#don’t ask where this came from idk

[amnestyliketaz]

to me dally is at least a little bit of a lesbian

[deyageka]

.

.

No srsly I can’t believe they’ve actually done this:

(+)

[dmwrites]

When everyone was finally dead, the final body slumped to the ground, the world went a bit funny. There was a pause as the world went silent for the first time in weeks. Blood ran, soaking the ground red, as everything lay in horrible, grizzly stillness.

And then, the glitches came out, first slinking in the shadows at night, and gradually getting more and more braver when there were no repercussions. Horrible things, scavengers that resembled wolves, dark and twitching, made from the static of the world boarder. They feasted on the bodies left behind, half rotted, pierced by arrows and swords and all numbers of other things.

And when the bones had been licked clean and scattered, that’s when the cleaning lady came to put the world back together.

Pearl hadn’t called herself the cleaning lady back when she’d started. She had been selected, invited, whatever you wanted to call it- they’d remembered her. You’re Grian’s sister, right? They weren’t related, but Pearl didn’t like to piss them off like Grian had, so she had just nodded. We have a job for you.

The job was simple, horrible. A game had been played, the watchers explained, a game of three lives. When the players go red on their third life, they become bloodthirsty animals, killing for the entertainment of the watchers, although the players hasn’t known there was an audience. The stage had been sullied now, and they needed someone to make it fresh. For the next time, the watchers said, and Pearl wondered what a next time would entail. But she had been plucked from her world and brought here, pat on the head and given brooms and buckets, and told to get to work. It wasn’t like she had another option, so she did.

She stood in a rather unremarkable grove, but gunpowder purfumed the air heavily. With her buckets and shovels in hand, she made her way through the world, and soon found evidence of the battles that had taken place and marred the landscape. Craters from explosions, a village torn apart. Bits of bone and cloth scattered. And blood, blood everywhere, a portrait of bitter ends. A desert so torn apart that the stone underneath bled through like the bones of some slain beast.

Pearl hiked up a sandy dune to an odd formation of cactus. They seemed to encircle the bloodiest part of the whole world. There was a skeleton’s head lodged right in the middle, and it looked like it was smirking at her. Other bones, bleached white by the sun, were scattered within that circle. And the blood, dried as it was, had dyed the sand a deep red.

Pearl stood beside one of the cacti for a moment, looking in on the scene like the watchful cacti were. The desert was so quiet, only the sigh of sand moved by the wind. This must have been one of those fights to the death the Watchers had told her about. A bad one too. She felt watched as she stepped into the circle, like this was the real stage.

Pearl picked up the skull, brushed off the sand that stuck to it. Its gaping grin unnerved her, but still, she felt bad. She smoothed the jaw of the skull unnecessarily, then set it to one side. In the pile went all the other bones too, teeth and ribs and pelvis. When she’d picked all she could find, she pulled out her bucket to wash the sand down with.

As she set the bucket spilling down the embankment, she saw another skeleton appear from under the cliff’s edge- had someone jumped? She watched it move about with the stream of water, and then caught sight of a bit of fabric stuck to some of the ribs. Red. Not like the dried blood, but bright red. A familiar red.

Heart in her mouth, Pearl slid down the sandy dune, clumsily making her way to the skeleton. She recognized the fabric, even frayed as it was.

“Gri?”

Her voice echoed, distorted, across the sand, and suddenly she was floating in the air, looking down onto two figures climbing their way to the cactus circle. She moved closer. Grian was there, his sweater frayed and damaged, with some other man with grey skin slick with sweat. They talked- it was muffled- Grian smiling so painfully. He looked so tired. And then, he struck the other man hard across the jaw. The two fought, Grian punching the other again and again, the other man not really fighting back. There was a bolt of lightning, and the other man was dead. Grian was laughing. Grian was crying. His mouth was open in some kind of horrible scream. And then, he turned and jumped off the side of the sandy embankment.

Pearl jolted back to the present, tears in her eyes. “Grian, no!” She pulled the skeleton towards her, and it fell apart in her arms. Her heart ached with a loss she hadn’t even realized she’d needed to have. She didn’t have the energy to cry, she just stared at the bones that had made up her friend.

“I thought he was one of you!” Pearl called to the sky. “It is him, isn’t it?”

He won.

