#HOPE IT'S OKAY

[chipthekeeper]

Rebellions are built on hope.

[collophora]

@devinsisland apocalypse AUs, but it's just chill gardening between two raids outside to scavenge seeds

[ragewithinthestorm]

closed for @dethenryquinn

It was another night of breaking the rules, Maia didn't like that her elders kept her inside, forbade her to talk to the humans for fear she would reveal what they were due to her recessive genetic traits and lack of social skills.

Most nights went fine, she stole money from the laundromat they ran and would go to the late night convivence store to buy some food, the only way she got real food as the elders only gave her enough to live off. That night started off as normal, she'd made her way to the store in her rainbow sweater and jeans, she still hadn't figured out how to tie laces so she'd tucked them into her sneakers.

Happily making her way down the street happily, finding a bench to sit on she pulled a sandwich she'd bought from the bag and started eating it before a van pulled up. Maia watched curiously as she continued to eat, the driver got out and asked for directions, "oh I don't know sorry, I'm not from around here," which of course was the wrong thing to say. The man tried to drag her into the van, she was strong enough to defend herself, however she was so caught off guard she just froze for a few moments before starting to pull away but his grip was firm, instinctively she started screaming for help.

[nights-at-crystarium]

I’m sorry you’re dealing with stuff. I hope it’s resolved quickly and we’ll for everyone involved. 🫂

Thank you ;w; It's already resolved, now I just need a few days to recover mentally.

[daily-mewmew]

♡ Kisshu in Tokyo Mew Mew New ep20 ♡ (requested by @kuro93)

[belorussiandino]

testing style a bit maybe i keep it like this

[geraniumplant]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 -- @whitexdove

Tseng brushes the blood off his cheek, clearly unimpressed by Rufus' presence. When the president suggested investigating the murders personally, Tseng certainly didn't anticipate being dragged into a chaotic pursuit across Midgar. Now, he finds himself with an unconscious body to deal with— the poor bastard never stood a chance.

"This is the last time I let you convince me to accompany you playing detective."

[beckdean]

@caleb-lycaon

Location: Boundary between The Shipyard and Chissob Hills.

Ever since learning of her shifting, and the link to the cycles of the moon, Beck had been more than careful when it came to keeping track. She was usually extra vigilant with locking herself away within whichever apartment she was renting, keeping the outside world safe from her. It was rare she'd even fully remember what happened during nights of the full moon - though often she awoke to trashed furniture and scratch marks on the walls by the time dawn came.

Since being in VC, she'd felt uneasy. Too many now suspected what she was, enough so to have her constantly on edge - and distracted. She'd decided to walk the long way home from The Docks, limbs heavy and tired from a long day at work, taking the twisting, familiar roads - when she felt that old tingling sensation beneath her skin, the sense of something waking inside. The evening had only just begun to shift to dusk, and as she glanced up towards the sky she saw the early moon, barely visible - but, most definitely, full. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

She was still too far from her apartment to safely make it - yet she tried, almost instantly taking off in a sprint, running blindly in the vague direction of safety. She made it closer - but not close enough. Despite the urge within her to resist, to hold on to everything human, even she could accept the inevitable after all these years. So, at the final second she abandons her mission for sanctuary, and instead takes to the nearest alley, thankfully empty - at least at first.

As the moon finally advanced in the sky, Beck gives in to the change, hiding herself rather unceremoniously behind a set of trash cans. One moment she's there - then there is the wolf, all dark fur and sharp teeth. Desperate, she tried in anguish to hold on to the part of her mind that was still Beck, planting her clawed feet into the paving stones of the alley, determined to remain unseen - I will not move until morning, I will not move until morning. The instruction was like a mantra, echoing in her mind.

At least, until she smelled something human - then anything that was left of Beck was quickly gone.

A drunk couple made their way down the side of the building, unknowingly in her direction. She could hear their laughter, detect that distinctly human scent - and suddenly those untested lupine instincts were on high alert, ready to hunt. The wolf made no noise as she stepped into the shadows beside them, eyes arched and teeth bared, remaining unseen for now as she prepared to strike.

[snnynaturalarch]

sonny faces demon dean ft. @bloodsalted please don't reblog unless tagged

[hellfireconcert]

closed for @rebelliousfamily

Eddie hadn't expected Nancy to show up early, he was thankful for it of course as the less time he was alone in the trailer the better, but he had put off having a shower thinking he had more time. It wasn't that he smelled, but as the worst of his wounds were still healing it was important that he was extra cautious of his hygiene, besides it was shot day and he always felt extra sweaty on those days for some reason.

