#i would starve to death i'm useless without seeing

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 (You're here) , PART 8

A little more of past trauma

Merlin, Arthur, Lancelot (who isn't a Knight yet) and some knights camping in the woods.

Knight 1: (hesitantly) Sire...

Knight 2: (careful) We need wood... for the fire, sire.

Arthur: (a little confused by their behavior) Pick some fallen branches then.

Knight 1: Ahm... (sweats)

Lancelot: (realising why they're so scared. Sighs) There's no fallen branches, isn’t there?

Knight 2: ... No.

Merlin: (thinking and looking at Arthur carefully) Oh, no...

Arthur: (hardens his features) search harder.

Knight 1: We searched the whole perimeter three times, sire. There are no branches, no even leafs.

Knight 2: These trees are practically naked. We need... We need to cut one down.

Arthur: No.

Merlin: Arthur...

Arthur: No. We don't need fire anyway.

Lancelot: (the only brave enough to contradict him apart from Merlin) Sire, we need to cook the meat and if we don't make fire we'll freeze to death.

Arthur looks conflicted. Merlin sighs. He appreciates what his prince is doing. He went as far to almost forbid all his knights to hunt and cut any plant, especially trees, ever again and he knows Arthur would have ban any of this practices all together in the entire kingdom if he weren't still a prince. Fortunatly, he talked him out of it, so now Arthur allows hunting only when strictly necessary. Cutting trees, however, was always out of the question. They managed to avoid it... until now.

Arthur: (pointing to a knight) Hey, you. Take off your shirt. We can use that.

Knight 1: What?! Sire, but-

Arthur: (very serious) Are you questioning me?

Merlin: Arthur (holds his hand and pulls him gently til they are apart from the rest). Arthur, it's okay.

Arthur: (almost shouting, firmly) No, Merlin! Not with this. No!

Merlin: (reassuring) It just hurts badly when they do it for fun or there's no need. Now we need it. It's fine.

Arthur: (shakes his head, anguish in his eyes) I can't make them hurt you.

Merlin: They wouldn't be really hurting me. Besides, would you rather let me die of hunger and freeze to death? (Puts a hand on his face and smiles) I'll be fine, I promise.

Arthur: (sighs) alright. (Goes to his Knights)

Lancelot: (aproaches Merlin, whispering) Can't you make some branches fall?

Merlin: (shakes his head) these branches aren't thick enough for a fireplace, and I need to get use to this. Arthur too.

Lancelot: (nods in understanding) He must love you a lot.

Merlin: (nervous) Wha-?! What do you mean?

Lancelot: Don't tell me you didn't notice. He was willing let us starve and freeze so you wouldn't feel any pain just a minute ago.

Merlin: He cares for me. I'm his friend.

Lancelot: I'm his friend too and he never looked at me the way he does to you, like you are the sun. Or use any excuse to touch me, like he might die if he doesn't have you close for more than 5 minutes.(pause) And I don't believe you're not aware of this either.

Merlin: (sighs) I don't want to get my hopes up. I'm happy with how things are. I don't want to ruin things between us. (Thinking) Not again.

Lancelot: (smiles encouringly) You don't have to confess your feelings or anything. Just try to make a move to taste the waters and you can decide what to do from there.

Arthur orders his knights to cut down the farrest tree they could find. It's useless though. No matter how far, Merlin still can feel it. Merlin doesn't scream in pain this time, but he still trembles and flinches. Arthur hugs him close through all this and somehow he ends up sitting on Arthur's lap, and hiding his face in the crook of Arthur's neck. He whimpers and whimpers in pain until he falls asleep in Arthur's arms.

Lancelot: (aproaching them) You should wake him before they come back.

Arthur: (shakes his head) He needs this.

Lancelot: If they see you like this they'll think-

Arthur: (sharply) They can think what they want.

Lancelot: (smiles softly) You don't really believe this is some medical disease, do you?

Arthur: ...

Lancelot: You know about Merlin.

Arthur: (sighs) And he told you. (thinking, a mix of angry, hurt and jealous) He told you before telling me.

Lancelot: No, but I catched him. He echanted the weapon I used to kill the griffin.

Arthur: (snorts) This idiot.

Lancelot: He was careful I'm just observant. Why haven't you told him that you know?

Arthur: I want him to tell me himself.

Lancelot: Why?

Arthur: He deserves that much. And I want to prove that he can trust me.

Lancelot: I don't think it's a matter of trust. He trusts you a lot, Arthur. I know he really wants to tell you but he just doesn't know how to. I mean, can you blame him? He's been told all his life he should hide who he is. I don't think he ever willingly told anyone. (sighs) Even outside Camelot, there's hardly a place where magic users are safe.

Arthur: (with conviction) When I'm king there will be. Camelot will welcome magic again and he won't have to hide anymore. (looking at Merlin sleeping peacefully in his arms, thinking) And this time he will be able to live it and enjoy it.

Lancelot: (to himself) I knew it was a sign.

Arthur: (confused) What?

Lancelot: I never told you why I came to the citadel.

Arthur: You wanted to become a Knight. (thinking) Though you arrived earlier than I expected.

Lancelot: That too, but I also had a dream.

Arthur: A dream?

Lancelot: I saw myself in a knight armor. There was some sort of hole or crack in the air, I don't know, everything's kind of blurry. But I do remmember clearly two faces. Faces I never saw before in my life, but in my dream they were familiar. It wasn't until I came here that I recognised them. They were yours and Merlin's. You were in my dream.

Arthur: (in shock, but composes himself quickly)... I see. And you believe that's a sign. A sign of what exactly?

Lancelot: That one day you will be the king I'll serve with honor.

Arthur: Right... Did you have another memo-I mean dream about us?

Lancelot: (shakes his head) That's all. (looks at the sky) It's getting late. I'll go look for the knights, they may need help. (thinking) And you can have some time alone.

Arthur: (stops Lancelot before he leaves) Lancelot. You said me appearing in your dream mean I'll be the king you'll serve one day. What about Merlin? What does he appearing in your dream means to you?

Lancelot: I thought it was obvious.

Arthur: What?

Lancelot: Well, every king needs a queen sire. (laughs a little and leaves before Arthur can process his words)

...

Tagging @everything-is-applepie , @iwillalwaysbearealfan , @merlinsbeard2 , @procrastinating-angels , @thecornerofbelu , @an-entity-i-think , @smileytrinity , @the-night-viewer , @tansyuduri , @fuckyeahsnackables , @stalesaltinecracker , @lucifertookmyshoe , @aceauthorcatqueen and @virgil-wannabe since you all left beautiful comments in the other parts. Thank you so much! 🤧. Please if you have any idea for this AU or want to see a moment in particular between these two or other characters, just ask. I'm just writing random moments that come to my mind 😅

[teaableu]

WHAT IS YOUR EXILE AU LIKE....

I HAVE BEEN WAITING AGES FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS

Okay SO a LOT is up in the air right now because I'm doing Research as best I can between classes BUT here's what i got so far:

Lord Kogane is from a very powerful family that wants to take full control over Neo Edo. They think he's doing a poor job because the yokai are running free again and he's overall a pretty useless ruler. They step in and force him to enforce some pretty Messed Up Stuff that put all the people in danger (something to do with the Makkine tech probably). Usagi and his friends have a front row seat as to what he's up to and Usagi decides he won't let them get away with it. I haven't worked out the details but the Koganes' plans threaten the people and the yokai. BUT Usagi's not strong enough to take out the Koganes on his own.

My Usagi has a mystic power of sorts, which makes him very sensitive to spirits. All of the visions he gets through the Ki stone in the show, plus his ability to speak with Miyamoto stem from this ability. A simple way of seeing it would be like, he can see the threads of their lives. So he can read souls and connect with them, and sees ghosts when others cannot. I think the Ki stone sort of unlocked and amplified it when he connected with her. I'm still working on the details of his power but basically he can see and talk to ghosts with a little extra stuff sprinkled in

So the Ki stone encourages Usagi to seek help. Turns out the Koganes have a rich history of killing entire villages and armies that oppose them, dating (maybe) all the way back to Miyamoto's time. So he finds a couple of restless ghosts that are still waiting for vengeance and asks for their help. He strikes a deal that was supposed to help him fight Kogane while allowing the ghosts to avenge themselves their loved ones and their clans. I think he would amplify their power while they help him fight. But he doesn't realize who exactly he's making this deal with and ends up tethering his soul to very powerful VERY ANGRY ghosts that are WAY stronger than he is (I've been researching onryo and yurei for reference). They can take possession of his body, amplify his emotions to be in tune with their own, manipulate his power, and generally cause a lot of destruction. Basically, he becomes their puppet. I'm thinking it's a Venom or Little Shop of Horrors type dynamic between them. Also think of any poltergeist type film

He makes the deal and the ghosts possess him. When Usagi wakes up, he's killed Kogane (who really wasn't even the Big Bad behind the whole thing) and has to flee the city before he's caught and put to death for treason and murder. His friends are all imprisoned but he can't risk returning because he has lost control of his power and is unable to control the ghosts that are bound to his soul. The ghosts are starving for power and burning with hundreds of years of fury and anguish, and feed off of destruction (maybe the living?) It's sort of a pandora's box situation. The ghosts are just a whirlwind of chaos and use Usagi as a means to exact their wrath

I called it exile because Usagi can't return to the city without being arrested and killed for his crimes. The gang was the only one standing up to Kogane, and with his friends in prison, he's sort of stuck. He blames himself for everything that went wrong because he ran off without his friends and jumped headfirst into a situation he did not understand. He was reckless and cocky and now everyone is paying for it.

That's where EMD comes in, but the story continues after EMD season 2 as well.

Some extra notes:

- The timeline for srtuc would probably be a bit different so I can have more flexibility with the season one and season two events, since I wasn't sure when it would take place and I want there to be a pretty big time gap between Usagi leaving and returning. I also might use the Makkine invasion in the story

- I’m still working out Usagi’s backstory/past, but have pretty much decided that he has some history with the Kogane family

- I'm planning for Miyamoto to have a pretty big part in the story as well, acting as a guide for Usagi when he goes into hiding. I'm really interested in their relationship so I really want to take the chance to explore it.

- I'm thinking of adding someone as a nod to Tomoe Ame as well (descendant of her apprentice perhaps), since we got a representation of Chizu, Kitsune, and Gen in the tv show but not Tomoe (sad)

I wrote out the sparksnotes version of this here

In addition to the artwork there I have some other concept art

Blood warning under the cut

[toiletwipes]

PIECES | vampire! wilbur

Part 1 — I'm here again

Summary: There's a vampire, wandering and mourning for a love that died by his hands. He wanders and drifts along the universe until the love has found him.

In this part, we meet Wilbur, a man turned into a vampire and the love he has for someone.

THIS FIC IS PART OF THIS EVENT! [The Common Fanfiction Trope Writing Event] Mainly mainly for oblivious pining! i bet i could squeeze friends to lovers in this though.

[Warnings: blood, mention of death and killing, the usual vampire stuff]

~2.6k words.

title and chapter title from the song pieces by red

———

He walks. For a long time in his life, it was all he ever did. He would walk and walk, never really needing to stop. Walked until there were no sidewalks, until there was only dirt. Till he tilted his head up and was unable to recognize the stars above him. And then he’d continue. One foot after the other.

There was never a reason to stop walking, other than to stop and feed but that was getting rarer and rarer. Starving himself wasn’t ideal but with how often he walked and how often he would walk miles without noticing it, his head somewhere else. In a different time and under a different set of stars. But starving himself was the only right thing to do, nowadays. Sure, the hunger was unbearable… if he was focused on the present.

And then… one day while he was walking, it's late at night and he entered a new town, one he hadn’t been in before. He doesn’t know why, why he stops walking for the first time in a week, why he stops and turns his head but when he does, the wind is knocked out of him, his chest tightening in knots when he sees your face.

His first victim, the first drop of blood came from you. Your death solely defined his role as a monster. It was his one regret out of all of this- becoming an eternal nightmare, cursed forever to starve and ache and burn under the heavens while everyone else lived and breathed and loved and died. Becoming this only happened because he was too weak to stay away from you, starved himself of his nature, starved himself of you.

Your death had been the nail in the coffin.

And yet.

