#I hope this works for you lmk if I need to change it!

[lordliing]

"what's it like? you know... being such a fast-rising merchant and all." the pale elf swirled what was meant to be wine in his goblet, having yet to help himself to a sip of it while entertaining cazador's guest. "i've always admired the quick rise to power." his voice dropped an octave closer to a whisper and astarion leaned in. "is it true that the ladder to success is built upon the misfortune of those who fell behind?"

The human had been nursing the drink 'offered' to him since it was slid into his embellished hand, not yet going for a sip himself-- the Szarr family was said to be one of the most powerful in Baldur's Gate if not one of the strangest, and both were quite obviously based in some truth. From the rather depressing paintings and tacky designs to the collective of pallid and sickly-looking residents, the arms dealer didn't quite feel at ease.

Of course, he never felt at ease, but something about the atmosphere in here made him more on edge than he had felt since stepping into Moonrise for the first time.

Which of course, was why he sat on the edge of his seat, watching one of the house's (staff? family member? slave? He didn't really care for the answer) residents nurse his own drink with a cautious gaze. He considered his words, releasing the goblet's stem to rest his elbow on the table instead. "Incredible," he replied easily, "It takes research, networking, shrewd mind-- and charm, of course. You are selling yourself at the end of the day. The power and success only accelerates the rise."

He instinctively leaned in as well, eyes flicking from the man's face to the table, considering what to say once again-- it wasn't like he was sitting in this room because he was some saint, feeding the poor wretches in the alleyways and sewers, but the question was pointed. It could be turned on him if he was not careful. "The mercantile industry calls for hard decisions to be made-- unfortunately not everyone will make it in such a… cutthroat environment."

"If is an unfortunate and harsh reality, one that could befall anyone-- some are simply doomed to fail. I refused to be one of them."

[ibblescribbles]

TRASH 🚮 Speedpaint | Alt under cut:

[utopideal]

This new world that More has found himself in... is wonderful.

At first, he'd believed it to be the very utopia he'd wrote about in his novel. The similarities were so startling that they couldn't be coincidence, and they filled him with a great fear - because More knows that ending up in such a place is something he could never deserve.

So something had to be wrong. Even so, though... he couldn't help the sense of wonder that swelled up inside him whenever he let himself observe the world around him. Perhaps it isn't quite a utopia, a perfect world like the one he'd once believed in, but there's still much for him to learn - so that's where More starts; with a hesitant hope and the decision to learn what it means that he's ended up here, in this strange, long-lost world.

He's aware that he doesn't fit in, and he's already received quite a few strange looks from the people around him - but it's not been enough to cause him any actual trouble so far. He hasn't found a way to cover his horns yet, but most seem to think they're just a fashion statement or part of a costume... regardless, he's not surprised at all when he's approached by another stranger, offering them a polite smile and a nod of his head in acknowledgement before he speaks.

"I hope I'm not bothering you. Did the man from earlier tell you to speak with me?"

@chibitantei ( starter! )

[strawberista]

⚅— Starter for @guidemetothedark —⚅

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

Hanekoma drew a deep breath as he stood in the short alley of the First District of Traverse Town. He could feel it, that soft pull to his soul. There was no mistaking the imprint that his Composer left wherever he went, and why Hanekoma had not tried harder here the first time he visited he would never understand. Though, at the time he had been rather panicked, and he had not seen Joshua anywhere. Even now, he had scoured every corner in and out of this place and hadn't seen him yet.

But he could feel his soul, so faintly it was barely there, and it was driving him mad.

"Where are you...?" he whispered, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know you're here somewhere..."

He flinched, attention suddenly drawn away from the point of the wall he'd been staring at for the better part of an hour, and turned his head to the side to get a better sense of what had just arrived. Souls like this weren't uncommon in this setting, he'd noticed. Very strong imaginations that led even the most mundane of humans to extraordinary new heights. That powers and objects of such power were with them, allowing them access to several different universes on their own. In Shibuya a feeling like this would be a cause for alarm, but since leaving into these connected clusters of universes he'd noticed that it was far less concerning to feel them. Even so, these individuals were still much less frequent than average humans or... non-humans... and there was still a need to be alert around them. They had the ability to do a great many more things than any regular person could hope to get away with, and since he had only been in observation he had yet to determine whether they could tell he was an angel, or even not human, yet.

