Tumgik
#here
rpfisfine · 1 hour
Text
also im so sorry guys but im gonna be honest i can't do the discord no matter how small and awesome it is and how much i had honestly thought i would be able to handle it and how much i genuinely like and enjoy you guys my ancient mind just wasn't able to withstand it i might check out what you guys are up to and maybe liveblog with you over there every once in a while but overall im just gonna be here on tumblr i think but i am really really happy all of you are having fun and i love you
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes
lorehappy83 · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
"Do what you must, Angel. I don't think you can do the wrong thing"
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
runby2 · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
daddy bear
2K notes · View notes
retellingthehobbit · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Hobbit Comic Adaptation Chapter 17: Dawn First chapter / Previous / Next (Coming TBD)
To view full comic: Webtoon/A03 / Tumblr post with links to all chapters
Other blogs: TikTok/Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog Thank you for reading! This comic takes a while to draw and I appreciate every comment. <3 :_; This chapter was originally going to be much shorter, but then I realized this would be Bilbo’s last moments in Bag End for a very very long time. I thought it was important to put a lot of detail into the backgrounds, to make it clearer what is tempting Bilbo to stay and what he will lose and feel nostalgic for if he leaves. Anyway, people who recognize what the little decorative horses are will win my respect. Some of you probably noticed this, but the white borders of this chapter are a reference to the line “maps made in the Shire showed mostly white spaces beyond its borders.” This line is from FOTR and referenced in chapter 15 of this comic. Another note! In the original book, Bilbo is pressured into leaving by Gandalf; in the movies/fanon, he makes the decision alone. I mixed the two! In a previous chapter, Gandalf gave Bilbo a deadline ("meet us here by eleven"), but Bilbo ultimately makes the decision alone. The next chapter, “Over the Hill and Across the Water,” will arrive….eventually!
1K notes · View notes
aseaofquotes · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Mikki Brammer, The Collected Regrets of Clover
1K notes · View notes
sadbbe · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
iconic
2K notes · View notes
jsunne · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
:)
1K notes · View notes
Dumb idea but what if you were found after being MIA for five years
The task force were confident in their ability to get the intel they needed from their current mission. They had been following this cell for months, knew more about them than the people paying them for information and had slowly chipped away at their defenses without getting their attention.
They were on the cusp of getting the intel they needed.
They had infiltrated the base without issue. Having taken out the guards in the perimeter so efficiently it was as if they had never been there in the first place. With the coverage of nightfall, they were undetected as they came up to the base and soon they were sneaking through the halls.
With every hostile they encountered they took care of them swiftly, leaving the bodies in a pool of their own blood before they even shot at them.
They reached the main room of the base and began their work retrieving all of the information they could from the computers and papers spread about.
Just as they collected enough information, alarms began to sound off in the base and in the distance they could hear gunfire.
Soap quickly looked at the cameras and saw a different group to the hostiles they were stealing from. They didn't look familiar as they gunned down the hostiles with expert skill.
"Who the fuck-"
"Doesn't matter." Price immediately went into action, barely paying attention to the cameras. "We need to get out of here."
In their attempt to get out unscathed and undetected, they ended up in the middle of the firefight. The fight became confusing; it was hard to tell who was shooting at who and where the hostiles were coming from. Many of the hostiles the 141 stole the info from began to die in front of them at an almost frightening speed, leaving the other group to push up.
The task force was close to getting out, if they could get past the threshold and run to a rendezvous point they'd get out without further issue-
A car bomb went off.
The blast sent Price into the ground, mostly unscathed saved for the wind being knocked out of him and temporarily taking his hearing with it.
He struggled to get up the others continued the fight, unable to get to him as they held their ground. They called out to him but he couldn't recover as quickly as he wanted to.
Someone approached him from the dust and he attempted to fire at them before he was kicked in the head. He became even more disorientated, barely able to hold onto consciousness as the person searched through his vest for the USB he had taken.
Price couldn't see their face and as he tried to fight them off, they shoved him back once they got the USB.
They were gone just as quick as they appeared. The gunfire slowly stopped and the group had disappeared, leaving the 141 with barely any ammo left and scraped up, and confused.
