#feel free to continue if you'd like

[ssolessurvivor]

just a thing for @paramounticebound <3

Of course they had to come into Klingon space, of course Khan had to try and go for some of the toughest damn aliens out there. Maybe Logan aught to smack his commander, throw some sense around that skull if they ever got back to the ship. At this rate, he'd reloaded thrice now: running low on ammo. He insisted on using guns because they were familiar, he knew how they worked. None of this stun business: when he shot, it was to kill.

In the ambush, he'd lost track of Khan in the chaos, trying to lay low only to turn on a dime and shoot one bloody, the thump to the ground and Logan continued on. Two more descended: lined up just so they were felled with one bullet. In the heat of the moment, he decided heading for high ground was best. He couldn't very well do his job in the trenches, and that's where he was, though by whatever grace he wasn't cornered yet. Steeling his nerves, ignoring the sounds around him ricocheting off these concrete walls, Logan made his way through relatively swiftly. Stopped only by a few Klingons too close for comfort. Dodging their massive sword-like weapons wasn't too difficult: while maneuvering with the wall as a springboard, one of them hit the other, and a swift kick to the face had them disoriented enough he could run out of there.

There he is.

Gun in hand, Logan slowed and fired: headshot downing one daring to sneak up behind Khan, and Logan's sprinting again. There's an odd desperation in his gut, festering like an infection, and he doesn't know why. Cut off by another alien, Logan goes to his knees, the momentum keeping him skidding on the ground while Khan fires for him. It goes a little too quiet after that, and Logan's hair on the back of his neck stands on end. The stairs to get to Khan seem twice their usual size, but once he's there, he doesn't rest, doesn't let his eyes settle.

"We have to get out of here." He takes one sparing glance at Khan, the rage evident in his own eyes as something akin to a glow. "Let's keep moving, I don't want to be stationary too long." What is this? Where is it? Logan is antsy, visibly stepping from one foot to the other, eyes darting to every dark crevice and crack, every hidey-hole a sniper might be. They wait too long for his liking, the rest of the crew finally coming to the dais and heading out before he and Khan do, and that's when it hits him.

Two things happen simultaneously: the laser appears on Khan's back, and he hears a muffled Klingon war cry. It's just enough warning.

It's as if the world is rendered in slow motion, black and white shapes and shadows warping his state of mind. His feet can't get him there fast enough but he shoves Khan with all his strength and a yell escapes him from the exertion of it all and the pain lighting up his abdomen. The projectile is so much more powerful than a normal bullet that Logan is flung backwards, lands on the ground until he rolls and collides hard with the wall behind him. Eyes squeeze closed, teeth bared at the pain radiating through him with an unnatural searing heat. Blonde head lolls back against the ground now, hands coming to shield the wound but feeling his own blood trickle over his fingers.

He can't speak, can't find the energy to say anything to Khan and the crew, to get out. Maybe somewhere far off they got him: he recalls seeing flashes of light amid the darkness of the place, maybe they got him. Logan still can't open his eyes, feeling beads of sweat on his brow. Maybe...they left him. As he knew they would cajole Khan into doing: they never liked him anyways.

[angelshiraeth]

that might have worked once, but not anymore. ( an ask meme to say hello!! ) || @heavenfelled

"Crowley..."

They're standing on a precipice. Metaphorically, of course. Although it felt very real to the angel from where he stood, watching Crowley with a furrowed brow. The gap between them was hardly large, but it seemed to stretch for miles.

Everything about this felt wrong. It had always been the pair of them, separate from the rest of the universe – heaven, hell, humanity. They had their own little bubble, an understanding. But now, it seemed as though that bubble had popped.

Aziraphale shifts, hands clasped anxiously. "I– can't it work again? Just this once?" He pleads. There's something desperate in his voice, fuelled by the gnawing feeling that if Crowley walked out that door this time, the demon just might not come back.

[dehorned]

Reaches over and grabs his horns. "Hm!" - Unprompted

         Hellboy lowered himself to the eye-level of the small Japanese child, in thoughtful consideration that his massive height could be... well, intimidating. But then again, this was no ordinary child. She smelled similar to the man-eating demons he had ran into. An oni, he deliberated. Highly dangerous and troublesome beings that need to be killed on sight. 

         … But instead of reaching out for one of his more merciful weapons from his coat’s pockets, the big red detective’s gaze softened at what seemed to be a dried bamboo on the girl’s mouth. It seemed to have been tightly wrapped around her face. Like a muzzle. 

         Jeez, he thought grimly. The poor kid. 

         Right when a solemn Hellboy was about to get back up, he was taken aback at her sudden attempt to touch the two stumps a top his head. Though he had filed them again recently, Hellboy could still feel the ghost of his once proud protruding horns.     

