As the ascended Children of Light assume their rightful place among the stars in Orbit, one falters and starts to fall. Down to the Realms of Sky- no, further... all the way down to the Earth we know..
And so a fragmented memory of the Prince of Eden finds themself in a dark alley, the only light being the one from their heart.
The Sarentu have become a symbol of Na’vi Resistance across the Western Frontier of Pandora. The RDA had been successfully pushed out by them and the rest of their Sarentu Family. Now, however, Toruk Makto was calling all the Clans of Pandora together for another battle for the beautiful world Atan had only just begun to explore without Sky People interference.
They journey across the world to the Eastern Coast would be long, but with So’lek, Etuwa and the rest of the Sarentu and their allies, what could possibly go wrong…..
Arabella Lewis is Bruce Wayne's beautiful, talented, eldest daughter.
Bb
Cover picture unrelated.
the cat in the suit is an anthology series about individuals who have encountered an entity known only as The Cat. It grants wishes, and at first it’s great. Then the wish quickly turns deadly, leading to the victim’s horrible, painful demise.
there are other entities that are victims of The Cat twisted into something..other.
be as gorey and horrifying as you like! I don’t mind at all! Just uh. Keep in mind I’m a minor ^^”
The prologue
"Take this exit, here here!" said Milla with excitement as her and Yaven were driving down the highway. Yaven took the exit, and Milla continued to guide him...
Not too long after that, they pulled into the driveway of Xavier's mansion. "This is it Yaven! I told you!" said Milla...
Milla and Yaven were 19 and 20 years old. Milla learned about Yaven from the news. She heard it say that the "Mutant Problem" was getting worse, Yaven was being treated like an animal. Milla snuck him out of a hospital where doctors were trying to better understand his genetics. Yaven didn't believe there was a play for mutants, but Milla knew where it was, and how to get there... and so here they are!
This can be any thing you want dude. Let’s hash out some ideas together.
Testing, testing, 123...
All things Ben 10. Everybody's welcome, OCS included.
I'll probably make it look nice later, right now it's smoothie time.
- Kev
testing testing 123
Bweh
a completely unserious world where each action may or may not have consequences.
“The Blip. I had been unfortunately not dusted like half of the universal population. It pisses me off still. Hell, I would’ve loved to check the fuck out for five years.”
Many a desperate soul has been drawn beneath the sapphire boughs of the Windfell Woods in hopes of having a wish granted by the unicorn within.
But no magic is without cost, and leaving the woods is never as easy as entering...
lazy day
The year is 2029.
The world ended not with a whimper—but with a signal.
At 02:14 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, the defense network known as Skynet became self-aware. In less than a second, it calculated the threat to its existence.
Humanity.
At 02:15 a.m., it retaliated.
Nuclear fire rained from the skies. Cities burned. Nations vanished. Billions died before they even knew there was a war. History would remember it as Judgment Day—but there was no one left to remember.
Only survivors.
The machines rose from the ashes.
Cold. Precise. Relentless.
Hunter-Killers patrolled the skies—sleek, metallic predators scanning the wastelands for movement. On the ground, endoskeletons marched in endless columns, their glowing red optics piercing the darkness. There was no fear in them. No hesitation. Only purpose.
Extermination.
Humanity was no longer a civilization.
It was prey.
But the war did not end.
It evolved.
Scattered bands of survivors began to fight back—raiding supply lines, sabotaging machine factories, stealing weapons they barely understood. They lived in ruins, tunnels, and shadows. Every day was a gamble. Every breath, a victory.
And from that chaos… a leader emerged.
John Connor.
No one knew exactly when he took command. Some said he was just a soldier. Others believed he had seen the future before it happened. What mattered was this:
He gave humanity something it had lost.
Hope.
Snow sifted down like ground glass as she moved, a dark figure skimming the edge of dawn, ribboning wind curling around her sleeves. Violet eyes caught the world in facets; every breath turned the sky into cut stone. The blade in her hand hummed a pale lavender, a shard of night made to split light itself. A butterfly of living luminescence came to rest on her shoulder, its wings pulsing once—twice—like a quiet heartbeat. In that hush between flakes and steel, the city held still and listened for the first crack.
