//as of writing this and tossing it into my queue, I've got a random burst of muse for amagai, so like this and I may make a small starter or send him into ur inbox whenever I get the chance!!

//hello everyone, I know I haven't posted on this blog in ages and I'm sorry for that! time and energy are ever fickle things in this crazy world of ours these days lmaO at least for me. Buuuut I have recently created a multi muse where I decided to add amagai, over @

So if anyone here (who hasn't already followed from my announcements on other blogs lmao) still wants to interact with amagai, that's where you will find him, and other muses! Thanks.

@bairdsings

silas leaves the echo of a lifeless body hitting the ground behind him as he slowly trudges his way out of the pothole he's spent for the past 2,000 years. bloodied hands stain the walls as they hold onto to steady his gait. he can see light at the end of the tunnel, both figuratively and literally. bright eyes sparkle in triumph before picking up his pace. noting that his lack of equilibrium is merely an illusion brought upon by the fact that he hadn't stood up since, well, ever. as his formerly calcified lungs take in the earned freshness of air, he stares in disbelief and wonder. even a monster as ancient as he can be struck with awe by the trees and newly found liberty. in the distance, light reflects on a silhouette. perhaps another snack for the road? "i need help!" a desperate cry that sounds awfully convincing escapes his crimson stained lips to lure his prey in.

this is an official shipping call! like this if you are okay with any of the following; plotting out ships ( crossovers & canonxoc welcome! ), sending you ship/flirty/ns.f.w memes, tagging you in random starters/edits and whatever have you.

Today so the Ides of March… so… !!! congratulations on making it onto the F/O list Stephen Meyers <3 !!!

peony : what would a ‘ happy life ’ look like in your muse’s eyes ?

BOTANICAL HEADCANONS ・ accepting! ( warning for discussion or mentions of pregnancies, childbirth, child neglect / abuse, religious trauma, and bad parenting overall )

there are two answers to this depending on pre-death and post-death Zephia, so i'll answer this question twice, elaborate on both, and compare the expectation between the two, as slight as it might be. the order will be PRE-DEATH → POST-DEATH → COMPARISON. warning for rambling and long paragraphs, too 💕

first off, a "happy life" in PRE-DEATH Zephia's eyes would be pretty basic and concise. she would bear a child by Lord Sombron and heal her loneliness. but that's where it ends. she hadn't thought of anything after gracing a womb with a child, thus, after her child would be born, what then? what would she want after? though this "happy life" would consist of Sombron giving in to her wish, would he not expect her child to become a pawn if she taught them the ways of the Fell Dragon? but if she didn't, if she tried to be a mother like her mother once was, would her child not snap their jaws at the world like it was theirs?

no matter how many children she has, there is no place for the Four Hounds in this happy life. they were temporary in her real conquest and, thus, would be discarded once she was deemed pregnant. after all, her only reason to be Sombron's follower in the first place was for him to realize how good of a mother he could make her, right? there's a question of where she and her child go but for that, she has no answer. whatever it be, it would be nowhere close to a Fell Church. that much was for certain. she saw the treatment they gave children—took part in it, even. but she would be damned if anyone besides herself hurt her child. this, likely, extends to Sombron. she chose him as a father simply because of how absent he is in the lives of his own children so it should be the same for hers. he won't care and her child's entire world will revolve around her.

but, a "happy life" in POST-DEATH Zephia's eyes is more thought-out but less sensical. her conquest of bearing a Lord Sombron's child is still a priority, but she does not know where it stands among the others. because, now, she realizes that she does have other people she cares for. whether she has one child or plenty, the Four Hounds deserve a place at her side, however, she doesn't know where or how that is. would she take them far from the Fell Church? even after its damages have already been done? would she name Griss as the godfather of her child? Mauvier? would she forgive Marni and, in some twisted form of fate, pronounce her the dead godmother? either way, she will have a child ( because, to her, she needs to start over. a clean new slate. a clean new family. ) but where would she go to raise them?

after her death, Zephia doesn't really understand her goals or desires. she's realized that the Four Hounds were the family she wanted, yes, but would they be enough? especially after she had such an influence in all of their fates? what's to say that Griss would even be a good godfather? and if he isn't, what would she do? it isn't his fault that he's the way he is as much as it's her fault for encouraging his desires. would she discard him from the new life or would she see her child as the problem?

now for the COMPARISON. let it be known that imagining Xephia with a child is a dangerous game, as her own traumas are only repressed, not healed, and putting a child under her care would only prove how inept she is at motherhood. she wasn't made or taught how to properly love someone and her definition of parenthood is a transaction of obligation from the child for being born so... yeah.

