Guess who's gonna ignore all their math homework to rewatch the Thor movies just because the parliamentary commission of inquiry ended earlier today?
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हाई वोल्टेज करंट लगने से पेड काट रहा मजदूर झुलसा
हाई वोल्टेज करंट लगने से पेड काट रहा मजदूर झुलसा
कैराना के गांव भूरा में पेड काटने गया था मजदूर
जनवाणी संवाददाता |
कैराना: बुधवार को गांव गोगवान निवासी मजदूर इमरान उर्फ माना गांव भूरा में मजदूरी पर पेड़ काटने के लिए गया था। इसी दौरान विद्युत पोल की एंगल से टच हाई वोल्टेज विद्युत लाइन का करंट लगने से मजदूर बुरी तरह झुलस गया। मजदूर को उसके साथी सामुदायिक स्वास्थ्य केंद्र कैराना पर लेकर पहुंचे जहां से उसे रैफर कर दिया गया। एंबुलेंस की इंतजार में…
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happy birthday ray!! ( ft. @bloodxhound )
For her co-worker (bully)’s birthday, she made him paper crocs using the Moozilla paper he gave her- just kidding! Actually, Suki made him a sized-down version of the SET of his favorite TV show...now PAPER MOOZILLA has a proper hunting ground. And the best part is that it’s all free of charge!
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So, I think it's time I finally started writing for the Maze Runner fandom! I'll be taking any requests, I'll add a lil list of what I will and will not write just below. Send in anything you want while abiding guidelines!
what I do write
any of the tmr characters
what I won't write
basically anything overly dirty
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@first-son-of-finwe while I completely understand where the viewpoint in this post:
comes from, to the point where I dont want to derail it, I also think there's something profoundly sad about the movie's way of ending the story.
Its not really like the movie goes the route of so many other movies and goes "and they all went home and lived happily ever after the end.", Frodo comes home to a shire that basically moved on without him and can't find the healing and security in it like he used to.
He feels out of place in it to the point where he leaves it permanently, in hopes of finding the healing it can't offer.
Idk its almost 6 am and I just woke up so I have no idea if I'm getting my point across but while I get that the actual scorching of the shire is a visual representation of Frodo's inner struggle I think the movie did a pretty amazing job at portraying a feeling of like "my home hasnt changed, I have, to the point where it no longer feels like my home."
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I tired playing titanfall 2 again and the scorch main on my team said "You play so poorly that you probably have a stable life, good family, get good grades, and have a girlfriend!" And as a former scorch main and gamer that cut deeper then me seeing Roach and Ghost die.
I am live on Twitch
Summary: Newt thinks Thomas has forgotten it's his birthday, because he doesn't say anything all day. But later that night Newt finds out why he hasn't said anything.
Genre: sooooo fluffy
(I originally made this on Thomas Brodie-Sangster’s birthday)
When Newt woke up he noticed an empty spot next to him, which was unusual because Thomas usually took hours to get out of bed.
As he sat up more, he could smell pancakes, mixed with a bit of syrup. He was intrigued, Thomas rarely ever cooked. But when he checked his phone he saw the date, and muttered a quick 'oh'.
It was his twenty-fourth birthday, and he had nothing planned. He was hoping Thomas would throw something secretly, but he didn't want to seem self centered.
He got up and went downstairs, and saw Thomas sitting at the table on his phone. In front of him were two plates of pancakes, two cups of juice and and some syrup.
Newt smiled as he sat down, making Thomas look up from his phone.
"Good morning; sleeping beauty." Thomas laughed, referring to Newt's bed hair and pajamas which consisted of a big shirt and some boxers.
"Shut up." Newt said as he took a sip of his juice, waiting for Thomas to say something about his birthday.
"I made them with blueberries, I know that's your favorite kind." Thomas said, as he took a bite of his pancakes.
"Thank you. Why'd you do all this?" Newt asked, hoping to hear what he wanted.
"Oh I don't know, just felt like it." Thomas said, taking another bite of his pancakes.
Newt was a little taken aback, but maybe he was overreacting. He had just woken up.
But as their conversation went on, Thomas hadn't said anything. He couldn't have forgotten, could he? No, he always remembered. Last year he gave him his present first thing in the morning, which were tickets to a band they both loved. Newt was so excited, and Thomas was too. And the year before that, when they weren't dating yet, Thomas had bought him a designer jacket he had been talking about for months.
