#bashing my head into things now

[menhirs-and-mudpuddles]

ooouugghh

[yumeyumeappleo]

wow look another fucking phone doodle of—guess who…..you got. the trans turtle. anyways look at her

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[crustyfloor]

The way Till looked genuinely pissed off because of Ivan but he’s not mean about it. Just thinking. The fact that he didn’t just say fuck off right then and there when Ivan asked him for a kiss, but he instead worked around it, as if after realizing Ivan was actually serious he said this as an attempt to pacify Ivan. because even though we get the irony here, it does look like Till trying to ‘let him down easy.’

Even his internal dialogue is harsh, but he doesn’t voice it.

And when Ivan starts whining and getting in his space again, Till doesn’t bother pressing it and just lets Ivan sulk, as if he’s simply handling a pouty child. Like he’s used to it and just letting it be, it doesn’t mean he liked it but Till really wasn’t trying to hurt Ivan.

(even more unsurprising how no punches were thrown, again. Till can only be provoked into acting that way, had this been Ivan’s perspective I’m sure this situation would have looked a lot more narrow-minded)

[chaotic-tired-bastard]

Yall ever think..... about them......

[cerise-on-top]

This is a vent piece. My psychosis got far worse again today, and my anxiety has been peaking each day for the past two weeks now. Pretty sure no one's going to read this, but I don't care. I wrote this with Price in mind, but this could be about anyone.

TW: graphic metaphors of violence, reader is psychotic and going through an episode, I think

What a beautiful day it was. The sun, at its zenith, brought a pleasant temperature with it. Any creature, capable of feeling both pleasure and warmth, would yearn for a nap underneath its rays. The sky, such a radiant blue, glorious in its pulchritude, made for the ideal day to go outside. Wherever one were to look, a human and its companions were close by, smiling at each other, cracking jokes. Some were enjoying lovely meals, others were indulging in sports. But many agreed, such a day had to be lived. Stormy clouds would come soon enough as they were, bringing an end to this reign of cheer. However, such thoughts couldn’t have been further away from the masses.

So, why were you stuck at home, bearing the curse of a headache no one had ever understood? This echo of a pain, it had only ever brought you suffering. Gripping your hair in your hands, you fought a war with yourself to not bash your head against the wall. The urge, ever so strong, was taking a hold of you, but you dared not let it win, for the consequences were dire enough to scare you into dominance over your mental illness. It was an unbearable pain, unlike anything you could ever have experienced normally. And yet, you’ve been living like this for the past few years now. It brought you to your knees as your breathing was uneven. Sharp breaths, deep breaths, were you even breathing at all? Even the voice in your head was concerned, trying to soothe you. Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Why couldn’t you have been normal?

Promises of aid in your darkest times came to mind, but the fear of burdening your loved ones broke each and every one of them. You wanted to swing your head violently around, making sure to break your skull, the splinters in your brain drowning out the pain that currently was. You couldn’t make it through this alone, but you had to. You were scared, alone, but you were a warrior, fighting for survival. If anyone ever knew how much agony you were in, they’d point and laugh at you. Your breathing sped up as you lowered your head to the floor. The cold wood did nothing to alleviate the torture you went through. You wanted to bite away at your own skin, gnawing at your bones so the physical pain would overshadow the mental one. You clutched your head, horrid images of flesh and bone crossing your mind. What did you do? And why did you deserve this? Picking at your skin, cutting away the flesh to reveal what’s inside, tearing open your body. You didn’t want this.

But somehow, a hand was placed on your back. As warm as the sun, as meaningful as the first nice day after a storm. You didn’t dare to look up. You’ve messed up. Someone saw you in your vulnerable state, here to take no mercy on you, who suffered through the layers of hell in this ordinary world. The hand burned through your skin, ridiculing you, but you craved it.

“Love, what’s wrong? Please look at me.”

You were shaking, your stomach churning as you tasted iron in your mouth. You were not long for this world, but you had to endure.

