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#My heart is breaking
Percy's reassuring "It's okay, I’m okay" to Annabeth when she's freaking out at the prospect of losing him.
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It's Thalia all over again, it's the arch all over again. It's someone she cares for sacrificing themselves for her, so she can keep going. And he knows what he has to do, but he's been here before with his mom sacrificing herself for him; so he knows how hard it is, and he's doing his best to make it easier for her, and that makes my heart break for them.
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In English, we say, "Flirting."
In TES, we say, "Sorry lass . . . I've got important things to do. We'll speak another time."
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the-crimson · 1 month
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Can you imagine wht just happened from an in game/story pov? Pepito was fleeing for Pepitos life and fell into the lava trying desperately to escape a super fast mob. Pepito managed to crawl out of the lava and was immediately swarmed with the protective warmth of a three thousand ghosts before being teleported to safety by the others. Imagine the others seeing Pepito appear in the stasis chamber with the faint blue light of the ghosties healing energy fading from Pepitos now healed wounds and… Pepitos fine, Pepito is already healed…. And no one, not even Pepito realize what just happened…
Theres gonna be some sick ass art of this I hope XD
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houseofoddballs · 3 months
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Loved and Lost
Based HEAVILY on @charliemwrites 1fur1 AU!! Recently fell in love with a dog that I can't have after reading through their "Woof Woof Johnny" things, and it absolutely tore me up inside because the sweet boy looked a lot like I imagined her Ghost boy to look. So you are given this. I poured a lot of that pain into this fic, and i hope you like it. (2,644 words)
They say that the more the loss hurts, the more you loved. Maybe that’s why you’ve cried yourself to sleep the past week, his favorite blanket clutched to your chest. “Grow up (Y/n), it’s just a dog.” Your sister had chided when she caught wind of the incident, your mother must have told her. She was never really an animal person.
A whiff of pin and gunpowder fills your nose, tantalizing you with the essence of that sweet dog who would sit patiently near you no matter where you were in the house. The fluff of the black blanket was soft, but nowhere near the dense fur of your cream colored good boy. If you closed your eyes, you could still see his face, his sweet sweet face. It didn’t matter what you were doing, those brilliant amber eyes were always trained on you, peeking up from the black skull-like patch of fur on his face. But he wasn’t yours anymore. Your Ghost had been wrenched away from you by the cruel jaws of fate, taken away from you in a horrible accident. It wasn’t abnormal for Ghost to disappear into the woods for a day or two at a time, but this time in particular was different.
You didn’t think anything of the way that Ghost sat in front of the door, blocking your exit stoically. A small huff of laughter pulled past your lips as you dropped to your knees and cupped your pooches face in your hands and went to place a gentle kiss on his fluffy forehead. Ghost wasn’t too keen on touch, preferring to initiate by laying on you or something, but in those rare moments where he did want affection he would express it by doing something like blocking your path like this. So imagine your surprise when he huffed and snapped his head to the side, pulling out of your hands like a pouting child. “Fine, have it your way big guy, but I still need to get to work.”
But he didn’t want that. He growled as you stood, His fur fluffing up as he also raised from his haunches to block your exit. He was adamant that you weren’t leaving. As much as you wanted to stay home with your pup, you were already going to be cutting it close to clocking in late. So, you tricked him. You walked into your room, closed him out, and climbed out your window. You were on the first floor, so it’s not like the drop was going to kill you. But you should have known better. As soon as your feet hit the ground, Ghost was there, growling with an unsaid threat.
He tried so desperately to get you to stay, you honestly felt so bad with the way that he chased your car well down the driveway and past. Your heart absolutely broke as you finally watched him give up through your rearview mirror, his chest heaving and his brown eyes looking so desperate as his figure grew smaller and smaller until he turned around and walked into the forest, his head hung low.
