#oh no there's a part two

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Sadly, being able to trap a vampire afforded absolutely no protection against being snuck up on in turn. They didn't even realise he was there until he was already right in front of them.

"What the-" They reared back, staggering, reflexively reaching for the silver mirror in their pocket. "Why are y-"

"Why did you let me find this?" the vampire snarled, his by now familiar features even paler than usual. He was shaking something at them that they at length realised were three empty, but still bloody vacutainers.

"What-?"

"This was your blood!" he hissed. There was a fierce, ruby glitter in the depth of his eyes. "Why?"

They resisted to urge to back away further and stood their ground. "The lab didn't have any leftover samples today," they replied curtly. The first spike of adrenaline was wearing off, giving them space to be annoyed. Who the hell did he think he was, stalking them on their way home!

They glared, but the vampire didn't seem to notice. He was staring at them in complete disbelief. "So you- you drew your own blood?"

They gave an impatient shrug. Clearly he already knew that, so why all the-

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"You need to eat, don't you?" they bit back, rather insulted at the implication that they wouldn't concern themself with whether he went hungry or not. How on earth would that help keep their patients safe? "You seriously think I would be this sloppy with medical waste without being certain you would dispose of it? I know you stop by on Tuesdays and Fridays."

He was still staring at them and he looked rattled enough for them to relax a little themself.

"Give me those," they ordered, snatching the tubes from his cold hand. Luckily the caps were screwed on properly. They stuffed them into their pocket. "How did you even know it was mine."

The vampire drew in a shaking breath that dissolved into a sudden, scoffing laugh. "You think I don't know what your blood smells like?" he burst forth, a tense, restless edge creeping into his movements. "That I wouldn't recognise it immediately?"

He threw up his hands and suddenly he was all up in their face again, grimacing with his fangs on full display. He was almost touching them.

"It was bad enough just knowing what you smell like! Now I'll never get rid of the taste of you…" The red in his eyes seemed to brighten somehow. "Three whole vials-"

They stared at him with as much confusion as suspicion. "You're welcome?"

"Sunlight take me, you don't have a scrap of preservation instinct do you," he gasped, turning abruptly away from them.

"I'm a nurse," they snapped. "You want to stop being my problem? Get the hell out of my town!"

"So you're saying you'll do this again!" He sounded like he was about to laugh again, but nothing about him felt amused.

"Not if this is what I get for my troubles." They weren't afraid, not exactly, if he had meant to hurt them he would have tried to already. But there was something about the way he was looking at them that was-

"Good," he snarled. "Because you shouldn't."

They narrowed their eyes at him and resolutely turned away. "Right, well, I have somewhere to be." They really didn't expect thanks, they didn't even feel like they were even owed gratitude for what was essentially emergency care, but they sure as hell didn't need to stand here and be told off. "You'd be easier to keep hidden from the slayers if you weren't so damn difficult," they muttered under their breath.

"And you would taste even better without anticoagulants."

"What?" They spun round, but there was nobody there. Not anymore.

They stood perfectly still for a second or two, but even the silence was empty. Empty enough to be completely filled with questions by the time they had hurried home.

[lostonmyroad]

jessica really said “god forbid women do anything” and doomed an entire people to war by installing her twink son as a false prophet by stealing her cult’s 10,000 year old breeding program propaganda

[mourn-and-watch]

ekko describing jinx from his timeline to powder as someone who's just different but whose ideas change the world. jayce saying to machine herald!viktor that his imperfections are a part of everything that made him so admirable. powder getting mesmerized when she sees different timeline!ekko before he leaves. jayce building his whole life around the idea he got from different timeline!viktor when he saved him. love does transcend reality after all

[coddda]

I wish we could have met in some other way.

Lawlight Week Day 2: Soulmates

If you saw me repost and re-edit this several times uh No you didn't </3

Still frames/Individual gifs:

If you know what every frame is from you get a free cookie. by the way

[fuckyeahisawthat]

So there is this thing that the two Villeneuve Dune movies do together that I cannot stop thinking about, where they will present something (often, a weapon) in a context the first time around where it looks a certain way (often, very sexy and cool). And then they will present it again in a way that doesn't exactly negate your reading of the original context but makes you recoil in horror from the new context.

Paul and Jessica using the Voice to escape from their Harkonnen captors? Very sexy and cool. Look at them working together, mother and son, a couple of space witch badasses.

Jessica using the Voice on Chani to force her to participate in reviving Paul after he drinks the Water of Life? Horrifying. Saying you will be part of this myth that has been created to serve political ends that have nothing to do with your liberation, and if you don't do it voluntarily to save the person you love then I will make you do it.

