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itsabouttimex2 · 2 months

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Saccharine Snacks

Platonic Yandere Sun Wukong Drabble

Something feels different about today. Not necessarily wrong… just a little off. Just a few seconds after you wake up, the feeling sinks in. Nothing is inherently off-putting or uncomfortable, but that gnawing pang persists. The air feels strangely thick, like it’s trying to restrict your movement. The brightness of the sun that streams in from the window feels almost artificial.

But nothing is different. Everywhere you look, and everywhere you check… it’s all the exact same as it’s always been. It almost feels like a challenge, your brain racing to find the reason for this feeling, searching for the smallest difference, some minute variation in your room that would justify the strange feeling plaguing you. Predictably, you turn up nothing.

There’s no new additions, nothing taken away without your notice.

Maybe you really are just being paranoid. Maybe the air is just off. Maybe it was something as simple as a bad dream throwing you off. Whatever it it, you can’t quite shake the feeling. Not even as you get dressed, grab your staff, and head out to meet your mentor to get started with your training.

As always, he greets you with a cheeky smile, waving you into the kitchen.

“It’s not often that I see you in here,” you very casually point out. Once, it had been a little strange to speak so openly to someone so revered and powerful. But it had been by his own request that you spoke to him as an equal and friend rather than a mentor. There was no need to be so serious, after all.

“Except when we’re training. Then you really do need to take me seriously, bud,” he had told you. “Cause what I’m teaching can be just a smidge… dangerous, you know? Don’t worry, don’t worry! Nothing that’ll kill a little mortal like you, I swear!”

Even his reassurances can be goofy and heartening, with the way he acts. Just another thing you’d gotten used to. He gestures for you to come into the kitchen, waving you to the chair across from him.

“Well, I wanted to try and make something special today! I was in a kinda… ‘cooking mood’, y’know?” He looks up at you, holding a knife awkwardly as he unevenly slices cores cherries into disks.

“That doesn’t look like cooking to me,” you lightheartedly point out. “And your knifework could use some practice.”

“Yeah? So could your staff-work,” he teases back, dumping the segmented cherries into a large bowl. He grabs a handful of strawberries and moves them to his cutting board, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you, only half-focused on his task. “And what would you call it, huh? Baking? Broiling? Grilling? C’mon, bud-“

“Preparing,” you somewhat smugly interrupt. “I’d call it preparing a salad.”

He chuckles at your semi-confident tone before sliding you a cutting board and knife.

“If you’ve got time to sass me, then you’ve got time to help me, bud. Take two of those peaches from the sack over there and slice ‘em up.”

The fruit is soft and plump, fitting snugly in the palm of your hand. With two in tow, you return to the cutting board and slice them lengthways, splitting them in half and prying out the pits.

“Those are good peaches,” he explains unprompted. “Took me a while to get ‘em, actually. So I wanted to share with you.”

Sun Wukong is a good friend. He likes to dote on you when he gets the chance, and always works his hardest to keep you in good mood. He’s taught you a lot about martial arts, and never seems to get impatient with your progress, even when you find it nearly impossible to keep up with him.

Sun Wukong is a good friend.

So you trust him without hesitation when he snatches up a chunk of peach and lifts it to your lips- he shares his food with you all the time. This is nothing new for either of you.

The peach is soft all the way through, fuzzy pink skin unblemished by marks or spots. The white flesh is perfectly saccharine.

“It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” you say with a smile.

Your friend doesn’t answer. He’s too busy smiling. It’ll take you a while to figure out why, but there’s no need to worry.

You’ve got all the time in the world, now.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Mentor

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dominimoonbeam · 6 months

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Don't Make It Weird

A Vincent & Porter fic!

Don't Make It Weird

Vincent froze, staring at the scene ahead of him.

Blood and violence perfumed the air. Vincent might not even have stopped if he hadn’t sensed a familiar core in the mix. It was almost smothered under the other two. They were old blood, closer to the source, closer to something like William, but they weren’t quite that close to the original. Their cores were strong, but not that strong.

“Porter…”

He grunted in reply, the sound wheezing out of him when the vampire over him pressed their boot down harder against his chest, cracking things inside of him. Still, he rolled his head to the side to look at Vincent in response to his call.

“Is this…” He curled his lip. He had heard that Porter had…proclivities? Although what he had heard was mild compared to this scene.

Porter winced and tried to shove the leg off his chest, he managed it, ribs snapping and back scraping against the pavement to squirm out from under, but he couldn’t get to his feet even with vampiric speed before the second was on him. They grabbed his hair and twisted his head back, fingers at his throat and their weight against his back keeping him on his knees.

Vincent shook his head, closing in and snarling. No. Whatever the fuck this was, No. “Get your hands off of him.”

The one that had previously had him under their boot slid into the space between Porter and Vincent, baring bloody teeth in a mock smile. His jacket was ripped and his own blood spilled from a fight. Porter hadn’t gone down easily. He wouldn’t, if this wasn’t a game.

“This isn’t about you, Solaire,” the vampire in his way pressed out the words, breathy with excitement… or maybe with frustration. “This traitor owes a debt…”

Vincent glared back at the stranger. “If you know who I am… Then you know he’s ours.” Vincent took another step forward, right into the other vampire’s space. “So, get your hands off of him…or lose your hands.”

Porter gargled something that sounded like a choked laugh.

Vincent leaned to the side to look around the vampire and down at Porter. He still had a hand digging into his throat, ribs snapping back into place under a bloody shirt. But he was definitely snickering. “Don’t start…”

Porter’s bloodshot eyes rolled up to look back at Vincent, his smile twitched but he nodded once in a vague apology. He could save all smart-ass responses and critiques until they got home, couldn’t he? Leave it to Porter to want to give him notes on how to threaten people while being rescued…

How often was Porter ever rescued? It was weird to see him in this position and Vincent couldn’t help but remember the times when Porter remarked on Vincent’s luck being made by William—being stronger at birth than other vampires could ever dream of becoming with age.

Another rib healed and Porter jerked, trying to get up and out of that grip. The vampire behind him hissed, kicking to break his leg and squeezed his throat tight enough to choke out any sounds of pain, hard enough to stop any sounds at all.

It was the silence that broke any hesitation in Vincent. How many times had he wished Porter would shut up? How many times had he wished he’d die? But Porter was never silent and Vincent had never really wanted him dead…or at least, not by someone else’s hand. Not like this. Who the fuck were they to kill a Solaire?

He moved faster than them, striking hard enough to break and throwing them one after the other against the nearest wall.

Porter didn’t inhale but he tried to, one hand going to his crushed throat and body tipping forward.

Vincent was on his knees in front of him, somehow making it look more like Porter was just leaning against him than that he was holding him. They did not hold each other. They didn’t even touch unless it was to push or hit. Porter jerked and twitched, trying to breathe and getting nothing.

“Hang on. It’ll heal. Hang on,” Vincent said quietly, just between them, eyeing the other two vampires twisted on the ground. They were still alive, but it would take a while to heal all of that. “I can carry you out of here—”

Porter bared teeth even though he was still suffocating, one hand grabbing hard at Vincent’s arm.

Vincent smirked, suddenly loving the idea of carrying Porter. “Your leg is crushed… I’m not going to sit here all night while that mess heals…”

Porter dragged a raw breath when he could. It sounded painful and his whole body shuddered.

Vincent waited, one arm curling against his back, not quite rubbing but there.

“D-Don’t you fucking dare…” Porter wheezed against his shoulder.

That familiar petty tone was comforting. “Do you want to go firefighter or bridal?”

Porter’s air was still coming in tight and ragged. “Firefighter,” he grumbled.

“Bridal it is,” Vincent moved fast, on his feet with Porter in his arms.

“You childish fuck,” Porter ground out, rubbing his own throat with a bloody hand.

Vincent started walking. “Now who’s the spoiled brat?”

Porter sulked and then finally sighed. “Thanks.”

“…Don’t make it weird.”

“You’re the one that picked me up like this. You already made it weird.”

“I’ll drop you.”

“Do it!”

#redacted solaire clan #vincent & porter #tw: violence #redactedverse #redacted asmr #<3 #dominimoonbeam #vincent solaire #porter solaire #doMINIfic

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hairstevington · 1 year

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Stranger Therapy - part 3!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and Eddie visit Dr. Bauman a third time. While they figure out their feelings for each other, Dr. Bauman attempts to speed up the process. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Discussion of intimacy, PROLONGED EYE CONTACT, talking about sex in a very PG way, sexual tensionnnnn, modern day AU, aged up, Matchmaker Murray.

A/N: Things are heating up folks ;)

Next time, you’re in the hot seat. No fake dreams, I’m talking real shit, okay?

Technically, Steve had never agreed to that, but he knew Eddie wasn’t going to let it go. Besides, Eddie had been extremely vulnerable in their last session, and Steve did feel a slight need to have things balanced.

The thing was, things kind of were balanced, because the dream he’d brought up in therapy with Dr. Murray wasn’t entirely fake.

Steve had never been that great of a liar. He had to come up with something to talk about, and he didn’t have enough time to make up a problem, so he actually had brought real shit into their counseling session. Sure, it devolved into something unrelated to Steve’s real recurring nightmare, but the core of it was intact.

It’s just that - Steve wasn’t used to talking about his feelings. He locked all of it away ever since - ha, nice try!

He knew if he was going to open up to anyone, a therapist would be a great place to start, but the problem was that it wasn’t just Dr. Bauman. It was Eddie too. And Steve liked Eddie - at least, he was pretty sure he did. The only person that really knew what went on in Steve’s head was Robin, for the most part. Even then, there were a lot of things Steve just…never talked about.

Then again, if he didn’t share at the next session, he’d be going directly against what Eddie asked of him. Which really didn’t matter that much, because they didn’t know each other, and because Steve was paying for all this anyway, but for whatever reason Steve couldn’t let this go or go against Eddie’s wishes. Despite everything, he was genuinely excited to go to counseling again.

Steve had been through a lot of wild shit, but this was most definitely the craziest thing he’d ever done.

The last guy Eddie went on a date with turned out to be a serial killer. That’s not even a joke - the man was secretly a literal serial killer. Eddie felt something was off after they went out, so nothing ever came of it. About a month later, Eddie saw the guy on the news.