The mission went from successful to a complete disaster in mere moments.
Back on their temporary base they were left confused and defeated.
"How did this happen?" Gaz huffed.
"A group that small taking them head on would've died." Ghost said. "They were waiting for us."
"You believe that, sir?" Soap wondered.
Price hadn't said much since they got back, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. He didn't like when things turned out like this, when things get taken from him so quickly without anyway to fight back. Usually an ambush never ended up with this much disaster...this had to have been planned.
"I do." He uncrossed his arms and looked to Laswell who was trying desperately to salvage this. "Can you find out who they are?"
"The cameras there recorded the incident but there's no identifiable markings or clothes that they wore." She explained as she sifted through her laptop. "I may have found our culprit."
The boys huddled around the projector, watching as the footage replayed from the security cameras.
The group walked out from the shadows into the cameras vision. They wore all black and all of them had their faces fully covered except for one, who looked at if they were given orders to put the bomb on the car.
Closer to the camera, it was easier to make out some of the features, but nothing looked recognizable until the person turned around.
"Pause it." Price's eyes widened and he felt his chest tighten. "Zoom in."
The others looked confused for a moment before they too felt their stomach drop. The air in the room became thick and every single one of them could only hear their hearts in their ears as it suddenly became hard to fight against their knees buckling.
Half a face they hadn't seen in five years, recognizable eyes that were darker and full of more hatred than they ever imagined to be possible.
The image was fuzzy but there was no mistake.
You were in the footage alive, five years after being confirmed MIA.
537 notes · View notes
juha-art · 29 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Bring them to me." (Or the four times Suvi helplessly watched her loved ones leave her behind and the one time she didn't)
@quiddie
472 notes · View notes
mechanicalinfection · 2 months
Text
A Ballerina with her Bunny companion
Tumblr media
523 notes · View notes
hangmanshole · 2 years
Text
“steve and eddie are dating” I say into the mic. the crowd boos. I begin to exit the stage in shame. “no, they’re right.” I hear voices say from the back. the spotlight turns on them. it’s joseph quinn and gaten matarazzo
18K notes · View notes
lorenzonuti · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Merged files.
447 notes · View notes
365filmsbyauroranocte · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Here (Bas Devos, 2023)
456 notes · View notes
amberlynnmurdock · 3 months
Text
Here
Tumblr media
Matt Murdock x Reader
Summary: Matt saves his wife from being held hostage by Fisk's men and helps her with the PTSD that comes from it.
From this request from an anon named melted butter!
I hope you like it, anon friend!
Warnings: brief mentions of violence, hostage situation, PTSD symptoms, heavy angst in the beginning
Words: 2.7k
Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude
There would never come a day when she wouldn’t associate that song with blood, torture, and darkness. 
There would never come a day when she wouldn’t remember the cloth wrapped around her eyes that felt like sandpaper on her skin and the way her head pounded from the tightness of the blindfold. She could still feel it sometimes—unprompted moments of weakness when she would put on a hat or earmuffs in the winter and the feeling of something being wrapped around her head transported her to that awful night. She’d rather leave the beanie and earmuffs at home and risk her head getting cold than be reminded of that torture. 
It was the way she hesitated to put on gloves because if her wrists felt too constricted she would be reminded of the way the rope burned her skin so badly it left scars. She’d leave those at home too, and risk dry and cold hands. 
“Sweetheart,” Matt said earnestly, wrapping his hands around her cold ones. “Your hands are so cold. Why didn’t you put on gloves?”
She didn’t reply—she just let Matt continue to warm her hands with his. She preferred it that way. She preferred him to feel the scars around her wrists than her to look at them. 
Ever since that night, she took the coldest showers. Every shower was an ice-cold one. The place they had her held hostage in was stuffy—hot. She remembers her own sweat dripping down her face and the salt burning her eyes even under the blindfold. She can’t feel too hot anymore or else she will again be transported back to that traumatizing night. 
And the song—that fucking song. 
She wasn’t sure if it was a torture tactic or if the Kingpin had requested it be played. The only thing that mattered was that they kept it on repeat, at a loud volume—so loud she could hardly hear her voice when they would ask her a question about Daredevil. 
