#〈 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋. 〉 THREADS .

[wyrdhearth]

@selunight : liked for a d&d starter. ➵ kryn of dost (eloquence bard)

❝ it's a bloody shame, ❞ the bard sighed. her orange-black hair rippled like a flame in the setting sun. she observed the druid grove from a distance, the refugees packing their wares, preparing to leave the only sanctuary they had.

❝ kagha and her damn fear politics. I'll tell you somethin', love. halsin wouldn't have let that connivin' snake do all she's doin'. not if he had anythin' to say about it. ❞ kryn's eyes narrowed before a playful glint sparked to life. ❝ say... how'd you like to help me disrupt our dear druid's perfect peace a little? give the little tiefs somethin' to smile about? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

❝ 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐮𝐦… 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬. I didn't really know them. I'd like to, uh... assume they weren't great people all around, let alone parents. ❞ she explains, pushing her glasses further up her nose. astorya tries for an encouraging smile, but has no doubt the effect isn't all she's hoping for. ❝ well... um –– I'm sorry about that. fear can lead to regrettable actions. I'm certain your parents were just... ❞ gods, she isn't great with the comforting. astorya decides to simply trail off and take a long drink from her lukewarm ale.

❝ did you have any friends in the attic? ❞ after a pause, she gestures to the spider residing in her horn, and the little snails and beetles residing within her wooden prosthetic. ❝ when I was alone growing up I spent a lot of time um, getting to know the world around me. this is naru, by the way. she thinks you're very lovely. ❞ the spider in astorya's horn is busy building a web. the edge of a p begins to form in strands of spider silk.

❝ what is your name? ❞

???·:

𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧 –– but on her journey to find her missing child, she’s had to become comfortable with all sorts of… new places. luckily, her… what some might call unnerving appearance has been off-putting to the strangers around her. no one has approached her in the three days sh has been in town. until now.

she smiles ( nervously ) at the redhead nearby, before her question sinks in. ❝ oh! um! not- not really? my parents were serial killers. my adoptive parents are… somewhat nicer. ❞ her head cocks, and a small spider scuttles out from her horn to peer curiously at doric.

❝ your parents locked you in an attic? why ever would they um, do that? ❞

Doric might have come across as JUDGEMENTAL sometimes, but she’d never judge anyone for their appearance, chosen or otherwise. There’s obvious reason for that, of course, but even disregarding her own past, she thinks it wrong to judge someone for something they’re unable to change or help.

“Your parents are serial killers, but you ask ME why mine locked me in an attic?” She then asks, head tilted to the side as she takes the final sip of her drink. Maybe starting a conversation when she’d been on the verge of leaving hadn’t been the best idea.

“They didn’t like the way I looked.” She finally says, “They’re humans, and I’m clearly NOT. Not entirely anyway.”

[wyrdhearth]

@selunight. fable meadows ➵ celeste moonwood.

❝ your temple was beautiful, celeste- ❞ a shame what ruin the cult of the absolute has brought to its doors. not a follower of selûne herself, but appreciative of her values, fable can't help the sympathetic tilt to her lips as she glances sideways at celeste. she sets a hand on her companion's elbow and gives it a squeeze.

❝ we'll right things. can you show us around? perhaps we can try to help you look for clues here for what may have transpired. ❞

[wistcrias]

@seaofechoes​ gets a surprise starter !  niamh a'sionainn ➵ vaedar valarys 

          𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬... 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. wiping the blood off her longsword, niamh kneeled down by one of the hunters’ bodies. his eyes were open and bloodshot, so she allowed him the small mercy of shutting them for him. then she proceeded to rifle through his belongings, searching for some sort of clue as to where the rest of the hunters were located. hells, at this point, finding out even the name of their organization would have been beneficial. but he had to have been a low-ranking scout of some sort, because all he had on him were a couple silver coins, a dagger and bandages for wounds and scrapes. she took the latter, and left him the rest. ❝ there’s nothing on this one. ❞ 

when niamh stood, she turned and noticed something red spreading across vaedar’s shoulder and soaking into his shirt. ❝ you’re bleeding, ❞ she accused, immediately coming closer. ❝ why didn’t you say anything? ❞ no doubt he’d been too stubborn to. though, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d even noticed. vaedar could be... very focused at times, she’d realized. maybe it was a draconian thing. ❝ hey, stand still. let me heal you? ❞ 

[wyrdhearth]

@selunight gets a starter. ➵ shadowheart.

