they had to get on a boat in Junon but she was so distracted by the beauty of the world that she didn’t care if it took them long. running errands, moseying as Cloud had come to say. Midgar was nothing like this. Her home had been the only place besides the church that bloomed the way it did. that was her influence, or at least she liked to say so. she could grow anything in Midgar, guaranteed. they often brought her things, the people who liked her, from out of town so she could add it to her collection. flowers, vegetables. Having a green thumb was an understatement. she had wandered off from the group running errands in the wilds to collect some wild flowers she saw. ones she had never seen before. somewhere she knew that she wasn’t ever going to get to go home… or that she wanted to, frankly. the future was unclear as it always was… maybe she shouldn’t have wandered too far, she didn’t seem to think anything out there was dangerous, at least nothing that she couldn’t handle by now. the old Aerith, the one sitting in a church waiting for something to happen probably couldn’t have used the materia she was using now. but she had learned, been taught, fought in big battles against big scary things… however, she was not prepared for this. something different, not that she remembered, than before. she knew what it was like to be watched but she hadn’t seen the Turks in a while. something whispering among the greens, a warning. the planet and its spirits were often warding. they said lots of things but their hushed practically indescribable whispers were alert, alarmed. she thought that leash had been loosened after her escape but maybe… maybe Hojo wasn’t finished after all.

“Reno…?” she brushed her thumb against the center of the flower, the pollen getting all over her finger tips. “Rude? If you’re trying to get the drop on me… think again!”

@meteorshcts

‘ should only be another day... maybe two. they're startin' to thin out. ’

daryl lowers his binoculars, looking over to @fortrauma if only to confirm that he'd been listening. this companionship of theirs is still fresh— they've only been moving together for a few weeks, at most. but when you spend even that much time around someone you don't know, it starts to become clear, at least to daryl, whether or not traveling side by side is going to work out.

they have a few things in common, at least. neither of them are particularly uncomfortable with silence— something daryl is grateful for. he doesn't know if they would have gone as far with one another if leon were the type to fill quiet moments with his own voice. and beyond that, they're both tactical; they excel in combat and work well as a team, especially when there's a goal that needs to be met.

so their partnership has worked thus far. daryl can't say he would be particularly distraught if leon suddenly decided to go his own way, but he must admit that it's been nice to have someone he feels like he can trust around. with a small gesture to leon, daryl slides his binoculars back into his bag. if the herd is clearing and they're moving on soon, they'll need to start packing up their little camp.

‘ — you figure out where we're headed? ’

something’s just not right / there’s hunger in my eyes, but you’re not looking into mine / in the morning light / i wake up next to you, but we’re no longer entwined / i want to love you with a ravenous hunger, tear your flesh into mine / you say you like me, but you’d rather that i listen quiet, keep it all inside / i romanticize a lust for blood and the glint of evil in your eyes / any kind of sign, something to tell me that your heart is burning just like mine / rend me to pieces if that’s what it takes to tell me that i taste divine / there’s something wrong but i just can’t quite place it, leave me on the precipice, i’m fine / something awakening and stirring inside me / i’m gearing up, your pretense in decline / i slice my heart up on a platter and find that you don’t even wanna dine / i gave my soul up, you can eat me raw / diced up and vulnerable, i’m yours to try / you’re glancing to the side, bored, and find that you don’t even wanna dine!!!!

Che waves a hand lazily to the man before him in greeting. In spite of his intimidating appearance, Che doesn't seem particularly bothered at all.

"Hey." he starts, casual as ever. Che isn't unfamiliar with Legion - there's no way he could be, but Whitestone Industries has a bit of a... reputation of sorts, so to speak. It's not exactly reliable - is the nicest way to put it - so that's why Che was surprised when Earl wanted to speak to him specifically. He doesn't know what it's about, but...

"Sorry I'm late. So? Got a job for me? Or is there some other reason you called?"