But this year, nothing had been said, or done. Newt tried to shake the thought out of his head, but it was still in the back of his mind.
It was now late afternoon, and Thomas hadn't said anything about his birthday. All they've done so far was sit on the sofa and watch their favorite show, Newt laying on top of Thomas.
"Are we doing anything with Minho and them tonight?" Newt asked, hoping this would determine if Thomas knew or not.
"Not that I know of, why would we?" Thomas asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"I'm just wondering." Newt whispered, turning back to the tv. He felt upset, could Thomas actually have forgotten? He felt a bit of hurt in his chest, but decided it wasn't a big deal. Just his boyfriend of two years, friend of five forgetting his birthday.
He tried so hard not to focus on it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. How could Thomas forget? He was talking about Newt's birthday a few days ago, he knew it was today. But he hadn't said anything at all. He treated today like any other day, which it apparently was to him.
The sun was starting to set, and Thomas kept checking his watch. They had done almost nothing besides sit around, only getting up to use the toilet or grab a snack.
Newt couldn't help but be offended, for Thomas's birthday he gave him a beautiful promise ring, and took him out to dinner.
And Thomas had done nothing. Newt was frustrated, so he went upstairs to try and sleep the night away.
He felt himself fall asleep, but was only half asleep. He probably was in that state for twenty minutes, before he was shaken awake by Thomas. He slowly opened his eyes, and Thomas was wearing a black dress shirt, black trousers, and his hair was more neat than usual. Newt raised a confused eyebrow, but Thomas just pulled him up.
"Get dressed." Thomas ordered, making Newt pout at him.
"Just do it. Do it quickly too." Thomas said, before leaving the room and going downstairs. Newt was left confused as all hell, but got dressed anyway.
When Newt came downstairs, he saw Thomas tapping his foot, which was something he only did when he was nervous. Newt was beyond confused, but replaced the confusion with frustration.
Firstly Thomas had forgotten his birthday, and now he was acting weird and telling him to get dressed.
Suddenly Thomas grabbed Newt's hand, and dragged him out the door. They went to the car, and Thomas opened the door for Newt. Newt let out a small smile, Thomas had done that since they were in uni.
The ride was mostly silent, until Thomas broke the silence.
"Are you okay?" He asked, though he should be asking the same question to himself.
Newt nodded, even though that wasn't accurate.
"What's wrong?" Thomas asked, earning an angry glare from Newt.
"What's wrong? I don't know, maybe the fact that you don't even know what's wrong!" Newt snapped, crossing his arms.
"Can you please just tell me?" Thomas pleaded, placing the hand he wasn't using to drive with on Newt's thigh.
"It doesn't even matter." Newt sighed, looking out the window.
A few minutes later Thomas parked the car into a small area by the forest, and got out of the car. He walked around and opened the door for Newt, and Newt hesitantly got out.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Newt asked, and Thomas replied by grabbing his hand. Thomas started pulling him into the woods, making Newt feel a little anxious.
"Are you going to murder me Tommy?" Newt laughed, only half joking. Thomas shook his head, continuing to go deeper into the forest before he found a clearing.
The place was quite beautiful, lit up by the moon and had many flowers growing in it. As Thomas made him go closer, he noticed a big blanket, and a box.
Thomas sat down and patted the spot next to him, and Newt sat down.
"Can you tell me why you brought me here?" Newt asked, trying to cover confusion with sarcasm.
"Can you tell me why you're upset?" Thomas replied, making Newt roll his eyes.
"Maybe because you forgot my bloody birthday!" Newt said, making Thomas laugh a little.
"What is funny?" Newt asked, before his hand was grabbed by Thomas.
"Lay down." Thomas ordered, and Newt complied. Thomas followed not long after, and pointed to the sky.
Newt looked to where Thomas was pointing, and noticed tons of meteors in the sky, shooting across. Newt smiled, it looked amazing.
He looked over at Thomas, who happened to be looking at him. Thomas was smiling softly in adoration, cheeks highlighted by the moon. His eyes were filled with love, and anybody with eyes could see that.
Newt smiled back, and looked back up at the sky. There were probably dozens of shooting stars, going long distances.
