#this isn't a starter or anything
ain't never seen two tumbling best friends
starter for @princessmacedon
Non - Mission Board Task: Flight has already been achieved by mankind in the form of simply riding on a pegasus or wyvern, but what about human-powered flight? A mechanic arrives in Garreg Mach with a strange contraption and a dream: to find a filthy rich investor to fund his forays into human flight. Having arrived during the Guardian Moon, he spins it as a way to recreate the Immaculate One’s first appearance. Now all he needs is some bodies – er, volunteers that know how to fall from tall heights to demonstrate and help him gather some useful data. Whether or not you’ll get that “financial compensation” he promises is another story… [ Grants Flying +1 ]
Fodlan holds many surprises, some that can’t quite satisfy the samurai’s persistent curiosity while others overwhelm her sense of focus. It isn’t surprising, though, when she manages to find herself tangled along the threads of every suspicion. Adventure at its finest.
“We should bake together sometime,” her fingers curl around Maria’s hand as she speaks, “since you seem to enjoy sweets and I’m an expert baker so… I can teach you a few things, maybe!”
Tawny and candy-red strikes in a gaze and Hana smiles -- a feature that fits so perfectly upon her face. Her cheeks tinted a faint rosy hue as affected by the brisk breeze. Not too unlike the flush on Maria’s own cheeks. Though, maybe they shouldn’t have stayed outside for so long. “Let’s head back inside. Not sure if Seteth will be happy if we manage to catch a cold,” she laughs, the sound bubbling in her throat as her gaze shifts from the princess and towards the Academy’s entrance.
Maybe her steps linger on for longer than they should, but their pace lessens and it isn’t quite unforeseen how both girls soon come to a stop. Hana tightens her hand around Maria’s and she bites the inside of her cheek -- as if it could halt the words on her tongue.
Every thought remains heavy and they hammer against her mind, although lacking the fragile nature of her partner. Her eyebrows furrow and her lips purse. “I’m glad you're my friend,” her smile seems to soften, “thank you for giving me the opportunity. Seriously, I find it a bit --” selfish, she knows that this is selfish of her, “-- strange that you became my companion so easily.”
Yet, the samurai can’t find it in her to pull the smile off her face. She knows that she’s being unusual… this wasn’t the first time that she had indulged in the presence of someone else, only for her own pleasures. This… friendship was nothing more than a way to connect better to her. To the lady she pledged loyalty to, forever and always. Except, the idea seems forced. Pushing too deeply into the front of her mind. Surely, she isn’t restricting herself to this mere thought, right? No, it always happens this way. Just…
“Your eyes…” they glimmer the very same as Lady Sakura’s yet… dimmer, “are pretty.”
It’s terrible, the taste of her words taint her mouth and only then, does she become quiet. Her smile doesn’t fade -- only faltering slightly. This was becoming impossible to hold back. How long till she would run away again. Like she always did, unlike her father. Hana huffs, pulling her shoulders up to mimic a slight shiver and she laughs. “Inside we go! Heh…” and to her words, the samurai guides Maria towards the entrance, only letting go of her hand as they pass into the hall. It’s… not as crowded as she presumed it would be. Catching sight of the lingering students that appear more focused on finding warmth than them two, Hana turns her gaze back onto the pair of candy-tinted irises.
“Perfect! You two seem like a wonderful choice of volunteers!”
The voice immediately causes Hana’s shoulders to tense and her fingers to twitch evidently. It’s not the problem of who, but… their tone. It seems all too familiar, all too pressed through years of rivalry and sweat. It’s only when her gaze rests on the shadow beneath her feet does she act out -- quite dangerously sudden. Her fingers find purchase on the princess’s upper arm and her opposite wrist brushes against her opposing hip. The posture burned in her bones and beneath her skin, of course it was almost too easy to execute the defensive nature. Maybe only to her, but the next moment’s a blur. Her blade weighs heavy in her hand, although it wouldn’t hurt her as it does now. Maybe it’s the guilt that seeps into her skin at the realization that she could have accidentally harmed Maria in the process.
“Hey hey, now! Lower the --”
“Name and reason of presence.”
The man only tilts his head, the smile never faltering from his face. The tip of her blade barely touches his chest, but she knows -- hopefully he does too -- that it won’t take much to drive it through fabric and skin. “Excuse me?” She passes his confusion as idiocy and takes a step towards him, the man taking a matching step backwards. “I said, name and reason of presence. You aren’t wearing the uniform of a student nor faculty.” That is unless he is faculty just dressed… different. His demeanor doesn’t strike Hana as one that a professor would wield, so her blade only presses against his chest with another step forwards.
“I can’t kill you on campus, but I’ll definitely commit to a scar or two unless you answer me. Name and reason?”
