#IL missing

[undergroundmysteries]

Amber Motsch / Pierce, Unreported Missing Person From Chicago, IL Since 2002

Amber Motsch Pierce is an unreported missing person who was last seen in Chicago, Illinois in December of 2002 when she was 21 years old. Please click the headline to read the full article on her disappearance.

September 7, 2024 — Underground MysteriesAmber Motsch went missing in Chicago, Illinois on or around December 17, 2002 when she was 21 years old. She is considered an unreported missing person at the time I am writing this, as she does not have a police report on her disappearance, nor is she in the NamUs database. I added her case to my database for unreported underrepresented missing people. …

[sillykawa]

Been thinking about Capitano all week.... so

Imagine a young Capitano before the fall of Khaenri’ah. With a wife and child—a little girl. The two most precious ppl in his life and he couldn't save them. Their death breaks him, the source of his hatred, because what did they ever do to deserve such a cruel fate. He longs to join them but death is something he cannot have so he carries their souls in his heart.

He wants to give all the fallen warriors a final resting place, but he also longs to see his family. Sometimes, in the sea of voices in his head, he hears his wife—and that’s what gets him through 500 sleepless years, to exact his revenge.

The cutscene where he’s climbing the stairs with all the warriors —at the top, next to the throne of flames, he finally sees his love, his family, waiting for him.

[catscidr]

thinking about dottore being really good at things other than anything related to his freak blasphemous research subjects is objectively hilarious actually

you hand him a wok and he cooks up the best fried rice meal you’ve ever eaten. both super nutritious and delicious. he could probably make banger pastries, too, given how precise you have to be with certain ingredients’ measurements and he’s anything if not meticulous with his work — surely that skill would transfer to the mundane……

when he actually gets to go home and has to do normal household chores like a normal adult you can bet your ass his clothes are folded perfectly. towels are neatly organized, probably sorted by size, colour and use. (you reach for a towel to dry your hands with and he quickly hands you a different one because those towels are for drying the dishes, actually)

maybe he’s also ridiculously gifted at art without needing to practice. while pestering him in his office you suggest you draw each other for fun (and to have a guffaw a gaff and a gag at the monstrosity he’ll surely cook up) and he hands you a sketch portrait of you that looks like you should hand him a hundred dollar bill for even glancing at it

..or maybe he’s a boyfailure loser and his place is such a mess that he needs multiple cleaning crews over to clean the mess that he somehow creates even when he isn’t home and can’t draw stick figures and straight lines for shit even with his steady science man hands.

funniest character in the game, really

[whimsyxmaliah]

This, but it's toxic old man yaoi with Squid Gays

(Sorry for the bad doodle! I haven't drawn in a while)

[polar-swirl]

oh captain,

[horrorsboyfrie]

Loser!Zandik being crushed on by Popular!Reader

(masc terms on reader+ it's the typical corny social butterfly × weirdo shit, queer edition, honestly + Zandik displays traits of autism + a little murderous♡)

Zandik, as per usual, was spending the night's time in the library. It was quiet, for the most part. While a lot of his fellow peers were focused on finding answers for their own satisfaction, even those who viewed their values and research to be above everyone else's had someone to keep them company; for that reason, they often chose to borrow the necessary books and study in their respective dorms, or the dorms of their friends. Some did indeed prefer the setup of the library's sections and desks, but even so, the peaceful atmosphere was not interrupted by them.

Zandik sat on a table at the very ends of the room. He had a pile of books to his right; some half opened, and others neatly stack on top of each other. He had his notebook and pens nearby, taking notes of anything he deemed crucial knowledge for his personal projects.

Not long had he been entangled in his theories when a specific group of students decided to make an appearance. They could be heard from miles away— and it just so happened that they chose to sit on a table to his right. Malicious intent, no doubt. These people tended to act as if Zandik was some foreign species to be studied; as if he was a sort of a subject that needed constant supervision.

Of any day to endure the constant speculations and disgusted or concerned expressions towards him, today was not the right one. Nothing too horrific had happened to him, not something that would matter to an average person, at least. It's just that he slept wrong, causing him to wake up with slight neck pain, which played a role in worsening his already short temper, which in turn made his sensory issues towards his clothes, especially his socks, far more insufferable than they had to be. He was one unexpected move away from having a meltdown.

Yet again, he managed to ignore the obnoxiously loud 《whispers》 that sprouted out of those filthy rat-filled mouths of theirs, as Zandik's already-overwhelmed mind decided to call them.

Unfortunately for him, the multiple different voices started chanting even more nonsense as you walked towards the table— he could see that you were dreading it. Was everyone so damn bothered by his existence? You were known to be such a sweetheart— contrast to majority of boys there— by those who've interacted with you, but to be fair, none had a reputation quite like Zandik's, so it's no wonder you resented him, as everyone else did.