So, that was weird, and a hell of a story. Couples counseling with Steve was extremely tame by comparison.

Yeah, the concept of going to therapy with a person he didn’t know that well was a little out there, but it certainly didn’t feel as weird as it should have. Steve must have felt the same, and that’s why they both continued to go back.

Who knows? Maybe they were onto something.

Steve: So I have an idea if you’re up for it

Eddie: Pray tell

Steve: We drive together this time?

Eddie: Hmmmm

Steve: Or not, all good either way

Eddie: wow you got anxious about that really fast

Steve: Shut up lol

Eddie: Am I sensing a fear of rejection?

Steve: Dude come ON

Eddie: If only there was someone we could maybe discuss this with

Steve: Asdfghjkl are you done yet?

Eddie: your car or mine ;)

Eddie liked the way he flustered Steve just a little bit, but not enough to throw him off. He felt solid and secure, and he looked out for Eddie without being asked or seeming condescending about it.

Even though the entire thing was unorthodox, it was also kind of perfect. The initial stages of dating were always a chore, anyway - this blew them way past that and into something entirely different.

Eddie pulled up to Steve’s apartment and barely had to wait a minute before Steve came tumbling out. Steve tended to always look good, but the weather was getting warmer, and this time he was wearing short sleeves.

Yeah. His arms were gonna be a problem.

“Hey babe,” Steve teased as he hopped into the passenger’s seat.

“Hey,” Eddie grinned. “You’re especially chipper today.”

“Yeah, well…” Steve ran his hands through his hair, putting his flexed bicep fully into Eddie’s view. He tried not to stare, but…come on. “What?”

“Nothing,” Eddie replied quickly, turning his attention back to the road. “So, how was your week?”

Oh my god, what the hell is this?

Eddie rarely got thrown off by men. Typically, he was the one who did the teasing, and most people found him too intimidating to dish it back. That was the dynamic he was used to, but with Steve -

“My week was good. Yesterday, Robin and I went to this fancy dinner. It’s become a tradition every year on March 27th because the first time we went we lied and said it was our anniversary to get a free dessert. Now it’s been three or four years and we get all kinds of special treatment. They love us.”

“You mean to tell me I’m not the only one you’re pretending to date right now?” Eddie asked, dramatically pretending to be offended.

“Well, yeah, Eddie,” Steve responded. “I’m a pretty hot commodity as a fake boyfriend. I mean, look at me.”

Eddie saw Steve gesturing at himself in his peripheral vision, and very much didn’t need to actually look to know how hot the man was.

“Damn, well it’s a good thing I like a little competition.” They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Eddie spoke again. “How long have you and Robin been friends?”

“God, since I was like, eighteen,” Steve answered. “She went to Hawkins High too, actually. Robin Buckley?”

“No shit!” Eddie exclaimed. Of course he remembered Robin - they were both band geeks. “Never would have thought you two would have been close.”

“Yeah, well a horrible minimum wage job will bond you to someone,” Steve said with a laugh. “If you ever see us together, you’d think we were dating, too. Most people think that.”

“But you’re not dating?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Eddie asked. Steve chuckled lightly.

“Seriously, man? Read between the lines and think about why you and I started talking.” Eddie smirked.

“Got it. I just mean, like, bisexuality exists, so I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“Right, well I am bisexual but Robin only has eyes for women,” Steve explained. “But every partner either of us has ever had always gets jealous or suspicious of us. It’s, like, the first big test of our relationships.”

“Well, personally I’d love to see you two in action,” Eddie said. “If you ever wanted to do something, like other than therapy.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Steve replied. He didn’t say it in a dismissive way, but he also didn’t agree to it, which was weird.

“Does she know about me?” Eddie asked, suddenly curious.

“Yeah, she does,” Steve responded. The cracks in his charisma were starting to show. Interesting. “She doesn’t know we still, uh - she thinks we’re just going out. Like, normally.”

“But we’re not,” Eddie concluded. The only real date they’d had was the coffee, but they’d each paid for their own. It could easily be construed as friendship. For all Eddie knew, he was about to become another Robin. Which wasn’t a horrible thing to be, except now Steve was reaching over the dash to turn the radio up, and Eddie could smell his cologne, and he knew for sure that whatever this was, it sure as hell wasn’t platonic. At least, not for him.

Very, very interesting indeed.

When the boys sat down in Murray’s office for their second official session, he could practically see the pheromones between them. He could have cut the sexual tension with a swift karate chop.

Naturally, he had to mess with them a little bit about it.

“Okay, so today I wanted to bring things back to your initial complaint of not feeling connected and talk about intimacy,” Murray began.

“Intimacy?” Eddie asked. “Like, sex?”

“Intimacy comes in many forms,” Murray reminded them. “Physically and emotionally. For example, some couples find it incredibly intimate to cook together, read to each other, or shower together - once again, in a non-sexual way. Even physical intimacy is on a spectrum. Some couples have sex, some don’t.”

Murray saw both of the boys stare at him as if he was speaking a different language. Evidently, they needed to talk about this whether they were actually dating or not.

“Okay,” Steve finally said.

I wonder if they’ve banged it out, yet.

“We can start with physical intimacy, if you’d prefer. How is your sex life going?” The boys immediately stiffened, their cheeks rosy red, which answered Murray’s question pretty clearly. Huh, not yet. What’s taking them so long? They recovered within moments, then answered the question confidently.

“Good,” Steve answered.

“Top-notch,” Eddie added. They shared a look that Murray assumed the idiots thought he wouldn’t catch. He could read them so easily, the way that Steve was now flattered at the insinuation that Eddie thought he was good in bed, and the way Eddie was so eager to brag about their sex life.

“So, what are some ways you two are emotionally intimate with each other?” That question seemed to stump the boys. Murray had found that a lot of people in their twenties struggled with being emotionally intimate. “Hmm. Would you guys be willing to try something a little different today?”

“Like, what exactly?” Steve wondered.

“An experiment, I suppose. Nothing too scary.”

“Fuck it, sure,” Eddie agreed. He turned to Steve. “You up for it?” Steve looked slightly less enthused by the idea, but nodded.

“Okay,” Murray said, rubbing his hands together. “So, first I’m going to have you stare into each other's eyes for two minutes, and then I’ll ask you both some questions.”

They hesitantly did as told, turning towards each other on the couch and making eye contact. Once again, their chemistry basically jumped off them - the way they were both nervous but tentatively trusting of one another. They’d already built more trust than a lot of couples Murray had worked with who had been together for years.

Any day now, they’ll figure it out. I give it a week, tops.

Eddie had no problem with eye contact. In fact, he was known for using it as a way to intimidate people. He was comfortable with it, so when Murray suggested the eye contact thing, Eddie thought it would be no big deal.

But then, Eddie and Steve turned on the couch to face each other. The stupid thing had a dip in the center that caused both of them to slip forward slightly and knock their knees together. There was a brief moment where Steve reached to stabilize himself on Eddie’s thigh. Eddie was touchy, and it didn’t usually faze him at all.

This time, it did.

As he looked at Steve, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering about what had changed. The first few times they’d met up, Eddie felt perfectly in control. He found Steve attractive and all, and he liked being around the guy, but this time something had shifted. He pondered it for the whole two minutes, and came to the conclusion that Eddie’s vulnerability in the last session and Steve’s ability to calm him down afterwards was what did it.

Dr. Bauman was absolutely onto something with the emotional intimacy thing. This shit was worth every penny. Well, Steve’s pennies, technically.

God, this feels weird.

Steve didn’t care about eye contact, but it wasn’t usually, like, scheduled and moderated. He knew Murray was watching them, studying them, and at this point Steve didn’t know where he ended and the whole relationship charade with Eddie began.

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew what Eddie had been hinting at in the car before with the whole, if you ever want to do anything other than therapy. It’s just that Steve kinda panicked at the thought of it, because it felt like things were moving too fast for them to actually date outside of whatever the hell this was.

Then again, Eddie had very pretty eyes. Most of Steve’s two minutes were spent desperately trying not to look at his lips.

He didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“Time’s up,” Dr. Bauman said. Steve relaxed and immediately broke eye contact to look back at the counselor beside them. “Not so fast - keep looking at each other.”

“Doctor, did you lie to us?” Eddie teased. Steve noticed he had absolutely no issues holding his gaze, but that he somehow sensed Steve’s anxiety. Eddie reached out and laid his hand on Steve’s knee, but it was unclear whether or not that was intentional or just a product of being so close to each other on the couch that forced people together.

“Now I’ll ask you both again. What are some ways you two are emotionally intimate?”

Here. This. I’d rather be naked.

“We, uh - “ Steve thought back to their conversation at the coffee shop and smiled. “We play music together.”

“Very nice,” Dr. Bauman said approvingly. “Eddie, anything to add?”

“I know his coffee order,” Eddie replied. “Does that count?”

“Absolutely,” Dr. Bauman confirmed. “How did this exercise make you feel?”

“Scared.”

The word left Steve’s mouth before he could even think to stop it. Shit. He’s totally going to ask me about that. Steve turned his body back around to face the therapist, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze anymore.

“Let’s dig a little deeper into that fear.” I knew it. Dammit. “Why might you feel so scared?”

Might as well just keep going. We’re already here.

“Because every time I open up to someone I end up - “ Steve sighed. “I lose them. One way or another I lose them, because I’m not good enough, or I'm too much, or there’s someone better, or because of other bullshit I sure as hell don’t want to get into right now. So I don’t really talk about my feelings anymore. But then, not letting people in makes people leave, too.”

“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” Dr. Bauman noted. “Very common. Why do you think this feeling started?”

Steve wondered if it was too late to run out of the office and never look back. He could call Robin, have her pick him up, and never think about this ever again -

“Hey,” Eddie said quietly from beside him. Steve turned to see Eddie's face drained of its usual vibrance, instead replaced with something more empathetic and soft. All of a sudden, it was only the two of them in the room. “You okay?”

Steve wasn’t ready to feel so seen. He shook his head without intentionally doing so.

“I - I can’t,” he whispered. Eddie nodded, then turned back to Dr. Bauman.

“Doc, do you mind if we switch over to something I’ve been thinking about that I want to unpack with you? I have a lot of things actually. I made a list…”

Steve watched as Eddie dug through his pockets and found a literal, paper, list. And normally, Steve would tease someone about that, but with Eddie it was both endearing and completely on brand.