There you stood, in an old diner, taking orders and serving drinks and meals. A smile on your face while you did it. Talking and walking and breathing and… alive.

And he hasn’t fed in a while. Couldn’t bring himself to, stuck in the useless cycle of why bother? And he could feel it in his throat, the unbearable itching, the burning. The empty pit in his stomach. It almost was too much, all of these feelings and seeing your face. Seeing you and hearing you and only able to feel the hunger consuming him. He fled the scene, hiding behind a building, and sucking down on the rats that didn’t scurry away fast enough.

An older woman had opened the door next to where he had slid down. “Oh, there you are, Wilbur, I told you not to come through the back again, there’s rats out here darling.” He ends up realizing she’d mistaken him for her grandson or someone else, but she drags him in anyways. The rats had been enough to curb the hunger, and he let her take him inside of her home. She gives him free reign of the bathroom, handing him clothes that weren’t torn to shreds by the course of time and the elements.

When he looks in the mirror, he finds a creature of extreme camouflage. A monster that blends in so well, you’d almost be entranced by the sight of him alone. The clothes are loose, they hang off him like he has no meat, and to be fair, he doesn’t have a healthy diet, but they fit well enough. And when he helps her into bed, tucks her in and closes the door behind him, he thanks her quietly and hopes her grandson makes it home safe so she won’t be alone in the morning.

Standing outside, freshly scrubbed and in a set of clothes that don’t belong or smell like him, he feels like an imposter, a wolf in sheep’s clothing if you will. He looked closer to normal and human, to something less dangerous than before. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

He finds himself heading to the diner again, unable to help himself. Were you a hallucination? Were you a dream, a mirage in the distance with his hunger caving his mind in on itself? A horrible trick to get him to slip up and fall at the hands of a well-sharpened stick?

Didn’t matter because before he could begin to think of an escape route, a bell slams against the door-frame as he steps through, the lights sting his eyes and he barely manages to seat himself in the corner with the light bulb out. It’s just a shade darker but that’s all he needs. And before he could register it happening, he sees your face, the light framing your face as if an angel to take him away. He can hear your voice clearly, asking him about his night and such as you pour him a glass of coffee. The steam rises as you nudge it closer to him. “Need anything just call for me,” you wink, tapping at the name tag pinned to your shirt. You are the one and the same in every possible way, and it's haunting.

He leaves after a few minutes, sure that had he been alive, the only thing he would hear is his heart pounding in his chest and the blood rushing to his ears but the worst part, is that he could only hear yours. Everyone else has been drowned out by how loud you are, how noisy your life is. It’s as if you’ve built a neon sign pointing at yourself, calling out for every bloodthirsty being to come and claim your soul. Maybe that’s just him. Maybe this is his personal hell. Maybe he was supposed to live through this and find it painful.

He knows he’s a sick bastard, but he didn’t know how sick he was until he returned the next night.

×

He returns for a week straight until another vampire catches him before going in, taking him to their place and telling him he needs to go eat, to change clothes, and to do something because he’s attracting a lot of attention for someone laying low.

So he shackles up with him, gets clothes with him less he wants to get caught wearing something from thirty years ago. Time is fast, these days, you can’t blame him for not paying attention to the fashion.

The eating part is hard. Because every bone in his body, every inch of his skin wants to see you. Wants to taste your blood, the sick part of him wants to know if you’d taste just as good as you did the first time. He wants to know what’s changed and what hasn’t but so far the only thing that’s changed is that you’re alive and you don’t know him at all.

He could survive it, he survived your death, he could survive your rebirth.

That is, until you caught him behind the diner, blood smeared over his clothes and six feet from the back door. He insisted on no doctors which frustrated you, he could tell, but despite the freezing temperature his body is always set at, you drag him inside. Unaware of the dead body tossed carelessly in the dumpster behind the two of you.

You sit him in the bathroom, wiping the blood from his face and demanding that he take his shirt off of his body. You even turned around, a dangerous endeavor with a creature like him. Alas, he just fed so he… felt normal. Enough. Normal to pretend that he’s a human for a brief moment and normal enough to pretend that he doesn’t want to tilt your body into his, to nudge your head to the side and kiss it like he used to. To smear praise and worship over your skin, to taste the salt off your skin and hear you call his name.

It’s times like these that he reminds himself, he’s not alive, you’re not you, the one he knew, the one he killed, and that you’re waiting on him.

You take great care of looking him over, checking for any open wounds and despite not finding any, you bravely asked if taking his pants off would be too much. He almost felt dizzy.

He puts his shirt back on and lets you tug him back to his corner, pouring him a coffee and letting him be with a soft touch to his shoulder, throwing a stern look over your shoulder as you tended to your other regulars.

He tries drinking the coffee, just to try, just to feed into his delusion if not a little bit.

He found himself back in the bathroom ten minutes later, gagging as the coffee forcefully left through his throat. It burned his mouth and throat as he sat back on his heels, trying to steady himself. You come in seconds later, brushing his hair back and feeling his forehead. The sensations are nauseating and making him lean into your touch, into your body. His nose is pressed against your apron waist as you try to talk to him.

After unsuccessfully trying to get him to call someone he knew, which, wasn’t that a funny new thing, calling and phones? He tried to laugh, though he could only let out a pathetic sigh, feeling weak.( And he fed on some poor stranger. He’s a monster, and not even a good one, at that.) But when you finally realized he wasn’t going to be any help, you heaved him out of the bathroom and took him to the back, sat him against the wall. You crouched in front of him, pushing his hair out of his forehead and looking him over, “I have one more hour and then- then I’ll. I’ll- fuck, I’ll figure something out but you’re sick and you should get checked out by a doctor or something.” And when he could only respond with a noncommittal hum, you sighed, your head dipping down.

Picking yourself back up, he can barely watch through the slits of his eyes your disappearing figure. He tried to call your name, in the language he once knew, but his mouth barely opened. And when he blinked his eyes open again, there stood the other vampire in the area. He pulls on the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward and onto his knees. “You trying to get us killed, there are hunters-” he cuts himself off, looking around, before he stares him in the eyes. “Listen to me. We’re getting you to my place, fixing you up, and you’re gonna get out of here, no more lolly-gagging and no more dilly-dallying, do not pass go and do not collect 200-” he speaks while he’s slinging him over his back. Assuming he checked for nobody watching the two of them, the vampires make an escape.

He wants to know what you think when you go back there to get him, already to go home and relax or whatever humans do nowadays, and you find him gone. He wants to know what you’d think, what you’d say. He knows it’s bad. Bad to be this obsessed already but you haunt him, every night he could dream, those he just recently found out he could have, you’d be in there. Sleeping until you’re not, smiling at him with this emotion in your eyes, fingers stroking his cheek and jaw and running your hands through his hair.

When the other vampire drops him onto the couch, he throws something squishy at him. He smells it before he even opens his eyes. It’s blood.

He just had some.

“You’re malnourished, unsocialized. You need to talk to people, yes, but they need to be like us.” The very helpful vampire grounds out. Like us, dead, crystallized in a beautiful tomb of eternal suffering. Monsters till the end of time. While he tears the corner of the blood bag open, he tries not to think about how refreshed he feels. He tries to not think too hard about how he would never enjoy blood like he enjoyed yours. It’s the only semi-clear memory he has of drinking blood from people. They’re few and far in between instances, and he doesn't like it. But it happens. And the only time he ever enjoyed it, had been— horribly— yours. The sweet and nectarine taste, soothing his throat, the high he’d been on, how full he felt- of course, that all attributed to the fact he practically mauled your throat and drained you till you died in his arms.

This is his defining moment as a monster.

×

Of course— he would’ve left immediately, he had some blood, felt normal enough, changed clothes and when he looked in the mirror, he looked more human than he had the last time he checked.

And when he was asked what his name was by the vampire, he didn’t think about it for long, choosing to stick with what he knew. “Wilbur,” he said, turning to the window. They’d gone so high up, he wondered when did the humans ever begin to fly, how did they get here? He was curious but as he pulled away from the window and dragged to a shop, for the purpose of an ID- he doesn’t know why, he’s left to fend for himself.

He begins walking again, and against the wishes of the very same vampire who’s clothed, fed and identifies him, he knows where he starts to walk.

“Your name is Wilbur Soot,” he recalls the vampire telling him, “you’re just passing through, making his way home. And if someone knows about, you know- your condition, show them this.” He looks down to the business card the vampire had given him. “They’ll help you. This is all I can do for you.” He walks and keeps putting one foot in front of the other until it takes him to a diner. Your diner.

×

“You scared me last night,” you murmur to him, reaching over to give him a one-arm hug with a tray stabilized on your other hand. “How did you even leave?” He knows, he just doesn’t know what to tell you. After following you to an empty table, you make your rounds to the other customers before you return to him. “Did you at least see a doctor?”

He licks his mouth before looking up to you, finding it easy to lose himself in your eyes, your expression. Eyebrows pinched together from concern and a frown as you continued to wait for an answer.

“I… I didn’t eat enough and the coffee just didn’t sit right, I suppose.” He wonders if you believed him.

“You supposed? There was literal blood when you were puking.” Your name is called and you call back over your shoulder. You press your lips into a firm line, staring him down. He wonders, if it helps that after aching for you for so long, he would be satiated for the rest of his life, enough to leave you behind and truly keep you safe this time. “You’re fine now?” He nods, he’d never be fine. He’ll be a monster longer than you’d ever be alive, but for your sake, he nods. You tap your fingers on the tray as you quickly think, “we’re not done talking about this,” you warn him, pointing a finger at him in warning as you walk away from him.

And well, his heart almost leapt out of his chest, bloody tendons connecting it to him, but safely tucked away in your hands, he could see the metaphorical lines thin themselves out as you disappeared behind a door.

He comes to grips with himself and realizes he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satiated. Not when you care so freely, not when you are breathing and living and existing again. Not when you pass him by and squeeze his shoulders as you go.

He knows for a certainty he’ll be alive for many more centuries, he’ll stay this way, needing the living’s blood to make sure he doesn’t wither away. He knows that for an absolute certainty… but he doesn’t know if he could survive the separation from you again.

He knows he wouldn’t want to.

[shoko-komi]

The Komi Report - Communication 450

Komi is a day early!? This week in Komi Can't Communicate:

Broth is sampled...

...and dreams are dashed upon the stones.

Read It: Mangareader Mangakakalot Viz Media (North America Exclusive) Mangadex (English updates are dead, but there’s the backlog; and Spanish + Portuguese language updates)

I was caught completely by surprise this morning when I woke up and had a notification from the r/komi_san discord server (I exclusively use it for the new chapter notifications. All other notifications are muted and I never go in there because I value my sanity aklsdnlkasndlaksnd).

Now that tensions within the broth crew have been loosened they can get into the favourite pastime of friends everywhere - good-natured bickering.

Nanoda was so timid when she first appeared, so it's really nice to see her coming out of her shell.

I've only eaten good restaurant ramen once - other than that it's been 2 minute stuff - so I don't know what to make of this smelly-ramen vs unsmelly-ramen conflict. Where do you stand?

My girl is flopping so hard at this aksdlkansd.

I might have a hard time explaining this one, but; I love seeing Komi fail. She tried her best to settle the ramen dispute but doesn't know what to do and is sort of useless.

Part of it is I want her to learn that she doesn't need to be problem solver girl all the time, and her friends will like her and want her around even if she isn't "usefull". She's a leader among her peers but it's ridiculous to put everything on her own shoulders, and her peers can solve their own problems such as in the case of the broth. All Komi needs to do to be valuable is be there.

The other part of it is my sadism flaring up.

Really funny that she blames him here. A girl needs her tantrums

Only a brief glimpse of them..... Oda you tease me.....

Also add an entry to the list of left-handed Sukida appearances

My complements to tumblr user fareasterncurlew for this infographic which I think about every day

Classic Najimi gag

Miwa Omojiri my beloved, hello again. Also Tsubo is so me... I would be laughing so hard....

Such heart-breaking news after all their hard work. I love how the camaraderie of the class keeps them in good spirits!!! So many times I've been in a bad situation but I've felt alright because I could laugh about it with good company.

It brings a tear to my eye....

This is really funny but also!! Ogiya comforting Kori is super nice after them being recently at odds. Kori blended into the group so quickly after they figured him out.

