brave little princess

imagine amanda watching how mothers on vulcan share a telepathic bond with their children and not being able to do this for spock

imagine how it would break her heart, how she might worry they'll never connect when she sees a mother touching her daughter's face or holding her son's hand with purpose, without words

imagine spock melding with her as soon as he's able, showing her he loves her because he can't say it, he'll never be able to say it

imagine her being so proud of her little boy for researching and teaching himself to meld with a non-telepath just for her, all for her

holding him after when he's so exhausted he goes boneless in her arms and she strokes his hair and thanks him

and he mumbles something about it being illogical to thank him before falling asleep and she holds his little hand and feels the tiniest sparks of love still there, so small she might've imagined them before he's snoring softly

Perhaps you are the one who has changed.

if only they would know

maybe i wouldn't be such a crybaby

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

fate vs agency: altan trengsin and fang runin

The Phoenix outright states: ‘You humans always think you’re destined for things, for tragedy or for greatness. Destiny is a myth. Destiny is the only myth. The gods choose nothing. You chose.’ But is that true?

Altan and especially Rin were doomed by the narrative the moment Speer was razed, the moment they were whisked from their homes to a lab or an abusive household.

The thing is: nobody actually wanted them. They were dirty Speerly shaman trash; Altan was experimented on and Rin was abused for her entire childhood. Even in Sinegard, they were both discriminated against - Altan’s a freak of nature who is used for entertainment even if people fear him, and Rin is only her skin colour - even though they both worked so hard and DESERVED to go there. Nobody wanted them until they went to the Cike.

This fuels the anger that has been curated since they were literal kids. Of course they’re angry, and of course they don’t know how to express that in a healthy way - they’ve ALWAYS been abused, they’ve never known anything else. Obviously that doesn’t excuse some of the things they’ve done because of this anger (see: Altan’s abusive behaviour and Rin’s genocide), but the people around them, and society as a whole, failed them. There were two children, maybe Speerlies, but they were two hurt and scared children.

They did choose some things, but they were doomed the moment that Nikan decided to place them in Shiro and the Fangs’ hands. They were so angry, so hurt, so scared - they never would know anything else, really.

Fate doomed not only Rin’s fate, but the possible future she’d have with Nezha. They loved each other, but they could never have each other. Rinezha are the star-crossed lovers, the Romeo and Juliet, the Pyramus and Thisbe, the fleeting touch, the only kiss, the necessary betrayal and the leaving one behind. They are a walking juxtaposition - fire and water, general who wants absolute destruction and government official/ruler who needs Nikan to be safe for the future, poor and rich etc etc. And yet, they have these soft moments because they know how war destroys; they love each other in spite of all of this, but they can never have each other, because Nezha is the last Yin left, and Rin will never live in a world where Hesperians rule her home.

The Phoenix (and Rin by extension, I guess) doesn’t believe fate exists - that there is a choice for everything - but literally everything ensured Rin and Nezha would never be happy and in love: their race, their positions in power, their ideologies, their families, their relationships with other people, their thought patterns, their beliefs, their relationship with their power/shamanism… literally everything would’ve fucked them up. And yet, here they are defying fate, only to fall back into it again. Love is not enough.

The same goes for Altan and Chaghan. They can never have a healthy relationship where Altan doesn’t die. Altan cannot live, he’s self destructive and miserable and angry. He lives only to destroy and when he isn’t destroying, he wants to die.

They could’ve made choices, yes, but nobody makes rational choices in war. They were limited by the tools society gave them, and yeah, they were awful people, but fate itself doomed them before they were old enough to think.