This thing they were doing - whatever it was - it worked.

The rest of the session was far less intense. As time passed, Steve felt the tightness in his chest fade little by little.

The last two times they’d done this, their time together ended when the session did. This time, there was still a whole ride home.

“Thanks for driving,” Steve said once they got inside the van. “I’ll do it next week.”

“So, you still wanna go back?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“Well, yeah. I mean, isn’t that what you want?”

“I - I don’t want you to do it just for me, you know? Like, if you don’t want to do it then that’s okay,” Eddie said. Steve shrugged.

“If we didn’t - if we stopped, I mean. Then what?” Eddie’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and his lack of response caused Steve to continue rambling. “And like, what if the lying combined with us telling the truth is throwing him off, and then we get all messed up in the head or something?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Eddie replied.

“We should just tell him what’s going on.” Once again, Eddie was silent. “That we’re not really in a relationship, I mean.”

“I think you’re completely glossing over a very obvious solution,” Eddie finally said. “Like, we matched for a reason originally, right? I know the first appointment was supposed to be a one-off thing, but then we kept going. Are we still - like, did we scrap the actual dating part of this or is that still going on? Because I mean - like, even if you didn’t want to see Dr. Bauman anymore, I think I’d still wanna - I don’t know, keep seeing you.”

“I wanna keep seeing you too,” Steve agreed. Obviously, he wanted to keep seeing Eddie. “But I also want to keep seeing Dr. Bauman, which complicates things.” As much as he hated therapy, he needed it. That much was clear.

“So, we can’t do both?” Eddie asked.

“We are doing both,” Steve argued.

“You know what I mean.” They were almost to Steve’s, but their conversation felt very unfinished. “Look - I like you. Do you like me?” Yes. Steve couldn’t get himself to say it, for some reason. Yeah, I totally do. If only Eddie was a mind reader. “Got it. Okay, well here’s your stop. I’ll see you next week I guess.”

Eddie put the car in park, and for a fleeting moment, Steve thought about leaving the conversation at that. But he wasn’t going to fall into his old patterns of - what did Dr. Bauman call it? A self-fulfilling prophecy?

“I like you too,” he admitted. “I’ve been trying to only focus on what goes on in the office, but I keep thinking about, uh, things between us. I mean, on the one hand, we get along great, but on the other, we’re in therapy together, and you already know more about my issues than most of my previous partners. So I just, I don’t know. It almost feels weird to consider us dating, because it messes with what we have going on in there, and it seems like we both need the counseling, so…”

“You’ve thought about things, huh?” Steve finally looked back at Eddie to see him stifling a grin.

“Were you even listening to the rest of what I said?”

“Well, I wanted to, but I was too busy thinking about things, too.” Steve felt some type of way at the confession of mutual attraction.

“You - you were?” Eddie nodded aggressively, and Steve tried not to think about the things Eddie could possibly have been thinking about. “Okay, well if you’d been listening, you would know why us doing anything might be a bad idea. If it ends badly between us -”

“Good thing we have a couple’s counselor, right?”

God dammit. Eddie had a hell of an argument, and Steve was all out of excuses. He took a deep breath.

“Wanna come in?”

(next chapter)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@escapingthereality @imfinereallyy @raisedbylibrarians @samthemissfit @chaoticvictorianspirit @elizbaehth @despoenaandpyromania @cr0w-culture @bagofgreentea @f1ct1onwh0re @novelnovella @thing-a-ling @bisexualdisastersworld @practicallybegging @soldiers00 @beckkthewreck @fandomz-brainrot @shrimply-a-menace @justanothergirlwithobsessions @freshflowers-and-dryingherbs @satan-is-obsessed @best-selling-show @micheledawn1975 @smolalien13 @sundead @rosered93

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingscatworld @thefruityfours @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @steviesbicrisis @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger therapy #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x steve harrington #st fanfic #writing

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xerith-42 · 3 months

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I humbly beg for more shadow knight angst for the thousands time my liege.

C'mon guys, this is getting ridiculous there's no way I can write even more angst around this small handful of characters I've already given an unholy amount of attention to...

WHICH IS WHY I'M GIVING IT TO OTHER CHARACTERS NOW

We talk about Shadow Knight angst as it pertains to the knights themselves, who live a horrific cursed existence where they are doomed by the plot before they're even in it, but what about those around them? Those who bare witness to the ugliest parts of being human that being inhuman can reveal. Those who have to lose their loved ones only to find that their loved one isn't truly dead, and that's somehow worse. Lords start becoming paranoid, borderline irrational every time a guard dies, not because they are grieving the death of someone they may have cared about, but because they know what comes next.

Obviously the general public didn't understand Shadow Knights when they first came about, but those who did? Imagine being Aph and trying to sleep at night knowing that one of your closest companions is one bad day away from potentially killing you in your sleep. She's constantly trying to protect Phoenix Drop from oncoming threats, but in the back of her mind she's always paranoid about Zenix. What if he just came back right now and tried to hurt her people again? What if he tried to take Levin again? Would she be able to hold herself in a fight against someone who's literally immortal? But if she fails... She can't entertain the thought. She has to shove down all these worried and put her faith in her guards.

Her guards. Who if they sacrificed themselves for her, like they're so fond of doing, could only create more problems for her. Her guards who would throw their lives away to protect her and her family, and yet could be dooming her in the process. It's a horrible contradiction of values. She values her life and her families lives most. Her and her kids and the small assortment of other caregivers for them are the most important things in the world, what she has to protect. But if any of her guards or worse, herself, were to fall in battle, it would only spell more death and destruction. She wasn't ever even meant to be a lord, never trained to be one like those who were heirs, and now there's an entirely new unpredictable and incredibly dangerous variable thrown in.

It makes her incredibly restless. The bags under her eyes are barely hidden by any markings on her face.

And if you're a guard? Especially one who's prone to self sacrifice like, oh I'm just throwing out ideas here, GARROTH! Hoo boy. Garroth is petrified at the thought that he could become a Shadow Knight. He isn't there for a lot of Laurance's descent, but he spoke to Laurance quite a bit when he came back from the Nether, and spent a lot of season 1 at his side after the fact. He doesn't know the full extent of how bad it is, but he knows how the calling torments Laurance, and he admires Laurance's ability to fight against it.

Because he isn't sure if he'd be able to. Garroth has known for basically his entire life that it is the job of a guard to be ready to throw their life away for their lord. It's a core part of his understanding of his purpose in the world. But now there's a wrench thrown into it. If he does as he has prepared himself to do since he was a teenager, he might do worse. Laurance can fight off the calling, but Garroth doesn't think he would be able to. He can't even dream of hurting his lord, and yet he deeply fears his inability to fight supernatural urges that he doesn't even have. Yet. It only takes one bad fight.

Hey guys, remember when Cadenza was almost killed by her mother figure?? In episode 26 we get this line

And if I'm not mistaken (I just went and watched the episode, I'm not) this woman tries to KILL CADENZA!! Glenda (as she's later named) attempts to drain the magic from Cadenza/use her as a sacrifice to open up a portal to the Nether in episode 86. Even though she once considered Cadenza to be her daughter.

And this is all while Cadenza at least initially thinks her father is dead. So her father is dead and her only remaining family are shadow knights that are prone to killing her. Awesome! So cool! Great and excellent! I hope this won't have any severe psychological impacts on her!! (it does but Jesson didn't ever give it to us so I guess I have to do it now)

Cadenza has had enough talks with Laurance and Vincent to know that the Shadow Knight's existence is a far greater struggle than anyone realizes. She empathizes with them, and yet she is utterly terrified of them. She knows that Laurance and Vincent are good people, but it doesn't matter how good of a person you are. Once the calling is put in your head you can become completely different. Whether you're in control or not. She loves her brother, and she loves her head guard, but she knows that Laurance is far from perfect. She knows that the Shadow Lord could do anything to push him one direction or the other. She knows he's interested in her magic. She fears that another family member will try to take it from her, or worse.

She'll never admit it, but she felt safer during some of those 15 years Laurance was gone. When he and everyone else first disappeared, grief, despair, and panic swirled in her head for nearly a year. She worried about where they had gone, what had happened, and worst of all, she worried when they would come back. What they would be like. She fears that they went to the Nether. That Laurance may have succumb to the calling. That he's just waiting for the right moment to strike. But then years pass. Nothing. Her father dies a peaceful death with a smile on his face. Still nothing.

After a certain point Cadenza knew that they weren't dead, but that whatever adventure they had gotten themselves dragged into was taking a lot longer than usual. Suddenly she's not as worried. She doesn't know where Laurance is, but he isn't here right now, and therefore is one less thing she has to worry about. It's... Nice. Also Cadenza and Laurance totally have that sibling "I would know if you died" esp, despite not being related. That's how you know you're real siblings. She always knew they weren't dead because she remembers how it felt the day Laurance died in the Nether. Even if she was a chicken.

Feels like a better place than any to leave off an angst post. Though I will probably be thinking of more of these, Shadow Knights and how they effect the world and characters is easily the most interesting thing Minecraft Diaries has, it's no wonder we all latched onto it.

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rawmeknockout · 1 year

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Optimus getting to experience having a genuine relationship with someone who doesn’t see him as some untouchable idol but as an actually person

The first thing Optimus notices about you is how tense and guarded you are. The burning remains of your city frame you on either side, showing the wear on your armor and casting your face in dark shadows. He has to admit, this is a feeling he's not used to. Most mechs he meets are tense, yes, but it's usually because they see him as some sort of living extension of Primus. You have a roughness about you, your face set into a firm glower and optics shifting between him and his first officers. Though you are small, it's no wonder to Optimus how you've been able to fight off Decepticons on your own for so long.

You have a coldness about you that reminds him of Megatron in a way.

He knows before you even verbally rebuff his offer to join the Autobots that winning you over will be a trial. You're reluctant to leave your city, even if all that's left will smolder for weeks and coat the sky in inky smoke. But the Autobots need as many strong soldiers as they can get, and Optimus won't give up on having you join his side.

