#child 10

[valtsv]

are we still doing this because i have a late submission

[pabustenyuku]

Kinda late, but yesterday (Aug. 12) was Middle Child Day!

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[nefarious-smartass]

“leave the demons to his demons”

((can you guys believe the funny jumpscare bear franchise is officially 10 years old now?))

[samerpal]

🚨Don’t scroll 🚨

At this time in the displacement camps, Winter hasn’t started yet, but the heavy rains have already begun to flood our fragile tent in the displacement camp, leaving my family to face the cold and water seeping in from every side. My children suffer from the biting cold, with no safe place to play or study, while we struggle to stay warm and dry in an unforgiving environment. The harsh conditions of war compound our suffering, as we live every day in fear of airstrikes that could take our lives at any moment. The lack of food and clean water makes life even more difficult, while we face physical and psychological challenges that exceed our capacity to endure. We live without electricity or healthcare, trying to hold on to any glimmer of hope in the darkness surrounding us. Each day becomes a new test of survival, and we pray for the protection and safety of our children from the threat of death that follows us at every turn.

🍉Plz help us 🚨

@mysharona1987 🌹 @luvlee1313

@buttercuparry 🌹 @three-croissants

@littlesapphicraven 🌹 @tamamita

@paper-mario-wiki 🌹 @tangledinourstrings

[paintedcrows]

Are you alright...?

[attractthecrows]

let it also be said that I love the Mahariel + Lavellan worldstate. It's so haunted. You are Dalish, you are not a part of human culture, but by happenstance you're dragged into it and to the forefront of hell to save a world that hates and fears your people. You have no choice. You can never return to your home, to the familiar, to anything you've ever known. You will be an echo; Mahariel echoing Garahel, Lavellan echoing Mahariel. You're so proud of your Dalish heritage, but your identity doesn't matter at all. Doomed to be a martyr for a people that do not respect you and cannot understand you, while your clan mourns, lamenting that they cannot bury you, no life-tree to stand as your memory. You're a hero. You're already dead. You died the moment you left your clan.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

It’s not that Jason forgot, per se.

But between smuggling a toddler out of the League of Assassins, trekking halfway across the world, and finding a suitable hiding place that’s also child friendly… well, it kind of slipped his mind that he’s supposed to be… dead.

Something that comes back to bite him in the ass when he takes Dami out for some ice cream and just so happens to run into non other than Brucie-fucking-Wayne

[possiblyawesometmblr]

seeing a lot of people focusing on the cute stuff in the update and that's all well and good but hi what the fuck does this mean

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 336

Danny might’ve maybe gone into reincarnation. Y’know, for fun! As a treat! In another world so he can return to his after this vacation with no consequences! It’ll be fun! It’ll… Oh. This… isn’t ideal. 

He’s not supposed to have most (or any) of his memories back, but apparently a clone with downloaded information does something when mixed with reincarnation. Enough that he’s curled up because his head hurts. There’s too much information for his brain, even if his Core is trying to take the edge off. 

Everything is loud, and this body hasn’t breathed before and he’s struggling to do so and- And there’s a hand on his shoulder, voices unintelligible amidst the many other sounds even with his own hands over his ears. His face is wet- tears? And he wants to go back in the tube now- 

He’s getting picked up- has he gotten picked up before? Maybe? It’s hard to untangle what he remembers from Before and what he remembers from this life. It hurts to remember things he shouldn’t be able to, so he buries his face against the bright colors and cloth that muffles the noises and tries not to cry more. 

[inkedberries]

there's just something about kids picking up the slack of a town that's failed them that speaks to me

[romanovanatalia]

"There is no greater love than to give one's life for friends."

SOCIETY OF THE SNOW (2023) dir. J. A. Bayona

[passingnights]

A flower, clutched and crushing in her hands, the blue-white staining and eating her fingertips— a cyanotype. She gazes across the battlefield. She sneaks into the bedchambers of a beloved she kept too close, kept too far. 

Karna stands in replaced positions. A Colin sized position. An Ariana sized position.

Her heart skips a beat as she skims over Deli’s haphazardly hidden notes. She finds motes of anger, of resentment, of despair and heartbreak at the corners of rapid heartbeats. She pulls and tugs at them, rearranging herself. Presentable. Useful. Disposable. 

She slides her note underneath the pillows of Delissandro Katzon’s bed. A quiet confession. A hopeful confession. She must survive.

She is dying, she is a child, she is in love. She hopes and she fears as tears crawl down her face and the rot eats her body. She knows the ways of war and the smell of murder better than the scent of a well prepared meal in the comforts of home. She knows the quick breath of death and the slow of a pulse better than the warmth of a family and the embrace of a lover. “She died nine years ago”.

At the bottom of the earth, in the embrace of Heart of the World, her story ends in a realm unknown to the rest. All the fighting to survive, the lies and the murder, the whispering of secret secrets and the blood dripping from the end of a blade. It all comes to a rest. Karna gives in to her exhaustion with an exhale (exhale, exhale). Eyes closed and a prayer to no god. A Hunger greets this tired warrior.

Cold steel rips apart her torn body. She dies and no one will mourn her. She dies and no mother, no sister, no lover will leave flowers by her gravestone, no eulogies sung, an insignificant name. 

She dies and she looks at the face of her lover. A letter remains underneath his pillows. Will he mourn for her?

“The only secret I have left, is that I love you” and in a title that was never made for her— “Signed, Sklad Karna Solara of Scoville”.

The Pawn resigns.

[alpacacare-archive]

an alternative take on the “Gaster's disappearance is the reason papyrus doesn't sleep anymore” headcanon

[paintedcrows]

Fallen Humans