"Newt?" Thomas asked, making Newt turn to him.
"Happy birthday. I love you so fucking much it literally hurts. You're so fucking beautiful, I literally love you so fucking much-"
Thomas was interrupted by Newt tackling him with a kiss, making Thomas laugh a little into the kiss.
When Newt pulled away, he looked back down at Thomas, who basically had hearts in his eyes.
"I love you Tommy." Newt said, falling back over to where he was previously laying down. There were less stars now, slowly fading away.
"Do you remember, when we met in class that one day, and we went out with Minho? And he took that picture of us?" Thomas asked, biting his lip a bit.
"Of course I do. When we went to the amusement park!" Newt laughed, easing Thomas's nerves a bit.
"Do you remember him saying he lost that picture?" Thomas asked, to which Newt nodded.
"Well, he found it." Thomas said, grabbing the box and sitting up. Newt sat up next to him.
Thomas handed Newt the box, and he opened it. When he looked inside, he felt the same butterflies he had felt when they met.
It was a small gold locket, and inside was the picture from the day they met. Newt smiled like an idiot, covering his blush with his hands.
Thomas took his hands off of his face, and turned over to kiss him. Newt kissed back for a second, before he felt Thomas pull away a bit. He gestured to the box, asking Newt to pick it up.
He pulled it out of the box, and held it up. He handed it to Thomas, and turned to the side a bit, silently telling Thomas to put it on him. Thomas did, and turned Newt back around.
"I love you Newt. So fucking much. Happy birthday." Thomas gushed, pulling Newt into a hug.
"You already said that Tommy. I love you too." Newt laughed, hugging Thomas with all the strength he had.
"Did you genuinely think I forgot your birthday?" Thomas asked, pulling away from the hug.
"Yes! You didn't say anything all day. I was so mad." Newt said, jokingly punching Thomas in the arm. Thomas laughed, before speaking;
"Baby. You know I would never forget that. I'm sorry for pretending but I needed you to be very surprised." Thomas said, making Newt make a fake angry face at him.
"You succeeded." Newt said, before leaning in to kiss Thomas. This kiss was more passionate, more than a peck. Thomas's hands were around his waist, and his were connected behind Thomas's neck.
Thomas pushed him back to the ground, before kissing him even harder.
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In the Long Run
Based on this request: “An AU where Newt is immune to the Flare. The female reader ended up in the Glade shortly after Alby and Newt. She became a runner/ the third-in-command, and she and Newt started dating.”
Were it not for the oppressive misery of getting up this early in the morning, you’re pretty sure that your job as a Runner would be the best thing in the entire Glade. It already is, to be honest. You don’t have to slog around bricks and planks with the Builders, or work all day as a Track-Hoe. Instead, you get to explore every corner of the Maze, enjoying the title and preeminence of such an important job. The only downside, other than the chance of getting killed by the Grievers, is that you have to wake up at this ungodly hour of the morning.
You start to sit up, stretching. A shape moves beside you, barely visible in the lingering darkness of dawn. You can’t help but smile as you glance down at your boyfriend, who’s glaring at you petulantly. “I appreciate you putting in all this effort into your job, love, but do you really have to get up this early?” You laugh quietly, careful to keep your voice down so as not to wake the other Gladers. “Afraid so, Newt.”
Newt groans, rubbing a hand over his still bleary face. “I mean, I think you could sleep in at least a little longer. Would being one hour late really kill you?” You widen your eyes in mock horror. “Absolutely. My heart rate is already slowing at the thought of it.” You go to slide out of your hammock, but Newt slides an arm around your waist, keeping you trapped beside him. You push at his arm, but he doesn’t budge. “Newt, you have to let me go.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if already asleep. “Can’t hear you. I’m too tired.”
You give up, lying back against the hammock with a grin. “You’re impossible.” Newt smiles, the movement slow in the early morning light. “Maybe.” His arm relaxes infinitesimally, so you take advantage of this slight lapse to twist out of his grip and jump to the ground. He reaches back for you, but it’s too late and you’re already out of his range. He frowns at you balefully. “If you loved me, you would sleep in with me.”
