#verse;; tbd

[cxskxtsymptxm]

Don't talk about me like you might know how i feel.

For Corey Cunningham.

Right, because he doesn't know what it's like to be hunted down. Whether by the town or even during that fateful night in twenty-eighteen. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he chews on his thumbnail as his eyes look at her with a vague irritation. 'Might know how I feel?'

Preaching to the choir really, but unlike her story, he's becoming the killer. Once a survivor of the night with Michael during his first rampage, now he's welcomed the darkness in his heart and become what once used to send a shiver down his spine. Eventually, he replies as his roughened tone speaks out.

"Yeah, clearly I don't know. You watched your friends die, and almost died yourself... And it was made into a dark spectacle. Yeah, I don't know how you feel... Totally."

[thegrxxk]

open starter || mutuals only

❝ That seat is taken. ❞ Meg didn't even bother looking up from the book that rested on the table before her, she simply reached out and made a shooing motion with her hand before turning the page. Was the seat actually taken?? Of course not. But did the brunette want any form of company?? By the gods she did not.

[owedfavors]

⤷ ✧ @ve1ljumpers said, ❝ you strike me as sneaky. ❞ ( regency!pike )

❛ sneaky implies doing something underhand while striving to avoid detection. ❜ though at face value, the words are mere observation, her tone implies that it is rather a protest: she does nothing of the sort. listening, after all — at least when not done surreptitiously by listening around corners or through closed doors — is scarcely either underhand or furtive. nor is being circumspect in her own words. and as for all her science, work which might well belong in the shadows to avoid the scorn of society, she has never taken pains to conceal it. if few know the extent of it, that's merely because they neither ask nor permit her to speak of it.

there's nothing sneaky to it at all.

despite the protest, however, it strikes her that in a way, his description, while apparently unsuited, is simultaneously more perceptive than any of the many accusatory adjectives, at face value more accurate, assigned to her by so many over the years.

[sankta-alina-s]

@starlsssankt

Alina considered the coins in her pocket as she looked upon the bolts of fabric. Marina seemed to be in need of new clothing faster than she could keep up with. These would last through the summer, yet another batch would be needed for the winter.

Each coin earned from taking in washing was saved for her daughter's upkeep. Alina's pregnancy with Marina had been fully unexpected- realized after she'd crossed the Fold weeks after the Winter Fete- yet she couldn't imagine her life without her daughter. The little girl hadn't shown any signs of being Grisha just yet, which allowed for the mother and daughter to remain in their West Ravkan home for a while longer. Alina knew it was only a matter of time however, what with the girl's lineage to speak of.

She parted with some of her coins in favor of a measure of blue calico and a brown cotton that she hoped would withstand the wear and tear of a four year old. Said four year old was not too interested with her mother's selections and was instead taken with the spools of ribbon on display at the next stall.

Alina paused her conversation with the elderly woman behind the counter at the gentle tugging of her daughter on her hand.

"Do you want a ribbon, malyshka?" she asked, supposing that another coin could be spared for the trifle. Ever since laying eyes on her daughter, red-faced and wriggling in her arms after being born, Alina strove to do whatever possible for her. If a ribbon for her hair would bring a smile to the little girl's face, then Alina would do so gladly.

She spoke with the woman about trivial town gossip for a few moments while Marina chose her ribbon. Alina eventually turned to the display, intending to hurry Marina along, when she noticed the lack of a four year old by the ribbons. Icy panic flooded her upon not spotting her daughter.

"Marina?!" she called, wildly scanning the area. She dropped the yards of fabric on the stall counter as her daughter's name once more formed on her lips.

Relief flooded her upon spotting Marina in the midst of an animated conversation a few stalls over, unknowing of her mother's panic. The momentary relief was quickly eclipsed by utter horror as Alina recognized who it was that was talking to her daughter.

Her breath came short and fast while her body temperature dropped. She'd been so careful to avoid notice or attention these past few years. This town knew her as Irina, while the last had called her Darya. Alina had even limited her use of the Small Science, just summoning enough light every few weeks to keep herself healthy.

How had this happened?

"Marina!" she called sharply as she darted toward her daughter. She grabbed the girl and hefted her into her arms, not carrying that her hands were no longer free if needed to summon, as having her daughter close was all that she could focus on.

For the first time in four years, Alina found herself meeting the eyes of the Darkling.

[unforestalledreturn-a]

plotted starter for @hoshizorax

The dying sun took with it the last warmth of the day, one which these narrow, dirty alleys had not felt for hours now, if ever at all. The city was a sensory nightmare, choked with smog, one that Genesis found the only relief to be the blaring neon cursive above the building he had been searching for; Devil May Cry. On the phone, the woman he had spoken with, Noriko, he believed, had offered a consultation with his troublesome bounty. As he went to open the door, a loud, and rather brazen and thuggish looking man burst out in a hurry, cursing about debts, but almost looked like a dog whining with its tail tucked between its legs. Their shoulders collided, but the oaf did not stop until he was well on his way to making himself scarce. Genesis' eyes narrowed, interest piqued. Adjusting the inky black wrap cloak which sheen nearly glistened like feathers rather than fabric, he peered through the open doorway, curious, but cautious. "You'd think he had just seen a ghost." He spoke a curl of amusement tucked in the corner of his lips.