That was the last normal moment you spent with him. Brushing him to the side and heading to work. You wished you had just called out, or better yet, quit entirely. When you made your way home, it was with apology treats and even some new toys for enrichment (Even though Ghost had always preferred sticks to proper toys.) Pulling into your driveway, you hurriedly made your way inside, calling for your pup with a grin on your face. “Ghost! Ghost! I’m home!... baby boy?” You expected him to be laying on the couch or your bed pouting like he always did when he didn’t get what he wanted. But he was mysteriously absent. You shrugged it off, figuring that he was still in the forest doing whatever it was he did. You didn’t think anything when he was gone the next day either, chalking it up to you making him really mad. Ghost always knew how to hold a grudge, after all. It was the fourth and fifth days that began to drive you mad with worry. You had begun combing through the forrest until your legs were heavy and your throat was sore calling for Ghost, dreading the thought that maybe he was laying somewhere, hurt and alone. You didn’t dare entertain the thought that he might be dead. Finally, midway through the fifth day, a heavy knock came at your door. You must have looked a mess, heavy baggs under your eyes, sloppy unbrushed hair, still in your hiking clothes from yesterday. You opened the door to a strapping older gentleman with a kind face and an impressive set of chops. “Hello, mam. Is this the house of Miss (Y/n) (L/n)?”
His voice was kind, a british accent intertwining with his words like clouds in the sky. Any other day, you would probably be incredibly flustered by this attractive and muscular man ending up on your doorstep, but not today, not with Ghost gone. It just felt incomplete without him trying to push his furry head through the doorway to growl at the strange man. You had to swallow hard, biting back tears at the thought as you nodded your head. “Yes, that’s um- That’s me.” Your throat was too tight, voice too high, laced with too much stress and exhaustion.
A flash of remorse and regret passed over the mans face for a moment, and you definitely feared the worst. He cleared his throat and placed his hand in his pocket, pulling out a familiar leather strap with a silver buckle and silver tags. Your breath caught in your throat as a shaky hand reached out to gently brush against the collar. A whiff of pine and gunpowder caught in your throat, making you retract your hand to your chest so quickly as if you were burnt.
Tears flooded your eyes and down your cheeks as you let out a choked sob. “No, no, NO!” This couldn’t be happening, not Ghost. Not your sweet boy Who you couldn’t convince to get into bed with you at night, but you would wake up to him licking your face in the middle of the night as he laid on your chest. Not the big brute who would pull your dirty laundry into his bed while you were gone just because he missed you. Not your precious puppy who huffed and grumbled whenever you got the urge to have photoshoots because he was just such a gorgeous dog. Not your Ghost.
The man knelt down next to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder as he held the collar out to you once more, his voice deceivingly soft as it caressed your ears. “I’m sorry lass, he’s gone…”
Ghost sat in the back of a military vehicle, skull balaclava fit neatly over his face and covering the deep frown that pulled at his lips. Hybrids were never meant to find mates, it’s why they were supposed to be doped up with suppressants and kept away from normal society. They were the military’s bioweapons, nothing else. They weren’t people, they weren’t given the graces of normal lives, they didn’t get to enjoy life unless it was in the ridiculous way that Johnny seemed to milk joy from every part of their job to keep his spirits up. Simon almost forgot.
It was so easy to forget what kind of monster he was when your hands were so gentle, smoothing down and running through his fur so tenderly, cooing softly at him as you stared down at him with those big doe eyes of yours, humming softly as you filled his dish, surrounded by your comfort and scent, the comfort and scent of his mate.
His grip on his gun was especially tight, his teeth gritting as he imagined the devastation you were going to feel. He had fought tooth and nail against the entire squad to keep the collar, going as far as to challenge Price. But not even Ghost could hold his own in a fight against his squad and his alpha.
“Can ya’ believe the’re shippin us all the way to the bloody states? Downright mad lads.” Ghost shot a nasty glare at Johnny, making the poor boy practically wilt in place. Normally Ghost would be thankful for the distraction that Johnny provided, but not when he was being distracted from you. He could still remember the scent of your shampoo, the sound of your voice, the feel of your soft hands on his face as he ripped his head out of your grip. What he wouldn’t give for one last kiss right now. He had to bite back the tears that threatened to prick his eyes, a feeling so foreign that he couldn’t even remember the last time he cried.
He knew it was coming. It was all so perfect. He could leave during the day to meet up with the squad, go out on whatever stupid mission was required of them, whether it required the wolf or the man, and at the end of the day he would come back to you. He would come back to your soft giggles and your warm cuddles. He wasn’t the best at showing it, or the most affectionate, but god did he love you.