Chani and Paul working together to take down the ornithopter gunship using those little shoulder-fired rockets? Very sexy and cool, we love guerrilla warfare against an occupying army. (I'm not being facetious here, this sequence is extremely satisfying to watch.)

The much later image of Paul silhouetted against the blast from the missiles from his family's private nuclear arsenal blowing up the shield wall? Nightmarish.

The way the climactic battle to retake the palace at Arrakeen extends into the night so that it begins to look very very much like the initial Harkonnen attack on the same place? I'm sure this is intentional; the whole third act is about taking a giant sledgehammer to the idea that the Atreides are the better or more civilized imperialists.

Perhaps my favorite example of this is the Atreides signet ring. When Paul first puts it on in the first movie, it's a symbol of him accepting that Leto is dead. It's a melancholy moment, but it's also a sign of Paul accepting the responsibility of his birthright as the new Duke.

Early in the second movie, when he is trying to be equal to the Fremen, he takes the ring off. And you just know that when he decides to put it back on again, that will be the sign that everything's about to go to shit. And when it happens it's a very similar moment--it is Paul accepting his birthright, just a different kind. But the accompanying feeling is oh no.

[tizzymcwizzy]

THANK YOU BUGGACHAT!!! EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU BUGGACHAT!!!!!!

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Stanley wasn't sure if he was supposed to be dead. He wasn't all too sure if he was supposed to be alive, either.

He was... somewhere. He didn't know where exactly, but it didn't matter. Nothing really seemed to matter all that much in this strange place. Compared to the unfathomable expanse of nothingness that surrounded him, everything else practically paled in comparison. Still, Stanley felt as though this all-consuming abyss that kept him prisoner within its dark maw deserved a name; at the very least, a title. Yet, it didn't feel right to call this place anything. Death too egregious, and Life too extroadinary; either terms felt far too extreme to his liking. There was nothing particularly hideous nor amazing about where he was. He was simply somewhere in-between.

For as long as he could remember, Stanley's world was just that. This somewhere; this in-between of not quite Death and not quite Life. This empty, greedy abyss that seemed to swallow him whole, stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. There was no sky, no ground, no anything; only the daunting dakness engulfing his every senses and leaving him horribly, hopelessly blank.

That wasn't all there was to it, however. This... somewhere, it was more than just a lifeless void.

Stanley wasn't sure if he could find the right words to properly describe it. He didn't think he could ever come to fully understand the feeling himself, but. Somehow, the abyss felt... hungry. Unimaginably, insatiably, and unbearably hungry.

The hunger seemed to eat away at Stanley, tearing off pieces of him chunk by chunk, piece by piece. With every blink, another part of himself seemed to disappear into the ravenous darkness around him. The void never took much at once, only pieces; nigh imperceptible impossibly tiny crumbs of what made him- so little that they should have hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. But Stanley noticed. He noticed every particle, every atom that was taken away from him by this greedy hunger. The darkness was eating him; digesting him.

It was as though hunger was all that mattered in this somewhere, this stomach; the world itself a single immense digestive system. He could practically feel the void's biting hunger pangs reverberate through his bones. It was so hungry, so hungry.

The dark ate him slowly, ripping him apart from inside out and outside in. It took his flesh first; stealing away the muscles and fat beneath the skin, leaving behind nothing but meager skin stretched over bone. Sometimes, not even his bones were given the luxury of being spared, and he would find himself with an odd dip in his side where the abyss had taken a rib or two; or with half his face lopsidedly sagging into a limp mess with no muscles, fat, nor eye socket to properly hold up the skin of his face onto his skull.

The hunger took without mercy, without order nor preference. It ate anything, everything, as long it helped abate the forever stabbing, starving desperation that painfully twisted and tore at its non-existent stomach. It never really was satisfied.

It got worse when it started eating his memories.

Stanley despised the thought of losing more of himself than simply his physical body to this greedy void. However, what terrified him far more than the notion that this insatiable hunger could breach even his mind, was the fact that he couldn't remember which memories it took.

Stanley couldn't remember much; before the darkness; before the endless hunger. He liked to imagine, though, of what he could have been before. He'd probably had a warm home, warmer than the cold, cold abyss. He'd probably had a loving family. Probably. He couldn't remember.