He explained that he needed to take a quick shower and redress his wounds but that he wouldn't be long, taking a shower knowing someone other than Wayne was in the trailer was a strange feeling that was for sure. Eddie had told her to help herself to the kitchen if she wanted and to have a look at his tapes and pick out what to watch from his bedroom, forgetting that he'd left his used needle box out on his desk from doing his shot that morning.

He was as quick as he could be, the thought of leaving a girl alone while he was in a different room gave him so much anxiety as when he'd left Chrissy for less time than this...pushing that memory aside, the metalhead redressed his side and thigh wounds as they were the worst, applied the medicated creams to the other wounds including the one on his face that caused the corner of his mouth to spasm when he grinned or opened his mouth too wide. As he walked out of the bathroom, hair still up in a poofy bun as his hair was a nightmare to get wet and it wasn't wash day, smoothing out his tshirt he looked into the kitchen area, panic rising once more as he couldn't see her, forgetting he had told her the VHS tapes were in his room, "Nancy?"

[quentafeanorians]

@sonxofxgondor

Imladris stables, nestled against the forest wall were located some distance from the main houses, where the bustle of the house rarely reached and instead the sounds of birds singing and tree leaves rustling in the wind accompanied the idyllic view. The main building was built of pale stone, with the same sharply arching roof and care put into its design.

The individual stalls in the stables of Imladris had no doors; the horses were free to come and go as they pleased, whenever they needed shelter or attention from the Horse Master. On one side of the long building the impressive, oak double door opened towards the yard, with the tack building, barns, and Rocheru's house there, nestled into the edge of the forest that wrapped around the yard as if in an embrace. On the other side of the stable building, the double door was ever opened, leading onto a wide path, and further down an array of paddocks, all open but not all used at the same time, so the grasses may always be fresh and plentiful for horses to graze on.

Though the horses spent most of the time out in pasture, they still arrived each morning and evening to have their share of grain, and they made use of the stables when it rained or when they wanted to hide from the blazing sun. Thus, the stable still needed regular cleaning, and for all the stalls to have fresh hay and water. Tending to that, along with the feeding, was a large portion of the morning chores, for which Rocheru now had a helper.

The young lad sent from Gondor was eager and bright, with a kind heart and a head open to knowledge. These were qualities most auspicious for the future steward of the kingdom of men and Rocheru was glad for the opportunity to continue tending to them.

He waited for the boy in the stable yard, sat on a bench there and enjoying both the crisp, morning sun, still pleasantly warm rather than scorching hot as it would become later in the day, as well as his morning tea sipped from a blue and white ceramic cup.

[thewanderingace]

Loki, God of Stories

source/original image

[collophora]

Fic writers who wrote migrainous-hunter I love you Inspired by This fic from @just-here-with-my-thoughts and this one too by lucifer_elliot and this one by @oohhihoney

[nightiingaled]

@sorrowsick

She's drunk.

In some piss poor town nowhere near home. She took a taxi this far out and of course she can take a taxi back, but why. Her best friend is missing and she cant find her. It's almost Christmas and it has been so long since she spent a Christmas alone without her. And work - where she distracted herself from the agony of her friend's loss - had tortured her worse. She had watched as patient after patient died, and she couldn't save them. Not by human means nor by her own. They were gone.

"What would you say, if I told you I couldn't save your life?" she finally asked her drinking partner. "Would you hate me? Would you call me a monster?"

"If I can't save anyone, maybe I am a monster," she wondered aloud, choking on her words and unable to decide if she was going to cry or vomit. Tears win out and she collapses against the brick wall behind her with a sobbing choke.

[tragedia]

@keepslore gets an inquisition based starter, [ from harlan ].

It's a specific kind of reprieve to be in a place where no one trusts him. It's not something Harlan's unused to, of course. Although he can feel the distrustful looks on his back, given the way he was brought up and trained, it feels so ridiculously familiar that all the steps are easy to place. He's still half-expecting a knife to the back, but this he can handle — because at least here, with so many eyes watching, it's harder for his past in Antiva to reach him with an ill-timed contract.