pre-death Zephia is selfish whereas post-death Zephia is not as blind to her prior desires. this has nothing to do with Sombron, unfortunately, as she still wants to have his child. that will not change. for over a thousand years, that was her goal and, likely, will not change until a thousand more years of self-introspection occur. however, post-death Zephia does now see the Four Hounds as a family, though her understanding of this doesn't reflect that. she doesn't fully recognize the impact Griss, Mauvier, and Marni had on her conscious. so while she definitely imagines them being a part of a "happy life", in comparison to pre-death Zephia who will not think of them as anything beyond what they are, i don't think she knows what or where they'll be. because, after all, Marni's death was by her hands and Mauvier is nowhere to be found.

it's simple to assume that a "happy life" in Zephia's eyes would be something cruel and purposefully full of malice ( ex. founding a Fell Church of her own, or another faction of followers, or reviving Sombron completely ) but the only goal in life that she can remember having is to bear a child and live a life of fullness with them. the specifics aren't and were never thought out fully.

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒

Abigail Hobbs, Number Five, Sam Adams, Anthony J. Crowley, Will Graham, Jim Moriarty, Gabriel Shurley, Will Byers, Brian Moser, Sebastian Moran

tagged by: @hvbris (( thank you x3 )) tagging: @kingofthewebxxx @waywardfeathered @smokedanced @magaprima @rapxir @elisethetraveller @batteredoptimist @the-perfect-scientist & whoever wants to steal it !

031, in front of a suspicious pool of blood in an empty parking lot.

How she loathed stakeouts. Nothing interesting ever happened on them, no matter the time zone, planet or galaxy she found herself in. This one, had been no different so far. For two hours now she had been holed up behind the wheel of a black '69 Camaro, ( which was far too conspicuous a car for these sorts of things, but who was she without her flair for the dramatic? ) a packet of barely eaten crisps tossed unceremoniously out the window before she reached over to the empty seat beside her, nimble fingers latching around the stem of a whiskey bottle.

Strictly speaking, the car hadn't been her first choice. Not really. It just so happened that the man who had rented it had happened to leave the key in the ignition when he'd popped into the store to finish signing the paperwork, and she had merely seized the opportunity fate had presented her. River supposed it was a small mercy that she'd found a car at all. Back in her Manhattan Detective days stakeouts had entailed camping out under a lamppost until someone's dishevelled husband or wife appeared in the window of the third floor apartment above her. She was halfway through prising the bottle cap off with her teeth when the gunshot went off. It was unlike anything she would have expected to hear in a place like this. More of a laser blast than an actual shot, but even if it hadn't have been, her interest had been piqued.

Cursing, River tossed the bottle back onto the empty seat, shoved the car door open and took off into the darkness in the general direction of where that sound had come from. It was a moment before she saw anything, weaving through the deserted car-park, hand closed around the grip of own gun at all times, until her eyes were met with a very interesting sight indeed. There, by the edge of the car-park, beside a couple of rusted skips, was a woman, standing over a pool of strange, shimmering liquid that shone eerily under the moonlight. Very suspicious indeed. As she edged forwards into the light it became apparent to her that the pool of liquid was in fact blood. A few litres worth, if she was right, and definitely extraterrestrial. River arched a brow. Perhaps she had been wrong after all. Interesting things do happen on stakeouts.

. ❝ Let me guess. This isn't what it looks like. ❞

set the scene/ accepting.

Slams a bat sticker across her office window as a Hi.

For over five minutes now, the woman’s gaze had been transfixed by the frosted glass window of her office - or, more precisely, by the bat-shaped sticker that had definitely not been there when she left work the previous evening. Admittedly, it had taken Louise a good few seconds to notice its evident presence, due to her questionable spatial awareness. Nevertheless, ever since it had caught her attention, the sticker, as well as the feeling of bewilderment it prompted, had been causing her to stand motionlessly before the office’s door while her hand loomed over the metal handle.

“…” The door then finally creaked open as the prosecutor stepped into the office, although her eyes remained lingered on the peculiar object in curious silence. The bat would be staying on her window for the time being - until she figured out the identity of the unknown intruder, at least.

//hello there would you like something from jin?? Like this.

▉ ――   The newspaper was barely holding together,   the way he held it to scrutinize the last detail of a recently solved murder   (  presumably solved anyhow ––   although by the knitting of his brows,   it really looked like he begged to differ  ).

@theresastargirl asked …   “            How do you take your cuppa?             ”

With his eyes irremediably immersed into the sensational news,   Sherlock didn’t even look up before he answered,             “            Without milk.            ”            Suspect confesses to murder of four women ––   pshaw!   Any confession was entirely meaningless when it didn’t confirm the actual evidence.   Impatiently and brooding,  hands pushed the newspaper away.           “           What would it take for you to confess to a murder you haven’t committed?   Violence?   Mere threats of violence?   Threatening your loved ones?           ”

everything drafted <3 im so excited to do stuff

Discussed starter for @uselessdevice ~ S-314 Rick & Rufus

Rick ran a finger over the hem of his empty glass, pondering whether or not he should get a refill. On one hand, unlike most versions of him, he wasn't big on getting drunk. Maybe it was because of his sense of duty, or perhaps he just hated to see what he looked like as an alcoholic. Whatever the reason, he was glad for it, because it kept him from giving into a habit that would have quickly resulted in an addiction.