Your city still burns in his dreams, still throws light across your scuffed and dented armor, highlights the strong planes of your cheeks and the firm edge of your frowning lips. Optimus wakes on the Ark, in his room, and he's aching for something he shouldn't. The Matrix burns steady in his spark chamber, but something else has taken up residence there, too. Something persistent and sinking. His chest has never felt so full.

It's almost as painful to put a name to his feelings, to think that he would feel something affectionate for you, because Optimus can't ever see you reciprocating. How ironic. The one person he admires and holds above all others, someone even a Prime reveres, doesn't look at him with anything akin to fondness. It makes him yearn for you all the more. You see right down to his very core, cold optics picking him apart, and Optimus has never wanted to hide away and bare himself more than when you're looking at him. Cold, observant optics wide and unflinching.

Love is quite painful. Optimus knows this better than most. Having Megatron turn on him was a betrayal he never wanted to experience again, and yet he's fallen for someone who simply sees him as an opportunity for revenge. You have always been agonizingly honest.

He could never truly hope to have you; it's a fool's errand. But despite your rough disposition, Optimus can see you trying: looking to fit in among the Autobots even when you feel painfully out of place. While the Autobots are noble, willing to help each other no matter the cost, you hold no such self-sacrificing ideals. You would throw everything, everyone, on the line to kill Decepticons. Optimus loathes that sort of thinking in other mechs, but he can't help admiring such steadfast determination in you.

Sometimes he can catch you sitting alone on the rocky, red terrain of Earth at night, hiding away from the complications of living among other mechs. That is when you are most receptive of his attention, you let Optimus gaze upon you as the moon throws it's light across your now shining armor. It's soft touch shows him all the subtleties of your faceplate he never gets to fully appreciate in a room of other mechs. If he looked hard enough he could probably still see the scars of welds long since healed, could smell the acrid stench of burnt protoform clinging to you. Optimus pushes those memories down to see you for who you are. Scared, wounded, and alone, but determined. Your strength is reliable, but your companionship is fleeting.

You pretend not to notice the way Optimus' optics bore into you. He's the last person you ever wanted to love, but the spark will hardly ever take no for an answer.

#txt #asks #reader insert #reader imagine #transformers #transformers g1 #transformers generation 1 #tf g1 #g1 optimus prime #tf optimus prime #tf optimus #g1 optimus #optimus prime #optimus

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snappydragonsclaw · 7 months

Text

Skylanders academy episodes that could of got alternate endings

Skylanders unite!: kaos could of won.

Dream girls: dream catcher could of never had been caught,stealth elf could of went to sleep too early on in the episode,it could of been another cadet,dream catcher could of turned the entire academy against stealth elf.

The hole truth: the doom raider's could of never escaped.

Space invaders: stealth elf could of actually died,it could of been someone else who got stuck in kaos's head.

Pop rocks:wolfgang could of won, glumshanks could of revealed Wolfgang's plan to food fight and trigger happy by either accident or on purpose which would of lead them to tell the core team,pop fizz could of been the evil one instead of wolfgang,pop fizz and wolf gang never parted ways.

Beard science: eon could of never found his beard.

The skylands are falling!: everyone could of died.

Assault on skylander academy:kaos choose his Mom's side and never went with the doom raiders,the doom raiders,kaos and kaossandra never gotten into the academy.

Spyromania: Spyro could of died aka no invincible scales,Spyro could of never questioned his abilities,Spyro could of had super speed aka dodged all of food fight's tomatoes or just any other type of ability for that matter.

I dream of ninjini: ninjini could of been stuck in her bottle.

Return to cynder: cynder could of got corrupted, the skylanders never offended cynder.

Elementary,my dear eruptor: eruptor could of died(I'm starting to see a pattern here)

Split decision: hex could of took over the academy,skull never got rid of his magical bond with hex,hex forgot to hug a cadet like wind up or food fight possiblely and they did something that changed the ending like telling master eon earlier.

The people vs.pop fizz: pop fizz could of stayed in cloud cracker prison.

Belly of the beast: they all could of died. Food fight could of died by the cadets having to use him to make the fire viper throw up due to the fire viper being a carnivore and food fight being well an ardichoke meaning that they sacrificed him(man I think that's the darkest alternate ending I came up with),food fight and wind up being the only survivers(they was in a place where they were safe once the fire viper woke up and food fight could of made the fire viper throw up by tossing enough tomatoes.king pen never got kidnapped.

Sheep-ball dreams: dream catcher was catched by stealth elf before she hit the ground meaning she never snapped out of her amnesia and lived happily ever after with the skylanders and cadets(I wished that happened even a little bit). Dream catcher was faking the whole thing.

Touch of evil: Spyro never turned into dark Spyro,cynder never went after Spyro,cynder never got captured and made it back to the academy with the core team.

Power struggle: kaossandra ditched the skylanders.

A traiter among us(oh God please no): eruptor never had a grudge against kaossandra and therefore never needed to get captured by trolls.

In like flynn: the skylanders could of been trapped forever.pop fizz could of got sacrificed.(why is acadmey so extreme?)

Road rage: kaossandra could of killed stealth elf. Stealth elf wore the cursed bracelet instead. Stealth elf gave the cursed bracelet to either eruptor,dark Spyro or even possiblely food fight?(though that last person is very unlikely yet here we are and it would change the episode very much.)

Weekend at eon's(can we just put in f in the chat for poor food fight not really even appearing in the episode where he should of at least got a line): FOOD FIGHT ACTUALLY PLAY A PART IN THE STORY-no really im serious that would actually change a whole lot of things,food fight never missed,food fight killed master eon rather by accident or possibly *evil smirk* on purpose.

Three sides to every story: master eon actually did get zapped.

Days of future crash: glumshanks won,dark Spyro encountered the alternate versions of the cadets that may or may not have been driven crazy by that timeline's events.

Off to the races: dark Spyro killed stealth elf,dark Spyro never got caught.

Split: Hugo never came to rescue the skylanders.

The final to skylanders academy as a whole.

#skylanders #skylanders academy #help why do i now want a skylanders version of that marvel tv show what if?!

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yellowmagicalgirl · 1 year

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⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm gonna go with my fic Could You Ever Stop My Fall, and since there's three stars I'll do three different specific bits of commentary.

The title is twofold a question with different meanings. Douxie is asking Krel if Krel would be able to prevent Douxie from falling (read: dying) again. This is the original question of the fic, which is why I started out by describing Douxie feeling like he's falling as he wakes. Krel answers this in turn: if he merges with Gaylen's core, then yes, he can keep Douxie from being hurt. And the meaning of the title changes so that Krel can ask his question, if Douxie would be can stop Krel's metaphorical fall. The answer is much less clear, since distance from the core isn't helping at all.

Krel turns to him, smiling. Normally Douxie adores Krel’s smiles, but not this one. It is a smile Douxie has never seen on Krel’s face, cruel and unhinged. His eyes are wide, and the way they reflect the light of the city below makes them glow like two distant explosions. “Oh, Douxie. If only they were nightmares. But they’re so much more. I could be so much more.” He gestures wildly, and Douxie takes a step back. “And the dreams show me how. I’ve tried, even. I don’t sleep in my lab, but I’ve tried to walk to it in my sleep. The core, it calls to me in my dreams and oh, how I try to answer. But even if the Blanks don’t stop me, I’ve always had something to startle me awake before I can reach it.”

Douxie swallows. He knows what Krel is saying but he wants it not to be true. “Stop you from what?”

“From merging with it!” Krel takes a step towards Douxie. “From integrating Gaylen’s core with my own. I’m not good at fighting as I am now. If anyone gets knocked out in a fight I’m in, it’s me. I know I’m a liability. But if I merged with the core? I would be powerful – beyond powerful. I would be a god!”

“Krel, you’re scaring me.” Krel cups Douxie’s cheek, and despite his fear, Douxie leans into the touch.

“Bellroc and Skrael can control fire and ice, but I could crush the stars. I could kill them. I could make them feel all the pain they’ve ever inflicted on you, make them regret ever looking at you before I destroy them. I could keep them from ever hurting you again.” Krel throws his arms around Douxie, and his shoulders soon begin to shake. Douxie is scared that Krel is laughing until he feels his shirt begin to dampen. Oh. No matter how scared Douxie is, Krel’s fear is so much more intense.

I'm pretty sure I was listening to "Red Signal" and "Ragnarok II: The Calling" by The Mechanisms while I wrote this. (And for that matter, probably "Ragnarok I: Runaway" as well because it's between those two songs on the album.) I wanted to capture the vibe of someone who had been enthralled and corrupted by something eldritch. Lovecraftian madness, if you will, hence my "mild horror vibes" tag. Krel knows he's being enthralled, and he's scared of it despite his raving.

Krel throws his arms around Douxie, and his shoulders soon begin to shake. Douxie is scared that Krel is laughing until he feels his shirt begin to dampen. Oh. No matter how scared Douxie is, Krel’s fear is so much more intense. Wordlessly, Douxie lifts a hand to stroke through the waves of Krel’s hair. “But I don’t think I’d be me anymore. The way I’ve seen myself merging with it, I have to stab through my own core with Gaylen’s. I know that if I were to merge with the core, I’d become something else. Something that shouldn’t be allowed to live. How could I withstand a deity’s urge to destroy? I could kill Bellroc and Skrael, but what then?

“What would I destroy next? My parents gave their lives to defeat Morando; which of my relatives will die to defeat me? It’ll kill Aja. Maybe she’ll power the cannon herself, or maybe she’ll order two of our relatives to their deaths but killing me will kill her. And yet?

“And yet I still want to do it. Douxie, something’s wrong with me. Something’s very wrong with me.”

This part was partially inspired by a different cosmic horror work by Jonny Sims, specifically the ending to MAG 160: "They Eye Opens". The combination of laughing and sobbing by someone who is being manipulated by a cosmic power was gripping my mind as I wrote this, even if Krel and John are in very different positions in this point in the fic and that point in TMA.

Fanfic Writers: Director’s Cut

#krexie #krel tarron #hisirdoux casperan #gaylen!krel #gaylen's core #tales of arcadia #3below #toawizards #answered ask #rockymaidenvixen #my writing

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elvenbeard · 1 year

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🌼🎀💑👰‍♀️ for Vince!!

Thanks so much for asking!! :D

🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding?

