@myricds ♥’d this !

emma sits beside her best friend, resting her head on her shoulder as she pulls her hand into her lap and lets out a breath. 

      ❝ how is it possible to feel like we both won and lost at the same time... ❞

for @myricds | tris prior / verse: titanic

Jughead had noticed the girl from the moment she had boarded, he’d seen her from his spot in the tiny cafe where he gambled his hand at a ticket. Her dress, sparkling in the light, caught his attention and he knew, somewhere deep down, he needed to get on that ship. Because of her? Probably not, he wasn’t that much of a hopeful romantic, but the sight had made him believe New York ( and ultimately Wisconsin ) could promise a better life. He had spent too long overseas — it was time to return home.

Now, as a passenger of this great ship, Jughead went searching around to memorize every hallway, every door, every lamp post. He’d re-tell this to his father as they fished out on Lake Wissota, making sure his father felt like he had boarded the ship himself. Maybe one day they could sell enough fish at the market to both buy tickets. Besides, third class wasn’t all that bad when you could pick locks and wander the off-limits first class.

                                 ❛ We can swap if you like. You don’t look too happy up here with all this fresh air. ❜

These words were shared as he leaned over one of the many railings, eyes looking out towards the horizon instead of at the girl nearby. She was alone now — at least from what he could tell, and it was his chance to steal a bit of the magic that had encouraged him to get on this ship in the first place.

         “ what ?  i  didn’t  kill  ‘im. ”  bucky commented whilst he fell into step beside her, tucking his hand into his pocket and not even sparing a glance back at the would-be-mugger that he had just thrown into a back alley like a disregarded piece of trash. in fact, the hooded man was lucky that bucky had left him with all of his limbs firmly attached given that he had singled him out specifically because he only had one arm.  “ he’s  lucky  i  didn’t  put  his  head  through  the wall. ”  //  @myricds  ♡’d  for  a  starter  ( nat )

            TREMOR RUNS THROUGH SOLDIER’S HAND ;      he touches her with reverence ;       a worshipper seeking  sanctity  in her embrace.       tears that will never spill turn eyes to mirrors    r e f le c t i n g   her concerned gaze.       a breath      two ::                    one to stall,            one to steel  for what   must be done.           ❛       I HAVE TO GO   ❜     words ripped from shredded throat ;;         tone wrecked with emotions he struggles to push down.     they have only just been reunited but the sirens BLARE and people scream into comms ;;        the mission is failing.            ❛       they need me more than you            ❜

@myricds​ liked for a starter lol [ x ]

↳ inej ghafa ⇾ @myricds​  ⇾  (c)

Unease and restlessness creep into his bones, anxiety buzzes to life under his skin and forces him to shift his weight from foot to foot. Jesper isn’t sure what the hell compelled him to say anything in the first place, he never did know when to keep his mouth shut - or when to give up. His love/hate relationship with the gambling halls of Ketterdam is no secret, but he realizes a second too late that now wasn’t the time to joke about it.

“No.”

When he says it he almost believes it because really there shouldn’t be a problem. If anything this job should keep him out of the halls and put enough money in his pocket to pay off his debts. But this conversation has him itching to escape, to lose himself in the thrill of a game. If this job went the way it should he’d have nothing to worry about. His fingers brush the handles of his guns before coming to rest on top of them. He’s flooded with dread at the possibility things could go south, that if he didn’t end up dead on this job he’d have to face everyone he owed money to empty handed.

“I won’t be the one who ruins this job for us.”

      ❝ Katherine , ❞ it’s hardly a greeting , judging by the way the name comes so harshly from wary lips . Elena straightens her posture only slightly , head canting to the side as she meets the other’s gaze . ❝ What is it this time ? ❞

&& @myricds !