“I don’t know,” she cried behind her blindfold. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I—“
SLAP!
The violins started to feel like her head was being woven in torturous ways. The sound filled her senses similarly to how cough syrup fills one's senses—bitterness from the smell to the taste on the tip of her tongue. It was nauseating to listen to the song over, and over, and over, and over again. Nauseating to be in a situation like she had just two months ago: alone, in pain, and scared. So very scared that she may not make it. 
Until he found her. He told her he would always find her. 
She didn’t know he was there until the music finally stopped playing, and the lights in the warehouse went out. She was blindfolded but the way the men started yelling about the lights told her everything she needed to know. She was shaking against the wall, sweating, trying to find that relief she should feel that Daredevil had come to her rescue—but even that couldn’t shake off her fear. 
“If you ever get taken from me,” Matt had whispered to her one night in bed as he fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger, “know I will find you. And when you know I’m there, I want you to whisper to me like I am now. Because I’ll hear you and I’ll come to you.”
She whispered to him as soon as she heard the music stop and Fisk’s men were shouting at each other. 
“Matthew,” she hushed even lower than a whisper, “Matthew. Matt…”
Matt has dealt with a lot of dark situations as Daredevil, even before he donned the name and had a red suit. Years ago, he saved a little boy from a Russian gang. He saved a group of young girls from trafficking. He has dealt with the worst criminals in this city and it never got easier. All he could do was save people. He just never bet on the fact that one day he would have to save her.
It was something they talked about before deciding to get married. After months of convincing himself he could never have a life like that, she told him that God didn’t put him on this earth to only bear other people’s burdens. God meant for him to have a life like everyone else—a life that included love and marriage. He agreed on one condition: that it be an intimate small wedding at Clinton Church. And by intimate, only Foggy, Karen, and Marci were invited. 
He never wanted to prepare for a situation like this. He never wanted this day to come. He never pondered on what protocols to teach her if someone were to take her—but after months of avoiding the subject, he thought that was still important in case the situation ever did come. And unfortunately, it finally did come. 
He remembers how still the apartment was when he came home—how silent and cold it was. She hadn’t been home since the morning, he could tell. Icicles started to form on the back of his neck when he realized he hadn’t received a call from her since she left work—which was over an hour ago. Matt felt weak in the knees suddenly. He had to support himself on the kitchen counter as he focused his senses on noises outside of the apartment. 
“Dear God,” Matt whispered, “please keep her safe until I find her. Please help me find her.”
The whispers didn’t last long, nor the prayers—soon, Matt was throwing a rage in the apartment. Shattered glass was on the floor. Broken plates. Matt’s agonizing scream when reality finally settled in him that she was taken from him—by who? There was only one possibility. 
In no time he changed into his Daredevil gear and was prowling the streets, rooftop to rooftop, to find where they had been keeping her hostage.
A warehouse by the pier. He could hear the classical music playing at an incredible volume, enough to hurt her ears and get in her head. As soon as Matt found the source of the music, he shut it off, along with the power. 
And then he let the devil out. 
He thought with his fists before using logic to fight these cronies—throwing punches and brutally throwing men over his shoulders, hitting them relentlessly with whatever weapon he found near him. His billy club wires wrapped around someone's neck so tight it made them pass out, using the metal billy club to throw right in another man’s face. Matt moved recklessly in the dark. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs so loudly it would feel like his chest was ripping apart but he didn’t because he knew she had experienced enough yelling on this night. 
And then, he heard her. 
“Matthew,” she whispered so quietly, it almost missed Matt’s senses. “Matthew… Matt…”
As soon as he made sure all of the men were out, he rushed to her side. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, he was shaking from it. He knelt before her and took off his gloves. 
“Hey,” he cooed, “it’s okay. I’m here. I found you,” and Matt’s voice was wobbly in his throat, tears threatening his eyes but no—he needed to be strong for her. He didn’t know what she endured—quite frankly, didn’t want to know—but he knew it had been a lot on her mentally. She was sobbing. He’d never heard her like this. The blindfold was wrapped so tightly around her eyes. Matt gently untied it and slid it off. He then smelt something metallic in the air—salty. It was blood. Her blood was around her wrists. Matt choked a sob in his chest as he untied her wrists. He could sense the tight friction of a bruise forming on her cheek. 
