#I think about this fic every day

[abrielarnold]

Haunted

(the last @thingsthatbleedfic chapter and its freaking gorgeous illustrations (@kkachis @artistfingers @dp-belongs-in-a-hoodie) made me feral, so in a desperate bid to know more and get some good context to draw The BoysTM, i read the alex rider books and watched the alex rider show, and then discarded most of that reference and just made alex the colour of the background, BUT, it was worth it because now the show lives in my head rent free, AND i have a treasure trove of fics to read while waiting for the next TTB chapter! woo!)

i felt that including fire was highly appropriate. if you know you know.

[deathsweetblossoms]

"You're here," she said, only half sure she'd said the words out loud.

"I'm here." He tugged lightly on her braid before pulling his hand back.

Recessional by @ultadverb

[citrusses]

“I did plenty of things!” Draco said indignantly. “But I was a child, I didn’t really, I was a child and a gentleman - and then sixth year was so--” He stopped, licked his lips, then laughed a little bitterly. “I didn’t have much of a sex drive that year, sorry to tell you, what between trying to figure out how to kill the most powerful wizard of our age and trying to stop the other most powerful wizard killing my family, I didn’t quite get round to the heights of sex stardom you so clearly climbed.”

“Right. So when did you--” He laughed, feeling ridiculous, and shook his head. “Come on, Malfoy,” he said, clasping his hands under his chin and fluttering his eyelashes, “tell me about your first time.”

Draco looked at him for a moment, unreadable, and then rolled his eyes. “Not much to tell,” he said. “You were there. Speccy git in the rain. Bit hard on the knees. Not bad, not great.”

Such Great Heights by aideomai (E, 93k)

[morganbritton132]

17 year old, CEO Tim Drake canceling a press conference and then putting out a statement like, “Sorry for canceling last min, Alfred said that he was going to run my laptop through the dishwasher if I didn’t clean my room. I think he’d do it :/. Also, wasn’t really in the mood. Cya -Tim.”

[fictionadventurer]

I love libraries.

I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.

Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.

This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.

Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.

Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.

Excuse me while I go weep.

[benevolenterrancy]

Mobei-Jun getting abandoned in the human realm by his favourite uncle and being left alone and terrified?? baby???? gonna lie awake thinking about him and Shang Qinghua meeting as children

[khruschevshoe]

There's just something very specific about homoerotic character-enveloping friendships from around 2010 where they're semi-aware that gay people exist but queerbaiting isn't quite a thing yet sp their relationship consumes the narrative and changes them both irrevocably forever and they end in tragedy but the ending is JUST open enough for the fic writers to wriggle into that just makes me go fucking FERAL

[nuppu-nuppu]

give Megumi his dad back

[little-pondhead]

Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

[lunarharp]

Scrappiiiees i love kitchen :)

[achillesuwu]

Multiple people must have already when insane over this but : i'm chewing wall over the fact that Arthur never knew that Merlin was born with magic and

He.

Didn't.

Care.

He never asked when Merlin started, if he started, etc

Merlin choosing or not choosing to do magic was irrelevant to Arthur. The fact that Merlin is a sorcerer was enough. He was horrified about what he allowed to happen and it didn't matter that it was a choice or not. If Merlin is a magic user then it can't be monstrous, if merlin has magic then it can't be wrong.

The only thing left is the fact that Arthur's greatest failure is not being able to be the friend he wanted to be. The kind of friend Merlin was to him.

[walmart-miku]

ok people we gotta stop making mori the source of all evil with soukoku. Yes mori is evil about how he treated yosano and a lot of the pm members but that's a whole other can of worms.

Anyways with skk MORI WOULD NOT TRY TO GET IN THEIR WAY IN FACT HE WOULD ENCOURAGE THEIR ASSES TO GET TOGETHER THIS PANEL EXISTS FOR A REASON.

MORI SHIPS THEM SO BAD ITS ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS.

Fics need to stop making this dude try to prevent skk from dating. I want a crack fic where mori is just like "Hey how was ur day do u like to kiss guys?" To both dazai and chuuya. I want mori shenanigans where he's actively trying so hard to set them up and Elise is sitting in a corner with kouyou and they're hard core judging him.

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[from-the-clouds]

but at least everyone in the last of us universe all got to experience the peak of cinema before the world went to shit

[mikakuna]

the way people care more about jason fighting tim than like any other rogue fighting tim during his robin run is...!

"they're brothers! jason is so horrible to attack his little brother."

aside from the obvious twinkification of tim, stop pushing the family narrative on two people who did not see each other as siblings at that moment.

[benevolenterrancy]

@hereticcryptid I appear to be slowly but surely developing an entire series about how Hensheng and Baxia apparently get fed up with their owners' inability to express their feelings and take matters into their own hands...