“It hurts so bad. I’m sorry.”

The hand on your back started to move, frantically so as it attempted to soothe you. The warmth spread, but your pain has been noted by someone else. You couldn’t move. But still, as humiliating as being perceived was, you focused on the hand.

“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The voice in your head made it all up. It was so loud, almost drowning out any other sound. You needed him to speak. He needed to continue, he needed to distract you.

“I’m sorry.”

Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to another source of warmth. His heart was beating, he was breathing, he was a beacon of comfort.

A body you loved, so close to you. His scent was almost overwhelming, but it was proof he was alive. You were alive, you believed, taking it in.

“Please, continue talking. I don’t care about what.”

And so, he betrayed your one request, staying silent. Perhaps it was your fault, perhaps it showed a weakness within him that only you could bring forth. And yet, his mere presence brought to light a strength you forgot about within yourself. As you no longer held onto your head as though it was torn at the seams, you instead sought him out. Finding solace within a gentle embrace, you took a deep breath as you buried your face in his shoulder. He was a soldier, one much better fitted for the cruelty this world brought about. He only knew how to kill, his only home was within the damned souls he sent to hell. But within his gentle grasp, you focused solely on him. Begging for comfort, like a child starved of its parent’s attention.

The knife of unreality twisted in your guts, slitting your throat, leaving you unable to speak. You were dependent on him in that moment. It was him, who needed to stitch you back together, make sure you could regard yourself as anything but a human failure. If you could even consider yourself a human in the first place.

But he was oh so meticulous in taking each bloody piece, infusing it with new life before merging it into an empty hull of a body. And as he’d build his own poisoned paradise, he inhaled the fumes and saw a glimpse of a future he still desired. What you had always seen as his certain demise, he saw a dream more pleasant than the heavens themself. Exhaling into your seemingly lifeless body, he shared his very essence with you. Even when you unwillingly knock on death’s door, he would still protect you from the grief of losing yourself, tearing you away from the pain of the unknown.

The sun, at its zenith, had nothing to say to you. It gave you an environment to live in, but no reason to stay in it. Only this one man, broken from war, found it within himself to show you the joy of being. His pieces had been scattered, but he still shared what little was left of him with you, building a secure fort around your being.

And from within the view of a safe home, you could even gaze at the stars, relishing in the cold. You had a different kind of warmth to return to.

[morganmnemonic]

I'm watching The Magnus Archives for the first time (i think im going to start tagging posts relevant to this with "tma liveblog" so I don't have to keep specifying). I just started season 2, and I've got to say I'm with Jon's paranoia on this one. Martin IS more competent than he's letting on. His soft, sweet, british voice is just so disarming that even hearing him talk about surviving the worm siege, I stilll mentally categorized him as "likely to die first". Sure he survived, but thats because Prentis let him go. If he actually got wormed, he'd probably just perish. Turns out, his initial idea for what would happen if he got wormed was performing emergency worm removal surgery on himself with a pocket knife. He sounded serious too, like he was mentally prepared to go through with it without hesitation if that's what it took. And if we look at what each of the characters did during the worm invasion,

Jon made no judgement calls that significantly impacted group survival one way or the other (+0) and got very wormed at the end (-1) for a grand total of -1 survival points.

Tim didn't notice that Prentis was in the archive and nearly got got (-1), sent Sasha ahead to get help, which resulted in the fire suppression system going off and saving himself and Jon from certain death (+2), got surrounded by worms in Jon's office (-1), and got very wormed at the end (-1), for a grand total of -1 survival points.

Sasha saved Tim from Prentis (+1), successfully got help, saving Tim and Jon from certain death (+2) and died (-1). For a total of 2 survival points.

Martin directed an injured Jon and Sasha to a safe place to hide from the worms and provided an effective tool for worm removal (+2), hid the stash of fire extinguishers that saved Tim from certain death (+1), and kept himself out of mortal peril for the entire duration of the invasion (+1). 4 survival points. He didn't even get injured. He's the only one who survived without intervention by forces beyond his control. Martin didn't play the part of first to die. No, this man was born for the roll of Final Girl.

