seen from France
seen from Finland
seen from Spain
seen from Australia
seen from Tunisia
seen from Spain
seen from Jamaica
seen from South Korea
seen from Palestinian Territories
seen from France
seen from Japan
seen from Kenya
seen from France
seen from Spain
seen from Kenya
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from India
seen from Russia
seen from United States
“how much longer?” she knew that she wasn’t going to heal overnight with how much damage was done to her. but, she is growing rather impatient and restless with not allowed to do what she wants with all these casts on her body.
@etheheal / sc.
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❝ trick or treat! ❞
spooky scary meme○ accepting○ @etheheal
The monk wasn’t too familiar with the customs of this human tradition. He knew of children going door to door dressed in scary costumes. As far as he was aware, Angela wasn’t a child and she’d merely approached him, dressed as a witch, and exclaimed the words which many before her had spoken. Zenyatta looked at her, perhaps a little intimidating if she didn’t know him any better, before walking away. He returned some moments later, hands cupped together and filled with an assortment of sweets. Zenyatta put them in Angela’s hands - perhaps a little too much, for his hands are bigger than hers and the lollies overflow from her grasp. He wasn’t too sure of the correct amount to give somebody. ‘You deserve a treat.’ It seemed like the right amount for somebody as sweet as her.
hc + sadness
Quentin deals with sadness rather poorly. Before he became the infamous villain we all know and (maybe) love, he still exhibited the same habits he does currently to some extent. Whenever Quentin is sad, he pours himself even more-so into his work, which is dangerous considering how obsessive he is already. During the days where he simply worked in special effects, Quentin would work tirelessly at improving his craft and learning new tactics and techniques. He could also be found practicing monologues, accents, and mannerisms for acting during the days in which he wanted nothing more than to become a famous actor.
Once he took up the ‘role’ of Mysterio, his obsessive episodes of work whilst sad carried over as well. He now spends a lot of his time working on new ways to take down Spider-Man through trial and error of various technologies, tricks, and illusions.
He is not typically very vocal about his problems, as he does not have many people to even tell them to. However, if he trusts someone very much, Quentin will pour his heart and soul out about his problems if prompted in one way or another. This says a lot, as Quentin (as Mysterio) has gave Spider-Man an earful of grievances on various occasions.
“ no, i’m not going to. ”
IN ONLY FIVE WORDS // ACCEPTING
❝ this isn’t an ARGUMENT, ❞ he’s not intense with her, she gets the benefit of the commander’s affection, a soft spot he’s UNWILLING to let others EXPLOIT. you’re asking her to sit on the sidelines and watch, and perhaps that’s what’s so UNFAIR about it, that he’s asking her not to do her job and HELP those who need it, to her fellow SOLDIERS ( and that sits bitter on his tongue, to think of her as a soldier when she wasn’t, but the point stands ).
❝ i know that you want to go, ang, but i can’t risk that. this is hostile territory, and if anything happened to YOU… ❞ he trails, swallowing past the unease he feels at the thought of her getting hurt. ❝ i need you to stay HERE, where you’re needed most. please. ❞
“ i’ll always have your back. ”
IN ONLY FIVE WORDS // ACCEPTING
he’d spent long enough SCOLDING her; he’d told her to stay in the ship, but she was PERSISTENT, and nearly as bullheaded as he was ( a remarkable feat, truly ). he’d told her to stay put, but she was a DOCTOR after all ( as she felt needed to remind him times over ), and with blood staining across the hip of his pants, body heavy with PAIN, they’d both have to agree he was in need of MEDICAL ASSISTANCE. despite it, he hates the idea of her in the action down here, even in the soft glow of the staff that attaches to him, or the warmth he finds with his head in her lap, dainty fingers brushing through greying-blonde tips of hair. he’s never wanted her involved in WAR, he still doesn’t.
❝ that isn’t what worries me, ❞ he concludes, watching her with furrowed brow. he might have sat up to take her face in his palms, hold her close and stare her down, but he feels too WEAK to try; he simply lets his eyes sink shut, though the GRIMACE in his brow doesn’t fade. ❝ what worries me is you may get hurt because of my recklessness. ❞
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❛❛ damn , ang . you sure do know how to make a girl feel special . ❜❜ dislocated shoulder back in place ; falling from 50 feet off her bucket list - not that it was ever there in the first place . hand she have landed on her feet , the situation would have been much different . but there’s nothing feline in these genes . reverberating groan as joint rotates experimentally in socket . ❛❛ did we at least win ? ❜❜
@etheheal / sc .
( @etheheal )
dare she spare a glance at herself / a face overcome with pure exhaustion will stare back. here : she sits, unmoving as angela pokes and prods in hopes that surface wounds were the only things that yuna sustained. ( she, too, hopes so. being bedridden sounds horrible right now ).
❛ what’s the verdict, 의사 ? ❜ dark hues are searching, eyeing ; wanting nothing more than to be patched up and sent on her way. ❛ think i’ll live to see another day ? ❜ there’s a ghost of a smile ── tired, but still willing to joke around.
“I love these crisp mornings.”
autumn starters ○ accepting ○ @etheheal
He wasn’t expecting company. Zenyatta had always been one for early mornings; come out of his meditation at 5am, find a tranquil place to sit and watch the sunrise. And while the sun had well and truly risen, it was rare for anybody to join him so early in the morning. The omnic stood - feet on the ground now, rather than floating - though he could barely take his optics away from the view. ‘As do I.’ Their experiences surely varied. Angela was sure to be referring to the temperature, the atmosphere as the wind rustled what leaves remained on the trees and sent a small chill down her spine, Zenyatta could merely observe. He did not feel the cold nor the breeze as humans could. His systems could process such things, but it would be a mere reaction, an emotion, compared to what Angela felt.
