#such complicated weapons

[4rt1f1c14l]

⸸ My friend's ffxiv character ⸸

[sweeneydino]

When it becomes part of them (Timeline)

Attempting to replicate the shows storyboards.

Technically their mystics pop up sporadically in season 1, until Leo in showdown. Then the others in season 2. Once they do, its a matter of time to master it, with some bumps in the road ofc.

Look at the little anime protagonists

And then the ending of season 2 comes along-

Edited with more 2003 markings 👆 (might keep it)

[agentfascinateur]

Israel violating 1979 Peace Accord and slanders now Egypt

The corridor is part of a larger demilitarized zone along the entire Israel-Egypt border. Under the peace accord, each side is allowed to deploy only a small number of troops or border guards in the zone, though those numbers can be modified by mutual agreement. At the time of the accord, Israeli troops controlled Gaza, until Israel withdrew its forces and settlers in 2005.

Tunnels! Like the non-existing ones of Al Shifa Hospital where instead very real mass graves were found once Israeli forces evacuated...

[kaereth]

Ruby Rose from RWBY teamed up with Pyra from Xenoblade 2 for a kofi request!

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

broke: haru hates akechi and doesn't talk to him ever again after he comes back

woke: haru chooses to be kind without forgiveness and akechi doesn't know how to live with her genuine compassion because it'd be so much easier if she hated him instead

[ladystoneboobs]

"Tears," she[Cersei] said scornfully to Sansa as the woman was led from the hall. "The woman's weapon, my lady mother used to call them. [...]" -Sansa VI, aCoK

would love to know the context of joanna saying this to(/within earshot of?) cersei, who was 7yo at maximum. interesting parenting choice to want your very young daughter to be a better manipulator, instead of just treating crying as an honest expression of emotion.

[short-wooloo]

The sith are not an oppressed culture forced underground by the Jedi

They're a deranged cult devoted to creating tyranny which they rule, murdering anyone they deem an enemy, and selfishly indulging in their wants no matter what it costs everyone else

Them being in hiding was their choice, they're a conspiracy, a shadow hiding within the society they are deliberately trying to destroy/warp into their image

[ruushes]

there are so many creative ways to approach any given situation in bg3 and i remain staunchly ignorant of all of them and do the most obvious thing possible every time. i got an achievement for beating grym without using the forge hammer and was like oh that would've been really clever, wish i'd thought of that instead of standing around it in a circle beating it with clubs until it died

[recent-rose]

yknowwww there is something... deeply uncomfortable about the way mel never speaks directly to viktor in the 'build hextech weapons' scene. she really only speaks to jayce. plenty of people have pointed this out already but like the one scene they actually share a meaningful interaction and she treats him like he's beneath her. all this after jayce has emphasized how important viktor is, that hextech is theirs, together. she unequivocally ices him out, there's no other way to interpret this scene. the way it's shot too - from viktor's perspective, looking up at her, as though to reinforce the same belief in him. like he doesn't even bother expecting respect from her - or anyone from the upper echelon of piltover. he's fully accustomed to being dehumanized by everyone around him at this point. sometimes even by jayce, despite the trust they clearly have in each other.

then of course after this scene is viktor experimenting on himself. it's pretty clear that he has internalized his own dehumanization. crazy.

[error-soup]

dear kamonwan dndads farnsworth,

please stay in the story as long as possible

thank you

[deconstructthesoup]

I just realized that Evsam and Huntlow have the exact same fucking vibes

[zero-aves]

Splatsteal au has taken over my brain lol, expect more art (and refs) throughout the week ¤3

Individual versions below ¤D

[mewkwota]

I think a part of why I find Hub so cool is how he seems to be one that won't hold back in a fight. These sketches don't even scratch the surface on what I mean, but he has this certain feel on the battlefield.

(. . . Hey Mew, I think the word you're looking for is "violent".)

Whatever the case, I wanted to draw more battle scenes with him.

[agentfascinateur]

The Rafah coverup preparations:

Getting rid of the witnesses..."democratic" "allies", undemocratic accomplices.

[forwhump]

Isolation

a/n; idek what to say sorry I keep posting :(( love you tho :*<3

tw/cw: grievous bodily harm, skinning, meat hooks, graphic mentions of noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, forced imprisonment

living weapon whumpee, baseless torture, inhumane cruelty

When the fluorescent lights finally flicker to life above his head, Silas has been kneeling in the dark for three days.

His arms are splayed, shackled to the walls on either side of him, pulled so tightly that any strain at all would dislocate both his shoulders. Both his knees had been broken, and bone has bitten clean through the flesh above his amputated calf. His chest, his back, his sides, just beneath his ribcage, his armpits, some of his most sensitive meat has been gored with crude meat hooks and restraints that have been woven through his flesh. He pulls at them every time he inhales and sometimes, in the silence, the way his skin rips is an audible sound.

He’s bled and it’s dried and he’s bled and it’s dried and his skin is crusted over with layers of it.

After two days, the lights finally flicker to life. Outside, there’s the technical chirp of a keycard being swiped and a thumbprint being accepted. The door grinds open.

As he saunters into the cell, Point pulls his mask down to his throat to grin widely at Silas.

Silas scowls at him as best he can, but he’s been gagged. They didn’t trust him not to bite. They were right not to.

“How’s it going, big guy?” He grins.

People have been calling Silas big guy since he’d woken up in this place but he’d always liked it the least from Point. It’s always felt the most demeaning.

He narrows his eyes.

Point grins a little wider. He walks slowly, casually, as he crosses the room, coming to sit on the floor a few feet from Silas. Close enough to be smug, but still outside reaching distance. Bastard.

“You got yourself into pretty big shit this time, hey?” He asks.

