#hate and murder and violence

[our-queer-experience]

nex benedict, a 16 year old indigenous nonbinary student in oklahoma, was beaten to death by three of their female classmates in the same district libs of tiktok has been targeting. not only is this heartbreaking for us to hear about, but i can’t even begin to imagine what this must be like for the family.

too many trans children have died and too few people are talking about this

[wykwryt]

fucking hell they put an ai chatbot in windows 11

[littlefankingdom]

This is how it feels rn. I hate you DC.

Y'all may disagree, but Bruce is a fictional character. So, with the classist bs DC has been saying about Jason, we can say that any classist shit Bruce has ever said about Jaybin is more DC speaking through him than his actual character. And also, it is weird af to have a man that believes in infinite second chances and bad guys becoming good, to also believes children born from criminals will become criminals. The math isn't mathing, DC.

Anyway, 80s Bruce loved his studious adorable baby that stole his tires, and he has admitted his reasoning behind taking Jason in was "I miss having a kid around" and not actually "Jason will become a criminal if I don't intervene".

[mawlaeina]

отчаянный | Desperate

(adj.) having a great need or desire for something.

🍊 content: Obsessed! Childe x fem! reader, implied red string of fate (sort of)

✦ content w: religious themes (if you squint), praise and worship (if you squint?), implied violence and murder by Childe, general angst

Childe had to fight.

Ajax was not older than 14 years old when he suddenly fell into the abyss on a regular snowy day in Snezhnaya. He closed his eyes for one moment, and the next thing he knew he was falling down towards dark colored waters of what looked like a dimly lit cave.

In seconds, Ajax felt himself crashing down harshly against the surface of the water before he began to slowly sink. He shivered, the water constantly staying icy and cold even when he was below the surface, and there was also an uncanny atmosphere that he felt as he continued to sink.

In a panic, Ajax swam up—the feeling of such a heavy weight on his entire body almost choked him off of oxygen as he managed to break to the surface of the water.

He gasps for air as he steadies himself before be swims to some nearby land. He clings to the sandy ground once he was out of the water, choking and gasping as the density grew greater on his body—as if it was going to crush his lungs and ribs at any given moment.

But he manages to grow accustomed to it a bit as he composes himself once more. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he asks himself what was happening.

He looked around for a moment and realized that the entire place was packed with wolves with shadow-like features that were focused on him upon his arrival.

The creatures were simply staring at Ajax with some kind of dark madness and hunger—albeit slow, some were already approaching him on the little island that he was on.

He had nothing to use to defend himself with—no armor, no shield, no weapons. When one of the wolves finally dashed forward with a jaw slightly hanging and ready to bite, all Ajax could think of was to run.

And he did run away—his legs moving light and fast as he tried to avoid all the other wolves that were coming in front of him. He was running even though his legs were tired, even when his lungs started to feel like they were bursting again.

For a moment, he was happy as he managed to lose sight of the wolves.

That was until he tripped.

He tripped over his own feet and began to roll down painfully against the rough and rigid ground. Once he finally landed at the bottom, his body had taken multiple fractures on the torso, and bleeding wounds on his face and arms.

Ajax groaned in pain, reaching and placing his hands on his hair before weakly clenching his hand on it. Ajax could hear the wolves coming as they howl with distorted voices from the direction he was just running away from.

He began to panic again, his breathing frantic and scattered all over the place. He closed his eyes for a moment as the darkness began to settle in his vision. For a moment he saw glimpses of mental images of his family—his mother, father, older and younger siblings.

Was this it? Was this his demise? He felt like crying, he didn’t want to die, not now, not when he was this young.

Why? Why? Why?

He questions desperately to the gods and celestia.

Fight.

His eyes opened, widening in shock as he wore a stunned expression on his face. He heard someone—the voice clear as day, with words spoken firmly as the frozen ice of Snezhnayan fjords, yet it was somehow spoken with the same desperation that he felt.

