#only wrote two parts to it anyway

[starlesswritings]

❪ ♛ › * ✰ ❫ ⁖ ⁀ ➴ just to live! ░. ꒱

GRAPHIC CONTENT AHEAD: extreme violence, gore, moral ambiguity, blood, major character death, lots of death in general, complete mindfuckery, tons of dead dove content everywhere you turn (well, that had been the idea, I can't remember if I ever wrote that far), anarchy reigns, tough decisions, wrong decisions, mental illness, trauma, graphic depictions of everything uncomfortable minus sex.

The audio logs of Vil Schoenheit as he finds himself in an unorthodox scenario.

Log: 000001

Ha... ha... ha... It's been a long while since I've had to run so fast. In case the person listening has no idea who I am, which is unlikely, my name is Vil Schoenheit. I am twenty years old. A model, actor, skin care and makeup artist — but I guess that's not exactly important right now. What's important is the fact that the world has changed. My life will never be the same. No one's will. Monsters. They're monsters. Everyone's a monster. I'm a monster, too. Ugly. Unsightly! Ha... I'm sorry. I'll be okay. If anything, at least I am positive, that I will survive. I am strong. I have knowledge on how to survive. It's almost like I was prepared for this from childhood. No, so long as I remain vigilant, I will survive. But, will I live? I don't know. I can't tell if I've really ever lived up to now, so how would I know if I'm living or not? How do I know that I can make it out of here alive?

Vil put the recorder back into his pocket and checked his surroundings. The coast was clear. He could make a break for the trees, get some much needed cover, and hopefully find some food.

He controlled his breaths and checked his pulse. So far, so good. He was okay. He was going to be okay. If he pretended this was just another movie script, he would be okay.

Everything was alright.

After all, he was the villain.

Always the villain.

But, he would prove himself! He knew that he could. Vil Schoenheit was nothing if not a survivor. He would get past the ugliness of the world and stand on top, sparkling and beautiful, like the rarest jewel. The most beautiful person on planet Earth.

He wished Rook were here with him. He already missed the dear hunter's presence, and having a hunter by his side would have been so very useful, as well. In any survival situation, Rook Hunt was a good man to pick. When the going got rough, Rook got serious and was an amazingly gifted man — but ever since all of this had broken out, Vil has not been able to get in contact with Rook at all, though he assumed it would be like that everywhere for everyone.

The Fae Valleys would have the most advantages in this sick twisted world. Not only had they never relied upon technology, they thrived with their own two hands. They had been born stronger. More durable. Beautiful and fair in their darkened nature.

At the same time, Vil knew that if he tried to go venture into the Fae Valleys without an invite, he would get destroyed from all sides, so it was not an option whatsoever. Also, due to their lack of technology, it was impossible to tell whether they had been affected by the calamities or not. They were so secluded from the outside world that it was impossible to tell.

He was at the trees when he heard it. The sound he desperately did not want to hear.

Vil sighed as he shut his brain off, cut his emotions from his actions, turned around and shot a gun directly into a woman's skull.

No.

That was not a woman.

That thing could not be a woman. It was a monster. For his own survival, to keep pressing forward, he had to do this.

The blood pooled to the ground and would feed the earth.

Vil rifled through her bag. her purse, and found things he deemed would be useful to him. The monster had terrible taste in color coordination, but it was of no matter now. It has no consequence in the end, because Vil had shot her point blank. He had killed her — it.

Better that he think of it as a thing and not a person.

I am ugly.

I will be beautiful.

In a world such as this, even just to survive would be beautiful. Vil could do it. He had to do it. For everyone he was close to and could not find — he would survive. It was all he could do now. There was no other option. To lay down himself, to give up and die, it was something that was unacceptable in his own eyes.

The world had changed like this, but even so, he would keep pressing forward.

So, even though he was in shock from what he'd seen back in the cities, he got his bearings and began to run again, getting as far away from regular civilization as possible, because nothing about the cities were safe anymore. There was only fire, and smoke, and the sound of people screaming, of blood and corpses filling the streets.

There was nothing else for him back there. The only thing in the cities was soon to be gone and Vil knew there'd be nothing left for anyone. If they all survived a few decades, perhaps things would change, and he could go back to scavenge for supplies, but it was far too dangerous to go there, now.

