#should be ok methinks

[wolfviolence]

yayyyy pink oppy!!!!

*cough* erm. other version under da cut....heh (suggestive)

[milkbreadtoast]

choose your protag..... YOU COULD WRITE A SUPER LONG META ESSAY COMPARING/CONTRASTING THESE 2 BUT I WANTED TO MAKE A SHITPOST FORGIVE ME🤧✌️

[skep-eroni]

Picking a random TWST card to draw until I get to all of them or give up

Card 2: Malleus Apprentice Chef SR

[potatobugz]

hypothetical "the rat grinders if they were bad kids and vice versa" type drawings. there are many thoughts swimming around in my brain...

was this mostly an excuse to draw gorgug in mary ann's style of outfit? maybe. am i having fun? absolutely <|:)

[gabugabs]

rory is on a very important QUEST

[polarades]

please tie your hair up

[st4rstudent]

A Problem Has Been Detected

I timelapsed this one if youre curious. heres the timelapse the only issue is that the canvas is too big for my editing program so its crunched down and lost quality but. well. haha.

ignore the typo its embrace not embrase. i dont feel like going back and changing it

[antipathy-arsonist]

i wonder if hank ever feels a sight sense of. resentment at being brought back from the dead yanno?

like yeah maybe the other place is also a desolate hellscape but from the. admittedly little i understand about it (im not. super at picking up all the science fiction-y shit lol) your s3lf like. starts decaying after a while right? until you cease to exist?

i feel they probably do not enjoy being dragged from realm to realm all the time anyway.

every time they wake up from the dead on the cold hard ground outside, or in the magnification chamber, or docs office i think some small itch of irratation and fatigue grows just that small bit larger. and they begin to start forgetting any rational or benevolent reason anyone has for bringing them back until everyone around them seems to be maliciously playing a part in the universes scheme to torment them

woah... edgy

[sketchingdead]

A very late halloween post, but happy halloween everyone!

Pikmin crew...

Ocs by @suga-catt, @twobellsilence, @vivilovespink, @subzerossnowflake, @tetsukuzu1230, and @shadonut !

[yumenosakiacademy]

ajaw fucking kinich in his pseudo-true form [unleashed form seen in kinichs burst] but kinich dies in the process either thru a bite or ajaws claws dug in too hard suddenly or crushed him or bc the dick was simply Too Big for his tiny frame so jus in the middle of sex ajaw inherits kinichs body as per the contract as he absorbs his soul n hes jus like ??????!!!!!! KINICH?? OI??

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Over The Garden Wall but instead of Wirt and Greg it's Grant and Paeden that's it that's all I needed to say thank you

[racmune]

fixer n jumpsuit......... i like them

um can we also talk about that new teaser thing that came out yesterday.... something bad will happen (again) SIGHH.. CANT THEY BE OK. CANT THEY BE HAPPY. WHAT IF MY SFM FUNNY GUYS WERE HAPPY. WHAT THEN

[turnedpalefromlackofsun]

Much emotion

[wayfinderships]

After a long day of being all AFJSBFNDNDN, the thought of just wrapping my arms around Snow and cuddling him is so comforting <3

[iknaenmal]

I was wondering why the hxh guy looked so familiar to me

[a-lonely-dunedain]

12 for Margim & Celeair

12. "help me"

Margim's old habits die hard as it turns out (I think I could've done better with this one, but my brain is deep fried and crispy so Words and Descriptions Do Not Go. I plan to shove all these little prompt fics into an Ao3 fic once I'm done with all of them, so I'll probably clean this one up/flesh it out a bit then.)

There were no casualties for us in the last skirmish with the Dragon-Clan raiders, but still some injuries, and that’s where my work began.

I’ve spent the last few hours in the infirmary with the other two healers patching everyone up. Exhausting but rewarding work, and far less grim for once. There was healing to be done, but no mourning. By the time we were done, no one was in poor enough shape that they would need to stay the night here, so one by one all of our charges were eventually sent home to rest, as were the other two healers. Except for me of course, I offered to stay behind and clean up so they could go to their families. Gathering up bloody rags and discarded vials, making careful notes of what salves and politics had been used so that we could resupply before we ran out, and anything else that needed to be set right. 