Fight, please. I’m begging you.

The voice’s tone broke momentarily, and Ajax could somehow picture someone in front of him as he lay on the ground—the person pleading, their warm and ticklish tears fell from their eyes and onto Ajax’s cheeks. Though their face was blurry and could be vaguely seen, he sensed some familiarity coming from them—even though he remembers no one with such a voice.

I don’t want you to die.

In an instant, Ajax rolls to the side as he avoids a claw strike from a wolf that had already came up to him. His back bumps into a nearby stone wall, but he manages to take a sharp rock before standing up with haste.

His hands are tensed, clenching the sharp stone and wielding it like a kitchen knife. Despite the state of his body, he felt the urge, the need to move and survive against the monster.

Ajax dashes forward as the shadow-like wolf lunges towards him. Before the ruined animal could bite his head off, he slides under the wolf and stabs its hide before slicing through its underbelly using the stone. Once the wolf’s body passes over him, it collapses onto the ground with a pool of blood quickly forming under its lower half.

For a moment, there was some sort of adrenaline that came over Ajax—one that made him feel stronger, more confident to survive, and his fresh kill ignited a newly sense of pride of winning.

He liked how it felt for some reason.

It wasn’t until the adrenaline wore off rather quickly. He coughed out some blood as he drops the sharp bloody stone to the ground, just before he fell to his knees—eventually, his body collapses onto the ground just like the wolf before passing out.

—

Childe had to survive.

When Ajax woke up, he found himself laying on the ground—his body covered in bandages. He groaned as the pain began to strike all over his body. He looked around for a moment and saw numerous wolves laying dead and bloodied everywhere.

He doesn’t remember doing any of this, and it somehow bothered him.

The next thing he knew, he was took in by a stranger who introduced herself as Skirk. He was taught multiple skills on how to survive in this place, which was called the Abyss. Skirk teaches Ajax how to survive and pass through the regions of the Abyss unharmed, and how to wield his hydro vision in the abyss—even though he wasn’t aware that he received a vision at all in the first place.

After a month of rigorous and intense training, Skirk teaches Ajax to wield Foul Legacy. For the first few tries, transforming and using Foul Legacy for even just a few seconds put such a heavy strain on his body, and he eventually ended up in critical condition every time.

When he passes out, he dreamt or had short visions. He saw someone making tea on a kitchen counter, their faces were blurry and could be vaguely seen but he could feel some sort of warmth emanating from them. Ajax somehow knew it was the same person who talked some sense into him on the first day that he fell into the Abyss.

He holds his hand out, reaching it gently towards the person.

He wakes up, his breathing heavy as he sweats profusely. Skirk was confused as to why Ajax woke up in such a way, yet she dismisses it as an insignificant nightmare that the young child probably had.

However, in Ajax’s case, he wanted more of that warmth that he felt just now. How long has it been since he’d touch something warm after falling into the cold Abyss? He doesn’t recall, he doesn’t remember—so, naturally, as a young adolescent, he wanted more of it, he craved it.

From then on, Ajax began to train harder, harsher—pushing his body to his limits everyday. He got stronger, and that’s what he told himself what his training was for—to get stronger, to be stronger.

To conquer the world.

A merely shallow form of self-manipulation to deny a more selfish reason he had in mind.

In truth, he wanted to see and feel more of that person, and he did—so long as he passed out. He passes out more frequently now as he continuously extends his limits—pushing himself until his body was in pain from just moving a hand.

Everytime he would pass out, he would constantly try to reach for them when they weren’t looking, he would try to see their face clearer, hear their voice clearer as they talked to him for even just a second. Eventually, he realizes they were a year younger or older than him—if not, they were perhaps the same age as he was.

But as another month passed, he began to pass out less, and when he did pass out, if wouldn’t be long enough to see that person again. While it confirmed that he did get stronger, he was irritated by the absence of such a warm presence. The only light that he had in the Abyss, and now it felt like he was losing it.

