#dayeight

[thegoodenchantress22]

Day 8 - Creator's Choice!!

I admit, I had a heck of a time choosing what I wanted the last picture to be. I'm not the best at coming up with things on the fly sometimes, but I thought that I should finally announce properly that I'm working on a fanfic based off of this prompt I got off tumblr with a title picture I decided to finally draw! (Which, funnily enough, is my working title. Seriously: "Hey Arnold! Fanfic From This Prompt I Got Off Of Tumblr" is the first thing in my doc file.)

Essentially, it's an AU where Helga and Curly become closer friends and all the hijinks that ensue with that. They do NOT become a couple, but they do help bring out the best in each other and help the other with the affections of their crushes, Rhonda and Arnold (who are now noticing Curly and Helga because the two have pranked [most of] PS118 into thinking they're dating).

I don't have many chapters pre-written, I'm unsure where to publish them, and I don't even have a title. But I'm having so much fun writing about these goobers that I feel as though I should publish it on one of the many sites soon... As soon as I have a title! If you have an idea for a title, comment an idea and maybe I'll use it! (And thank you, of course.)

But with that, I have successfully made it through an entire Shortaki Week! On time! It's been an absolutely amazing ride and I enjoyed every moment! Thank you to my new fans! Thank you for all your lovely comments! Thank you other artists who participated! Thank you to Craig who was so awesome to 'like' two of my pictures (at time of writing)! Thank YOU reading this! I had an absolute blast making all this art and I hope to make a lot more soon! Thank you all again!

[bambisnemo]

Day 7 -8

These two days were my definition of perfect.

Day 7 : First day back at school after quarter break.

I read my daily devotion

I did math homework

I took a morning shower

I did a Chloe Ting workout program for that day

I did test prep for Chemistry (I have a Major Unit test in 3 weeks)

I did Duolingo for spanish

I did my chemistry hw

I did a literature study session for our last short story

I reviewed a unit of chemistry during study hall

Day 8:

I practiced a song

I did my daily devotion

I did literature hw

I did the last parts of my chloe ting program (decided to stop the program coz I don't have enough time for it)

I took a shower

Watched a football match at school (Our school's conducting one every Tuesday and the teams have 3 people of different skillsets each)

I did chemistry test prep

Theology hw

Literature test prep (quiz in a couple days)

Did history reading

Spanish conjugations review

Chemistry Hw

Literature Hw

On both days I failed to meet my reading goal but apart from that, I had a pretty good day!!

[just-a-tiny-goldfish]

@fish-daily he was a wild one no one believed in but with the help of a pure hearted little girl—DayEight was able to win the big race and save the farm 🥺🐎

[hicchaninwonderland]

#dayeight of #inktober! The #theme is #toad!

#inktober2023 #inktobertoad #inktoberdayeight #ink #witchy #witchyillustration #witchyillustration #witchaesthetic #witchtober #spooky #spooktober #witchytoad #witchhat #moon

[donttelljim]

Vows

A side-by-side of young Alistair and Cullen, once two temporary templar recruits, taking their vows/Joining at the same time, in different parts of Ferelden. I figured as they’re the same age, and were both training to be templars at the same time...why not contrast their experiences of drinking from their two fateful cups? Lyrium and the Darkspawn taint - both drunk in the name of service, but neither are what the young recruits expect. ⁘ For @chaos-company’s Angstpril 2022, Day 8 - Don’t Lie To Me ⁘ (On AO3 here) ========== In two disparate parts of Ferelden, two templar recruits were looking at their shoes, trying not to throw up as they waited for their names to be called.