This is something he admittedly never gave much thought (getting married one day was never high on his list of priorities or goals in life to begin with).

If it ever came to it though, I think he'd be more the "go big or go home" kind of person, although keep the amount of guests limited to close friends and family. A wedding is usually a one-time occasion that ideally doesn't come around again anytime soon. He'd love all his friends to be there, have a unique and cool location closed for the event and just for them, and just throw a big loud party xD

🎀 Who would my muse sleep with if nobody ever had to know?

Hands down... Yorinobu Arasaka. Just to see what all the fuss is about XD

💑 What are my muse’s requirements for a potential partner?

Honesty is high on top of the list. They don't need to tell him their tragic backstory in all details on the first date, he wouldn't either. But honesty about expectations and such is absolute key. You're only interested in this being a one-time thing? Good, fine with him, let's skip the smalltalk and get down to business. You're looking for something serious? Okay, sounds good, too, let's see how it develops! But wanting one thing and pretending it's the other to manipulate his feelings in some way, try to have your way with him? He will notice, and you'll never see him again afterwards.

Respect for boundaries kinda ties into that a bit but is also important on its own. He doesn't mind clinginess, even finds it kind of adorable occasionally. But he is iffy about some things, on some days more than others (personal space, needing quiet/alone time, etc) and when people can't respect these things and keep being invasive after being told "no" that is also a big red flag to him.

Those are really the two most important core things to him. He's astoundingly not that high maintenance when it comes to relationships, and also a bit of a people pleaser when he likes someone. Deep down he just wants someone he feels safe around, who will accept him as he is (and god knows he's not easy to deal with sometimes). Someone to do fun and exciting things with, be silly with, someone interesting whom he will not run out of topics to talk about with. If they're hot, that's just a neat bonus (although he'd prefer someone who takes care of themselves and puts at least a sliver of effort into their appearance - cause so does he).

👰 Would my muse ever get married?

As mentioned above, it was never high on his list of priorities or a goal, or just generally something he'd see himself doing. He thinks the concept is kinda outdated, and all around him there's people who led awful, painful, or toxic marriages. It started with his own parents, then he heard about Jackie's parents, Joss's relationship with her ex, Kerry's relationship with his ex (and even the seemingly so perfect Peralez couple if you look closely at the end of "Dream On"...). Not that marriage is the root cause of all these people's problems, but Vince would feel like defining a relationship only as "official" if you get married puts a lot of strain on you and your partner before and afterwards alike and can worsen already existing issues.

So, yes... he has strong feelings and opinions about this, to put it lightly xD All that being said though... if someone asked him if he wanted to marry him, be it for the very romantic reason of tax benefits, or because Vince doesn't care much for his last name anyway and it would be an excuse to change it... he'd still have to think about it real hard, but he wouldn't say 'no' outright.

#cyberpunk 2077 #ask games #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions

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flamingwell · 1 year

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I posted 4,126 times in 2022

That's 2,538 more posts than 2021!

22 posts created (1%)

4,104 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@deadhawke

@roseverdict

@whetstonefires

@soresus

@tk-duveraun

I tagged 1,151 of my posts in 2022

#guardian - 328 posts

#shen wei - 234 posts

#cql - 140 posts

#zyl - 139 posts

#puppies!!! - 135 posts

#weilan - 122 posts

#fanart - 82 posts

#wwx - 81 posts

#jiang cheng - 79 posts

#mdzs - 64 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#but tell me what other reason wwx would have for inventing a way to sacrifice yourself body and soul to bring someone back from the dead

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

Do you think Meng Shi *really* didn't realize that Jin Guangshan would never accept her son? Do you think she didn't know, deep in her heart? An intelligent woman like her (with a brilliant son like here, how could she not be), don't you think she understood as the years went by and there was no word from Lanling? As time went on and the cruelty of the Madam bit, but not as painfully as her dwindling dreams? As time went on and "surely he'll return next week, next month, to claim us" became "perhaps next year", as all the funds she could scrounge went to pay for cultivation manuals while she went hungry in a cold room and no gold clad figure came to call? As she saw other hopeful girls scorned by those who claimed to love them? As the chance of making those dreams real faded, would she maybe have clung to them all the harder? As she looked at her son, her beloved boy, and clung to the only thing she thought she had of value to give him—her dream of a father's love for him, a place of honor, a life of luxury. She must have known, deep down, that it was only a dream. But it had kept her going in a world that was too cruel, and so it was her dearest possession and she wanted to give her son what she valued most. She didn't realize that her own love was the thing her son found most valuable, because the world has taught her that she was worthless. So she gave him her love, but she also gave him a poison dream, always thinking (hoping, wishing) that she'd given him the only the best.

41 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

I'm just imagining Wei Wuxian in the a Demon Slaughtering Cave in those three months after Nightless City, mostly out of his mind with grief and guilt and resentful energy, absolutely *desperate* to find some way, ANY WAY to fix this. He would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it would bring Shij—Jiang Yanli back.

And so he does. He's a genius, and he's bending all his will to this, and he *does it*. He invents a way that he could sacrifice himself, body and soul, in order to bring her back to life. But....

But .

She would come back to *this*. She would come back *as him*, trapped in the Burial Mounds with no core and the entire cultivation world howling for her blood, living in the body of the man who murdered her husband.

He can't do it to her. Being dead would be better for her than that.

So he rages and screams and cries and he flips the table and throws his notes across the cave, but he doesn't use it. And the Sacrifice Summons waits for another desperate boy years later....

95 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

Do you ever think about how ZYL must have missed his Shen Wei when he was in the past—Professor Shen, with his short hair and sleeve garters, with his eyes full of secrets and grief—even while sitting next to the Shen Wei of the past?

Do you ever think that after he'd returned to his time, ZYL must have missed his Xiao Wei—with his long braids, eyes open and unguarded even as his hand was never far from a weapon—even while sitting next to the Shen Wei that he met first?

Do you ever think about that?

134 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

I adore the Zhao Yunlan & Da Qing relationship. We both have "Da Qing basically raised Zhao Yunlan" and "Da Qing is basically Zhao Yunlan’s younger brother/son figure” and neither of these contradicts the other in any way

In conclusion, Da Qing is Zhao Yunlan’s son but also his dad but also his younger brother, hope that helps clear everything up

144 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So I'm a Goncharov newbie (I know, I know, I can't believe I missed out on this gem for so long either!), and of course I know there has probably been a ton of ink spilled on this already, but one thing that's just blowing my mind is that this film even got MADE in the middle of the Cold War!! I mean, you have a Soviet protagonist whose story and character are explored in such depth and with such empathy. Not only that, but he has complex and not-entirely-antagonistic relationships with characters from the other side of the Iron Curtain (Andrey is the one everyone's talking about of course, but I think his relationship with Sofia has so much unexplored depth—that Look on both their faces right before he closes the door and they both know that he's closing it on any nascent friendship they might have had? UGH, it just kills me!!). And this came out in the middle of the Cold War?? I know it's an absolute CLASSIC today (and with good reason, holy shit, the complexity of the storyline and the tension and sadness that just scream from the screen in every shot!), but can any Tumblr history buffs tell me what the reception was at the time?

430 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #my stuff

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mrschwartz · 2 years

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things i loved

jonathan knowing about will being gay and letting him know that he loves his brother unconditionally. that whole scene was fantastic, they both brought in their A acting game. i love that it was never stated explicitly, but they both knew what the other was talking about. Very realistic

eleven not accepting brenner's bullshit "apology" and leaving him to die

lucas beating the shit out of jason and the rift splitting the motherfucker in half. that came out of Nowhere, i audibly gasped and i Loved it

murray frying the fuck out of the demogorgons. i'm obsessed with how that was the catalyst that weakened vecna and allowed them to fight back. narrative payoffs baby!

speaking of fire, steve and robin throwing the molotov cocktails!! very badass. nancy shooting him too, but i thought the one in s3 was even better, so

the real genuine scare of max's bones breaking and the fact that she didn't end up 100% fine in the end. some plot armors apparently can be made of glass and i'm here for it

we're Getting our protagonist!will storyline back in s5 ladies!! we win

eddie playing master of puppets fuck yeah dude

my favorite line from a show from here on out: "i piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer"

some of the best acting i've ever seen! shout outs: millie doing eleven's piggyback thing and while vecna was talking to her; noah forever and always, everything he does all the time; sadie and caleb while max was dying; joe quinn and gaten while eddie was dying, and gaten while he was talking to eddie's uncle

things i hated

their overdone trend of introducing loveable new characters just to kill them off as a way to protect the protagonists. eddie was so good, they're so lazy for not keeping him and trying to figure out a way to resolve his being wanted for the murders

I'm Not Here ‼🚫🚫 for stancy. this is a stancy hater zone, i hate everyone involved in this show for reviving it. 1) i don't care for jancy, so i refuse to accept they made me sit through a part of this show i don't care about just for it to be unmade. 2) technically the best for nancy is some time single. 3) that is Such a peewee weakass """resolve""" for steve's character. let him move on ffs, there was a very satisfying way his arc could be heading (was heading!!) and this is not it. he's one of the best parts of the show and it's definitely not because of his relationship with nancy, it's because of his chemistry with the kids, with robin, and his want/need to be protective of them. it's fine that he dreams of having a family but him telling that to nancy and saying she's the one was sooooo ooc. ew

the pacing was 😐 questionable. some strange cuts while some scenes lingered on foreverrrr. i def 1.5x-ed a lot of that shit

i've always been team "will likes mike who knows but doesn't reciprocate" so with that in mind mike's characterization this season doesn't make any sense. why was he weird about will? wasn't will his first and best friend in the world? soooo weird that mike lives and breathes for eleven now and has forgotten how much he and will meant to each other, romantic feelings or not

speaking of eleven, i was really hoping that the strength she would find to fight back would come from within herself, since her arc was building up towards her finding herself, and not from mike saying how she's his superhero

back to the cali gang, i saw someone say how everything they did this season was give pep talks and that's so true. jonathan > will > mike > eleven. such a waste of once the core of the show

+ the very 🤨 moment of will's feelings for mike (in the way will verbalized them to him) being used for mike to verbalize his feelings to eleven was very sus. an embarrasing lack of tact by the writers there

#stranger things #st4 spoilers

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prettylightsbigcity · 2 years

Text

Yours, Always

TW: MCD, cancer, suicide

Losing someone you love feels impossible. In the days after his death, Baz writes a love letter to Simon.

