#does he get hallucinations too??

[verycorrectlegomovie]

So apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually severe psychological distress.

-Emmet

[cairafea]

stupid dungeon meshi au where laios is an unexplainable eldritch monster thing that constantly eats anything he can get his hands on. everyone in the party treats him like a slightly disorderly raccoon. everyone outside the party gets a fastpass to heaven from just seeing him.

[phoenixcatch7]

We could make Sqq a transformer in his past life. Like optimus prime sorta transformer. Cybertronian.

He'd be the only surviving seeker (winged guy) on the autobots side (I don't know all the canons but I don't think they have, like, any). Pretty young when the war started - unfathomably ancient for humans, the kiddie of the group to them.

And he arrives on earth. Discovers the Internet. Immediately gets hooked on critiquing stupid Web novels in every language, which being a sentient machine he can do at great speed without forgetting anything. Decides to read the final chapter during a battle because he's so close to the end and airplane had better pull SOMETHING good. Is so infuriated (distracted) by the ending he messes up and immediately gets killed by some low level decepticon. After FIVE MILLION years of war he gets offed by some loser over a stupid human story that wasn't even very good. He dies SO furious.

And then he gets reborn a human.

He is, as the kids say, big mad.

How by Primus do they do anything??

[seaweedstarshine]

RIP Krakoa 🌹 I can’t lie I’ve been kinda behind since midway through Fall of X I’m gonna catch up before my first SDCC this summer but I hear Vulcan didn’t see much action anyway. Anyway my hand slipped and I found myself looking into the eyes of my canonically psychotic son the best Summers brother who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life, (he’s done lotsa wrong things but I love him more for it)

[dazais-guardian-angel]

I hate to nitpick the Atsushi hallucinating scene in the new episode cause it was SO well done otherwise, but I'm still really sad that they cut out Francis being there. Like... it's not entirely necessary, I guess, but it just adds so much to his character and to the scene itself?

The Francis in Atsushi's mind is this looming, intimidating presence, because Atsushi did of course fight against him, he was his enemy at one point, but I think it undeniably says a lot that he's even included here at all.

I'm pretty sure I saw this discussed back when this chapter first came out, but while everything Atsushi's hallucinations say to him are framed as negative, putting him down, they can also be read as letting him know that the burden of responsibility for making such a huge decision isn't on him (hence why he decides to let Fukuzawa decide instead, because he can't make THE choice, but he can still choose to act to let someone else decide, and not simply do nothing), and Francis is no exception in this regard. Since he's naturally haughty and arrogant in his personality, this fake version of him doesn't at all feel out of character, coldly saying that "nobody expects anything of you", but again, I think this line especially can also be read as "you are not expected to do anything". In that way, it feels more reassuring, and maybe even dare I say kind -- the fact that Atsushi even considers him important enough of a figure in his life to think of what he would say to him in this moment means that he counts Francis among his allies now. Yes, they didn't get along at first when Francis lied and told him that he only wanted to revive Margaret just so she could kill Hawthorne (because god forbid he actually admit out loud that he cares about people, smh), and obviously because of the whole almost burning Yokohama down and trying to kill him and Akutagawa thing lol, but I'm pretty sure Atsushi changed his mind about him after he saw the state Margaret was in, and recognized how much Francis cares about her and wanted her to be alright. He probably still remembers him talking about his desire to bring back his daughter and save her and his wife, too. The guy still probably isn't someone Atsushi would want to hang out with and be buddy-buddy with during his free time lmao, but the airheaded vain old sport still has a good heart, deep down, and I think Atsushi has seen this by now, because he's a kind person, and so I think it speaks volumes that he unconsciously looks to him for advice here. Francis is just a really good and underrated character, and this is such a small but meaningful moment that shows his development so well, the only moment with him we've gotten or any of the Guild really in such a long time, so it makes me sad to see this cut 💔

I also just feel like not including him kind of weakens the impact of Akutagawa's appearance here?? Like, there's a progression of the order of people Atsushi hears/sees in this scenes: first, people from the ADA sans Dazai, who are all portrayed as on the same level, because he cares about them all equally, aside from I guess Kyouka (again, sans Dazai, the most important person to him). Then, there is Francis, and not to say that Francis is more important to Atsushi than the ADA, obviously not, but he's one of the last to appear because he used to be his enemy, and so he commands much more of a presence, has more of an impact -- but at the same time, like I said, it's complicated: he's not really his enemy anymore, but something between a rival and a friend, and so for that reason his words carry more weight. He is someone Atsushi, logically, shouldn't trust, after what he did to him in the past, and yet he does, because things have changed since the Guild arc, and he knows he can count on him to be there for him and the ADA now.