Cullen had worked for this his whole life. The white halls of the Grand Chantry echoed with music, the names of each recruit ringing out and mixing proudly with the voices of the choir. The air was thick with incense, holy and sanctified; above him, Andraste towered, the statue’s golden hands raised in supplication to the Maker on behalf of His people, and before him, held by a chantry Mother and flanked by real life Seekers, was the cup. His first drink of lyrium. His transformation, a realization of his boyhood dreams. People from Honnleath rarely got to achieve their dreams like this. He looked up at Andraste as he waited, thanking her for this chance. Alistair barely knew who these people were, besides the legends, but he knew that they were better than the alternative. Or, that had seemed the case until now. The winds of the Hinterlands whipped around the small group, the sky dark and bleak, untouched by stars. Outwards, the coarse, hilly grasslands seemed to stretch on forever, as though their band were the only people left in Ferelden. Nowhere to turn. Below him, at his feet, lay the bodies of his fellow recruits - the ones who had not survived their Joining. Soon, it would be his turn. Was this why they’d sent him…? Duncan, a man he had trusted and loved until about ten minutes ago, stood gravely before him, the cup in his hands. Alistair thought he’d left the templars to escape all this. Looking up into the empty sky, he wondered whether this was it: a pointless end to an unwanted, thrown-away life. He’d pray, but everyone knew the Maker wasn’t listening. The young templar stole a glance towards the gathered families, all here to watch their children or siblings take their vows. He spied his parents, brother and sisters, easy to spot by their simple clothes compared to the lords and ladies on every side of them. Stealing his chance when he didn’t think the clerics were watching, he shot them a toothy grin. His sister waved back, then pointed naggingly towards the stage - eyes forward. Smirking, he obeyed. Alistair looked desperately about him, searching for a single sane face amongst the small crowd. This was like some sort of nightmare - the kind where everyone goes absolutely mental, and you’re the only one left with any sense. Another recruit keeled over, frothing at the mouth, black veins running over them. A Warden stepped forwards, checked their pulse, shook their head, and stepped back again. “Are you all insane?! You can’t do this!” How far could he run? Far enough to get behind one of these rises before they shot him down? No… He’d die without honour or dignity, which would prove everyone in his life disappointingly right about him. Death with dignity, then. He tried to keep the tears of betrayal from his eyes. “Rutherford, Cullen Stanton, of House… - apologies. Of Honnleath” Cullen took a shaking breath and stood up straight, ignoring the sniggers from his fellows at the cleric’s mistake. He didn’t care. In a few minutes, he would be Ser Cullen, the same as any of them. But he didn’t want this for status - he wanted this for the same reason Templars enthralled him as a child. He remembered them passing through his village, with their gleaming swords and grand armour, but unlike the armies of Redcliff, they had been kind. Polite, courteous. They treated the people he grew up with like they mattered. That was a Knight. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be good. He stepped forwards, feeling like he had lightning under his feet. This was it. “Fitz-Guerrin, Alistair.” Great, Alistair thought sullenly. Called to the gallows, and they couldn’t even get his name right. Not that he wanted to be a Theirin in his final moments, so being his uncle’s bastard was as good as anything else, even if it was the lie that got him abandoned out here in the first place. He stepped forwards, feeling like he had a ball and chain on each foot. He might as well, for all the choice he had. He eyed the man who’d refused to drink - stabbed through, by Duncan’s own blade. He made a final appeal to the once kindly-seeming Orlesian. “You know, you could have put this in the pamphlet! What if we don’t drink? Can we just become, sort of…Grey-ish Wardens? Off-white Wardens, the Cleaners of Pans?” Cullen approached the chalice, standing as tall as he could. This was his proudest moment. The bullying, the taunting barnyard impersonations, the extra hours, the mortification of learning how to read correctly whilst his classmates were learning Ancient Tevine - it had all led here. He bowed his head respectfully as he stepped towards the cup, receiving the Mother’s blessing. Her words washed over him, bathing him in the love of Andraste, emboldening him with the will of the Maker - “Be still, Alistair. Have courage. This is your chance to make something meaningful of your life. Your chance at purpose. To belong to something. You want that, don’t you?” Alistair looked from the corpses around him to the man speaking so gently, so much more kindly than he was used to being spoken to. He was wondering whether kind tones were overrated, suddenly. And yet…Duncan was right. What else was he? What else would he be? The world’s angriest, most reluctant templar? An unwanted, unwelcome heir stuffed in a cupboard just in case he was needed some day? Or this? In two disparate parts of Ferelden, the wind beating against chantry walls and barren hills, two templar recruits spoke the vows they were fed, line by line. Cullen’s voice rang out, young and proud in the grand hall, his hopes and earnest swallowed up and unfelt by its great size. One more templar. Out in the Hinterlands, Alistair’s words were whipped from his mouth and muffled by the battling storm, as unkind to him as it had been to his father and grandmother before him, not that they had anything to do with him now. Swallowing back anticipation in one, fear in the other, both Ferelden classmates took the cup that was offered to them, closed their eyes, and drank. Alistair cried out in pain, the chalice falling from his hands. He collapsed, the venom seizing him. His vision turned black - he could feel something in him dying. Cullen sighed, a light coursing gently through his veins, strengthening him as it lit him from within. He was reborn, something new. What he was meant to be. Beyond the two boys, two mentors looked on, knowing the truth of what was in these cups, of what it would do to those who served. There was no peaceful exit for either of them, no walking away, no kind end to this life. But, duty demanded it. If those before had suffered it, then this generation must, as well. What were lives in comparison to the greater good?