“Won? Does this look like winning to you?” Pearl shrieked, grabbing Grian’s skull unceremoniously and thrusting it towards the sky. Sand trickled down her forearm, dislodged from Grian’s skull. Off in the distance, thunder rolled, suddenly and angrily. Pearl lowered the skull and put it gently down next to the pile of bones that had made up the winner. She almost smiled. If anyone had to win, it would have to be him, wouldn’t it.

Time blurred as Pearl hurried herself in her cleaning. The more she was here, walking this land, the more connected she felt, the more heartbreak she experienced. She talked to Grian to keep her sane, or, at least, the skull of Grian she attached to her belt with rope. She did smile at the idea of Grian seeing this somehow, complaining about being hip-height to her. Land was terraformed, sculpted into groves of trees, a huge, jutting mountain. The blood was washed clean with water and scrub brushes. The sand, what was left of it at least, was confined to river beds and shallow ponds.

And when it was done, she went back to that small grove, now a flat, grassy hill surrounded by trees, and called to the Watchers above.

“I’ve done it, no thanks to you lot. You can take me away now.”

Not finished.

“What? I’ve done what you asked!” Pearl was so tired. She could collapse here, and die like the rest, but she knew the Watchers would never allow that.

We need our players.

“What?”

Assemble the performers, and the game can start once again.

There was a stuttering, pained growl from behind her. Pearl turned around and froze in fright as a creature came slinking out of the woods, a dog-like thing that usually scavenged in packs at night. Made of the things of the world boarder, hardly keeping shape, Pearl had nicknamed them glitches. Pearl had seen them from the house she’d slept in at night. They were vicious with each other, fighting for the precious few resources left, but let her be usually. And now, one was here, slinking into the sunlight, holding a bone in its mouth. It dropped the bone, and scrambled away.

“Assemble the performers… no…” Pearl whispered, reaching down and taking the bone in her hand. Thunder rumbled, and Pearl sank to her knees. “That’s… horrible. You want me to make these skeletons… whole again? I don’t even know…”

She trailed off, because there was another growl. And another. Glitches were all around her, bringing thigh bones and ribs and skulls. Dropping them around her, retreating into thr forest, watching her. They were quiet, as quiet as glitches could be, almost as if they were sorry.

And so, Pearl began her final task. With help from the glitches, who came closer and closer each day, delivering bones, she assembled bodies. She fitted parts of the body together, hoped they were right. It was a complicated puzzle that she didn’t have the right answers to. She didn’t even know how many people there had been. She worked day and night, just wanting it to be over.

Sixteen skeletons lay before her, sixteen actors in the Watcher’s sick play. Pearl held the final puzzle peice in her hands, looking at all she had done. She kissed the top of Grian’s skull, and placed it gently on the top of the final body. The glitches stood around her, gazing up to the sky with her.

“I’m done now.”

You’ve set our stage well, cleaning lady. We can begin now.

There was a sizzle of pure power from all around her, and the glitches melted into the air, forming a translucent force field around the arena. Pearl hoped they’d be okay. A light shone down onto the bodies on the hill, so bright that Pearl was blinded. She closed her eyes, waiting to be taken away.

And when she opened her eyes again, sixteen people were standing around a square of bedrock. A single enchanting table sat right in the middle. Everyone was quiet, eyes closed, breathing softly.

“Wait, I’m still here! Why… I get to leave now, right?” Pearl asked, a shake in her voice.

Play well, Pearlescentmoon.

[whatsfourteenupto]

Fourteen’s wandering an art museum. Managed for a bit to behave like the Good Normal Quiet Thoughtful Art Patron but couldn’t keep it up, so:

Asks an incredible amount of increasingly-detailed questions and has long, in-depth conversations with the attendants.

Spends a ridiculous amount of time in the Van Gogh section just grinning from ear to ear.

There are several incorrectly labeled more ancient art items but for once he keeps his damn mouth shut. They’ll tell Mel later and she’ll get in touch with them

Doesn’t linger very long in the statuary section. There’s nothing obviously suspicious about it, but they’d just rather not.

Pleasantly surprised to come across a few of Clyde Langer’s pieces. The gun in that one looks so familiar, though, one of the must have shown him the painting at some point…

Fiddles with the audio tour headset so much he accidentally breaks it. He’ll fix it before he gives it back, and it’s super weird but that headset never runs out of battery ever again.

Of course they’re going to visit the Little Shop.

