#lmk if anything needs changed !

[nobroth]

starter for @ourdawncomes [gorim]

"Sooo... she mentioned that she got sentenced to go into the Deep Roads alone to fight the darkspawn," Alistair says slowly, his head tilting at the dwarf at the fire next to him, seemingly having settled in with them for the night. "Do the dwarves not... worry about doing things like that? I mean, with the darkspawn. The Taint. What do you all do if--"

"I mean, I know she was sentenced to death or whatever," probably too light a tone for the subject, and Alistair grimaces at his own fault before barreling through. "So I guess they didn't expect her back. But why don't more dwarves Join the Wardens? If you fight the creatures all the time? What do you do if someone comes back sick?"

[oftomorrow]

@wundor

Ever since Clark officially revealed himself to the world as Superman, he's noticed people beginning to follow in his footsteps. Whether he's inspired them directly or they've simply started around the same time as him, he can't really say. But there's something reassuring about it. There's a handful now that he's keeping a closer watch on -- a masked vigilante in Gotham, a speedster in Central City, an archer in Star City... and lately, reports of a truly impressive woman with a lasso around the Boston area.

He has to check it out for himself. Keeping an ear out works before too long -- a news report on her latest escapade, and Clark is zipping across state lines at top speeds, determined to catch her in action. He watches from a distance, but doesn't interfere. It doesn't look like she needs the help.

Only after all the civilians are safe and mostly dispersed does he make his presence known, floating above the ground several feet behind her, cape billowing slightly in the breeze. "That was very impressive."

[hvbris]

@ofmentorship . Haymitch gets a starter

When Lucy Gray had appeared at the reaping for the first time, three years after her victory, she had half expected Coriolanus to send peacekeepers to her door. For weeks after the 13th Hunger Games, she thought he would kill her, somehow. But then, he didn't.

She kept his secrets.

37 years later, she was still alive, and he was still President. It was a strange status quo. She had children now, and every year she feared their names might get picked at the reaping. And every year, her relief was only short-lived. Yes, her children were safe, but she still had two tributes to protect. Somebody else's kids, who might never come back home. And for 37 years, she kept being the only mentor. How could the tributes of District 12 stand a chance, with their famished bodies and inexperienced hands.

This year, however, was worse than ever. Four children. Four.

"Hello there," she said gently, sitting down in front of the only tribute who hadn't run to their cabin as soon as they boarded the train that was quickly ripping them away from their homes. "You're Haymitch Abernathy, aren't you?"

[lifefcrged]

@rubiesintherough / wraith sent a meme.

sender  is  found  by  receiver  somewhere  they  shouldn’t  be .

Her movements are quiet. Nearly imperceptible, as she slithers towards the intruder. There is an instinct, some part of her that tells her she should have stayed in her watcher's position, that she should have only seen him through the scope of her rifle. It would have been the expedient way to dispatch him. But she is restless, these days. Waiting, and patrolling fills the majority of her waking hours. Only now and then, is she brought in to question an interloper, or sent on the missions to raid other settlements. Too valuable to risk, they say. Too important to the security of the city. Boredom is a dangerous thing to let breed in a captive predator.

The security of the city. That is their mandate for her, is it not? Her brain reasons, makes the argument that she would have to present to her Keeper, to justify why she had not simply taken the shot to kill the invader. If he had made it inside the city walls, then there was a breach. And while she might be punished for that fault, how could she prevent a similar such incursion in the future, if she did not know how this man had gotten past the first layer of barricades? It sounded reasonable enough to her. "Move in any way other than to put your hands on your head and turn to face me, and I'll take out a knee." Steady. Confident, in her skill to do so. A hint, though, of an underlying itch that he might disobey. "Turn. Slowly."

/ post apocalyptic programmed! mikkah.

