#event2

[buddienetwork]

crackpot theory? more like crockpot theory, am i right, fellas? (insp)

in conjunction with @buddienetwork event two - remixt 2

[eddiediaznetwork]

EDDIEDIAZNETWORK - EVENT 2: headcanons

eddiediaznetwork is excited to announce our second event: headcanons.

this event will run throughout june!

to participate: 🌟 reblog this post 🌟create something that fits this month’s prompt 🌟caption your post with: @eddiediaznetwork​ event: headcanons 🌟 don't forget to tag us so we can reblog you

feel free to message us if you have any questions about the event. we’re excited to see what you create! and if you would like, join the network.

[folliesofmiceandmen]

location: a shrine of the children of mothman for: anyone

she doesn't handle things well. she's organized, but disoriented, careful, but too much care can falter her in analysis paralysis. something terrible has happened, and she can't quite place what to do or how to handle it, but going back to the ranch right now feels like retreat, when she could find some way to help. or make herself useful. she isn't skilled in ways that people might find useful. she isn't a medical professional, is bad enough at bandaging her own wounds.

her only other option is to pray, though she isn't sure what she's praying for. safety? a quick recovery for those effected? some sign that this was the grand design? it's a jumble in her mind as she sits on her knees, eyes closed. she's meditating more than praying. the quiet only interrupted by distant sounds...

... until the snap of a branch alerts her to company. her hackles are up, but she's careful not to immediately jump to defense. after all, she's trained better than that. she can move quickly enough to be out of danger, if it arises, and if she can't, then she hasn't truly earned her place beside her speaker.

"it's rather rude to interrupt someone's prayer, you know." her voice is a calm contrast to the turmoil in her, the fear bubbling somewhere in the pit of her stomach at the unknown. "unless you're here to join me?"

[userphotoshop]

Happy Pride Month! This month, our creations event will revolve around LGBT+ pride across works of fiction.  Make any type of visual content, such as gifs, graphics, or art, that fits the theme.

TO PARTICIPATE.

Join the network if you haven’t already Reblog this post Make an original visual creation that fits the theme Caption your creation with       @userphotoshop​ event 2 | pride Tag us with #userphotoshop

Don’t hesitate to contact us if you have any questions, and happy creating!

[starizhu]

who: @mackenziegthomas

where: stari's room

what: in which stari needs a hug

stari: you want to help so bad, come find me

It hadn't been consciously meant as a challenge, but Stari would be lying if she said that wasn't what it was. She hated asking for help, it was like admitting defeat. Or at least like admitting that she really was just as small and scared and alone as she felt. So she wouldn't do that. If someone wanted to help, they could help, but she wasn't going to beg for it.

Another thing she wasn't ready to admit was the kind of help she needed. She'd gotten good at asking for food or drugs or other necessities, but right now... that wasn't what she wanted.

What she wanted now was confusing, though, because after so many endless days and nights of being left alone and not touched - by her own request - all she wanted now... pathetic as it was... was a hug.

And it was just as she was thinking this that there was a knock on the door of the room she shared with Charlie when he wasn't out, pacing and fretting like all the wealthy people were now.

She opened the door, and managed a sheepish smile.

"Told you I wouldn't make it too hard..."

[inscribedwords]

War Cries

For @revolutionarywriters event 2 (August 2020)

Prompt : a set of priceless jewels, a makeshift group of thieves, a plot to start a war

tw death, tw war, tw blood

Shaking hands, trembling mouths, stuttering words were often said to happen when you were scared. He had never believed it to happen in the real life. 

His moment of glory had come when he had gotten the letter. The letter he had been waiting for, since months. The letter had spelled out his future. His destiny.

 He had heard the tales of The Vicious War. People had died left and right. People had killed their enemies viciously and brutally. Without any remorse.

It had been ten years since.

The rivalry is still there. The hatred is still there.

All of the deaths had been for just a set of jewels. But they were the jewels.

The story leads back to the origin of the two kingdoms, Orden and Violetley. When the founders of both had found a number of jewels in the land in the middle of the kingdoms and decided to divide it equally to support the people of their kingdom. Everything had been well for thirty years, until it was found that the new ruler of Violetley had wasted most of the jewels and had realized that when they had been left with enough resources to wage a war which led them to the decision of causing a surprise war at Orden and taking their jewels would be the way to Violetley’s lost glory. A stupid decision by a unworthy king. 

It was Violetley’s luck that they had won the war. And the stupid decision was now considered  and praised as strategy.

Now, fueled with revenge and restored with resources, after ten years, they were going to steal back what belonged to them.

After ten years, Orden will get a chance to get what always belonged to them.

Several people had joined. Some to find an ambition for a period of time. Some to avenge those who died in the previous war. And some to leave the miserable lives they had at towns they lived in.

They all were ready for the war that was bound to follow up. 

The plan was to distract the crowd the kingdom of Violetley with a war as the group of twelve people sneaked into the castle from a tunnel underneath built in the dead of the night since months by the spies living in shadows there.

Now when they were in the castle, the silence surrounded them. Even a slight sound could have caused an echo, it seemed. When they were almost at the chamber of the jewels, a wave of sounds of footsteps flooded through the walls. The sounds from the wall threw them off their plan and they all stood for a while before realizing what was about to happen. 

Soldiers came in through a hidden passage in the walls. Ambushing them. Blood spilled on the ground. It was twelve- now eight- against fifty soldiers.

Orden had not considered the fact that they could have a spy in the mindset of their organisation too. The only flaw in the plan.

No one noticed how the traitor had got a slightly different letter. No one had noticed how slyly the traitor got involved into the center of all the major work of the organisation. No one had noticed how close the traitor had gotten to the people that he spent the nights with a battling heart. No one noticed anything amiss.

 As he saw the bloodshed around, he moved to the sides.

He had known that there will never be a forgiveness for him, or a more severe punishment than seeing the realization shine into the eyes of his allies and friends as they bled out.

He had known this was going to happen. He had known that his new made -and only - friends might die today. He had made it happen. He had become the savior of Violetley and the traitor of Orden and a murderer of his friends. All in a single minute. 

His steps staggered as he moved backwards and felt a wall behind him. He could see people falling down to their deaths. His thoughts repeating the same words as if they were embedded in his mind, “What had he done?” 

But he still did nothing as the war cry bellowed out through the windows.None of the soldiers outside fighting even knew that they had already lost the battle they were getting ready to shed their blood for. He slid down the wall he had been leaning on and tried to calm his pounding heart.

It felt to him as if the war cries that bellowed out were screaming out “Traitor! Traitor!” in the voice of his friends, even though he knew it was just his imagination. He couldn’t think outside of the blood of friends flowed on the floor, as if they meant to capture him. He just couldn’t think. His breath came short. His fingers were shaking.  

All he knew was that he was never going to be the same again.

I don’t know if you guys wanna be tagged to this but I’m gonna need some validation, even though this is real bad, so here we go!

Taglist @dil-toh-pagal-hai @slytherclaw-lair @emma-carstairs-herondale @immortal-enemies @purplebass @dot-eli-mary @bazsnow @an-awkward-nerds-world @themostawesomehuman @stavromula-beta

[breakingisabella]

@twilightnet event | favorite quotes

“more fiercely than i would have dreamed i was capable of, i wished for the green, protective forests of forks…of home.”

[ancientandwise]

"my my~ that's certainly not what I expected form you of all people Wesley." He playfully tugged on the costumes skirt. "Kind of of ironic is it not?" He teased.

@fcrgttnxx