Everything turned unsure when his own mind started failing on him. Stanley tried to cling to what little he knew. He had his name held tight in his iron clad grip, repeating it to himself like a mantra. He would try and keep track of time, but it was all in vain. Time didn't seem to matter in the face of hunger. Perhaps it had been years since Stanley's arrival; hundred, maybe even thousands. Or, perhaps it had only been a few days, weeks, months. Stan once had a fleeting, terrifying thought that maybe Time too was already victim to the darkness' insatiable hunger.

However, as much as Stan could forget his past, his identity, and life, perhaps the most tragic loss to him greater than anything else was the memory of Him.

He was important to Stanley. He couldn't remember why, but he was. There was nothing of Him left in his memories. No face, no name; not even why He mattered to him in the first place. All he knew was that the loss of Him had struck him with such profound heartache and sorrow that it had left him weeping helplessly for so long, unable to move and rooted in one spot for days, weeks, years. He couldn't remember how long.

Stan was only snapped out of his comatose stupor by His hand.

It was all that was left of Him, other than the knowledge of His past existence. It was warm, a glowing red hand that pulsed almost reassuringly within Stanley's own, its long six digits curled tightly and firmly around his hand, never once faltering in its grip. He couldn't remember a time when he didn't have it. He's had it clutched within his own cold, rough palms like a lifeline since forever; every step he took and every move he made done hand in hand with Him.

Desperately, frantically, he held onto His hand, never once letting it go. Losing the hand meant losing Him for good, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to cope with the consequences of that all alone.

However, ocasionally, even the the comforting presence of His hand was unable to keep his mind anchroed for too long, and Stanley would lose track of his memories. Plagued by odd laspes of utter emptiness, Stanley would suddenly forget. His own name, his face, everything he knew and remembered would slip withut warning between his fingers like sand; streaming down, down, down and getting lost in the gaping mouth of the void below him. He would wander aimlessly with no real destination in mind, simply roaming somwhere, anywhere.

He would come across all sorts of sights during these odd episodes of his. He'd crossed paths with hundreds upon thousands of partically decomposed remnants of once living, breathing organisms; All of them endeniably, for the lack of better words: dead. He'd walked past entire forests; enormous clusters of tall pine trees completely uprooted and floating in a massive mass of rotting leaves and half digested bark. He'd walked past countless animals, big and small, all in various stages of digestion. Animals always seemed to rot away faster than anything else, and Stanley wasn't so sure what that meant for him.

Once, Stan had somehow even found his way before the destroyed remains of a universe.

It was dead. There was no other way to describe the state it was in. He hadn't even known it was possible for entire universes to simply... die. Stolen away from its rightful place in the starry night sky.

The scene was everything he'd thought impossible to take place in this all-consuming abyss. It was extroadinary. A veritable bursting cacophany of light and heat. It was as though the universe's explosion had been paused at just the right moment, frozen in time at the very moment of its heat death. Its particles flickered, undulating softly and shifting ever so slightly like looking through a warped window. If Stanley stood still enough, and listened closely, he thought he could even hear the softest sound of the shattered screams of the broken remains of the universe ringing silently in the air. It was as ethereal as it was haunting.

The thought of the unimaginable power required to be able annihilate entire universes just like that... It scared Stan.

Stanley may not be sure of anything anymore, but as he watched the debris swirl gently in the blinding epicenter of the shattered universe from afar, he knew with a certainty that he didn't think he possessed anymore, that he did not belong here.

Part 1/2

[inkedberries]

expanding on the thought of kudou getting the call sign 'hero' and afo getting irked by it for some reason

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Wrapping up the season with a redraw (Jan 2024)!

Thank you all for these last 6 months, I have loved making so many people laugh from my silly comics B*)

[slushglow]

the price of your mercy

[plumbum-art]

´I did the „I was wrong“ dance in 1650, 1793, 1941…“´

What happened during Aziraphales apology dance in 1941?

A silly little GO2 comic in two parts. In which there is a lot of text, a nopology and a bit of jealousy.

[caelacanth]

Oooooh the girls are problem solving (the ship is exploding in ten minutes)

Alt below

[starscream-is-my-wife]

This is part 1 of a continuation for my other post where LL Megatron gets trapped in the G1 universe, I was thinking about how someone would go insane in this cartoon world and thought "what if Megatron had someone else to accompany him" so, I gave Starscream an existential crisis

Edit: final part is out, I tagged everything as G1 x LL AU!

[fluffyartbl0g]

Everytime I go into the Zosopp tag, I just see people SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING about the lack of posts IN the Zosopp tag. THE ZOSOPP ECONOMY IS IN SHAMBLES

[chalamet-chalamet]

Timothée Chalamet, Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin behind the scenes of Dune: Part Two

Twitter credit to asatcdune