not much better but redone

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here are two photos of me that were in my drafts. i have nothing exciting to say about them except that i took them last week before i got my hair redone so it looks much better now. thx enjoy.

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“He’s just this lost little boy, and then he sees the comet…
                          and suddenly his life has m e a n i n g.” (x)

requested by kiramccallss

Stitches

Alfred is artificial life created by a mad scientist. Once he’s left alone, he begins to fall apart. He needs to find someone that can put him back together both literally and figuratively. Usuk Frankenstein AU. Part of an October-long Halloween theme and based off the AU by faeriekiddo on instagram.//

Alfred was a monster, and he felt he was as gruesome as he could get. He’d been created artificially, by sewing together the appendages and organs of other human beings. His life was the mutation of so many others, and the doctor who made him never gave any of it a second thought. He’d said Alfred was a wonder, a miracle of science. Life made from death. He had believed him, and was proud of himself simply for existing. He considered the doctor his father, and the two of them a family.

Alfred believed the two of them made a very nice family, even if the doctor was strange and would occasionally perform morally questionable experiments. It was fun, if anything. But, Alfred found that his content life in the lab wouldn’t last long, for his father grew sick, and then passed away. And then, Alfred was alone.

He’d found himself wandering the countryside, limbs quite literally falling apart at the seams. He was carrying his forearm in a sack, now, and it looked like the other arm would give soon.

Alfred didn’t often ask for help, as he had a tendency to cause others to run away or scream or attack him. Sometimes it was all three. But now- now he was desperate.  

He was just on the outskirts of a humble town, heading towards a  house that sat on a hill. He needed a needle and thread. He couldn’t sew well, and limbs were even harder than normal fabrics.  But, he’d have to manage. He looked through a few of the windows, and came to the conclusion that no one was home. He prayed he was right.

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You sit with your legs draped over steve’s, holding a tub of ice cream in your hand. In the other the tv remote, flipping through channels. This was now a ritual after hard mission with your best friend Steve.

“Shouldn’t we be training?” Steve asks, a mouthful of ice cream making most of his words sound blurry.

“Maybe, But this is so much better.”