#the starter is a bit long

[touchedbydestiny]

@multi-royalty // @multi-royalty-main liked the starter call for elijah & tatia // accepting

        it had been several moons since tatia and her daughter settled near the village of mystic falls. it was hard to build a life in a strange world, especially because she was alone with her child. fortunately, she could rely on the help of harald and tove, who had ventured this journey together with her. the pair already had three children, who happened to be almost the same age as linnea. and, ever since settling down near mystic falls, she also has met a woman named esther who had offered also often offered her help.

       esther and her family have lived in the new world for two decades. she had helpful knowledge about nature and the plants in this world, which were partly so different from tatia’s home.

       today, esther wanted to show tatia a place where medicinal plants grew, and the young woman had visited esther’s house. to her surprise, however, esther did not seem to be present.

       "esther?"

       she circled the hut in search of esther, hoping she might be in the adjacent garden but found a young man instead. she knew this must be a son of esther – she had often seen the family together from a distance.

       "excuse me, i didn’t mean to disturb. esther had invited me to show me something, but she doesn’t seem to be here…" she paused as she eyed the young man, whereby subconsciously a small smile appeared on her lips.

       "you must be elijah, right?" esther has told her about her children: finn, elijah, niklaus, kol, rebekah, and henrik. and although she has never interacted with esther's children before, she has already often seen them.

       "i am tatia."

[sickosdotjpg]

honestly think one of the hottest things a person can do is sneeze into the cowl/collar of a turtleneck sweater or similar

[thistransient]

It's that time again...

[jazzy-art-time]

It's somewhat healing to draw the fursona that you used as a child !!

[why-the-heck-not]

no those aren’t weird sex noises coming from ur neighbour’s apartment; it’s ur local insomniac slap & folding bread dough in the wee hours of the morning

[newdestination]

[Starter for @gamblingrimsley ;; The Couch Incident]

Ingo folds his hands over his chest, eyes resolutely affixed to the ceiling. He can feel his headache throb in time to the beat of his heart, nausea twisting in the pit of his stomach and light sparking in the corners of his eyes. It’s not the worst headache he’s ever had, certainly, but it’s not exactly easy to think around the pain running tracks through his skull either, ricocheting like a broken off arrowhead. Nanu had been generous enough to allow him to stay and rest while they were out, and he’d certainly be remiss to not exercise that particular kindness. Ingo isn’t entirely certain he would have made it back to their hotel with his lunch or ability to think intact, had he attempted to make the return trip; the volume and light levels of the modern era are a completely different beast.

Cities here are alive— they practically breathe beneath the skin of concrete and asphalt, bodies flowing like blood through streets and veins. It feels like the world is constantly screaming within the bounds of proper civilization, caught in a net he doesn't know how to escape from. It tangles and cuts and weaves itself beneath his skin— his temper runs hot and his attention runs cold, and it feels like he's losing pieces of himself out in the streets of Sinnoh‐turned‐Unova‐turned‐Alola. They're all the same smear of color, rusty and raw.

Ingo... Ingo would have fit right in.

It makes Nobori feel foreign. Out-of-place. Like there are Zoroark howling at his door with those horrible sounds, metal screeching in the hazy afternoon. He can convince himself that he can open that door and let them in, but his own strikingly mortal body always seems to fail him at the last step. It hurts. He wants it to stop.

Sometimes he thinks this place is going to eat him alive.

Sometimes he's certain it already has.

Ingo can feel the small paws of an alolan meowth pace a small circle in a halo about his head, tapping inquisitively at the sides of his face before abruptly flopping down right into the nook of his shoulder. There are uncaring little paws kicked up over his mouth, furry and small. The world sings with starburst light behind his eyes at the slight pressure they bring, lancing through his head like a hot iron rod.

He’s not suffocating— he supposes it could be worse. Ingo can hear a small chuff from Gliscor somewhere down on the floor, but his partner doesn’t rise to defend Ingo’s honor or dignity— the ace is plenty used to its trainer being used as a glorified jungle gym to say the least, no matter the barely metaphorical nails being dragged through the tender side of his face.