The Internet and cell service was still active, but there was no guarantee that would last forever, but just in case, Vil kept his phone and a charger on his person, because he wanted to hope, he wanted to believe that there would be a silver lining somewhere in this bleak life he was now preparing to live. He wanted to trust that someone he knew would come and find him (and come in peace), and that he wouldn't be so... so very...

"Alone," Vil Schoenheit whispered as the sky bled a thousand different colors, a beautiful sunset tainted by the earth bringing forth chaos, black acrid smoke, and its own central red flames. Flames that weren't hotter than the sun, but just as damaging — far more devastating.

Vil trembled, but he straightened himself out within seconds.

Only the strong survived. He had to keep his wits and remain as calm as possible.

He pretended that his hands didn't shake after killing that woma — that thing. He'd never actually killed something before. He wasn't a hunter like Rook. He hadn't taken life with his own two hands, watched the light in their eyes fade away and seep out. Vil had never actually harmed another being before, but now he had, and it was just day one.

The time to play nice guy was over.

It was the villain's world now.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: nightmares / trauma / ]

Post-invasion, Mikey sneaks into Leo’s room and when asked by Leo what the problem was, Mikey just smiles and says since he’s awake and knew Leo would be too, he didn’t want either of them alone. Leo laughs and lets Mikey stick around, both of them clumped together on Leo’s bed, watching grainy compilations of old Lou Jitsu commercials on Leo’s phone.

Technically, Mikey didn’t lie. He just didn’t explain everything that led him to Leo’s room. He didn’t explain the nightmare of his arms burning up too bright, too fast, destroyed before Raph and Donnie have a chance to help. He didn’t explain how he woke up with a wail caught in his throat, phantom pain in his arms and chest alike chasing away any semblance of exhaustion. He didn’t explain how his mind made sure he knew, vividly, that if one thing went wrong with his portal, then he would have never seen Leo again.

He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. Leo knows his brothers better than he knows himself, and Mikey has always been easy to read. So it’s no trouble to let Mikey know that he’s still with them, that Leo is here and alive with everyone else. And when Mikey finally regains his exhaustion and falls asleep leaning against Leo, Leo simply maneuvers him into a more comfortable position and stays by his side.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t go to sleep - not that he could, anyway. He just mindlessly scrolls on his phone, the soft snores of his little brother filling the room. He stays in place, awake, because he wants to be sure that when Mikey wakes up again it’s to the immediate sight that Leo is alive and well and home.

And, if Leo’s bring honest, that’s a reminder not just for Mikey’s sake.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy���, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[hellofanidea]

3rd one!

"Please, you've seen the skies from my angle plenty-- what I'd love to know is: how's the view from a parachute?"

The paratrooper's smile twitched, nearly dropped, then reasserted itself on his face. An odd, wistful, sincerity colored the edges of it, like Bucky had broken through the posturing facade and was glimpsing some true and tender part of the man's soul.

"Beautiful. Endless." He laughed, a bubbling sound of embarrassment as he heard the longing in his own voice, but continued anyway. "It's the most peaceful place I think in the whole damn world."

Months later, when Bucky was tumbling out of his fort, when the ground was rising to meet him, when he was wondering if this was the last thing Gale and Curt and all those other boys had seen, he had just enough wherewithal to remember that bright eyed corporal and think 'liar'.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

"I don't wanna write smut- but the parasites in me (tbz) want me to write smut."

[judewillem]

i found a notes app draft written up of all my thoughts abt being on-stage for a little life and thought it was worth sharing here:

- food on the stage smelled SO good

- dettol, on the other hand. did not. and there was so much of it before the start of act two.

- i kept getting distracted by the lone black olive on the stage that wasn’t cleaned up after jb’s outburst

- i couldn’t help but think “his ass is NOT reading” every time willem sat down to read a manuscript

- that being said, willem’s arm obstructed my view of what jude did to himself at the end of act one and if you’ve seen the show, you’ll know this was a merciful view obstruction

- had to stop myself from laughing during the scene where willem kept hitting the sofa cushion bc every time he hit it, our seats in the front row kept vibrating

- THAT scene between jude and caleb was even worse on-stage because all the action happened very close to the back of the stage and i was just sitting there like ☹️