You just laugh again, pressing a kiss to his cheek before starting off across the Glade. “Afraid not, Newt. You know the rules. I’ll see you later.” He waves a bleary goodbye before collapsing back against the hammock. You let yourself treasure this one glimpse of the blond boy, hair messy from the night’s sleep, then start walking again. Frypan’s set out an early breakfast for the Runners, and you grab your meal before meeting up with Minho, Ben, and the others.
You’ve been given your own section of the Maze to run today, so after exchanging a couple of brief words with the other Runners, you take off down the twisting corridors. It’s hard not to feel claustrophobic during these first few steps, when you’re still shaking off the last vestiges of sleep and all you can see are the looming walls of the giant labyrinth. However, you’ve been a Runner for years, longer than any other. If you were ever hesitant to enter the Maze, that fear would have left you long ago.
You can still remember the panic of your first month, back when the Glade was hardly home to a scant few boys. Back then, the only Gladers were Alby, Newt, yourself, and a couple of other unlucky shanks who’d managed to get themselves stuck here like the rest of you. You’re the unofficial third in command- not elected by the rules of the Glade, but widely accepted as a voice of reason. When you’ve been in the Glade for as long as you have, people tend to listen when you have something to say.
You were also one of the first Runners to ever enter the Maze. It had been you, Newt, and Minho for a long time, until you watched the hope bleed out of the blond boy’s eyes and he had thrown himself from the walls. He had readily accepted a position as a Track-Hoe after that, when his leg stopped its fight, and none of you ever brought it up again. You can see this haunted look in his eyes, sometimes, when he watches you emerge from the Maze a little later than usual. He’s terrified to lose you to the same Maze that nearly claimed him.
In truth, he hadn’t had you when he had jumped from the walls. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Newt in your life until it seemed like he might be taken from you. Standing in a corner of the Med-Jack hut, watching Newt struggle against survival, was one of the worst terrors you had ever experienced, and you had come face to face with a Griever on more than one occasion. When he healed enough to walk the earth of the Glade once more, you’d sworn to yourself that you would stay with him, never let him leave you like he almost had during the fall. Apparently, he’d had the same thought, as he’d told you he loved you not soon after that.
It had been a grateful night after a long and tiring day. It was sometimes hard to stay motivated about mapping the Maze when your favorite boy wasn’t there to run it with you, although you couldn’t blame him for switching roles in the Glade. He could be a Slicer for all you cared, just as long as he stayed alive and happy, that same smile still present in his glances your way. That was all that truly mattered.
It was a Greenie day again, and Gally had already taken it upon himself to oversee the lighting of the campfire, pass around his questionable brew, and beat the lights out of the Glade’s latest arrival. Newt sat beside you, leaning up against a log someone had rolled there a few hours earlier. You’d glanced over at him, unable to stop your eyes from catching on him, and felt a slow roll in your stomach to notice that he was already looking at you.
His gaze was soft, almost familiar, the way your hands trace a scrap of silk or the last few fine things you have in the Glade. The light from the roaring bonfire cast golden sparks upon his hair, his eyes, his smile. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to say something or not at all, just letting the moment hang here before you like a mobile. In the end, he was the first one to speak, voice slightly uneasy as if no amount of silent repetitions in his head could make him truly unafraid to say what he must.
“I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot. Probably more than I should.” He stops there, hesitating. Then, after taking a glance around the campfire to make sure no one is watching him, he leans forward and kisses you. You freeze for a second, unbelieving, then kiss him back. Minho notices after a while, as he always does, and directs the other Gladers to let loose with the usual whoops and hollers that friends always seem to cherish. You’d laughed at that, as had Newt, and he’d kissed you again just to spite them.
Ever since then, he had become your rock, the one person you could look to when times were rough. And rough times, indeed, became even rougher and darker than before. Teresa arrived at the Glade, and you’d been excited to finally have another girl to talk to, but she’d brought with her the seeming end of days. The doors to the Maze didn’t close, and the Grievers reduced the Glade to broken buildings and a collection of corpses.
When you have the opportunity to leave the Maze, you take it. What else would you do? You run with Newt down the same corridors you’d once mapped together. You can’t help but glance over at him, wondering if returning to the Maze reminds him of the day he’d wanted to end it all, but if he thinks of it too he gives no sign of it. As it turns out, you won’t have much time for philosophical thinking- a swarm of Grievers awaits you at the exit, teeth snapping and jaws glistening. You fight beside him, and cannot help but hope that at least he will make it out. Maybe you won’t, but as long as he gets his shot to live, it will be alright with you.