I recently lost someone close to me, and I wrote this pretty soon after they passed. I debated whether or not this was something that I wanted or needed to share, but after sitting with it for some time, I decided to throw it out into the universe. Please read the tags and trigger warnings, and don't read this if you're not in a place to think about the things mentioned. I'm listing some resources below; take care of yourself, friends. Read below, or here on ao3.

***

Dear Simon,

I think I’m disappearing right in front of my own eyes. Most days I get up, go through the motions, speak to people without hearing them, eat without tasting; I am moving through the world like a ghost. I’m a watery impression of myself. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so numb. Do you know what kept me alive in the darkest seasons of my life, Snow? When I first realized what I was, that I would never be the boy my mother had loved again? When the days all bled together into one endless smear of suffering trapped inside a coffin? Do you know what kept me alive? It was you. The knowledge that you existed, somewhere in the world, before you ever spoke to me kindly, before I even dared to hope that you could care for me the way I care for you. Just knowing that you were out there, Simon Snow, gave me a reason to carry on living. Loving you has been at the core of me since before I even understood what I was feeling. Being loved by you has been the greatest honor of my life. We have fought for each other over and over again, and we’ve always won.

But what was the point of it all? The agony and struggle we both endured— not to mention what we put everyone else through— to get here? Everything you did for our world, the trauma and torment and heartache inflicted on you, not just by The Mage (curse his wretched soul), but all of magickal society with the expectations they placed on your shoulders when you were only a child. The Greatest Mage. The Power of Powers. The Chosen One. I know you thought it was all a load of rubbish, but I believed it. I still do. I believe in you, Simon. And after all that, there was nothing any of us could do. I sat in Dr. Wellbelove's office right next to you while he said horrifying things that didn’t make any sense, words like “glioblastoma” and “metastatic” and “terminal” and— and “cancer.” It had likely started somewhere else, he said, spreading to your spine and then finally your brain, which was what brought us in to see him. The headaches. None of us could do a fucking thing; I just sat there in that sterile fucking office, holding your hand, and all the magic in the world couldn’t change anything. Of course, we tried. We had to. Penelope and I coated you with every spell under the sun and a few that hadn’t even existed previously. Nothing changed. You were impenetrable to magic right to the end. It’s just like you to be an absolutely stubborn arse.

It will be your birthday next week, Simon, or at least the day we’ve been calling your birthday for the past nine years. Ten years of loving you. Ten years of choosing us, through every up and down. It wasn’t enough. No amount of time being loved by you could ever be enough for me. I should have savored every moment, but I was a fool. I expected ten more birthdays, and ten after that, until we grew old together, just like we used to talk about. We made so many plans and shared so many dreams. We talked about having kids of our own someday; round-faced, freckled children who looked like you, or maybe children from care who needed a family, just like you did. I know it terrified you, but you would have been the best father, Simon. It frightened me too, but I would have been able to do it with you by my side, I know I would. I think about that imaginary future family often these days, mourning something we never got to have, and now we never will.

I remember last year, when you turned thirty, you joked that it was too late for you to make anything of yourself now. We stayed up late and drank an entire bottle of wine, plotting to make our grand return to America for your fortieth birthday.

“New York,” you said, “and New Orleans, and Los Angeles– we missed all the good stuff last time.”

“We were a little preoccupied with the overwhelming amount of bad stuff last time, Snow,” I told you.

“Think we should go back to Las Vegas and see if we like it any better now?” you asked, grinning like a fool.

“No,” I said, “and I can’t believe you would ever suggest that.”

“It’s the vampire capital of the world, babe,” you said, like I was the one being an idiot.

“Yes, and I prefer to be the only vampire allowed anywhere near you,” I countered, tackling you and pressing you back into our mattress.

You told me I should go on that trip without you, one of those interminable nights when I sat next to your hospital bed with my head resting on your lap. You were running your fingers through my hair, so gently. You barely had the strength to lift your hand. You couldn’t see me by then; the swelling pressing against your optic nerve had taken your vision a week earlier. They tried radiation to reduce it, to try and restore your sight. It hadn’t worked. I stayed even closer to you after that, holding you as much as I could so you would always know where I was, that I was there, that you weren’t alone. You asked me for things, in those quiet, desperate nights. We both knew that time was running out, so you asked me for promises, and I could never deny you. You made me promise to take care of everyone– Penelope and Shepard and their children, my siblings, your Uncle Jaime. I promised to visit Ebb’s grave for you, and Lady Ruth’s. You knew by then that you’d never be able to visit them yourself again. You asked me to promise you that I would go on, that I’d try to be happy, even try to date. As if I would ever feel joy again after you were gone; as if I could ever love anyone else after the way I have loved you. The way I still love you. You are the love of my life, and if a creature like me is capable of having a soul, you’re the love of every life my soul ever has and ever will experience. I never intended to break my word to you, Simon, but the Baz who made those promises still had you. He’s gone now; he died with you.

I’m sorry, Simon. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I’ve never been brave like you. I’m not strong enough to stay here without you. Our families– the ones we were born with and the ones we chose– will survive this, I know they will. They have each other, they won’t be alone. Not like I am, now. You’ve forgiven me so many terrible things in my life, love. I hate to ask you to forgive one more, but I have to. Please, forgive me, Simon. I love you. I’ll see you soon.

Yours, always.

Baz

#my fic #snowbaz #mcd #tw: cancer #tw: depression #tw: death

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downwiththeficness · 2 years

Text

The Guarantor-Chapter 16

Summary: Frankie went to work every day knowing that there would be an end. A deadline. Reconnecting with her adoptive father, Godric, throws that deadline into question. Teaming up with Godric’s child, Eric, obliterates it entirely. With an uncertain future ahead, Frankie has to learn if she can trust the people around her, let alone herself. Eric Northman/Bisexual!Fem!OC

Word Count: ~3,500

Warnings: Sexual Content, brief

A/N: This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Start from the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Read on AO3 Masterlist

Fuck, he was good. He’d told her that he was good, had bragged so smugly that Frankie hadn’t believed him.

She believed him, now.

Head tilted back, chest arched towards the ceiling, Frankie couldn’t quite catch her breath. Her hands were clenched in sheets long since rumpled. Her brow was beaded with sweat. Every muscle was pulled tight as she inched closer and closer to orgasm.

Where the fuck had he learned to do that thing with his tongue?

Feet digging into the mattress, Frankie tried to get the leverage she needed to grind against his mouth. He held her firm, forcing her to take only what he would give her. She writhed, panting loudly. A low moan against her clit sent waves of pleasure outwards from her core. The feeling left goosebumps in its wake. Her whole body shuddered.

Eyes squeezed shut, Frankie crested the peak so, so slowly. Every contraction felt like an interminable squeeze, a pressure that never quite stopped. Her mouth opened wordlessly. Her thighs and calves burned. She couldn’t breathe around the weight of it.

God damn, it was good.

Frankie hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d come with anyone but herself, nor how much she’d missed being touched by someone who knew what they were doing.

He eased her down, fingers massaging sensitive flesh. Frankie’s body refused to relax, her lungs on fire with the need for air. It took a minute that felt like an hour for her to draw that first, ragged breath.

Cold air in her chest. Cold skin between her legs.

Frankie looked down, knew he was smirking at her before he even lifted his golden head. There was very little light in the room, but his eyes shone bright, incandescent blue in the darkness. They were glazed, blinking slowly at her. Frankie couldn’t look away.

Hand skimming up her side, Eric cast her a look of question, asking silently if she was alright. Frankie nodded, still working to catch her breath. She forced her hands to let go of the sheets, flexed her feet to loosen her calf muscles. Her hips splayed wide and there was an ambient pain from holding them taut for so long.

His gaze dropped, following the path of his other hand as it traced her slit. Frankie hissed, core fluttering. He paused briefly, then did it again. Soft, slow. The caress stoked a fire that was still burning. She shivered.

Eric leaned down, catching her eye once more from over her pubic bone, “I think I’ll have another.”

Frankie sat up with a huge, ugly breath. She was in the bed she’d fallen asleep in, the covers thrown to the floor. Her skin was damp with sweat, her heart beating a staccato rhythm.

A dream.

Pushing her hair back from her face, Frankie swore aloud. There was no way she could ever let him find out that she’d finally had a dream about him. This was going to be a secret that she was going to carry to her grave. Her ego would never recover if he ever got wind of it.

Standing on shaky legs, Frankie stripped the bed. She’d spend her morning washing the sheets while she built a little wall around the memory of the dream. A glance at the clock told her that it was mid-morning. Plenty of time to make herself forget.

The day dragged. Frankie spent most of it on the couch, flipping through every TV channel known to man and bored out of her mind. She forgot to eat both breakfast and lunch, nibbling on a sandwich when her stomach finally alerted her to hunger.

Needing to feel like she’d actually accomplished something, Frankie changed out of her pajamas and into a pair of well worn jeans and a t shirt. On the dresser, her phone rang. Frankie answered it, surprised to hear a job offer on the other side.

“Yes, of course,” she said excitedly, “I’ll be in for my shift on Saturday.”

Frankie had a job.

She smiled at the phone as she ended the call, warm with the feeling of having achieved something. Frankie had gone out and gotten a job all on her own, something she hadn’t done since applying at the bar not long before her eighteenth birthday. Her chest swelled with cautious pride as she made her way back down to the couch.

Flipping through the channels was a little less boring when she knew her bank account would soon be getting deposits instead of getting nickel and dimed by every purchase she made. She caught the tail end of a football game, stalling on the channel. Frankie couldn’t claim to be a football fan, didn’t know anything about either team. Still, she set the remote down and settled in to watch.

Football was the only school game that Godric and Frankie could safely attend together. They could sit and watch the varsity game go on, the sun having set during the JV match. Godric could be surprisingly competitive, singing along with the pep band and shouting when there was a particularly brutal tackle. He knew every word of her school fight song and half the cheers from the cheerleaders.

Frankie watched the rest of the game. And then she watched the game after that, for nostalgia’s sake. She was so engrossed in the back and forth across the field that she didn’t hear the wall of the laundry room slide open, didn’t even notice the shadow looming over her until the game went to commercial.