He tugs the brim of his cap lower over his eyes in an attempt to block out the dim sunlight filtering in through the windows, dappled across his face in soft waving patterns. Ingo had turned the lights off after Nanu and his brother stepped out, but his migraine is still protesting under the fragmented eye of the harsh sun; he’s just glad none of the pokémon he’s sharing the space with seemed to mind the change in light, either. He can faintly hear small feet give chase across the room, a soft pitter-patter that strikes so loudly that it reverberates through the roots of his teeth. Meowing. Hisses and spitting and purring croons so soft he could knead it into a cloud.

...

He's not making much sense even to himself at this rate. It hurts. 

…Perhaps it wouldn’t cause too much trouble to take a nap— that usually helped at least to some degree, and the warm, purring body sprawled across the right side of his face is awfully convincing…

(It doesn't take very long for Ingo to fall asleep right there on Nanu's couch, feet dangling awkwardly off the far edge of the arm rest.)

[shsl-baby]

They’re never quite sure how to feel around Mukuro.

It’s not very often that the two end up alone together. Yukiko scampers after Junko constantly, like it’s the one thing they were born to do, but when they finally get brushed off enough times to wear them down into giving up for a bit, they find themselves fidgeting awkwardly with the loops of their overalls. Sometimes they wonder if the other twin even likes them, but then Junko thinks something up and they get swept into whatever it is like a whirlwind, and they’re back to nipping at her heels for any sort of attention.

This is one of those in-between moments. The times when Junko’s not there, when there’s no grand scheme to play out for her. There’s nothing being asked of them, and left to their own devices, they’re quickly growing bored. But they don’t dare say that out loud, because in the end it’s not about their boredom, is it?

“Muku-chan.” The childish nickname falls from their mouth without a second thought - some found it cute and others found it annoying, but either way they got a reaction out of it. They stand slightly taller than usual on an icy park bench, arms spread on either side of them. “Watch this.” They bend at the knees, seeming to cook up some kind of idea for a trick in that head of theirs, but as they go to jump off the bench their boots slip on the winter frost and they go scrambling into the snow with a soft oomf. They lie there a moment before standing up shamefully, dusting their clothes off, clumps of snow stuck in their bright red hair and wetting their freckled face.

“... Nevermind.” They mutter softly. Is the red on their cheeks from the cold or from embarrassment?

@despairs-memorial from x

[thorsiffe-dragonheart]

Brokenbrow (pt. 2)

For: @elenaramirez Location: The Punch Cage

Part 1

Thorsiffe raised their fists in victory, a grin spreading upon their lips. Once the joy of battle fell upon them, everything else became a murmur on the back of their mind, and only now did they truly take in all those calling out to them. They rounded the ring, laughing and punching the air in triumph, reveling in their glory.

Looking out the ring, Thorsiffe met the eyes of a stranger they had not yet seen in the years they had come here. They tilted their head, giving her a curious look for a moment, before their lips curled up into a grin again. They winked at her, before punching into the air one last time.

Another brief rest, another bottle of water chugged, and Thorsiffe stood in the ring once more. The announcer's voice boomed throughout the room again. "We've seen Dragonheart, the northern wolf, take on the deadly Nightshifter and brave the Inferno... However," the earth rumbled as their new opponent stepped into the ring. Thorsiffe's eyes sparkled with excitement, even as they wished they'd hold such power.

"Can they take on the divine might, of the God of War?!"

Their new opponent was a deity; such was obvious, and furthermore his scent confirmed it. He was a giant of a man, almost as big as their Egil, standing around two meters tall and with chiseled, bulging muscles. His short black hair and beard were well kempt, his tanned skin was painted in gold, and his golden eyes seemed to bore right into Thorsiffe's soul.

"Could you not come up with a more creative name?" they teased, giggling and taking their stance.

"Come mock me again once you've claimed a dragon's heart, pup," he responded stoically, voice low and rumbling as the mountain.

Thorsiffe charged. Part of them wished to call upon Vegrleita, to let it sing upon the air and give them a chance against this foe. However, Vegrleita was a weapon of war and war alone. Their foe's name might invoke it, yet this fight was far from it. They would make due with the fire of their blood and the thunder in their bones.

They spring onto one foot, readying themself for a kick, but are immediately swept off their feet instead. The moment they hit the ground, Thorsiffe rolls backwards and onto their feet.