- probably one of the worst things about being onstage was being aware that the whole audience can see ur face which made certain scenes (caleb, dr traylor, everything after willem’s death) really difficult because i could not control my facial expressions. sat there looking either like a deer in headlights (literally at one stage) or like i’m abt to burst into tears

- also speaking of the ending, it was even more difficult bc the lighting onstage was VERY revealing and i was so aware the audience could see me

- you can really see the little subtleties of their performances- jude and harold were particular standouts but they were all amazing

- one little moment i loved was seeing malcolm mouth “be careful” when a group of them were carrying jude over to the hospital bed at the end of act one (although it could’ve been out of character to make sure none of them dropped their costar lmao)

- seeing those little moments was esp fun before the play started and they're just milling around and chatting (one moment i loved was when jude changed the music from contemporary to classical, willem noticed and changed it back and teased him abt it)

[jalapenobee]

"One hand at a time! Wait your turn!"

"Tough shit, I'm the one holding the bag."

"Calm your mullet, I bought it!"

"I never said you could call me 'mullet'."

"I said calm your mullet."

Keith frowned and stretched his hand away from Shiro, hoping to put the bag of space trail mix out of reach. In all honesty, Shiro did buy it, but there are these little things called M&M's that Keith wasn't willing to give up. It's an addiction he's…not proud of. Before he died, Texas would always buy bags of trail mix and Keith would always dig out the M&M's, leaving everything else behind. The raisins went to Texas, hence why they didn't just get a bag of the chocolate candies (besides, the trail mix was slightly cheaper).

M&M's held the place of first and favorite candy. Keith didn't share them with anyone, and he wasn't about to change his ways either.

Shiro yanked on Keith's other arm and nabbed the bag, purposefully taking an M&M (okay, how dare he) and chewing it extra loud and obnoxious for emphasis. "Mmm…"

Keith slumped back on the couch, muttering choice words to himself that his brother doesn't bother to correct. "Gimme a handful."

Reluctantly obliging, Shiro glares at Keith and plops a robotic handful of mostly-almonds trail mix in his hand. That bastard. Keith considers separating the less important things from the candy and throwing them at his brother. He almost does, before he remembers the last time he tried pulling something like that (in which saliva covered pretzels were thrown right back at him) and decides maybe he doesn't need a shower that day.

(At a time like this, Keith would note the sun coming in through the windows because it feels like a Tuesday afternoon. However, they're in space. There's no sun nearby at the moment. So instead, Keith notes the fluorescent lights overhead and dark void outside the castle and pretends it's a Tuesday afternoon. In space. Anyways.)

Shiro left for the kitchen, probably to grab a drink or another snack. Keith stayed behind on the couch, tossing some of his trail mix in the air before catching it with his mouth. He missed a lot of them, but that's not important.

What is (somewhat) important is that he ate the trail mix in order of Very Bad Stuff to M&M's. More specifically: almonds, then peanuts, then cashews and raisins, then M&M's. Also, he lined up the chocolate candy in rainbow order. Just saying. Keith popped the first red M&M in his mouth and fractured it with a satisfying crunch. Sounded nice, really. Kind of like an enemy's neck snapping.

But let's not dwell on that. Let's dwell on the fact that Lance had just walked into the common room after an unforgiving session of combat training, all sweaty and tired and face flushed that did not, in any way, make Keith think that he looked cute when he was exhausted. Because he didn't think like that, he scooted to the far side of the couch when Lance sat down. Enjoying his candy in peace would have to wait.

Lance side-eyed Keith and his small handful of M&M's. "...What are those?"

"None of your business."

Keith attempted to shield the candy further by leaning away, only resulting in Lance leaning to stretch over him and oh God what the fuck is happening Shiro come back (or maybe don't, it'd be super awkward and Keith is not up for losing any more of his dignity) and save him why is Lance so close why can Keith feel his neck getting hot-

"Are those M&M's? Can I have one?"

Well. Fuck Lance and his stupid puppy eyes. Keith quickly glanced at his hand, which only held five more M&M's that he was not intent on giving up. Lance wasn't worth even half an M&M, really. He's his rival! He shouldn't be forced to give him any! So why does he feel like he should?

Probably because Lance is leaning over him a little too close and that is the only reason Keith will cave in. Definitely the only reason. Maybe.