:(

gege really is the stephanie meyer + colleen hoover of the anime world. the absolute WORST mangaka I’ve ever seen. this nigga is ass lmao.

anakin’s the type of guy to witness you becoming a blubbering, teary mess while driving somewhere and say “pull over, let me drive.” and as soon as you swap places, he’ll turn to you and tug your face right into his chest and let you cry it all out before switching the car back on and pulling into the nearest drive through to get you a water and soda 💖

Another cute as hell OC picrew ❤️

Featured: Deputy Sabrina Donovan / Mercedes "Mercy" Sibley (added her EG necklace because it felt like it was the only thing that was missing) Savannah Donovan (a pastel babey, ain't she) / Deputy Calahan Hartley

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @poisonedtruth @florbelles @fleurviolettes @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @chazz-anova @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @direwombat @nightbloodbix @purplehairsecretlair @euryalex @sstewyhosseini @shegetsburned @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @corvosattano @cassietrn @madparadoxum @theelderhazelnut @voidika @strangefable @the-silver-chronicles and anyone that would like to show off their OCs in this style ❤️

saemi-the-dreamer asked:

OTP ask 😉 ! Krisnix: 10, 14, 30, 39, 42 ; Estelanor: 2, 5, 18, 30, 51 please?

Splitting these up into two posts again as I rambled on for way too long. And this way, I can post at least part of it sooner <3. This one is the krisnix one.

Krisnix

10. Describe their first date

They have like three "first dates" lol. The first would be the first time Kristoph invites Phoenix to join him for dinner at the Borscht after Phoenix finishes his shift there (or in-between shifts). Kristoph offers to pick up the check (he will do this on all their subsequent dates as well, and Phoenix doesn't resist in the least). Phoenix *technically* gets an employee discount when he dines at the Borscht but he never uses it with Kristoph--both because he enjoys making Kristoph spend more--and because he knows that Kristoph himself is enough of a snob that he'd hate feeling like a "cheap date" who couldn't afford to pay the proper bill.

Neither of them really expects this to turn into a regular thing. They just happen to be there (either Kristoph was working on a case in the area or purposely sought Phoenix out following the Bar Association's ruling) and be hungry at the same time. So they figure that they might as well eat together and talk through the conversation. And again, both of them are pretty surprised at how agreeable they find each other's company.

Phoenix is much more intelligent and well-read than his unpolished "every man" exterior would suggest--largely due to his time as an arts major. And Kristoph is surprised at how much they have to talk about. He may not be as cultured as Kristoph by a long shot, but he's surprisingly interesting and insightful, nevertheless. And the conversations end up being a lot more stimulating (in more ways than one) and engrossing than Kristoph ever expected.

Meanwhile even though Kristoph Gavin comes across as the coldest, most remote and pretentious person that you've ever met at first (and to be fair, there is a good bit of that in him still), Phoenix is amazed at how full-of-life-and-light Kristoph can be when you catch him on the right topic. He positively gushes about dogs and tells the funniest, warmest stories about Klavier-as-a-small-child. It's rather adorable and super unexpected. He's also surprisingly funny. His wit is much drier than Phoenix's own, and a bit more biting. But still, it's there and it's sometimes irrestitable. Plus, Kristoph is also funny in unintentional ways, given how stiff and formal and seemingly stoic he often is. So much so that Phoenix can't help but look at him and laugh--simultaneously with derision (i.e. "can you fucking believe this guy?") and with genuine affection (i.e.. "it's fucking cute how ridiculous he is without meaning to be.")

Their second "first date" would be the first time that they do something together in a place other than the Borscht Bowl. Neither of them come even close to acknowledging it as a date. This is simply an" outing that we will do together since I enjoy your company and we are sort of 'friends' now." It probably comes about rather organically. Kristoph mentions a different restaurant that he recently tried with Klavier and wonders if Phoenix has ever tried it. (Of course, he hasn't. The entrees cost more than he makes in a given night at the Borscht). Which then naturally extends to Kristoph saying that it's a pity Phoenix hasn't had a chance to go yet, and perhaps, he and Kristoph might go together some evening as friends.

Their third "first date" would be much the same as one of the ones that came before. But with a crucial difference. They are still nowhere near identifying this particular outing as a "date." But since their last "first date," their "friendship" has since extended to include physical intimacy of some kind. Maybe they've had a drunken kiss or two--or maybe they've actually done teh sex. Nevertheless, they are both acutely aware that things are DIFFERENT between them from then on, while also stubbornly refusing to admit to each other that things are different. They know this is a date. They know that they are much more than friends--even ones "with benefits"--but you will never get them to acknowledge this fact. This is just a shared social experience between two men who enjoy each other's company and lips and there is nothing more to it than that. (There is a great deal more to it than that).