[l3viat8an]

What if!!!- Barbatos’ happy trail is like his hair!! It starts out that lighter color and gets darker the lower it goes-

[cokowiii]

It’s just so…goofy

Little Journey~~ Next

[whumpy-wyrms]

giving all your ocs the alien ikea plushie. shrinking two of them a little bit for basil and sasha

anton loves it so much he says thank u

[harpieunion]

Sir? Are you free a moment?

Yeah. Yeah so You know the canary? the one in the mineshaft..

yes sir it’s. Uh. It died. One of the men found it dead not long ‘go.

Well that’s the thing. We haven’t evacuated yet. We don’t know if we should.

We don’t think it died of gas, sir.

The bird. Well. I don’t think nobody has actually taken care of it in a while. Bodys gone rotten.

Ain’t no one noticed. Cause somethin down there is still singing.

[yyumehh]

the turtle crew in concert/rave fits 🔊🎶

is it obvious i started with april and leo, then had to SQUISH everyone else onto the page 😅 poor raph has to crouch to fit lmao

i’m really proud of this though?!?!! i’ve only ever drawn duos at most, so five people is a huge jump for me!

peep the regression 🫣 cus my brain was braining

[leadendeath]

BEST FIND IN A WHILE 👀👀

Edit: hiii reblogs are only off because i feel a bit funny having pictures of me (in my reblog of this post, and albeit faceless) on a lot of peoples blogs… didn’t expect that to happen! what does it mean! idk, you’re fine, don’t feel bad, it’s just a “me” thing i can’t explain it further than that

Please look at my art offers instead under the tag #offers

[soph98]

christmas is my favourite holiday so here’s my little decorations 🥹😭

[joltning]

for some reason this didn’t post. ct doodles with my fc

[that-was-anticlimactic]

one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t

[prismaticpichu]

Hi, Pi! Hope you're having a good day. This is a little generic, but I love you little "Jenova shocks" that get Sephiroth sometimes and all of a sudden everyone's panicking trying to calm him down. If you have any of these scenarios, I'd appreciate the spookiness!

Hope you’re having an amazing one too!! <33 And omg, not generic at all! I live for these types of headcanons lmao! xD Always up for some good ol’ Jenova making a mess in the mental kitchen™️ shenanigans. Let’s do this! *plops on chef’s hat*

Even without puppet strings directly fettered to his mind, or even being in Mumsy’s direct line of psychological fire, Sephiroth can still act up when handled the wrong way. This fella doesn’t need to be a mesmerized, coerced-into-deadly-arson drone to be dangerous. No sir. Not at all. Certain triggers can still catalyze that celestial biology of his, and in the process, ultimately awaken millennial-old eradicative instincts laying dormant in his blood. This is what we call Sephiroth going absolutely Cujo. And it is very dangerous, and very scary.