And I don't think he's evil, and I don't think he killed Gertrude. But I do think that he's entirely capable of murder, if that's what it takes to survive. And I do think he will continue to exert his agency in the story in ways that the other characters and audience forget to expect from him. Not me, though. I learned my lesson. As entirely disarming as his demeanor is, I'm not going to underestimate him a second time.

[waterwindow]

heheheh

[spitblaze]

they knew you were a Fake Gamer Girl they just mixed up on which part you were actually faking

Joke's on them, I'm not bad at video games because I'm a girl. I'm just bad at video games without any real explanation

[blujayonthewing]

relatives you barely talk to will extrapolate your entire personality out of a single anecdote from your childhood that they are remembering wrong

[teaandinanity]

Ughhh I love Roots of Pacha but the fact that rare animal spawns are dependent on taming MORE INDIVIDUALS THAN THERE ARE VARIANTS is so fucking stupid.

Also stupid: Bred animals do not count towards this arbitrary number. So if you catch one of each type and then work towards improving your stats? You will never get there.

If other people had not repeatedly told me the number I had to tame I would NEVER have done that. I do not feel like most people would.

And the game itself never even implies you need to do this, so the only reason we know is that kindly code divers found Absolute Nonsense and went ‘hey FYI--’

[marbledproxies]

i apologize for my rambling, none of my friends like creepypasta as much as i do, they dont get the hype :brokenheart:

[frostbitesjc]

what if someone cut my body open and pulled my soul out and saw scars where my heart should be. what if they asked what could have done something so irrevocable. what if they find out it’s because of these 2 gay fictional characters my mind refuses to stop thinking about. what if

[werewolfsmile]

How to write a new novel that has no characters, no plot, and only vague vibes:

no idea

[redrobin-detective]

clouds between their knees

‘Robin, anything on your end?’ Batman asked over the comm. There’d been rumors of a gang meeting tonight with multiple possible locations. Bats took the most likely one while Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler were checking out the others. Cass and Steph’s leads were busts so Kon was prepared to take a peek before grappling to B’s location. And if his grapple was a little loose and he was going a little too fast, well who could tell otherwise?

“Not yet,” Kon grunted quietly as he shimmied quickly in through the broken window and down into the warehouse. “It’s dark in here so I’m not expecting much but I’ll check just to be sure.” It would be quicker to fly or just bust down the whole wall but Batman taught him better than that over the last three years. Besides, it wasn’t just his legacy he was messing with. Unlike when he was Superboy, he was part of something bigger and had people in his corner.

“Ok, I’m in,” he gracefully landed on the dusty floor and crept forward. He flipped up the lenses of his domino to do a quick Xray sweep and Bingo! Conner grinned when he took in the scene happening below him. “Jackpot B, I got the high beams up and there’s a hidden basement. I see Black Mask and, oh man, Red Hood is out in the open. We finally got him.”

‘Do not engage without me, I’m coming on your location now. 15 minutes,’ Batman said before signing off. Kon wanted to roll his eyes, his dad was so overprotective sometimes.

‘You better bring him in. As much as I love helping Oracle, I am So tired of house arrest,’ Tim grumbled over the line.

‘He’s made vocal threats against Robin, it was necessary,’ Batman grunted. Even if he wasn’t bulletproof, he wouldn’t let Tim go out with some maniac with Robin vendetta on the loose. Tim always groaned that Kon took Robin whenever there were dangerous missions as if he was secretly hoping to get maimed and killed. Sometimes it was a full time job keeping his big brother from self destructing. 

“I won’t engage B but it’s sealed up good so I can’t see or hear much. I’m gonna get into the vents and get more intel for when you arrive,” Kon said as he quickly cased the empty warehouse before finding a space just big enough for him to wedge into. He really hoped he didn’t inherit Clark’s big shoulders because this would be impossible if he were any bigger. It was already getting harder for him and Tim to share the Robin name and pretend they were the same person.

