#i don't own the lost boys

[ofnightshadeandthornyroses]

Of Those That are Sanguinary    Pt.2

Eager to shed blood; bloodthirsty.

Detailed descriptions of a murder scene and body.

It's The Lost Boys. That should probably be expected.

"Here!"

Laddie yells from Dwaynes bike and they come to a stop just under the boardwalk with the smell of blood in the air stronger than before mixing with an intoxicating scent.

Laddie gets off the bike and starts walking a fast pace towards the smell.

Dwayne caught up to Laddie facing him and telling him to go watch the band currently on stage.

"Why can't I help?"

"Not this time bud. We don't what's up there, okay? Go watch the show."

"Can I get a new ice cream?" "Yeah." "Alright!"

He ran off and they went onwards.

— • —

The sight in front of them left them in various states.

Marco and Paul were obviously drooling with starstruck expressions while David looked more amused and Dwayne interested.

There was the question of who did this?

Who took this man and skinned him? Who recreated him? Revived him.

The man, or well used to be, was skined. That skin was pinned to him and together in the shape of bats wings. Scraps of skin were thrown to the side it seemed, the peices cut to make divots in the wins.

Paul fell to his knees dramatically, Marco soon following after.

"Oh fffuck. This has to be for us. It's to beautiful." Paul says with a dreamy look.

"Someone here finally has a sense of art!" Marco says, spread fingers lightly touching the wings.

David takes the newly lit cigarette out of his mouth to speak."Not a thought in your head questioning who did this, huh? Who might be in our territory?"

Something shiny catches Paul's eye. As he shuffles towards it he see it's small and black with red, ruby eyes. It's a bat. He picks it up and Oh the smell coming off of this small thing. Now being able to differentiate the intoxicating smell from the blood, he knows. That pretty babe from the boardwalk.

He woops and jumps up going to David.

"Looky what I found!"

David picks it up and recognizes first, while Paul caught your eyes the bat caught his while he was scoping you out. Then the smell hit him. An intoxicating smell that was the same as yours and all over the area. All over the body. " Ooo I wanna see!" Marco reached over with his blood spotted hands but David batted him away. "Blood, Marco. You'll get that pests smell on it."

Marco sulks back over to the body.

"Do you think the girl did this?"

David's eyes lock with Dwaynes as uses the link.

"It's a possibility. I don't smell anyone else here. Even Laddies smell is basically nonexistent at this point. Laddie said her name didn't he?" "YN. A beautiful name. Fits." Marco joins into the telepathic conversation. "Guys? There's a bone missing. Like, an entire bone."

Them as well as Paul, who had been listening in, go over to Marco and see that there in fact was a bone missing.

How they missed that before, they don't don't know but now that they see it it's obvious the right thigh is missing its skeletal structure.

"What would she need a bone for?" Paul crouched down, scratching his head.

"What wouldn't you need it for? There's so many things you can do with bones!" Marco nudged his shoulder and gets ip looking towards David. "So where do we go from here?"

"Disposal." He states taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Ack- disposal!? Just like that!? Can't we like dry him out or something?"

David tilts his head and narrows his eyes at Marco,"No."

"A picture! A picture!" Marco rushed taking out his Polaroid from the bag attached to his bike proceeding to take pictures of the proclaimed peice of art before him.

"Now we can have at 'em."

— • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • — • —

You walked under the boardwalk hoping to find an empty section of beach or at the very least not get spotted in nothing covering you but undergarments and mesh, ones covered in blood at that, as well as a very incriminating object.

A little ways back you could hear the sound of bikes stopping and your body decided it wanted feel as if a string was a attached, saying hey let's look. We wanna know. We should  know. That's when you decide to quickly and quietly haul ass away from where you came.

Thankfully you only had to dodge one couple making out and hide behind pillars until you got far enough from them to keep on going peacefully.

Eventually you made it to a part that was mostly empty except for a few strays that dotted the beach sparingly. Thankfully it was mostlikely after midnight on a school night in fall and tourists were mostly gone until Christmas or summer.

Stripping out off you mesh top and fish nets so that any one that saw you would think it was a bikini. You came out from under the boardwalkand, covering the trophy as much as possible, and headed straight for the water hoping the dim lighting and distance would be enough for someone to miss you looking like a massacre.

You dropped your shorts and jacket on the sand, keeping hold of your mesh garments, and step into the water. You head into the the water, stopping until you were covered from the shoulders down and began squeezing out the mesh and ultimately using it to help scrub of blood from you body.

It's been so long. All it took was one child bullying asshole and here you were. A memory surfaces of another life, a past life. A different state with police that were getting too close to the truth for comfort.

After cleaning up and wiping down the femur bone you kept, you went back on land grabbing your clothes and hiding bone.