The culture festival!!!! AAAAAA I'm excited

We've been shown this beautiful glimpse of what Hiki and the girls are up to. Aaaahh, maid cafes. Literally what would we do without them?

Oda I'm still waiting for a follow up to the Susumi/Hiki yuri...... and I want Yamai/Nakanaka band yuri.... and I want SukiYama yuri.... Oda give me yuri please I'm starved Oda I'm starved to death and dying fatally.......

I hope the culture festival is 50 chapters long and every character is featured and has a super funny joke and there's lots of yuri and wakai dies mysteriously between chapters and is never mentioned again and we find out the details of the Ase/Naruse kiss and Benujit Spopo appears and Tadano is force-femmed permanently and there's happiness, free, for everyone!!!!! And no one is left behind!!!!

Stay safe! I'll see you next week!

[hrtzz]

Konig x Ftm reader ANGST!!!

Harmless he always called you. At least you were.

WARNINGS: Gore, Konig hating you on his death bed, sad shit basically, transphobia

It was never-ending. The ring in your ear wouldn't stop coming, constantly scratching at your ear drum making horrific songs against it. Swift bombs that would make the earth beneath you shudder with fear, along with your legs. Horrifying screams begging for god to give them another chance. Unfortunately, you had never seen a war like this, and the worst part of this... you caused this. A small slip up... a blunder in your tactic had caused all these men their doom. Pathetically you stared at a man on the ground, unmoving and thoughtless, a shell. You wipe your nosebleed for the fiftieth time sniffling as your head cocks to see your co-commander (also your boyfriend) lying up against his side. Rapidly, you dash towards him attempting to sling the man double your size over your shoulder.

“Let go of me you little shit!” he cursed under his breath as he gripped his side. His words were venomous to your heart, never in his life had he spoken to you like this. “Konig… I-” Your words catch up in your throat piercing your vocabulary. “I said let go drop me now!” You let him fall to the floor and stare down at him. Despite you being the one looking down on him you still feel completely powerless in this situation. It all gets overwhelming and tears threaten your irises. “I- I can save you… please let me save you…” All you got back was a weak kick at your shin “Get the fuck away from me you useless bitch!” Konig spat back, gripping his side still as he carried on his rant “You are harmless to our enemy but managed to kill an entire battalion! WHEN WILL YOU FUCKING REALISE YOUR ARENT BUILT FOR WAR! ALL THIS SHIT! ALL THESE MEN SO YOU CAN FEEL MORE MAN?! You're fucking selfish and pathetic."

You sweep a tear from your cheek. He knew exactly where to hit you. You constantly told him how being in the army, and being treated like a manly man gave you a bit of euphoria. He was digging at you and he was hitting hard.

“I didn't mean any of this…” you squeak back

“Well you caused it, didn't you?! You're no man, I doubt you're even a fucking person!” Konig coughed

He hates you, but you love him, so despite his protest, you pick him up once he falls unconscious so there's no struggle and you manage to find him a medic and get him to safety.

Despite being off the battlefield the war wasn't over. Konig woke up to you by his side staring at the floor. He didn't say a word and just glared at you. You couldn't stand the silence “Good morning…” you whisper to him. No response. Just a slow press on the emergency button before a nurse comes rushing in. “Sir! Is everything alright?” she says frantically her demeanour calming down after she sees Konig awake. “Get him out,” he says sharply side-eyeing you.

You realise whats happening quickly and panic “Konig! No! Please! I'm sorry I still love you I didn't mean for any of that to happen! I don't know what to do without you please can we just talk? We don't even have to talk I can just sit here in silence I'm sorry I need you please.”

You looked pathetic, like a starving animal. You screamed cried and begged for forgiveness in a mistake you didn't even make. Konig knew it wasn't your mistake. He knew it was his, but who would the commanders believe more? A 7-year experience commander or a fresh one with little experience. It was his job or you, and he lived for the smell of fresh gunpowder.

He didn't say a word to you as you left. Now you were outside the hospital in tears calling your friend to pick you up.

After a harsh conversation, you slammed the door to your apartment and sat in the silence of it. Looking at all of Konig's things not knowing what to do with any of it.

[blindedbythedarkness]

The Undeniable Dystopia is Here.

Life is bad. Like shockingly, horrifyingly bad. Growing up really felt like living through a series of unfortunate events- I was certainly repeatedly traumatized. But I never had to fight for my life every single day. That's where we are right now, and yet 95% of people can't or won't acknowledge reality. Hell really is empty and all the devils are here.

We live in a cesspit of plague. That's the state of the entirity of the Western world. I didn't want it at the start because I knew I was more "vulnerable" to its effects. Now I'd avoid it with just as much effort even if I was the healthiest person on Earth. The vaccines didn't stop the death, they just made it slower so people wouldn't notice.

All around me the effects are obvious. Everyone is ill. "The worst colds ever" and "the first year they've ever had hayfever". Quality of life is plummeting. Life expectancy is plummeting. Workers shortages. The internet full of people begging society to change course but incapable of leaving their beds to plead in person. Babies born tiny and starved, the effects on their brains untold. Kids collecting autoimmune diseases like pokemon cards. More Strep. More RSV. Kid after kid with their limbs stripped to the bone to stop the bacteria killing the rest of them. Brain damage termed just "brain fog." Friends of friends dropping dead. Strokes galore.

But you only see it if you're willing to open your eyes.

I can't study safely. I can't sit my exams without risking another hit of the virus that has already left me more disabled. It's not safe to go to the shops. It's not safe to sit in my own garden without a mask. It's not safe to go to the hospital- I know for sure because that's where I caught it last time. Every possible step forward, every possible move, every single day, involves a level of risk I couldn't comprehend 4 years ago.

I don't have PTSD, because we are not 'post'. The trauma is still growing.

At uni, I sit there in full PPE. PPE I spent more money on than I can afford, as someone who lives on less than minimum wage. I look around the room for the seat with the best ventilation, the best chance of air flow. I'm not religious, but I pray. Because I cannot afford to become even more disabled and I cannot afford to disable the person I love most. And then in filter 200 people who no longer care who they hurt with what they spread. Most avoid me- an uncomfortable reminder of the ongoing horror. One decides to sit next to me, coughing, excitedly asking me if I will be joining them for post-exam drinks. Indoors. Unmasked. We live in parallel worlds and yet they cannot even acknowledge that much.

They jet off abroad. Go to clubs. Have a sniffle but visit gran anyway. I pay attention when watching shows set in other dystopias, taking note of how to clean and suture a wound at home if needed. We cannot risk the hospital. I grow vegetables as the online prices rise and we cannot risk a trip to the store. I'm reminding my family what's at stake and begging them to protect themselves because I can't lose anyone else. And I'm praying.

Once again, just like when I was a teen, I find my comfort in misunderstood monsters and outcasts. The lonely characters that the world hates, who break down in tears when shown an ounce of kindness. I get wrapped up in the fantasy of having a safe space where I can finally let my guard down just for a minute. Where I can finally feel seen and see a bearable future. And when I see their visible scars, I feel them too, and I struggle against the urge to make more of my own.

There's no one coming to help me though and no safety in sight. There is just endurance. Even what remains of the mental health service is useless- why would I explain my pain to someone likely happily spreading the very virus that has created this hell? And I can't ask for support from my uni- they've made their views clear that this is my "anxiety" and I'm merely "overly cautious".

But I caught it, so not cautious enough. And it damaged my already disabled body further, so not anxious enough.

The undeniable dystopia is here and there is no end in sight.

[ray-talks]

2/28/24

i have been so depressed.

i have not made an entry in four days, because i was binging throughout them. this may sound strange, but i'm not even that upset about it. i felt so empty that i said "fuck it" to myself and ate whatever i wanted, just to fulfill the emptiness within me. doubts began to bud in my mind. on saturday, i kept questioning my goal -- the purpose of it, my motivations for it, and whether it was reasonable. my suicidal ideation became very high and i contemplated just going for it. i find that i do not understand what makes me wish to be "at ease" with my death, or that i should accomplish something before i die, or make something of my suffering. i can't say there is a reason for any of this. therefore, what reason is there to not die now? i have stated before that i am scared that my goal is nothing more than an excuse to avoid dying. i worry that this is the case more and more.

on a practical level, it is very unlikely i will succeed in my goal -- to the deepest extent i have desired -- for multiple reasons. it would take a long time, and for it to work i'd have to find ways to restrict even further, which would be impossible in my current circumstances. and to achieve the opportunity for that freedom to fully restrict -- again, it would be a long time -- i would have to successfully convince the people around me i can live independently. the biggest reason, though, that my goal has a small chance of success, is because i doubt that i can last that long without trying to end it all, or generally avoid become so depressed i no longer have the drive to accomplish my goal. i do not believe i have said this before but a concern i had was that i knew that to accomplish my goal i had to be depressed --depressed enough that i would be willing to consistently starve myself. however, if i became too depressed, i would start to not give a shit about the goal, either becoming preoccupied with death or having no will to fight against my instincts to eat. this may be what is happening. i've come to the conclusion is that i should wait. wait for a while to see how my feelings and thoughts evolve over this topic. it is possible that i am avoiding death again, but i'm too attached to my goal to throw it away entirely. i will continue to restrict with the best of my abilities throughout march. if i find that it is over for me, and that my goal is useless, i'll begin to make preparations for my death.

i had therapy today. to say it "went bad" would be an understatement. over the weekend i had a conversation with my mom, and i began to lie about my mental state, saying that i think i've improved and my medications might be working well for me. i sprinkled in that i thought interventional psychiatry might be unnecessary for me. i managed to convince my mom it should be something that we wait for and see whether or not it is needed. i was happy that i was able to do this. however, life seems to throw a wrench into my plans, because my therapist explicitly told me that if i do not go through with interventional psychiatry, they will drop me. this is problematic for me, as it would deeply alarm my family if my therapist dropped me and informed them that i am "too bad" for them to ethically continue as my therapist. my therapist also threatened to drop me, if i revoked my release of information to my parents. they told me they will call my mom and inform her that they are concerned about my well-being and that i should absolutely go through with interventional psychiatry. essentially, my therapist is twisting my arm to receive treatment that i do not want -- leveraging that i need to comply with my parents to force me into it. i cannot let my parents know that i have completely given up and do not want help, that'll make my situation much worse. i can't be stopped or interfered with if i am flying under the radar. if they are aware of my actual state, they'll never trust me again, they'll revoke any freedom i have, and who knows what they'll force me into. the worst case scenario is they'd get me to be hospitalized again. what could i even say to them?-- "i'm going to starve myself and eventually kill myself, whether you like it or not, so just stand by and let me do that"? they'll never accept that shit. if i don't immediately get out of it by literally dying, then it'll be horrible for me.

i'm not necessarily mad at my therapist. i understand -- it's for my "own good". but it is so frustrating and puts me in the worst position. i am deeply unhappy knowing that my therapist will tell my mom that they think i am severely unwell. she'll know that i have been lying to her. she'll be upset and bombard me with questions and concerns. i don't even know what i'll say to that. i am honestly so stupid and i am genuinely angry at myself. i think i have made a grave mistake. my plan on how to conduct my behavior with my therapist was to be realistic -- have my actions and what i say seem reasonable that align with my past behavior, and not try to suspiciously be magically better, all the while omitting crucial details about what i am actually thinking/feeling. it's like a jumble of honesty and dishonesty, a lot of what i say are half-truths, or even truthful, but i am omitting many details, but also straight-up lying when needed. this has backfired on me, because i seem too similar to what i was like, and if i don't make myself look better at all, it reflects badly and makes my therapist want to make drastic changes to fix the plateau in my progress. i am kicking myself so hard for this. i shouldn't have been so paranoid that i would appear as fake. it is also extremely upsetting because i have no fucking control over my life. 3/4ths of everything i do is to appease others, to play a character to others, and i am somehow under the thumb of the people around me. i feel taken advantage of too, because my therapist is legitimately manipulating me and threatening me into doing what they want, regardless if it is for a "good reason". to be honest, i was blindsided by this, because i didn't expect for my therapist to do something like this to me.

so, yes, the past few days have been excruciatingly stressful. let's not forget that it is midterm week and i am swamped with schoolwork that i am obligated to do! and to top it all off, i got into a car accident as well. the most inconvenient, horribly timed incident. the second i got home i started bashing my head against the wall (ha-ha). before i end this entry, though, i will say that today's restriction resumed seamlessly. i ate little and was able to purge it. can't say it makes up at all for the past few days. i will also be unable to restrict soon because i will be on a trip with my family, so my progress is going down the drain.

to finally end this... to address those who read this, i hope you are having a better time than me.

