#to give him a happy ending

[illiana-mystery]

Behind-the-Scenes Photos from Platoon

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Matters of Fact

CW: Mentions of death, mentions of mind-altering drug use, manipulation.

The Arkham Knight knows what he is, until he doesn't ~1.2k words

The Arkham Knight is a bad person. He knows this. Knows it even as he slips under the covers of your bed. Knows it when he leaves grime and dirt tracked across your windowsill and the floor of your room.

The Arkham Knight is cruel. He knows this when he leaves after you ask him to stay. Knows this when he disappears for days on end to plan his revenge, to train his men.

Knows it when he makes you cry and beg for someone he isn't.

The Arkham Knight is twisted. He knows this when he kills the man who gave you his number. He knows it when he holds you close and consoles you, tells you that guy wasn't worth dating anyway.

Knows it when he tells you that you don't need anyone but him.

The Arkham Knight is obsessed. He knows this because he dreams of the way your lips feel against his skin, the way your fingers thread through his hair, the way your pulse flutters against his hand.

He knows this because he can't seem to leave you alone, even if it would be better for you, and for him.

The Arkham Knight is a liar. He knows this when he tells you Bruce is going to keep him from seeing you. That his enemies will hunt you down, hurt you to get to him. That it's safer, to be tucked away in his base with him.

The Arkham Knight is mean. He knows this when you yell at him over his men stopping you from leaving his base. He knows it when he yells right back, when he grins wickedly as you snap at him in return.

Knows it when you don't shy away as he stalks towards you, tugging off his helmet and grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss.

Knows it when you slam your fist against the plates of his armor before kissing him right back.

The Arkham Knight is sick, knows it when he slips a fine powder into your drink the night he takes over Gotham. It's nothing that'll hurt you, at least, that's what he tells himself.

The drug only makes you happy, relaxed, more compliant when he drags you from safe house to safe house without explanation.

The Arkham Knight is a mess. He knows this because he's not exactly the Arkham Knight anymore. His symbol torn from his chest, his helmet no longer blue but a bloody red. He knows this because he's crying.

He knows this because he's on his knees in front of you, and you look like you don't if you're going to hit him or hug him.

He knows he deserves to be hit. But he so desperately wants you to hug him. You don't do either. You kiss him. His heart is in his throat. He thinks maybe there's a chance for him.

He's not sure what that chance is. Maybe it's to be good. To be better. To really be with you.

But then you say goodbye. Then you break his heart. Then you leave.

He knows he deserves it for what he's done.

Red Hood knows he isn't good. He's not completely bad, but he's definitely not good. He knows this because people flinch when he saves them. He knows this because there's a trail of bodies in his wake.

But he also knows every single one of them deserved it. He thinks maybe that does make him evil.

Red Hood aches for you. He knows this because he finds himself following the familiar path to your apartment before catching himself.

He knows this because he still dreams of you curled at his side, your mouth pressing kisses to his jaw, your fingers tracing the lines of his back.

Red Hood is a shell of a man. He knows this because he goes back to his dirty, disrepaired apartment, and all he sees is gray.

He knows this because his days and nights are robotic, driven only by the mission. The hole that the death of Batman left in Gotham.

Red Hood is weak. He knows this because he opened the door when you came to his apartment. He knows this because he let you sleep on his bed while he stayed on the couch, unable to rest knowing you're so close but so far from him.

Red Hood is in love with you. He knows this because he'd do anything you asked, and everything you won't.

He knows this because when you break down in the morning over breakfast, when you finally tell him why you came to him, he tugs you to his chest and lets you cry.

Red Hood has no mercy. He knows this because he takes his time killing the man who frightened you. He knows this because he doesn't react to the begging, the screams, the terror in his eyes.

He only feels a sick sense of satisfaction, knowing you won't have to be scared of that disgusting creep ever again.

Jason Todd is dumbfounded by you. You keep showing up at his apartment door. He keeps letting you in, as if he could ever turn you away. You keep making him meals, filling his fridge, adding your things to his apartment.

There's throw pillows and blankets on his couch with your favorite colors. Your favorite movie is paused on the TV. You sleep in his bed more often than not, even if he never joins you.

Jason Todd has no idea how to treat you. He's only even made mistakes with you, only ever done things that should terrify you and drive you away.

But you keep coming back, even after the body of the man who hurt you was found by the police.

Jason Todd wants to be good, at least for you. So he tries. He knows he isn't great at words, but he tries to soften his voice. He knows his touch is rough, so he tries to be still and gentle when you lean into his side.

He knows he's scary looking, so he tries to be smaller when you're around. He knows what he does is dangerous, so he sets up even better security in his apartment, and with permission, yours.

He knows there's something wrong with him, so he reminds you not to hang around him so much.

He doesn't know why you don't listen. Doesn't know why you kiss his cheek, why you start to lead him from the couch to sleep next to you in his bed.

He doesn't know why you sleep curled at his side, on his chest, a leg thrown over his thigh. He knows a lot of things, knows a lot about you.

But does he understand why you kiss his scars and nuzzle his shoulder?

No. Absolutely not. But he doesn't think he needs to. Not when you tell him you'd like to sell your apartment. Not when he gets to help you move the last of your things to his your shared bedroom.

Not when he knows he loves you. Not when you say you love him. Not when he knows it's true.

[hinamie]

binding vow

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[hyunpic]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HYUNJIN 🖤

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[vaggieslefteye]

HUSK, Hotel Bartender & Concierge | 1x04 - Masquerade

"Oh, I FORGOT — you're the wise-old bartender who's seen it all! Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink."