Sadly, they never got to the point of a fourth "first date" (i.e. one that they openly acknowledge as a date) in canon, but they still can in my heart.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

Both Phoenix and Kristoph are artistically-minded, driven, and very intelligent (albeit in different ways.) As I mentioned in the previous point, Phoenix is somewhat more "cultured" than one would imagine and Kristoph is not *quite* as much of a humorless stick-in-the-mud than he appears. So they actually find that they have a great deal to talk about and can enjoy each other's company. Due to the circumstances that brought them together, there is inevitably a little bit of a facade to their "friendship" but not nearly as much of one as you might think.

In terms of their differences counterbalancing each other, Kristoph's cautious and reserved nature helps reign in some of Phoenix's unhinged impulsiveness. Meanwhile, Phoenix's sense of humor and spontaneity can sometimes force Kristoph to stop taking everything (especially himself) so damn seriously and to open himself up to life outside professional success.

However, it isn't all smooth sailing for them. These same differences can cause friction between them just as often as they smooth it. Moreover, the fact that both men are extremely stubborn also leads to clashes.

As a workaholic and supremely ambitious person in his own right, Kristoph also finds himself frequently frustrated by Phoenix Wright's perceived laziness and lack of ambition. They both know that Phoenix is capable of being more than dubiously sober piano bum and illegal poker player at a mediocre dive bar. So why isn't Phoenix "trying" harder to find something better for himself?

Meanwhile, Kristoph is also trying very hard not to acknowledge that Phoenix's current state is very much Kristoph's own fault. He tries to convince Phoenix to lift himself out of his sorry state, at least in part to ease Kristoph's own conscience.

Kristoph is also very unaware that much of Phoenix's perceived lazy, aimlessness is an act--one carefully tailored to lull Kristoph into a false sense of security so that Phoenix can make his move.

Naturally, the biggest barrier between them is the one that they can never directly acknowledge. Kristoph's role in orchestrating Phoenix's disbarment and Phoenix's complete awareness of this fact. On the rare occasion that the topic comes up indirectly in conversation (ex: any mention of Phoenix's former legal career, Kristoph's Bar Association duties, Trucy's life before Phoenix, media coverage of the so-called "Dark Age of Law,"etc.) things between Kristoph and Phoenix become decidedly more tense than usual. Lots of sarcastic remarks, comments that can be taken in more than one way, and little arguments over matters that would normally not have provoked such a response. Again, they can't ever discuss the real state of things openly so they have their little proxy spats and then quickly try to change the subject.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other’s outfits; what is each wearing?

Phoenix loves to make Kristoph dress more casually--both because it's cute but also because he thinks it's mentally/psychologically "good" for Kristoph. He will be more relaxed when he wears clothing that is softer, looser, and/or more comfortable. I think Kristoph probably has a Gavinners-branded hoodie or sweatshirt that is leftover merch from Klavier, and Phoenix is constantly trying to persuade him into wearing it--ideally with jeans instead of Kristoph's normal dress pants. He eventually gives in, partly because Phoenix Wright is unbelievably stubborn but also partially because damn it, the sweatshirt (though far too casual for professional use) is very soft and very warm--and Kristoph has always been the sort of person who gets cold easily. And there is something very relaxing and soothing about letting himself dress for warmth and physical comfort instead of trying to impress people. Also he feels much freer to cuddle with Vongole (which is also psychologically very good for him) when he's less concerned about getting dog hair on his nice work clothes.

Kristoph, conversely, likes to dress Phoenix up. Underneath that dreadful hat and sweatshirt, Phoenix Wright is a rather handsome man with nice broad-shoulders, a pleasingly strong jaw, and bright, twinkling eyes. He really should show off his handsome features and physique. And yet, he hides himself in this loose, plebian garb and two days worth of stubble. (Kristoph is in deep denial about how much he likes Phoenix's stubble. Phoenix is completely aware of the effect he has on the other man).

So Kristoph is always looking for excuses to put Phoenix in a suit or even just a button-down shirt with a tie. And sometimes, Phoenix is willing to indulge him, even if it still feels weird to put on his "trial suit" to go anywhere other than courtroom. But he does like reminding Kristoph (and himself) just how nicely he can clean up when he wants to.