[roseguided]

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐙𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃. anna makes a point of taking assignments outside the walls, in the world, among the infected. no one should ever get comfortable, complacient, in their world ... getting comfortable, not being exposed to danger, could lead to death. death of yourself, of others, except this time it isn't an assignment. it's her child--an argument gone wrong, ellie thinking she could handle herself outside of the zone. away from the guards when she wasn't anywhere close to being so. with her gun raised, finger kept off of the trigger, anna eases open the door of an overgrown house, being as quiet as she can. booted foot steps inside, eyes & the end of her gun sweeping over a seemingly empty living room. in measured steps, she takes steps forward toward the kitchen only to be taken aback, startled, by a person standing in it. anna gasps, going stiff, ❛ you scared me, ❜ she nearly laughs, lowering the gun half way. ❛ i'm- ... i didn't expect anyone to be in this area. are you .. are you okay ? ❜

[ * @madsway liked for a starter ! > ft anna williams. ]

[hongtonie]

✿ SEUNGKWAN ✿ SNAPSHOOT + LEFT & RIGHT +

[crueldudethesis]

hai moot :D this guy (totally not me..) plz plz plz

ʃ HELLO HELLO MOOT !!! I had TONS of fun drawing this guy (that’s totallyyy not you) hope u enjoy broski ^_^

[brittlefcrged]

Reese had spent a lot of her life reflecting on all of the very bad days that she had, somehow, if only by the skin of her teeth, survived and -- honestly, she'd had more than a few. Most of them had involved death. The loss of her parents had shattered what semblance of control she had on her reality and left her broken beyond any possible repair - the straw that had broken the camel's back to her tenuous grip on her sanity. What was left of her after that, held together by hope and a prayer, had splintered into a thousand miniscule pieces with Marcus' loss and her first personal dance with Death.

She'd always wondered if she'd just come back wrong after that, but no matter how many times she'd thrown herself into harm's way, how many times she'd plunged the needle or the razor into her skin to dare Death to finish what it had started, she hadn't ever seemed to shake the oh so bruised and battered mortal coil. She was so tired. Every year that came and went felt like another albatross around her neck. Inevitable. Inescapable.

This time, like so many other times, she had ignored the agitated whispers in her mind, had ignored the twisting in her gut and the icy chill that had left icicles in her spine at his voice, at his touch. After all -- what was the worst that could happen?

Strange, then, that for as much as she had courted Death, that she should fight so hard to live. Fought against the vice like grip of his fingers around her throat -- struggled for consciousness, against the swirl of black and white explosions at the edges of her vision, fought against the fiery burn of whatever he had injected her with, her throat raw from her curses and her screams. Even the darkness that swallowed her conscious thoughts had not been merciful. She had felt it all. Each precise angle of the scalpel through the layers of her skin, each press of fingers and metal against the organs and muscles that he had toyed with, rearranged, prodded, sliced, excised.

She had heard - felt - the staggered, sluggish beat of her pulse as it weakened, as it slowed, and somewhere in the haze of her memories, she could hear a melody that wound in time with it until there were finally no more tears to stain her temples, there was no more staccato drum of pulse, there was no more pain, and even the blackness itself had simply... gone.

The breath that was drawn in was rough, and loud, and desperate - the spasm that tore through her was violent, and sharp - fingers flared and limbs pulled up against the straps that held her in place and confusion and panic were written in equal measure on her expression as she tried to find some sense in the position she found herself in and the pain that throbbed and stung in her flesh. Was she dreaming? Had it been a dream? Was any of this real? "Help -- " Her words were hoarse, raspy. "Help me ---"

@brittlefcrged gets a plotted starter

The silence was a heavy contrast to the previous crying and screams. That was part of the thrill, separate from the rush of power when watching a person's life drain from their eyes. The blonde lay lifeless with a bruise around her neck from Benjamin's hand. Choking had not killed her, though, it had only made her more cooperative while he had prepared the table, tarp, and tools. No, what had ultimately killed her was slowly bleeding out while Benjamin operated on her insides.

With a gloved hand, he brushed the messy hair from her face and watched her in silence. She reminded him of someone. Unsure of whom. "What will they write about you, Reese Adams?" She was a horrible choice to pick as a victim. He knew this. Yet he had done all this anyway, and taken extra precautions to not get caught - at least not immediately. His eyes traveled down her exposed chest and carefully sewn-shut abdomen. She wasn't stripped of her clothes - only her top had been cut open in the middle and moved aside. He wasn't a pervert. 