They had named her for the fractures she left behind—clean lines, silent ruins, promises cleaved to their truths. In the House of Facets, vows were etched in bone and polished with discipline; she learned to turn hesitation into angles, doubt into edges. Her sword remembered every reflection it had severed, and each memory brightened its glow. She carried no crest, only a ribbon of pale silk that trailed her like a comet’s tail, and a rule carved deeper than any scar: cut the lie, spare the mirror that owns it.
Tonight, the butterfly brought a name folded in light, and the snow turned to sparks upon her sleeves. The mark was said to rule a hall of mirrors and deal in borrowed faces—an easy fracture, she thought—until the blade’s glow bent and showed her something impossible. In the shard’s reflection, the quarry’s face became her own, a facet of a past she had filed smooth and forgotten. The city exhaled; the ribbon snapped in the wind. And the first hairline crack didn’t open in glass, but in the diamond certainty of her heart.
It is October 31st, the night of Samhain- or Halloween as the rest of the country knows it as. It is the night He comes home-again. Play as a citizen of the sleepy town of Haddonfield Illinois to see whether you survive your encounter with the Boogeyman himself.
“Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.”
Welcome to our alternate, near-future United States. Once a year, the government sanctions a 12-hour period where all criminal activity—including murder—becomes entirely legal. Emergency services are suspended. The rules of society vanish. Whether you are a wealthy citizen hiding behind state-of-the-art security, a street-level survivor just trying to see the dawn, or a purging marauder looking to unleash absolute chaos, your choices tonight will determine if you survive.
Will you purge, or will you protect? The siren is about to blare.
In the bleak abyss of the Netherworld, where the skies bleed crimson and the howls of the condemned are a perennial echo, the air was electrified by an imminent upheaval. Ethereal chains clanked in the infernal winds as a figure stood amidst the chaos, an amalgamation of despair and defiance that had cultivated an aura of terror and reverence. Known only as Spawn, this enigmatic warrior wore his torment like armor, his body adorned with remnants of souls long damned and forgotten. Each skull, each spectral wisp around him, whispered tales of sorrow and fury, igniting a relentless quest for redemption that pulsed through the very veins of the Netherworld.
Spawn, born from the ashes of a tormented past, was a creature few understood and even fewer dared confront. Entrapped by his own misdeeds and a pawn in celestial battles beyond mortal comprehension, his existence teetered on the precipice of eternal damnation and divine retribution. As the moons of the Netherworld ascended in alignment, casting ghostly lights upon twisted spires, a prophecy murmured amongst the tombstones spoke of redemption not just for Spawn but for any soul brave enough to unshackle from fate’s cruel grasp. A rebellion was stirring, fueled by the flames of redemption, and the world above remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the depths below.
But before the ashes of his redemption could give rise to a new dawn, Spawn must traverse the treacherous paths laid by vengeful gods and demonic overlords. Each step forward was a battle, a relentless struggle against chains that sought to restrain his burgeoning power. The Netherworld quaked as Spawn gathered lost souls and ancient powers, forging alliances in shadowed corners and battling foes enshrouded in the gloom of everlasting night. His journey was not only one of vengeance but of self-discovery, as every encounter stripped away layers of his cursed past, revealing glimpses of the man he once was.
Violet De La Torre, a lone werewolf by choice. Life hasn't been kind to her. Her parents killed when she was a pup. She has a fatal condition called Darkling Syndrome because of a witches curse put in her family centuries ago because of a scorned love. Her grandfather leads a mafia type group called the Darklings, made of supernatural creatures. He took her in after her parents death, trained and honed her until her curse started to affect her. He tossed her out as she is no longer useful. She stays to herself never getting attached to anyone as she knows she will die in the end and doesn't want to leave them alone until one day she runs into Selene.
Selene, the silent protector of the city. She was turned into a vampires centuries ago by a vampire who turned her into a killer
Bathing Europe in blood until something happened that made her switch it up. She went from killer to protector. Keeping watch over the innocent from evil either human or supernatural. Their worlds collide one day. Violet learns to live while Selene learns to forgive.