Keith shoved Lance back to his side of the couch and threw two M&M's at him, instantly regretting it and cursing himself for not giving him just one and furthermore for not licking it first. Lance being Lance, caught one in his mouth and one in his hand, thanking Keith with that dumb smile that was not endearing whatsoever.

And then Shiro decided to make his entrance, casually walking in with a bottle of water (was it?) in hand and muttering to himself, something about "who put the water in the way back of the fridge behind all the food goo because I swear-"

And then he noticed Lance, M&M still in hand, sitting in Shiro's previous spot, with an oblivious smile on his face and Keith looking grumpy and glaring at the blue paladin.

And then he decided to open his big stupid fucking mouth to inquire about Lance's food. "Is that an M&M?"

Lance nodded enthusiastically and ate the said M&M. Shiro bit back a smirk as Keith narrowed his eyes and slowly started rising from the couch. "I can and will kill you in your sleep so you better- Shiro. Shiro, stop backing away oh my God-"

Such an innocent question. With such humiliating consequences for Keith.

Pidge was gonna looove this.

[icewindandboringhorror]

The evil slow creep of it being like "haha these will just be quick little side quests, not much effort at all!" and then noticing each one is getting progressively longer than the last, thus no longer being minimal effort.. auGh....

[styxpenz]

might have stayed up past my bedtime writing last night and this is all i have to show for it (also the fact that i woke up at 1)

[inthedarkofficial]

Just found out my childhood best friend is engaged... logically this makes perfect sense considering she's only a few months younger than me, completely normal thing to happen, but considering she is and will always be either 8 or 15 in my head, this is fucking bizarre.

[caswellseyes]

string lights and sleepovers

okay so once upon a time, like literally ages ago, i reblogged this fun prompt list and wrote all but one prompt i was sent. then Stuff Happened irl and i kind of stopped writing for a little bit entirely, which was not great, but i'm back now!

this is for @michelangelinden, who requested  “you looked pretty lonely in there, how about a sleepover in my room tonight?” for willex! i'm sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it! the full thing is over on my ao3, i'll put a link in the reblogs!

Sometimes, when it’s late at night, Alex stares at his wall and wonders when his wallpaper will come to life.

Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that. He’s not a young woman on bed rest in a Gothic story, after all. Wallpaper coming to life doesn’t tend to happen often. Not to him, at least. No, what Alex means is just that sometimes, he can’t sleep even though he knows he should, and instead of letting himself freak out about that too much, he rolls to his side and starts a staring contest with the fake bricks on his wall and imagines them coming loose one by one and building a tiny castle around his bed so he’ll never have to leave again. 

See? It sounds at least a little bit less concerning like that. Maybe. Hopefully.

A light knock on the door startles Alex out of his thoughts. He blinks. Looks like the wall wins that round.

Alex sits up and turns toward the door, looking at the silhouette standing in the door opening.

“Hey,” Willie says, voice pitched low. He sounds sleepy, leaning against Alex’s doorframe. Looks sleepy, too, with his hair gathered in a loose braid and his sleep clothes rumpled. “You okay?”

“Sure,” Alex replies automatically. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Even in the dim lighting of his bedroom, Alex can see the eyebrow Willie raises at that. It makes him smile. Willie always sees right through him.

[pieofdeath]

Btw truly the worst part of writing ROTD is remembering where Pumpkin is at all times.

[coelakanths]

bad memory + pretty alright at poetry = crying when i reread stuff ive written

[readingwriter92]

like idk how excited I am about the plots of any of this newest season of doctor who but man if I'm not loving the shit out of Ncuti Gatwa's doctor. And also Ruby, I love her.

So far I actually really liked Boom? And the last one I just watched was Rogue and I did have a lot of fun with the character of Rogue and his and the doctor's relationship. I knew it was going to happen, didn't know outcome/specifics. So it was a lot of fun.

[tenacious-minds]

I’ve been listening to endrinas the language of flowers fic, and in the authors notes of chapter 1 of part three, they mention how the book never explained how Sirius got his wand back, and my immediate reaction was “I always assumed they never bothered to take it off him”.

[branmuffins22]

If you write fanfiction, how do you get people to care about you as a person as well as your work? What do you need to do? Also, how do you make writer friends for the fandom you're in and meet really cool people who treat you like a celebrity?

um. what