#the river below

[its-haughty]

hey. are you guys also super obsessed with zagreus' blood symbolism. Cuz i sure am!

[khruschevshoe]

The Haunting of Amy Pond

Amy Pond, Doctor Who | aletterinthenameofsanity, there are lessons in life no one should have to learn (pretty little things wilt away)

(In which I read @aletterinthenameofsanity's Amy Pond character study and I just had to pull out my favorite lines and put them to images from the show because the imagery kicked me in the nuts.)

[fanofspooky]

Scream King - Bruce Greenwood

[once-upon-a-time-a-crow]

Feel free to nominate more! 🎨 ✨

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

River Below 8

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, bullying, illnes, and other possible triggers. Warnings are not exhaustive and will not include plot devices/elements.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Life in the Banks is tough but one man can make it worse.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Note: Slight change in the monday plans.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖

You shudder in the dirt, dry heaving as you try to see straight. You don’t know if it’s whatever he gave you or what he’s just done but you feel sick. Your stomach squeezes cruelly as your shoulders rack. You roll your eyes up as heat tingles behind them. Don’t. You’re not a child, don’t cry.

“Get your ass up, shrimp girl,” Rafe kicks you with the toe of his sandal, “what’re you doin’ down there in the dirt?”

You drag your hand away from the puddle of spit and cum. You tremble as you brace your legs and search for an ounce of strength. You try to stand and he huffs impatiently. He grabs your arm and hauls you up, making you stagger.

“Still actin’ shy when I just had my dick down your throat,” he scoffs, “come on.”

He turns you down the path and shoves you ahead of him. You stumble and find your balance. You look around, uncertain. He scoops up your bag and follows you, letting it dangle close to the ground.

“Where–”

“I wanna see that shit shack you share with the whale,” he taunts, “whatever little mouse hole you crawl outta each day.”

“Sir,” you sniff and hug yourself, “please, my mama–”

“You keep your mouth shut and she won’t even know I’m there,” he snarls. “Keep movin’ before I find a new hole.”

You lower your head and keep on. The humiliation erupts into your chest, your heart beating loud behind your ears. You don’t want your mama to know he’s bothering you, she’d worry. The thought that he might hurt her makes you stop short of the tree line.

“Hey,” he collides with you from behind, “what’re ya doing?”

“I… are you going to hurt her?”

He snorts and hurls your bag into the dirt, “take your shit and keep goin’. I don’t got time to be hunting for blubber.”

You take your bag from the ground and he follows you onto the porch. You glance back at him uncertain as you pull back the screen door. He catches it behind you, looming close as you twist the handle of the peeling front door.

You’re embarrassed as you lead him inside. It’s a small place, old, not in the best shape. You’ve seen where he lives, the Cameron place with its column and white wash. A sparkling pool that’s the envy of even the kookiest in the banks.

“Least there’s a roof,” he kids in a low grumble.

“Honey, that you?” Your mama calls from her bedroom.

Your eyes widen and you turn to face Rafe. You try to shake away the fuzziness behind your nose. You blink heavily, squeezing your eyes shut several times. You don’t know why he’s come here. He’s had his fun.

“Please,” you beg.

He smirks and puts his finger to his lips, a gesture that promises silence. You know better than to trust him. He angles his hand to point down the hall as your mama calls again.

You stare at him as you back away. Finally, you turn down the hall and rush down to your mama’s room. You hear Rafe’s weight creak in the floor but the blare of the television gives you hope that she doesn’t.

“Sorry, mama, I was just gettin’ in the door,” your voice quavers thinly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything from the shop today. Fryers were still heatin’ when I left.”

“That’s alright, baby,” she rubs her large stomach, “I’m not feelin’ too good.”

“Oh? Can I get you some water or something?”

“I think I’m good. I took some Tums,” she groans, “you wanna watch somethin’.”

“I…” you peek back down the hall, “I’m gonna get some cleaning done but maybe later.”

“Ah, okay, honey,” she lets her disappointment show, “I just been lonely is all.”

“I know, mama, but it shouldn’t take me long.”

She acquiesces with a grumble. You feel bad for lying but you can’t let her know that you brought Rafe home. She’d freak out.