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[vampkillr]

Midnight — Bruce Wayne

m! reader — 3.2k words — slight angst — mention of suicide — reader is based off of v (for vendetta) — written with bale's batman in mind — reupload of a longer version. the new section is under the spacer. treat it as a timeskip

There wasn't pride amongst my many sins. I was never proud of the things I did, not even while I was doing them— but Gotham was a sick city. Infected by the cancer of the rich, who not only ate everything in their path, but consumed the poor's future. The sick were left to wither and wilt, the homeless were left to freeze, and those who were lucky enough to still have a home were forced to decide between going to bed full or going to work clean. I was among the lucky. The ones who got out. The ones who managed to crawl and break through the dirt the rich buried us under. Yet my freedom was handed to me, I didn't have to fight for it.

Seeing how people like this live, seeing their comfort, their carelessness— it drove me mad. Which is why I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision to cleanse Gotham. Cure it. I tried to do things legally. I tried to do it without leaving a trail of death in this change's wake, but every time I used my privilege for good there was a new issue curated just to prevent the poor from thriving. Shelters put in place, and in return new heath inspection rules to have a reason to shut them down. Homes built and destroyed, funding schools and drugs being set loose close to the gates. Gotham's officials did whatever they could to keep the dying parts of the city on it's deathbed.

He had a menacing aura. Standing across from me in the rain and saying nothing, almost as if he was expecting me to run or try to kill him, too. He was waiting for something it seemed. Waiting for me to get scared. The light from the moon reflected his suit in a pale, almost sickly blue hue. I wasn't afraid, though. I didn't have it in me to be scared anymore. Not after the things I've done. "Are you here to turn me in?" My pace towards him was slow, cautious.

"You don't regret what you've done?" His voice was rocky, dark.

"If I stopped to think about something as human as my guilt when trying to fix a system designed to fail its people, nothing will get done." I said plainly. "These men and women, they force people onto streets and are the reason they starve and die. Just like you I am a symbol. A sign to Gotham that someone truly does care."

"You're nothing like me." He sounded almost angry.

"Of course," I took my hat off, my thumb slipping under my mask, but before I could lift it he grabbed my wrist. The grip wasn't angry or harsh, but it was firm with worry. I slipped my hand out of his grasp and took the mask off. "We as people, individuals. We may be nothing like each other." I handed him my mask. "But this mask, just like yours, is useless without the hope it provides. We are not people when we put them on. We're ideas. Dreams of a better tomorrow. We do what we do in hopes that we won't have to do it anymore." He stared at my mask, staying silent. He wasn't much for words. "There isn't rebirth without death. You cannot stop corruption without severing the section that's infected. You're free to turn me over to the police, but you have the option to pretend we never crossed paths. The fate of Gotham rests in your hands with your decision. But I think you know just how badly I'm needed."

We stood there at a stalemate for a while,he seemed to be deep in thought until he handed my mask back to me. "I don't agree with the way you go about things." I wished for a more fruitful conversation from him, but I would have to settle.

"We'll meet again, Batman. Another time, or perhaps you'll approach me without the mask." I mused.

I woke up to a strange feeling. The guttural sense of a presence. A primal instinct unleashed just from the feeling of being watched. I was on guard from the moment my body jolted itself upward, but the sight of his figure in front of my now-opened window was just enough to ease the fight in me. I laid back down, not having a care in the world who was in my home. "You truly are a nocturnal animal." I sighed, tiredness slowly seeping itself back into my veins like a toxin. "This couldn't have waited until morning?"

"I won't be Batman in the morning." Ah, of course. How silly of me. "I just need to know why you showed me your face." It must have been on his mind for days if that's all he broke in to ask. I stood up and walked towards him, not caring about my lack of clothes. It was his fault for breaking in, he would have to deal with the consequence of seeing me in just my briefs.

"You chase after sinners and beat them down. The idea of you strikes fear in the hearts of the wicked— but also the desperate. The people who are left with no choice but to do unspeakable things just to survive." His frown as he looked at me showed me guilt. "You have a vendetta. One against criminals, not crime. I have one against the world that creates those criminals. I am V, exactly for that word. That is the idea that I am. You can't kill an idea as vehement and virtuous as a vendetta. With that mask, I am Vengeance. As are you. But without it I am but a face. As meaningless and missable as the muscle below it, and the bone below that." My hand rested against his chest, the touch was gentle— a small push in the right direction. The fact he was even letting me touch him was proof enough that I was getting to him. "I've showed you my flesh. I've given you my armor of an idea, and revealed to you just a man. A man you can turn in or kill, or a man you can relate to. My question is, will you do the same?"

His stance changed. Almost as if his muscles breathed their own sigh of relief, but it was only for a second. "What if I'm the type of person you go after?" The deep voice he wore earlier was completely gone, and all that remained was a melodic and smooth tone. It rang of confidence despite the nature of the question.

"Would you like to see my list?" I turned to walk to my drawer, not waiting for a response and pulling a notebook out. It's pages were filled top to bottom with the names of people and their hand in keeping the poor disadvantaged. There were so many I had yet to get to— so many people who needed to die before I could fix the issue. He read the pages intently, searching like a madman for his own name. As he thumbed through the pages I leaned back on my bed. "You know," He stopped to look at me, the eyes trailing along my body not going unnoticed. "as long as your money isn't being used to harm people, your name's not on there."

Sitting down was starting to have it's consequences. I was so incredibly tired. It burned to just keep my eyes open, my muscles ached just from being used. I needed to rest. I had been awake for days and just when I finally passed out he woke me up again. "You seem exhausted." He stated simply and I didn't have it in me to lie to him.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know why I was apologizing. I had no fucking idea, and it seemed to confuse Batman as well. Saying sorry for being tired seemed like such a ridiculous thing.

"Please don't apologize," It seemed like he had more to say. As if he wanted to just walk up to me, but he made no move to reach for me. I could see the way his stance was forward, the way his hand itched to touch me. He cleared his throat, forcing himself backwards. The cold facade was draped over him once more— the change in his aura was almost visible. "I'll be back at another time." His voice was back to the deep tone.

It was like I was watching him detach himself from me, and it was hard to describe how oddly painful that was. Some part of my heart knew who he was. I yearned for him, and I knew that, I just didn't know why. He was gone the next moment I looked at the window. All that was left of his presence was the open window and the cold breeze that pushed my curtains to flow and bleed further into my room. I didn't bother getting up to close it. My body would have collapsed on my way to lay back down, so I just fell asleep.

Morning came sooner than I would have wanted it to, and Ivan wouldn't take 'five more minutes' for an answer. The gravity against my body felt so horrendously heavy that even sitting up from my bed was a difficult task. "Sir, are you alright?" He asked, handing me a cup of coffee. I took a moment to hold back the sigh my body was begging to release before I dared to respond.

"Do you think what I'm doing...." I had no idea how to word my question. I didn't even know what answer I wanted from him— I just needed some type of reassurance. Some type of ease from the toll it was taking on me. "Is any of it worth it?" My gaze was locked onto the liquid in the mug. Moving in ripples, my reflection just barely visible.

"Killing people, no matter who it is or for what— taking human life can scar a sane man." My eyes shot up to him.

"You find me sane?" There was a timidness in my voice that I couldn't shake. Ivan walked around the breakfast cart and sat himself down next to me, a hand on my back. Warm compared to the cold of my skin he touched.

"Do you remember the first time you did it?" I nodded softly. There's still nothing that can wash the god-awful stain of that night from my eyes. It followed me. They all did. "You slammed that door shut and started to cry. Blood all over you— ruined the carpet." I didn't remember the getting home part, and I think he knew that. "You wouldn't get up off of the floor. I had to carry you and give you a shower. You wouldn't talk. Wouldn't move on your own." I looked at my coffee in a blank stare. Parts of what he was describing we're coming back to me. The memory so faint it was as if it was a scene I was only able to visualize. Sitting on the floor of the shower and Ivan kneeling down to wash the blood off of me. His suit jacket was discarded along with the pile of my own clothes, red staining his white undershirt from where I had been holding onto him and sobbing. "The next morning you tried to kill yourself with a piece of the glass I dropped." He didn't need to remind me of that part.

"You didn't have to... Mention that." I regretted doing that to him. Making him see me like that. I hated thinking about it.

"I did. Because if you were crazy you wouldn't have tried to do that." He stood up and started to unload the breakfast cart, probably because he wanted me to eat before the food got cold. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my boy, you understand? I raised you and I took care of you from the moment Mr. and Mrs. Crowne took you away." He continued his business with the food while I thoughtlessly nursed the coffee that had finally cooled enough for me to drink. "I was the one that got you up for school, I was the one who helped you with your homework, I was the one who taught you how to shower, I was the one you came to for advice—" I cut him off.

"I'm your son." His lip quivered at my reassurance. It was the first time either of us actually acknowledged the bond we clung to.

"My boy."

"Your boy." I knew all too well this was brought on by the conversation of my attempt just moments ago, and I would never be able to verbalize to Ivan how sorry I'll be for the rest of my life that he had to witness it.

"I don't want you to call me dad. I just want you to know that you're never not going to be my son to me." He pushed the cart and set the tray of food on my side table. "I know you want to die. I know you want to get away from the things you've done— things you're going to do. And I know that you wonder if someone would do those things for you if you really did give up. But they won't. Gotham is scared, and you and that Batman are the first of hope it's seen in a while." He kissed my forehead. "And if you ever try some bullshit like that again I'll kick your sorry ass, you hear me?" I couldn't help but laugh at his threat as he left me to eat my breakfast. Today, there was nothing I had to do. It was rare for these days to pop up anymore and I worshipped them when they came to me. I wouldn't be holed up in an office running my company, I wouldn't be stuck in meetings or phone calls, I just got to relax and I savored it. I laid back in bed after I ate, needing to catch up on much-needed rest.

That feeling again. The sense that someone was there. It stirred me awake and I was shocked to be met with the moonlight through my window. "Hello," I greeted Batman softly, sitting up from the bed and trying to massage the headache from my temples because of how long I had slept. "I'm sorry for things getting cut short last night." There was no response from him as he walked towards me. I swung my legs off the side of the bed and waited for him.

"If I take this mask off, If I show you who I am then that's it. I'll be in your life forever. But if you don't want that, then I can keep this mask on and you never have to hear from me again." My brows furrowed as he kneeled down in between my legs, looking up at me. There was a gloss of hope in his eyes, one that was so familiar to me.

"That sounds like a big commitment just to see your face, don't you think?" My words made his demeanor change into a cold one once again, but as his body moved away from mine I grabbed his face and pulled it back. "Don't do that," I whispered. "don't go looking for a reason to push me away." He seemed to think about it for a few seconds before soothing himself back into me, one hand resting on my thigh and another hand snaking its way around my calf. The touch was intimate, and yet he wasn't thinking twice about it. "If I do this," My fingers played with the edges of his mask. "will you really stick by me?" No one's ever done that for me in my life besides Ivan, and although I wanted it desperately— the idea of it scared me a little.

"I won't have the strength to let you go again." Again.... So we did know each other already. I thought about it for a moment, but the longer I took the more desperate the look on his face became. "Please..." He started to plead. The once strong and terrifying batman was now just that. A man. Tearing up in front of me and begging for me to let him into my life. And a small part of me wanted him. I wanted the touch of his hands grasping for me. I wanted the feeling of his face against my fingers. I wanted to stare into his eyes. So I slipped the mask off.

My breath caught in my throat. "Bruce?" He reached for me, standing up and pushing me back gently with my face in his hands. "Y-you.... You were dead I—" Happiness, rage, grief. They all swirled inside of my chest at a pace my body couldn't physically handle. None of my confusion, none of my words would slip from my tongue. All that I could think about was the guilt that ate me alive. I couldn't believe that I forgot his eyes. The eyes that I adored so much.