[ilonga]

angstpril day 8

prompt: screaming

ao3

The first Council meeting since Geonosis is a quiet, somber affair. 

They're grieving—the whole Order is grieving, really, for all that they've lost. For Dooku's betrayal. For the clones, and the start of a war. For the galaxy's sudden fractured state. For all the Master, Knights, and—the one Padawan that they'd lost.

Had it gone any differently, Obi-wan would be worrying about the state of the galaxy just like the rest of them. But all he can think about is Anakin. Anakin, whose body they never recovered. Who must have died at Dooku's hands while Obi-wan was unconscious. Who Obi-wan failed to protect as a Master should.

"A funeral, we must arrange," Master Yoda says quietly. "For the dead." He gives Obi-wan a sorrowful look. 

"Did Padawan Skywalker—" Shaak Ti clears her throat awkwardly. "Did he express any . . .  wishes that we should be aware of?"

And isn't that the tragedy of it all. The truth is, Obi-wan has no idea what Anakin would have wanted. They'd never discussed wills or dying wishes or funeral preferences—not that there's a body to bury.

"His mother, perhaps—"

"There was no body," Obi-wan interrupts. He knows he's practically grasping at straws. He doesn't particularly care. "We don't know for certain that he's dead."

The rest of the Masters only look at him sadly. "Feel him, can you?" Master Yoda asks gently.

Obi-wan looks down. They're right, of course. He can't. There's nothing left of Anakin in the force, in the galaxy. 

"No."

*

Sidious stands at a distance from the cell where Skywalker is restrained. Beside him, Tyrannus shifts slightly to the side.

"He is. . . greatly disoriented, now," Tyrannus says. "Rather unresponsive. His memories are growing weak—he recalls very little about the Jedi."

"Has he seen you?" Sidious says harshly. Dooku is efficient and talented, no doubt, but often prideful. Sidious did not have time for mistakes.

"No," Dooku says. "Only the droids."

"Good."

"I do not presume to know your plans, Master," the Count begins carefully, "but I must question—"

"You need not worry about the Rule of Two, Tyrannus," Sidious interrupts. "The boy will be a weapon, nothing more. Much like Grievous and your pet Dathomirian."

"Not a true Sith, then?"

"No." That would require far too much finesse and far too much risk. Breaking him and building him up will be easier and fulfill the same purpose just as well. He turns to the Count, who's still gazing at the boy with a strange, conflicted expression on his face.

Ironic, considering that Tyrannus was the one to relieve Skywalker of his right arm.

"Leave us," he says. He will deliberate on his apprentice's conflict later. As for now, he wants to observe their progress.

Tyrannus bows and exits.

Sidious steps forward. 

Skywalker, for his part, is shackled to the wall and barely conscious. His figure is slumped and battered, scars littering his neck and what can be seen of his limbs—the mechanical one, in particular, is constantly spasming. Another current of electricity courses through him and he lets out a hoarse scream.

His padawan braid has been burned off, Sidious notes. A rare moment of insight on Tyrannus's part.

He waves a hand and steps forward into the cell. The boy knows him fondly, after all. If he plays his cards right, the boy will trust him unquestioningly even when he has no memory of the friendly Chancellor Palpatine.

The boy blinks at the noise, and his eyelids crack open. He struggles to lift his head.

"Chancellor?" Skywalker whispers uncertainly, vague recognition sparking in his eyes.

"Do not worry," Sidious says. "I will help you, as I always have, young Vader."

Skywalker blinks uncertainly, too out of it to question the new name. After a few seconds, his breathing evens out and he slips into unconsciousness once more.