Stronger, I need to get stronger.

Ajax thought to himself angrily as he began to train even without Skirk. He continued to push his limits—training in the dark and heavy waters until his lungs almost gave out, training against stronger enemies using his Foul Legacy form, training against every other weapon that he could find in the Abyss. His bloodlust began to grow by the day as he relentlessly hunted the monsters that resided in the Abyss.

Yet for some reason, he no longer saw that person when he passed out. Did he recover too quickly? Were they going to leave him behind now? They wouldn’t right? Right?

He could feel himself losing his sanity, his thoughts full of silent pleas for that person to appear at least once every other day or so.

No, no, no, please. Don’t leave me here, come back.

COME BACK!

—

Childe needed to breathe.

When Ajax came back to Teyvat, he returned to his family cabin in Snezhnaya—to which he was welcomed back warmly and gladly with thankful sobs from his family members. Much to his surprise, he had been only missing for 3 days in Teyvat despite having trained for 3 months in the Abyss.

While Ajax missed his family so much, his thoughts were still plagued with the unknown warmth that he felt in the Abyss. Yes, he enjoyed the warm hugs and such affectionate love coming from his family, he enjoyed the warm sensation of his hands when faced to the fire of the cabin fireplace—but those, for some odd reason, could not compare to the comfort that he felt and witnessed first hand in the Abyss.

They were simply not enough.

It was a week after his return that Ajax looked up to the sky. The last shimmering gloss on his eyes reflected the clear blue skies of Snezhnaya that day, and he wondered if that was just the Abyss playing tricks on his head.

He sighed as he plopped down on the snowy ground. The Snezhnayan cold no longer affected him—not when the Abyss conditioned him with colder temperatures.

His hands twitch for a moment, just like it had been for the last week. He needed to move, to fight. He thought he could control himself, that he could return to just being his mother and father’s son.

But he couldn’t, and on that day, he ended up massacring all the ruin guards he could find in his region using his Foul Legacy form.

Ajax, stop, your body can’t handle any more stress.

His eyes widened after hearing a worried voice just as he was about to move to the next region—a small wave of warmth passes by him, the sensation was weak but familiar. He pauses for a moment, waiting for them to speak again—but there was only silence.

Where are you?

He looked around the snowy terrain, still in his Foul Legacy form. It took him a few seconds of silence before his body began to feel heavy—coughing up blood and collapsing onto the snow as he turns back into his normal self.

Where are you?

He repeats inside his head with desperation. He stood up and began to walk around, his other leg limping as he does so. His mouth was slightly agape, taking in shallow breaths of the thin air as blood trickled down his mouth.

Please, please. Answer me, where are you?

When he finally turned his head, he saw you.

Clear as day, warm as the sun.

His breath hitched as he felt your hand on his cheeks, your warmth constantly emanating and burning through his cold skin. He felt like crying right then and there, but he wondered if you were real—if this was real. He raised his hand to touch yours, and it did.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, your voice full of worry—yet its so soothing to his ears. It’s that same voice that Ajax could never mistake for someone else. Ajax just stares at you for a minute, too stunned to speak as he takes in your face. “Hey, you’re badly injured, we should take you home.” You suggest.

Ajax seemed to realize something for a moment. While he knew that the person he’s seen and heard in the Abyss was you, you were acting like a stranger to him—it confused him.

“You’re injured.” Ajax pointed out abruptly as he gently takes your hand off his cheeks and spins you around lightly, which catches you off guard for a second. “Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and angry as he runs a finger down your back—your spine crawls at the painful sensation.

“I got hit by a ruin guard earlier and passed out by that tree earlier.” You explained rather awkwardly. “But I’m fine now, so you there’s nothing to worry about. We should get you home since you’re in an even worse condition.” You say as you turned around to face him. “Can you tell me where you live? I’ll help you get there.”