He wondered if this individual had only just arrived or if he'd been observed.

A lazy smile painted over his face as he turned around to better look at the approaching figure, hand curling over the back of his neck. He wanted to come off as someone nonthreatening and maybe even someone not nearly so powerful as he really was. He could trick this person into thinking he was just a bystander, maybe, or at least no one of import.

"Hey there," he purred. "How can I help ya, boss?"

[infectedzoology]

@killchosen // S.C. / for Ro !

THE WORST PLACE for such an active mind to be was in a dead, quiet environment. Even the dripping of water from a pipe above the ceiling was driving her up the wall, and Evelyn, frankly, wasn't sure how much longer she could take before her brain just imploded and she, herself, exploded like a bullet hitting a gas tank. For the past few hours, she'd been pacing back and forth, mumbling about mass-energy equivalence and running over formulas in her head, just trying to find something to do to stimulate her brain while essentially trapped in this safehouse.

THERE WAS ANOTHER round of pacing ( this was probably her eighth time circling the entire room, and even the area right outside of the door ) before she spoke out loud, gaze lifting to Rochelle.

" I-I-I'M FUCKING BORED. " Quite the statement off the bat, but then she spared a quick glance out the window, then back at her teammate, a cheeky little grin spreading across her expression.

" I H-HAVE AN idea, a-and it's entertaining...I saw a gas st-station nearby, h-heard a Boomer in the area when we passed earlier...wanna explode both, see how big it gets ? " She had a hypothesis she wanted to test.

[lured-into-wonderland]

It was going to be a LONG NIGHT. She could (and probably should) go home, but dr. Zayne was still in his office. Nunnally didn’t feel confident to leave before her superior did (and her father would definitely disapprove if he’d learn she did). She had tried to work on the journal manuscript, but she was too tired to focus. She poured herself another cup of coffee, and drank it quickly. It was warm and strong. The way she liked.

("You should be careful with coffee, Nunnally. You're drinking too much recently"); she scolded herself pouring yet another cup. Nunnally hesitated what to do next. The hospital was quiet and seemingly nothing was going on. She had checked on that patient, who had just undergone surgery (she was sure they were the reason why dr. Zayne was staying at night; in case something happened), checked on the other patients who were assigned to her during the day shift, but everything seemed to be under control. She wasn't needed.

Nunnally checked her phone in case her father called (she hoped he would, but as expected he did not); she looked over the magazine someone left on a table, but it didnt seem productive.

She took a sip of her coffee, and then stood up, took another cup and poured some more coffee into it. She finished hers and – holding that other cup in her hand – she walked towards dr. Zayne office. Her heels clicking on the floor. Indeed, in the silence of the hospital corridor, they might have announced her before she arrived. The door was left afar, and she could see her superior inside. She knocked gently before speaking: --

“Dr. Zayne…I hope I am not interrupting…” – she most likely was – “I thought that you might want a drink.” – she said reaching her hand with a cup towards him – “It’s coffee. Freshly brewed.” – if anything Nunnally knew how to brew good coffee – “I have just checked on my patients. But all seems normal.” – she should probably just leave and stop wasting his time, but if he would give her something to do she would be able to force herself to accomplish the task.

“Is there something I might be useful for?”  

plotted starter for @nifhelheim

[moonrecalled]

"This is..."

Is he dreaming? Ryoji knows distantly that what he's seeing right now should be an impossibility. He knows that, and it's not like he isn't shocked! After all, the sky is green, the moon shines far too large in the sky, and coffins surround him as far as the eye can see. But maybe he's so surprised that he's not comprehending the sight as real yet, because for some reason... he doesn't feel afraid. At least, not in the way he thinks he should be.

There's just something about this place that feels natural in it's unnaturalness, a juxtaposition that fits just right in his mind. There is some anxiety inside him, he thinks, as he tries to figure out what this all means and what's happened to the people he loves... maybe that's the fear he's supposed to be feeling? Is it possible to feel both fearful and peaceful at once? He doesn't know what this feeling means... but somehow... he doesn't want to know.

"Makoto-kun!" Ryoji exclaims as he notices the familiar face - and all at once, a wave of relief sweeps through him. If Makoto is here, then everything must be alright. There's no reason to panic just yet, anyway - it won't help a thing, right?

