that my physical size makes it difficult to fit into many places." Noted Cyrus, a chuckle following after.

[xhatake]

There was something appealing about teetering on the edge of reality & fantasy. Moments like this were hard to come by, when he could slip into another life & forget about the weight of the world. What surprised him, however, was when he made a familiar connection in this alternative identity. Sukea was an evasive alter-ego, a person who lurked on the edges of many lives... rarely to be known. Which was a given, as he wasn't even real. But he had managed to connect with Obito on a strange level, as this silly 'photographer' of a man. When Sukea's laughter mixed with Obito's, it felt strangely light. Satisfyingly so. There was no expectation for either of them to be anything but themselves, ironically.

Perhaps Kakashi liked this a little too much. Kakashi knew Obito's love for him was as a friend, a brother, an ally. There was a past between them they couldn't ignore, a familiarity that would follow them for the rest of their lives. But Kakashi had admitted to feeling a different sort of draw towards him. Not that it changed anything, of course. He couldn't force Obito to feel any way he didn't on his own. But there was something different that danced on Obito's face when he looked at Sukea. There was a gleam in his eye that reminded Kakashi of a distant memory, a fluttering crush. It was unfair to Obito, but Kakashi had yet to find the courage to tell him the reality of it all.

He knew there was an impending reality that was destined crash down around both of them, but perhaps they can enjoy this moment. This moment when they didn't have any baggage, any past. Just some very hot tea. Gaze drifts with the steam that wafts off of his tea, eventually meeting Obito's dark eyes. It had been longer than he would have liked since he had checked in on him, as either identity. There was a strange guilt that came with coming to him as Sukea, but a terrible sort of safety as well.

" It's been too long, Obito. " It hasn't been all that long. He had spun a story about leaving the village for work, having been tasked with taking photos he had already turned in. In reality, Kakashi had been busy with his duties as Hokage & this was his first free night all week. Maybe this is why he casts his gaze to the side, focusing his intention on a crack in the wall. Maybe he shouldn't have lied. It's time to tell a truth, " I've missed our little talks. "

@abyssaldespair || plotted!

[grazziella]

 @angelsweeps  /  riff  sent:  "  marry  me.  "

 she  stares  at  him  as  if  he  told  her  that  last  night  he'd  grown  a  second  head.  marry  me.  just  outright  like  that.  marry  him.  as  if  that's  something  they've  been  thinking  about  for  ages  now  and  he's  finally  making  the  move.  graziella  wants  to  laugh.  and  cry.  and  scream.  and  faint.  marriage  sounds  so  simple  when  it's  put  into  two  words.  a  beautiful  sort  of  commitment.  like  they're  the  people  that  they're  not.  marriage  is  for  the  people  with  the  white  picket  fences  and  the  dog  and  the  suits  and  skirts  and  steady  jobs.  marriage  is  for  eighteen  year  olds  that  aren't  them,  fresh  out  of  high  school,  pinning  their  girls  and  making  promises  to  their  guys.  

 not  that  marriage  sounds  terrible.  her  parents  were  married.  not  happy,  but  married  with  two  little  kids.  they  weren't  good  for  each  other.  her  ma  liked  to  party  too  much.  her  daddy  wasn't  ready  for  a  family,  despite  what  he  claimed.  grazie  never  knew  what  she  thought  about  marriage  when  she  was  younger.  a  few  of  her  girly  friends  liked  to  play  wedding.  it  was  silly  and  juvenile,  but  a  sweet  thought.  bouquets  of  roses,  white  dresses  with  lace  trimmings,  a  handsome  groom.  maybe  she  wanted  that  at  some  point.  grazie  doesn't  know  what  she  wants  now.  she  used  to  go  from  guy  to  guy,  hoping  something  would  stick.  hoping  for  a  kind  of  love  like  the  married  types  at  least  start  out  having.  none  of  it  was  like  that.  

 she  doesn't  know  how  long  she's  loved  riff  for.  maybe  it  was  while  she  and  tony  were  still  together  that  her  stomach  started  trapping  butterflies  in  it  when  he  smiled  and  when  her  heart  almost  burst  when  she  made  him  laugh.  grazie  broke  things  off  with  tony,  then  two  weeks  later  he  was  plopped  into  a  cell  after  beating  a  poor  kid  half  to  death.  he  was  going  down  a  path  she  had  no  interest  in  following.  yet  part  of  her  wonders  if  some  of  the  reason  for  ending  things  was  because  she  couldn't  stop  staring  at  riff's  blue  eyes.  

 ❝  marry  you?  ❞  the  urge  to  laugh  returns.  ❝  are  you  one  of  those  marrying  types,  riff?  ❞  grazie  tucks  a  stray  hair  out  of  her  face  (  she  never  has  stray  hairs  )  and  pats  her  hands  on  her  capris.  ❝  you,  uh,  you  wanna  get  married?  like  go  up  to  a  priest  and  exchange  vows  type  of  marrying  or  march  down  to  city  hall  and  sign  a  document  type  of  marrying?  this  is  .  .  .  this  isn't  no  joking  matter, ��you  know.  you  better  not  be  playing  me.  you  want  to  get  married?  to  me?  ❞

[elliscousland]

❛ what, am i not allowed to look at you? ❜ @countercharmd

" i don't think fergie likes it, " he muses. ellis cocks a brow, the palm of his hand resting on Fergie's head. the hound is asleep, spread across ellis' lap as if the hulking beast was only a few pounds. ellis is teasing serendipity now & making no attempt to hide it

fergie lets out a deep breath, half a snore & a grin spreads across ellis face. fergie's tongue lolls out, dramatic as ellis when he's pretending to sleep. maybe it's all an act. maybe he's waiting for ellis' word. or maybe, just maybe could he be just asleep as he seems, " see? told you! be careful now, he's in a mood today. "

[sporefound]

[ FIND ] for the taller muse to lift the shorter one by the waist so they can reach something. (From Cietan - 5'10") || @championsofthegate

amanita scarcely has time to think before her feet lift from the ground. she'd been reaching for some fungus, growing right out of her reach. even on the tips of her toes, she was nowhere near her goal. truthfully, she could feel the tension of frustration growing between her ears. she was not quite ready to give up, but she had been about ten seconds from throwing her fist at the tree she was trying to overcome.

it hadn't occurred to her to ask for help. in fact, the thought of doing so was nothing short of humiliating. thankfully, cietan took things into his own hands. ( he was taller than her, a little over half a foot. it was amazing what the extra height could do for her. she only wishes she could steal it from him & grow a couple of inches. )

at first, she feels the delightful relief of success. her impending anger was making the small task seem impossible & she is nothing short of ecstatic when she snatches the growth off of the bark. she shoves her bounty in the pouch at her waist before she's back on the ground. she then turns her fury on cietan when she's back on the ground long enough to realize he had lifted her toward her goal. ( she refused to owe him, she thinks stubbornly. ) she spins on her heel, silver brows knitting on her forehead. she extends a dirt-covered finger & jabs him in the chest.

" i was going to do it myself. " she spews her words like venom. perhaps she is letting off some steam from her previous frustration. perhaps it is unfair. he had helped her, after all. she wrinkles her nose, eyes ablaze.

" i could have. " she lies, trying her very hardest not to be thankful. she liked being up that high & half wishes he would pick her up again. the other half of her is sure she would bite him if he tried.