3 notes · View notes
-. starter call
because I’m a greedy thread troll; please specify muse (or multiple ones, if you fancy multiple starters) either beneath this post or privately and, if a multimuse yourself, please specify muse on your end as well! That way I can whip it up faster, hoho~
7 notes · View notes
“It--it’s Mother’s Day?” Robbie leaps from his orange fuzzy chair, and looks at the calendar. He stares at the date in horror. “I forgot!” He begins thinking of what he could get his mom, if anything. She practically had everything, so gift giving was never easy. “I know! I’ll go visit.... after I whip up a card!”
1 note · View note
for: @thevictoryofthepeople (any muse of your choice!)
muse: Samuel, 38
plot: Inspired by a sentence starter I found in the tags: What am I supposed to do when I can’t even trust my own mind?
“What am I supposed to do when I can’t even trust my own mind?” Samuel’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. He didn’t look up from his glass, watching the deep copper liquid bounce against the sides as he swished the contents back and forth, back and forth. He let out a heavy breath through his nose, letting the glass drop onto the table. It wobbled, but the drink didn’t spill and it soon settled as Samuel crossed his arms on the small table, his shirt sleeves rolled up after a long day at what he felt was a dead-end job. “Sometimes...” He cleared his throat, not sure if he should actually vocalize what he was about to say; after all, vocalizing it would make it real. “I hear things sometimes. Usually it’s just this ... buzzing in the back of my head, like I’m in a subway tunnel. But other times ... other times the buzzing sounds a lot like words. Do it, do it, do it. Over and over again.” Samuel grabbed his drink and downed the contents, the alcohol burning on the way down. Then he laughed, but it was a humorless laugh and said, “I don’t even know what it wants me to do. Maybe I’ve just lost my fucking mind.”
4 notes · View notes
it’s so interesting how zzs is the one who killed innocent people (including at least one toddler, as someone pointed out, and a lady that was his brother’s s.o.), benefiting with his actions to a power-hungry rich asshole
and yet it’s wkx who’s generally seems to be seen* as a “monster” one, the one that needs to be saved from the darkness, even tho he killed and maimed to survive, as he lived in a place where it’s “kill or be killed”
* by the part of the fandom that i’ve interacted with and by me, somewhere in my head, on a background level, and also i guess by himself?
94 notes · View notes
( @edensadik | 02.02.21 / --:-- | war safehouse )
TIME HAS BECOME A NEBULOUS CONCEPT in the aftermath of her injury, moving in ebb and flows rather than in a simple linear fashion; it’d seemed to stretch with the tension of a rubber band when she’d been held beneath the weight of Kitty’s legs, then snapped back together in strange, discrete flashes of moments by the time she reached the safehouse, snapshots snagging on irrelevant details like the shape of Kitty’s hand and the blood that had stained them. The salt on her tongue helps clear her mind, though the steady stream of tears makes her view of the world around her blurry. She’s not sure why it feels like grade school again, standing in front of her father and explaining why she’d failed another maths exam, or why the credit card bill was so high again. The Virtue had made no wrong moves, nothing that would put her in her Horseman’s crosshairs, but defeat at the hands of another was difficult to stomach for a lady of War. She’s used to easy wins.
Not the pain of a bullet graze – had Carman a head for medicine or paid remote attention during human anatomy aside from when she could make pointed jokes about the reproductive system she may have been able to piece together that the ammunition must have caused a deeper abrasion, one that went below the skin to the dermis which was causing the incessant bleeding. The shakiness was from shock and adrenaline wearing off. The sensation of singed skin was from the literal gunpowder explosion that her thigh had been near. It looked and felt worse than the eventual result: scarring was inevitable, but some dermabond and rest and her skin would restitch itself. But all Carman can see is the red on her wound and hands, which is why all she manage upon catching sight of her younger sister is a broken, sobbing, “Eden!”
5 notes · View notes
// like this for a lil starter!! :) pls specify muse!
6 notes · View notes
Where & When: Anything from the *April newsletter*
"Please tell me you got a lighter,” Marlon said, patting his pockets down once, and then a second time. “Because I’m pretty sure I left mine at home.”
42 notes · View notes
❝ the risk i took was calculated. but .. well, i admit that i am terrible with math. ❞ / @averageimic , starter call.
1 note · View note
JELLYFISH // THE WORLD CAN BE SUCH A CRUEL THING
HAS HE STAYED UP ALL NIGHT MARATHONING MOVIES? Yes. Does he regret it? Mildly. Would he do it again? Defintely. Somebody please come collect him, he’s about to fall asleep standing.
2 notes · View notes
connor ... makes people’s lives easier to live in lots of very little ways. if he knows they’ll be back late he’ll turn a light on when they’re due to come back - if he’s aware they want to try xyz he’ll do what he can either to equip them with tools he’s worried they’re missing or to welcome them back after a good try - if he knows they are a proud person he will manoeuvre so he does not step on that, if he can, he will try to navigate that alongside doing the things that he needs to do. connor’s Way of Being are all these little things, anticipating needs and strengths-based building. it’s nice that he travels sometimes i think because .. there has to be a contrast, if people ever turn their attention to it. he doesn’t ask for or need recognition and he actually thinks very little of the fact he does it (that’s just how he likes to be, he gets a thrill of satisfaction when it Helps) (further confirmation that this is how to help them be True), but there are several things people could think were just ... luck. “it’s lucky x or y or z is the way it is”. But it’s actually connor. i think it’s nice that there’s that contrast to call attention to, sometimes.