Newt, however, is utterly unwilling to let you die. He makes sure you survive the Maze, pulling you through the exit even as the Grievers lunge at you. You escape WICKED with him, too, trading in the sterile strangeness of the white-walled labs for the neverending sands of the Scorch. It’s hard to stay alive here, even harder than it was in the Glade. At least then you had some sort of respite, a chance for the Doors to close and untroubled sleep to wash over you. Here, the dangers never stop coming- WICKED is following you, Cranks appear from every corner of the desert.
Now you sit in a crumbled wreck of a building, back leaning up against the faded concrete. Newt sits next of you, both staring out across the shifting sands before you. This ruin isn’t much, but it’s the best protection you’ll have in the Scorch. Thomas, Minho, and the others are arrayed in various places throughout the building, doing their best to get some rest before you head out in the morning. You sigh, the sound trailing through the desiccating room. “Never thought I’d say it, but I kind of wish we were back in the Glade.”
Newt frowns slightly, turning to you. “Why do you think that?” You gesture listlessly at the destruction around you, taking in the faint sounds of screams from Cranks a couple of miles away. “I thought when we made it out of the Maze we could have time to be normal people again, and not have to deal with life or death situations all the time. At least then it was easy, you know? Just us trying to find a way out.” Newt tilts his head, acknowledging this. “Maybe we’ll find a better life after this. Thomas thinks we can find the Right Arm, right? There’s got to be at least one good spot on this planet, and they might be able to take us to it.”
You look over at him. “Do you really believe him? Do you think we’ll be able to let the good times roll after all?” Newt chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’m willing to look, though.” You nod, snuggling in closer to him. “That sounds good to me.”
As it turns out, Newt’s hopes are right. You end up finding the Right Arm, along with some girls from Group B of WICKED’s Maze experiments. They tell you secrets of a place far away, an island where no Cranks or hostile laboratory groups can find you. You look at Newt across your intertwined hands, see the same hope reflected in his eyes. You’re both Immune, as declared by WICKED during your brief stay there, so you might be able to make it there so long as you both manage to stay alive. It’s no easy task, as proved by literally any day of your remembered life, but you’re ready to do it with him.
In the end, it is real, all of it. You watch as Chicago, one of the last hopes of a quarantined humanity, crumbles, buildings falling to fire and destruction as the Right Arm takes down WICKED once and for all. You choke back tears, watching friends suffer from the Flare. One of the Gladers you’d known well, a Runner like yourself, begs Thomas to kill him so he won’t have to go through with the hopeless insanity. Newt pulls you close, forcing your eyes away from the body of your friend. You can’t help but feel silent waves of gratitude that he’s safe, that you’re both safe. What would you do without him?
Thomas mourns Teresa, you mourn Alby and all the others. You’ll have a place for that, though, as the island of the Right Arm’s deepest dreams turns out to be a utopian reality. For the first few days that you’re there, you can’t shake the neverending desire to lie down and never get up again. You’ve lost so much over the months and years, and there are so many friends whose names are carved into the memorial stone Minho found that you’ll never see again.
However, you still have Minho, Frypan, Thomas, Gally, and the others. Brenda and Jorge are here too, as with Aris and the Group B girls. Most importantly, you still have Newt. He looks for you when you don’t get up in the mornings, and brings you wildflowers he finds around the island. He doesn’t press you to take too large a part in the structure of life here, remembering what it was like after he jumped from the walls of the Maze.
In the end, you join him in shaping the future of the island, organizing workers and Immunes as if they’re just more Gladers to follow the rules you, Alby, and Newt had set years ago. The work is good, and it reminds you of the promises you’d made to Newt under the starry skies of the Glade and the sun-streaked sands of the Scorch. You’ll make it out, you always will. For now, you have a home, a boyfriend who loves you. It may not be a paradise you’d hoped for in the Maze, but it’s good, and you’re safe with Newt. In the end, that is everything.
requested by @thornyrose463
tmr tag list: someone who’s hotter than the scorch @underc0vercryptid
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i'd rather ship thomas with a griever than with theresa and i hope that says a lot about who i am as a person <3
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Title: Scorched Earth: The Heat
Pairing/character: Dr Strange, Reader/The Bold One
Summary: “I think I killed someone.”