“I found you,” Matt’s voice cracked—he couldn’t help it. He was a wreck inside to find her like this. In pain, scared, alone. No—not alone anymore, he was here. “It’s okay now.” He gathered her delicate frame in his arms, holding her against his body tightly but not crushing her, and ran his hands through her hair, hushing her cries. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you now. They can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.” 
Matt wasn’t sure what was more traumatizing for him—finding her in that situation or hearing her cries after, and the months that would follow. 
It made him question if marrying her was the right decision.
Despite these small things bringing her back to that dreadful night, there was one positive thing that she would never forget either: the feeling when she saw Daredevil—Matt—kneeling before her and gently pulling her blindfold off. The warm wash of relief that spread in her chest was so unexplainable, she could only feel it again if she really put her mind to it. It was like a warm, safe embrace when she knew Matt had found her like he said he would. She could describe the sensation as putting on a weighted blanket. 
The image of his red Daredevil helmet is ingrained in her mind: it was him against that dark warehouse. It was the glow of the red mask that brought so much comfort to her. She was safe. He had finally come—finally found her. God knows how hard it was to locate her. She was so relieved, that all she could do was sob into his embrace. 
It didn’t get easier when they finally made it home, it only got harder. 
She lay in his bed with tear-stained cheeks. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. She could only whisper. Matt was still in his Daredevil suit, helmet off. He paced the room anxiously, wondering how this could’ve happened, how he could have let this happen. He was thinking of every possibility and what he was going to do next—
“Matthew,” she wheezed as she watched him pace the room. “Matthew.”
He stopped instantly, bringing his attention to her. She was in so much pain, he could sense it from where he stood. It brought a strange heaviness on his shoulders. He knelt again beside the bed and took her hands in his, kissing each knuckle.
“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispered, tears falling down his cheeks—tears of sadness, tears of rage. “I’m so sorry—“
“Shh,” she hushed him. She wasn’t crying anymore. She didn’t think she had any left. “Just be here with me. I need to feel you here with me.” 
Matt took off his Daredevil suit and silently crawled into bed next to her. He carefully brought her close to him so she was snug against his chest. Safe in his arms, nothing could hurt her now.
Months have passed. It’s a bright cold day. 
She and Matt are on their way to their favorite coffee spot uptown. They hardly ever leave Hell’s Kitchen, but she was in the mood for a specific hazelnut latte that only Rosie’s could make. And if it would make her happy to travel almost twenty minutes uptown for a cup of coffee, well, Matt wasn’t going to argue. 
He never brought up that night unless she did. So when she opted to wear a beanie and put on gloves, Matt couldn’t help but feel lighter in his step from the happiness he felt: she was on her way to healing from that experience. He felt like he could forgive himself now. 
“Ready?” She asked at the door, clearly too excited to get this cup. Matt laughed and kissed her before answering. He was so incredibly happy that she seemed to be happy again. 
“Ready.”
The coffee shop had wooden floors and matching wooden tables. In the back was a small bookstore, and on the side the place had a coffee counter. Soft jazz music was playing. Some people were already settled in: a man had his headphones on and was typing aggressively on his laptop, and a young college girl was studying her books. Matt sensed his surroundings everywhere they went to make sure there were no threats.
“Why don’t you go look at the books while I order our coffee,” Matt suggested lightly, untying the gray scarf around his neck. 
“Okay,” she smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go and exploring the back of the cafe. 
Matt waited in line at the coffee counter and sighed contently. 
She immediately was drawn to the fantasy books section. She took off her gloves and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Scanning each title, she picked one out that piqued her interest and frowned when the summary wasn’t what she expected. Another title made her laugh, but she didn’t bother to read the back. She found herself in a different section—romance. She smiled as she glazed over each book spine with her fingers. Romance books always reminded her of Matt. She often imagined what their story would look like in a romance novel. 