He lightened his weight a bit as he made his way through until he had a good view of the proceedings. Looks like they were arguing over the ‘green stuff’, ugh lame, couldn’t they just say money but something caught his attention.

“Hood looked up at me,” Kon whispered thoughtfully. As soon as Kon had come into the vent, Hood’s helmet had twitched ever so slightly in his direction. Kon didn’t like to brag but he was pretty good at what he did, it would be next to impossible for some hood to clock him that far away. “Could be a coincidence or he might had infrared or motion detectors in his helmet. If he’s been this hard to track down then we should treat him with caution, we don’t what kind of gear and intel he has.”

‘Oh nice to see we were able to train that muscle in your skull,’ Tim quipped as he snacked on something over the line.

“You’re just mad you can’t lift a cruise liner over your head, Boy Wimpy,” Kon bantered back even as he started slowly backing up.

‘Robin get out of there, now,’ Batman hushed as Red Hood leisurely stood up from the table and stretched suddenly, interrupting Black Mask mid sentence. Kon froze, worried about making any noise.

“This has been fun, Maskie but I’m afraid we’ll need to negotiate the terms of your unconditional surrender to me later,” Hood said lazily. His posture was casual but he was tense underneath. “We’ve got some visitors I’ve been meaning to talk to. So why don’t you put an egg in your shoe and fuck off,” he said before pulling a machine gun from underneath the table and began firing up at the vents.

‘Conner!’ He heard Tim and Bruce yell over the comms but Kon was too busy trying to get out as fast as he could. But the space was tight and currently being slammed full of bullets. Dozens of them bounced against his armor and skin and he thanked whoever would listen that he was out here instead of one of the others. He had almost retreated into the safer part of the vents when the whole thing collapsed on him.

He yelped and fell gracelessly onto the floor of the basement. Kon groaned for effect and pretended to curl up and nurse some injuries. He was really reaching inside his belt for smoke capsules and batarangs. Probably should leave some of the fake blood before he split, just to add to the illusion.

“Aw, the little birdie fell out of its nest,” Hood cooed, hefting the machine over one shoulder. “I thought I told you to scram, Sionis. If you’re not out of here in the next 30 seconds I’m putting holes in you, this one and I need to have a conversation.”

Kon heard the harried footsteps of Mask heading for the hills as Hood stomped forward, kicking away bits of the vent as he approached.

“I was hoping one of you brats would show tonight, especially you. I’ve almost got everything put in place so I’m finally ready to have some fun,” he said with a laugh in his voice as he slammed his boot into Kon’s gut. The boot was heavy, steel tipped and would probably have broken ribs but he didn’t really feel anything. Couldn’t say the same for Hood.

“Goddamn!” The crime lord shouted, jumping away and grabbing at his foot. “The hell is in your armor kid? How can you lug that heavy thing around?” Well Kon couldn’t always avoid getting shot so they had to make armor that was thicker, wouldn’t take damage so he could just pretend the bad guys missed. Plus he barely felt the extra weight even though it was heavier than B’s suit. “Guess I should be glad ole Brucie is taking better care of birds this time around.”

Thomas Conner Wayne tensed on the ground, his plans of escaping lost for a second. How could Hood possibly know that name? What was Kon gonna do about it?

“I’m gonna give you a present, Replacement,” Hood spat out. “A lot better than I got. I’m gonna beat the hell out of you, within an inch of your miserable, little life and then I’m gonna set the timer to blow this warehouse. I’ll give you a chance, won’t tie you up or stop you,” he leaned down close to Kon’s face, “I just wanna see if Bats really upgraded, if you’re better than the last one.” He straightened out.

“And don’t think Daddy Bat Wings is gonna come save your sorry ass, I know he was down by the docks. I made him think the meeting would be there so my crew is gonna divert him juuuust long enough for me to do what I need to. So,” there was a scraping sound, something dragging across the floor. “Shall we begin?”