You pull her door shut behind you, leaving it open only an inch. You go to hurry back down the hall but nearly shriek as Rafe pokes his head out your bedroom door. You quickly wave him inside. You put your bag by the wall as you step in after him.

“What’re you do–”

“Don’t be asking me questions,” he warns as he turns to the table of chipped figurines, “how’s the old cow? Still grazin’?”

“Please,” you squeak as you ease your bedroom door shut, terrified she’ll overhear. “She doesn’t know you’re here. She’d be so upset–”

“Yeah, yeah, mama doesn’t want anyone to see the inside of the barn, got it,” he picks up the pig with the bow around its neck, “this supposed to be her.”

You pout as your eyes flood. Why is he so mean? Your blood surges and you feel a jitter in your muscles. You start to pace as he calmly peruses your space. You chew your thumb as you stand by the window and watch him. You want him to go but if you say as much, you know he’ll only stay longer.

He turns and struts up to the bed. He gives a thoughtful gaze to the patchwork quilt. He tilts his head and clicks his tongue. He bends to touch it and pushes down on the mattress.

“Take your clothes off,” he says without looking up.

You jolt, a squeak escaping you in surprise. You can’t believe he’s said that. The concept makes your bones rattle.

“What?” You bring your hands to your throat as if you’re choking.

“You hear me, pogue,” he stands straight and puts his hands on his hips.

You hesitate and clutch the collar of your uniform shirt. He can’t mean that. You already…

“You do what I say when I say or I’ll make sure your mama hears every single thing I do to you. We both know she won’t be able to drag her lard far enough to stop me.”

You clasp your hands tight and teeter on your feet. Naked. In front of him. You never… before him, you never even saw a man’s… parts. A new wave of nausea brews as you think of what you’ve done.

You wince as suddenly he’s stomping towards you. You put your hands up to shield yourself as he grabs the front of your shirt. You hush him as you glance at the wall nervously. She’s going to hear him!

“Get this off,” he snarls and tugs your hem up. 

You hold back a yelp as he tears the fabric higher, forcing your arms up as he rips it roughly over your head. He whips the shirt away and stands back on his heel. He tilts his head until his neck cracks. You hug your bare stomach and look down at your bra.

“Shit, I need…” his voice trails off as he marches around the tight space. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little bag of powder. “Get fucking naked,” sprinkles some onto the narrow desk as he faces away from you, “I swear, by the time I’m done…”

He reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet. You spin away from him and stare at the bed. You want to scream and shriek and cry and run away. You peek over your shoulder as you rub your arms.

“If you’re not worried about what I’ll do to you, you should thinka what I’ll do to your mama if you don’t fucking listen!” He snaps as he taps a card on the table. “Make me tell you again, Pogue.”

You don’t doubt him. You know he’ll do it. You couldn’t let your mother go through the same humiliation. It’s hard enough for her. People are so cruel to her, they just see how big she is and think she must be lazy and horrible. She’s your mama and she’s the nicest person you’ve ever known. She’s done so much for you, you can do this for her.

You bend down to slip out of your shoes and socks. Your hands shake as your blood courses hot and cold. You feel hollow, almost like you’re outside your own body. You stand straight and undo the top of your fly. It’s not supposed to be like this, this isn’t what the movies show.

You pull down your pants and step out of them. Your fingers are clumsy as you struggle with the back of your bra. You can’t latch onto it. Your body is beyond your control. Finally you get a grip and free the hooks. The fabric slackens and you fold your arms across your chest before slowly dragging it away.

You drop it to the floor. Just one more piece. You put your hands against your stomach, just above the trim of your panties.

You squeak as Rafe comes up behind you and bunches the sides of your panties. He tears them down, jolting you violently as he sniffs loudly. He shoves your panties to your ankles and nudges you forward. He coughs and clears his throat.

“Lay down,” he hacks and chokes on his own spit. 

He prowls along the bottom of the bed as you climb onto the mattress. You crawl to the top and turn to sit on your butt, bending your legs to hide behind. He huffs and shakes his head, shoving a finger into his mouth and tearing it out again.

“I said on you’re fucking back,” he growls as he grips the top of his shorts.