And then, after him, there is Akutagawa. Who is basically exactly the same as everything I just described for Francis, but times one hundred. Of course Akutagawa would be last. Of course, if there's someone Atsushi would simultaneously and paradoxically be both intimidated by and yet comforted to hear their advice because of their tumultuous history together, far more than Francis, it would be Akutagawa. The progression of ADA members > Francis > Akutagawa in that order gives Akutagawa's appearance much more weight imo than just going straight to him from the ADA members, especially with the specific framing of him standing in line behind Francis to judge/advise Atsushi.... it's just much more powerful, and I wish they'd kept it like this, for both Francis and Aku's characters.

[mudstoneabyss]

As someone with arachnophobia my soul would’ve left my body. Spiders always seem to dart closer bc of their shitty vision

it seemed so confused as to what both I and it were doing in there and I could really ask it the same question

[technicolorxsn]

love how there are pretentious video essays that just repeat the book and meander and ramble about house of leaves. it's what zampanó would have wanted. it is not, however, what I want

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

thinking about Status Screens in S-Class Heroine for the non-Ailette characters.

Tesilid's Seven Virtues and Seven Sins restrictions manifest as computer-like words, but no one else can see them.

At first I thought that maybe status screens were reserved for those favoured by the TM gods. But when he receives the Defend Partner skill, he casually references and reads it out.

This confirms that it's really normal for there to be status screens, and it's also taken for granted that no one except the owner can see them.

Basically. Tesilid probably has access to some kind of skill list, like any gamer in a system like this would.

So headcanon that during his bad days, he pulls up the skill list screen and stares at the Defend Partner skill. His macaroon would be ten years old by now so it's probably gone, so the Defend Partner skill would be the only momento he has. As a reminder that she exists out there and he'll meet her again, the one person he can be himself around. It was probably a source of comfort.

Then he realises she doesn't exist in the world and no one even remembers her and like. The skill becomes the only proof that he hadn't hallucinated her, all those years ago. Every time he regresses he opens up the skill list, because as long as the Defend Partner is listed there, then maybe she'll be in this regression, if not then the next one.

But no one else can see his screen and confirm for him that the Defend Partner skill is really there; so did the skill and its associated memories really exist or not? He can see it there, but is it really?

[gothamcityneedsme]

something something, barbara is actually the like. main next gen hero of the arkhamverse because shes the only one who voices to batman that shes continuing the crusade etc etc

[djevelbl]

SourGummyWyrm you win, this is the best one yet--

Ok so mild ramble below about theory on the book with spoilers of shit already mentioned in it, for if anyone reading wants to go into More Or Less Myself spoiler-free (no I don't count the text on the photo bc it is HILARIOUSLY out of context)

So there's a kidnapping done by the Demon King in Teardrop Sonata, the shitty ass novel the protagonist gets isekai'd into, right? And that kidnapping victim is who Lord Blackwing fancies, right???

Considering babygirl NEVER met the woman he fancied in Teardrop Sonata bc our resident INSANE protagonist distracted him (not NECESSARILY with the purpose of MAKING HIM NOT MEET THE WOMAN but okay) by preening his massive crow wings, AND said INSANE MAN is ACTIVELY FLIRTING AND ROMANCING THE LORD OF HOUSE BLACKWING MERELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT I think it makes sense if the prince is about to be kidnapped

Cuz like. think about it: the whole visiting the new king thing is just there in Teardrop Sonata so that the woman Lord Blackwing fancies gets kidnapped, resulting in him and his ally, the blood lord (not his actual title lol) rescuing her and becoming closer ig