Did you… did you not want 2K words of this? Oops.

~~~

It happened one night, at Angeal’s place, when he, Genesis, Sephiroth, and the newly-promoted Zack were all clustered on the couch watching a movie. There had been much squabbling beforehand as to what flick to watch exactly—particularly between the oil and water that is Genesis & Sephiroth—which ultimately prompted Angeal to let the pupper take the reins. It also helped that it was Zack’s first time hanging with the revered Firsts; Genesis didn’t care much for the “whelp” at all, while Sephiroth actually didn’t mind his presence. It was just a splinter of something warm, really, a slight elevation from the chilly neutrality he had with the other SOLDIERs below him. Surrendering (remote) control didn’t bother the man very much, especially when it was to someone as harmless as Zack. And especially when it meant that that control was not going to Genesis.

Surprisingly, a compromise was made pretty easily. Zack had cruised down the animation subsection in search of something wholesome and colorful—after Angeal said no to the “bloody blockbusters.” Hmph! He would NOT get nightmares. Anyways, what they ultimately stumbled across was something they could all agree upon: a nice, adorable movie with a smiling deer on the thumbnail. Zack wanted to squish the deer’s face, Angeal loved the floral scenery, Genesis appreciated its longevity, and Sephiroth had a hidden fascination with woodland creatures. Zack had picked well. Even Genesis admitted that the pupper’s taste wasn’t so “repugnant” after all.

So, they flicked on the movie and sat back. And y’know what? The four military minds did in fact enjoy it! It was so serene… so cute. Sephiroth stifled a chuckle as the titular deer learned to walk, Genesis humming along to the classical music. It was nice, really, Sephiroth thought, to just watch something so tranquil amid the tumultuous world they lived in, to fly off to a small oasis of beauty and bonding as he was bubbled in the warmth between his comrades. It was… perfect.

Y’know. Until It happened.

Bambi, as the fawn was called, was running. And running. And running. And running. Snow was billowing around him in blinding cascades of ice, the music escalating to match the racing legs of suspense. Bambi’s mother was right behind him—she was RIGHT behind him. But they were growing apart. Apart. Further and further apart.

Sephiroth raked his nails into the couch, his gaze becoming more and more fixated on the screen. On the deer. On the son. Locked. Praying. Fragmenting.

He was running. And running. And running. And—

No… no where was his mother…? Where was HIS—

Where was HIS—

The gunshot went off.

And Sephiroth felt the ringing.

Zack let out a little squeak, rattled by the sudden plunge in tone; Angeal cupped his hand over his mouth; Genesis breathed a shallow curse of surprise. Sephiroth didn’t know how long he was sitting there, simply staring, as Bambi crept his way out of the den. As he navigated back through the snow. As he called out in anguish.

Unanswered.

Angeal noticed the almost paralyzed look first, reaching over and pausing the movie.

“Sephiroth?” he ventured slowly. “Are you okay?”

Sephiroth didn’t hear him; the world still rang, serrated and knifelike in his ears. He stated at the frozen image now, at the fawn’s tormented face. One that was full of pain. Full of loss. Full of grief. Abandoned.

…Abandoned.

Abandoned.

Abandoned.

Abandoned.

“No…” He glared daggers at the TV screen, raking his nails deeper into leather. “Don’t leave your son. Don’t leave your son. Don’t leave your SON.”

“…Sephiroth?” Zack shrunk against the cushions.

“Do not leave your son. Do not leave your son. Do not leave your son.” He stood up, his focus honing into a snarl. “Do not leave your son. Do not leave your son. Do NOT LEAVE YOUR—“

“Sephiroth, calm down.” Angeal reached for his arm—

Sephiroth seized it.

And before a gasp of pain could be let out, as five savage nails plunged into his skin, the man was thrown into a wall. Violently. A bomb of plaster erupted with the impact, dust and paint rivering down from the human-shaped crater formed under the window.

“SEPHIROTH!” Genesis jolted up beside him. “What the HELL was that?!”

Unfortunately, the auburn was met with the same fate. Two blistering eyes snapped his way, pupils rattling, the man’s teeth bared, snarling, and he lunged for his companion—shoving him backwards into the stony ledge of the counter.

“TAKE COVER!” Zack threw himself behind the sofa, landing with a thump. Did this happen often??! What the heck was going on??! The General was acting so nice before!

Meanwhile, that General turned his seething attention back to the TV—to the son, to the loneliness, to the abandoner. ABANDONER. He threw his fist into the screen, and the lonely fawn went black.

He was alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Angeal, coughing, peeled himself off from the wall. He gaped horridly at the condition of all three of his friends. “Sephiroth!“

Sephiroth’s head shot back towards him, and again he lunged.

Angeal obstructed the man this time, seizing him by his own wrists, his feet quaking and equilibrium faltering as he fought to keep those savage nails from plunging back into him.

“GENESIS! Do you have a Sleep on you?!”

Genesis collected himself from the ground, crimson drizzling from temple. He looked genuinely panicked. “No!”

“Why?!”

“Because I didn’t expect him to go APESHIT, Angeal! Why do you think?!”

“Great…” Angeal muttered, before a hiss of pain tore jaggedly through his lips. His elbows rattled against the force trying to bend them backwards.