Ajax tells you where he lives, and it surprises both of you that you two were neighbors. What a coincidence, how come you never saw in each other?

It was already midnight when Ajax returned to his family cabin, with you supporting him from the side. His mother was relieved to see his son back, but her concerned grew when she saw him covered in dirt and blood. She thanked you for accompanying him during his journey home.

You told them that you were going to leave, and Ajax couldn’t help but feel devastated by the idea—so he speaks to his mother, saying how you were also injured.

Naturally, as a loving and concerned adult that she was, Ajax’s mother told you that she could at least treat your injuries before you leave, and that you could stay the night in their cabin and return home the next morning.

The look of reluctance painted on your face somehow ticked something inside Ajax’s mind. He never questioned about what happened in the Abyss—how he heard your voice when he was on the brink of death, when he was barely going to survive. He simply concluded that it just happened, that your fates were intertwined so strongly that your voice reached him even when the two of you were worlds apart.

Don’t you feel the same? Why do you want to leave?

He wanted to be angry, but he can’t find it in himself to be angry at you—not when he thinks you’ve done so much for him, not when you saved him from the brink of death in the Abyss. You were his salvation, his one and only savior in this world—not even a single person from celestia came to put him back into his senses at the time, and for that he no longer believes in them.

He believes in you.

When you finally agreed to his mother’s offer, he felt glad—an understatement to the joyful emotion that he had swirling in his chest. He lets you sleep inside his room after being treated, and when you fell asleep, he took it upon himself to watch you.

He was kneeling on the ground, arms and head resting on the side of the bed. He continues to watch you in silence for a moment before he briefly caresses your cheek.

My god.

He lifts himself up a bit, enough that he hovered over your sleeping face. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead, feeling the comforting warmth that you had stinging his cold lips.

My universe.

—

Childe suffocated.

When he finally got recruited into the fatui, he was given a nickname, “Childe”.

Acknowledged by the Tsaritsa and the organization for having great strength at such a young age, he was given a chance to be promoted—to become a harbinger, but he had to sacrifice something or someone.

He was made to choose.

Blinded by the loyalty that he swore, he chose to sacrifice someone who would get in the way of the fatui ambition that he had. You.

With fates intertwined as strong as celestia, he was told by the Fatui that you would hinder his progress, his strength.

You were a distraction.

While Childe did return to be a fairly normal person ever since he had you by his side, the warmth that he felt from you slowly faded into something more common. Your warm hugs no longer felt special over time—it was as if you turned into another fireplace for him to stare at.

Snezhnaya was not as cold as the Abyss, and so he disregarded the need for something as warm as you.

So there he stood, in front of you with a knife held dangerously close to your neck. His hands trembled, and he seemingly fought every cell of his body from hesitating.

I just have to kill her.

He thought to himself, his inner voice lacking any sense of determination to do so.

You, yourself, was not surprised that he had come to kill you.

You knew this day would come, and you just hoped it wouldn’t happen to his family. While you were clearly against him joining the Fatui, you said nothing—a decision that you’ve come to regret every day.

As his hands trembled, you smiled sadly—closing your eyes as you held his hands. For a moment, his eyes widened, and everything turned silent as the sound of blood splattered on the ground.

Childe did not come home to his family that day like he said he would.

—

Childe has forgotten how to breathe.

“What do you mean you don’t know about big sister?” Teucer pouted, and Childe simply laughed confusedly at the young ginger.

“Who are you talking about, Teucer?” Childe asks his younger brother without a single shine of sunlight reflecting his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about!”

“Big sister Tonia?” Childe raises a brow, but Teucer shakes his head with a frown—he was getting upset with his big brother now.

“The one you always brought to go ice fishing with us.” Childe doesn’t know what his younger brother was talking about.

“I don’t recall bringing anyone other than you when we go ice fishing by the lake, Teucer.” Childe spoke honestly and knelt down to Teucer’s level. “Buddy, are you sure you aren’t tired?” Childe asks worriedly.