❝ I owe you my thanks. ❞ the admission does not come easily –– shadowheart's eyes are bright with an unguarded gratefulness not commonly felt. but the selûnite has saved her life, and thanks are owed, even if it allows complicated feelings to writhe in her stomach like the spawn in her mind.

❝ I appreciate that I can rely on you to have my back. perhaps I can put aside my distaste of your... ❞ she trails off to consider some polite phrasing of her carefully cultivated hatred for celeste's luminescent goddess. ❝ proclivities. ❞ she falters, pushing something like doubt aside, and refusing to name it that. ❝ I... owe you a debt. you did not have to save me. ❞

[wyrdhearth]

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 than she intends, the desire and longing in niamh's eyes more a reflection of how niamh might actually feel than any coy projection. ❝ you're just used to getting everything you want, I think. and I can see why, ❞ she teases, moving ever closer, to the point where her body is pressed against his. ❝ with a face like that, I can't imagine you ever hear no from anyone. I probably won't be the first to say it, either. ❞

vaedar's body is warm, as always, where it touches her. even just the heat radiating off of him leaves a fine, mist-like layer of dew to her skin. niamh shouldn't like it as much as she does, but she was never quite good at following anything but her heart. ❝ to answer your question... six months and two weeks to the day. I have a large family and, I do miss them often. ❞ she readjusts her arms around his neck, unconsciously bringing them closer. when she breathes in, the various scents of the tavern fades away, and all she can smell is vaedar. ❝ and... yes. I do. though, it depends on what you mean by special. ❞

and so the moment of truth arrives. niamh breathes out, heavily. ❝ I am betrothed to a knight of my people. we are supposed to wed by the end of the year. ❞ in five months, by the first frost. niamh tries to smile, but the reminder is unpleasant and bitter in her mouth. her head tilts as she observes vaedar, looking for any hint of what he might be thinking. she thinks to ask him if he has anyone special in his life, but what comes out is something entirely different: ❝ I've never met anyone like you. I hate the thought of having to wish you farewell one day. ❞ her lips twitch into a smile. ❝ and I have my suspicions that I've grown on you too. ❞

wistcrias​:

        𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐡’𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 –– and while vaedar can be quite excellent at hiding most of his feelings, niamh considers herself a skilled judge of character. all it had taken was one insightful glance over at the drake for her to come to the conclusion that he was jealous, no matter how strictly he refused to acknowledge it. niamh wishes she could tell him it’s nothing to be embarrassed about… especially considering she’d wandered off with the other human man to test those waters himself, to see if he’d mind as much as she suspected he would. 

❝ I don’t know… ❞ she muses with a wide grin as he approaches. she has to tilt her head back to meet vaedar’s eyes, but once she does… niamh doesn’t once consider hiding the flutter of her lashes when his lips graze against the faintly pointed edges of her ears. nor the soft intake of breath. ❝ what if I step on your foot? ❞ 

already though niamh is wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing him to tug her closer. heat pours off of vaedar in waves, the cool blood running through her veins warming as their bodies meet. ❝ you know, dancing is considered a very intimate thing where I hail… ❞ niamh’s smile falters, just a little as she gazes up at him. absently, her fingers begin to play with the platinum locks at the base of his neck. ❝ even more intimate than sex. you won’t tell, will you? ❞ 

░▒▌╳▐ ᴠ ᴀ ᴇ ᴅ ᴀ ʀ

         𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 to rile up the male, and when it happened, it would burn out without leaving embers behind. He hates being subdued by those kinds of emotions, which is why he absolutely refuses to hold grudges. His life is a long one, and he’d rather not drag that kind of weight along. But Niamh just has to be one of them, and the  PRIDEFUL  half of him is stubbornly trying to smother the one that knows  WHY.  It’s stupid to allow himself to  FEEL  more than he should, and it’s annoying that after all this time ( all the humans and creatures alike he’s met ), it just has to happen with her.

