#doomdays posting

[doomdaysdecays]

it makes perfect sense. niffty’s job is pest control

shes known for stabbing roaches

[silencedrage]

VAN PALMER ( @doomdays ) said "how about we don’t do that.”

Lottie looks up in surprise at Van's quiet admonishment, and she looks down at her hands to realize that she has nearly rubbed the skin raw in her anxiety. The gold rings that usually adorn her fingers were one of the first things they took from her when she was processed, and she feels barren without them. It seemed silly, to rely so heavily on a few circlets of metal but they were a small, controllable thing in her life and she remembers the lessons that they drilled into her in Switzerland. She can only control what she knows, what she sees. The rest of it doesn't matter.

But those lessons don't seem quite as prominent as she looks upon Van's face, those same blue eyes that had followed her into the cold twenty-five years ago, that trusted her to interpret the wordless weight of the Wilderness. Of them all, Van has always been the one to give Lottie the most faith, the one she could count on to understand why she did what she did. Did they ever think they would be here, sitting across from her in an empty visitation room that chilled them right to the bone? It's a far cry from the cabin and the woods and the trees.

But Lottie carefully lays her palms flat on the table, if only to keep herself from fiddling with them again. "How are you doing?" She tries to force the attention back to them, as it's always been far easier for her to focus on others than on herself. They barely had a chance to speak in those chaotic hours before everything transpired, and she takes the time now to look upon her old friend's face. Scars and lines of age are more prominent now, but there is something about Van's presence that has always made Lottie feel safe. "How is... everyone else?"

[survivedsarchived]

@doomdays: it's a free country. in some ways. (al + isabelle)

out here, she almost believes it. the forest has a stillness near dusk that isabelle still isn't accustomed to, despite the time spent at beckett's cabin alone; every now and then, the dead had managed to skirt her defenses, navigate their way through the thick foliage (thinning as the days grow shorter, the crispness of coming autumn entering her lungs with every breath) — but never at sunset. gold-red bleeds to purple streaks in the sky above, isabelle pausing to scan absentmindedly for black dots, heralds of death — fearing the day they hear the skull-numbing thwackthwackthwack of the chopper's blades, the reaper's scythe cutting through the air.

there's nothing up there now except brilliant color: the sun round and full and draped lazily by a cloud, drifting into oblivion, but it's all an illusion. the other shoe dropped; the patch of earth she'd managed to claim as her own scorched, devoured by the relentless machine of the civic republic, because that's what happens. what will always happen. what she's made happen; what she ensured they'd have the capability to do, time and time again, for a year, a decade, a century.

(so that there's more than stories left when they die.)

the grim thoughts show themselves in her expression tearing her eyes away from the bright red sign that'd prompted her to stop — PRIVATE PROPERTY bold and prominent, despite time and weather — in the curve of her brow as isabelle flits her gaze towards althea — unable to stop the miniscule smile that catches in the corner of her mouth, gradually growing into something substantial. it's not enough to overpower the fear shadowing her eyes, but — it's something, isn't it? something to warm her, just as pressing closer to al does, slipping back beneath the canopy of leaves with practiced ease.

“not much of a country left.” al's seen it from the sky, just as she has — how empty, how hollow the ground feels below. cratered cities and masses of dead, cracked highways stretching like dried veins in a long-dead corpse. (the civic republic hidden, a dark shadow cast across the land.) her smile twitches into a grimace, and isabelle turns her attention towards the cabin across the clearing, cloaked in darkness, but enough light filters through the trees to reveal the caved-in roof, ruling it out as viable shelter. “—still feels weird, walking onto someone's property. even if it's just passing through. maybe that's stupid.” with everything she's done, trespassing — if you could even call it that, really — should hardly cause her to stumble — but there's the overwhelming thought that someone lived here once: it had been a home. maybe now it's a grave. it seems almost disrespectful to disturb it.

her jaw clenches, teeth gritting as she pushes past the glaring sign, keeping her footfalls light and short, a hand on the hilt of her blade. “... c'mon. it's getting dark soon.”

[misquigleya]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

@doomdays (akilah) asked: “ is… that my shirt you’re wearing? ”

                          Quick glance downwards is given before shoulders shrug. "Maybe? I don't know. I just grabbed it from the clean pile," Misty mumbled, eyes hesitantly looking to the other girl. She didn't want this to become a thing, but she also didn't want to go put the ripe smelling shirt she had been wearing for two weeks back on either. "There are other clean shirts...I think," she added, hand moving to rub at her arm ( a nervous habit of hers ) while eyes shifted from Akilah to look elsewhere.