Something is wrong, wrong, wrong. But Ryoji stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the voice whispering at the back of his mind, and focuses entirely on the boy who's always been there.

"Do you know what's going on? I don't know why, but when I woke up, it was like this... You're okay, aren't you?"

@fatexbound ( starter for minato! )

[elijahbell]

starter for: @choihyejinx

location: hye-jin's bungalow

The ways in which people handled what'd happened were many. Elijah had seen some wander around like in shock, even now, while others showed their emotions openly, crying or cussing. People had been busy distracting themselves, and enough of the shipwrecked bordered on unbothered.

And a select few had sought separation.

"Hye-jin?" Elijah called out, rapping against the front door with his knuckles, all the while trying to keep hold of the three sizeable cans of pre-made soup in his arms. It'd taken a moment to find their house again, even though he'd been right on this porch before. Except that now it looked like nature had picked a spot on the island in order to reclaim it. Thick, green vines grew out of the ground, wrapping their fleshy tendrils around the facade. Plants that looked like ivy clung to the windows, as if it's leaves where meant to cover them from prying eyes. The front door itself was covered in veins of thorny growth, enough that it hadn't been easy to find a space to knock.

"It's me. Elijah. Do you remember what I said at the feast about the housewarming gifts? Well, I thought I'd stop by. I am a man of my word, after all." Elijah's voice was loud enough that it'd hopefully reach into the house. Yeah, people had different ways of dealing with this. And perhaps, this was Hye-jins. Cutting themselves off from everybody.

"I brought soup. The flavor selection is rather limited but, I have some ways of making it better than it seems. I figured we could have some lunch together."

[uselessdevice]

CLOSED STARTER : @hvbris // & VIOLET

Leah had always wanted a family of her own. And to give the chance of love and safety to a foster child was an opportunity she couldn't have passed up, even if she hadn't expected to welcome three into her home at once.

That didn't deter her, though. Once she'd confirmed that she heard their caretaker correctly, Leah couldn't bear the thought of saying no, of leaving the Baudelaire children to stay adrift. They'd been through so much already...horror and heartache that nobody their age should experience.

They needed stability. And, Leah recognised swiftly, they needed the opportunity to be kids. As admirable as it was how independent they were, it was clear they'd had a lot of responsibility dumped on their shoulders, especially poor Violet as the eldest.

"Now what are you up to?" Leah asked as she gave the door a gentle knock. The room was small, but at least Violet had a space to herself. Every teenager needed that. Unlike most girls, however, the eldest Baudelaire seemed to have amassed a collection of odds and ends, scrap metal and screws, all sorts of things she was busily arranging.

An unsual hobby, but it was reassuring to see that she was settling in already.

[acefms]

( closed starter for stefan | @fadiingliight )

Being the first person to show up for a self defence class didn’t seem like it would be such a terrible thing, yet when August entered through the door her body instantly went into fight of flight mode when she saw just who the instructor was. It had been several years since she had last seen him, but Stefan was a face she’d never forget. Her college boyfriend. A serious one. They’d spent two years together and then her life flipped upside down and she’d been left with no choice but to run. And that’s exactly what her body told her to do in that exact moment. “Oh, fuck me this cannot be happening right now.” She mumbled to herself, eyes wide and palms clammy. Quickly, she turned on her heels and headed towards the door, but before she could make a swift exit she was forced backwards into the room as the rest of the class came hurrying in. Suddenly, she felt trapped. Forced to face a past she’d spent so long running from.

[namenoted]

❝ well, here we are, ❞ he says, looking at the spread of books between them. ❝ man, where do we even begin? i guess ... at the beginning, right? ❞

he's putting it on heavy today. while there is nothing necessarily ominous about yagami, no shadow over his shoulder here (not in this world!), there is an air about him. he is a proper, well-put-together boy, and he is oddly helpful, well-mannered, and bred for success. the ultimate academic, an almost teen detective, and japan's top student —— and yet, here he is, sitting in his livingroom cross-legged with his hands on his knees, leaning back to stretch out his ribs against the lining of the couch's base frame and cushions. the tonkatsu he's pulled out is clearly expensive, and despite its use, has been well taken care of.

the general decor is a relative mix of traditional and western —— a nice house —— and yagami is obviously playing comfortable. maybe he really is? still, with company, it's best to keep up appearances. he can't be too comfortable. this person isn't keitaro*.