He removed his gloves, put them down on a tray next to a kidney, and moved to gently remove Reese's own. "Thank you, ma'am." He carefully rolled them up and pocketed them. Just a nice little reminder, or a trophy if you will. Now only the most boring part was left. "Ugh. This is why I stopped, wasn't it," he grunted and turned to the rest of the shed. It wasn't that messy as he liked to keep things clean, but it didn't make it less of a shore to clean everything up. 

[the-king-of-lemons]

Headcanon i've had for a while now about how minecraft hack clients could work, similar to the headcanons about how in game chat would work.

Just sort of an explanation with some examples, obviously some hacks are pretty hard to translate into a physical thing, but i tried my best. :)

Full text can also be found under read more.

"Hack Clients" are illegal modifications of a player's attire (i.e. player skin) in order to give them an unfair advantage. The visibility of a "Hack Client" modification depends on the server a player is on. On servers such as 2b2t, these modifications are obviously visible while on stricter servers, such as Hypixel, hackers will try to be more subtle, often hiding modifications underneath clothing.

Eyewear: Modified for use of visual hacks (i.e. x-ray. fullbright, esp, etc.), the easiest to hide from moderators.

Footwear: Modified for use of hacks such as Anti-Knockback, High-jump, and other similar hacks.

Mechanical Braces: Used to allow players to move with otherwise impossible reaction times, most often used for PVP. Completely illegal on most servers, players will attempt to hide them underneath clothing but often fail.

Leg brace: Used for b-hopping.

Arm brace: Used for kill-aura and aimbot.

[couch-house]

Commissions for @son1c, @splashtail (and @sonboygemerl), @spoiledskullz, @sonia-the-hedgehog-2369, and @onesecretperson!!

These were so much fun!! Thank you all for commissioning me <33

[hvbris]

@multipleoccupancy . Theo's family gets bigger

The Baudelaires had been in New York for a few days now, living in the house of their new guardian: Theodore Beneventi. New York reminded Violet of the town where she grew up, only bigger. Much, much bigger.

Mr. Beneventi, who had told them they could call him Theo, seemed like their most normal guardian so far. For starters, he was not afraid of turning on the stove, which was very nice, because it meant the Baudelaires could enjoy a warm meal for the first time in a few weeks. There were no snakes in the house either, which, to be fair, was to be expected. And of course, here, they were not ordered to do horribly long and difficult chores.

The other thing that differed from their last guardians, was that Theo already had a family. He had a wife, Andrea, two sons, and a baby daughter, who was already getting along great with Sunny.

Violet felt like their luck might have finally turned. Even the terrifying shadow of Count Olaf didn't seem as scary, considering that Theo was an FBI agent. She did not usually consider herself lucky, not since the terrible fire that had killed her parents, at least. But for the first time in months, she was feeling much more hopeful than usual.

And, it's with that noteworthy hopefulness that she left the room she shared with her siblings, and tip-toed to the kitchen. It was still early in the morning, but she was awake and craving a glass of milk.

"Good morning," she said politely when she saw that the kitchen area wasn't empty. Theo was already there. He was very nice, and she already felt comfortable around him, so she poured herself a glass of milk. "The view is very beautiful from here," she commented, not only to make conversation but also because it was true.

[ambitionfcrged]

There were few and far between in William's long life that could have escaped intact ... or mostly intact... with the displays of impudence and rebellion that the lycanthrope had skated by with in their comparatively short time together. There were a few key differences between Hale, and others that had tried, though. For starters, Hale seemed to know enough to keep the worst of his brattish tendencies to behind closed doors. And secondly, he was not just more durable than most of William's other playthings, he all but literally asked for the suffering that followed his outbursts. It was ... almost delightful.

