#deconsecrated

[electronicsquid]

Girod Street Cemetery (filed under Gerard Street Cemetery)

(Robert W. Kelley. 1957)

[screenviolense-a]

         ‘ as much as i’d love to help you right now, arthur, i really can’t stay out much later right now. ‘ gwen would be hungry and crying in only a matter of time and if she was crying, there was even more of a chance someone would find her, which she couldn’t risk even for him. ‘ come back to my flat in the morning, i’ll see what i can do, i promise. ‘

@deconsecrated​ / back in the saddle again starter call.

[chantcftrials]

' commander, where'd you get your fur from? ' krem asks, trying to gesture as much as he can to the adorning fur around cullen's neck.

' fancy getting myself something like it for our northern travels — bull might be sturdy enough for the cold but not us tiny folk. nah, some of is prefer not to get frostbite. '

A reasonable request. It is not wise to travel unprepared to frosty lands.

"I wish I could help you. Unfortunately, my pauldron was given to me when I was appointed," his face twitches imperceptibly as he remembers Josephine mentioning a "slightly orlesian" design for his uniform, "but I suppose I could ask the Lady Ambassador, she'll know for sure."

The commander is a bit puzzled, however. Did not Krem come from Tevinter, a northern land renowned for its hot climate?

"Are you feeling quite alright, Kremisius?" he asked out of genuine concern, "you sound... confused..."

[phantomarchive]

Random asks are love incarnate!| @deconsecrated​ (with @soulcluster​ mentions obvs)​

the lady is back again in his life,  din had entrusted him wholly in her care  &  of her child,  winta.  he coos gently as he pursues winta with small, fragile legs — his speed merely half that of hers as a human.  still,  she cares and she waits when the distance grows too large—allowing him time to catch up so he doesn't grow despondent.  when her voice calls them both,  ears prickle at the sound of his name.

grogu !

breaking attention  &  focus from winta,  little legs hasten in pace as they sprint towards the tall woman,  arms held open wild as he coos as loudly as he can to make her notice him.  he wants so desperately to be picked up by her,  to be held in the only other pair of arms that have ever made him feel safe in this world.  he wants to feel the loving embrace of a mother,  she may not be that in blood — but with the way she softly says his name and whispers him sweet lullabies till he slumbers,  she is everything a mother is to him  &  that she shall be.

let this be all he knows from now on.

Omera is kept in the know regarding Grogu, Din sending her updates when he can, coming to see her now that the tracker is gone and the child won’t be followed or put in danger. As much as Omera would like to be able to go with him more often, back into space where she may yet still be a wanted petty criminal, she understands that it is safe for her, Winta, and, yes, Grogu here on Sorgan.

So it is with open arms she welcomes Din and Gorgu back, getting one evening with the Mandalorian before he has to leave for a time. She doesn’t know how long the child will be with her and Winta, and the selfish part of her hopes it will be for longer than before, that perhaps his (for all intents and purposes) father would choose to stay, as well. Maybe when her daughter is older, they can strike out into the galaxy again, but that is a thought for another time. Not today, not when things are so peaceful for Grogu.

Omera can’t help but smile as they all play, as Winta pauses to let Grogu catch up so they can keep playing together. Such a kind-hearted girl she’s raised. It’s a shame to call a stop to their games, but it’s nearly dinnertime.

“Winta! Grogu!” She calls to them with a smile, and there aren’t any groans of disappointment that they have to stop. They come running to her, Grogu toddling as quickly as his little legs will carry him, until he is close enough for her to sweep him up into her arms and hold him close. He coos and tucks himself closer, and between him and Winta and Din, she is a blessed woman and mother.

[mr-karlheinzstockhatso]

Fede Scalata.

Centro Storico di Eboli, Salerno 🎶 Korn - Word Up!

[cultivatxr]

@deconsecrated​​ ❤’d for a starter for John Wick. 

It’s another slow day as she sits on those weather beaten church steps, chipped concrete as inhospitable as ever as the minutes melted into hours. She’d thought it would be more exciting than this. Getting out into the real world, seeing something brighter and bigger than herself on a scale she could scarcely even imagine. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that maybe Midgar didn't have the monopoly on overbuilt industrialism. City after city, was much of the same. Scarce patches of greenery dotted only in the very heart of  a bustling metropolis. It was disheartening, if truth be told, she’d wanted so much to get out of a steel prison, and in essence, all she’d done was swap it for a new one. 

Hunger clawed at her stomach as she pushed aside her pessimism, the optimism for which she was famed once again taking root. ( Where would she go today? What corner of this unexplored city would she greet with the green fingered touch it so desperately needed? )  Aerith was lost in such thoughts when a damp nose nudged at her hand, an unexpected companion having arrived to provide both distraction and joy in equal measure. “Well aren’t you a cutie, hmm? Are you lost?” A soft lilt of a voice rolled from her lips as she scratched behind canine ears, paws brushing mud against pink cotton as the florist was rewarded in kind with a wet and sloppy kiss. 

Nose scrunching in amused distaste, playfully the brunette let her face rest against unfamiliar fur. “If you’re going to kiss a girl like that, you ought to buy them dinner first you know.” It’s a ridiculous tease at the best of times, perhaps even more so when given to a dog, but it gave her a chance to cast a curious look around the densely populated streets, hoping if nothing else, to catch a glimpse of an owner, before she adopted her new found friend herself. 

[soulcluster-moved]

@deconsecrated​ / reaver — sc.

“What brings you to Kirkwall?”

[reclusivebeings]

The making of a face mask completely reconstructed from a white Reebok sneaker and repainted with Angelus shoe paint @reebok @reebokclassics