The ground shakes as God of War takes a step upon where they just lay, and Thorsiffe could not help but wonder if they would have survived, had such a step been taken upon their chest.

Within the blink of an eye, God of War is upon them. His massive fist shoots out towards their face, and it is all Thorsiffe can do to move their head aside just in time. Another step forward from their foe. They meant to act, but even before the violence moves from their brains to their bones, the wind is knocked out of them as God of War brings his knee up into their stomach. They were quite sure they would have been knocked up into and through the ceiling had he not held back. A courtesy they were grateful for. Still, they are lifted a ways into the air and let out an undignified yelp.

They might never win this match, but they would never go out without a worthy attempt.

Before their feet even touch the ground, Dragonheart's hands get a grip of God of War's shorts. Of course, he immediately knows what they intend to do and starts to wind up a kick. However, Thorsiffe had telegraphed their intentions with intent. Grinning, they lift him up by the shorts the moment their feet hit the ground. Instead of trying to kick him up and roll him over their thigh though, they take another step forward and spin around, letting God of War's own kick spin them around and throw him onto his back.

Their foe grunts in pain and frustration, but Thorsiffe laughs. Before they can do anything else they're sent flying. They can't even really tell which limb he used this time around. It doesn't matter either. Their foe had thought himself invincible, thought them unworthy to bring him pain. He had been wrong.

Thorsiffe crashes through the cage's fence and into a wall. The world goes dark, blood trickling down their brow, but their grin remains upon their lips.

[heartsbreaking-migrated]

her heart was still pounding. the sound of the clapping echoed in her ears and happy tears streaked down her cheeks. one moment she was waiting with her team mates, then the next she was on the floor grinning up at the audience and the cameras waiting to hear her name called. first she won bronze for floor and that would have been enough. it was more than expected actually, considering how she was competing with and against some of the best gymnasts in the country. but then she was called again and she got to go through it all over again for floor, where she won silver. not only that, but her team was going to compete in the national championship! they'd made it by the skin of their teeth but they were going! it was hard to even think about how sore her body was or the nap she so desperately craved like she had been while they were waiting for scoring. everything was electric, and the weight of the three medals, the third and final being from their team win, around her neck were a physical reminder of how hard she'd worked for this. the hard work wasn't over by any means, but she got to celebrate now.

first came another group hug with her teammates, an ecstatic circle of blue congratulating each other and talking about how they were each going to celebrate. most of the team was going out to dinner together, save for a few who had family and friends who'd come for the event. gracie was one of those. she knew it was kind of meant to be a surprise, but when she'd heard there were two tickets booked in the floyd name rather than the one she hoped for given the finals were being held in san diego this year and only a short distance away from the air base gracie had an idea of who else might be coming. in the locker room she pulled on her ucla blue sweatpants and warm up jacket over her leotard, leaving the medals on so she could show them off. she carried her gym bag over one shoulder and the flowers the team had all been given in the other hand as she went to find her brother. she checked her phone for a text and saw he said were waiting by the end of the hall leading to the rest of the gym. leave it to bob to find the most out of the way, least populated area to meet up she thought with a smile. gracie headed in that direction, scanning for the sign telling her where to look. it took a few minutes of pushing through crowds and accepting passing congratulations for her to see them.

it wasn't just bob waiting with flowers under a bright red exit sign, but mickey too. excitement flooded through her all over again, and she picked up her pace until she was in front of them. her bag slipped off her shoulder and she awkwardly pulled them both into a hug. "i'm so happy to see you both! i'm so glad you made it!"

SURPRISE STARTER for @fyrewalks / mickey garcia & bob floyd*

[serabellyms]

  PLOTTED STARTER !     ⤷ @downs1de ✧ rustin cohle.

Finally, finally, she'd been able to take some leave. It was difficult, given the intensity of her training, but now that there were final evaluations for those who'd be deemed N7 status (and her passing all of the previous levels with flying colours), she had time to wait until she'd know whether she'd been chosen for such an esteemed vocation. It'd been a difficult journey, and so far... she'd passed. Now, she had a chance to take a break, and she’d sent a message to Rust, letting him know where she was staying if he’d like to come visit. She hadn’t received a message back, but she figured he’d see it eventually.

