Autopsy photographs showing defense wounds on the hands of Travis Alexander, who was brutally murdered in his Arizona home in June 2008.
The presence of multiple cuts on the hands and forearms of a murder victim indicates they attempted to ward off an attack with a knife, or a similiar sharp instrument. When a victim tries to wrestle the weapon off the attacker their thumbs and fingers can suffer deep slashes and lacerations. Livid bruising on Travis Alexander’s knuckles suggests he fought heroically for his life before being stabbed repeatedly and shot. His ex-girlfriend, Jodi Arias, was charged and convicted of his murder.
The 9th Time(which doesn’t count because Obi-Wan was trying to save Anakin in the first place). This is heavily referenced from here. I saw it and decided a Star Wars version needs to exist hence I drew this.
Stiles listens to his dad ask him the same question that comes up way too often, and gets lost counting the dark flecks that scatter across the white expanse of the all-too-familiar hospital ceiling. Here again, and ‘He’ll be fine,’ the doctor says.
His dad wants to hear it from Stiles’ lips, though. Is he okay?
Is he really okay?
His answer doesn’t come as easily as it used to, no quip or snap back like it’s easy come easy go. The feckless lie sticks in the back of his throat, burning away like a hot coal choking the life out of him.
He’s said it more than a million times, and no super-hearing anybody has heard his heart skip a single beat. Or maybe they did, but that thought doesn’t make it any easier, because that means they’ve ignored it a million times, too. And it should be easy, he’s brilliant at lying straight to his father’s face these days. Stiles knows how to twist a definition to make it true, how to believe in nothing and make it something.
Molehills out of mountains.
Tip of the iceberg.
Shrink it down until it’s just an ember, a single flicker of pain low in his chest. It burns enough to remind him that it’s there, but cool enough for him to force the words out.
He stops counting the tiny holes in the ceiling, and plasters a bright, brilliant lie across his face.
Derek pisses Stiles off, and Stiles issues an “open-door policy” for the teenaged werewolves in his life. (Which is, really, more of an open-window policy, because seriously: werewolves) After that it is, like, all werewolf all the time.
Stiles isn’t sure how a Pack is supposed to work, but he’s pretty sure that this this disorganized jumble of people and events doesn’t quite qualify. He has to hand it to Derek though, he keeps trying. And Stiles has never been one to stand quietly on the sidelines.
His hands shake when he pulls his phone out of his
pocket. It’s amazingly intact but it takes him a few tries to get the
pass-code in and pull up the text screen. He knows Stiles and Lydia are
in school, but he needs them, needs his Pack, his tethers, to keep him
from flying apart.
Derek faces some of the ghosts of his
past and finally gains some peace as he begins to build a future for
himself and his Pack. Oh and Scott arrives.
Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter’s untimely return from the
dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their
lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the
aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and
Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe,
and that includes Stiles.
“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,”
Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently
inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other,
serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”
“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”
know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want
to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”
It was always said that the Omega had the choice. The
Omega chose their Alpha. Sure, that was great on paper, but no one ever
told Stiles how many strings had to be pulled and deals had to be made
behind the scenes for him to be pushed into choosing the Alpha everyone
wanted him to choose.
Of course there was a choice to be made, but he definitely wasn’t the one who was supposed to make it.
Derek’s been choking on the
smoke and ash of his family’s murder for years now. It consumes every
part of him, influences all that he is. He knows that he’ll never be
free of it, that nothing will ever grant him the peace he so desperately
All he wants is to feel safe, to be loved and to love in return, but he knows that’s impossible.
Until, that is, he meets Stiles.
ups and downs, past blood and pain, Stiles slowly gives Derek exactly
what he’s always desperately wanted and never believed he could have.
Comfort. Care. A new Pack. And a dark, desperate kind of all consuming love.
i’m so over the Jon / Dany saving Westeros stuff. & getting married & being the ultimate heroes & king & queen & happily ever after. the quote if you think this has a happy ending, you’ve obviously not been paying attention comes to mind??
but then, it is d&d so— all complexity filters away.
i don’t hate Daenerys or Jon at all. they’re great. in fact, i especially love Jon (largely thanks to brilliant RPers on here. ) but it’s the ultimate cliche. it’s too obvious. it plays into every trope out there. personally, i also don’t think their personalities gel but that’s a shipper’s personal choice. but mostly—— i’d question why anyone would want that outcome. it’s boring. isn’t that the ultimate sin?
book wise, also, it goes against everything George speaks about, teaches & has followed so far.
i’m not gonna hate on anyone for RPing it or wanting it, that’s not my business at all! but hell, if it actually happens. i’m gonna’ be unsatisfied.