And then she heard it. 
Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude
The violins sounded like nails on a chalkboard, bloody fingertips leaving a trail. It sounded like a screech against the pavement. 
It suddenly felt like she no longer was standing in the middle of an aisle of books. Instead, her body was being pulled and sucked into a black hole behind her. Everything around her felt overwhelmingly large and she was small, like she was Alice. Fear crept over her heart like a spider weaving its web. She felt hot in her jacket. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest like a punching bag. 
The song got louder. And louder. And louder. 
“No,” she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. But closing her eyes and seeing darkness only made it worse. “No…” she opened her eyes and felt like she had tunnel vision. 
Matt was standing in line when he heard something pounding loudly in his ears. It only took him a second to hear the song that was playing, and he was immediately looking around for her. The pounding was coming from her—from her heart. 
In no time Matt was by her side, wrapping his arms around her and quickly walking her outside the cafe—away from the lingering glances, away from that horrible song. Removing her from the triggering situation, knowing she was spiraling. 
She was breathing fast now from panic. Matt brought her into a quiet alley and wrapped her in a bear hug, holding her tightly against him. Her hair covered his face as he turned to breathe in her scent. He took a deep breath, and at the same time, motioned for her to breathe with him. 
“I’m here,” he said into her ear softly, “I have you. Breathe with me, okay?”
“Okay,” she managed to say between breaths, feeling like her own air was choking her. She breathed with Matt and closed her eyes, his touch and warm hug bringing her back to reality. 
“Listen to my voice,” Matt guided, “I’m here. I have you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Matt’s voice was always soothing to her, but especially at a moment like this. His voice sounded like how velvet felt. 
Eventually, just standing in his arms holding her tightly, her breathing returned to normal and that song was out of her head, as were her memories of that night. A few silent moments passed. Matt kissed her head softly and held her longer. He’d hold her for as long as she needed. When she was finally okay, she pulled back and reached her lips to kiss Matt’s. He kissed her in return and placed his hands on her face. 
“I’ll always be here for you,” Matt whispered. 
Matt went inside to get their coffee while she waited for him outside. Soon enough, they were back at the apartment, finishing the last of their drinks and sitting on the couch. She rested her head in his lap and Matt drew circles in her hair, counting the breaths it took for her to fall asleep. He’d of course be there when she woke up. 
508 notes · View notes
emdeerm · 3 months
Text
Half-brother?!?!????
Prompt ig. Don't have enough knowledge to pull it off.
So, Dp stuff happen. AGIT too. So PP is gone and forgotten.
ANYWAY. Time passes, and after another huge battle of Ghosts, Maddie dies. Jack is distraught. He wasn't the most attentive parent before and had completely stopped trying to be one after that.
Danny was 17 and Jazz was 19 when they woke up to a small note with an apology.
Jack moved away. He was in his late 40s, the Ghosts were never his biggest interest tbh, it was Maddie and he loved her and her interests to bits. Now that the driving force was gone he just saw no point.
He got back into Uni. Got a degree and started travelling to different sights.
There he met Janet Drake and the rest is history upto your interpretation.
Tim, when he becomes Robin, does a more thorough check of his family and finds out about the possibility that he might have siblings. Adult, independent siblings. He didn't know whether or not to reach out. If he even should. He found records of them searching for his father. Maybe they wouldn't at all be happy to learn about the fact that their dad had a whole new family...
792 notes · View notes
wifegideonnav · 4 months
Text
Hi my name is Reverend Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus and I am the heir to the ninth house (that’s how I got my name) with shaved black hair and black eyes like ominous sepulchers and a lot of people tell me I look like Anastasia the Ninth (if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to the Body of the locked tomb but I wish I was because she’s a major fucking hottie. I only eat gruel but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale brown skin that has never felt the sun. I’m also a necromancer, and I was summoned to a magic mansion called Canaan House on the First House. I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear only black. I love tradition and I get all my clothes from my predecessors closets. For example today I was wearing black robes with matching lace around them and a bone corset, a veil and black boots. I was wearing a grease painted skull on my face. I was walking around inside canaan house. It was raining outside so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
569 notes · View notes