Your throat constricts as your fingers curl. Your nails dig into your palms as you move to lay flat. The humid air feels chilly on your skin. Fabric rustles as he looms closer and the bottom of the mattress dips.

Rafe jostles you as he gets on the bed, walking on his knees as you lay staring at the ceiling. He pushes your legs apart and moves between them. He pinches your thigh meanly as he sits back on his legs, fumbling below your vision.

His arm pumps as he puffs out through his nose. He grunts and groans, cursing under his breath. Your hands stay balled at your sides as you focus on the bubbling white paint of the ceiling. The bed shakes with his furious motion.

“Fuck,” he grits out, “pogue pussy don’t look too bad.”

You twitch as he swipes his fingers along your cunt. You’re just a shell, you can’t feel it, don’t feel it. He toys with you, scratching you as he rubs harder and harder. He swears again and rips his hand back.

You look down, just for a moment as he cradles his balls, still pumping himself. He’s soft. His tip flops as he tries to work himself up. Another fiery tide washes over you. Shouldn’t it be hard by now?

You flick your eyes back up and the bed lurches. You bounce as his weight shifts back heavily and you hear a slap. He shoves your leg away and retreats. You don’t move a single finger the bed jolts at the sudden release of springs.

“Close your fucking legs,” he barks as he paces around, “fuck. Fuck!”

“Please, don’t…” you sit up and cover yourself with a pillow, “you’re being too loud.”

“Don’t tell me what I am,” he snarls as he zips up his shorts. “Shut the fuck up.”

He goes back to the desk and bends over. He sniffs again and sweeps off the wood with his hand as he straightens. He pinches his nose and wiggles his. He snorts and coughs once more.

“Dumb fucking pogue,” he mutters, “you’re fucking fault… laying there like a goddamn plank of wood…” he comes towards the bed and you squeeze the pillow tight as you cower, “what the fuck is wrong with you? Ain’t even wet.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Enough!” He turns his hand flat to punctuate his order, “little fucking bitch.”

He waves his hand at you dismissively and heads for the door. You just sit and watch him, paralysed as your worst fears trail after him. You hold your breath as he turns away from your mama’s room and shortly after, you hear the front door clatter. He’s gone but you know not for good.

[firep0wder]

The Starry Night, Vincent Van Gogh//Hermitcraft 9: a minute to reflect, Joe Hills//Hermitcraft Season 8 Finale Animation - How Far We've Come, Chrisrin//The Starry Night, Wikipedia page//Hermitcraft VIII 1035 Final Impact, Xisumavoid////Hermitcraft S8: I Joined Hermitcraft! | Episode 1, PearlescentMoon//HermitCraft 8 ep 20 - End Times With Scar!, Joe Hills

[valfeathers]

blue

[the-starry-lycan]

Subnautica Headcanons 04

The reason Sea Dragon Leviathans live so exclusively in the Lava Zones is because their bodies are so large that they require an incredible amount of underwater pressure to keep themselves from falling apart (and also because their eggs need to be kept very warm to be incubated properly).

If a Sea Dragon Leviathan were to roam to the upper zones (Lost River and above) for too long, they'd die from depressurization, the way some deep-sea animals do when brought up.

Reaper Leviathans, however, have bodies dense enough that they can enter deeper pressure zones for some time - and they certainly do this, given they have competition for food from other Reapers, as well as the Ghosties.

So.. some of them will venture the Lost River in hopes of finding more prey in the form of Crabsquids and River Prowlers. Which, overall.. makes them an easy, nutritious target for hungry Sea Dragons who sometimes find them at these more comfortable depths.

Sea Dragons will also prey on very young Ghost Leviathans that are foolish enough to enter the Lava Zones to sate their appetites.. but leave the more grown ones alone since they're too tough to consume, and don't want to incur the wrath of these pack predators. The reason no remains of Ghost Leviathans are found is because they have no true skeleton - and Sea Dragons will eat every part of this leviathan.

[shewhoeatssand]

I want to befriend Kaneki and meet with him and email him forever

[aroaessidhe]

read in 2023: adult fantasy part 2

okay this is like like adult fantasy honorary mentions - either that I really liked just not quite enough to go on my faves post, or I loved some aspects of it but not others, kinda thing.