Teucer shakes his head, still frowning.

Everything was so odd for Childe ever since he woke up this morning. Everyone in his family cabin had asked him about someone he doesn’t know about—his family claims that the two of them were close, very close, and they wondered why Childe no longer remembers them.

Who on earth were they talking about?

Childe asks himself as he holds Teucer’s hand as they walk to the frozen lake nearby. He wonders who that person was, and how he forgot about them if they were so close.

Once they arrived to the frozen lake, Childe couldn’t help but stare at the scenery for a moment. It was as if he was stunned for a moment from the aching sensation that he deeply felt in his chest.

It was the same lake that he’d visited in his entire life, yet for some reason…

Why is it so cold?

✦ this is kind of bad.. idk how to feel about this

✦ I didn’t want to write this because I hate angst + my sweet boy, but if I suffer I’m dragging everyone else with me

✦ would rather praise and worship him instead ngl

✦ there’s gonna be an extended version of this if I don’t get lazy soon so look out for that

✦ Yes, there’s ivantill reference there

[extremely-judgemental]

When did Nesta even take credit for killing King of Hybern? When did Elain want credit for it?

If Elain hadn't snuck up and delivered the first blow, Nesta wouldn't have survived. But the King is also a fae with healing abilities who is verse in magic like no other and the only one to use something as powerful as the Cauldron itself. One stab wasn't going to kill him. If Nesta hadn't finished the job, all three of them would be dead.

Nesta and Elain killed the King together. But neither of them wants glory for it.

[rubydubydoo122]

I think the funniest thing about how the Fandom perceives Tim (especially obnoxious Tim fans) is that he is was deeply hurt by the actions Jason, Damian, and Dick have done to him, but lowkey that’s just the fandom projecting

Tim lowkey did not give a fuck. Maybe a little at first, but he definitely does not hold a grudge against any of them.

[7-crows-in-a-trench-coat]

my dad got annoyed with his mom bc his stance is firmly “political violence undermines democracy and isn’t ok no matter what” and my grandma is very vocal about her belief that “someone should shoot that motherfucker in the head”

[elizakai]

i love the MTTRIO because they are all judgy hypocritical little shits living off of spite and appy juice

[mrmeepsmadmind]

idw bumblebee and prowl shouldve broke up bcs he wouldnt stop 𝚊sking prowl to pause his report for just one lil astrosec so he can change his various pastel colored pens while making his cute little aesthetically pretty for no reason & very time - consuming notes with big colorful fonts & cute designs real quick

also another thought abt annoying ass bb trying to make running a literal planet cotteque so he doesn't go crazy bcs hes now a politician when all he ever wanted was to deliver mail & smile & wave at bots who call him cute ---

bee: 𝚠heeljack, im so sorry about this but do you mind repeating the time-stakingly long introduction, instruments, research references, modules, hypothesis, counter thesis, procedures, analysis, second - retrial, results, & explanation that you just spent 700000 earth hours saying because i was busy drawing a cute little bee in the corner of my notes please :] ?

wheeljack:

idw bee trying to run a planet that fucking hates him is just rlly funny to me, especially since everyone views bee as the goody character who everyone loves & he views himself as that & then they finally win this consuming war & he can reap his rewards of being loved without holding a gun & no one fucking likes him. hes even getting on his own old team's nerves & not in the loveable scamp way but the get the fuck out of my face way

[wazzappp]

Fun thoughts I am having while hiding in my room away from the friends my mom has over (I love her but I can only hear 'My name is Mary like the virgin but I'm not' so many times).

Re!Robbie vs Canon Robbie when it comes to sound design and how it's frightening in different directions.