Still, these brief moments when he feels he can take a solitary breather are nice. He chooses the middle of the night to find a window of time when the kitchens are empty, and tries to take his mind off of things with masterful chopping that has nothing to do with violence. He hears someone approaching, sees the reflection in one of the ridiculously well-polished pots that matches a familiar figure. He doesn't raise his eyes when speaking, “ Is there something I can do for you, Inquisitor? ” Harlan places the knife on the cutting board and turns to face her, with a polite bow offered. “ Your presence is most welcome, but forgive me for saying, many wouldn't trust to leave you alone with me. If you wish for a snack, I may leave and return later. ”

[chronicparagon]

@rubbarband

Continued from here: Link

The scene they find would be a nightmare in real life. Furniture is thrown haphazardly about the living room. Shattered glass shimmers in like diamonds all over the hardwood floor. Papers scatter around the room, all of them depicting crudely drawn images mocking Desmond and the many ways he wants to hack Harmony to bits. The drawings were far from professionally done. They were rather sloppy in fact, but they serve as a sign of who the villain is.

He made sketches or drawings of his twisted schemes and mocked his targets, leaving them for the heroes or police to find after the deed was done.

A wretched stench of iron, bile, and other bodily fluids fill the air. There in the bathroom is an unknown figure. A tall man lies on the bathroom floor, not moving an inch. Long, spindly limbs lie at unnatural angles. He lies on his back, donning a dark blue sweatshirt with his hood up. Flaming red hair framing his face seems torn with strands lying in the deep crimson pool beneath him.

A white mask is fused to his gray skin. Bright red circles over the cheeks and a wide smile painted on the cracked mask. One red eye is of the mask, but the other is bloodshot with the iris bearing a hellish glow. It stares out to the ceiling, no longer moving in its socket like before.

The villain is none other than Sketch, one of the lesser-known villains with a high body count. His sketchy appearance often lowered his victims' guard and hid his ability to interfere with radio waves and silently lurk in the shadows with his mask hiding his face that could morph into his targets' worst nightmares.

Was he human or monster? No one knows. He was a mystery who became an illusive serial killer suspected to have caused at least fifty murders in Portland and the surrounding areas. He was often overlooked for his calling card was nothing more than the sketches of his victims and the bodies that he claimed were his "masterpieces."

He did it to every single victim, except for one...The one victim who became his fatal mistake.

He's no longer moving. No longer laughing and the evidence of his demise becomes clear.

His neck is covered by deep bites with a chunk of flesh ripped out. That may have been the death blow. The drill that was his weapon lodged into his chest, directly into his heart. There were several punctures in his stomach with mangled parts of his organs pulled out, likely from the drill before it went to his heart. The butchering was very crude and rushed, as though frantically making sure he stayed dead. His sweatshirt was torn apart with scratch marks over his chest and ripping the stitches embracing his joints. But there is no sight of Harmony or the twins. However that will not remain a mystery for long.

Everyone will hear cries coming from the nursery down the hall from the bathroom. A piece of rotting flesh rests in a pool of vomit with some of it splattered on the hallway wall and floor near the bathroom door with red footprints and blood leading to the nursery where they cries are.

Inside the nursery is Harmony huddled in a corner. Red stains her face and down her front. Her long hair frizzed and matted and stripped without a single garment on her bloody figure. Gashes riddle her arms and shoulders. Large bruising from hands around her neck. She holds two bundles tight to her chest. Dmitri came first, his tiny body tightly wrapped by Harmony's bloodstained nightgown. Diana entered the world next, wrapped in one of Desmond's t-shirt. The precious treasures cry with their incredibly strong lungs.

Covered in fluids from birth that stain their wraps but they are unharmed and very much alive.

Their cords are still attached to her, but Harmony still doesn't seem to notice, holding them to her as though afraid of something taking them away from her. Tears stream from wide eyes but she doesn't seem to notice her lover and the others right away. She still doesn't realize that this nightmare really is over.

Sirens grow in volume as red and blue lights flash outside the window. It won't be long until the paramedics race in. Still in a daze, the young mother mutters under her hoarse breath. Her teeth were still stained red from the foul blood of her victim.

She didn't want to do it. She never wanted to. Killing is something Harmony would never dreamed of.

But the babies were in danger! Everything went into overdrive and it was all a blur. She had to commit such atrocities for her family.

"Hush, dears...Sssh ssssh...don't cry...Mama's here...It's okay...Daddy...Daddy will come home soon....Ssssh..." Harmony whispers. "Please...Please don't be mad at Mama...She did what she had to do. You're safe because I did it...I told him to stop, but he...He wouldn't listen. "

Harmony continued to mumble, still lost in her daze as she continued. "He was a very, very bad person...Bad people have to go. Your daddy won't be mad...He won't...I did what I had...to do...Mama had no choice..."