"Oh -- I think we both know that I will threaten you with whatever damn well pleases me," William replied, a step taken forward to close the distance that had formed between them at Hale's retreat. A hand rose, fingers hovering a fraction of an inch from Hale's jaw and chin in a mirror image of how his own had been held. Minute shimmers, the smallest crackles of energy, the slivered hair line thin jolts of electricity jumping between his fingers and Hale's skin. "And when I do, you'll thank me for it, won't you, pup."

more often than not, hale goes where the wind blows him. many would describe him as pretty damn chill but william managed to feed that inner pain like no one else had in a damn, damn long time. so, lashing out is completely unexpected. but, with the other man's jaw gently pressed between several fingers the wolf can only draw a line up his cheek with the tip of his nose.

" don't threaten me with a good time, " his head tilts to the side. the more time he spent around the other the more he understood just what kind of fire he was playing with. tatum, his best friend, would think he was fucking crazy but no one could really understand what the self hatred fed off of. " it's a fucking gorgeous face, i'll tell you, that. "

pulling back, both hands drop back to his sides so hale can shove them into the pockets. the surge of confidence that made him step forward dissipated as soon as it hit him. " besides. someone should keep you on your toes now and then. "

[roboraindrop]

Hey plus size or underweight self shippers? Your f/os don't see your weight as a flaw. They love you for all that you are, and that includes everything. Yes, human beings are very flawed. Yes, your f/os do love your flaws as well! But, your weight is not a flaw. Just wanted to make sure you knew that. 💕

[roseguided]

@chaintrapped LIKED for a starter ! ft odelia kramer

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍’𝐓 do on her own. she could never fight hoffman one to one, he’s too strong for her. she would need someone else’s help, backup, & she knew of one person still living who could help. but, odelia would need to be sneaky—she couldn’t let hoffman know what she was doing or it would throw off the entire plan to save her mother. ( was it jill’s fault that her fathers last wish was to put his once trusted apprentice into a test of his own ? she was just doing what was asked of her, & odelia didn’t see that as grounds for murder. hoffman should know she would never let him murder her mother in revenge. ) ; sneaking into his office had been easy. she’s been able to scope out the security situation days before, to watch gordon on his late night visits to see what the code to get in was. now, sitting in his office chair she waits with black hood drawn over her shoulders only lit up by a lone desk light. choosing to be nice, odelia doesn’t snoop through his papers or belongings. then, the door opens & she speaks the second he closes the door: ❛ i’ve been waiting for you, doctor gordon. ❜ who she is should come as no shock to the doctor, given his work with her father. ❛ ya know, you really should change your security code. ❜ the young woman grins, meaning it as a light jab.

[legendling]

my partner got me into object shows in the year of our lord 2024

hello osc community can we be frien d s,.

(its from s2, but just in case spoilers under the cut)

full lineup bc i unintentionally drew them in ranibow order

[chaosmultiverse]

Bart looked at Tim for a moment unsure of how to react, normally Tim wasn't one to do that... Hm.

"Hey yeah, of course. Uh, sorry? Didn't mean to get in your space like that, probably should have asked first before I did that." He did have the bad habbit of just jumping into actions, even things like hugs or affectionate actions without much warning with his close friends, normally it didn't seem to cause a problem but, well Bart wouldn't do go Tim's neck again.

Bart stuck his hands in his pocket for now, letting them just fidget with the things in there as he kept talking to Tim.

"...Are you alright?" He was a little hesitant to ask, sometimes asking that just draw unwanted attention to the issue but, he did honestly want to know, and know if he could do something to help.

Open SAAM-Related Starter

Tim was... in a sort-of limbo, when it came to things that one might formally call triggers. In their line of work, everyone had them, and often, everyone had so many, that it was difficult to exist comfortably in one's skin on any given day.

As such, Tim tended to ignore his. He simultaneously had too many to pay attention to, and not many that were at all common enough to cause trouble very often.

Case in point: his hand coming up to slap someone else's away from the space in front of his neck, as he blurted, "Don't--"

They paused, then, an embarrassed flush crawling up the tips of their ears, as they mumbled, "Er, sorry. I can do it myself." And he reached for his tie with half-steady hands.