"Why'd we have to sit here?" he heard you emphasize. He looked your way; he could see the grins on the faces of your friends, the way they seemed to be picking on someone, hushed whispers, mentioning his name time after time, as if he wasn't barely three chairs away. Gods, his patience was running thin.

"Can we just switch seats?" He listened as you practically begged your friend, who was sitting on the complete opposite end of the table. As much as he may have claimed (to himself, seeing as he had none to actually confide in) not be a man driven by emotion, his worse sensory days were tempt to be a catastrophe in every way possible. He left soon after he heard those mumbles; he was too sensitive for his own good, even if he dismissed that fragile soul of his with walls of anger and apathy.

Your friends seemed to notice before you, the fact that he was no longer in the room. All you got was endless teasing about how you've missed your chance or about the fact that you probably 《intimidated》 him. Bullshit, no? You sighed as the group split up again, each going ahead to do their own thing. The only true reason they decided to meet up here was to force you into talking to him. That did not quite work out, it seems.

You hurried to leave as well, when you noticed a small pen on the ground. That must be his; you always see him writing with that specific shade of blue. It's not like nobody else in the whole Akademiya owned the same one, but he was sitting on the table you found it under. You decided to hold on to it. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to finally have a conversation with the guy!

On your way back to the dorms, you noticed him nearing his own room. Maybe now's the time to return him his belongings— especially considering how he seemed to be searching his pockets. His face was indifferent when he realized he didn't have the pen on him, but his hands were trermbling; a hint of anxiety perhaps? One could only speculate. You decided to leave him on his own. He probably wasn't up for company or conversation anyway.

The following few days weren't quite like you expected. Usually, you'd manage to get at least a glance your way by him; laughing at stupid jokes, bumping into people or objects that you could have easily avoided, accidentally saying things a bit too loud. Nothing worked this time. It's as if he purposefully was avoiding you; a fact that got confirmed after you tried walking towards him. He saw you—he made sure you saw his look, he held it for a couple of seconds— and then he walked away. Fuck, there's no way this guy wants anything to do with you.

Weeks later, you had grown to forget ever owning that pen of his; actually, you started using it for yourself. If you can't give it back, then why not use it for yourself?

Zandik, despite trying his hardest to keep his stares away from you and your friends (and pretty much everyone else in that damned building), couldn't help but notice that his long-gone favorite pen is under your possession.

After the very last class of the day, he decided to give you a visit; your fate had been decided by him already. He's done what he's done in the Eleazar hospital and got away with it. It wouldn't be hard to add another body into the endless pile of disappearances; he knew how to keep suspicion off his shoulders.

Perhaps it was a bit too far. He was letting his rage get the better of him; but gods, he really hadn't felt at ease writing with anything else. "His death would make no logical sense to my goals," he sighed as he reminded himself. "What sort of researcher puts his emotions above his values?" He groaned— frustrated both at himself for considering such a solution to his problems, and at the situation itself.

Times like these, he'd go to his special place to sit and think; it was a big tree, near a lake. Children would often talk about their encounters with the Aranara there. At first, he only ever visited that place so he could find one creature and take it for himself, but he grew quite comfortable being there.

He grabbed the opportunity by its hand once he spotted you all alone; sitting with your back against that very same tree that he favored. As if you had a seventh sense, you turned around to see him. He wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with a smile. It caught him off guard; why were you, of all people, showing any form of sympathy for him?

"I was hoping you'd be here" you said, handing him the pen that he has been desperately trying to get a hold of again.

[gihunloversunite]

One of my favourite guys who has also played these games before

[weirdasshomo]

the moment i got Charons keepsake n saw this my delulu ass went straight back to charmes train

like H STANDS FOR HERMES!!! CHANGE MY MIND CHALLENGE (IMPOSSIBLE!!)

[iwant-fuitgummi]

i miss his stupid ass

[jaysavex]

snack

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Can we just talk about the choice to use calla lilies in this scene please!!!

They are a symbol of love and commitment and red ones specifically mean ‘I am yours’ and courage, boldness and determination. In Roman mythology the calla lily was a symbol of sexuality because of its phallic appearance and the Victorian’s associate the calla lily with magnificence!

[gayofthefae]

This shot being in the show is wild.

[noecoded]

tryingto understand the appeal .does anyone remember when asmo said he enjoyed boxing

[polar-swirl]

sentinel knight.

[uderzhimenya]

Benedetta Porcaroli as Concetta Corbera di Salina & Alessandro Sperduti as il conte Bombello il gattopardo 1x05

[oddri-art]

Anatomy practice with Franco! (Censored pp tho, which is very tragic 😔)