#in the scene itself
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connor-rk800 · 1 month ago
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fire-starter
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chloesimaginationthings · 8 days ago
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He has no mouth but he must scream in FNAF..
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queerdraws · 9 months ago
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Fanart for a snippet of my most favorite heartbreaking moment from swordsmans's fic bone-breaker ospreys mate for life (rated E)
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 months ago
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You keep telling yourself that Namari.
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unamazing-sheep21 · 1 month ago
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POV: You're a knight of Favonius who just made the worst decision of your life.
Tldr: Lumine bites the bullet and decides to confront her Abyss Prince brother Aether head on. Two people with more experience on this matter were too late to stop her.
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Part 2/2
By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.
In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.
So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.
When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.
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He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.
The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.
The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.
It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.
And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.
However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.
Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:
Children.
Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.
Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.
They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.
It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.
When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:
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Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.
Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.
"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.
Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.
He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.
Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.
He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.
Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.
He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.
He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.
"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.
He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.
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All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?
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icantspellthings · 4 months ago
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Honestly, I don't mind buff and hairless spock in SNW that much because in my mind I just pretend that spock went through a fuck boy gym rat phase in his 20s because he wanted to look like a ~sexy~ vulcan.
And that's why in TOS in his 30s, he doesn't talk about his past starfleet postings that much because he's embarrassed about it.
Like in a "wow I can't believe Pike had to see me in my fuckboy waxing my chest hoe era, better not tell Kirk about this or else I'd be teased about it until the end of times, let's just pretend I was always a proper logical Vulcan"
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hamable · 10 months ago
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Ok no I do have to make it it’s own post bc I don’t remember the book’s scene in detail but Annabeth seeing the fates cut a string at the arch is so fascinating. Bc we know that’s Luke’s string. He’s not dying soon, but it’s been decided when he will die.
The moment the fates decide that Luke will die and when is right after Percy sacrifices himself. Right after he shows Annabeth his care and loyalty. That she is worth saving. That she doesn’t deserve the wrath intended for her. A set of dominoes has just been toppled and when they all finally fall, she will stand between Luke and Percy and choose Percy. From this moment, from this early on, Luke’s fate is sealed.
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livelovecaliforniadreams · 6 months ago
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astralleywright · 1 year ago
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spent like an hour trying to find a post abt the disparity of origin companion's content in bg3 and couldn't so, hey, this fucking sucks
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wrongspacetime · 1 year ago
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The Fall of the House of Usher 1.08 | The Raven (2023)
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leclercari · 6 months ago
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I wanted to say that I’m looking forward to it. That I miss playing with you. Yeah? Well, I don’t miss playing with you, man. I’m too old for it.
CHALLENGERS (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino
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tsunosagun · 6 months ago
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i flew too high, please catch my fall
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iwasbored777 · 3 months ago
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This is literally Wolverine and Deadpool omfg
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months ago
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At your side [End of Season 2]
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#wen ning#jin ling#wen qing#jiang yanli#a-yuan#It may have taken a year but we did it! The end of season 2!!!#(Granted: this season was nearly twice the length of season one.)#It's been a really fantastic season to draw for. So many iconic moments! It was a lot of work but I had a blast B*)#I also enjoyed experimenting more and more with my comic style. I'm growing as a comic artist bit by bit!#There is even a little bit of shadowing in this one for next season. As a treat. All the fun (and not heart breaking) scenes to come!#Comic talk time: Recently saw 12 angry men for first time and I love the coincidence of the themes aligning here.#They both touch upon the horror of judicial systems - in which the most persuasive argument wins and the truth is a nuisance.#All it takes is one person to stand against the crowd and say 'I do not know what is true. And that is reasonable doubt enough.'#When the majority is for condemning someone guilty - that in itself is persuasive enough.#One will set their mind to what the 'truth' is and refuse to see it any other way. That their perspective is the only correct one.#No one is born with a monopoly on the truth.#Everyone has biases and agendas. Some care not for the outcome - only that they can be on the convenient side.#Lan Wangji is putting everything on the line to say 'I'm not going to go with the majority vote.'#And that is a huge deal in a story that is so politically focused as MDZS is. Everything is a careful chess move to these sects -#and to not play the game is basically sacrificing everything you are and your families name. For some it is unthinkable.#And there is no doubt in LWJ's mind. He would stand there and lose everything if it means upholding justice.#More importantly - these two have each other's backs. The bond is unbreakable. This is the most ride or die I have seen two people be.
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keydekyie · 1 year ago
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Go you funky little SecUnit! Go!
(One of my favorite scenes from the newest Murderbot novel: System Collapse)
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