[hujanmimpi]

day 8: the power of music

bagi aku pribadi, musik punya banyak peran penting di sela kehidupan. sama seperti halnya menulis. ada begitu banyak momen yang bisa direkam, dirangkum, dan juga dikenang ketika sebuah musik mengalun di telinga.

jatuh cinta, patah hati, duka, suka, kecewa, marah, dan sederet perasaan lainnya bisa digambarkan dengan satu dua lagu yang rasanya kalau playlist dibuka, bisa memenuhi tulisan ini hingga entah seberapa panjang.

music is the soundtrack of our life.

aku selalu sepakat dengan kalimat tersebut.

soundtrack yang pasti berbeda bagi setiap manusia. soundtrack yang dipilihnya juga tidak dengan banyak perenungan. yang tiba-tiba saja bisa dirasa amat pas menggambarkan perasaan dan kejadian.

begitu, kan?

kekuatan musik sama halnya dengan kekuatan yang dihasilkan kata dan tulisan. bedanya, ketika kamu mendengarkan alunan musik, tidak perlu selamanya kamu tahu arti dari lirik sebuah lagu yang dimainkan, tidak perlu kamu jadi si mahir dan mengerti not balok dan lain sebagainya, namun kamu bisa menikmati dan merasakan emosi yang dicurahkan di dalamnya.

menarik dan memikat.

bagiku, musik seperti itu.

22 Agustus 2021 - hujanmimpi -

[klara019]

Angstpril day 8

Screaming

I also want to dedicate this fanfic to @mmm-cheif-beifong who brought my ideas to life. I mean seriously thank you dude ❤️

(check tags for trigger warnings)

All Kya wanted right now was to scream. She wasn’t ready for this, she knew that there won’t be a day that she would be prepared to stand all that grief and sadness after losing her wife. She felt that her knees bent and she landed on the solid ground  but everything seemed so distant and blurry. It couldn’t be true.

Lin fell behind the edge of the mountain and there was no way she could survive that fall. She saw Suyin wrapping P’li’s head with some piece of metal, she saw the explosion wiping her out. 

Kya jumped and ran to Suyin as fast as she could. She wanted to look down to find Lin but Kya pushed her away with tears in her eyes. 

“Don’t look there.”

But Kya wasn’t listening, she knew she was trembling with emotions and even then she came closer to the edge. Despite Suiyn’s warning she took a look and immediately regretted it.

She sat down hiding her face in her knees. She wanted to scream but wasn’t able to do it. She still couldn’t believe what happened. 

Suyin embraced her trying to stay strong. It wasn't easy with all the guilt she struggled with right now. After a while she started sobbing because she couldn’t bear the feelings. 

She wanted it to be a bad dream, a horrible nightmare that she could wake up from. But it was true, it all happened and no one was able to change this.

Kya was gradually becoming more and more angry. They took everything from her, everything that matters. She started to think about revenge, she wanted to do it for Lin because now, Kya wasn’t feeling like she is still a person. She felt empty, the void was filling her with its darkness and nothingness. 

She wanted to cry. 

She took a deep breath.

She wanted to feel.

She raised her head.

She wanted to scream.

So she screamed.

[roseraintears]

You promised

Annabeth screamed. Luke was holding her hand, pulling her with him as they ran up the hill towards their destination. Luke had told her to stay calm over and over again but all of this terrified her. The knowledge that she could die here right where she was supposed to finally be saved, the monsters growls that bellowed behind her and Thalia. Thalia her best friend that she felt closer with than her stepmother, who was holding the monster army all by herself.

“Thalia! We have to help Thalia!“, She begged with tears in her eyes. Luke stopped suddenly as if her words had frozen him. He turned and for the first time, Annabeth saw the strong expression he always had crumbled.

“We….we can‘t go back Annie we have to get to Camp. Thalia….she will be fine.“ The son of Hermes said but in Annabeth‘s ears his voice sounded unconvinced and that scared her even more.

read more on ao3

@emilydaughterofapollo , @perseusjackson-jasongrace, @fictionalnormalcy @chaos-company

If you liked this post be welcome to give me feedback :D

[mistresstuki]

Day Eight, Watch

[thegaybachelorsims]

DAY EIGHT

Mark Matthews @stories4sims​

Early the next morning, Mark made his way upstairs to Seth’s room. He had thought all night about yesterday’s events. He found out that not only did Seth sleep with Coop on their one on one, he also slept wit Javon and Owen yesterday. Only hours apart!! Was it true what Javon said, that Seth was just like every other gay man he ever knew? He couldn’t believe that, but the thought of it actually made him angry. He bolted into the room....