❝ hey, do you want something to drink before we get started? ❞ their introductory tea is empty, the small pot sitting near their discarded cups and saucers. ❝ water, soda? we also have chips if you want a snack. now that i think about it, i think i need a little 'brain food'. ❞ — @kuroyrii

[dynmghts]

katsuki stretches with a huff as he walks through the doors of an agency he's been assigned a team-up mission with . his teachers hadn't told him much , besides being paired up with someone who was from a different school , and that it was a challenge to cooperate with different unknowns . he glances around ... [ and grimaces a bit , seeing different memorabilia plastered on nearly every surface he could see . ] ... before taking up a seat nearby . upon notifying the agency of his arrival , he leans into one hand with elbow on the table , waiting .

he hears @aeviare enter before he sees him . crimson lifts from his deadpan stare at the wall to catch a glimpse of the unassuming person he was teaming up with , and his gaze focuses on the other blond that's entered / his hair was certainly more gold than blond , eyes to match . the young bakugou waits until their mutual agency hire introduces them to each other - or , at least , gets them to focus their attention on one another , and leaves with haste to prepare their task .

though his stare is intense and his face remarkably stoic , katsuki keeps his arms crossed firmly across his chest , taking in the details he can about this new person that he was dealing with . between gold hair and gold eyes , clear skin , and unique style of clothing , katsuki determines that he is ... [ certainly different . almost otherworldly , nearly empyrean . ] ... wasn't the kind of guy to piss him off straight away . but the day was young . ❛ katsuki bakugou , ❜ he finally offers , breaking the awkward silence with a margin of courtesy . ❛ if you're not u.a. , where the hell are you from , huh ? ❜ / ❤'d for aether !

[strawberista]

⚅— @fangedstories asked: —⚅ ⚅— "Sanae." The smarmy voice of Shibuya's Composer drawled as he materialized with legs crossed on a stool "Would you do me a favor and re-upgrade my phone? I seem to be getting spam calls from Shinjuku's UG. Do so, and I might actually pay for that House Blend I ordered two weeks ago. With interest." —⚅

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

Hanekoma nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice behind him. It had been such a long time since he'd gotten to be anywhere near Joshua, and they had both been working so hard to stay away from each other where possible. He had thought, for a moment, that Joshua just hadn't been able to handle it anymore, and he had come running back to his father again.

But when Hanekoma turned around, he found himself looking at a different soul. This wasn't his Composer, but one from another universe altogether. And it was so rare to see Joshua's counterparts out and about like that. Composer's usually stayed in their own homes to keep up with their cities, but this one... Didn't even seem aware that he was talking to the wrong person. Maybe he'd come in here by mistake and hadn't even notice that he'd wandered. It seemed unlikely, but then... Well, he'd met all sorts when it came to his Composer's mirrors.

But he grinned and propped his hand on his hip and gazed down his nose at the visiting Composer, "Oh yeah? You sound like quite the headache, not that I'm too surprised. I might be willing to do some work on your horn, boss, but you're not exactly in Kansas anymore. Or didn't ya notice?"

[someotherdog]

for / @grapefruitey participants / prudencia & your choice of muse, as long as they're over the age of thirty! story / based off of here, within a dream plot; our muses keep seeing each other in their dreams; prue thinks it's just a weird reoccurring dream, but soon they discover that they can touch, see, and hear each other! while the dreams seem harmless at first, things soon get dangerous when our muses can't wake up themselves up... (could also be backrooms-y or nightmare on elm street/freddy krueger, i'm up for anything!) setting / a beautiful glowing park with purple butterflies that prue has been visiting in her dreams every night for the past two weeks.

she might've thought she was in heaven if she wasn't pretty sure she hadn't died yet. she might've thought she was in heaven if she hadn't visited the park multiple times that week and then woke up every morning back in the cruel, cold world. each night when prudencia settled into bed, her mind drifted off nearly instantaneously and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in a park that had trees a vibrant green like it was perpetually spring and they never died, and beautiful butterflies with bright purple wings. there were birds that sang the sweetest tune, and the best part of all, not a single squirrel to try and steal food from her picnic. it was a picnic, wasn't it? she always sat on a cute pink-and-white gingham blanket. there was always a basket full of sandwiches and juice boxes. the sun always shined with not a cloud in the sky and yet she didn't get overheated, she was pleasantly warm all day—or was it night? prue could never tell. when she was in her beautiful dream, it felt like she had been there forever, and she never wanted to leave. not until her alarm went off in the morning and it was time to go back to the real world.