So anyway are we about to have a knight in shining armor moment with THE hottest character in the roster (the blood lord) omg? PLEASE TELL ME WE WILL I NEED THAT LIKE I NEED OXYGEN I NEED THAT MAN'S CLOTHES RIPPED AND HIM BATHED IN BLOOD LIKE A GOD ON THE BATTLEFIELD. IT'S A VISCERAL PRIMAL NEED THAT I NEED FULFILLED

even if we did tho, ozymandias would NEVER stay put long enough to play the part of a damsel in distress, not even when KIDNAPPED so yea it'll be HILARIOUS if it happened also whatever blood thing the blood lord and ozymandias got going on IS hot and I won't have anybody critiquing it. next question--

[pomefioredove]

need overblot boys with epel, and floyd with a reader that randomly lore drops as if they're an old dad like "yeah lol my old school had a shooting once....anyways *SNOREE*" and when asked they just agree and walk away and never elaborate whatsoever💀 if you feel uncomfortable feel free to delete or ignore‼️love ya pookie💥

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ a reader with a backstory

I got u 🫡🫡

summary: wacky reader lore type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, vil, epel, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

you find new ways to raise Riddle's blood pressure every day

little guy is worried enough as it is

you've already got your school work, taking care of Ramshackle, taking care of Grim, taking care of all the other freshmen, taking care of-

well... you get it

the last thing he needs is to hear another one of your stories

"oh, yeah, that's like the time I got stabbed"

"????? WHAT??"

what's entertaining to you and ADeuce is mortifying to Riddle

if you're not careful you'll end up sleeping on the floor in his room

where he can keep a close eye on you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you're like Leona's little court jester

and he takes you with him everywhere

it's not easy to get a genuine laugh out of him, after all

besides, what's so bad about a little dark humor? it's not like you died or anything

he knows you're a resilient little thing

and you seem to love telling him about "that time you crawled into a drainage pipe", anyway

you make him laugh; he likes you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul indulges you

his white noise machine stopped working last month and you make for excellent background ambience

so, he lets you talk yourself in circles about your school work, your friends, Grim, Grim again

and then you drop the most HEINOUS bombshells in the middle

"blah blah blah Grim, blah blah Crowley, blah blah, that one time I got lost in the woods for a day, blah blah-"

he loses his train of thought every time

now, Floyd is the complete opposite

he will hyperfocus on the most mundane details

and ignore the bombshells

will give you an, "oh, that's cool" to your ghost story but will find you the pair of socks you mentioned liking three months ago

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil is just fascinated by you

you as a person, of course

but also the fact that you're still alive

one night, he's explaining the reason he makes all of Kalim's food and you're like

"oh, yeah, I get it. I got mold poisoning once and hallucinated for a week"

?????

then you go right back to asking him about the recipe

sitting on the counter, as happy as could be

"HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!!!"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is used to this

he knows that look on your face

he will shush you with a finger to your lips before you even start

"don't tell me, I'm stressed enough as it is"

he's going to break out if you keep at it

he finds you quite... macabre

which is entertaining until he sees you going down a flight of stairs without holding onto the railing and remembers all those stories you'd told him

he's just... concerned for you, that's all

and he does NOT appreciate Epel for encouraging it

"tell us more about the time you fell down that hill into that pile of rocks, Prefect!"

:D

like a kid in a candy store

learning new Lore is like the highlight of his week

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"talk about having a high luck stat..."

Idia is more entertained than anything

he thought these kinds of things only happened in anime, but...

...there you are

it sounds like you experience more in a single month than he has in his whole life

and you know what?

GOOD

you can keep your freaky real-world experiences!

he'll just live vicariously through you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he's been putting so much effort into learning and blending with human culture, and now here you are with your terrifying stories

you tell him in such earnest, too

you seem so... unbothered by it

perhaps humans are less fragile than he thought?

of course, he shouldn't have underestimated you in the first place :)!

then you come over for dinner one night

"hahah, yeah, last time I was at someone's house their grandma threw a lamp at my head and I got a concussion"

Silver and Sebek both go >_>

Lilia goes <_<

and then Malleus is there like, "ah, another fascinating tale :)"

[autistichalsin]

Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending

If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.

So let's break these down!

Lae'zel:

I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.

This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.

Karlach:

Fuck you.

Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.

Wyll:

I... I forgive you.

This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.

There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.

Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?

(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)

Selunite Shadowheart:

I... I thought we were going to save each other...