(Kristoph is so lucky that he never got to see three-piece suit dilfnix and his waistcoat of sexyness. He would've died of lust on the spot, and all Phoenix would've done was laugh.)

Another "compromise" is that Kristoph is able to talk Phoenix into a bit more often is a short-sleeve polo shirt. A little more dressy than his normal hoodie but still not properly formal.

(Of course, Kristoph never quite thinks through the ramifications of this. He is Victorian level of repressed-yet-horny. And so the instant, Phoenix's bare forearms enter the chat, kristoph.exe promptly stops working.)

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

Honestly, I think its fairly plausible that either would do this. But honestly, it's much more interesting to think about Kristoph being the one to do it so that's where I'm gonna focus.

This could be a possible backstory for Vongole acquisition. Kristoph's job led him to find the most Beautiful Dog in the World™ left abandoned (and possibly wounded) after her owner died or went to prison. At first, he intends to take Vongole in for a short while until he can find a new home for her. (She's a purebred and a very good girl so Kristoph isn't ready to just dump her in an animal shelter's care and hope for the best). But it's not long until he finds himself just completely enraptured by her and unable to imagine his life without her.

Phoenix, meanwhile, has enjoyed watching this unfold from a bit of a distance. He doesn't meet Vongole officially for awhile, but he notices how quickly Kristoph is completely "puppy-whipped" for her. Kristoph can't stop talking about this "foster" dog he's looking after. He talks about more even than he talks about work--which is saying something. His eyes light up behind his glasses and he can't stop smiling when he's chattering about how SMART and cultured Vongole is, because she sits and listens and wags her tail whenever Kristoph is practicing his violin. And she's so got the most refined palette too. She likes only the best dog food made from the finest ingredients.

It's adorable seeing Kristoph like this, so happy and relaxed and at peace with himself. Even with all the baggage between himself and Kristoph, Phoenix genuinely likes seeing his frenemy in this light and is happy for him.

After a few months worth of Kristoph "fostering" Vongole, he finally announces that he's decided to keep her permanently and Phoenix is all ...

(Phoenix saw this coming about a week after Vongole came into Kristoph's life).

I am also struck by another possible "Kristoph-rescues-a-wounded-animal scenario" as well and would like to discuss it. In this case, I think Kristoph should find and take care of a wounded bird (preferably a baby). I think the most narratively satisfying (i.e. metaphorically resonant) would involve Kristoph having accidentally caused the bird's injury in the first place. Maybe he accidentally hit a passing bird with his car or caused the bird to fall out of its nest and injure itself, while Kristoph was tending to his garden. Kristoph would therefore have to take accountability for having hurt something so beautiful and delicate and would see his nursing the bird back to health as an atonement for his past missteps.

Phoenix, meanwhile, would have very mixed reactions to seeing Kristoph's diligent care for this particular bird. He can't help but feel a little envious seeing Kristoph take responsibility for his harmful actions in this respect, while Kristoph has utterly failed to do the same where Phoenix is concerned. The significance of this being a bird--and Phoenix's own name being a (mythical) bird is not at all lost on him either. But on the other hand, he sees Kristoph being so patient and caring and gentle with this little wounded bird, and Phoenix can't help but love him for it. Can't help but wonder if--if only circumstances were just a little different and if he and/or Kristoph were able to swallow their pride for long enough--maybe Kristoph would have been able to do the same thing with Phoenix after all. But of course, they are doomed by themselves, their anger, and the narrative so this would never happen.

If the bird is unable to be safely released back into the wild after all--or Kristoph is simply unwilling to let the bird go-- it's also possible that the caged blue bird in Kristoph's cell is in fact this very same bird. Which adds some additional metaphorical resonance to the obvious Phoenix-bird parallels. Either Kristoph has already damaged the bird (and Phoenix) so severely and irrevocably that even his most ardent attempts at atonement/undoing the harm are not nearly enough. Or Kristoph has become so mentally and emotionally attached to the bird (and Phoenix) that he refuses to let it fly away from him--especially while Kristoph himself is wasting away in prison.