Making your way back under the boardwalk you glance both ways and stall. In the distance you see four large figures in the sky, looking to be carring something, mostlikely prey back to a nest.

Those are some damn big birds.

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[canisalbus]

About that one ask where Machete murders everyone. I'm in my fire phase at the moment and thought blue would look good in contrast to Machete's usual red :)

.

[book-lover85]

Stay at home dad and artist on commission Keefe

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

I am absolutely OBSESSED with the Imperator breed I would be so grateful for any scrap of info you wish to spare 🙏🙏🙏 Atrocitas is GORGEOUS

Thank you!!! And trust me if I weren't working 12-hour shifts I'd have already posted a full ref sheet alongside the roi-de-vitesse one 😔

But i can share some notes for now

Additional note: their breed name comes from the shape of their tail featuring a leaf-shaped blade resembling the spear used by soldiers during the early Roman Republic

Also their classification of heavyweight is based on Roman era standards and for a good portion of the early middle ages when dragons were smaller. In the modern era (at the time of Skies over Jura and canon Temeraire) they're comparable to a large middleweight

Here's some concept art that's already slightly outdated but I haven't managed to draw more yet

[darabeatha]

Valentines' personality test ! : 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐎𝐍𝐄. 𝐋.𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑.

[gomzdrawfr]

making mood boards as banners reminded me the time I would draw banners for fics

[selemina]

Herald of Mercy Kelmi of Varia! :D My way of Mercy monk in our DnD campaign IN SPACE! We just took on a brutal fight against a man that is his complete opposite and yearns for carnage, and Kelmi's need to save everyone almost cost him his life! :D (And I mean, one-shot dead character no saving throws!) So to remember that and the hit he took while vulnerable, I gave him new scars! ... and a new drip, if he would stop being humble and finally accept that he is allowed to wear other clothes than sportswear to a fight!! XD

[starthelostboys]

i know everyone likes to imagine that star is like a great caretaker for laddie but to me she’s like if a deadbeat dad was a girl

[llitchilitchi]

devastating how many books of ancient literature and history have been lost. it's so hard to imagine until you actually see a list and realise that those are the works we know to be lost, just how much of it is gone that we have no idea about?

[ahollowgrave]

Hiiii do you have any more writings or musings about None? I was in your writing tag the other night and they came up a couple times but I'm not sure if I should be picturing a miqo'te or some sort of service animal/familiar lol

Hello! That's so fair, my Odette writings do not offer a lot of description for them! They do have their own tag [HERE] although not much is in it, currently. Some of the screenshots I'm including here and the writings which you've already seen! I'm very sorry for how rambling this is but None is where a lot of alts and relationships spawn from! None is neither a miqo'te nor a service animal (though I think they'd give a huff at the title)! None is the saddest creature in the whole world, a widower, Odette's favorite lil guy, Gerry's estranged step-parent, and a Lalafell:

A Lalafell ranger who makes their living guiding people through the Shroud. These days they are 'mostly' retired. They're well past their middle age and when they were younger they made a deal with sylphs. To be fleet-footed and quick and the best hunter. It came with some side effects:

They wear a hat to cover the ears. It's a bit silly to have two sets and, frankly, None doesn't wanna talk about it. They are stoic, pragmatic, and a bit of a hermit when they can afford it. None is a widower, their late wife was an duskwight woman named Aloutte, who was a widow herself with a young child; Geraldine. None and Gerry were never close and in the wake of Aloutte's passing that distant only grew. None and Odette met at the Menphina temple she was raised at. The Sisters there offer grief counseling and when Aloutte first fell sick she made them go to make the transition easier. A child at the time, Odette was obsessed from the moment they met. A pale shadow trailing after them. Where None failed with Gerry, they bonded with Odette. After Aloutte's passing None returned to the temple to live long term, some grievers need more support than others, they and Odette spent a lot of time together. They very much fill a uncle/aunt role for Odette; a trusted advisor who isn't the adults who raised her. When Odette took her vows and started to travel it was None who traveled with her, taught her basic outdoors skills, bought her Beauty and taught her how to care for chocobos. When Odette has to leave her flock of karakul to travel it is None she calls to care for them. Also, while Aloutte's loss and the grief that follows is very important to None as a character I feel it is important to note they were the saddest creature in the whole world before they knew the warmth of Aloutte's embrace! Sometimes you're just born with a heavy heart, you know? Because of how important they are to Odette. Odile... fucking hates their guts. Oooh, she hates their guts so much!!! The feeling is mutual and Odile and None have come to blows a few times. Something they both keep from Odette; None because they don't want to make her worry, Odile because she'll use the information to drive a wedge at some point. None also features in Odette's WoL AU, they're an honorary scion and spend most of their time with the other off-screen members. They spend time with Krile and Tatatru discussing lalafell things and I like to imagine that F'lhaminn and None have a lot to talk about. This is... pretty long so I will stop here! But I hope this satisfies some curiosity about None and thank you SO MUCH for asking about them!