“Jesus Christ!” she yelled with a whole body flinch.

Eric flopped down on the couch next to her, all smiles, “What are you watching that has you deaf to the world around you? I called your name.”

She hadn’t heard him, obviously, “Just a football game.”

“You’re into sports?” he asked, looking both surprised and confused.

Frankie shook her head, “Not really. Hadn’t watched a game in a while, is all.”

Eric’s mouth opened with a hesitation that told Frankie he’d clocked the touch of mourning in her tone. Thankfully, he let it go, “Who’s playing?”

“No one I recognize.”

“Who are we rooting for?”

“Um,” Frankie hummed as she thought, “The one in blue. I like their uniforms better, and the kicker’s pretty good.”

Eric glanced at the screen as the commentators debated tactics, “Alright. Blue team, it is.”

Frankie’s brows drew together, “You’re not going to work tonight?”

Since Frankie had come to Eric’s house, he’d never spent a whole night there. He was almost always at the bar, or in a meeting, or...doing whatever it was that millenia old vampires did in tiny towns. That he was wiggling deeper into the cushions, his attention on the TV, put Frankie on edge.

“I do take a day off now and again,” Eric intoned as the teams set up for the play.

“Sure,” she said in reply, “No judgment.”

They watched in silence while their team gained ten yards and set up for first down. Eric’s head rolled so that he could look at her, “You’re judging me, aren’t you?”

“No!” was her knee-jerk reaction, followed by a timid, “Maybe.”

Shifting positions, Eric leveled an interested look at her, “Out with it.”

Frankie sighed, pulling a pillow into her lap and hugging it to her stomach, “Its just...you’re always working. Or, it seems like your always working. You always have your phone in your hand, texting or whatever.”

He gave an agreeable nod, “That’s true. I do work a lot.”

“So,” she continued, “Taking the day—or, night—off is kind of...different.”

Read: suspect.

Eric frowned in mock insult, “I’m not allowed to take time off?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Frankie countered, pointing a finger at him.

He smiled softly, “You’re so easy.”

“I am not,” she whined, throwing the pillow at him.

Catching it easily, Eric’s smile widened into a grin, “You are. You take things personally.”

“I do not,” Frankie said in that same whine. The effect was somewhat ruined by the way she returned his smile.

“You do,” he confirmed, “But that’s not weakness, you know?”

Face falling, Frankie was caught off guard by the tone of his voice. It was almost empathetic, which set her back on her heels.

“I know,” she said, voice small.

His mouth thinned, “You don’t, but you will. One day.”

The crowd cheered, celebrating a touchdown.

Frankie looked at the screen, grateful for the distraction, “Looks like we just scored.”

Following her line of attention, Eric replied, “We did. Go team.”

They lapsed into silence, watching the commentators take too long to explain what had happened on the replay. Frankie found herself wanting to reach for her phone to look up some of the jargon. They talked too fast, said too many things over the top of one another. She wished they would just get back to the game.

A soft shuffle of feet came from the first floor hall situated behind the stairs. Frankie looked over her shoulder to find Godric coming towards them, arms stretched over his head. He was dressed in jogging pants and a t shirt that had once been red, but was now a faded pink.

“Sleep well?” she greeted.

Godric dropped his arms, “As well as I usually do.”

Frankie didn’t quite know what to make of that. She recalled when Eric told her that Godric was depressed, but could not sense anything out of the ordinary with him. He was the same genial, placid father she remembered. Frankie looked closer at him. There was blue bruising beneath his eyes. Had he always looked so tired?

“We’re watching the game, if you want to join us,” Frankie prompted, gesturing to the nearest armchair.

Godric’s brows lifted, “I didn’t realize there was a game on.”

“You have a billion channels, Godric. There’s always a game on,” she waved at the TV, “Maybe not football, but there’s something.”

Sitting cross-legged in the armchair, Godric watched the kicker successfully complete a field goal, “I haven’t seen a game since the one where the quarterback clotheslined one of the players on the other team.”

Frankie frowned at him, knowing exactly what he was talking about, “That was when I was in high school.”

Sophomore year, to be precise.

Godric nodded absently, “I suppose it was.”

Frankie stared at him. Godric loved being at the games. He loved cheering and jeering and clapping with the band. That he hadn’t been to a game since she was sixteen made something inside her squirm with discomfort.

“Who are we rooting for?” Godric asked.

“Blue team,” Frankie and Eric replied in unison.

“Excellent,” Godric said with a nod, “We’re winning.”

“Barely,” Frankie muttered. “Our defense fucking sucks.”

Godric made a soft noise of censure, “Have a little faith, Francesca.”

“Tell that to the crowd,” she shot back.

The fans were none too happy that their team had allowed the last touchdown. They were now staring down the barrel of a penalty kick as a direct result of a flag on the play. Frankie would hate to be the ref on the field. The crowd was yelling all kinds of abuse at him as he announced the rule that had been violated. She could barely hear him over the roar of displeasure.

“That was a shit call,” Eric commented lowly.

“Yeah, it was,” Frankie said.

“How they don’t kill the referees between games is beyond me.”

Frankie cut a look at him, “Because its illegal.”

He looked surprised, “Is it in the rule book?”

“No, you walnut,” she groused, “Its literally illegal. Like, you go to jail.”

“That’s only if you get caught.”

Frankie rolled her eyes, “You vampires don’t have rules against killing each other?”

“We do,” he answered. “Its frowned upon. Mostly.”

“Well, there you go. Killing refs is frowned upon.”

Eric shrugged, and they watched the opposing team miss the penalty kick. From the armchair, Godric grunted a triumphant ‘yes!’.

“So,” Frankie drawled, her curiosity piqued, “What happens when one vampire kills another?”

“It depends,” Eric said, distracted by the game.

“On?”

“Status.”

Sensing that Eric wasn’t going to share any further details, Frankie swung her gaze over to Godric, “What does status have to do with it?”

Godric’s head ticked to the side as he explained, “The older the vampire, the harsher the consequences. Newborns are considered expendable until they reach their first century.”

Face scrunched, Frankie blurted, “That’s ridiculous. What are you supposed to do for the first hundred years? Hide in a bunker?”

“That’s actually what happened to an old friend of mine,” Godric said with a laugh, “It took Mina another ten years just to catch up with the fallout from the Industrial Revolution. Should have seen her the first time she saw a steam engine. She called it witchcraft and tried to burn it.”

Blinking, Frankie’s jaw hung open as she processed that statement, “What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information?”

Eric patted her leg, “You asked, remember? Don’t ask the question if you don’t want the answer.”

She did ask.

“Okay,” Frankie said as she turned her attention back to the game.

Two minutes left on the clock. Third down. Possession: Blue team. There went the snap. The quarterback danced backwards, looking for an opening. A camera above the field followed the throw as it sailed in a perfect spiral. Caught.

Frankie leaned forward, watching the player sprint towards the end zone. Grass kicked up behind him as he dodged attempted tackles. He was noticeably smaller than other players, but he could fucking run.

Touchdown.

The crowd got to their feet, screaming nonsensically. In a living room half a country away, three people enjoyed the victory with less fanfare. Frankie clapped with an excited, ‘woo!’. Godric laughed, holding up one fist. Eric grinned and ran his hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture.

As the commentators resumed their conversation about the game, Frankie stood, “I’m going to make some popcorn. You guys want anything?”

It was a reflex to make the offer even though they didn’t eat. Frankie inwardly cringed as she walked as casually as possible towards the kitchen.

“Tru Blood,” Godric called out over his shoulder.

Frankie half turned, “Sure thing. You, too, Eric?”

He glanced at her, “Yes, please.”

She gave him a thumbs up as she cleared the doorway. While she waited for the popcorn to finish, Frankie grabbed a serving tray from the cupboard and set two Tru Blood bottles onto it. It took a little rooting around, but she was able to find a big enough bowl for the popcorn just in time for the microwave to count down to zero.

Snacks at the ready, Frankie carefully maneuvered her way back to the couch and set the tray on the low coffee table. Godric reached down and collected his bottle in a movement that was started and finished between heartbeats. Eric, on the other hand, grabbed his bottle at a much more human pace.

Frankie cradled the bowl in her lap, picking out kernels one by one. There was a little too much butter on them, which left her wishing she’d brought a paper towel along. Too lazy to get up and get one, Frankie resorted to licking the salt and butter from her fingertips.

“What else should I know about vampire politics?”

The question surprised all three of them, Frankie most of all.

Godric took a sip, “I don’t think there is much you need to know.”

Frankie frowned, “I’m living with two of them and my ex girlfriend was recently turned. I think I’m firmly in the ‘need to know’ category.”

Eric chimed in, “She’s got a point.”

Godric’s eyes narrowed at the two of them. After a few more moments of tense silence, he relented, “What do you want to know?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know enough to know what I don’t know—I really gotta stop saying the word, ‘know’.”

Godric nodded sagely, “Then, I will start where you know the most. Masha’s Maker is one of the Sheriffs in New Jersey. This puts me in a delicate position as your surrogate father, as you might already know.”

She didn’t know, but wasn’t going to say it. Frankie kept quiet, eating popcorn to occupy her mouth.

“Under normal circumstances, I would reach out to Prudence,” Godric continued, “But you asked me not to, so I didn’t.” He took a drink, “Now, you are under the protection of our very own Sheriff, which complicates matters more.”

Frankie looked sideways at Eric, who was preening under his Maker’s condemnation. She kicked him lightly in the thigh, hoping to remind him that he should at least attempt to look repentant. He swatted back at her, failing to hide his laugh behind the lip of his bottle.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Godric muttered, “Because I expect you to deal with this matter personally.”

The smile lines around Eric’s mouth tightened, “What do you want me to do?”

“You chose to mark her as yours,” Godric explained in a low voice, “You will be responsible for her.”

Frankie cut in, “Shouldn’t I be responsible for myself?”

Godric shook his head, “You’re human. You can’t be responsible for yourself in the company of vampires.”

“I think I’m offended.”

“Don’t be,” Eric said, “He’s right.”

Frankie let out a hissing breath, glaring at him.

Eric set his Tru Blood down on the coffee table, then turned to look squarely at her, “The only reason you’re not dead right now is because Masha still loves you.”