Notes: This is the third part of what’s shaping up to be a legit series - 1st is FrostBitten, 2nd HoarFrost Hel - and the masterlist is here. The story on whole is gonna be very dark, this piece - which occurs about a few days after the last Dr Strange one - has references of violence/death. For consistency and length, it gets a “Read More”.
Stephen spends his off time researching, trying to find any scientific diagnosis and treatment for your ailment. Ailments. He did not admit it, not even to himself, but looking back he remembers your cold. Even in the heat of passion, your skin chilled his. This implies biological, not psychological, disturbances.
“Mm.” He looks up. “Yes?”
“You’ve a phone call...”
From you, he’s a phone call from you. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks over and over as sobs come across the line.
“I...I don’t...” You shake in the corner of your room, trying to recall time. Make sense of the blood and the body in the bed. “Oh god, Stephen, I...” For once the cold that blooms in your stomach is welcome, seeming to cool and calm. You take a deep breath. “I think I killed someone.”
“You what?” He’s up, with nowhere to go. “What do you mean? How...?” The questions race through his mind, but can’t seem to get past his lips.
Another deep breath. “I tried to reset things, but nothing changed. I...must’ve done it a while ago.”
He finally finds something to do, close the office door. “Where are you?”
“Still in Vegas.” Though you have to go to the window to confirm. “I don’t know where the others are, maybe they left?”
“But you’re not in a hotel?” Good, that was good. It gave you some time, at least.
“No, I’m on the compound.”
You sigh, walk back to your corner. “It doesn’t matter, I just...I should go.”
"No, I -” What? Strange asks himself, then sighs. “You should call the police.”
“Turn myself in?” No fucking way. You can’t afford the risk, not with how time worked - or didn’t - with you. Mutants, any anomalies, were not looked on fondly these days. Certainly not after Loki.
Strange goes to the computer. “You don’t know what happened, correct?”
“Y-Yes.” It was all a blur of lost time.
“Then maybe you didn’t do anything, maybe you were defending yourself, you don’t know. I’ll find you a lawyer where you are, okay?”
“N-No, I...I’ll find one.”
“I’ll come out myself the moment I’ve time.”
It sounds like a lie, or at least something he can’t possibly follow through on, but then you just lied to him. “Yeah, all right.”
“You’ll call them? The police?”
“And a lawyer, yeah.”
“Good...” After a few more reassurances Stephen hangs up and, the moment he does, you begin to rush around to pack.
You try to remember what happened, but only recall glimpses, fractions. They’d confronted you: O and Jadira first, then Mastermind and Catch. It got ugly with Catch. Had it been self-defense? Maybe you should turn around, turn yourself in like Stephen said. But what of the others? You hadn’t even looked - if they were alive, they could turn on you and, if they weren’t...what was the defense then?
Out of Las Vegas, out of Nevada, you drive without end. Without destination, except for “away”. Time unravels like a frayed sweater without Catch as your anchor. You recall wiping out and tossing your phone, freezer-burning a man’s wandering hand in a bar outside Reno...stopping cops in their approach near Carson City...Countless hours of driving, seemingly without sleep.
In reaching California you find enough peace to settle, collect your thoughts. With effort you are able to regain some control over time, focusing as the Club taught you. It allows you to lose only hours instead of days. Not enough to start a life, but enough to live. You think to call Stephen, but unsure he won’t turn you in, isn’t already working with the police, you don’t. You change your appearance, think of what to do, where to go, next.
It takes a good two weeks before the surgeon’s able to head to Vegas. With no word from you, nothing on the news, he worries it’s too late. Either you’ve been swallowed up by the system or, worse, gone on the run. Or worst, been disappeared by a criminal or government entity. Given his increasing anxieties, given he’s no way to contact you anymore and nowhere else to start, Stephen heads direct to Las Vegas PD.
Dr Strange explains the situation - as he understands it - first to the officer at the front desk. He portrays himself as a doctor concerned for a patient’s welfare without actually declaring you his patient. That gets him beyond the front lobby, but that’s all. After that it’s a series of vaguely or completely disinterested cops half-listening, then passing him off to another department, another officer.