This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.

She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.

Gale:

You made me want to live...

From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.

It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.

Spawn Astarion:

I should have killed you when I had the chance...

The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.

And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?

All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.

Ascended Astarion:

No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...

In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.

But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?

He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.

Halsin:

Thaniel... goodbye...

Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.

So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.

And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.

Minthara:

No... we were meant to do this together...

Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.

[rebelfell]

A li’l more self-indulgent bestfriend!eddie fluff…

reader w/ boobies, cont’d from here

“Do you, um…do you think you got a good enough look?”

Ringing. There’s a ringing in Eddie’s ears and he’s pretty damn certain his jaw is on the floor. And he is going to need about a million q-tips stat before he believes he actually heard those words come out of your mouth in that exact order.

Did he die? Is this a dream? A coma? Did he get trapped in the Matrix? If so, which color pill does he take to stay in it forever?

“Eddie? You okay?”

Your face fell the longer he took to respond, shrinking into yourself as worry washed over you.

Thinking you must have misread things, thinking he was just being nice, thinking you’ve just ruined everything by throwing yourself at the best friend you’ve ever had…

YES, YOU IDIOT! SAY FUCKING “YES” SAY SOMETHING YOU’VE BEEN QUIET FOR WAY TOO LONG SHE’S GONNA THINK YOU’RE—

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Pretty sure I hallucinated. Uhh…any chance you can repeat that?”

“Eddie…”

He can almost hear you scoff and see your eyes roll before it happens. You glance around, looking for where you tossed your bag when you got here, but Eddie reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist. His thumb rubs over the delicate skin on the inside of it, praying he’s not imagining it that he can feel your pulse quickening underneath the calloused pad.

“Sweetheart, you just offered me the single greatest honor and privilege of my life,” he says. “Forgive me for wanting some extra reassurance. Seriously…how is that even a question?”

Relief floods Eddie’s brain as your lips slowly spread into a smile prettier than every sunset he’s ever seen before combined. His heart is pounding in his chest, all his other organs shuddering with the force, as your hands carefully pull from his grasp and drop to the hem of your shirt.

The pounding stops. His breathing stops.

Everything stops as you lift it off fully this time, letting it fall to the floor beside your feet. It lands in a heap and Eddie is struck with the urge to fold a piece of clothing for maybe the first time ever in his life. Because if you ask him, that thing should be in the Smithsonian behind a bulletproof glass barrier—the shirt you removed in his presence.

If that’s not historically significant, what is?

Except Eddie can’t even think about that any more, because now your arms are raising again and your hands are reaching behind your back to unhook the clasps of your bra.

Forget the Matrix. This is heaven.

He stares at you raptly, not even trying to hide the fact that his eyes are about to jump right out of his skull. Black lace falls to the floor and Eddie is tempted to join it, more than ready to sink to his knees for you and do whatever you say for the rest of his life. Only he can’t form the words to tell you that because all he can think about is how your bare fucking boobs are out in his room.

You are topless and literally a foot away from his bed and—god fucking damn it why didn’t he change his sheets?!

“Can I, um…”

His eyes dart between you and them, his mouth still agape. His hands flex at his side, his fingers trembling with the need to grip their softness, to mold and squish them in his palms, to roll your nipples between his thumb and index until he hears the sweet, sweet sound of your moans—

“Please,” you whisper.

Okay, yep. Definitely heaven.Only in heaven would you be the one pleading for Eddie to touch you.

“Fuck, they’re so pretty,” he sighs, almost mournfully, his eyes rounding as his hands came up to cup them gently. “How do you walk around with ‘em all day? I’d never get anything done if…”

He trails off, a flush coloring his cheeks, bashful smile making his dimples deepen.

“If, what?” you prompted.

“If they were mine.”

His eyes lifted to meet your gaze, deep brown irises brimming with heat. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and his hands stretch, his fingers spreading wider and squeezing tighter.

“They’re all yours, Eddie,” you tell him with a small smile. “Do whatever you like.”

He doesn’t need any further instruction.

A breathy laugh flutters in your chest as he buries his face in between them. Eagerly, as if he was trying to suffocate himself. Shit, maybe he is. He’d happily die right now with your warm flesh on his face, the scent of you in his nose, and his breath rippling down the middle of your sternum.