The Scarlet Throne

The Sword of Kaigen

The Gods Below

Smile and be a Villain

Long Live Evil

Asunder

Shigidi and the Brass Head of Obalufon

Goddess of the River

The Once and Future Witches

[doktorvelociraptor]

Games are fun actually

[khruschevshoe]

You know what really gets me about Eleven’s run? Is that it starts off with an amazing thesis statement in the Beast Below which I think sums up the Doctor as a character more than any other line ever has. "What if you were really old, and really kind, and the last of your kind?...All of that pain and misery and loneliness, and it just made it kind."

Yes, sometimes the Doctor needs to be reminded of that fact, as when Amy has Liz 10 hit the abdication button, but the Doctor is kind. He is the man that cheered that "just this once, everyone lives" and was a "coward not killer anyday" and flung away a gun and even after the Time Lord Victorious arc, died to save a single man from dying from radiation. The Doctor and his companions bring out the worst in each other, yes, but they also bring out the best.

And then comes along The Girl Who Waited and the God Complex, which are just an extension of Let's Kill Hitler and eventually Angels Take Manhattan, which are all about how the Doctor takes people as companions because he needs someone to worship him, that he can't bear to see them age and would rather see them young and beautiful, that he is vain, that he is cruel, that he is a god, and I get that interpretation but at the end of the day, the Doctor has never been about vanity or worship or needing someone to keep him in check.

Because yes, companions have reminded him the importance of being kind as part of what is "necessary." The importance of having hope. But it's just that: a reminder. The Doctor is unlike the Master and unlike the rest of the Time Lords because he is compassionate. Because he hates to see children cry. Because he is a coward who is nonetheless brave enough to keep caring, over and over again, no matter how many people die in front of him, no matter how many times he loses those he loves, because the Doctor is a love story as much as it is a ghost story at the end of the day.

And it kills me that the main themes/character arcs of Eleven’s era boil down the Doctor to someone who is not that. Someone who, as the Power of Three ending/Angels Take Manhattan imply, had to have the Ponds to keep him in check. That he could not let them go, could not respect them and their choices like Ten did with Martha. That an entire religion formed itself, kidnapping a child and making her into an assassin, just to stop him from ruining the universe, because he is a god more than a man. That he is a god just like the minotaur, feeding off of people's faith in him, taking children and companions so that he can be nourished, so that he can feel important.

Because even at the Doctor's worst in the Time Lord Victorious Arc, it has never been about worship. It was about grief and loss and love and compassion, because the Doctor has two hearts because he has too much love to fill just one, because that is the kind of person that the Doctor is.

All of that pain and misery and loneliness, and it just made him kind.

[sillymarillly]

Today october 24,2024 - the campaign is 😭

215$/55,000$

Hello dear! Iam Nuha from Gaza-Palestine. Thank you for looking at us with compassion and I ask you to support my campaign to help me achieve my goal. I am in dire need of your support now to help my family survive and be safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place both in terms of living and life. I need your financial support to enable me to get the basic needs for my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help a family survive through 🙏🌹

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #157 )

.

[salineroses-two-point-oh]

‏I am mohammed Ayyad, I am 17 years old, high school student, I have 7 brothers, including 4 girls and 3 boys and my mother.

‏Since the beginning of the war, my family and I have been displaced 4 times, each time more severe than the other.

‏The first is from Gaza City to Khan Yunis, and the second is from Khan Yunis to the shores of Bahr Khan Yunis, then to the city of Rafah, and then to an area called Al Qarara .

‏My house was completely destroyed , everything is under the rubble my childhood, my memories, my books, and my ambition and Many relatives and friends were killed and life was completely destroyed.

‏ so l please you to help me and help my family collect donations to evacuation the war zone, get out of Gaza safely, and complete my school studies, via my donation link.

‏‎

hoping you and your family get the resources that you need ❤️🖤🤍💚

[nhi-theuserof-this]

I think that watching episode 52 of ninjago activated a whump neuron as a child because I can specifically remember just rewatching that episode all the time specifically to see the scene at the end where lloyd is just going though it and almost fucking drowns