@deathfavor ( starter for earl! )

who: @thalassofins​​ what: damn ! no one understands his art ! where: some dumpster in some alleyway

the dumpster of the alleyway he had been occupying not even ten minutes ago -- oh, he heard rummaging ! oh, he had to take charge before it was too late, whirling around to go parading down. “ oi ! what’s the idea !? ” he called out, entirely ignoring that the other man was... basically closer to shark than human. hence why he was going through the trash, ihsan supposed. after all, ihsan had rummaged through trash for less ! nights when the drug money ( you know, money from being a ‘human’ lab rat and testing their new fancy drugs and creams ) wasn’t quite enough -- nights that he hadn’t sold anything. ( and the most annoying part ? he could easily force people to give him their money, he could easily force himself into the most admired creative mind of their time, but the one stand-up quality he had left ? he wanted that... artistic integrity (or maybe he just wanted to be validated every time someone ooo’d and ahh’d at his work) ). suffice it to say: trash could be delicious ! but then... he spotted something among the trash that had taken a tumble... and it was the saddest thing ever : “ oh -- come on, now ! ” he picked up one of the paintings he had sold that day... that had been thrown into the trash. he had the money, which was a plus, but at what cost ? they just saw him and thought ‘oh, that fucker could use a buck, let’s pretend to like his work then throw it in the trash!’ -- he remembered what they looked like... and made a mental note to find them later that night. but now ? “ you -- you, my friend, look like a man of taste. ” -- even if that sentiment went directly against how he had just been acting towards the shark ( no disgust, but certainly... a desire for him to leave -- though that would have branched towards essentially anyone ! ). “ is this a good painting ? -- don’t hold back, be honest. ”

"This is..."

Is he dreaming? Ryoji knows distantly that what he's seeing right now should be an impossibility. He knows that, and it's not like he isn't shocked! After all, the sky is green, the moon shines far too large in the sky, and coffins surround him as far as the eye can see. But maybe he's so surprised that he's not comprehending the sight as real yet, because for some reason... he doesn't feel afraid. At least, not in the way he thinks he should be.

There's just something about this place that feels natural in it's unnaturalness, a juxtaposition that fits just right in his mind. There is some anxiety inside him, he thinks, as he tries to figure out what this all means and what's happened to the people he loves... maybe that's the fear he's supposed to be feeling? Is it possible to feel both fearful and peaceful at once? He doesn't know what this feeling means... but somehow... he doesn't want to know.

"Makoto-kun!" Ryoji exclaims as he notices the familiar face - and all at once, a wave of relief sweeps through him. If Makoto is here, then everything must be alright. There's no reason to panic just yet, anyway - it won't help a thing, right?

Something is wrong, wrong, wrong. But Ryoji stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the voice whispering at the back of his mind, and focuses entirely on the boy who's always been there.

"Do you know what's going on? I don't know why, but when I woke up, it was like this... You're okay, aren't you?"

@fatexbound ( starter for minato! )

Closed starter for @thanaredreamtof

Working the late shift at the practice was not uncommon for the likes of Douglas Blackwood. Some nights were chaotic with emergencies, which he didn't mind because it kept him distracted from the confines of his own mind. Other times not so much. Either way, he was never short of work to do. Working nights made his job feel more rewarding; being open when a lot of veterinary practices were closed meant people could bring their beloved pets to him when they were desperate and had nowhere else to go. He adored his job, adored the animals he treated. They were cute and each had their own individual personalities - he never knew what to expect. And to see the difference he could make... it was everything. Sat in his desk chair, Dougie was typing up the notes from one of his consultations when he heard frantic knocking at the front door. At night, they kept it locked for security purposes as there weren't always many members of staff present. Immediately, he rushed up to his feet, practically sprinting out of his room, down the corridor, past the front desk, and over to the door. He quickly twisted the long and pulled the door open in a hurry, taken aback by the rain pouring outside. "Bloody hell, I didn't realise the weather out here was so awful." He looked at the person who stood before him and proceeded to step away from the door, ushering them in. "Please, come in before you get absolutely soaked," he said, shutting the door behind him. A warm, welcoming smile on his lips, though concern was etched on his features. "Follow me - I'll sort the reception/admin-ny stuff after," he added, heading to his consultation room without any further ado. He didn't want to spare any moment. "I'm so sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet. Just thought the sooner we get this one into the room, the better," Dougie said politely, offering another small smile. "I'm Dr Blackwood but I'm not one for the formalities - so please call me Dougie. How can I help?" He often went by his first name because it felt more normal to him, and it just made things feel a little more comfortable for the people he dealt with, especially in their moments of distress for their beloved fur babies.

ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ

for @behaneul

now seojun didn't know exactly what he wanted to dress up as for the halloween market so he was grateful that his best friend was there to brainstorm ideas with him. sure there were many ideas they could do together as a "couples" costume which he wasn't trying to overthink about but it seems they instantly went to their favorite, howl and sophie. it meant one of them was going to wear a dress. at least haneul was okay with that. there would be too much embarrassment for seojun to ever consider wearing a dress -- he didn't think it would look good on him if anything.

at least he could say that he did one thing that was on his list and he got to do it alongside one of his favorite people ever.

getting his costume on, he gave himself a once over in the mirror that sat in his room. his hair was slicked back and he decided to just leave his black hair to fit with the characters hair color later in the film. he may or may not have twirled around a bit to see the cape move but he wasn't going to say a thing. he was happy and glad to have someone to dress up with otherwise he would have ended up just dressing as a vampire or something simple. simplicity was his strong suit when it came to his clothing choices at least.

stepping out of his room, he went to look for his best friend. they were leaving together plus he wants to show him how he looks in the costume. "hannie! look!" the smile on his lips was bright, his body tingling with all the excitement he was feeling.

@liesandalibis

Even with the bright golds and accents of red, Faye Valentine slid into his space like a shadow pouring over the floor, content to stake her claim on the always vacant seat at the end of the bar.

Honestly, he was shocked some pervert hadn't stolen it from the establishment the last time a woman's presence had graced white leather, but Julia had been more than a singular woman- Almost untouchable, a mythical creature never seen and only spoken of in hushed and reverent whispers. She possessed grace and presence, this mysterious and otherworldly quality off-colored by a deep unspoken sadness.

Perhaps they had recognized the same lingering scent of cigarettes and melancholia in each other, Julia had endeared herself to the musician within the span of a heartbeat- all easy charm and warm, if distant smiles. He wasn't sure what she was running from, what horrors dogged and lunged at her heels, a past only spoken of in the vaguest of senses: I knew a man once, but that was a long time ago. For all the unknown years that spanned the period of time she referenced, she would speak of him fondly- His kindness, his eyes- Details that could fit almost anyone yet remained unique and special somehow.

Gren himself would only speak of his personal ghost in terms he should have long abandoned, that he was a taciturn and intelligent leader, stern and independent but capable of rare and touching moments of kindness. Of intimate moments stolen in the trenches, while violence and terror swirled around them in torrential storms on that bleak and war-torn moon. In a way, he'd never left Titan, some part of him had died and remained buried beneath the shifting sands. The current man that he was is a mere wraith, a revenant that hadn't been able to meet his end in all of it's glory and bloodshed.

Faye is so unlike Julia and yet hauntingly similar, it almost pains him to remain in her presence. He could have simply left things as is, but he'd taken her hand and dragged her away from a fight he wasn't sure she'd actually wanted. It was clear that something was eating away at her beneath the glossy veneer of charm and casual (if dismissive) air. So he'd ventured a guess based on his intuition.

She was terrified of being left behind and forgotten, like a childhood toy once well loved and cared for collecting dust on a shelf, edges fraying from neglect. So terrified, that the only recourse was to abandon those she cared about before they could potentially betray her.

"That's just my guess," he amends, giving a casual shrug of his shoulders as he nurses his glass of warmed vodka.

"You always have your guard up, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop. Can't be surprised when you see it coming a mile away, am I right?"

“Just because I write columns and give people advice about their love lives doesn’t ACTUALLY make me an expert about relationships.” Minnie gave a shrug of her shoulders. She always did her best, because well, it was her work, and she’d grown to love doing it over the years. However, she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience in the field. She was just good at being OBJECTIVE and it’s served her well thus far.

@svnandmccn; muse roulette !

ʚɞ

misa had probably spent one valentine’s day with someone that she was somewhat involved with, others were consisted of ‘galentine’s’ or just regular days depending on her mood. this year that she was now spending this one with someone that meant so much to her, she had to go all out since that’s what deiji deserved. . only the best. she was busy during the day so she settled for a classic dinner date, reserving them a table at one of buffalo’s most popular restaurants. it was perfect and so cute, booking their table on the rooftop where they had a cozy inflatable bubble to dine in, private so they could just enjoy each other without any distractions. she made sure to set up a nice flower display in advance as well, some red roses as those seemed to suit the older girl perfectly. she had other presents as well but she decided those could wait for after dinner when they would inevitably spend the night together. but for now, misa’s smiling from ear to ear as she removed her hands from where they were covering deiji’s eyes as they stepped foot onto the rooftop where a few bubbles were scattered around, then hugging her from behind. “ta-da~” she sang, beaming up at her lover. “surprise, happy valentine’s day!” ➳ @fieldofdeisies​

for @stageprop​

she calls her at an ungodly hour.