42. What’s their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

Phoenix most enjoys bright, warm sunny days (especially in the summertime). This is more in general than relating to Kristoph specifically. There is so much more to do when the weather is nice--including a few particular things that he enjoys doing with Trucy and often with Kristoph as well. They've gone berry-picking a few times (on Kristoph's dime), something that neither Kristoph nor Trucy had ever done before and something that they are both pleasantly surprised by. They will go for picnics at the park and talk Kristoph into taking Vongole with them. (Trucy enjoys playing several rounds of fetch with her afterwards). Sometimes, when they have a day at the pool, Kristoph will wear a big, floppy hat to keep the sun off his face, and Phoenix can't help but find it rather endearing.

Kristoph, meanwhile, enjoys the rain. Or more specifically, a steady, lightning-less medium downpour that is heavy enough to keep everyone indoors (and prevent Phoenix from leaving too soon) and water the grass, while still being nowhere near heavy enough for there to be any danger of flooding.

He enjoys taking Vongole for walks after the rain and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the air. He particularly enjoys it when he is able to rope Phoenix (and sometimes Trucy and/or Klavier) into joining him. Especially on the very memorable occasion that they saw a full rainbow just as the sun was starting to set.

This new conditioner is nice. It smells like cotton and perfume. Curls splay loose and fuzzy across his shoulders, soft from the warmth of being pressed to the pillow for the whole nap.

A hand skims across the ridges of his back. Only Emory’s familiar fingertips get to trace the thick ridges and valleys of layered scars there. When a brush across the longest, widest scar elicits a shudder and a whine of complaint, Emory scratches there. Long gentle swipes of short nails scratch at the deep uncomfortable itch until Lux finally melts again.

“Come here, Curls.” Lux shifts his hips back and hums happily when he’s swept closer to curl against his boyfriend, a bunched up blanket between them.

They’re close, warm, safe. Been safe for a long time.

Lux stretches, arms flying wide and back arching. A long groan is wrung from his throat and his eyes squeeze shut, sleepy tension melting away. Emory’s hand slipping under his upper arm to wrap around his shoulder doesn’t startle him at all. Diligent fingers press at knotted muscles and Lux whines, ending his stretch and falling still to allow the painful massage. It always feels so much better after the - after it stops -

It’s too painful. Eyes screwing shut tighter, fingers flexing sharply, Lux hisses out a sharp breath and waits for Emory to notice his reaction. He’ll stop instantly.

Knuckles dig in harder against joints that were permanently damaged years ago. Lux finally lets out a whine and twists uncomfortably, blinking his eyes open and twisting his head to see his boyfriend.

“Em? It, it, I don’t, it’s a little…”

Beautiful dark eyes glint at him. “A little…?”

He’s not understanding, somehow. Lux licks his lips and tries to find the words to explain kindly, to spare Emory the sharp heartache of causing him pain. “A li-ittle, um, it, doesn’t f-feel right, not your fault, I, I think it’s, mmh, muscles locked up, bad…”

Usually a single stutter is enough to make Emory hesitate and offer to back away. It’s not working now, though. Lux must - he must be doing it wrong somehow. Not communicating right. He should be clearer. Emory will be glad that he asked for what he needed.

“Em, um, I need, I need, I n-need, hnn!” Blue eyes fly wide and his back arches once more as fire erupts in his shoulder. It’s not - it can’t be happening. Emory’s fingers tighten their grip around the freshly popped joint, and Lux’s throat squeezes out a mewling sound before he can even understand that he’s being hurt.

“You need…?” Guides Emory in a warm, loving tone. Lux’s bare feet kick the blankets away and scramble across the bed as he tries to escape the unbearable grip on his shoulder which is creaking under Emory’s slowly flexing hands.

“I n-need, I, I, need, please!” This can’t be happening, but it is, somehow. A nightmare, maybe. Or mind magic, or - please, it must be a hallucination or trick, not his real boyfriend really mind controlled. And not… not Emory just… wanting to hurt him. Skin a sickly pale shade and fingers clawing into the mattress, Lux digs the back of his head into Emory’s chest and keens desperately.