         ❛ ... Yeah. You're not like the others, huh ? ❜ he murmured gently, in a way his gruff voice could muster. And seeing as the girl took such great interest, Hellboy decided to oblige and to tilt his head down more so that she could further inspect his technically, amputated horns. ❛ You got a name, kid ? ❜ 

send a random IC ask !     ➤    always accepting .​

[ladyhavilliard]

mo dao zu shi tarot

wheel of fortune: good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point

the tower | jiang cheng

death | wei wuxian

[hellmxses]

@angelichooves asked: [ needs ] sender asks receiver what they need. Husk to Angel Dust PROMPT | still accepting!

it's a good question. husk always knows what to ask, but angel never seems to know how to respond. on the surface what angel would love is a drink, a nap, someone to just speak to so he can forget about the days events; but then on a deeper level, he needs something more. he knows the way his fingers are picking anxiously at his sleeves and the way each time he isn't fiddling with something that his hands are shaking to a concerning extent.

and yet he doesn't know what he needs. his days been awful. he doesn't need a drink when he knows he's going to just feel worse tomorrow when he inevitably gets called back to the studios. the studio is why angel feels bad. yet he can't say it, like that godforsaken contract was muting him, keeping him silent.

❝ i dunno. ❞ his voice is distant, flat. ❝ i really don' know, husk. maybe just ... someone ta' talk to? somethin'... somethin' that isn't real... jus' talk about somethin'. i'll listen. ❞

[okaioh]

thinking about death family coffee shop modern life au thing (it's totally not midnight right now and I'm writing this out because i can't sleep)

thinking about how people who come by would make fun of Phil and say how he's enforcing child labor on his kids from the way they seem to be running the shop rather than him himself but really - they didn't even ask Phil if they could help they just kinda started doing their own thing because..."why not?"

Chayanne started baking the best damn pastries anyone's ever tasted while Lullah found a passion in latte art along with playing music to entertain customers and they're having the time of their lives

(they would tease phil about not getting paid enough and he'd affectionately call them little shits and still refuse to pay them <3)

Phil is set at the register because even if they have their own step stool to reach over the counter - Phil is not allowing them to be taking people's money, they are staying back in the kitchen or at the front for entertainment - managers orders

Missa works alongside Phil at the register - he's the one who started teaching Lullah how to make latte art and so their job together is making people smile with cute cats drawn on their lattes or silly drawings on their coffee cups / napkins

(there's also the occasional moments where he lets Lullah draw out the next few orders while he gets to watch Phil work with a love struck expression on his face - and then promptly snap back to reality thanks to the coffee he just accidentally spilled all over his apron)

the place they work at is also conveniently underneath from where they live - they own an entire apartment building on top of the shop and somehow the government doesn't seem to care about that - Phil one day just kinda said "yeah, this whole things gonna be mine now" and no one really stopped him

(the other apartments are really just places for storage, some rooms are gardens and animal sanctuaries for Lullah while some are just filled to the brim with crates full of potatoes from Chayanne)

and they all just live happily together <3 no problems or issues at all <3 no white bear that tries haunting them or anything nope not here <3

[brutalmasks]

hello, everyone! i hope you all experience the very positive vibes that this picture exudes today and are also as happy as this little guy:

i just wanted to give y'all a little update while i'm at it as i finally have more time this weekend to spend on here and thus, i shall be answering some asks, including ones that are probably long overdue NGL (,,: ( and i am legitimately SO sorry about that. exam season has been keeping me BUSY busy but i only have two exams left, which is good ), and more recent ones! but yeah, i also wanted to highlight how thankful i am of y'all for sticking with me and this acc, as well as always showing me support for my content!! so thank you all so MUCH for being the best people around, in my humble opinion ❤️🫂 y'all are amazing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise,, i love you all dearly, and i shall be signing off by wishing everyone here to have the BEST day ever!

[universestreasures]

@shacchou Sent:

❛  You don't ask for a lot. ❜ An observation accompanied by an imperturbable tone that betrayed no immediate emotion; baritone voice resounding through the cold surfaces that encompassed the woman's cell. Not unlike a statue, the priest stood before the iron bars; blue eyes fixed on her, and the Millennium Rod held tightly in his grasp. Since the incident that took place a few days before at the underground arena, he had given the order to his guards to not only move her to a new location unknown to anyone but him, but also to provide her with anything she might ask for or require; food, drink or clothing. And yet, not once had she requested for more than what little was given to her. (Kisara, from Priest Seto)

Following the incident, Kisara had went into yet another string of days where she did nothing but sleep. Her body was under a constant state of pain and discomfort, no doubt in part due to the years of struggle from being deprived of basic necessities. So, rest was often one of the only ways to restore her strength. However, after what she had learned from those of the Pharaoh's palace, there might be another reason for her frequent sleeping state other than because of her deprivation of food and drink.

