#this is...bad...

[the-walking-spoiler]

if taliesin jaffe ever dies sam riegel will be the cause

[fakexface]

I hope y'all liked chapter 16

Because chapter 17 is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE.

[enspectorn]

THE RAIN IS VISCOUS TONIGHT, IT CAME WITH TEETH & CLAWS TO TEAR AT EVERYTHING. her jacket is water logged  &  hanging loose, heavy from her arms. the drone of the holo’s  &  the sound of the rain have melded into one static hovering at the back of the mind of akane tsunemori. her senses have sharpened  &  the  hound hovers just beneath the surface, waiting, seeting, its muscles bunched & ready to pounce on the scent of pray. 

whisky eyes pivot , her expression is fiercely set, brows wrinkled in concentration, neon light only serves to highlight the dark shadows gathered beneath her eyes.         “     so  you’re  the  new  enforcer  .     “     

@feralot

[spitfircs]

@crvores sent me 😡 for an angsty starter

The castle grounds had been dusted with a FLURRY of ivory snow, as pure as Scorpius’s hair. Somewhere, under layers of thickened skin, her inner mistletoe sprite roused from deep slumber, giddy like a schoolgirl at the prospect of a white Christmas. It was like another lifetime ago, those treasured holidays of rowdy snowball fights and enthusiastic rounds of off-key carols and savory hot chocolate by the fireplace. Everything had deteriorated, and as she stood in the white, white courtyard, she couldn’t help but feel haunted by the Ghost of Christmas Past. It would never be the same again, no matter how much she yearned to turn back, to be a callow and bright-eyed child enraptured by the yuletide spirit again. But this was much more than growing pains -- this was the goddamn zombie apocalypse. 

At the very least, Lily was grateful to still have her extensive family with her, whole and intact like the SURVIVORS they had proven to be, time and time again. She was all too aware that not everyone could be so lucky. Scorpius was a stark reminder of just how much a person could lose. The daughter of war heroes, Lily had never been a stranger to death touching family, but even now, she was far from desensitized to grief. She could wish on every shooting star for the rest of her life, but Draco Malfoy would never return. Scorpius had to live with his ghosts, and there was nothing Lily could do for him but be there. So that was what Lily vowed to do. They shared a hapless kinship -- both Lily and Scorpius had both been forced to murder a loved one after the virus stole the irises from their eyes, turning them white and cloudy. She would never forget the image of Clara after the glamour faded, what little was left of her best friend in the end. It would always haunt her nightmares. And that was why the two had made a pact: if either of them was too far gone, if either of them was ever about to turn into one of those...those things, it was the other’s responsibility to ensure that didn’t happen.

Lily gave her friend a once-over, her dark eyes narrowing. “You’re still abusing the sleeping draughts.” she noted, shaking her head. She was beginning to wonder if she should arrange for some sort of intervention. “--how bad has it gotten, Scor? The...the aching?” Her voice had softened to a whisper, not sure what to call it. “It doesn’t feel like Christmas.”