Silas wants to kill Point more than he wants to kill any of them. He’ll make it especially slow — he’ll draw it out over days. He’ll wait until Point is begging to be put out of his misery, and he won’t. He’ll only put him down once he’s bored of his blood.

Clicking his tongue, Point shakes his head at him, mock disappointed. “What did you think was going to happen?” He asks. “I knew you were stupid, but I thought you were smarter than this. If you behave like an animal, you’re going to get treated like one.”

Trying, Silas pulls at one of his hands and pain ripples through his shoulder and all the way down his side. The metal pierced through his meat pulls at him sharply and blood bubbles up and over the opened lip in his flesh.

It trickles down his side, hot against his cool, crusted skin.

“You were a very bad dog, Silas.”

Behind his gag, Silas sneers. The way he craves Point’s blood is frantic.

Point smirks. “We haven’t decided yet if it’ll ever be safe to let you return to the unit,” he tells him, “but there’s a chance we’ll take the risk. The girl,” and he smirks a little wider, “has been deemed a liability. She has been a distraction to you and that makes danger for us, so she will not be there once you are allowed back. She has been removed. I thought you’d like to know.”

Silas doesn’t realize he’s pulling at his restraints again until the flesh at his back tears open wider and he doesn’t feel so much that he’s bleeding as much as his back almost instantly feels wet.

“I’ve told you before, Silas,” Point says, gleeful, “we usually put down dogs once they start to bite. You’re lucky you’re so…valuable.”

Silas pulls his lip back from his teeth as best he can.

Point grins at him. “And you’re lucky,” he says, “that we have such a soft spot for that girl. She’s caused the deaths of many of our men. Inciting violence in a place like this is almost always grounds for execution. But we couldn’t, in our right minds, let such a tight, pretty thing go to waste. Rest assured, big guy,” he says, and leans a little closer as he grins a little wider. “She’s in good hands.”

Silas lurches closer, leans all his weight into his arms, tries to wrench his shackles clean out of the walls. He can’t do it, and he bellows behind the gag as he tears free of the meat hooks at his back and strips of his skin hang down around his waistband in ribbons of gore and tissue.

“You’re a very possessive dog, aren’t you?” Point asks him, clucking his tongue again. “But not a very good guard dog at all. Look at you. You tried, and look what it got you.”

Silas sneers.

Point reaches out to pat his cheek, but he pulls his hand back quickly when Silas turns his head. He can’t bite around the gag, but he tries, anyway.

“Sad for the girl,” Point tells him, “isn’t it? It’s not her fault you’re unwell.”

Silas pulls at his restraints and nothing gives but his flesh.

“But I gotta be honest with you,” he goes on, “this was always my desired outcome. The rest of the faction, too. The girl was never supposed to be here, and she was going to waste in that unit. Her place has always been in the barracks, getting used as fuckmeat.”

Heat explodes in Silas’ chest and he tries to lunge at Point without even really thinking about it. He rips a big chunk of meat out of his armpit, and blood and gore splatter the concrete at his side. He bellows behind his gag.

Point laughs mirthfully. “Down, boy,” he taunts. “You can shred as much of yourself as you’d like. There’s no saving her. We like her too much.”

Silas glares.

Point looks just delighted. “She’s just such a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” He asks, softer, leaning in closer.

Silas sinks his teeth into the gag and bites down so hard his jaw aches in protest.

“And she’s so soft,” he says with a coo, “and she’s so tight, and she’s always so wet. And she makes the prettiest little noises.”

Silas snarls behind the gag, and he sounds like an animal.

“And she cries,” Point croons at him, “and she begs us to stop. I think she’s always prettiest when she’s begging me to stop.”

Silas pours all of his strength and adrenaline into his arms and does everything he can to rip those shackles out of the wall.

He riffs at the meat hooks beneath his ribcage, and peels all of the skin away from his left side.

It’s the coldest he’s ever been and it hurts so deeply that Silas couldn’t describe the pain if he knew the words.

He cries out behind the gag, and Point grins.

He claps his hands against his thighs as he stands.

He grins again as he swings his boot into the side of Silas’ face and knocks out his back two molars.

Blood fills Silas’ mouth but he’s gagged and it tries its best to choke him, pooling in his airways. He gurgles. When Point finally peels away the gag he sprays blood like a broken faucet.

“You should’ve been a good dog,” Point tells him, and he cracks his fist into Silas’ eye socket.

It cracks, and lightning strikes through Silas’ skull.

He tips his chin back quickly and sprays blood into Point’s face. Point recoils, and Silas spits, “fuck you.”

“Fuck you, big guy,” Point scoffs, wiping blood from his eyes. “Nobody likes a dog that bites.”

“Keep. Your. Fuckin’. Hands. Off of him,” Silas seethes.

It only makes Point grin again. “Off of her?” He repeats. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with the parts of me that’ll be inside her.”

Silas tries again to lunge and rips out the back of his neck with a meat hook.

The pain ripples all the way down his spine and Silas roars.

Point chuckles, fishing a rag from his pocket to wipe down his hands as he starts to saunter again back towards the door. Next to it is a panel, a keypad, and he punches in a quick code, nine digits. He swipes his keycard. He presses his thumbprint.

He looks at Silas again over his shoulder before he leaves, and he winks.

The door closes behind him, and silence lapses throughout his cell again. The lights flicker off, and Silas is alone, bleeding in the dark. Helpless and useless.

He tips his head back towards the ceiling and roars himself hoarse.

[tethered-heartstrings]

my birth name is hot sand in my mouth. the way it collects at the base of my tongue, eroding my voice, lingering in permanency no matter how hard I try to swallow it down. I pretend not to feel it scrape and burn, wounds now as much a part of me as the syllables themselves. how it doesn't quite sting to hear but saying it cracks teeth and abrases my throat. is this what lying feels like?