        ❝ That smile makes me think you actually planned it… ❞ The platinum blond draconian utters with half narrowed eyes, though the smile that now curves his lips is closer to  AMUSEMENT.  Did she do it on purpose? Why would she  WANT  to make him jealous? Those questions don’t matter because the soft intake of breath is like a  GASP  to his sensitive ears—All the more aware of her every little move when they are this close. ❝ You won’t, ❞ he states when she wraps her arms around his neck. His traitorous heart  SKIPS  at the touch, the way their eyes meet so up close. The rhythm only seems to accelerate when she mentions the importance of dancing in her home—But, unsurprisingly, she says nothing more that would clue him into  WHERE  or  WHAT  home is. Truth be told, he’s not in any hurry to find out in that moment.

        ❝ It’s not like I know anyone from your home to tell on, do I? ❞ Vaedar points out with a half chuckle, both of his hands on her hips. ❝ …How long have you been away from home? ❞ He asks after a brief pause, always  EAGER  to learn more about Niamh—Blame it on the too strong attraction, because that’s all it is. ❝ Is there anyone ’special’ you left behind? ❞ And there it is, that part he's  WILLFULLY  trying to suppress just brimming over in little things like this. He hoped all traces of that prior jealousy were gone now from his tone. So as if to hide any, his voice acquires a smoother, teasing suggestiveness to it. ❝ Not that it matters, because I think I might want to have you all to myself. ❞

[icons-storage]

There is stories worth to tell ( thread )

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 ( thread )

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 ( 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 )

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 ( thread )

[wistcrias]

@jiazhua​​ liked  jinx ➵ zeri 

        ❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫? ❞ zeri appears from within the darkness of a nearby alley, eyes widening as she takes jinx’s form in. the weapon at zeri’s side is big, but the real danger sparks in her hair and winds down her arms to the tips of her fingers. ❝ you must be jinx. it’s just an honor to meet you. ❞ 

[wyrdhearth]

@wereveaux liked. alcide herveaux ➵ beth washington.

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 has caused quite the stir around bon temps ––the oldest (living) washington arrived in the dead of night a week ago, immediately moved into her uncle's cabin in the woods, and started walking around town like she's been here her whole life. she notices the way the locals eye her, with curiosity or with condemnation. truly, she couldn't give a damn. it's a laissez faire kind of thing. if they don't bark, she won't bite.

but if they start following her through the woods... well. beth pauses, glancing over her shoulder and through the trees, squinting. ❝ you can come out, ❞ she calls. ❝ whatever you want, just come on out with it so we can go about our day, 'kay? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@andthe6 gets a starter daisy jones ➵ billy dunne.

❝ 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞. everyone else just... saw what they wanted to see. guess that explains why my mom never really saw me to begin with. ❞ they were sitting close together, a gap between them roughly the length of ten fingers. daisy knew, because she'd set her whole hand there, hoping billy's would somehow find it. she took a slow breath, inhaling salt air and the breeze, hoping it would carry the scent of billy's aftershave over to her. ❝ that thing you said about your dad, at teddy's place? I felt that all the time, growing up. music was the only thing that kept the thought out of my head. figures that the moment I had something to show off... they weren't there anymore. ❞

the silence was painful, but daisy laughed. she always did; it was easier that way.

❝ anyway... simone was the first person who saw me. and then there was you. ❞ her smile widened. ❝ and you hated me. ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@dunnebros gets a starter daisy jones ➵ billy dunne

❝𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭? ❞

enough was enough, daisy had decided. it was, in fact, the last thought to clear her mind before it was overtaken by a red and rioting fog of fury. for the first time in her life, daisy was happy and billy fucking dunne was ruining it. just like he ruined everything. ❝ hey. hey! let me ask you something, billy –– what is it that bothers you so much about my husband? ❞ she smiled, saccharine and bitter, a kitchen knife dipped in sugar, and rusting. ❝ because everyone here –– myself included –– loves him! and as per fucking usual, you're the buzz kill bringing everyone down. so what's that about? is it his money? his looks? or the simple fact that he's married to me?! ❞

daisy had tugged him into the supply closet for privacy –– a notion that grew more absurd by the second as her voice rose. she couldn't help it –– whether it was on stage or off, being near billy amplified her. all of her. the good, the bad and the ugly. she swallowed, eyes blazing some kind of inferno. ❝ you can't just be happy for me, can you? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@wereveaux gets a shippy starter. savannah woodham ➵ alcide herveaux.