[lingeringscars]

@doomdays sent 📖 (book: girls of fate and fury by natasha ngan) / ryan & mason

"hey, i uh. i didn't think you should be alone right now." he fumbles for the right words to say, but he knows that there is no such thing as the right thing right now. he's oftentimes felt out of control, but he has never had something else in control of himself before. he can't imagine what it would be like to have the very essence of himself turned against the people he loves. he couldn't bear it. "unless you want to be alone. i mean...we all handle things in different ways i don't... i don't want to assume what you need. if that's what you need, i'll leave. i'll do whatever you want."

send 📖 for a starter based off a book line / accepting

[serge4nt]

a little healthy competition's good for the soul, he thinks; it doesn't matter to tec if he wins or loses, only that there's a few less dead in the world. it's great for breaking up the monotony the detail can occasionally entail, too — it's good when it's quiet, tector knows, but he's walked this path on a near-daily basis for months now: he knows all the trees, the bushes, every dip and winding curve. some part of him that isn't buried so deep is restless — a buzzing in his chest that he recognizes, but doesn't know how to express. he's had the thought on occasion that maybe he could ask to trade for a night shift, rotate to the southeast or northwest, but he doesn't want to seem ungrateful— and maybe if he did, he wouldn't see lydia as often. her presence does wonders to alleviate most of the boredom that's begun to infect him; not only because she makes a good contender for this game, but because of how she sees the world.

the path below seems vacant, void of even the suggestion of movement — the trees hush and still, the summer air currently balmy and windless. a little satisfied — and, contradictory, vaguely disappointed — with the lack of dead, tec turns his head, gaze shifting back towards the already-felled bodies, still impressed by the quickness and efficiency of her work, but he won't comment on lydia's progress outright; the declaration of her tally feels sufficient enough. he worries about coming across as condescending if he were to comment further — because, although tec does think it must not be easy, recalibrating your life to accommodate the loss of a limb, to say that (to even think it) feels inconsiderate.

if she ever did struggle, it doesn't seem to be the case now. tector feels a laugh of his own well in his chest, strengthened by the sound of hers; it's good to see lydia happy. she's someone who deserves it, more than most. “well, i wouldn't get too disappointed jus' yet. we've only been out here an hour. bound to see more. you just might get your ten, and then ten more.” his attention drifts towards the scope once more, shifting as he surveys, catalogues, seeking out more targets. “—it is fun,” he agrees. “perhaps a little morbid, too, but... state of the world 'n all that. gotta do what we can.” at least it isn't killing for the sake of killing — and they're already dead. can it really count as killing?

“more often than not,” he says in confirmation, which really boils down to, yes. but it hadn't been tector to start it, and he feels his throat tighten slightly around the words that come next, stated carefully and evenly, as if it's nothing more than a recitation of facts. “i had a friend, back in the beginning — boon. he'd start countin', talking some mess about baggin' dozens daily, so i'd count, too. keep him honest.” his mouth pinches together, and it takes a beat to swallow the hard lump in his throat — but tector finally manages it, inhaling a deep, noisy breath. “anyway— let's get you your ten.” because, while speaking, he'd seen movement — a slight shift in colors, but it's enough of an indication for tector. he shoulders the weapon with the ease of a soldier, tec's hand brushing paternally across lydia's arm as he steps past her, continuing down the path. “i'm pretty sure i just seen some more.”

lydia has spent the last few months training with her latest weapon --- metal in place of where her arm used to be, sharp edges all around, lacking the spikes aaron wears, her own design crafted just for her, welded from an old bike. in her hand, she holds her nunchucks, modified once she had to put the staff to rest -- at least for now. it was hard at first, as if it was like losing another part of henry, but what he taught her went far beyond the weapon she wields, and once she accepted that, it got easier to fit into her new routine.

getting back to this level of expertise had been a chore, but she's confident now as she looks around at the bodies on the ground, surprised by what she actually managed to do --- and taking pride in the way tector compliments her.

❝ i was hoping for ten,  ❞ she says, letting out a small laugh, and she can't wipe the smile from her features ( one that comes much easier now, more like herself than she's ever even known to be before. ) ❝ --- no, uh, not really. at least, not usually. it's kind of fun now, ❞ she admits, because now, she's had the chance to tae classes, to catch up on all the things she never got the chance to learn --- even the simplest things, like really learning numbers, how to count, how to keep track of things like this. ❝  have you always done that? ❞  

[skaterfc]

Ooo what’s Niki up to in your rewrite? Does she still join the syndicate?