Turns out, they aren’t lying when they say one missed day is enough to knock medication out of your system. One day without his suppressants, and he had been drawn away from his pack formation by the most peculiar scent. Simon didn’t remember what he smelt like that day, but he remembered how it made him feel. Seeing you in the middle of the woods, humming so softly and sweetly to yourself through your earbuds, was like meeting god. His chest was suddenly tight, his knees almost too weak to hold him up, his heart thrumming in his chest, his fur bristling, a shiver running down his spine. He had to resist the urge to take off after you. But you were too sweet for him, too gentle, he would ruin you. So he turned away. Simon is nothing if not a man of patience and restraint, but walking away from you was the hardest thing in his life.
He had told himself that it was just not having the suppressants in his system that was driving him mad, that you were just a pretty girl and his instincts were reacting to the first female they found. But when he returned to base and felt no such thrumming in his heart or tightening in his drawers for any of the few females on base, he knew that it was more than instinct. Ghost stopped taking his suppressants after that. He would flush them down the toilet, throw them away, put them in his pillowcase, whatever it took to keep Price from finding out. Every day the pack would pass your house on their training regimen, just close enough that your scent could flood his nostrils and fill him with that shaky feeling of pure bliss. 
One day though, you found him. Simon could never forget the look of pure awe and adoration as you caught sight of him through the trees, slowly getting down on your knees and holding your hand out as you cooed. “Such a pretty puppy, oh my goodness. Who do you belong to?” And that was the final nail in Simon’s coffin. Sweet thing you were, smart too. You didn’t even make eye contact upon first meeting, a surefire way to challenge any other wolf. Not Simon though, he knew that you would never challenge him like that. 
When he returned to base that night, it was with a dopy grin under his skull balaclava, his hand absentmindedly over his heart. He had been careful to roll around in the dirt, scrubbing himself of any of your delicate scent. He made up some excuse to Price about disciplinary training, living in the wilds and whatnot. Whatever he had to say to stay with you.
God, it had been great. Getting to come home every night to you. Getting to relax on the couch with you, simply bask in your presence. You were like a goddess, his savior in this damned world. You would delight in playing with his paws that were almost as big as your tiny hands, completely unaware of how many lives they had crushed. You would let him lick at your face without the slightest idea of how many throats those jaws had ripped out mercilessly. You would change in front of him so peacefully, without the slightest idea that it was a man hungerly watching you. But Simon would never make a move. Even if you knew what he was. He didn’t deserve you, he couldn’t taint you with his filth. He was content to simply be with you, to exist with you, to bask in your presence as if it were the sun.
All it takes is one mistake.
“You wear perfume now Lt? Smells fuckin amazing, i’d rail ya smellin’ like that.” Soap’s teasing comment was easily brushed aside as one of his usual flirtatious remarks with no base, but the damage had already been done. Ghost had gotten complacent, used to having his cake and eating it too. So the one day that he didn’t fully cover your scent, of course a pack of male hybrids would notice. Simon made eye contact with Price from across the room, watching as he lifted his head and sniffed the air.
“Lieutenant. My office, now.” “Yes, sir.”
A deep sigh pulled from Price’s chest as he drug a hand down his face from his perch atop his chair behind his desk. Simon didn’t know what to expect, but he already had a million excuses ready on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for the signal to burst free. What he didn’t expect was for Price to reach into his drawer and pull out a plastic baggie of the little white pills that Simon had been decidedly not taking.
“Mind explainin’ why you’re clean fella?” A grunt. That was all Simon could muster. There was no reasonable excuse for that, and he knew it. Price’s eyes darkened with recognition as he gave a single curt nod. “That’s what I thought. You get one more night, Ghost.”
Simon’s eyes practically bulged out as he looked at Price, an obvious question in his gaze. Why? Price, ever vigilant, only sighed in response- the air leaving his lungs as if it were heavy and laden with history that Ghost could only imagine. “Say goodbye, son. You’re not gonna get another opportunity.”
This isn’t what Simon thought Price had meant. Moving the Task Force all the way to the bloody states. When you left for work that day, you took Simon’s heart with you. You surely didn’t even notice your favorite picture with your pup absent from it’s frame. A bitter chuckle left Ghost’s lips at the thought of how little you really saw about your environment. Even when Simon had been living with you as well as Ghost, you never noticed.
So as you laid in bed, sobbing your heart out and clutching his blanket close with one hand, the other hand so tight around the black leather strap what your knuckles were white; Simon was all too far away, pressing his chapped lips softly against the picture of you from a tiny cold cot in a base somewhere in america, trying not to do the same. He could picture your small frame, trembling as sob wracked through you and tore you up inside.