there was a strange part of her dream, though. every night she dreamt of a wonderful picnic, but there was no one there to share it with her. she would sit alone on that picnic blanket and never actually eat the sandwiches, but there was no one to share the basket with anyway. she just sat there. for hours, maybe. for days. for minutes. for years. she didn't know. when prue was dreaming, there was no such thing as time. no such thing as work. no such thing as pain or heartbreak or strife. it was so precious that prue couldn't wait to go home and go to bed. normally, she loved the art classes she taught at the local elementary school, but for the past month, all she wanted was to go to sleep. even at work, the only thing she could paint was that park, and her coworkers and young students remarked on its beauty. every painting she did was better than the last, more detailed than the one before it. soon, it would be like she could enter the dream by falling into the easel. without even realizing it, prudencia became obsessed.

the dream started to change earlier that week. while most of it was the same, there was a perturbing difference: she wasn't alone anymore. she couldn't see them, not at first, but she was aware of their presence anyway, as if could feel them in the area, a purely animal instinct. once prue became aware of her dream-sharer, their visage kept creeping closer more and more each night. last night, she could've sworn she almost glimpsed their face. all day at work, she had been anxious to get back to her dream world. she needed to see their face. she needed to know.

that night, the park was the same. shiny, bright, breathtaking. when she arrived into her dream, she could tell the stranger was near. in fact, when she stood up from the blanket and turned around, they were right upon her. their face startled her. though she somehow knew they would finally meet that night, to actually have them right in front of her made her jump back a bit. quickly, she recovered and a smile bloomed on her doll-like face. "oh. it's you." prue sighed dreamily, her gaze dropping bashfully. for a moment, she was scared the stranger would be some sort of troll-person, but they were surprisingly attractive. just another beautiful thing to add to her beautiful dream.

[countlessrealities]

@kamikotized asked for a small starter from Claw Noir !

Hesperia's hideout was very different from what Claw Noir was used to. The place where the Supreme summoned him and Shadybug for their mission was at the same time lavish and sterile. There was no warmth or comfort to be found there, only a show of power that had to be always feared and never doubted or challenged.

Adrien had hated that place since day one. It was a reminder of how fleeting and fake the freedom his Miraculous granted him was.

The room he currently stood in, instead, had a completely different energy. He hadn't noticed the first time they had broken into it, he hadn't even looked around. He had been there for one and only reason and nothing else had mattered.

Now everything was different. Himself included.

"How do you do it?" He asked, stretching a hand out to try and coax one of the magical butterflies to land on his finger. "How can you put up with...everything? Not just the lies, but knowing that you're up against something powerful enough to control the whole world? Aren't you afraid that the people you care for could pay the price?"

In spite of everything, he had been worrying about his father since he had come back from the other universe. The Supreme knew who he was. The moment his and Marinette's betrayal would be revealed, their families would have become a target.

"How can we do both? Fight the Supreme and protect them?"

[dasom-bh]

SILENT NIGHT ft. im daewon ( @daewonbh ) location: mugunghwa gallery, post conversation with siu potential triggers: public intoxication

it’s not that she had any intention on getting even the slightest bit intoxicated— dasom almost never took in any alcohol beverages at official events, with the exception of an occasional glass of champagne offered by friends of her parents. otherwise, she made sure to be on her best behavior. it was even rarer that she stray away from her family or fiancé’s side, but the crocus season had caused the red head to feel overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions. she desperately felt the need to get away from the crowd and give her picture-perfect act a break, even for just a moment.

though her vision was blurry, dasom would recognize his face from any distance. even when she tried to give him space away from her, she’d somehow always found a way to intrude it once more. against her better judgment, dasom’s dainty feel continued to stumble their way closer to her betrothed, who appeared too enthralled by the painting before him to notice her presence. ‘perhaps that’s for the best.’ she thought to herself, resigning to the distance between them before catching a closer glance at his expression.

“im daewon…are you crying?”