"I'm here now," He shushed me and kissed the tears that fell from my eyes. "I'm so sorry..." We both held onto each other for dear life. I gripped onto his cape, my face buried in the crook of his neck as I breathed in his scent. It was so foreign to me and yet nostalgic at the same time. I wanted more of it. I wanted to stay there with him just to make up for the lost time. He flipped us over so that I was laying on top of him, but his suit was uncomfortable against my skin.

“Bruce...” I got off of him. “Your suit.” Without another thought he took everything off, discarding it on my floor and pulling me back onto him in my bed. I missed this closeness, this comfort. “Why did you disappear?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes and threatening to fall once again. “Why'd you leave me?” My voice shook. I could feel the way he hugged me tighter to him.

“I wanted to understand criminals more, it wasn't my intention to just leave you the way I did,” He sighed, fingers tracing along my spine. “I started being afraid that you'd hate me for the things I was doing, so I didn't try to contact you. I went 7 years without talking to anyone including Alfred, and when I came back....” I could feel the way his heart was racing. Feel how nervous he was to finally be holding me.

“You became batman.” I finished his sentence for him and he nodded. There was silence between us for a while. I didn't know what I wanted to say and I didn't know how I wanted to say it. Sure, I was upset at him. Livid that he could just leave so easily— but I knew better than anyone that somewhere in that brain of his, he genuinely thought he would have been sparing me. Bruce was terrified of himself. Of the possibilities. He knew very well what he was capable of, and there was a fear within him that somehow, for some reason, he would hurt me.

We would have to figure things out again. We'd have to learn the trust we lost. We'd have to work through those fears. But what mattered was that we would be able to. What mattered was that he was with me.

likes and reblogs are appreciated and very much desired please lord my engagement has been total ass recently help a brother out — ALSO please check the post under my pinned request are open until monday

[softie-rain]

Meet me at the Hanging Tree

previous chapter: chapter eight

Pairings: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Series Warnings: Murdering, described death and violence, suicide, death for natural causes such as starving, hypotermia, dehydratation and wounding infection.

Series Summary: Panem, governed by President Magnus, is getting ready for the 75th Hunger Games. It's in this Memory Edition that the reader will learn how far one can go for the loved one, even if that could bring her to certain death.

Chapter nine: I can't do this anymore

pt.1

Summary: Y/n and Peter's reunion seems to bring a small spark of hope in their hearts. But nothing lasts forever right?

a/n: I apologise for how bad written this is. You all deserved a better reunion, I know, I'm sorry, but it's honestly already much that I wrote this. But in part two I will try and do a flashback so you guys can enjoy it more I promise!

I also apologise fore the final scene. Don't hate me I love you all

also i don't wanna brag or anything but I took this photo down here 😌

Y/n's tears were consuming her. She wasn't even feeling fear, just sadness. Darwin- she needed Darwin.

But he couldn't come to her right? How could he?

And Peter, God Peter. He was supposed to meet her at that stupid tree, why wasn't he there yet?? She wanted to yell. She was so mad. She wanted to yell. To kill. To die.

No.

She had promised Darwin that she would have won, she had to maintain that promise.