[marypsue]

In my stints in fandom for The Lost Boys, I've noticed that (for obvious reasons) it tends to attract people for whom the boys are wish fulfilment. And like, that's so fair, I respect literally all of you people, but also, I think I've reached a point in my life where I can comfortably admit that the real wish fulfilment in that movie is Grandpa.

[thaylepo]

Gaze, ye, upon the best boi the world will ever see and know that he is gone, and we are the poorer for it. But especially me, who will never kiss his lil face again and tell him he is my bestest baby dog in the whole world. He had 13 years, 11 with me, and should have had more, and the only thing consoling me rn is the insane amount of whiskey i've consumed to deal with a reality without him in it.

Roddy, my baby dog, my bestest boi. I know the world goes on but fuck. FUCK. I needed you in it, bud. I'm so, so sorry.

[persephone-s-moon]

I've been so so dead on here lately so I'm GOING to start posting my own characters more and none of you can stop me

[57sfinest]

actually i do want to make this a post. it’s so interesting to think about harry from other people’s perspectives, especially if they’re people who were around him before martinaise. because the thing about harry is: he’s a spectacle. there is not a single person left to him who genuinely *cares*. but there are people who take an interest for interest’s sake. harry is the car crash that people can’t look away from, and it’s such a rich lens to view him through.

let’s exclude jean, judit and trant because there’s already enough you can say about them as the sole remaining members of the major crimes unit. think of the other officers who worked at the 41st. whether they worked in c-wing with him or not, they were exposed to him. they had to be around him in some capacity. as a lieutenant, he was “responsible” (i use that term loosely) for overseeing a number of subordinates under the rank system. 

like put yourself in the shoes of a patrol officer at the 41st. you know harry as, in a word, unstable. a deeply unreliable man of extremes with alarmingly few personal attachments to keep him in check. he’s also practically untouchable as long as he keeps getting results, which he does, at a cost. so there’s never any point in formally complaining about him- he’s never going to be corrected or fired, so you just do one of the following: 1) keep your mouth shut (if you’re polite or playing it safe), 2) only bitch about him out of earshot (if you’ve got something to say but you’re nonconfrontational), 3) start shit with him but in a “playful” way that is secretly sincere (if you’re ballsy/have known him long enough), 4) or start shit with him for real (if you’re jean, or have a death wish). 

and the thing about the last two of those options- *especially the 3rd, which seems to be the favorite of his fellow C-wingers*- you have to know him VERY WELL to pull it off without ostensibly getting your nose broken (or worse). you have to know his moods and his triggers and what exact cocktail of bullshit he’s displaying that day so you know where the line is for this particular shift. whoever figures it out first passes it along to everyone else- hey, you can fuck with him about dating today, but don’t bring up the drinking or last week’s case or he’ll go ballistic. and it’s just like... he’s a specimen. you may not know him on a personal heart-to-heart level, but you know him the way a zookeeper knows their tigers, or the way the falconer knows their hawk. you know when to feed and when to back away with your arms up. it doesn’t make things better, but it stops them getting worse. (for you, anyway).

then martinaise happens and if he comes back- his instability is still there, but it’s not the same. you don’t recognize the way he’s acting. maybe some things are not as bad as before, but all of it is different and it’s impossible to get a read on it. you have no idea how to approach him now, or if you should approach him at all. there’s a new layer to his unreliability and it’s somehow even scarier than before. there’s a tiny tiny calm in his storm, finally, and you don’t know when it’s going to break or what’s going to break it. you hear he’s finally actually kicking the booze and maybe you just scoff and move on, or maybe you let yourself root for him. really it all depends on how long you’ve known him, how many times you’ve seen him *try*. how sympathetic you are to his conditions and how patient of a person you are. how many times he’s hurt you (because that number is rarely going to be zero). no matter what, you’re going to be left wondering. you don’t know how much of him is gone. you don’t know how much is going to come back. you’re not sure how much of each you *want*.

[dirtytransmasc]

self indulgent got concept.

Ned brings Jon home, Cat hates the boy, everything stays the same... until Robert Baratheon is charging through the halls of Winterfell looking for the babe, ready to butcher the poor thing where he lay helpless in his cradle.

in a matter of moments Catelyn learns three things:

The babe was never a bastard, Ned had only lied to her to protect Jon, and that she would die before she let Robert lay a finger on the babe she'd previously wished death upon.

cue Catelyn Stark snatching Jon from his cradle, holding him, protecting him, loving him as she would her own son, risking it all to keep him safe, all care for herself thrown to the wind.

like they say, what a mother's love holds no bounds, and what it makes her capable of had no limits.