She had been told she had a monster, otherwise referred to as a Ka, living deep inside her, one akin to a god. Of course, she was hesitant to believe such things. Kisara, despite her unique appearance, was not one to think of herself as noteworthy. She knew her limitations, knew of her fragility, and lived each day simply to survive. She had no purpose other than that...at least maybe until now.

If she harbored such a mighty beast, the 'white dragon' as Lord Seto described, could she potentially use it for the greater good? Despite not being from this land, the young woman was well aware of those like her who struggled daily. Even those who would curse her existence and stone her were in a similar position. They didn't want her to 'curse' them to more anguish than they already had.

But perhaps that 'curse' of hers that seemed to be around her since she was born could be reversed and instead turned into something good, something that can help people come out of the darkness and into the light. Though, there was an obvious hurdle with that. Kisara isn't aware of even how to summon her Ka, let alone control it and use it.

Could she be taught how to do that? Could Lord Seto teach her how to do that?

Her thought of the man who saved her is soon followed by his appearance on the other side of the bars, as if on queue. Kisara slowly stands from her bed, moving towards his direction. At his inquiry, she simply bows her head in respect before answering.

"You have already given me more than enough, Lord Seto." Her voice is soft but laced with no hint of dishonesty. "You are the reason I am still here today, after all. I am eternally grateful to you. Kindness like what you have shown me has been...a scarcity in my life. I only hope I can manage to repay you for it someday."

[championsofthegate]

@starbvund asked: ( @starbvund to Alras from Halsin ) “A bhaalspawn? Yes, even those of us who make the forest our home have heard of them.” Halsin found it curious to be quizzed on this. A strange lot he’d agree to help, but they needed his aid. He was happy to give it. “Not that I’ve ever met one. I may be three hundred years young, but there are still many things I’ve yet to experience.” Which made him wonder… why ask?

Ah. His ears drooped slightly, a little disappointed, but it couldn't be helped. Alras had hoped Halsin, being nearly 300, would have some knowledge on bhaalspawn. Something that could help Alras unravel whatever was inside him and his sister.

"I suppose there are very few people that have," Alras said with a sigh. "I had just hoped... I've read a little, in the books we've found in the area, and thought perhaps someone might know something more." It seemed odd that there were so many books strewn about. Almost as if someone wanted him to find them.

But then, there were also books about vampires and Shar worshipers, so it wasn't just him they were playing a prank on, if that was the case.

"There's... have you ever felt the urge to kill someone, against the very fabric of your nature?"

[mcrcki]

@mischiefxmuses​ said : “  please, stop—  ”   - Hunter to Omega

violentine’s day memes || still accepting

“stop what--” omega said, looking back at her brother, their eyebrows furrowing. “hunter this is great! why are you freaking out! it’s like, the practice droids except she moves so much faster.” omega mused, grinning back at him. “they can’t get hurt, so there’s nothing to worry about!”

[sindarweek]

Annnnd that's a wrap 👏

Thank you so much to everyone who created something, and to everyone who liked and reblogged people's work. It was so fun to organise this event and to see everyone's creations!!

[bekaito]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖨𝖫𝖤 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝖳𝖨𝖬𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖤⠀⠀⠀

hi! here are some links for Kaito with some info on him and a bit about what led him to make the big decision to fly all the way to Korea and dream of wanting to be an idol~ if you would like to plot feel free to like this post and I'll slide into your dm's for some plotting! ( his connections are being worked on rn and will be added more over time as well because I was out all day long which messed with my plans on finishing those up before his acceptance... )

[mmoneystones]

Ares always knew her by her feather.

It was always such an easy thing to spot in any crowd, bobbing above the sea of heads like a cute white buoy. Even tonight, when everyone was sporting garb running the whole gamut of strange to elegant, he could pick it out from across the ballroom.

"Nanna!"

He was calling her name before she even had the chance to turn around, and without an ounce of hesitation in his tone. He could already picture no face but his cousin's waiting to smile at him from the other side of that head of short gold locks.

"Perhaps you've heard from Leif already, but we've revived our duel, and -- "

He talked on, already picturing no face but his cousin's waiting to smile at him from the other side of that head of short gold locks. So imagine the rare shock seizing his face solid, and the way his voice so quickly packs up all its warmth and retreats back to silence, when a pair of copper red eyes turn to meet his.

He couldn't help but blink, perhaps hoping those red eyes might suddenly turn gold like he remembers, and save him from this awkward silence.

"…I beg your pardon," he finally said in much stiffer tone, after having finally made some sense of the doppelganger standing before him. "I mistook you for another."

Just when he thought he'd grown numb to the strange happenings of this continent...

Citrinne has now taken flight to the middle of the ballroom, weaving through couples as if participating in a dance of her own. She would love to join them all eventually, but there is still so much to see tonight...and for a dance to really sparkle, the music must be just right. She searches for nothing, yet everything at once.