What she didn’t expect was hearing a knock at her door late at night. She was up in a flash, grabbing her sweater and pulling it over her head to conceal the garish scars that marred her arms and shoulders. Who would be coming at this hour? She hadn’t received any messages; surely if it was emergent, one of her COs or her training officers would’ve sent her a message. Raising a hand, she pulled her pistol close with her biotics, setting it out of sight in case of an intruder, but somewhere she’d know where it was. No need for her to answer the door holding it; she didn’t exactly need a gun to defend herself, after all.

Opening the door, she was... surprised at what she saw. Dishevelled was one way to describe it; clothing rumpled, tie loosened, and a half-abused bouquet of flowers that looked like it'd been bought hours ago. The only saving grace was his hair; it always looked like that, a little tousled. The rest was easy to figure out; even if she couldn't smell the alcohol yet, she certainly knew the look of a man who'd had one too many drinks.

At least he'd taken a cab, identified by the car that was leaving now that she'd opened the door. Oh, god, what did you do? At least he looked... okay, for the most part. No bruises or cuts, which mean no fights, but something had happened. Sighing softly, she reached for his arm to gently coax him inside, resigning herself to... whatever this was. If he'd come to her in this state, there had to be a reason he'd picked her over everyone else.

"C'mon," she encouraged, guiding him to the couch. "Do you... want some coffee, or do you just want to sleep it off?" Either option didn't matter to her; she doubted she'd be sleeping much, given she'd be too damn busy worrying. Once he was sitting, she pulled two glasses from the cupboards, filling them both with water; if nothing else, she’d get him to drink at least one glass of water, and she herself probably needed one. Of course, water wasn’t the only thing she grabbed; reaching into the fridge, she juggled one of her usual electrolyte drinks, knowing that ought to be a hell of a hangover cure for a non-biotic.

Setting the glass down in front of him as well as the bottle, she took a seat next to him, sipping the second glass of water herself. “Drink. The water first, then that. It’ll at least save you from being dehydrated in the morning. They’re, uh—they give them to us after… long stints groundside.” Hopefully he wasn’t apt enough to notice her cover-up; she’d yet to tell him about their real purpose: to keep biotic soldiers hydrated, given the amount of calories and electrolytes burned in combat generating and controlling mass effect fields.

[mused-like-roses]

Closed Maes Hughes starter ~ @the-expatriate

Well this was a person he didn't recognize off the bat... it was a small quirk Maes had; knowing most people by their name and/or face including those in the Military. When it came to new recruits, citizens of Central, or even passerbys, it was a curveball for him. That sort of information was a double-edged sword at times, sometimes it meant it was a friendly person or other times it was the total opposite. Never judge a book by the cover, but the former seemed rather apparent from the looks of her.

"Hello there!" Maes gave off a friendly smile once he made his way up to her and gave a small wave. He was just as hospitable as he was to everyone else. "You must be new to Central City judging by your looks. You happen to be lost by any chance?" Came the questions, at least the ones after the important one pertaining to who he was.

"Oh, and before I forget; I'm Lietuenant-Colonel Maes Hughes of the Central Military Command. Pleasure to meet you Miss!"

[evrytingbagel]

yes im mentally ill yes i have an IS obsession. and what about it!!

[goldensunset]

*gasp* final starter evo in the middle of the seventh gym…

[raeofgayshine]

I love playing Pokémon in a way that would absolutely kill anyone who knows a thing about the game. No I don’t know most weaknesses and strengths of typings or what I should be using. No I’m not building a well rounded team. No I don’t remember battle to battle what moves are effective against what Pokémon’s even if I just fought them and lord knows I don’t really understand their power or literally any stat my mons have. I am heavily brute forcing my way through this game with my team full of Sunflora fusions because this is Infinite Fusions and I can do that. Yes having everyone a grass type presents problems. No I don’t care! I will beef them up enough they can tank hits until I can destroy whoever I’m fighting and if all else fails I have potions and revives and everything I need on stock to keep going. I do not know what I’m doing but I’m having fucking fun with it!!!!

[savageboar]

tbh replaying pmdgti makes me curious if any good pmd rom hacks are out there

[dandyshucks]

OKAAYYYY LETS GOOOO