How perfect to follow the Jack Manifold question!! :D

Yes, she still joins the Syndicate, and the Syndicate even has a bigger cast of members this time around! But eventually, in the epilogue of the story basically, she sort of retires from the syndicate and goes to live in Snowchester.

At first, in her Team Rocket mindset and her post-doomday mental heath crisis, joining the syndicate is great for her mental health. Having people to rely on and that listen to her is really important to her and really helps this first stage of her character growth! She is still working on her underground city underneath Kinoko Kingdom with the hopes that one day all her friends will come down to live there with her. (i especially wanna say that this is totally a metaphor, at least in my version, for her wishing that people could be there with her in her bad mental state she could have people to relate to. But as a consequence would have the other people's mental health suffering as well. the best thing for her would be to leave the underground, but she couldn't see herself doing that, leaving to live with the syndicate. After all, when you are in the depths of depression and mental health crisis, you can't see a world where you are ever out of it).

Niki DOES NOT help to free Dream from prison. In fact the syndicate has no involvement with Dream's prison breakout, thats all Punz and Enderwalk!Ranboo. Then once dream does break out, as I said in the last post, he gets up to some SHIT and the server decides to form a rebellion to strike back at him!

When the syndicate allies with the Rebellion to take down dream, she moves into the underground area the rebellion is stationed out of. A side effect of this being that now she is constantly around the people that she sort of hates and used to be her best friends back in L'manburg. But this tight nit community, being around these people constantly, actually is the next big step to her healing arc. Where she is reminded that what she was searching for all this time was the community and sense of belonging that L'manburg gave her. In fact, this experience of her reconnecting with Tommy, Tubbo, Fundy, Eret, and even cWilbur, encourages her to show some of the newer members who never got to see Golden-Age L'manburg what it was really like. This changes their perspectives becuase they always thought it was either like new L'manburg or worse and they never understood why these guys had so much devotion to it. But now they do! She also starts up a little bakery shop in this underground area and works to expand and decorate it to make it feel more home-y.

She's then later involved in 2 major battles against dream, as well as the final fight! And like I said, after the whole thing is said and done, She goes to live in snowchester with Tubbo, Jack and Puffy. (oh yeah, she's still dating puffy! though they prolly had some rocky moments with everything going on) To help once again foster that sense of community and be around people that care about her. She doesn't quit being apart of the syndicate though.

Thank you so much for the question!! Love getting to put my character knowledge to the works! If you think there is anything aggressively ooc in here, let me know! the rewrite is not technically finished yet and I want to make sure everything is sound as can be!

[fallenfar]

I can't believe we are here again and in an even worse situation. How can so many be so unbelievably dangerously stupid.

The whole world is fucking doomed and no that is not a doomdays posting, it is a fact. The world enviroment is fucked, Ukraine is fucked, the middleeast is fucked, Putin is giggling in one of his palaces made of bones, actually all disgusting dictators on the planet are so happy right now and good people are shrewed. So so many will die. Europe is fucked.

Everyone who didn't vote or voted third party because of your precious moralgrounds, this is on you. May you burn first. And fuck you.

[ask-the-kitty-crew]

(I wanna try stages for MB like we did with the non-Doomday and Doomsday timelines for Beta and Shelby (except the plot is different and its canon-) Tell me what you think 👀

Pre-reconcile/Resentful - MB is pretty much like this during the RPs from season 1-4 until the Lost Treasure of Griffonstone- He hates the fact Shade is super rude to almost everyone in the family and has some beef with him, so he kinda insults him back, but it slowly escalates from there once they get to Griffonstone- I think you and I know how this will go down ._.

Regret - After hearing Shade's backstory, he realizes how an asshole he was to him for the past days (weeks? months?), and once they get back from Griffonstone, MB shuts himself out from everyone, not just Beta and Shade, and gets into a big depressive episode.. I guess he isn't so loyal after all..

Post-reconcile - Finally the wholesome part of this arc, MB eventually warms up to Shade and they get along now! Plus, Shade finally has a change of heart :3)

- Wolf (@minusgangtime's mod)

Yeeeah! :D

[arofundy]

post doomday after techno/dream/phil light the gas pumps on fire this sign and a burnt husk of the back half of the building are all thats left.

this is what the lmanberg flag looks like btw wilbur climbed to the top of the sign to spraypaint it over the gas station logo

[doomdaysdecays]

[silencedrage]

Post- S2 finale starter for AKILAH ( @doomdays )

They stay by the burning remains of the cabin, if only because it keeps them warm in the dead of night, but Tai can't tear her eyes away from the smoldering husk that is left over. As the sun begins to rise over the mountains, it's hard to hide the damage that has been done to the one place that had acted as their only shelter during these months. She knows that they have to start moving, start thinking about where they were going to go next, what they would do for food, but Tai doesn't move. That was Natalie's decision now and she would support whatever that choice was, whenever it was made.