Canon Robbie is LOUD when he's the Rider. They're always screaming or growling or howling in what I can only imagine is some god awful hybrid of human distress and engine noises. Which is scary as SHIT. It lends itself very well to the sort of fast paced chases that happen, and using sound to distract or overwhelm prey makes a LOT of sense for them. It's hard to think when your running away from something that won't stop screaming at you. Plus there's the fact that stealth doesent make a lot of sense for them. They're on FIRE so who CARES if they're loud yk? Overall 10/10 very scary I love this angy boi he's doing GREAT.

RE!Robbie in his altered state is the OPPOSITE. He barely talks at all unless he's trying to call out for Gabe or Lisa. He might let out a grunt or small noise if he's hurt. But for the most part, he's just. Quiet. That consistent wheezing death rattle of someone whose about to die but it never happens. Not talking, not yelling, just watching and waiting for a moment to attack. Very spoopy in my opinion I love them both <3

[what-have-i-unleashed]

freaky toxic kist post 2: electric boogaloo

oh gods why did no one stop me from writing these

(cw: violence, danger kink, homoerotic fighting, not safe or sane)

whenever killer and dust fight each other, it's violent, it's messy, it's addictive. it's like having a partner who knows the song and dance - who knows intuitively and intimately what you will do, what you want, what you crave out of the fight. killer is precise, each of his attacks lethal and graceful like a feline. dust is manic, hard-hitting and destructive in his onslaught.

killer has dust pinned after a long battle. he's trapped dust under a pile of blue attacks to prevent dust from moving. they're both injured, but they won't stop until one emerges as the victor. dust is breathing hard while killer is grinning on top of him. then killer leans down, face inches away from dust while he holds his knife to dust's throat.

"feeling a bit blue there, dustbunny?" taunts killer, as dust snarls at him. but he quiets down as killer presses the edge of the knife to his throat, drawing blood.

dust can feel killer traces his other hand under dust's shirt, stopping at the ribs where his soul would manifest. he can feel killer's intent, an intoxicating mix between homicidal glee and fervent interest. dust can't help but respond in kind, torn between apprehension and excitement.

"you know," killer hums as he strokes the insides of dust's rib cage, "this is how i like it. i can simply blast you to pieces from afar, but i prefer seeing this up close. this moment where you're hanging between life and death..." killer squeezes the bone painfully, making dust hiss. "your soul so close in my hand, the essence of you being all laid bare..." he whispers next to dust's skull. "come on, give it to me, dusty~"

blinking, dust weakly laughs, "heh... go... to... hell..."

silence. then killer slowly raises his knife, his face impassive in its half-moon smile. the knife is pointed towards dust's eye socket. dust's eye lights vigilantly follow the knife with dread heavy in his soul. after a tense moment, killer swings down. dust flinches, as it impales right next to his skull. dust stares at the knife, unable to look away as his breathing abruptly stops. he can't help the unmistakable rush of thrill and fear pumping into his marrow, his soul jumping out of his rib cage. as the adrenaline still coursing through him, dust senses killer cupping his soul reverently. numbly, he registers the cooing, as if killer is speaking right into his rapidly beating soul.

"good boy~"

[ultramagnys]

need to write an essay about how terrible skybound is. i keep tag ranting about it and i really need to collect my thoughts

[utilitycaster]

WAIT finishing up The Name and uhhhhhh more "entitled fans = kipperlily" validation re: the fact that two teachers are favoring and conspiring with the Rat Grinders and somehow that doesn't count, and also, THEY'RE TRYING TO DISSOLVE THE SCHOOL AND TELEPORT THE ENTIRE TOWN BECAUSE THEY'RE MAD SOMEONE ELSE IS MORE POPULAR AND YOU THINK THEY SHOULD BE REHABILITATED?

[failure-girl-fuyu]

stop talking to her she might be stupid as fuck but even you don't deserve to help her with her homework, or even breathe the same air as her

i hope she fucking rejects you the moment you confess and stops interacting with you, you ugly disgusting rat

you bullied me since 1st grade and now you're acting all nice to a girl who only looks better than me? i'm going to push you off the roof i hate you so much