it’s 4am and mina is having yet another one of her frenzied painting binges for the umpteenth time this week. the brushes streak through the canvas in a fervid haste - scintillating tints of red erupting from her fingertips, her mind unbridled on a feverish high. she won’t take a break, she can’t; one second is all it takes for jisoo to pervade her reality, for the acrid fumes to smother her airways, for the same uncontrollable panic and dread paralyze her the way it did that night.

it happens. it happens again when she looks up to swap one brush for another and she swears she sees a shadow move from the corner of her eye. “fuck,” she murmurs, shaky hands hurriedly reaching for her phone - a chain of events she is all too accustomed to. impetus fingers press the third name on her favorites, and restless ears waits for the familiar voice of one nari to cut through the dial tone.

there are many things mina calls nari for at 4am - these days, they’re primarily for mina to desperately implore nari, seeking otherworldly excuses for her evanescing sanity. but before that night, it had been a mix of invites to reckless, sybaritic adventures that only two girls with money and a penchant for drama have the privilege of indulging in and her personal favourite, nari’s bedtime stories. to be exact, nari tells tales of the undead and through her hour-long spiels, mina brings them back to life on her canvas.

(when she is eighteen, she dedicates an entire exhibition to nari and her late-night stories. it is undoubtedly one of the most romantic things mina has ever done for anyone.)

“i think i just saw jisoo,” she says when nari finally picks up. there’s never really any need for pleasantries with nari; they’ve known each other long enough to disregard it. “he’s here. remember when you told me about that one ghost when we were like ten? do you wanna come check it out?”

— starter for clementine ( @notbit ) !

     heavy boots pound against the dirt. his mind replays what he saw: a frantic driver taking a chaotic path through the woods, meeting the end of the road and tumbling down a dry ravine. the thunderous sound of a car rolling and crashing through the thicket must have been heard for miles in the otherwise idyllic forest.

     daryl could easily be caught in the middle of a mass of shambling bodies by getting involved in this mess. the driver might not even be alive for all he knows, but something deep carries him forward and into the fray. though it takes some doing to get close to the car, his knife slicing, slashing, plunging into rotting viscera as soon as anything gets close, when he gets there he reaches in and drags the driver out as quickly as he can.

     she turns out to be a young woman— young enough that he's unsure whether or not she even knows a world before this one. daryl pulls her up into his grasp and grunts as he pushes to get them out of there, half-carrying and half-supporting her body as he leaves a hand free to grasp his knife. the level of noise from the crash no doubt has more of the undead on the way. he has to move.

     once he manages to maneuver them far enough from the source of the crash, he sets her down against the trunk of a tree. they should be alright here for the time being, but daryl will not want to stay here for very long if he can help it. his lungs fill and empty in a harsh, panting cadence while he catches his breath ( he hasn't had to move like that with a whole human body's worth of extra weight in a long time ).

     having a better look at her now, daryl feels a pit open in the depths of his gut. she can't be any older than what carl would have been, and it tugs at his heart before he puts the thought out of his mind. what now? he wonders. does she have people? was she running from someone when he found her? ‘ hey, ’ he says gruffly, nudging her shoulder. ‘ hey— you still with me? ’

no better release (/gen) than stopping six hundred words into a vent post and saying. hey actually i’m gonna stop thinking about this now. i have talked about it enough

Hello! How's your day going? I'm here to request an oddly specific stimboard-

Just a board themed on these two squishmallows, Jaelyn and Floxie. With cassgender Jaelyn and non-binary Floxie (of the candy bucket version) please!

as for the stims, black & glowing green stims for Jaelyn and bright neon colors for Floxie and maybe some just themes of love/being together?

Sorry for the oddly specific stuff, have a good day!

heres your stimboard, i hope you have a great day :]

"What are you looking at?" (The argument starter meme) for caleb

(Im @ask-hunter-wittebane )

From where he was, it was hard for anyone to make out what he looked like, given what part of the woods it was, it’d be easy to assume that the shadows were simply hiding a larger palismen. Not... Not a humanoid ‘creature’ that the local lore called a cryptid.

“...You look familiar.” The voice that came out of the shadows between the trees, it sounded like a person, not something mincing speech and... It sounded akin to Hunter’s own voice. And the movement within the shadows seemed very animal like.

@ask-hunter-wittebane