3 notes · View notes
@hesfast pressed the heart!
"Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking?” Natasha questioned with a hesitant voice, almost as though questioning if she actually wanted to know the answer. It was a constant state of things crumbling down around them at any given moment. There were often moments where the ground underneath them would feel steady before it simply fell out from under their feet. It just so happened that Pietro was one of the only people she’d met that could move faster than the ground could. “I’d say everything is going to be okay but... who really knows these days.”
2 notes · View notes
TRAGICALLY HIP - ROAD APPLES . the 3rd studio album.
𝚊𝚍𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜/𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚜/𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢.
❝ the start of another new year- better call the newspaper up. ❞
❝ oh, i could cry, beg, and whine to every rebel i find. ❞
❝ well, nothing’s dead down here- it’s just a little tired. ❞
❝ i guess it looked quite primitive. ❞
❝ it won’t hurt you if you don’t move. ❞
❝ no- after me, i insist, please. after me. ❞
❝ it takes all your power to prove that you don’t care. ❞
❝ screaming out macbeth, just to see how much bad luck you really get. ❞
❝ must be one more thing here i really need... ❞
❝ why are you partial to that playboy con when you can see me naked any time you want? ❞
❝ i’ll be here waiting for you like i said i would. ❞
❝ how could you do it? well, how could you even try? ❞
❝ of course, they don’t know where the hell they are. ❞
❝ who’re you talking to? is she telling you i’m the one? ❞
❝ it’s a long time running, but it’s worth the wait. ❞
❝ you work against me and my friends, and you get left out in the cold. ❞
❝ you got what you want- you wanted release. ❞
❝ i don’t wanna wear you down- i don’t want any more than what’s there. ❞
❝ i think i'm ready, when i was shaking all night long, but my hands were steady. ❞
❝ she never had any time for me because i didn’t protest enough. ❞
❝ do you think i bow out because i think you’re right? or because i don’t want to fight? ❞
❝ i don’t know what came over me. ❞
❝ i didn’t think i’d like it here, but i swear, i’m on the verge. ❞
❝ don’t cry, baby, there’s no cause for grief. ❞
13 notes · View notes
gonna just go ahead and queue the starters i’ve written so far to post. i’ve not finished them all yet but i’m bored of them burning a hole in my drafts so i’m just gonna let go of them and finish the last few when i can! (but don’t expect much, these starters are super basic and simple :sob:)
Cure Grace approached the Byo-gen, her grip on her Healing Stick tight. She was shaking but she told herself she had to do this-- alone. She couldn’t drag the others into this. They meant too much to her.
“I want to talk.” This was something only she could do.
9 notes · View notes
a bull’s herd, a troll’s turf
Heavy hooves stomped with each step as he huffed and sniffed about. The troll had changed, for the most part. With foreign instincts pressing against his thoughts as intrusively as they were, it pushed for some changes -- the sort a number of “tricks” could provide. Digitigrade legs, long horns, an arched back, elongated tail, all brought together by large patches of thick fur coating mainly his arms; the last stretch that amulet could manage to change with its limited control.
A heavy huff shot from his nostrils.
He knew there were cows around.
Now it was a matter of finding them.
3 notes · View notes
Tag Drop pt 4
the boy with the bread: self
tell me do i still smell like roses?: self-promo
oh i don't care if you see me: raven's face
having an eye for beauty isn't the same thing as weakness except possibly when it comes to you: shipping call
if i stopped being so you know wounded we could take a shot at just being friends: starter call
i think this is the first time we've ever done anything normal together: thread
There’s a sense of dread that sits in the pit of his stomach upon waking up, and Akira can only guess as to why it’s there.
Sure enough, reaching out to grab his phone, the date November 20th stares back at him, and he can only sigh as he locks his phone and curls back under the covers.
The interrogation weighs heavily on his mind, on today of all days and it’s not really a surprise but... it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. The memories cling and trap him, as he in turn tries to shut out the world for today, just today.
Maybe it’s not what he should be doing, but it’s all he really knows what to do in this situation. He just wants to get through this day as best as he can. Even if it’s by doing this.
1 note · View note
@etyrnities / starter call.
The moment he locked sights on that black leather-clad back with two sets of swords ( steel & silver ), Jaskier immediately knew who it was and wasn’t afraid to shout out his name: “Geralt!” The bard bounded forward, a skip in his step as he makes his way through the tavern over to his friend. “Oh, it is so good to see you!”
3 notes · View notes