And she was going to.

~~~

Two days before

Darwin and Peter were staring at each other so hard that Lorna and y/n were scared they were going to kill each other.

"How lucky of us to run into each other, uh?" Darwin said, his voice low and somehow dark. "How lucky." Lorna raised an eyebrow, shocked by the scene that was playing in front of her.

Even if she wasn't showing it, y/n's feelings were pretty much the same. "Guys come on! Really? We need to move. Now." She walked past the two very mature boys and started picking up the bag Darwin had previously left falling in shock.

Peter rushed to get next to her while Darwin scoffed and walked next to Lorna, who was definitely tired of that useless- whatever the two had going on.

"So, uhm, are you ok?" The girl suppressed a chuckle at Peter's effort of starting the conversation. "As ok as I can be here." He nodded, an obvious answer to an obvious question. "It's great to see you again too, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't follow you after the bloodbath I, I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's fine, really. I'm not blaming you." Which wasn't totally a lie. "You know Bobby?" Y/n kept walking without meeting his eyes, but nodded. The boy who died the- second? third day?

"He died because of me. Kind of. He was going to kill me but Lorna got him first." She turned to him and gave him a sympathetic look. It was… weird. Weird, to have him standing right there in front of her. When she and Darwin were running away from the almost encounter with the Careers the last thing she expected was to run- literally- into Lorna and Peter.

And yet there he was. She missed him, there was no point in denying it, but how was she going to act now? For three days her plan was to survive and find Peter. Now it was just to survive, probably.

"How was it?" She asked. "Letting him die. Was it hard?" He shook his head. "I'm not sure. I mean, better them than you. That's what keeps me going. But no, watching someone dying isn't easy at all."

She bit her bottom lip, unsure on how to continue the conversation. She didn't have to though, as Lorna interrupted them. "Hey lovebirds, if you two are done with the heartbreaking reunion, it's about to get dark so we better start looking for a shelter of some kind." Y/n stared at Lorna. Really stared at her.

All she could see was a strong independent woman, but also very alone, and probably sad. She was still scared of her, even more now that she knew she didn't have any problem in killing, but some part of her was pitying the dark-haired girl.

No one at the reaping had apparently stood up for her, seemingly she didn't seem to have a family. Or maybe they didn't care about her enough to cry for her clear death sentence?

Darwin agreed with her. "She's right, let's go."

After spending the night under a tree, y/n woke up unsurprisingly exhausted. After the first night, her sleep kept being disturbed by nightmare after nightmare, and not even having Peter by her side helped in stopping them.

As she observed the others getting ready to leave again, her mind wandered back to the breakfast in the Capitol. She refused to allow herself to miss the city but, the food? She definitely missed that.

And, honestly, Charles and Emma too. Her last words with him weren't on the best terms, and she wondered if she was ever going to take a chance to apologise to him.

She was about to follow Darwin to talk to him, when Lorna's scream pierced the air. "Lorna?!" Peter yelled immediately, his neck turning so fast y/n was scared he was going to break it.

Her hand was pierced by an arrow, which left the whole group stunned, and Lorna terrified. Wait, terrified?

"Well would you look at that. Lorna Dane is terrified!" Everyone looked up from where the voice came and of course there they were, in all their awful glory. The Careers.

Scott was the one holding the bow so they assumed also the one to shoot the arrow. Y/n seriously doubted that he had missed her heart because she saw him at training. He had an impeccable aim. Why not kill her on the spot then?

Behind Scott Ororo and Rogue were standing proud, the first one's smirk almost as if to make fun of the group standing down. Kurt and Warren were with them, but looking less proud of themselves than the others.

"Run!" Darwin yelled, carrying Lorna with him. Immediately Peter took y/n's arm and led her away from the enemies, running without a specific destination. As they did, she looked behind them. Darwin and Lorna were escaping too, but they were slower than them.

She could literally feel the panic rising in her chest as she spotted Scott and Ororo right behind the two. There's no way they're gonna make it. She thought. But she pushed it away as soon as it came.

She couldn't let herself think Darwin was going to die. She couldn't- "This way!" Peter took a turn on the left, guiding her like he knew where they were going.

To her surprise he didn't stop running when they arrived at a cliff, ending in a river. "Peter?" She asked worriedly, as he still kept running. "Peter!" She repeated. "Do you trust me?" He asked her. Yes with all my life, she was about to answer, but thought better of doing that and went instead with: "Certainly not right now- PETER!" Not even able to finish the sentence that he was throwing her off the cliff, him following right after.

That's it, that's how I'm dying.

She could bet her life that the fall lasted hours- when it was actually barely a minute- when her body finally collided with the water. She swimmed on the surface of the water and noticed Peter a few feet away from her. He swimmed towards her, held her in his arms and covered her mouth as they swimmed towards the wall of the cliff, that thank god gave them a repair from the Careers eyes.

"You see them?" She heard Rogue ask. "No." Scott answered, clearly annoyed. "Let them go. Whether they're dead or not, they won't last long without their bag and weapons.

She mentally cursed. The bag. The knife. All of that was left at the spot, probably still marked in Lorna's blood.

Lorna.

Lorna and Darwin.

Darwin.

Where the hell was Darwin?

Unfortunately for her, the answer would fall from the sky. Literally.

Darwin fell pretty much like she and Peter did, except he wasn't coming back to the surface. Scott's laugh was barely audible now, so Peter was quick to look for Darwin.

Y/n instead went swimming back to the land, trying to steady her breathing. After the third time of the silver haired boy going underwater, he finally came back with Darwin- clear unconscious.

She helped him by bringing him back next to where she was previously laying, and opened up his jacket. She started performing CPR to him the best she could remember from training, but it didn't seem to work.

Peter was standing next to her, too shocked to say or do anything, as he watched his crush- there was really no point in denying it now, Peter definitely had a crush for y/n- desperately tried to save her friend, screaming and crying.

As she was about to lose her hope, Darwin coughed once. Then twice, then thrice, and he was awake again. "Oh my God Darwin." She cried and hugged him, but as she did that he immediately pushed her away, wincing.

"Y/n stop- please." She looked at him, confused, but then noticed the wound caused by Warren's sword.

"They got my leg with an arrow. Lorna managed to run away, I didn't. Warren attacked me, and they threw me in the river."

Because they knew he wouldn't be able to survive. No. He would.

"Hey it's ok. I wasn't pointing at winning anyway."

She shook her head, trying to stop the tears. She only met him one week ago and she was that desperate for his death- or maybe more than one week?

"Just promise me two things. Win for me. Murder all those bastards and win. Bring glory to the districts. And- he coughed and some blood came out of his mouth- hug my mom for me. Will 'ya? Tell her I love her."

She didn't want to let him go. But he was right. She silently nodded, hugged him one last time and turned to Peter. If this wasn't the one moment to show her weakness to the whole state, she didn't know which was.

Might as well give them a show right? Of course she cared about Darwin. Of course her tears were real. But she would lie if she said that she wasn't hoping for the Citizens to feel pity for her.

Peter was just holding her, all of his pain clearly staged. As harsh as it sounded, he didn't care for Darwin, not a bit. His only concern was for the girl crying in his arms at that moment. Lorna was right. He was crazy for her.

As they moved to the entrance of the forest and stared at Darwin's body being carried away from the flying vehicle, her mind was finally clear.

She was going to win, and not even the Careers were going to stop her. Next to her, even if she didn't speak a word, Peter knew what she was thinking.

And, too bad for him, he agreed with her.

tags: @raincoffeeandfandoms

[poormeowmeowcollector]

All Trussed Up And Still Nowhere To Go (bound)

pairing: Odin & Loki

Warnings: whump, shackles, blood, torture, mention of death, nightmares. None is detailed graphically.

Summary: When they were young, Loki was shackled during a feast as a twisted punishment. Little did they know then on how these shackles will follow them.

Notes: Just like Flufftober, this is based off the the Whumptober 2021 prompt list and I do not know how it will go. I will probably go from one to another, but we'll see.

Read On AO3 | Whumptober Masterlist

They can still hear the people, feasting, singing, eating. How could they not? Odin tied them right below the Great Hall for that reason.

They misbehaved, the Allfather said, before locking them away like some animal. They misbehaved, even though they were taught they should never let an insult go without a comeback, they should always protect their honour. But when they do what they were taught, trained, to do, they 'misbehave" and get punished.

It's that insult, this mad paradox, that makes Loki scream and cry out, struggling against the heavy iron shackles. They first ask to be released, demand someone to reason with, call upon any right their status as a prince allows them to. When this comes fruitless, they start screaming insults and names and curses upon anyone and everyone in that Norns-damned feast, swearing oaths of war and pain and destruction and death.

Oh, how they wish they could take back these oaths. At that moment, they don't, they just go on until their throat forbids them to speak, and their hands are covered with blood from the wounds they created by struggling against the shackles for that long. After their body has failed them, they collapse in a wary sleep, clueless on how the Norns listened to the oaths and did everything they could to make Loki keep their word.

Years, eons, pass. And Loki finds themselves in shackles again. But these make the night in the dungeons seem just a distant dream.

These shackles come along with pain, long and agonizing, until everything their body and mind knows is going from one excruciating moment to another.

This time, they know that words and fake bravado are useless, and their body cannot perform these tasks. So, they try to end it. To starve themselves or deny any liquid or pray that the next moment of agony will be the last. But every time Death tries to claim them, their body revives. It's not a good state, just good enough to give meaning to the pain.

They are, right now, in these same shackles. The bad shackles, the ones with the pain that leaves nothing behind. But, this time, they have something they didn't have before. They can speak. They don't know how they found the energy, or how he left their vocal cords intact when the throat was the first part he would destroy, but they won't let this ability go to waste.

So, they scream like they've never screamed before, begging anyone who might hear to help them. They scream until they feel their throat closing up again. And then, two hands grab them and start shaking.

The movement is fast, and the grip is tight, but the hands still feel familiar, safe. And with them comes a voice, calling Loki's name again and again.

Thor's voice.

Thor, who is right in front of them, trying to shake off the terror in the dead of the night. Who is still shirtless and with his hair tangled, but still has Mjölnir by the bed in case the demons weren't in Loki's head.

Loki takes a deep breath, then another, and looks at the open window by their bed. The sky is not exactly dark but a blueish grey, and starless with only one thin moon. They're still on Midgard.

"Thank you," their throat is so sore that they only manage a small whisper, but still smile faintly at their brother.

"I'm sorry I didn't come then…" Thor looks down, ashamed.

"You would only join me, not save me. And, one has to stay less fucked up to balance out the fuckery of the other," they smile, but Thor doesn't feel the same amusement.

"Neither of us will get any more sleep tonight. Do you want to train? Maybe it would help, Rogers says it's making the tension leave," he suggests instead.

Loki agrees and quickly changes to something more suitable. Besides, attacking a bag of sand and leather is better than staring at the ceiling until the sun is up.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves @gaitwae @leucoratia

[many-gay-magpies]

@loabivey @honeyseungz @angelhee @ofaffectionate @yixiangs @cherry-riki

so uh. heyyy <3

pt 2 (technically pt 1 because it happens before) of blood bonds is here!! tagging everyone that i tagged for blood bonds (except for kyu </3) bcs why not

i'm not 100% on this, but that's mostly because i've been staring at it for a week, and y'all haven't, so i hope that you'll enjoy it thoroughly more than i do

wc: 1.7k, tw for blood, blood-sucking, death and mentions of death, and vague descriptions of a car crash. same as the last one pretty much, let me know if there's anything i missed!

that being said, have some bloodlust.

It's a scent that stops him in the middle of the street, blaring alarms through every inch of his body—thick and sweet, intoxicating, like the richest chocolates and tenderest meats. For a second, it brings him back to his days in the castle; feasts coating tables upon tables in every decadence he could imagine. He hasn't felt that kind of indulgence in a long time.

Jungwon is immediately aware of his instincts overcoming him; he knows what the smell is, he's smelled it coming off the other boys enough times to be familiar with it. But not this strong. Never this strong.

His head swims. Stars cloud his vision, and yet everything is ten times brighter, more crisp; his senses sharpened, sensitivity heightened. Jungwon battles with himself for a moment, there, on the side of the road, watching the car with the contents of it's driver's seat smelling so delectably like food as it drives by; no, no, don't give in, don't succumb, you've made it so far already, just hold on a little bit longer—but the gut-wrenching hunger inside him is like none he's ever faced before.

It tears at him, the unbearable hunger, the emptiness; twists his insides into knots and makes him double over against the brick wall beside him. He doesn't want to give in, doesn't want to take, doesn't want to hurt—but he's so, so hungry, and it smells so, so good and he just can't take it anymore. It's a kind of longing that burns him from the inside out, and maybe... maybe it wouldn't hurt, to... to give in, just this once.

He's hungry. He needs food. Really, when he thinks about it for long enough, rationalizes it in his mind, that's all there is to it. Lions don't feel bad when they hunt gazelle, do they?

(Something is different here, though. Lions, unlike vampires, will stop. Lack of food will make their body grow cold, their energy sapped until there is nothing left; they grow tired, bodies moving slower and slower, until they breath their last breath. Vampires do not. Vampires will not stop. The hunger depletes them, eats at them, and then when it can eat no more it consumes them completely—writhing black hole taken ghastly, human shape. Death evades them, and so they become death in it's place—emptiness so great it would eat the whole world if it could.)

So, with his resolve melting as his hunger rages, Jungwon presses onward—taking advantage of the scenery's sudden clarity to slink towards the moving car at a truly frightening pace. Plus, it could be... fun, he finds himself thinking; fun, to play around a bit, see how much fear he can truly instill. In the past, Jay and Sunghoon's jokes to Sunoo to "not play with his food" when me mentioned spooking his victims the tiniest bit before feeding had left Jungwon feeling sick to his stomach—but now, the idea doesn't seem so bad.

A voice in Jungwon's head (the more logical Jungwon; the one that isn't starving, the one that's still on the edge of rational) tells him, you're being stupid, as he throws caution to the wind and teleports directly in front of the car. Someone could see you, do you even have any idea what you're doing? But the voice of hunger rises above all others, and Jungwon, smirking at the screech of tires on asphalt as the car skids to a stop in front of him, tells the voice, it's dark out, and we're in an abandoned part of the city; who, really, do you think could see us?

The voice protests, but the drone of Jungwon's hunger drowns it out. He feels cool metal on the palms of his hands, hears the metallic clang of his boots against the car's hood. The trembling of the man inside tinges his nerves with delight.

He raises his finger to his lips in a single gesture, shhh, and wonders if his eyes gleam red.

Thoughts run one by one through his mind, though they are fleeting, like mice; skittering into the darkness as soon as he catches sight of them. He should have listened to the hyungs, he should have been more careful, he shouldn't have waited this long—he knows the consequences of vampires going too long without blood from Sunghoon's stories, how could he have been so stupid?

But it all fades, irrelevant, in face of what sits before him now—food. A meal. Satiation, finally, an end to his hunger. He can feel his conscience slipping away more and more as the moments pass, the little Jungwon in his head letting go of it's logic.

It is with this quieting of the rational voice and sudden booming of the instinctual one that Jungwon teleports himself to the back seat of the man's car. It doesn't take long for him to be noticed—even the lack of his reflection in the rear view mirror cannot disguise the creak of expensive leather and the sigh he lets out.

"Jesus Christ--" the man nearly shouts, car jolting forward as he slams on the breaks. Jungwon doesn't flinch. He turns to look over his shoulder and meets an unblinking vermillion stare. "W-what the hell are you, kid?"

"Go on, guess," he says, brow raised. "I have all night."