“Sephiroth!” he futility tried again, desperate. “We’re your friends! LOOK!” He gestured with his head towards a side table, to a framed photograph of the three of them.

Sephiroth didn’t look; instead, he overpowered the other, and with a wildfire in his eyes threw his friend backwards and into the coffee table. It shattered.

“GEAL!” Zack cried, inadvertently revealing his location as he jolted up from behind the couch. Sephiroth snapped towards the boy then, the same murderous blaze now homing in on him, ready to lunge.

Genesis swooped in before he could; he wrangled Sephiroth’s arms, distracting him, grappling to keep him in place as the man clawed and snarled and balked.

“Jesus Christ what is the MATTER with you?!”

Another snarl was his response; another snarl, and joining Angeal in the bones of the coffee table as he overpowered him as well.

“Gahhhhhh!” Zack grabs fistfuls of his hair, panicking over the sight of the two incapacitated SOLDIERs. He needed to do something—quick! Sephiroth was acting like some kind of crazed Chocobo, all wild and violent. How did you quell a crazed Chocobo…? How did you quell a crazed Sephiroth…?

Zack willed his breath to steady, coming around from the sanctuary of the couch.

“Get away from his, Zack!” Angeal warned.

With no more roadblocks, there was nothing standing in the way between the rabid General and the anxious puppy. Nothing stopping him from whipping around to him. Nothing stopping him from utterly ripping him in two.

Zack stood tall though, swallowing his heart, and did the thing he knew best: charging forward and throwing his arms and legs around the older man’s neck, proceeding to ride on his shoulders like a frantic bull in a rodeo.

“Calm down! Calm down!” he shouted. “It’s okay!”

“GET OFF OF ME!” Sephiroth snarled, ramming into the wall in an attempt to shake his rider off; Zack bonked his head, letting out a yelp, but SOLDIERs skulls were pretty darn strong. He just held on tighter.

“Never!” he shouted unwaveringly. “Not until you calm down!”

“GET OFF!”

“NO!”

Sephiroth continued to snarl—why was he SNARLING?—using his nails like they were claws as he tried to scratch his face off.

“It’s just a movie, Sephiroth!” Zack let the words tumble from his mouth, a desperate solace he was reaching for. That was what had triggered this whole thing, wasn’t it? That scene! That darn, sad scene!

“It’s just a movie! You’re okay!”

“He was a ALONE!” Sephiroth roared, another bash against the wall. “ALONE.”

“Yeah! But you’re NOT!” Zack clutched him tighter. “You got your pals here, remember?! They’re right here!”

Here.

Here.

Here.

Sephiroth didn’t bash into the wall again; he stopped, huffing, like he was processing the other’s words. Like they were sticky, painfully wading through a wall of molasses in order to reach him.

“We’re right here.” Angeal echoed his student in a kind, strong assurance, his back cracking as he raised himself to a sit.

“We never left, you NUT!” Genesis joined his friend with his own plea. Whatever Zackary was doing—as insane at is was—it was working. Somehow.

And it was. Sephiroth stared at the two men on the floor, staring like he was trying to remember why he was staring and who he was staring at. But the fire was ebbing in his eyes. His breath was slowing, his heart was quelling. The Chocobo was quelling.

“See?” Zack said kindly, giving one last reassuring squeeze. “You’re just fine. You’re just fine… Please stop throwing people into furniture now.”

That seemed to push Sephiroth to the finish line; slowly, the man closed his eyes, falling to his knees as he panted long, pained bursts of oxygen. Zack dismounted off him, crouching beside his new friend in concern. His eyes were majorly strained… It looked like a migraine if the boy didn’t know any better.

The coast clear, Angeal and Genesis picked themselves up, making their own way to their friend.

“Sephiroth?” Angeal ventured again, also crouching down beside him. “Are you okay?”

“…….Yes,” Sephiroth said through his breath. “I’m fine.”

“That’s it. I’m calling Hojo right now.” Genesis stalked off towards the telephone.

As Sephiroth watched him leave, he let his gaze idly roam around, catching sight of the crater and shattered table and splotch of blood on the counter. Acute guilt flashed through his eyes, the flames smothered. Whatever happened was a blur, a nauseous smear of rage and emotion and something bursting from the trenches of his soul. But he knew what he had done.

“I’m…”

Angeal laid a hand on his younger friend’s shoulder. “It’s alright. I’m just glad Zack calmed you down.”

“He… did?” Sephiroth turned to the boy beside him, both confused and marveled as he met the young blue eyes

“…Thank you.”

Zack smiled at him in return. “Anytime.”

~~~

Movie night was relocated to Genesis’s place, as Angeal placed an order for some new furniture and paint. Needless to say the rest of the movie went much smoother; both Genesis and Angeal decided it was best if Zack sat nearby Sephiroth, which ultimately resulted in Zack falling asleep against him. And Sephiroth, for his part, didn’t mind too much. Just as he didn’t mind anything else in the movie.

He glanced between his two best friends + one, sandwiching him on the couch, and couldn’t help but let a small, warm smile form. The whole mess was a blur, yes, but one thing did manage remain clear in his mind.

The fact that he wasn’t alone.

[cenobi-ravioli]

2012 Mikey fans come get y’all juice

[loserboysandlithium]

Y’know what? Steve Wilkos could get it.