MARK- SETH!!!??

MARK- “I really thought you were different Seth.  I thought that you were more concerned about a long term commitment, not just about Sex, and then I find out that you had sex with three guys in less than 24 hours!!?? I thought I knew who you were.”

SETH- “I had a feeling you would react this way...”

MARK- “Sorry, but I thought we had something.  I should have told you how I felt I suppose, but would it have made a difference? I love you Seth... There I said it. And I thought you felt something for me as well. But I suppose I was mistaken.”

SETH- “Mark... hold up. Listen, I do care about you. A lot. Maybe even more than the others, but I wasn’t sure. I don’t know what I am feeling. I care about each one of you guys.  Everyone of you have something about you that attracts me to you. But, the bottom line is this is a competition, and yes, I do care about commitment, but I need to find out who is really where I am. Yes, I slept with Coop on the beach, it just happened. There was something there.  And yes, I slept with Owen and Javon... Have you seen them?  They are both sexy as hell, but they both are good guys, and I can relate to them. I don’t want to make the wrong decision. I have to take EVERYTHING in consideration, and for a long term relationship, there does have to be some sexual attraction...”

MARK- “So where does that leave me then?” Mark steps back, Seth moves back towards him.

SETH- “You are still here aren’t you? You are still in this. You can still make me see that you are the right decision Mark. And to be honest, jealousy doesn’t look that good on you. But those shorts do. I think you came in here this morning to prove something, didn’t you?”

MARK- “Maybe.

Meanwhile back downstairs...

COOPER- “Good Morning, Owen, so I take it by that smug look on your face, you accomplished your goal with Seth last night?”

OWEN- “Oh, yes, and just let me tell you, that boy was WILD!”

JAVON- “You are welcome.  I got him primed for you.”

OWEN- “Quite the guy, that Seth. I think I could really fall in love with him. Honestly, I think it is going to be just me and Mark at the end of this thing, and well we both know who will win that!”

COOPER- “Between the two of you?  I’d put my money on Mark.”

JAVON- “Well you are both wrong, on both accounts.  I think it is going to be Mr. Owen here, and myself.  Sorry Coop, I just think you are way too much of a pretty boy for Seth.  Then between Owen and I, there is only one choice. Muah!”

OWN- “Forget it, Javon, it’s going to be me that takes Seth home for a good long ride!”

COOPER- “I think you are both disgusting, and Seth is going to see right through your charade, neither one of you are interested in him, all you want is the money.”

JAVON- “Fifty K is nothing to sneeze at, Coop.”

OWEN- “Unless you are already rich, then of course it doesn’t matter, does it Coop?”

COOPER- “You guys think I am rich!!??  What a joke. I am one of seven kids and my parents both still work... and work hard for what we have. So yes, 50k is a lot of money to me. But not at the expense of hurting another person.  Excuse me, I think I am going to go eat my breakfast before I lose my appetite.”

[nyankocatnyan]

Day 8: Free Day. Just bingqiu relaxing~ Thank you for the fun week!

[just-call-me-moran]

Here’s my inktober day eight (8) for frail.

-Kyi

[hannibal-obsessed]

#hannibaladventcalendar #dayeight #hannibal #tinyfreddielounds #freddielounds #hannibaladvent #advent #adventcalendar #hannibalobsessed #funkopops #funkos #christmas #customfunkopop #customfunkopops https://www.instagram.com/p/B50is1eFcOX/?igshid=fkf4sl3ixbd8

[raelynne]

Just under the wire because I forgot my sketchbook today. Worlds shittiest moth. #inktober #pencilandink #sketch #doodle #deathsheadmoth #inktober2019 #DayEight https://www.instagram.com/p/B3YhxrOJEar/?igshid=dw6h29hx2drc

[dmidagad]

day eight. #dayeight. #palaisdesthes. #tea. #quote. https://www.instagram.com/p/CmnGl7FMGmf/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=