He kisses and kisses and kisses them, like he’s the pope and you’re the tarmac. And then he’s shaking his head back and forth, moaning and humming and groaning while you erupt giggles—downright giddy with all his attention on you.

It almost makes you feel…proud of your boobs.

Because there were ones out there that were bigger than yours; ones that were smaller than yours; ones more evenly sized or shapely that better filled out dresses or low-cut tops.

But none of those boobs were the ones currently reducing Eddie Munson to a puddle before your very eyes. That’s just yours.

And they are perfect.

Eddie jumps when he feels you pull away, his head popping up, his bangs mussed and sticking out to reveal his vast forehead and his panicked eyes. Shit, what did he do? Did he bite you? He could have sworn he only thought about doing that, but maybe—

You step backwards, smiling as you walk him to the bed and guide him down with you to lay on the mattress. He slides up next to you, his body finding a home against every dip and curve of yours. He looks at your face, brows raising in a silent question until you give him a nod.

“Can’t believe this is really happening,” he moans, burying his face back where it belongs. “I’ve wanted this so long, you have no idea...”

“How…how long?” you gasp, breathless as he kisses all over them, his tongue swiping over your nipples. “Eddie, how long have you felt like this?”

“Fucking forever,” he groans into your skin and the vibrations make waves across your chest. “Can’t remember the last time I went to bed and didn’t think about this…about you.”

And you know you should be melting. You know you should be flattered by what he’s saying and to be over the moon that the boy you’ve been in love with your whole goddamn life actually wants you too—but all you feel right now is rage.

“OW! What the—”

Eddie yelped as you reached over and pinched the skin on his stomach as hard as you could. He pulled away, staring down at your hand and the bright red spot it just made on his pale skin.

“You idiot!” you snapped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wh…what?”

“I’ve been going out with losers for years trying to get over you.”

Eddie blinked back at you, his mouth falling open so he looked a bit like a carp with stage fright. His head started to shake back and forth, wiry curls rustling as he stammered out an answer.

“I…I thought…”

His head dropped, shoulders slumping as he thought of all the men he’d ever seen you with. Cool guys. Normal clothes. Normal interests.

No freaks.

“The guys you were picking were nothing like me. I…I figured I wasn’t your type.”

His big, round eyes flashed back up to yours and soundly vaporized all the anger that overtook you. Because it was true. You always avoided guys that reminded you of him. Always went for the dishes the polar opposite of the one you craved.

Because eating frozen yogurt only ever made you want ice cream more.

“You should have said something, Eddie,” you whisper. Half scolding, half an apology.

“You should have said something,” he countered.

But Eddie nodded, leaning in close to bump your head with his. It made you both smile, yours and his cheeks both pushing up as they touched. And then it wasn’t just your cheeks touching.

His lips met yours with a gentle brush. Almost accidental, but not quite. Delicate and light like the start of a snowfall. It made your stomach swoop and your neck stretch, chasing the feeling. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of hesitation before he dove back in.

There was none.

“Now, if you don’t mind…” he smirked as he crawled on top of you, scooting down until his face was level with your chest, “I’m getting back to the greatest moment of my life. That okay?”

thank you for reading, love you mean it 😘

[avocado-writing]

being the worst wolverine’s wife and one day you get zapped by the TVA for whatever reason, and it looks like you completely disappeared, this is what leads logan to become depressed, start drinking and ultimately ignore the x men when they die etc etc

he goes with wade purely bc he would if you were alive- he couldn’t give less of a shit about wade’s universe but he can feel you over his shoulder like an angel telling him he needs to do this (i imagine it’s like the jean hallucinations he had in the wolverine movie)

what if you’re in the void and he finds you with the rest of the group, like being unable to believe you’re really here?

hehe i love angst and ily avo <3

I already did a “Logan meets you in the void” fic here so I didn’t wanna make this too long or I’d just end up hitting the same beats!

1.4k. rated m for excessive use of the word “fuck”

The day you disappeared you took his fucking soul with him. 