“you look LOST, traveler.” it’s a hot day, and his uniform is making him sweat - but it’s a GOOD day. they’ve taken out a camp of great khans just the night before, so they’re relaxing today. boone feels accomplished, and there’s almost a smile on his face when he addresses the young woman. he lowers his sunglasses. “you looking for new vegas?” | @myricds

              “ if  they  can’t  buy  you  off  they  take  to  trying  to  kill  you, ”  kavinsky explained offhandedly as he sliced into the hindian pear in his hands -- the dried fruit was one of the only nonperishable luxuries on the ship, the sweetness enough to make his mouth water before he had even put the piece into his mouth and only once he had finished chewing did the smuggler finally lift his gaze to meet hers. there wasn’t much money to be made in rescue operations, especially not the rescue of the resistance whom as far as kavinsky was aware, was flat broke now that their main financiers were a little busy being scattered debris in outer space but the first order had just decimated half of his employers and given his previous run ins with the militarized group he doubted they would hire him. seemed only rational that he would come to the resistance, enemy of my enemy and all of that.  “ so -- ”  kavinsky held his hands up,  “ figured  i’d  throw  my  lot  in  with  you  guys.  can  fit  up  to  fifty  people  in  my  ship  if  we  all  suck  in. ”  //  @myricds  ♡’d  for  a  starter  ( rey  from  jakku )

with freshly backed outposts across kul tiras and zuldazar, the horde was making progress. with the failure - or maybe the distraction- of the san'layn,  nathanos was researching any opportunity to increase the horde’s grasp. watching over minor skirmishes when he got the chance and making sure to keep a keen eye on the ‘champion’ of the horde. 

so far,  things had been going well, but the alliance was bound to  enact  a counter attack.  they were bound to one  day  strike back. as for when? he didn’t know, but he was going to prepare for it. one way or another... the horde wouldn’t lose any of their ground  in both places - he’d make sure of that.

❛ ---- my lady, ❜ he said, giving a nod as he studied a report in his hand.  ❛ i have some good news. ❜ 

// @myricds

🎀 – pulling their hair ( pick a verse/context ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

🎀 – pulling their hair.    touch meme. @myricds

His knees fall from under him. The brunt of his weight caught by his palm as he spits blood just above his right thumb. More threatening to spill from the back of his throat. His voice hoarse with the rumble of a laugh scratching against his throat as he hears her approach. His position stayed by wobbly limbs ; each one threatening to give way under him and let gravity press him back into hell, he supposed. 

But there isn’t much chance for that. 

Not much room for explanation either as he feels the grip of her hand pulling his head back; forcing him to look up at her with her blade and her rage. Which, to be fair, he noted was probably apt, all things considered. Nonetheless, he couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle at her rage –– at the anger that possessed her so easily. A threat and he quiets the laugh to a bloodied grin ; her control trembling just a little bit. Enough to earn an arch of an eyebrow from her big brother. 

“I imagine that would be smart, cutting my throat now. Throw me back into hell and all. Clean cut. “ Shrug, his throat bobbing against the press of the blade at each word exhaled through gritted teeth. “ End it all before it starts, but don’t you think, just for a moment to give your brother the benefit of the doubt? Or at the very least, suicide a second thought?”

“The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.” ~ from inej to kaz!

ursula le guin sentences  ||  @myricds​ / inej

Kaz looked at her without speaking. His Wraith was a slip of a girl, seeming sometimes as delicate and insubstantial as her namesake; but she had a presence to her which no spirit or haunt could. It could be –  and he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, perhaps especially not to her –  soothing for Kaz to be in the same space as Inej, both of them silent and not making a single demand of each other. 

Everyone else wanted something from him, had expectations of him… to be Dirtyhands, to be clever or ruthless or hard, to tell them what to do, and when, and to pull off his masterful plots. It was what Kaz Brekker did, after all; he’d taken the Dregs from a nothing gang to prosperity. He’d made all of that happen, for himself. For his brother. For vengeance.

But most of the time, Inej didn’t ask things of him that he couldn’t give. She could sit in a room and just be. She had the knack of it, of a stillness and a quiet which made others overlook her presence, as though she wasn’t in the room at all. Kaz never overlooked her. Never could. He always knew it when she followed him, and he knew without looking around when she’d crept through the window behind him. Some of it was just survival instinct; he hadn’t made it this far without knowing when he wasn’t alone. But some of it was just… Inej.