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, and immediately was transported to her teen years, sneaking into the rooms of boys whose mouths tasted like whiskey and girls whose bodies were soft against her own. savannah's last hook up must have been.... four years ago. jesus, time flew by.

she groaned softly as she sat up, feeling around her face for her glasses –– sometimes, when she went a little hard on the wine, she fell asleep without wrapping her hair up, and they got tangled in her twists. but no –– her glasses weren't there. she glanced over at the man beside her, and in her honeyed drawl asked, ❝ mornin', you uh... seen my glasses anywhere? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@andthe6 gets a starter daisy jones ➵ eddie roundtree.

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧. having lived life as a teen girl walking the sunset strip, she'd learned to read the secret desires people wore hidden beneath their skin. she could tell when someone was craving something stronger than beer, and when a man wanted more from her than her opinion on the who. she could tell, after spending weeks in a recording studio with eddie freaking roundtree, that he was head over heels stupid in love with camila dunne.

and she could tell that no one else knew. not camila, certainly. and not even her husband.

one night, while she watched him watch billy on the phone with camila, explaining that they were going to be later than usual tonight ( they were rerecording bits and pieces of the river after some of the equipment got fried during a power surge ), daisy said, smiling pleasantly : ❝ so, how long have you been in love with his wife? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@heruglyphs wanted a starter. shadowheart ➵ astarion.

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 –– once a child of night, cloaked in shadow, now shadowheart stands under the bright brilliance of the truth, and she is... she is broken. she is empty and hollow, echoing with everything taken from her. no, stolen is the better word. so much stolen, and she is left aching for what she could have had. but it seems that is their lot in life.

she shudders, meeting astarion's eyes, unable to avert her gaze before he can see the pain there. by now, there is no hiding. she has borne witness to the damage cazador has dealt to the pallid elf; in turn, he gets to see this. he gets to see every bleak and cold moment. shadowheart –– jenevelle –– does not shy away from it. she turns her face into the light.

❝ speak, astarion. I could use the laugh. ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@flovraelies liked. jill valentine ➵ lara croft.

𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭, as far as things went, the team-up kind of girl ( something her friend jonah could well attest to ), but desperate times called for desperate measures. it certainly did not hurt that her companion for this particular trip was a certified bad ass who could definitely hold her own. one of the stars' finest, she'd been told, though the qualification meant little to an archeologist better suited to excavating buried ruins than running around shooting the heads off zombies. not that lara wasn't well-acquainted with the odd gun or two. these days, though, she preferred the classic feel of a longbow, its sturdy weight a comfort on her back. but guns were handy too.

❝ do you do this often? ❞ she eventually asked, shifting in her seat on the plane. the jet was private, arranged to drop them off at the closest airport to the excavation site where the infected had started rising. supposedly the umbrella corporation's fault ––now them lara had heard of. ❝ fly, I mean, out to new locales to deal with things like this? ❞

[wyrdhearth]

@dunnebros cont. from here billy dunne ➵ daisy jones

𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. she hadn't arrived each day at the studio intending to do more than make awesome fucking music. but –– and there was that all important but –– you simply couldn't spend every waking moment with someone who sees the deepest, bleakest parts of you without shrinking back, and not feel something. and daisy.... god help her, daisy was selfish. and hell, she wasn't the one married to camila! daisy wanted. daisy craved billy. she couldn't see anything past that –– she never thought that far ahead. and let's face it... it wasn't her job to say no. it was his.

so here they were. with billy's mouth against her and her hand buried in his hair. that fucking head of hair. ❝ god, billy, ❞ she keened, back arching like a live-wire in the air as she pressed herself back against his tongue and fingers. god damn, those fingers. the way he pressed into her had daisy's silver-painted toes curling into the bed sheets. and when she saw he couldn't look at her, she made him. she wasn't going to be something he could point to be and be ashamed. daisy wasn't going to let billy fucking dunne see past her. ❝ look at me, ❞ she breathed, holding his gaze. ❝ you have to look at me if you want to fuck me. ❞

and then billy had to go and say all that. in that voice. looking like that. ❝ I'm not sorry. ❞ she almost smiled, even as she hooked a bare leg over his hip. even as she ❝ I'm not going to... ah- fuck, billy. I'm not apologizing. ❞ daisy's hand tangled in his hair again, dragging him mouth down to her lips. ❝ you shouldn't either. ❞