You had been out shopping. Nothing weird about that, he wasn’t some overbearing husband who demanded to know your location every single hour. But then afternoon had turned into evening had turned into night and nobody had heard from you. The unfamiliar sensation of panic had risen, queasy, from his stomach into his chest. They sent out a search party and looked for days. Not a trace of you to be found. Logan couldn’t smell you. Fuck, he’d never not been able to smell you before.

He would hunt for you every day, hoping to find you alive but trying to level with the idea of you being cold and dead because at least then he’d have closure; he’d stay awake for hours on end until he collapsed from exhaustion… then he’d wake up and repeat the whole horrible affair. Nothing. After weeks of searching, Charles had laid a hand on his arm. Logan can still remember the look of pity on his face, like a bomb to the gut. 

“I’m so sorry, Logan.”

They had to assume you were abducted and killed. Your body never turned up. And Logan just had to… keep going. How was he meant to keep going? You were his entire fucking life and then you were just…

Gone. 

To say he was left empty was the biggest understatement of his fucking life. He was a shell of the man he once was. He never laughed any more, never smiled, always trying to plug the hole your absence left in him with whatever alcohol he could get his hands on. Drink himself to a place where he could forget you.

It never really worked. At least it made him numb to the pain though. 

When he staggers home one evening, eyes bleary and head spinning, and finds the whole mansion torched? Everyone left that he loved fucking dead? Well, it takes the last vestiges of his existence and crushes them into dust. 

Oh, Logan, he hears in the back of his mind. Your voice. It breaks him. He falls to his knees, hands buried in the burning timbers, and wails. 

He survives. He does not live. Thinking about everyone he’s lost, with you haunting the corners of his consciousness, always reaching out to comfort him - but when he goes to nuzzle into the warmth of your palm he is overcome with rage and bitterness to find it’s just his own imagination playing tricks on him. 

Then a fucking idiot in red dragged him away from the shambles which was his life and forced him to be functional again, if only barely. He’s angry, so angry all of the goddamn time, even when in the back of his mind he can hear you speaking sweet, calming words to him. 

And then he hears your voice for real. 

Sees you standing across the base this pathetic resistance has made. You look older, sure, he does too - but there’s no mistaking the fire in those eyes. You’re even wearing the same fucking shirt you went missing in, he remembers it, it has a picture of your favourite band. 

His heart stops dead in his chest as you whisper his name. 

“Logan?”

“Oh shit!” says Wade, and Logan has never wanted to kill him more, “Oh shit! Is this your refrigeratored wife, coming back to throw in a third act character arc?”

Logan finishes the bourbon bottle and throws the empty at Wade’s head, where it shatters and knocks him flat. You wince at the violence and he feels like pure shit. 

“I’m fine,” Wade calls from the ground, sticking a thumbs-up into the air. 

“Logan, I…” you clearly want to say something, but you have not been met with the Logan you knew. That Logan would have spent no time running to pick you up and hold you in his arms. This one half-snarls at the man he bloodied on the floor. 

There is an agonising silence, both of you wanting to speak but not being sure how. You take a hesitant step forward. 

“I never thought I’d…”

“How do I know it’s you?”

You recoil like he’s stabbed you with his claws, confusion and hurt flooding your face. Goddamn. He is the worst man alive. He’s not sure if he’s saying it because he just wants to lash out at the nearest person, or…

… or if, because he gets his hopes up, it might just kill him to have them crash down again. 

“What?”

“All these fuckin’ timelines. How do I know? How can I be sure that you’re you?”

The sadness in your face melts away into anger. When you step forward this time, you’re on the warpath. He sees the others in the room cringe, trapped now in this caustic reunion. 

“How can you be sure it’s me? Fuck, Logan, I knew it was you, didn’t I? What do you want? You want me to show you the shitty tattoo I got after we first started dating and we were both drunk?” You lift your sleeve to reveal a little design on your shoulder. “Want me to tell you how an eighteen-year-old Marie was my bridesmaid and she cried because she didn’t think anyone would ever be that kind to her after living as a mutant again? Want me to fucking remind you that in my vows I said I would be by your side, for fucking ever, no matter what - and how when that TVA agent zapped me when I was out for the day and I ended up here, it was only the thought of fulfilling those vows which kept me going? How about all that, or do I fucking need to humiliate myself more?” At this, you gesture to the others who have lined up at the side of the room, trying to look scarce but utterly failing. 