The pop of the ball of his shoulder leaving its socket must be something he imagines as that new agony is ignited. There’s no way he could hear that, not with the blood rushing in his ears the way it is. But he imagines the sickening sound anyway. Only when he hears the soft dry sobs of his scream dying out, does he realize that he was screaming at all.

“Does that hurt, honey?” Comes the tender voice of the man he loves so much, right at the shell of his ear. Lux isn’t pinned, isn’t chained, there’s no gun or magic to his head. Still, the grip that shifts to wrap around his elbow keeps him in place with the imagined threat of this getting much, much worse somehow.

“Please…” Restless but not daring to struggle, Lux tries to swallow the sobs that threaten to catch in his throat and suffocate him. “I want… nnh, normal Emory. Safe. Don’t, I, I…” A self-interrupting sob-breath jolts his chest. “I want to wake up.”

The crunch of his elbow being snapped with sheer strength sends him arching up so sharply that Lux knocks his head back against Emory’s chin. It’s just enough to stun the hands off of his broken arm, and the warlock finally struggles, crawling with the awkward desperation of a mouse that’s finally wriggled free from a trap.

“Not so fast, baby,” Chides Emory, coolly using one of the petnames that send a chill of disgust racing up Lux’s spine. He crashes to the floor and throws himself to the bedroom door, tossing up fear-weakened magic to block the doorway behind him and lock the door shut.

There is not banging on the wood, no yelling. It’s eerily silent in there as Lux stumbles out of the house, muffling heartbroken weeping behind a sweaty palm.

After several polls of coming in second or third or fourth or whateverth place, Bo-Katan's Obitine Flashbacks finally won!

Bo-Katan doesn’t know specifics, but she does know it hasn’t been more than a month.

She lowers her voice. “I’m sorry for your loss, Wren. I know you and the Jedi were… close…”

And Sabine Wren drops her face into her arms, bursting into tears and then apologizing through her hysterical sobs, which tells Bo-Katan exactly how close they were.

Bo-Katan is hit with a feeling of deja vu, like she’s done this before.

Wait.

No.

She has.

Ha ha. Fun.

This is just exactly what she needed right now, another woman brokenhearted over a Jedi.

And she thought the time with her sister had been awkward.

Wren is still rambling, half-incoherently as she rubs her eyes and tries to pull herself together, a mix of excuses and explanations and aching, soul-deep pain.

She says enough to give Bo-Katan another realization.

Unless Bo has entirely misheard—not only did Wren have feelings for the Jedi boy—not only did the Jedi boy have feelings for Wren in return—not only did they confess to each other—they also said the vows, which is, Bo is pretty sure, farther than Satine ever got with her Jedi, and then the thought of Satine and Kenobi gives Bo-Katan the most horrifying notion yet.

“Oh, my gods, are you pregnant?”

Sabine sits up, eyes huge, mouth hanging open in speechless bewilderment.

“Am I… no!”

Her answer is entirely sincere, and Bo-Katan slumps in relief.

Manda be praised. We don’t need more Korkies.