Why does loving something have to hurt so bad?
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the-apology-dance · 4 months
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MY TWO BRAIN CELLS JUST STARTED WORKING AND I NEED TO SHARE THIS.
The Bentley is parked outside the coffee shop the ENTIRE TIME Aziraphale and the Metatron were having that conversation Crowley nor the audience heard.
BUT OH BOY THERE COULD A HINT IN PLAIN SIGHT.
THE BENTLEY.
An EXTENSION of the man himself, who didn't hear what Azi talked about. It is parked outside of the shop called “Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death.”
Aziraphale was GIVEN coffee by the Metatron.
But nobody ever asks for death. Right?
That's because it would be GIVEN to them. Without a choice.
What I am saying is one person would be given death unknowingly without asking for it.
Crowley.
Metatron was going to kill the one thing he held dear. His connection to Aziraphale.
That conversation most likely included a death threat towards Crowley.
I could be wrong but it seems Aziraphale is going to be made to think Crowley is dead. Just as Crowley believed Aziraphale was in Season 1.
So the book shop went up in flames and Crowley believed it was hellfire….
What could be the one thing that could scare Aziraphale? Crowley and Holy Water.
Where did we see that? Oh yeah.
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IN THE BENTLEY.
Foreshadowing, perhaps? That Aziraphale will see what it feels like to lose Crowley via Holy Water inside something he knows he holds dear.
His Bentley.
Furthermore, if Crowley can FEEL what happens with The Bentley, does it know something Crowley doesn't? How would it get his attention? THE SONG IN THE CAR.
A reminder of Aziraphale. Trying to tell Crowley to go after him. Only until Crowley shuts off the radio.
Please let me know what you all think of the heartbreaking S3 theory…..i’m going to go cry now.
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Ahsoka’s status as a child soldier really hits home now huh. I mean, we all knew that’s what she was, partially because of how many memes are out there about it - but now those memes feel a lot less funny. Like she is a baby. That is a baby getting shot at, hearing bombs dropping, killing people, being hardened by the adults who forced her to fight. Both she and Hera were babies in one war, witnessed babies having to fight against the Empire, and are desperately trying to prevent the new babies (like Jacen) from having to go through the same trauma. And she’s now been saved from Anakin twice by the children of the next generations.
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arthursfuckinghat · 2 months
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You know he's getting worse when the fucking shopkeeper in Valentine has noticed Arthur's weight loss and told him to see a doctor, a SHOPKEEPER I have met a whole THREE TIMES seemingly cares more than Dutch
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excuseme-greentea · 7 days
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bobby nash said "I couldn't save my first family and I can't save you either" and I'm just supposed to go to sleep?!
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sweetestdesire · 3 months
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I will never fucking forgive Anaheim, Cutter, or Philadelphia for taking these two away from me, away from us. Why would they ever even think about separating these two and giving up one of their best defensemen? I’m in tears.
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r0ttingj3lly · 1 year
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I’m seriously in love with this man you have no idea.
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jounosparticles · 7 months
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bram wants to protect aya. he just met her yet he already cares so much for her safety and he’d rather be a pawn to fukuchi and the vampires if it keeps her from getting hurt. he sees his daughter when he looks at her. i’m so fuckinf sad. it’s been forever since he’s had actual people care about him and the first one who does is about to is risking her life and he can’t do anything to protect her despite wanting to. oh my god.
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loverboy-lover · 2 months
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hey guys, whatever you do, do NOT listen to these when you get to the part of the fic where regulus inevitably breaks up with james ruthlessly and lies to him because he wants/needs to protect him but james doesn’t know and is just heartbroken<3
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hypnoneghoul · 7 months
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this is tragic, I have to leave all of those bones behind I can only take a few with me😭
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randompoetemogirl · 3 months
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So I just realized something.
Runaan had to break his moon opal pendant to protect the assassins.
Callum broke Ethari’s to reveal the truth about Rayla’s parents.
Those pendants were forged out of love, and broken out of love. But more importantly, Ethari will probably make new ones when Runaan is freed.
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theinsatiables · 7 months
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Past Lives (2023) : Celine Song
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cocoafelix · 2 years
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“i think that you are looking for an extraordinary kind of love, but i don’t think, for what it’s worth, that you want to be loved in an extraordinary way. i think what you want is to be loved plainly and quietly, without spectacle or anxiety.”
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