Most of the time she was restful for him. Sometimes, she got in a mood like this one, and made him start thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. Feeling things which would make him weak when all he needed was to be strong. His hands flexed and curled in on themselves; the thin leather of his habitual gloves too flexible and warm and soft to creak. 

“Who said a thing about justifying anything, Inej?” His voice had all the creak his gloves did not, a rough-velvet rasp in the sound left behind by the plague, or by the dark water in which he’d once so nearly drowned. “We do what we have to do. That isn’t the same as justification. It’s surviving.”

❛   ------- i’m SORRY  ❜  he’s not, but that’s well past the point his facial expression is trying to make. in fact, what he’s holding back is the ever common incredulous look on his face as his head shakes in the purest amount of confusion.  ❛   but where the hell did you say that came from? because it definitely didn’t come from our usual place.  ❜  ( @myricds )

       ❝ i wish you could have seen it. ❞ it’s a soft confession, fingers fiddling with each other in a nervous gesture that has accompanied her since childhood. ❝ if i could go back in time and show you one thing, it would be FAIRCHILD MANOR. it...i always felt bad i couldn’t raise you in a place like it, a place you deserved. ❞ jocelyn wouldn’t trade their quiet mundane years for anything, but she hates that clary has grown up so isolated from the legacy of their family. ❝ there was so much HISTORY there, so much i wanted to show you...tell you... ❞ she shakes her head. ❝ i’m so sorry, clary. about everything. ❞

                    { @myricds // liked for a starter }

  STARTER CALL   /   @myricds

It was strange how stopping a war didn’t automatically make you as a fully qualified Shadowhunter, but then no one could learn to fight overnight. ‘War heroes’ they might be, or so people said, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t have to pass training before you could get anywhere in the world -- a name carried weight but it didn’t mean you could take down a hoard of demons. Especially not if Jace was counting. Alec would leave a lot of lessons to Jace but today he was busy and so Alec had taken up the mantle as teacher.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you jump off of anything.” He assured, sliding his blue eyes to rest on her bright haired head for a moment. “We’re going to spar.” To Alec, learning to defend yourself was a staple, right after learning how to stand correctly. In his mind the idea of sparring was the better option to jumping from large heights like Jace had been teaching, and definitely better than Latin or languages which Alec wasn’t the biggest fan of, to say the least. “We both know that there’s more to being a Shadowhunter than just fighting, but knowing how to aptly defend yourself makes it easier to take control of any situation you get yourself into.”

myricds

 me: *makes divergent verses for all my muses for...

I feel your judgement, but honestly if Alej was in Divergent, Jeanine would have had a horrible accident and Alej would ask for Divergents to let her study them as she took over the Erudite faction, and then keep them safe. And then implement changes to improve the lives of the factionless because having a minority population in essentially an exile is how you get problems. And also trash the concept of the god damn aptitude test being so serious. 

Also, she would have probably have Marcus Eaton killed immediately.

And would send David and the bureau a transmission of a giant middle finger.

this was the very thing he was attempting to avoid; enemies on all sides and nowhere to turn. well, he could have just gone home, but that would have been worse than simply placing his back against the wall. in his mind, he fought, and thought better when his options were limited. the same options that lead him into this  little ‘situation’ with real blood on his hands. not to say that he hadn’t had blood on his hands before, but this was different. this was something he tried to avoid, but his habits never did fade away. the wrong word, the wrong look, and then everything turned right back to how it should be. or so he kept telling himself over in over again in his head.  

❛ this isn’t - ❜ a lie, he wanted to finish with what it looked like, but it was exactly what it looked like. a simple chat, that was all this should have been, but they asked  too many questions. asked  the wrong (or even right ) ones and now they were dead - just his luck.  ❛ --- crap. ❜  the only thought on his mind was to run - get out of there, but something held him in place. maybe his own sense  of  morality or maybe it was a slight twinge of regret. whatever it was... he didn’t like the feeling of it.

// @myricds   -- nat