His frustration builds with the worry he’s being played, being passed around in hopes that he’ll lose interest in helping you at all. “Look, isn’t there anyone here who might be able to help? She could be in real danger, from herself or others.”
“Think she’s a danger to herself and others?” The current detective twists words.
“That is not what I said!” Stephen snaps, irritated by the stupidity - intentional or not.
Tyr moves discreetly along to catch the story as it unfolds; perhaps it doesn’t interest the others, but it interests him. As the doctor’s patience wears dangerously thin, as he senses things about to go sideways, he steps in. “Excuse me, detective, can I have a word with Dr. Strange?” The Vegas PD shrugs, leaves the interview room. “You okay?”
Stephen takes a deep breath. “My friend...” He repeats your name, again. “I worry she’s in trouble, danger.” He tells his story again, doing his best to stress your need for help without putting you in a bad light. “I just...want to find her. Help her. And know who the hell you are.”
The edge of the last bit makes Tyr smile. “I’m Detective Tyson Vidar, LAPD.”
“So you’ve no jurisdiction here.”
“No, I’m just visiting, but I’d still like to help.”
“...Why?” Dr Strange has already been jerked around enough to start distrusting.
Tyr shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a stickler for justice.”
Just a bit of catching up with The Bold One!reader and, haha, Dr Strange. I was stuck on this one forever - the whole series - but found a solution for this thread in just, ya know, getting rid of the surplus characters - they aren’t really needed and were never gonna last anyway. Now some MAY have survived, but I’m not certain so not saying who and/or how it all went down, exactly. And, yes, you’ve FINALLY met Norse god, Tyr, who I’ve been trying to get in this thing since the last major part...Not sure if he’ll stick around just now, but he’ll definitely be back at some point. Oh, and he’s living disguised as a human police detective named Tyson “Ty” Vidar, but maintains all his powers as Norse God of War. Also, he’s “played” by Titus Welliver.
All gifs made found on Google, combined by me, credit goes to whoever their OG makers are!
Tagged: @chibiyanai @wadeyouwitch @creedslove @lady-crowned-with-stars @moonfaery @annievvv7 @ladyfluff @holykryptonitekitten @lokilvrr @janebrownnie @lokis-little-kitten @alexakeyloveloki @theangelsfightwithdevils @the-blue-tiefling @lokis-lady-death @dangertoozmanykids101 @prometheasmother @vethrvolnir @wintertink @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @drakonwild @starscreamloki @skoulsinner @hiddles-rose @the-lady-witchitery @galaxies-inside-my-head @jackheart180 @lukeevansandjdmobession @endlessstairway @steph-1986 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981 @lovekrystina @madoka73 @lokikingofasgardslover713 @partiallyinthecloset @ultrarebelheart @gravitational-anomaly @lost-in-labradorite-halls @sweetfictionalworld @lowcarbgem @tarithenurse @beccaliciooouuusss @michellearel1 @toozmanykids @erasnegras @iwasbusybeingdead @hearted-words @foofyschmoofer @kellatron55 @kpopgirlbtssvt @biiskuitx
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‘ I would travel across the world to be by your side, because as long as you are with me, anywhere is a perfect place to me. ’ ( To fiery boi from his smol shapeshifter UwU )
'grave suggestion' edition || @swordsxandxshadows || accepting
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 || Supple flesh between their lips continue to coalesce and dance, along with exploring hands devouring one another’s body. Love always has been something he is born with, and fear something he learned through the course of his life of centuries. For there is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defense or reserve. Hanzo Hasashi is as unapologetic and passionate as in love, as any altercations of kombat and everything that pertains to his discipline and dedication. For his language is so powerful. It can crush a heart, or heal it. It can shame a soul or liberate it. It can shatter dreams or energize them. It can obstruct connection or invite it. It can create defenses, or melt them. The Shirai Ryu Grandmaster has always used them wisely, for the repercussions and outcomes are inevitable, for his love transcends life itself.
With their residence overlooking the reconstructed Shirai Ryu, just as once Hasashi Compound became the beacon of safe place amidst the well-known clan and its Grandmaster, the Earthrealm’s Chosen One, the greatest warrior to ever grace the Earth in protection and defense of it - Hanzo no longer has to sink in the spiraling abyss of despair as he had for so long. That the tunnel of hopelessness used to be his abode, as he has slowly infused himself with hellfire, in order to master it as his own. In Netherrealm’s imposed imprisonment, Hanzo would have never dared to see the infinitesimal ray of hope flashing at the end of the tunnel, showing him a slim chance to escape the overwhelming despair.