Though even as he speaks, Jungwon knows the statement is a lie—he's the closest to the man, the closest to a human he's ever been since turning, no plexiglass or metal barrier between them—the smell of the man's racing heart and pumping blood chokes his senses like smoke, so thick he can barely breath. Jungwon doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold out—but he can feel how the seconds tick by, as if there's a pocket watch embedded in his skull. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Agonizing. Even so, Jungwon delights in the fear, the rabbit-quick pace of the man's heart. Equally as amused as he is overwhelmed, he decides that quickening it a little more won't hurt, and smirks, doing well to lick over his fangs in perfect line with the man's eyesight.

"Shit--" Eyes widen comically, and breath grows shaky with the reckless fumbling at car door handles in an effort to escape, pure, cold fear jolting through bones and bringing goosebumps to unsettled skin. It's useless, though; because all the doors lock, jammed shut, and the most he can do is huddle as close to the door as he can, as far away as possible from the boy with glowing eyes suddenly perched in his passenger seat.

"Surprised?" Jungwon asks with a grin.

The man gulps. "Th-this isn't happening," he mumbles, eyes focussed somewhere off in space, past Jungwon. "This can't be happening to me. This... this is impossible."

"Oh, it's very possible," hums Jungwon. "You'd be surprised to find out how much is." And he smirks wide again. He probably looks like a madman, but he doesn't care. He can taste the man's blood on the air.

"Please, don't kill me," he whispers. "W-whatever it is you want, I'll do it, just-- I don't wanna die. Please."

Any other day, the pleading would have gotten to him—any other day, Jungwon would have cried and screamed and torn at his own skin at the prospect of ever killing anyone, let alone drinking from them. But now, the logical him (the human him, he thinks for a moment) has been tucked into the deepest recesses of his mind, and the sound is like music to his ears.

"H-have mercy," the man stutters quietly.

Jungwon tilts his head. Mercy? a voice in his head whispers. It is a voice he hardly sees himself in, and yet it consumes him completely. There is no mercy. You are only prey.

It's funny how suddenly it hits him—how long he's waited for this, and how he can't stand to wait a second more. Faster than lightning Jungwon blinks on top of the man, pinning him down; the protests (physical as well as verbal) make no difference to him. He searches for a carotid artery with shaking fingers and, once he finds it, sinks his teeth in with a groan.

The car swerves in a panic, and the sound of it crashing into a streetlight is a distant ringing in Jungwon's mind. Everything is muffled, as if he's been thrust underwater, and he might as well have, with the way the smell and taste of blood blooms around him, inside him. He feels himself wanting more, needing more, craving more, the hunger never-ending as he sinks his teeth even further into his victim's neck.

Nothing else matters in that moment, and he knows, now, he knows what the others were talking about—how good it feels to feed when you've starved for so long.

His victim loses consciousness soon after that, but still Jungwon drinks. He can't find it in him to stop—it tastes so, so good and he's still so, so hungry, and it seems his hunger only grows the more he feeds; every bit of blood he drains, the sickness and lethargy drains away with it, leaving a hunger larger than he had known behind. Eyes closed, the world spins around him, and Jungwon can feel himself slowly revitalizing as he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, and drinks.

Jungwon loses track of time the longer he sits there.

The hunger is less ravaging, now, only a low growl in the back of his throat; and soon it peters out entirely. The body under him has grown cold—it's warmth taking new ownership. He feels the stolen blood and pulse humming under his skin.

There is plenty to worry about, he knows—plenty things he should, realistically, care more about than he does. But for the life of him he can't pick out what they are, buried beneath layers of cotton he doesn't care to reach through.

His mind is heavy with fullness, and heavy with sleep, and for the second time that day a little voice in the corner of it urges him to just give in—so he does.

[mtab2260]

Okay, I desperately need to rant about Apocalyptic Natasha Romanoff in this episode of What-If and I've decided to do it here over Reddit. Screw me.

First off...

Holy Fucking Shit! That was bloody AMAZING!

Second, I'm basically going to be explaining my excitement and jumping on the ceiling about each scene she was in, but also pointing out a few things as well.

(This feels like a Guardians of the Galaxy reference. No?)

I absolutely love this line because it says so much. In the main timeline, Steve had no clue about her Russian Vodka Family (as I've seen someone call it). In that timeline, I don't think she told anyone, not even Clint. But in Peggy's timeline, that Natasha clearly had to have opened up to Peggy which just shows how close those two had become during the year following the Battle of New York. Natasha Romanoff isn't an open person with anyone, in any timeline— even with Clint, the person she literally sacrificed herself for so he could live.

That says a million words I can't explain.

I also love the fact that the filter on Apocolypse Ultron World is dreary and it dulled out all the colour, and the sun's missing too. But in this shot, you can see hints of the sun shining through. It represents the hope Natasha saw when she saw them. The colour on Peggy's face and hair pop out. It automatically feels less dark and hopeless.

Also, I don't care what anyone might say this line is what sold Natasha that Peggy was an ally and that something was going on that she didn't yet understand. At the mention of Alexei, she just knew.

However... I must point out there are a few inaccuracies with this line. Actually, this entire line doesn't work.

Not really.

As because, up until ghosty Red-Skull said it on Vormir, Natasha had no clue what her birth father's name was and Peggy getting the serum instead of Steve wouldn't change that. So if she didn't know, there's no way she could tell Peggy.

And for the second part of that line... up until the events of Black Widow (the movie), Natasha was still lying to herself that their family in Ohio wasn't real— that it was just a mission and they were all just roles, nothing more.

But, I will say, maybe in that universe she and Peggy had a talk about it and Peggy make it clear she was a bloody numpty for thinking that and it was real regardless of the reason they were brought together. That could've happened in that universe. It's been made clear that those two traded stories with each other as her Nat knew about Steve, yet, main-timeline Nat didn't know about Peggy until she saw him staring at her photo. So who really knows.

But regardless, I still let out a jump of joy at this line because the What If series is letting the Russian Vodka Family be real!

Not that it wasn't real, but you get what I mean— anyways, onward!

This scene... oh my gawd... bloody-hell it's fucking terrific!

I cannot say how fucking overjoyed I am that when it came down to it, fucking Natasha Romanoff and bloody Clint Barton saved the entire bloody-fucking multiverse!

The (and I quote some random asshole) "Useless Avengers", saved everything ever known while also being the only survivors in an entire universe.

Let that sink in.

IT'S FUCKING AWESOME!

Like...

Holy Shit That's Awesome!

(I need more adjectives)

That's Bloody Insane.

I don't care how tacky they may be, I fricken loved these slow-mo arrow shots. And with the mirroring of Clint's (albeit fucking stupid) sacrifice coming full circle and to a close is outstanding.

Which brings me to my next point, that's kinda also this point too.

This point is part II we'll call it.

I

Am

So

Fucking

Happy

They

Didn't

Forget

About

What

Clint

Meant

To

Nat

And

Also

Just

Plainly

Forget

About

Clint

'Cause that would've sucked. I would've sued Marvel if that happened.

This scene. These two shots.

For someone who hides behind fake smiles and witty remarks, these shots show exactly what she's thinking at that moment and it's amazing. You can literally see the absolute peace on Nat's face that they did it, they ended Ultron, she avenged Clint's death, she avenged everyone's death, it was over. And hey look, Yelena, they didn't even need one of the big ones to do it!

But also look, see what I said about the filter— Natasha's hair actually looks fiery red instead of vibrant brown. Also, SUN!

Moving on...

I don't really have much to say about this line, but I fucking loved it, and serves the dude right.

She Has A Very Valid Point.

The pure amazement and life in Natasha's eyes and face is everything.

She saw everything she ever knew nuked and murdered because a robot spent five seconds on the internet and yet here she was now in a clusterfuck war full of life. Life that was at war with each other. But an alive war nonetheless and that's all she cares about at that moment.

Natasha and Clint being best buds part threeeeeeee........

On come on we all know what was going through Natasha's mind at this moment.

PAYBACK BIATCH!

Seriously I just love this short little bit. And the fact that Loki took over the world in a week, yet, this Natasha took him out with a kick and a small poke says things.

It's awesome.

As heartwarming as this scene was, I was hoping for more and truthfully it's a load of bullshit.

I don't care whatever the fuck Nick Fury has seen in his days, he did not know about the multiverse and if he wasn't happy as hell to see her on that Helicarrier then he was suspicious as hell as to who was this Natasha Romanoff imposter was. I'm sorry, I refuse to believe otherwise. No one's first thought after they've seen an alive version of someone they buried in the ground is—

"Oh, you must be Natasha just not my Natasha. Yeah, that makes sense."

Yeah, no.

Also... might I again remind you EVERYONE ON HER PLANET WAS FUCKING NUKED TO DEATH?! Did everyone seem to forget about this?

The first time we've seen Natasha Romanoff cry (almost cry) was Fury's death in The Winter Soldier. That's proof enough for how much Fury meant to her.

So the first person in like over a year (probably) she sees that she recognizes (besides Thor) who she also knew for a fact was dead— her reaction should've been more than a smirk. Especially if it was someone she cried over when they died. The line the two Natasha's share after Peggy's "I've got the shield. You've got the sword." line proves that different universes don't change a person's personality. So her seeing Fury again should've been a helluva lot more emotional for her, hell, for the both of them.

It probably should've gone something more like...

"Natasha...?" A very familiar voice behind her breathed. It wasn't one she's heard for over a year but she recognized it immediately. She froze— which was not a thing she did, ever, but it was only truly hitting her now that not everyone she knew was dead anymore. That the Steve Rogers over there was, in fact, alive. That the Nick Fury behind her was alive. That hundreds, millions, billions of other people were alive.

Natasha turned around slowly like her limbs were stuck in the gallons of maple syrup Cooper put on his pancakes.

"Fury—" She choked, honestly too overwhelmed to say anything else coherent. The tears in her eyes stung as she didn't let them fall.

Nick's one eye narrowed, he was pissed. "Who the hell are you?" He questioned, voice threatening. "I know you ain't Natasha Romanoff 'cause she's dead. So who are you?"

She was sure she just stared at his face probably for a full minute but she didn't really care. It was really nice to see and hear another face and voice.

Nat took a much-needed breath. "I know your Natasha is gone, the giant baby-man cape dude said so. I'm not her. I'm from somewhere else. But I am Natasha Romanoff... and it is really good to see you, Nick..."

Ah, shit the tears fell.

But maybe it was worth it as his eye widened and some form of recognition or some sliver of understanding set in. It was honestly hard to tell through her blurry eyes.

"You're aware none of that makes any sense, right?" He asked, voice much gentler now. Fury looked over her outfit and very dirty/beat-up appearance. "And I take it wherever you're from didn't have showers either? Because I can smell you from here." His nose wrinkled as he smirked.

She knew he was trying not to gag.

Natasha choked out a wet laugh. "Not for like a year, they kinda got all nuked from a psychopathic robot."

She was pretty sure that was the first time she'd ever seen Nick Fury actually shocked.

Okay, yeah so basically something like that.

And the reason I kept saying over a year is because Clint lost an arm and was honestly ready to die. He did die. After a year of being almost the only person on an entire planet and losing Laura and the kids, he hit his breaking point. In the five years of the blip he definitely became close to his breaking point, probably was about to hit it before Nat showed up, and that was with half the universe gone and he was alone without Nat. It could honestly be longer than a year, it probably was much longer, but then I started thinking about food and how much food would actually be safe to eat— or actually there. It was a matter of time really until both starved to death honestly.

And the shower thing, it's honestly impressive anyone could stand near here and not pass out. Like seriously if everyone is dead, I doubt any showers still worked— let alone be standing.

Anyways, I do have a couple problems with this episode despite how much I loved it.

Going back to the "EVERYONE ON HER PLANET WAS FUCKING NUKED TO DEATH?! Did everyone seem to forget about this?" part I mentioned earlier.

It seems no one outside of Nat actually seemed to acknowledge that everyone was dead. That Natasha, previous to their arrival, was the only living thing in that universe and that was it. You would think even Peggy would show some care or sympathy or some consoling words to her so-called BFF. If not that at least recognize the truly apocalyptic scene around her and look at it with disbelieving eyes. For someone who has so much compassion, she seems to have none in this case. Or at least she didn't outwardly show it. Which is completely fine. But it just bothered me no one seemed to really think about it all.

Another thing:

This isn't really towards the episode per-say but I'm just really fucking pissed about it.

It's great— no sorry— it's absolutely amazing that Apocalyptic Natasha is now in a universe that was thriving with life. It's awesome and she deserves it.

HOWEVER....

Are you fucking serious that out of all the universes that Natasha died in, you put her in a one that ALSO has a STILL DEAD Clint Barton???

SERIOUSLY?!??!?

I've said this what, three, four times now— Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are more cursed than FitzSimmons. Because at least FitzSimmons always find their way back to each other in the end, Nat and Clint always just find the other fucking dead.

I swear, how the other doesn't have PTSD from heights now is a bloody miracle.

Anywho:

That's my entire rant on this week's episode. If you actually read this all, one, I'm so sorry for wasting your time, two, wow— congrats.

Also, I really need to see someone make a fic about Apocalyptic Nat seeing Laura and the kids for the first time again, and also for Coulson too.

[sparklingdust4612]

Reviewing "The lottery" by @isarnicole

An amazing everlark fanfic with just the perfect tinge of AU, wrapped in a ribbon of smut. The developing relationship between Katniss and Peeta was so heart-warming and Prim, amazing as always! Sad to hear of Mrs Everdeen but at least she died in a better way then by being depressed and useless.

Loved Haymitch and Cinna in this and lets not forget Finnick!! Such supportive and understanding characters.

I loved everyone's close bonds and bantering and definitely loved the 'lottery' aspect of the story.

Favourite quotes/parts from the story:

1- "Speaking of, should you be out in the woods killing cute, little furry things?"

2- "So, are you pregnant yet?" Rory asks. Prim gapes at him, backhanding his arm.

"I just signed the paperwork yesterday. I'm pretty sure it doesn't happen that quick," I say with a laugh. "If you think it does, then your mama needs to have a talk with you."

3- I have to repress a moan on the first bite. Prim has no problem letting her pleasure be known. She's making so much noise that Peeta and I share a laugh, and her face turns red.

4- "They may have good intentions now, but the road to hell is paved with those…or at least that’s what people say.”

5- "If you go, there's no life at all for me here. You're my whole life. You always have been. I would never be happy again."

6- "Everything alright, Sweetheart? You've been looking at that boy like you're dying of thirst, and he is the only drink of water for miles."

I scowl at him, which only makes me laugh harder.

“Come to think of it, the boy looked like he was starving. I wonder how he worked up such an appetite?”

7- "To me, you have the comfort of the night as it blankets the world inside you.” He points to the dark blue bodice. “But, there’s a fire there too, scorching just below the surface. Bright and brilliant and burning, but beautiful all the same.”

8- “Haymitch! I hardly recognized you without your piss-stained clothes and a bottle in your hand.”

9- "That shit stain that calls herself his mother...”

10- “I was worried you were going to walk out of that bathroom naked and scare me to death. I’ve already been through accidentally seeing you naked once. Don’t know if I’ll make it through that again."

11- "I'm telling you this because even knowing what I know now, knowing that she would be taken from me, I wouldn't trade a day I spent with her. Losing is hard. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. But loving and being loved, there's nothing better than that. It's worth all the pain."

“It’s not fair what his mother said about you or what anyone who doesn’t really know you says about you. But if you love him, then let yourself love him. Life is far too short. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Don’t allow doubt about what could happen shadow what you can experience with him if you allow it.”

12- “Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” he drawls.

“I see someone’s finally conscious enough to actually join us on one of these tours,” I retort.

“What can I say?” he smirks. “I’ve got a thing for cows.”

13- "It said that love isn't always about the things that make a day or a life perfect. You'll have those things, but real love, lasting love, is about finding someone whose broken pieces fit with yours.

14- "The trees have missed you, my love," he continues. "Though I doubt the animals have."