The ground cracked around Kira's sword, the blue glow from beneath peeking through in a nightmarish way. At this point, with all he had seen since Scott bit him, he should be used to those kinds of things happening, but unfortunately, he wasn't. His gaze followed the cracks, expanding and moving, like it was an animal, something conscious, trying to reach for Theo with crooked fingers. His brain was struggling to understand what was happening, and then Kira's words came, "Your sister wants to see you." A bone-chilling shiver went through him, leaving the hair on the back of his neck standing, flinching backward as if the threat was aimed at himself. It was stupid; he knew it was. He wasn't going to get hurt. Kira was pack, but that thought didn't do anything to calm him, to stop his stomach from churning, and the bile rising to his throat when a girl crawled out from the hole, her body dislocated, hands like claws latching onto Theo's legs like shackles. When Theo fell, he locked eyes with him for a second. For the first time since he met him, he looked like a boy, the uneasy, sinister mask was gone. But that wasn't any better, not when the horror was seeping from him like an overflowing dam. The sour smell of panic hit Liam's face seconds after, it was suffocating and almost made him hunch over himself, fighting the reflex to gag. But Mason was there, holding onto him, somehow keeping him at bay. The screams of Theo bashing his ears like he was standing next to him, leaving the sound ricocheting inside his skull. It felt like having cotton inside, similar to what waking in the middle of the night after a bad dream felt like, mouth dry and chalky, disoriented. "But this is real," a voice in the back of his head whispered. His heart stopped for a second before resuming with all force, as if trying to get out of his body. Seemingly, his feet had a similar idea and launched himself forward without thinking. If it wasn't for Lydia's hand suddenly around his wrist, he wouldn't have stopped, or so he said to himself. It felt strange, wrong. This wasn't something they should be doing. His eyebrows touched in a frown as the wolfish features receded, leaving just the face of a horrified teenager. This wasn't okay; this couldn't be happening. He had to do something. They didn't kill; they didn't take upon themselves the deed of punishing enemies like that. But before he could do something, say something, anything, the ground was closing, and Theo was gone. Any trace of him had vanished, like he had never existed. The only proof that he had been there was the chaos around, the loss, the blunt, numb sting of betrayal Liam could still feel since realizing Theo had used him to kill Scott. "This can't be right," Liam mumbled without actually intending to. He could feel the others' gazes on him, but he couldn't take his eyes away from the ground, from the spot where Theo had been standing seconds before. "He wanted to kill us," Kira responded quietly but firmly, totally convinced. Liam was shaking his head before realizing. It was like his body had a will of its own, without asking permission for anything. "He's not the first," he replied, taking shaky steps forward, staring at the ground as if he would be able to see through the floor and catch a glimpse of Theo. He knew that he was dangerous, someone you couldn't trust or give the benefit of the doubt to, at least not again, not after what he had done. Even then, It seemed like too much. Sending someone who was a threat to Eichen was one thing, but this? It felt worse than killing. "We had no other option, Liam," the voice of Scott came from behind him, soft and gentle, full of sorrow but not regret. His eyes snapped up, turning around to find him right behind him. Liam was surprised to find his image blurry; it took him a moment to realize there wasn't anything wrong with Scott. It was his eyes that were doing weird things, glazed with tears. "There's always an option, you said that, isn't that the whole...philosophy of this pack?" The words came out unfiltered and breathy, the disbelief impregnating his tone. He didn't even know he believed them until they were out. "Why...why is this better than killing?" It wasn't a reproach but genuine confusion. He didn't want to kill; he didn't want to be part of it. He didn't want to be okay with standing and watching while someone was being dragged to hell, regardless of whether he deserved it or not. This wasn't him, or at least, he didn't want that to be him. "Theo is too dangerous. He has to stay there. It's the only way to keep ourselves, and others safe," the small voice of Lydia came from behind Scott, and the bile rushed up again, leaving his sides aching with the force of the muscles contracting. Liam bent a little bit, putting his hands on his knees. The fact that it had been his sister taking him didn't took the weight of the fault from the pack, their hands weren't clean just because they hadn't use their claws. Wasn't this using his sister as much as Theo himself did? using her to do something nobody else wanted to do? "For how long?" he whispered through his teeth, swallowing to keep the contents of his stomach inside. There was a deafening silence as no one replied. Liam screwed his eyes shut, letting his head drop to the front. "For how long, Scott?" he repeated, looking up through his hair dangling in front of his face. Scott shook his head slowly, and Liam knew what he meant. He wanted to leave Theo there, forever. The younger moved back as if he had been slapped, emptying the contents of his stomach on the sewer floor as he turned to hold onto the wall. "This isn't okay, this is wrong," the same voice from before repeated again and again until he couldn't hear anything else, barely feeling Mason's hands on his back as he tried to help him up. "We try to save people, we don't do this," he murmured over and over as they dragged him out of the sewers, unaware of the comfort the others tried to give him. But even if he did hear it, it wouldn't have helped. ... That night, tired and feeling as if he had had his soul sucked out of him through his mouth, Liam laid in his bed, eyes hazy but open, staring at the ceiling, thinking of what was happening to Theo down there at that exact moment. Wondering what it was like, asking himself how much Scott would hate him if he stole the sword and brought him back, pondering the idea, rolling it around in his head, unable to actually say it out loud. Would Scott throw him out of the pack? Would they all hate him? Would Theo kill him as soon as he was out? Would he go immediately after the pack and kill them one by one while they were unaware of Liam's betrayal? Or would he go on the run to avoid being dragged to the ground again? Months later, he found an excuse to do it. It wasn't as if it was just an excuse; it was actually helpful. Liam was sure that he would've thought of that even if the guilt wasn't eating him alive. After all, Theo knew about the Wild Hunt; he'd be useful. Scott wouldn't have a reason to say no. They needed the help, and if he did this carefully, it would be a win-win. Liam pondered the weight of the sword in his hands, throwing nervous glances to Hayden at his side, who was visibly anxious, dubious. So, before she could talk him out of it, he raised the sword and buried it in the ground, his chest compressing painfully as the dusty figure of Theo Raeken stood up. Back from the dead.