14-Year-Old “Twilight Killers” Butcher Mother and Child
On April 13, 2016 two teenagers from Spalding, Lincolnshire (their names are lawfully supressed) crept into the home of Elizabeth Edwards and her thirteen-year-old daughter Katie armed with four knives wrapped in a t-shirt. The male then entered Elizabeth’s room, knelt on her chest, and began slashing at her throat. The petrified woman grabbed at her attacker before he placed a pillow on her face and continued to stab her. The female heard Elizabeth cry “Get off me! Please!” before she was suffocated. His sweater drenched with blood, the male took off his shoes to prevent waking Katie and snuck into her bedroom alongside the female.
As Katie slept peacefully the male and female stabbed her in the throat once each and smothered her with a pillow, like her mother. The two heartless killers then fled the scene, taking a bath together at home before watching the popular vampire movie “Twilight” and having sex.
Katie and her mother were discovered two days later when a concerned relative contacted the police. The two officers who discovered the bodies described a scene of chaotic carnage; huge splashes of gore decorated the wall, and the mattresses the victims lay on were drenched to the springs with blood. An autopsy revealed Elizabeth Edwards had suffered two stab wounds to her throat, one of which had almost sliced her windpipe in half. Huge slashes on both of her hands indicated she had fought heroically for her life. Katie also had defensive wounds on her hands and a massive wound to the side of her neck.
How the two killers were eventually apprehended is currently unclear; its not known if a confession prompted their arrests or if they left behind a damning peice of evidence. The couple was reportedly obsessed with the ‘Twilight’ saga movies, and had planned the murders with chilling precision. The female stated in court that she first felt attraction to her partner in murder because he threw a chair across the room at school, and the two bonded over their deep psychological issues and love of 'Twilight’. Neither showed any remorse during their trial and the female pled for leniency due to her mental health issues. After an 8 day trial both were found guilty of murdering Elizabeth and Katie Edwards and sentenced to life with a recommended sentence of forty years. The 'Twilight Killers’ are the youngest individuals to recieve a life sentence in Britain’s history.
Heroism means to totally devote
oneself to a great idea, to consume oneself like a torch in the flame of a
mighty ideal, to see only one great ideal in sight and in mind and in marching
step. Heroism is being stirred, obsessed, fulfilled with a very great task.
His own personality no longer
plays a role for the hero. Desire and suffering, life and death, step back for
him behind the tremendous obligation toward the work for which Providence has
called him. Heroic deeds are done not out of ambition and egoism, rather out of
ultimate selflessness, unselfishness and personal devotion. Infinite faith in
work, calling and idea fill and give wings to the deeds and the bearing of the
Heroism differentiates Itself
from insanity, fantasy and senseless self-sacrifice.
In every age there have been
people who, misled by false doctrines or driven by a hysterical disposition,
were devoted to senseless and ineffective idols and fantasies and became
pitiful, poor martyrs of life-alien religious teachings.
And there have been people who,
above all, under the influence of the most diverse religions, viewed
self-mutilation, unnatural castigations of the body and deadening of all
natural forces as heroism.
Genuine heroism lives in reality
and reckons with reality. Genuine heroism is supported by the natural laws of
life and grows from the infinitely deep soil of folk, homeland and family. Only
in the framework of this divine order of creation can a genuine heroism exist.
Only in the service of real life - created and wanted by God - can a person
become a hero. And only this earthly reality connects the hero to the divine.
Man’s heroic, ultimate effort for
life often takes place in a brand framework visible from afar.
But often heroism grows in all
quietness and seclusion. Heroic women and mothers, heroic soldiers and heroic
workers are at work by the thousands in large cities and small villages, on all
life’s battlegrounds and in all the folk’s workplaces.
The great heroes often awaken
hundreds of thousands, yes, millions of people within a folk and pull them
along to victorious charges and ultimate effort. Like shining torches, they
often being life, movement and glow into a dark night. Fortune is the folk for
whom in every age, but above all in difficult hours, heroes arise.
Not everyone is selected by
Providence for this radiant heroism.