The snow crunches under her feet as she walks over to where the JV girls had huddled together, practically falling asleep in a pile of limbs and furs. Only Akilah is awake among them, and Tai beckons her over with a jerk of her head, moving far enough away that they might have some privacy from the others. "You okay?" she asks quietly, as soon as the younger girl joins her. Probably a stupid question given the rude awakening they'd all been given, but it's a miracle that no one had been hurt in the fire, and that was just scratching the surface of what they'd all been through over the last few days.

She remembers pulling the shriveled body of the mouse from Akilah's hands, how the other girl had all but growled at her for trying to take it away, and the utter despair on her face when Akliah realized the truth. It was the hunger, but it was also this place that was slowly turning them all into unrecognizable versions of themselves, versions that would let a young boy drown in the hopes that they could survive for one more day. For Tai, it was pragmatism. Whatever it took to make sure that she and Van and Shauna and everyone else had a fighting chance. But as Van likes to remind her, not everyone is so logic-brained, and she knows that Akilah is someone who leads with her heart and not her head. "Were you able to grab what you needed?"

[survivedsarchived]

“we should be close.” the map spread across the car’s rusted trunk is rendered with an artist’s hand - one of a dozen that indira’s people have given them, the perimeter and its immediate surroundings mapped with exquisite detail. felix traces lines with a gloved thumb, chewing on his inner lip, brow furrowed; he’s silent for a moment, then he glances at will, a scowl beginning to crease the corners of his eyes. “or... i read this wrong.”  he feels his frustration welling, a breath catching in his throat, released in a strained groan; stepping back, he rests his hand instinctually against the s-pole in its hilt, squinting in the sun as he studies their surroundings.

the road curves ahead, blockaded by long abandoned cars - but there’s no signs within sight. great. “maybe we need to find higher ground. get our bearings.” / @doomdays​

[doomdaysdecays]

This blog just came to be what it is with time, so I’ve never done a big intro before. I’ll take the opportunity now!

I’m Dot, I write both sfw and n/sfw whump and have separate tag lists for both. 🖤

My masterpost is linked in my description and lists drabbles as well as two ongoing series. Both series are work in progress, but sure to be continued.

When my inbox is clear, I take requests and make drabbles or prompts out of them. I don’t have any squicks, besides n/sfw involving minors or other obvious taboos, e.g. inc**t. When it comes to common Whump tropes though, all is welcome!

@whump-mania and @pretty-face-breaker are mutuals i appreciate greatly. 💐

I’m currently very close to the 1K milestone and grateful for every member of the community who has been supporting me up to this point. <3 Enjoy my blog!

Whumpmas in July - Day 1

Blog introductions are a staple of the whump community! Browsing tags such as "#whump intro" and "#whump community" you can see new whumpers introducing themselves every day. If you haven't formally introduced yourself yet, take today as an opportunity to do so! Tell us as much or as little about yourself as you want--who you are, what sorts of whump you love, what content we can expect to see on your blog, favorite color, etc.!

If you've been around a while and have already introduced yourself, feel free to re-introduce yourself for any new followers, or take a moment to give an overview of any whumpy projects you may be working on at the moment!

You can reblog this post with your introduction, or make your own post. And don't forget to browse the reblogs here and the relevant tags to see other people's intros! You might just find your new favorite story or a wonderful new friend!

[surviveds-remade]

“come on----- you definitely cheated.” expression tapering to a glare, buck sorts through her pile again, a noise of contempt rising in his throat as he selects a chocolate bar, wrapper faded with age, its contents seemingly intact. “no way you found this in that store. there was barely anything left.” pausing, considering, his frustration softens to curiosity. “...you think it’s still good?”   / @doomdays​​

[moonexile]

LUTHER HARGREEVES from THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY. 🚀 canon divergent + show based portrayal,  not comic friendly.  powered by cj,  25+.

no romantic relationship between luther & allison will be acknowledged here.  do not interact if you romantically ship any of the siblings with each other.  sloane & luther's relationship is strictly platonic in my portrayal.  no ableist jokes about luther’s body modification (i.e. referring to him as ‘ape / monkey man,’ etc) ooc will be tolerated.

my portrayal of luther is currently at doomdays. he will be back on this blog when season 4 comes. feel free to follow me there and/or @itchose, @ladyintree.