However, calling it a night now would have meant getting home while Beth and Nora were still up and he wasn't in the mood to be once again face to face with the latter after the umpteenth discussion they had had. Under other circumstances, he would have gone back to the Citadel and not visited for a while, but that was no longer an option.

Not only there was no Citadel to return to, and damn if that idea on its own didn't fuck him up, but portal travel was...broken. He had no other word to describe it.

With a sigh, he former guard finally gave in and waved the bartender for a refill. Rationally, he knew that he should be grateful about the fact that his original Earth wasn't a wreckage as some. And he even had a place where to stay, something that most of his alternates probably didn't anymore. Yet, he couldn't help feeling sour about it. After decades of theoretical freedom to travel wherever he wanted, he didn't like the awareness that he was stranded, confined not only to one dimension, but also to one planet.

...Yes, he was working on building a spaceship, but it was a work very much in progress. He didn't have the right tools and, especially, the right materials, which meant that he had to make them from scratch and that was taking fucking forever.

Frustration flared up without a warning at the thought, and he had to stand up to resist the urge to throw his glass against the wall to express it. He moved off the stool abruptly, meaning to down his drink in one go and march off...but instead he ended up bumping in the person who had happened to walk by behind him in that very moment.

"S-Shit!" Rick cursed, as some of the liquor spilled on both their clothes. "S-Sorry, damn, I hadn't seen you. G-God fuckin' dammit, this really isn't my night...."

He hurried to set the glass down and grab some tissues instead, to try and clean up the mess he had made of the other's shirt.

"T-Tell me this isn't some real expensive suit or-or shit, because I'm low on cash an-and my daughter-in-law will hold it against me forever i-if I have to ask them for some!"

𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 — 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵, 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦. — emilie lygren.

noel chandler from star ocean: the second story r. affiliated with isola radiale. contains themes of survivor's guilt and persisting as a relict of one's people. penned by diz.

a zoologist with a pacifist's heart. noel uses his compassion for animals to single-handedly operate the endangered species protection zone while advocating for wildlife conservation and environmental sustainability.

despite being a master of symbology and said to possess a "mean left hook," noel is gentle and easygoing. he despises fighting and laments the need for it.

a nedian from energy nede. it's not a planet, at least not anymore. having destroyed itself many billions of years ago, it is now an artificial planet encased in a high energy field, isolated from the rest of the universe.

he seems to have a genetic mutation that results in more feline-like features when compared to his nedian kin. it's one of several reasons he feels as though he doesn't seamlessly fit in with the rest of nedian society, but he doesn't let it get him down.

really wants to know if he can pet your dog.

has a habit of sleeping in. it's tough out there for a guy who wants a nap.

where do you go after the end of the world? how will you fill those shoes, as a bastion of your kind?

application. | rules. | stats.

[[ SEMI HIATUS UPDATE!

things are…as okay as expected, I think. it was hard on the birthdays following the death of the loved one. I actually was traveling for a bit since my family thought that the vacation would be good — and in some ways, it was! but…in other ways, the loss still doesn’t entirely feel real, if I’m honest.

after returning home though, I received the good news I’ve finally been approved by my doctors to try a medicine that is supposed to help with my excessive daytime sleepiness. 🥱 and I have an interview for a new but likely to be boring job (compared to the mentally and emotionally and physically draining jobs from before, not to belittle it) at a local clothing store.

I would love to get back into the swing of plotting and writing, since I’m cautiously hopeful about the new medicine, but I have a massive migraine headache right now…so I’ll give an offer instead.

feel free to give this post a like/comment if you’re interested, and tomorrow (assuming I’m migraine free) I’ll either IM you here/Discord to either plot, find out which threads can be continued/have interest in being continued, and/or introduce some new developments I’ve thought about for Katie/introduce Colton or the multi muses…or if you really want to just get the ball rolling, I can write a short starter (most likely either lyric or dialogue based, pulled from the muses’ sources). 💙 ]]

With a name like iceberg, she half expected the drinks to be watered down. It was usually how things operated, wasn't it? Bar owners were like magicians, a little slight of hand, distracting lights here, loud music there and before you knew it everything in your wallet was gone .... she was pleasantly surprised to find that this was not the case here.

One hand firmly grasping her third whiskey of the night, River reclined in her seat, frowning slightly. Yes, Gotham city certainly was unique. ❝ No. Sorry, I can't wrap my head around it, he dresses as a bat, to fight crime? ❞ A glance at her glass, brow arched. @banschivs ❤'d // accepting