But everyone can brighten and
encourage his small surroundings as a quiet hero of daily life, save them from
exhaustion numbness, and lead them to a victorious life.
In a folk’s hours of decision and
in the peaceful periods of confirmation, these quiet heroes are no less
important than the great heroic figures. These quiet heroes hold the front
together, always give new strength, again and again bring light and joy. They
create calm where agitation threatens to cause damage and bring motion where a
stoppage could mean danger. Hundreds of thousands of people owe it to the
silent working of an unknown hero that they have preserved their faith and
their idealism, that they have remained decent people or become ones again,
that they hold their position soldierly at the place where Providence has put
If among a thousand people one
quiet hero, man or woman, walks and works, then this heroic example will
radiate onto them all, then our whole folk will grow together into a great,
Each of us can be this quiet
hero, at whom others looks, to whom they turn, even if no command calls for it.
But there can also come hours in
life in which we face the choice either to be heroes or cowards, either to be
men or traitors.
There are events in which a
middle line between heroism and baseness is not longer possible.
Whoever proves heroic bearing in
the quiet life struggle, will in these fateful hours all by himself grow to
great heroism. Heroism is the dream of all
All this other shit I’m talkin’ ‘bout they think they know it
I’ve been praying for somebody to save me, no one’s heroic
And my life don’t even matter
I know it I know it I know I’m hurting deep down but can’t show it
Moral of the story, where there’s a shield there’s a Capt. Steve. He’ll tragically fall in love with a strong, bad ass woman, who can handle her own like a total boss. Then heroically sacrifice his life piloting a dangerous plane, in order to save humanity during a War.
Bonus: Either he out lives HER or SHE out lives him.
The thing about Beauty and the Beast… I was too young to see it in the theatres, and my father bought me a laser disc copy to watch a year later. I fell in love with Belle, Belle’s dress (and that was why yellow was my favorite color as a child), and the whole magic of this story. Beauty and the Beast (1991) holds a very important piece of my childhood – this movie means a lot to me.
She’s done it in every neighborhood she’s lived in; five pairs of running shoes and a collection of sports bras like a workout spread in a teen magazine. Aunt Kate used to take her, said it was a good skill, that she’d need it someday and that it was good for building strength. She’d never said what the strength would be for.
It’s the reason he’s here now – on an epic journey for skittles and lucky charms – in a two-bit 24/7. It’s here that everything changes. When the truth comes to a head. When his despair becomes terror. Because Allison and the very much alive Gerard Argent are here too. Grocery shopping, of all things.
at·a·vism [at-uh-viz-uhm] noun 1. Biology . a. the reappearance in an individual of characteristics of some remote ancestor that have been absent in intervening generations. b. an individual embodying such a reversion. 2. reversion to an earlier type; throwback.
When Stiles is alone, he can’t stop his mind flashing back to that night in the Argent’s basement. When Gerard told him he wasn’t completely human. Just what does it mean to be a Spark?
Season 2 has great world building with the alien bar (hopefully we’ll get a name soon). I am so thankful that Maggie introduced the bar and I’m happy that Mon El and M'gann anchored the connection to the setting. Whereas Clark has two identities, Kara always seemed to have 3. She is Kara Danvers, Supergirl, and Kara Zor-El. Kara Danvers is a sister, friend, and a reporter at CatCo. Supergirl saves people and works for the DEO. Kara Zor-El is the alien from Krypton that had a life vastly different from the one she has on Earth. It is rare for Kara to show this third identity and she only ever reveals small pieces at a time. With the help on the alien bar, Kara’s multiple identities are aligning. She teases Winn saying “How do you know that’s chicken?” She gets drunk for the first time. She’s in an environment where she is normal. Kara Danvers (sister and friend) merges with Supergirl (DEO agent) which both merge with Kara Zor-El (alien).
Season 1 made it look like that Kara was the only good alien on Earth besides Clark and J'onn. Almost every villain was an alien. Season 2 shows us that there are every day aliens who just want to live a non heroic/normal life. We get to see them in the bar. Kevin consumes spray cans, aliens flirt with each other, and Winn met Lyra there. Outside the bar we have Brian, a blue alien that is a gambling addict, and an alien car family that enjoys listening to Bruno Mars. I love this development and it’s something the Flash has not been able to accomplish yet with Metahumans. Aliens have become a known part of society. People are aware of their existence and the President signed an act giving aliens citizenship.