Movie Posters and Book covers reimagined as FNAF [concept not art]

Warnings: discussion of disturbing imagery, gore, and horror.

None of these ideas are based off the plot of the story and more of the way the poster looked. Just wished to say that before someone told me why poster idea was wrong because of said story plot.

[Feel free to use these ideas but I ask to be tagged if the idea is used so that I can see it. I like looking at cool artwork.]

This poster but redraw it as Michael Afton from FNAF during his Ennard era. Change out the stuff with wires, blood, and some of the remaining internal organs. Blood dripping down his now purple eyes. Clawing at his decomposing face with some of the skin peeling off as he does. It would be a wonderful horror image.

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FNAF 4 Crying Child. Here's my idea. CC kneeling in front of a television playing the Freadbear and Friends cartoon, but have the image be staticed over a bit. Fretboard plushie being on it's back as well in the same position as the poster. But to add onto the image have the nightmare be standing slightly seen in the dark background behind the TV in the same standing order as presented on the TV with the nightmare Fred bear even further behind them with the menacing teeth covered in blood be the most prominent part. The wording on the poster even fits the idea. Have the Poltergeist be turned into Nightmares or something similar.

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Pizza-plex horror poster. I have two ideas that can be mixed and matched around. This isn't as concrete of an idea but spinning of multiple concepts.

1. Have the hand holding the bag be Vanny's and the head in the bag be Vanessa's to symbolize the way that Vanny has taken over Vanessa.

2. Have the hand stay as Vanny but have Gregory's head be in the bag. Showing the worst case scenario that could have happened.

3. Have it be the mimics hand [real or digital] holding Cassie's head in the bag either bare or with the discarded Vanny mask.

But whatever is choosen the bag is changed to a fazbear gift bag, a simple 80s inspired logo, nothing too busy. To add to the horror you could add blood coming from the hole in the bag or from the head in the bag. Either way it's an interesting concept

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William Afton as the man with the bloody knife and the five figures as the five missing children. Make the background the pizzeria and while a simple change over it would be really cool to see where an artist might take it.

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Another FNAF 4 poster idea. This one being from outside the Afton house and the spirits over the top being the nightmares. There's enough faces for it to include a lot more faces. Keep the bedroom window but have the light come from a side view child holding up a flashlight or something similar.

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Another Michael idea. The G in the poster kinda looks like a stylized scooper doesn't it. Keep the clock and blood dripping down it the same, put Michael in his matentence worker uniform and it would make a cool poster. The clock face could even be turned into Baby's face to symbolize where her face appears as a clock face during the game.

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Honestly Just an excuse to draw Bonnie's spirit Jeremy shredding on Bonnie's guitar. Nothing too deep about this one, just a really cool image I wanted everyone to think about.

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Ennard in the sewer. Ennard right after it left Michael's body. The blood still on the sidewalk and some loose wires that didn't make it. Turn the paper boat into Ennard's party hat. Have glowing eyes be seen in the darkness and dried bloody hand like metal be clamping onto the grate.

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Tales from the Pizzaplex with Tiger rock holding the book. Simple one but one I thought would be fun to show for the book fans.

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William holding up a knife to one of his victims. I was thinking Charlie or Cassidy. Have there be some speckles of blood if you believe the missing Children's incident took place over the course of an extended period of time or have it be covered in the blood of the recently killed other children if you believe the killing happen over a very short time span.

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[I might make more parts with more of my ideas later.]