Margim often stops by to help me with this, but I have not seen her yet. I imagine she’s celebrating the victory with Elain and her other friends, or has already gone home to rest and is waiting for me there. She looked tired when she returned with the other warriors.

Just then, I hear the door slowly open and soft footsteps approach. It sounds like someone is trying to be quiet, not necessarily trying to hide their presence, but trying not to draw attention to it at least. I look up from what I was doing and see that it’s just Margim. I smile at her "oh, hello Mar!"

“Can you… help me with this?” she asks quietly, although I'm not sure what 'this' is exactly.

“Hm? With wh…” I start to ask, but as she approaches I see the answer and my words seem useless. She moves her cloak aside to reveal a large black stain on her garment, her blood, slowly oozing from a wound on her side.

“You’re hurt!” I exclaim, gently taking her arm and guiding her over to a nearby cot.

“I noticed.” She responds dryly as she sits down, removing her cloak.

“How… How did this happen?” I ask, examining the wound. There is some panic in my voice, although I try to hide it.

“One of the cursed Draig managed to land a blow.” she says bitterly “Only after I caved his skull in, but his dagger found its mark anyway.” This is from the skirmish then, but… that was many hours ago. 

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” I ask in equal parts confusion and worry.

“There were-” she winces as I remove her garment from the cut, I whisper an apology. I’m being as gentle as I can, but the blood has clotted to her clothes and there’s not a way I can do this that won’t sting at least a little. “-There were others more hurt. I would rather not take your attention away from them.”

“There was plenty to go around,” I take a nearby bowl of clean water and carefully start to clean the cut with a cloth, “and I would rather have tended to this sooner… What if it was-”

“If it was more serious I would have had no choice but to come earlier. But the cut was not deep, it could wait.” her tone is strangely defensive.

My brow furrows. Maybe the cut was not deep, but it was still in a place where any injury would be cause for great concern. She’s still bleeding, and ideally, she would not be.

“-really, it hardly even hurt!” she insists

My frown only deepens, it clearly hurts a great deal. Margim sees that I’m not buying the act and lets out a defeated sigh. “...I’m not a very good liar, am I?”

“Not to me, no.” 

I’m nearly done dressing the cut. Luckily she was right that it was not deep, there’s little else I need to do to it, but I am still troubled by the fact that she waited hours before letting anyone see to it. It was not severe this time, but the concerning thought of her trying to hide a more serious injury –and the damage that could be done by that– is still in the forefront of my mind.

“So… why did you hide it then?” I ask quietly.

Margim’s averts her gaze “I… did not wish for the others to see.”

There would have been no shame in it, letting the others know she was hurt, for the other warriors were even bragging about their own wounds when I saw to them. The Caru-Lûth consider scars earned in defense of their land to be a badge of honor, as proof of what they endured for the sake of love and loyalty. The numerous battle-scars Margim already bears were part of the reason they so eagerly accepted her among their ranks, as they seemed visible proof of her strength and devotion. I know Margim would not see the scars from her time in Mordor that way, but whether or not she agreed with their assessment did not change the fact that they respected her for them.

None of them, least of all those who had fought alongside her, would ever think of her as weak for something like this.

“I do not think they would have thought any less of you for it.” I try to assure.

“That’s not what I was afraid of… I… do not know what I was afraid of.” she mutters haltingly, barely loud enough for me to hear. She seems to be looking away at something that isn’t there. “...It's a force of habit, I suppose.”

Ah, that makes more sense then. It was not a fear of shame that caused her to hide the wound, but an instinct carried over from Mordor, where showing any physical weakness would only paint a target on her back.

“You have nothing to fear here.” I say gently as I finish with the bandages, although I do not know if my words will do much to help. It’s not an easy thing for her to unlearn, not when it was fear that kept her alive for so long.

“I know it… but sometimes I think my heart does not believe it. We are not always on the same page.” she mutters slowly

“I understand. Well, a little bit, at least. If there is anything I can do to help, please, let me know.”

“You have already helped a great deal, there is nothing more I would ask of you.” she sighs “I think I would just like to go home and sleep.” she pauses, a somewhat regretful expression on her face "and... I'm sorry to have bothered you with all this."

"It's not a bother to me at all! I'm just glad I you're alright now."