[kelin-is-writing]

I am: Heartbroken…

[hellomagicalsouls]

✨he looks heavenly✨

i am so excited to see this man in action for season 4. it's going to be full one tarot card, séance readings, all round witch shit. which is what i've wanted since day one.

the fashion, the vibe, the pose. beautiful. its giving klaus season one or the closest we'll get to season one.

and klaus season one will always be famous. the jewellery. the background, yes it dingy and grimy but im obsessed. i have way too many feelings on how good he looks.

i would prefer he had his curls but im willing to overlook it for this absolutely impeccable picture.

i am so excited to see him hopefully use his powers and maybe even enjoy using them. still worried about the damn tower tarot card but this. this is everything ive wanted in klaus.

when i think about klaus, this is damn near perfect to what i think. add curls and it is perfect.

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[redaart]

another year goes by (click for hq)

[hauntedhotel]

Kinda obsessed with the difference between Martin's perspective during the apocalypse and Jon’s.

It's the difference between "I know you might hate me right now" and "I love you, I always will, and I know you love me"

It's the difference between Jon not being able to trust anyone, not even himself, but never for a second doubting that Martin loves him and Martin never being sure Jon’s feelings for him won't change.

It's the difference between Jon not always being loved perfectly and Martin having never been loved before.

It's Jon spending the entire apocalypse telling every monster they come across that Martin is his boyfriend, have you met Martin, this is his boyfriend Martin, his anchor, his last tie to humanity, his reason to still be hoping for a better ending. It's Martin telling his Lonely-self that if it comes down to it he'll ask Jon to destroy him and not being sure whether Jon will say no.

Even the jealousy, which is slightly played for laughs, still comes down to Jon being like "aw my boyfriend's getting all possessive 🥰" whereas deep down Martin has never let go of the idea that under different circumstances Jon could do better.

They're more emotionally open with each other during the apocalypse than they are for the years leading up to it, and they still don't stop misunderstanding each other.

[silentheiss]

Shen Qingqiu laughs breathlessly as the corpse of Black-Eyed Vapor Puma falls soundlessly by his feet. He is windswept, rosy-cheeked and so beautiful Liu Qingge’s heart breaks, pieces itself back together and then breaks again.

“Shidi!” Shen Qingqiu jumps over the disfigured body easily and comes to stand beside him. “That was magnificent. You truly are an artist!”

If Liu Qingge was an artist he’d be painting Shen Qingqiu’s portraits and writing him sonnets. But all he can do is kill, and, for some cruel twist of fame, Shen Qingqiu seems to like it when Liu Qingge kills.

His fascination with all things ugly makes Liu Qingge want to tear his soul out and present it to his shixiong. Maybe he’ll like it, too.

“Do you think his partner is nearby? They tend to travel in pairs. It’s not quite a mating season yet, but who knows?”

Liu Qingge looks around the clearing. It’s void of anything at all. They’re alone.

“If it had a partner we’d see it by now.”

“Yes, Liu-shidi, you must be right.” Shen Qingqiu looks around, too.

His gaze inevitably circles back to Liu Qingge and his eyes turn brigs and mischievous for a moment. Then, he reaches out and his slim fingers graze against Liu Qingge’s hair. When he takes his hand back there’s a rumpled flower in between his fingers.

“My shidi can’t help being beautiful even in the middle of the fight. He even acquired a hairpiece.”

Liu Qingge breaks.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispers, eyes falling close and breathing getting faster. “Please, shixiong, don’t.”

He doesn’t dare look, but he hears a soft, questioning noise.

“Don’t do what, shidi?”

“Don’t call me beautiful.”

“But you are?”

He doesn’t understand. He refuses to see how his words cut Liu Qingge like a knife.

“Just don’t.”

There’s silence. Then:

“Shidi. Won’t you look at me?”

Liu Qingge can do little else. He opens his eyes.

“Shidi is beautiful. He is strong, too, and brave. He is a good friend. He makes my days brighter.”

Liu Qingge lets out a thin whine and can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about it.

“This master won’t stop saying truthful things, even if he risks to make shidi feel embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed.” Liu Qingge swallows.

“Then what is it?”

He wants to tell him. He wants to tell him so much, but he’s weak and terrified, and-

“You’re smart.” Liu Qingge says. “Figure it out.”

[old-knightsvow]

muppet cast for a succession adaptation....

[lotus-pear]

do you ever think about the tragic fact that odasaku's dying words to dazai were to become a good man, to be on the side that saves people.....which leads to the creation of the beast universe as dazai, in his grief and denial, finds the book and alters reality with the mentality "then....that means saving you too, right?"

[xhanisai]

What if after episode Chat Blanc, Adrien would always get dreams about him? Every night, Chat Blanc would tell him about all the chaos and destruction Adrien would cause in the future and that it is inevitable.

Adrien wakes up every morning without fail and the memories of the dreams would be fuzzy. But there's one line that he will never forget.

"Our love destroyed the world."

So he starts to distance himself from everyone, especially Ladybug because his fears are growing bigger and bigger. He thought loneliness was what he feared the most but turns out, hurting the people he loves is even scarier.

He wants to hold Ladybug's hand as they patrol? Chat Blanc is in his reflection, staring at him with an icy glare and slowly shaking his head. So he brings his hand back to himself and plasters on a smile as Ladybug talks.

He wants to tell Nino this funny story he heard during his photoshoot? Chat Blanc is in Nino's shadow, silent and still. Adrien keeps quiet in the distance as Nino is laughing with the boys.

He wants to dance with Marinette at the party? Chat Blanc has a hand caressing the side of her neck, claws dangerously close to her throat whilst staring at him wide-eyed. Adrien bites his lip and lingers in the crowd as she dances away with Alya.

He wants to see his father? He's flashed with a memory of everyone petrified under the ocean.

He's so, so, so lonely...

But everyone's lives matter more than his own wishes.

Right?