[feuerwizard]

Open Starter for all mutuals || Silly drunk Caleb inspired by this video

The potent effects of the many, many ales he had consumed throughout the evening were quite apparent in the deep, rosy flush that spread across Caleb's freckled cheeks, giving him a charmingly disheveled appearance. His ginger hair tousled and unkempt, evidence of a carefree state so unlike his usual brooding demeanor. With each slurred word, his thick accent became even more pronounced, a result of his lowered inhibitions. "You see," he explained passionately for what was likely the third or fourth tangent in the span of an hour, "it is all about the somatic components." His hand gestured wildly as he continued to ramble on, completely enthralled by his own thoughts and theories. "Magic is a lot like cats," Caleb trailed off, losing his line of thought very quickly, perhaps growing a bit distracted simply thinking of cats instead. "I’m… I’m not entirely sure where I was going with that, but it made perfect sense within my head."

[dramatisperscnae]

@hubrisse from [x]

The flippant response earns Jason a glower, Kyle only maintaining his own mask and uniform out of sheer spite stubbornness. This is Jason's apartment, it's not as though anyone's going to see and recognize him in here. More importantly, Jason s purposefully ignoring the question.

Which in itself is probably an answer, isn't it?

So Kyle folds his arms, drawing himself up to his full height - and ignoring how that still leaves him a couple inches shorter - and snorts. "Oh, I've been flirted with plenty," he says easily, "just never by you. And as to pretty boys around here, I'd think people would be used to seeing at least one around given you live here."

[darehearts]

good morning  !  if it ain't me being proud of my new and sad mobile header on this rainy saturday morning  😌✨

[askfallenroyalty]

Ok I'm kinda low key in agony I'm so uncertain of what to do (aaaaaaaaaaa)

But anyway I want to take action. The more I think about it just making small changes lead to ripple effects and that's just gonna cause a total rewrite regardless. I see no way where I'm not just remaking everything at this point

So it's a reboot. I'm doing a reboot.

But at that point I'm thinking "should this still be a webcomic, would making it a visual novel justify remaking it more?"

Cause idk I just have this horrible gut feeling that people are gonna get maddy that I'm rebooting ""again"" but it was originally a redraaaaaw. It wasn't supposed to be a reboot originally but now it iiiiiis

Aaaaaaaaughhh

So either I just get over myself and reboot it or I make it a visual novel but I don't have a TEAM to make it I just got some friends helping with story and I'd feel bad asking help oh god why is everything painful to handle I'm dying insideee

[rosetintedduelist]

@sweetcobaltblue

“Nemesis-sexual?”

“Do enlighten me, Herr Kaiba! I’ve been to Berlin und Amsterdam several times und have yet to encounter such an attraction!”

[pavlovianpanic]

❝ i told you already, ❞ he says, taking a few test shots, ❝ you're fine. no one is going to see these but me, anyway. you're worrying way too much. ❞ nathan is oddly comfortable, but that must mean it's because he's in his element. he's relying a lot on natural lighting today, the clouds parting perfectly for just enough drab and just enough fab. you're leaning too much, he seems to say, gesturing to stand straighter. there we go. perfect. ❝ see? you're fine. hey, tilt your head a bit for me, huh? ❞ — open ( nathan p. )

[stardstschlar]

@dragvnsovl // this

He hadn't expected to feel a tug on his arm, but when he had Jotaro had allowed himself to be pulled a couple feet back. A random stranger pulling him back to stop the Joestar from getting into a fight? It wasn't the first, wasn't the second and certainly would not be the last, either. Brows furrowing the raven haired male looked back to the commotion beforehand then looked back at the woman beside him and eventually tugged his arm away, "Should worry about yourself, y'know."

[aregebidan]

am incredibly drunk and just recommended the silt verses to the guest speaker professor man who came to talk about rivers and literature now the room is spinning chat am i cooked

[leschanceux]

@hstoryhuh wanted a  random  text! -

[ text; alex ]; don't ask questions, just pick a number between one and ten.

[lietwice]

"No one's ever taken care of me like that." - @jsbashirmd

NEVER? Garak blinks. That would mean... he's the first to treasure Julian the way he deserves. The first to really prioritise him, the first to put his all into Julian's pleasure. It's surprising, because he knows Julian isn't inexperienced. It's difficult to imagine how a person could be intimate with him without feeling the urge to take care of him properly. They must've done a half-job. Taken only what they wanted, and given little in return. Inwardly, Garak scowls at the image he's created of Julian's previous partners. Not one of them deserved to spend a moment in his company.

HE REACHES FOR JULIAN. They're both laying boneless against the pillows, sated and sleepy, but Garak simply can't let this moment pass without action. He rolls so he's half on top of Julian, lifting his head just enough to look down at him. "That, Doctor Bashir, is an absolute crime. Care to pass on the names of all those on this station who have failed to properly appreciate you? I'll pass them onto Odo. I'm sure he'll have them in custody by morning."

[rexheroum]

I’m thinking of putting more depth into the whole “Alastair can turn into a dragon” thing, specifically: (1) Him getting stuck in dragon form; (2) Him reaching dragon “maturity” and having a major growth spurt in dragon form; (3) Fighting in dragon form, and; (4) Alastair turning scales he sheds into armor and weapons for himself.