Your shoulders are heaving with emotions, tears hot and heavy in your eyes but not yet spilling over. Logan grits his jaw. Yeah. It’s you. 

“I…” he starts, but trails off when he realises there’s nothing he can say. You shake your head, numb. 

“Fuck you, Logan Howlett,” you spit, words you’ve never ever thrown his way before, and run out of the room. 

“Wow. Aced that one, peanut,” says Wade, and Logan rips off one of his legs. 

He finds you several hours later at a campfire outside the rundown building which makes up headquarters. LeBeau has clearly been kind enough to part with some of his liquor, because you’re gulping down whiskey like it’s air. You stare at him, embers dancing in bitter eyes. 

“What do you want?” you snap. He grunts as he sits down opposite you, either from age or exertion. Stares into the flames. 

“I never stopped looking,” he manages. 

You blink. 

“What?”

“I never…” he shifts uncomfortably. It’s been a long time since he bared this much of his soul. “I never stopped. Even when the others told me to give up, that I would only make it worse for myself, I’d still search. Couldn’t face the idea you weren’t there any more.”

It’s true. If he was twelve bottles deep he’d be looking, if he was hungover as a dog he’d be looking. When the rest of the X-Men were still there and even after they weren’t. If he wasn’t sitting at a bar he was on the streets, ever a bloodhound trying to catch your scent again. 

For the first time you soften. 

“Oh.”

“So… when I asked if it was you… ah, fuck. I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole. Just couldn’t live with it if it wasn't true. Wasn’t real.”

When you stand he expects a slap. He deserves it. What he doesn’t count on is you sitting down - not on the log next to him, but in his lap. He hasn’t felt you do that for so long, and it’s so good. Your warmth on his thigh. You grab one of his hands, still larger than yours, and press it to your chest so he can feel your beating heart. 

“I’m real, Logan. I’m right here, baby,” you whisper, eyes dewy. Fuck. His are as well; he can’t help it. He’s overwhelmed by you, your feel, your gaze, your smell. He’d forgotten how much he loved it. 

Logan noses upwards against you, searching for your lips, and you let him find them. When you stroke his hair he can feel the wedding ring on your left hand. The kiss is desperate, longing, and the best one he’s ever had. 

“Right here,” you repeat, forehead against his. He grips you so tightly that it’s possible he’ll never let go again. 

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Robin gets horrible period cramps during her employment at Scoops Ahoy, she's in pain, she's annoyed and she's stuck there with Steve Harrington of all people. She just sits in the break room, hoping her misery will soon be over, but of course Harrington can't stay at the counter for five minutes and decides to enrich her suffering with his presence.

She expects a stupid quip from him, something about her slacking off.

Instead, he looks at her with a jock equivalent of sympathy. "Cramps?" he asks and Robin's jaw drops to the floor. "I mean, none of my business, I know, but you look really miserable. Did you take a painkiller?"

Robin just shakes her head, clutching her stomach. "Left mine at home," she mutters. "And I really need to get some...supplies, but I can't even stand up. What a day."

Steve just nods and turns around and Robin thinks he'll leave her alone now, maybe mock her for too much information, but then she sees him through the window - he's temporarily closing the shop.

His majestically hairy head peeks through the window as he asks: "Tampons or pads?"

"...pads?"

Steve nods and disappears from her sight.

Robin is pretty sure she hallucinated the whole thing, but ten minutes later Steve is back, pads, painkillers and a...

"A burrito?" she asks and she has to laugh, she really does, because what the fuck is happening?

Steve just shrugs and grabs a handful of napkins. "No heating pads in a summer shopping mall, so I had to improvise. These things take ages to cool down so if you wrap it, it should stay hot for a while and help."

A few minutes later, Robin is back, having used her "supplies" and Steve urges her to sit down, handing her the carefully wrapped burrito. "I'll cover the counter, but if you need anything, let me know."

Robin wants to tell him many things, such as How did you know all of this?, Weren't you supposed to be an asshole?, How did you come up with the burrito idea? and much, much more. But she's really tired and the painkiller is taking its time, so she settles for the shortest one.

"Thanks, Steve."

(look, we all know Steve had many girlfriends and with his caring nature and observation skills, he'd be a cramps relieving pro)