Kon dove out of the way of what looked like a crowbar and crouched to his feet. He was still pretending to be injured but he needed to get out of here. Of course Hood couldn’t actually hurt him but it wouldn’t do for him to know that. They danced and dodged for a minute or two, but Hood was Good with a capital G. Kon was throwing all his skills and tools into trying to take the gangster down but it really was hard to avoid the vicious onslaught. The man got in a few hits every once in a while and Kon tried to react but he knew it wasn’t good enough and the man was suspicious.

“The hell is Bruce feeding you? Why won’t you stay down you little punk?” Hood yelled, whipping Kon hard across the face with the crowbar. He stumbled back against the table where a small box had been sitting. It knocked onto the floor and exposed something inside. Something green. Immediately, Kon’s knees buckled.

“Shit,” he groaned quietly to himself as he tried to inch away from the deadly rock but it was sapping all his energy. He’d only been exposed to Kryptonite once, at the Fortress because Bruce had insisted he knew what it felt like. But he was such a dad he only made Conner suffer a minute before he closed the box and took him home to Alfred for cookies. He didn’t think that’s how this story would end. He gagged as his stomach rolled and his lungs seized and if he could just move a little further away... Hood just stood there watching in stunned disbelief.

“Are you shitting me?” He asked quietly, stalking forward with surprising softness. Hood moved so much like a Bat, it was unnerving. “I brought that to prove to Mask that I really had stolen his shipment but it led me to an even bigger score.” He scooted the box closer to Kon who finally collapsed from the strain. “Now how did he get his hands on you, I wonder?”

“I’m sorry,” Kon whispered but he wasn’t talking to Hood, he was talking into the comm still plugged into his ear. “I’m sorry, I love you guys.”

“Get away from my brother!” Like some kind of angel, Kon’s blurry vision saw someone drop down from the hole in the vents and slam into Hood. He grabbed the box containing the Kryptonite and slammed it shut. Kon felt like he could breathe again. “Robin, get up. B’s delayed but I got a car outside.” It was Tim, hastily dressed in his Robin uniform and looking more mad than Kon had ever seen him.

“There’s two of you?” Hood cackled, swinging his crowbar. “Oh that’s rich, are you twins? Tell me, did he steal you from the Flashes or the Atom perhaps? you’re certainly small enough. Bad enough he replaced me once but twice over? That’s just cruel, Dad.”

“Robin, I said, get up!” Tim yelled, swinging his staff which Hood dodged. They didn’t work together often since they were playing the same role but Tim’s fighting prowess always left him in awe. And furious like he was now, he was doing a number to Hood. With the box shut, more of Kon’s strength returned until he was able to stagger to his feet. Tim was holding his own but, as Kon had discovered, the Red Hood was beast. He couldn’t do much as Tim was tossed around and slammed into the wall. His skin bruised, he bled as Hood got a knife against his throat with one hand while he unclipped his helmet with the other.

Conner had never given much thought to Jason Todd. No one really talked about him, only Tim when they snuck into each other’s rooms for sleepovers. From the way Tim described him with starry eyes, Jason had been bold but kind, sensitive and intelligent. The man before them was nothing like that, his pale face flushed with anger and his green eyes positively glowing with hate.

“Look at this,” He said gesturing to his knife covered in Tim’s blood. “You’re just as human as I am but we don’t matter, do we? We’re just pawns in his game, pawns he’ll sacrifice if he thinks it’ll give an advantage to his precious mission. That lug over there? He’s not just a pawn, he’s a knight. When B’s chewed up and spit out the rest of us, at least he’ll have his Kryptonian lapdog to keep the legacy going. I suggest you ditch the tights before you end up in the grave next to mine.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Kon hissed, bodyslamming into Hood to get him away from Tim. He ripped the knife out of his hands and threw him roughly onto the table in the middle of the room. He laid there, not moving and Kon didn’t care right now if he was dead or not. He needed to get Tim help. Tim grabbed onto the box, holding it shut while Kon grabbed his brother and flew them out of the basement and into the smoggy Gotham sky.