15- "When I first saw you as a child, I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I loved you then," he whispers. I gasp and smile against his cheek as he recites the vows we spoke to each other when we toasted our bread. "As we grew older, my love for you changed from a childhood crush to something more. I was sure I loved you then. But I was a fool. I had no idea what love was until you walked through the Justice Building door and into my life. My love for you continues to grow and change. You challenge me and make me laugh. You love with your whole heart. You're selfless without knowing it. You've never looked at me with pity. You've changed my life. I'm so in love with you. I can't imagine loving you anymore than I do. But I know I'll wake up in the morning and love you just a little bit more than I do today. And I'll continue to wake up loving you. Always."

16- "You are everything I never knew I wanted. You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces. You gave me life, and you continue to show me what it means to live. I want to spend the rest of my days with you. I want to go to sleep and wake up in your arms. I want to fill your life with joy and watch you smile. I want to sit with you and watch the sunset. I want to wake up early and watch the sunrise. I can't promise that things will be easy, but I promise that we'll get through all the hard times together. I love you, Peeta. Always."

Really looking forward to reading more from you :D

[janiedean]

not to be that person but idk why everyone keeps behaving like sansa surviving KL and LF means she's smarter than every other stark like only court intrigues and politics require you to be smart?? and surviving amongst the smallfolk and assassins and night's watch and beyond the wall is all about brawn and physical strength??? that's so... classist lmfao, like surviving without revealing you're a highborn in a warzone, not starving to death, not being killed by soldiers/assassins/whatnot requires as much brains as surviving court politics. jon had to deal with politics at the NW and with Stannis. admittedly bran's story was doesn't at all in the show but he's about the only one who manages to explore his warging abilities fully it's not a piece of cake?? and arya had to escape KL, survive flea bottom, then harrenhal (under ROOSE BOLTON FFS) and the bwb and the red wedding AND get to braavos and survive the faceless men whoch is supposedly the leading assassin organization in asoiaf.

i'm not even getting into everything dany's done and survived lol. but okay samsa is the only genius in westeros, we know she is because tyrion says so i guess? not to mention show sansa's political "mentors" are possible the WORST examples of rulers we have - cersei and littlefinger. they didn't give 2 shits about ruling or the smallfolk or leadership, just about their own power. and i'd say that's important given how much time grrm spends showing us how the smallfolk suffer because of the games played by kings and queens.

this... actually requires a bit of going into it but like not counting that show sansa was a travesty and I'm choosing to not acknowledge it, and show lf was... I mean I'm not even going into how much it was a disservice to the og char whom I detest but honestly book!lf wouldn't marry sansa to anyone he didn't do research about lmfao but like not going into... those... plot holes.....

the entire point is that in the book sansa ends up under those two's tutelage anyway and... she's posed to do the contrary? what does she think looking at c.? that when she's queen she wants to be loved not feared, and like... being with lf is testing her morals but it's obvious that since she survived staying kind until now (I mean... again it's her leitmotiv she helped lancel & about everyone she could who was a jerk to her to the point it sent at least lancel into a faith crisis, she felt bad for joffrey like FOR FUCKING JOFFREY COME ON that's her selling point HER FUCKING SELLING POINT) then she'll just... gain enough political knowledge to outsmart people when she wants to but she won't use it to be a jerk she'll use it.. to.. help her family... when they're reunited which is p obvious to me but nvm

the thing is that people have decided to attach it to the underdog female character goes up the power ladder trope which.... like that's not it

also there's the part where like people are so caught up in the whole WHO HAS IT WORSE BETWEEN SANSA AND ARYA WHO IS THE BEST feud that... they don't notice that they have specular ways of dealing with trauma like arya is dealing with having to lose her identity/risking not knowing who she is anymore and she has to deal with increasing violence/ptsd-related trauma bc she's throw in the middle of everything bad she could end up in like she was almost in the red wedding I was 90% sure she also died until I saw she had a chapter after, while sansa has managed to dodge courtly poisons by being herself and by not letting it change who she is which tyrion noticed which everyone noticed which is why guess what tyrion is willing to stand up to his father and tell him no when it comes to actually having sex with her when he couldn't for the marriage and she's the only person that managed to get past sandor's trauma issues enough that he tried to actually help her for what he could, like... arya has de-personalization to overcome, sansa is holding to her guns by staying herself and she has to learn what good she can from lf before ditching him and keeping on staying herself like it's fucking specular it's not supposed to be a game of who has it worse

(wish ppl would get it also with jaime and tyrion and their coping with trauma but nvm)

the fact that ppl downplay that jon isn't politically an idiot at all irks me forever but like... bruh the dude handled being lord commander, an entire siege when he was like seventeen and was hobbling around on crutches, managed to infiltrate the wildlings without anyone finding out (and it traumatized the shit out of him but nvm) and if only he was good at PR he wouldn't have gotten juliuscaesared, like... okay X°DDD

I mean... yes it's classist but that's a dead horse to beat, if people actually took that angle into account they wouldn't write off brienne or davos chapters as BORING if only bc they're the only ones where you see how not-nobles are doing as in badly X°D

anyway like all stark kids have enough smarts to survive their storylines and robb had to be taken out with a betrayal so he wasn't being that stupid either differently from what my villain origin story thinks but again as someone said once if you hate a stark kid to prop up your fave your fave most likely would hate you so that's my stance X°D

but like... the point is that sansa was shown to gaf about others/the smallfolk/people lower than her in the food chain which dnd/half of this fandom didn't get which is why she'll be an excellent regent for bran and I'm dying on that hill but again this entire thing where you have to pit your fave against everyone else to show how much more badass/smarter they are is imvho a useless exercise because then I'll cut the gordian knot and say that if gilly managed to survive at least seventeen years with her father in that context knowing that her mother was also her sister and that she'd get the same treatment and if she had male children they'd get put out in the open and killed and then was forced to swap her own baby for another without knowing if that baby was going to die or not and she still had it in herself to not turn into a complete asshole she wins for toughest survivor in westeros at least out of the girls unless we want jeynep to give her a run for her money because like... going from lf to ramsay and not as a protegé and considering she was afraid ramsay was going to sic dogs on her when they saved her I think we can maybe ger some perspective here X°DDDD

(I'm not even going into the guys because honestly there's an amount of trauma that's not quantifiable in there X°DD)

like...... again everyone has it bad in these books and propping up your fave making the others look bad makes no sense bc if you love your fave then you have reasons to and you don't need to compare them to others to make them look as good as you think they are and that's my hill to die on X°D

[ahsxual]

My Personal Teddy Bear

Pairing: Phoenix!Joker x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: "Heyyy !! Love your writing ! :D If it's okay for you, can you please write a headcanon with Joker 2019 and a very romantic reader who loves fluffy things ? Thank you !! <3"

Word Count: 1,9k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this my dear @arthurjokersgirl!! I'm really happy to know that you like my writing 🥺🥺 It means so much to me!! And I'm so sorry for taking so long, but I had a few problems in writing this fic (tumblr didn't save it, so I had to write it all over again). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fic I made for you <33

(I don't own this image!!! If you own it, please message me and I'll give you the deserved credits)

When you and Arthur met, both of you were surprised by the amount of things that you had in common.

You two are so kind, so good-hearted, so romantic and dedicated to your partner and everything you do... and if there's something that manages to put a cute and melting smile on your faces, is when you receive, especially when it’s from one another, fluffy objects, such as teddy bears, flowers, romantic CD's, love letters... anything that involves and expresses the love you have for each other.

Whenever you idealized a relationship or whenever someone asked you to describe the "perfect man", the answer was always the same: a romantic, caring, generous and cute guy who would do anything for his girlfriend, promising to love her for all eternity.

Once other people heard your answer, they would say you were just being childish, that those types of guys weren't real and that you had to live in the real world, not some kind of princess movie, waiting for your prince to rescue and fulfill your heart with all the love he could muster... what they didn't know, was that your prince was destined to meet you the moment you were welcomed into this world.

You couldn't imagine being with anybody else: ever since you shared your first words with Arthur, you knew deep inside that he was the one for you, the love of your life, your charming prince... and as if he hasn’t told you yet, he felt exactly the same, you were his one and only that he had been waiting for so long all his lonely life.

Your chemistry was unique: you were so in love, so committed to your relationship, that you were sure that you would spend the rest of your lifes with each other. Death wasn’t able to break your chain, it was stronger that anything else in the universe. Once you had finally perished, you would marry each other as many times as you needed, twice, thrice, billions of times if it were needed. 

Arthur sees you as a sweet, gorgeous flower, being utterly different from the others by its unique beauty. He doesn’t have eyes for any other flower: you're the only one he has eyes for and feels pure love for: he even compared himself to the Little Prince, and you were the only flower in his world, yet perfect and outstanding.

He loved the fact that you were as romantic as him, because that made him feel more secure and sure of yourself. Even the little things would put your eyes in tears and make your smile grow until your red cheeks started to hurt because of his sweet gestures.

Your favorite hobbie is, after getting from a tired and exhausted day of work, laying in each other's arms on the spacious sofa while watching romantic movies or comedies to brighten your mood, covered in blankets while sharing a cup of hot tea because of the frosty cold winter.

You loved everything about Arthur and your relationship with him: it was all about trust, support, love, dedication, comprehension and understanding. He was your best friend, and you were his.

Every month he would save some extra money to buy you a present, sometimes even starving himself for days just to have enough money to buy you the most expensive gift he could afford. But of course that once you knew about this you immediately stopped him, not admitting him to do such silliness no matter how good his intentions were.

But what he didn't know, was that you were willing to play the same game: without him realizing it, you saved some cash every month as well (without starving yourself, of course), to buy tickets for a romantic movie that would debut in the cinemas.

You were so happy about it, to finally give Arthur what he deserves and to take him where he has always wanted to go since he was a little kid. But this time, he would see a romantic movie with you, giving you both an opportunity to have a decent date for you to enjoy.

You couldn't wait to see your lover's face once he knows he'd go to cinema for the very first time with the love of his life, with his one and only... with you.

On the other hand, Arthur was thinking exactly the same thing, since he had been saving some cash to give you a surprise, imagining your reaction after he had offered his gift that would mark and change your lives forever, while increasing your pure love even more, if that was even possible.

One day you went to grab your hidden piggy bank with more money to save, only to count it right after. Once you had counted it and saw that you had enough, you instantly jumped and giggled from the sheer happiness around your shared room. You made so much noise, that even Arthur who was in the living room, knocked gently on the door to make sure you were fine.

Today was the day where you finally could show your gift to him: you told him that he needed to hurry up and dress something nice, because you were going to an amazing place. He wanted to know what your plans were so bad, but he knew it was useless since you wouldn't tell him until you had arrived to the "misterious place".

Once you had arrived and had gotten out safely from the bus, you told your boyfriend to close his gorgeous ocean eyes.

"You can open them now, love." you gently said with the two tickets held in your hand, while being right in front of the cinema so he could understand your intentions.

He was immediatly dumb-founded as soon as he understood what you meant. "Y-you... you want me to go to the cinema with... with you?" his eyes started to become moist with each second that passed, and you only had time to embrace him in your eyes while assuring him that this was real, that this was really happening.

"It's ok love, it's good to let our emotions out when we need to. I'm right here if you need anything. We will have so much fun! And you know that we deserve this, it will be good for us and our relationship, right?" you look into his eyes and could see that a few tears managed to slide down from his red and cold cheeks. He was definitely crying, but from happiness, something that he never thought was possible: he could only relate tears to sadness, however you managed to prove him that the opposite was possible as well. That's what he loved about you: even having been through a lot and felt so many things from his entire life, he would always learn something new about you, him and others from you.

"I can't even thank you enough for all you have done for me, honey... If I could only retribute half that you have done for me... I would be the happiest man for seeing his future wife happy as well." you were smiling from ear to ear, but once he said the words that you always dreamed to hear from him, "future wife", you had to hold your tears back from falling down your now stunned face.

You were too distracted, or should I say too concentrated on your lover, that you didn't realize that the movie was about to start.

Once you entered the cinema room, both of you were amazed by the view: the red seats were all over the place and were very organized; the movie screen was giant, the perfect size to enjoy your movie; the background was simple, yet exquisite, giving you a sudden feeling of luxury, however you didn't care that much if you were honest. As long as you were by Arthur's side, that's all that matters, because your love is the most luxurious thing in this world.

That night was the one you've always dreamed of: you stayed close to each other while grabbing your hands firmly, yet gently, like you were terrified of someone taking the other away from yourselves; the movie contained a lot of romance, which illuminated your hearts more than the brightest stars. You could even relate yourselves to the lovely couple on the screen, which made you both smile the entire time, changing glances with each other with the most passionate stare. This made Arthur think about what he had planned for you for a long time, more specifically from the moment you shared your first kiss, because since then, he instantly knew you were the one.

It made him feel a little bit, not to say extremely, nervous as well, and when the movie ended, you thought it was necessary to ask if he was ok or if he just didn't like the movie.

"N-no! Of course I liked the movie, I actually loved it. I couldn't imagine any other date more perfect than the one you planned for us... thank you once again, it means so, so much to me, sweetheart..." he admitted, making you feel more relaxed. However, he seemed like he was hiding something else, like he had something on his mind that he couldn't let out. But then he smiled at you while grabbing your hand softly, and from that moment you knew that he was about to tell you what was stuck on his mind since he left home.

You walked out of the cinema and went outside, where you instantly felt your body shivering from the cold of the late night of Gotham... but your boyfriend made sure to warm and melt your heart in an instant.

You saw Arthur overthinking and trembling a little, and when you were about to ask him if he was cold too and wanted you to warm him up, he kneeled on the rigid ground and took a small box of your favorite color from his back pocket.

You had an idea of what was coming, yet you couldn't believe that that was what was really going to happen.

"My sweet precious, kind, and beautiful love, would you... would you l-like to ah.. m-marry me...?" his eyes seemed like they belonged to a baby puppy that was asking for affection or his favorite treat, but in this case he was asking you for being his wife... Is this a dream??

You immediately felt your eyes burning and becoming wet by the few rebellious tears that managed to escape from your lovely stare. Your hands were now in front of your gaping mouth, and you couldn't feel cold anymore. The only thing you felt in that moment, was an enormous wave of warm love that you couldn't help, but you let yourself drown.

It was at this moment that all your insecurities and fears that were related to your mutual love, were permanently defeated. Now you knew there was nothing nor anyone that would tear you apart... and you had so many goals yet to achieve as a couple.