Nanna!

A voice from behind appears to be searching as well, though their calling makes his target more discrete. Citrinne has heard this name previously, from Ethlyn's visual comparison. Almost like a prophecy, the mixup has come back to bite her.

The Brodian doesn't turn immediately, somewhat dazed by the man's zealous speech. She is guilty of overhearing what could possibly be personal secrets...with the name "Leif'' coming up once more. Is that three times now? He must be quite the popular one, on top of any strength Citrinne could already assume.

That's enough eavesdropping. The poor man will already be shaken enough even before he started pouring his heart out to a stranger.

Ruby eyes interlock with the person previously behind her, revealing a tall, blonde man layered in black and gold. He wears a cape similar to her own, ignoring the obvious color difference.

Citrinne does not speak at first, retaining her neutral expression - one that could be mistaken for a glare on first observation. She does not mean to produce uneasy silence, but she is too busy staring over this mystery man to properly speak. Their faces are unmistakably distinct, yet it is hard to not be reminded of one of her elder brothers. His previous tone even matches whenever either would be excited after a grueling battle.

The tone he speaks in now is rougher, more formal. While the shift is understandable...she almost wishes to hear first voice again. The voice of faraway brothers.

"No pardon is necessary," Citrinne finds the right words to address the stranger. While her face refuses to change, her voice sounds gentle and understanding. "You confused me because of this feather, right? Another person has already forewarned me of such circumstance...this Nanna must be very special to you."

She doesn't mean to pry into their relationships, just make idle conversation to recover from the misunderstanding. Nanna and Leif were said to be lovers, so this man must be...a sibling? Relative?

She holds out a hand to reach the taller man. "I am Citrinne. I may not be the feathered blonde you expected, but I hope we may become acquainted nevertheless. May I ask for your name, good sir?"

[thelionheartedo3]

wip wednesday

ty for the tag @agentnatesewell! <3 this is something that I have revived from my folder of fics from 2019 that never saw the light of day dhbfdh

She’s lured out of her dream by the creaking of the faucet, before it splutters to life, the pressure of the spray hitting the tiled walls familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

Ely rolls over in bed to stare at the bathroom door in half-asleep bemusement, a pillow still clutched to her chest.

She blinks the muzzy haze from her eyes as she pushes up on her elbow, glancing around the room. Nothing seems to be out of place, though she can’t truly tell in the dim glow from the string lights overhead. 

There’s definitely someone in her shower, though. 

A look to the closed door tells her the light is off; not a necessity for someone who could see in the dark, she thinks, especially with the night light plugged in by the sink. (That had been deemed a necessity after she had first moved in and banged her hip on the counter so many times she had lived with a semi-permanent bruise until she got the damn thing.)

Only two people have a spare key to her apartment—and somehow she doubts Adam’s used his to come use her shower in the middle of the night.

[mastcrmiind]

@vcndetta asked: ' did you get any valentines? ' ( zola and ginny )

ginny chuckled at the question, valentines weren't really her thing. "i mean, i got a date to this ball thing." she shrugged her shoulders as she spoke "she seems cool. what about you?"

[apathynoir]

"Dwyer," the sound of Forrest's heels echo against the pavement as he approaches Jakob's son. The younger butler had existed on his peripheral during their time in Corrin's army, but he had never properly spoken to the other boy.

But, oh. There were some things that were far too... whatever Dwyer was wearing - oh my! It was simply dreadful and Forrest couldn't take it anymore!

"Please let me make you a new outfit," Quick as cat, Forrest pulls out a measuring tape, ready to take the other boy's measurements if he was given permission, "you have been wearing that same thing as long as I have seen you around! And it's too atrocious! I can't let you keep going on with your life like that!"

fashion is not something dwyer concerns himself with. "looking good" and "keeping up with trends" are things that hamper his work to an unnecessary degree, so he never bothers with it. what's the point? his uniform is enough to denote his job and is comfortable enough to work in. the only things he's "serving" are drinks!

when he hears forrest approaching him, dwyer starts looking for quick ways out---he knows this will be a debacle and a half if he sticks around. unfortunately he isn't quick enough, as when he turns around forrest already has a measuring tape pulled out from... somewhere. dwyer's eyebrows knit together and he slumps, ready to complain. he's got things to do today. why does he have to go through a fashion crisis response?

"look, forrest, really, i appreciate it and all," begins dwyer, putting up a hand, "but i don't need this kind of stuff right now. i wear what i wear because it's necessary." to prove his point, he straightens out his uniform; it's nothing to look at, but everyone has to wear one. it's not that big of an issue, is it?

"i know you're probably not talking about my uniform, but... i had to wear it back home. y'know, 'cause i rode horses? i could still buttle in it, so it was no big whoop... is it really something that has to be fixed right now? i was about to go take a nap..."