XxX

“Hey, you awake?” Tim groaned and turned to look at Kon. It wasn’t unusual to have his brother at his bedside in the medical portion of the Cave. It was weird to see him on the cot next to him with the sunlamp on him. His face was still pale with a sickly green tinge to it but he seemed okay.

“Ugh why does my mouth taste like plastic?” Tim gripped, wiping clumsily at his face.

“Alf had to sedate you, your throat needed stitches and you were pretty banged up everywhere else,” Kon frowned and turned to look up at the ceiling. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.”

“No one knew Hood would be there or that there was Kryptonite in Gotham. There was literally nothing you could have done,” Jason’s crazed face sprang to mind. “No one saw that one coming.”

“I’m not gonna go easy next time,” Kon growled. “He hurt you, he wanted to do some messed up torture thing and that could’ve been you and I don’t care that he used to be a Bat. As far as I’m concerned, he ain’t anymore.” 

“It’s not as easy as that,” Clark said, coming out of nowhere looking tired himself. He was still dressed in pajamas, Bruce must’ve called him in a panic. “How’re you boys holding up?”

“Been better,” Tim said at the same time as Kon. Tim snickered at Clark’s eyeroll. He should know better by now that they were a packaged deal. “How’s Bruce taking the revelation?”

“He sat here through your treatments but as soon as he heard you both were okay he buried himself in his work. I,” Clark paused. “I think he’ll need you again to get him through this, Tim. You saw how he was when Jason died. This won’t be pretty. Conner, we’d heard a large shipment of Kryptonite had been stolen but we didn’t think it had come through Gotham. We’ll be keeping tabs trying to track it down and out of enemy hands.”

“Appreciate that,” Kon groaned, “that sucked ass.”

“It might help to get out of the city for a bit,” Clark suggested cautiously and got Tim’s hackles up. “Bruce has the best sunlamps money can buy but it’s nothing like the real thing. Ma would love to take you for a week or two, to get your strength up. Or you could stay with Lois and I in Metropolis.”

“Thanks but my family is here and they need me,” Kon said shortly, rolling over to face away from Clark. Tim glared hard at the Super until he had the sense to back off.

“Right, of course, I’ll let you two rest and if you need me I’ll um...” He shuffled off, presumably to try and get B out of his own head. Tim huffed away his aggression.

Years ago, Clark hadn’t wanted the responsibility of taking Conner full time but now suddenly he was around all the time. He’d heard from B that Clark wasn’t happy with the current arrangement. He was upset that Kon was adopted while Tim was still living with his dad, that Kon took up Robin alongside Tim, upset that he hasn’t been Superboy in years and doesn’t use his powers while in costume. He’d had his chance to make a family, a legacy with Conner but now he was Tim’s brother and he’d open that Kryptonite box on the man if he tried to take Kon away.

“Kon-”

“I’m fine, Tim,” Conner said sharply. “Look, I’m not going anywhere especially not when all this is going down. I may be a Super in blood but I’m a Bat in every way that counts.” He turned and scooted over so they were face to face and whispered quietly so Clark couldn’t hear. “So how’re we gonna stop Jay before it tears Bruce apart?”

“I have some ideas,” Tim grinned. It ached that it had come to this, his idol rising from the grave to become a criminal. But Conner had become his brother over the days, months and years of training and school and stupid shenanigans. No one, not even Robin could come between them because they were Robin. Stronger together than they were alone. That’s what it meant to be a Bat. 

[rosenbergamot]

im writing an au where scar wasnt one of the founding members of boatem and just Pops up one day w his huge wagon, disturbing the very foundation of the village with his salesman grin, and initially it seems hes trying to start an industry there but hes really just running from his fucked up past and trying to make a living and let me just say that NOBODY in universe is enjoying this (he is getting rocks thrown at him by the boatem crew)