Once extinguished and pulverized hope has revivified - in the form of his being rooting itself deeply in their coalesced beings, as he will continue to flourish over a heart in ruin. The inexplicable fact has been that the blinder he becomes with the progress and betterment, the more tenacious he would grow, and more tenacious he grows, he grows evermore stronger, as he conquers and triumphs over the dwelling, clawing monsters hidden within him.
“There is no need for that now,” Scorpion bellows with ultimate conviction. “No longer need I cradle carcasses and broken remains of the annihilated, to remain hollow, empty, and silent, to drift away in dissociative nightmares. For now, Hanzo Hasashi lives with the promised words of life that embeds in each and every tendril of his hellfire. Aku’s presence in his life had been deeply rooted, in order for the pyromancer to seek out rebirth and redemptive justice that will purify even the sacrilegious grounds. The once-wrathful and stern visage smoothes and mellows, breaking the gloomy music of his heartstrings as he pulls and cradles the shapeshifter in the hard confine of his pectorals.
“And I plan to stand here for a long time, as much as my longevity allows, however mortal my being may be.” Settled relief turns into anticipation, as his chest reverberates with impassioned fervor and newly constructed protectiveness and discipline. Once again, the Shirai Ryu will rise with its proud grandeur, and exterminate any enemy forces that bring upon unnecessary willful incivility. His heart could not endure another tragedy that will usurp everything he used to hold dear. The maxims of his action will speak much louder than words. For his people, along with Aku and himself included, deserve a happy ending. ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 🔥 ||
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also scorch's little teeth are so adorable!!
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It’s an act of courage to listen to your own voice. . . . #rodneythompsonart #mentalhealth #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealthawareness #depression #struggle #art #artist #fineart #fire #firepainting #scorch #burn #flame #sacramentoartist #texasartist #austinartist #artinbend #oil #oilpainting #portrait #portraitpainting #portraiture #headpainting #creativeuprising https://www.instagram.com/p/CQJRR-rHiyL/?utm_medium=tumblr
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how the fuck-
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i LOVE how everyone calls Nilas "walrus-face" do they call him that to his face ever or does he just overhear it and lye away like "do I have a walrus face?"
To his face, definitely xD
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Is Scorch’s familiar/companion is gonna be cat based because of the plushy? Perhaps a nice fiendcat?
A fiendkitty might be a tad bit too big for him at the moment, but lets look at a few other options, sure! o:
Thiiiiiiiiiiiiis feels like something Ash would've picked out xD
This was Cin trying to make him a kitty friend from scratch in her forge c':
Nilas probably had one of these as a kid but they are way too fluffy for the Ashfall Wastes o-o;
This feels like it would be Ronan's choice, 10/10 very friend-shaped =u= (and it has the signature family tusks!!)
I have so many questions about this one, and I'm sure most of the family does too o-o;
Unfortunately, keeping an actual kitty in the house miiiiight upset all of mama's firebirds, sooooo we may have to just stick with the plushie for now ^^
SOLUTION!! Grig and Warrin are absolutely cat people and have some kitties Scorch can come and play with whenever he visits the Snowsquall Tundra with his papa! \o3o/
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I just realized Fallout's damage is kinda bullshit
I mean, I'm repeatedly shooting this raider in the head. How is that any different from sneak attack? Why does it do so little damage??
I get that sneak attack can catch the enemy off guard and one shot kill them, but shooting someone in the head several times and not dying is ridiculous. Let alone charging at me with almost no staggering.
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I just wanna live in a little spooky town somewhere.
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Hmmm how about Rex, Fox, and Scorch? (no rhyme or reason really 😂)
What a fascinating and also challenging combo! But it turns out you got them in the right order:
Husband: Rex. I mean, look at him. Look at him <3 He's handsome as hell, he'll make me laugh, he's devoted but will also respect my desire to have a career.
Best Friend: Fox. Mostly because I am the best friend who will show up with caf, or to make him stop working and go lie down.
Brother: Scorch. He comes with three other built-in brothers. In for a penny, in for a whole commando squad.
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