“That’s not true,” Frankie replied, dumbfounded at the turn of the conversation.

“It is true,” Eric said, “You need to accept that.”

“I don’t need to do a damn thing,” Frankie bit out, angry.

“Francesca…”

Frankie stabbed a finger at Godric, “Don’t you start with that name and that tone. Its not my fault that Masha got turned.”

“That’s not what he said,” Godric intoned, “He said that without Masha you would have been killed—by Anton, by Andrei, by Mikhail, it doesn’t matter. Same result.”

Frankie looked down at the bowl in her lap, suddenly feeling nauseous.

“Vampires are not the same as humans,” Godric continued, voice going soft, “We don’t play by the same rules.”

“I know that,” Frankie croaked, her throat tight around her shame.

“Good,” Godric said, “Because you’ll have to start acting like it. Eric’s position will only go so far to keep you safe. And, he cannot always be with you.”

Feeling a little bit like a lost child, Frankie said, “What about you?”

With a smile that was very nearly condescending, Godric answered, “I will not always be with you, either.”

Licking her lips, Frankie set the bowl down on the coffee table and stood, “I think I’m gonna go to bed. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

It wasn’t until she sat down on the bed in the guest room that Frankie let go over the pain in her chest. She didn’t understand how she could come to the realization that she didn’t know shit about the things that were going on around her and still have the confidence that she was making good decisions. Not for the first time, Frankie concluded that she had been acting like a fucking idiot since the moment she tracked Godric down in that stupid fucking church.

No.

It started before then. In the privacy of her own mind, Frankie could admit that she hadn’t made a single good choice since she cut out of the home Godric arranged for her. She had been so determined that she was going to set the course of her life. And, look at where it had gotten her.

God, she was so, so stupid.

Sniffing back tears, Frankie slumped over, leaning her forearms on her thighs as the sheer embarrassment of what she’d done to herself washed over her.

A knock came from the direction of the doorway. Frankie looked up to see Eric standing just inside the room, looking at her with pity.

“Its fine,” she said, wiping her face, “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he replied, taking a few steps forward. “He means well.”

“Oh, I’m sure he does.”

Eric tsked lowly, “He’s only telling you what you need to hear to stay alive, Frankie.”

She didn’t have anything to say to that. Her eyes stared, unseeing, at the floor near her feet. The bed dipped next to her, the scent of jasmine wafting in the air around her. Frankie’s jaw worked as she wrung her hands anxiously.

“I won’t do you the disservice of lying to you,” Eric said carefully, “You don’t have a good track record with staying out of trouble.”

“Gee, thanks,” she drawled.

“But,” he continued, placing a cool hand atop hers, “you do tend to realize when you’ve made mistakes. And, you hold yourself accountable,

which is better than most people.”

“Thanks,” she said again, this time meaning it.

“Godric is right. You won’t survive long with us if you don’t play by our rules.”

“I don’t know what that means, Eric. I really don’t.”

He nudged her, “I know you don’t. But, I’ll help you.”

Fixing him with a curious look, Frankie asked, “Why would you do that?”

Eric smiled, “I keep telling you. I protect my assets.”

#The Gurantor #True Blood #Eric Northman #Vampires #AU

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stunads · 1 month

Text

can you ever delete memories and feelings from your brain hard drive?

bryan is so interesting

i literally can’t help falling in love with him? scientifically speaking of course

it’s just so interesting

interacting with him from this much more mature place, as someone who understands herself a lot more, and understands life a lot more, and probably him a lot more even though there’s actually so much i don’t know about him now

it’s almost like i can see the past in the present

gosh i wish i could put this in to words

hopefully this is enough for my chronicles

i wonder if we’ll ever get to unlock the mystery of who we are to each other

memories flash in my mind, i can’t see them or conceptualize them but it’s like a feeling

i’ll just randomly smile during the day

and somehow i’ll know it’s because i remembered something about bryan

i mean, i haven’t changed all that much in my core, if anything .. i have become more myself

and that girl is the same girl that fell in love with him

i’m her, heyyyy it’s me

and he’s still so him

so it’s just interesting that after all this time, it feels like no time has passed

and my brain just snaps back to heart eyes, heart boom, smiling at my phone, thinking about .. that thing we used to do

gosh i literally haven’t thought about sex in a minute

that primordial blood oath am i right

let me stop typing

this was supposed to be scientific note taking

i truly need to stress to myself in the future and any potential stalkers or future invited readers that i absolutely do not care about romance at this time in my life

i have absolutely no desire to be in a relationship

i have no relationship gas in my relationship tank

all men are insane

bryan included

i don’t even know if that’s the guy i would even want to be my husband when it’s all said and done

he has on numerous occasions demolished my heart, annihilated my confidence, warped my body image, scrambled my brain to the point where only God knows the extent of how clinically insane that relationship made me, used me for my body? , lied ?, cheated and got away with it ??? , humiliated me, many many more nightmarish things the last of which i will mention here is straight up tell me he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with me lmfao

woof. a lot to unpack still lol

when i say scientific i mean scientific

i’m like the most normal genius girl on earth, i know future me will know if she ever needs to go back and review her field notes

that this girl is not tripping over bryan cromwell

just so curious to unravel all of these strange feelings

dreams that feel so real

the unstoppable feeling of wanting to catch up with him if it’s been too long

the undeniable truth that seeing his name pop up on my phone is still in my top favorite feelings

and let’s just say it our fucking sex was bonkers what are we going to do about that

i never want to have sex before marriage ever again stupidest fucking dumb ass idea of my retarded life thanks a lot dumb ass bryan for ruining my fucking life idiot ass

not with the sex that was awesome

by breaking up with me and ruining my life long vow of celibacy until marriage you dumb fucking piece of shit

and then i went insane and had a few accidents because being a girl is very very hard and guys don’t understand this at all and guys are very pressurey and i was raised to perform whatever tasks and fulfill whatever requests were asked of me and there are many other things that contributed to my dumb assfuckign idiot ass being perpetually retarded for a few years

not that you asked or cared piece of idiot shit

sometimes guys threaten you and throw things at you or start screaming or threaten to hurt themselves or start failing out of college if you don’t agree to hang out with them

or get you way more drunk than they got and sometimes even put things in your drink!

or fucking kiss you when you fall asleep in your own house like a fucking freak of nature

so yeah once SOMEONE you ONLY had sex with because he also believed in God and Jesus and also was planning to wait until marriage and then one day he said okay let’s go for it because obviously we are gonna get married we just can’t yet because we’re 16

when that guy dumps you forever right before college starts and he’s going to the same college as you even though he was going to penn state his whole life and said he would never go to tcnj probably just to make sure you don’t fall in love with kevin ramos

because he didn’t see or hear all of the many times you tried to tell him kevin ramos was a dare i say abusive, incredibly manipulative, scary freak that you only fell into the clutches of because aforementioned virginity taker couldn’t decide which of his fan girls he wanted to claim

when that guy dumps you before college, the guy that made you feel guilty about having premarital sex and the imminent afterlife in hell even though he pulled the trigger and you only did it because Jesus personally told you it was totally kosher because we were the most cutest couple ever, married in our hearts and in the eyes of the Lord who knew our hearts

when that guy DUMPS YOU right before you embark on another 4 years of being trapped in the same habitat, and says it’s because he doesn’t like your personality at all he is just using you for your body and that is wrong

when that happens to you, and your sacred seal is broken along with your mind body and soul

and you don’t have the protection of purity any longer

or the will to live lol

welp you get into some precarious situations and girls are taught to fuck their way out of them lest we be stabbed or strangled or punched or something

so anyways woof a lot to unpack there LOL

what was i talking about

oh right

i also only had *** with dumbass mother fucker even bigger idiot evil piece of dumb ass h**** because i thought i was gonna marry his stupid ASS because i’m so fucking RETARDED and i was legally brain dead after my last dumping and as the laws of the realm decree if i get shattered by bryan i have to fall into the hands of a diabolical lying manipulating violent psychopath

but i finally stopped being retarded

so by the power of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ through the grace of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit i really really really really don’t want to have sex again with anyone on planet earth unless that man is my husband actually ring on, church saw, God saw, locked in

okay but here’s the crux of the issue - what if he’s trash and got a small dick and no stroke and doesn’t have beautiful eyelashes or crooked pinkies or the voice of an angel or makes those cute little faces and noises or grab me and the right way

okay some of those things i can verify pre maritally

i’ve honestly lost track of things a bit got myself a little flustered

it’s so funny how just thinking about how cute bryan is just wipes away any bad feelings i could have lmfaooo now im like girl chill out why did you pop off for 7 paragraphs he can use us for our body that’s fine

LOL i need Jesus to come pick me up fr like i need to hang up my human body in the rafters of this mortal coil like a jersey, i’m at the retarded mall of life and i need a ride home,

anyways i think i made my points for tonight’s field report

to recap

1. i love being friends with bryan

2. i hope one day the nature of our true meaning to each other will become more evident

3. i hope we both find the perfect partner and will be able to each have a beautiful wedding to exact person God made for us and that we can both be at each other’s wedding and God willing that process could happen at the same time so it’s just perfect and we can be truly happy for each other and friends with each others partners and friends together forever

4. life is so beautiful but also so scary and it makes me happy that even though many things change, i can still talk to bryan cromwell and things don’t feel scary anymore

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guideoftime · 3 months

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▴ — @dutifulsilence ;; Sheik & Link. "whenever you feel you're about to lose control, just take my hand and give it a little squeeze."

“Holding someone’s hand while playing the harp is rather difficult.” Sheik teases, offering the Hero a smile before turning his gaze back away. “I’ve told you about the weird dreams, you’ve seen me wake up from having one.” He fell out of a tree the first night with Link, gave the Hero a heart attack thinking something was attacking them. He still feels guilty over that, but Link assured him it was fine. He knows now, from how many nights he’s spent with the other, that Link has his own fair share of nightmares.

Sheik’s are–a little different though.

He has nightmares that give him trauma over things he’s never lived through. And they feel so frightfully real. The things that Sheik has dreamt of, the things they have him capable of doing, none of it should be possible or real. Dreaming of fighting, carrying those skills into the waking world, any person would think they’re unhinged. And Sheik feels it, he feels so very insane over the dreams that he has.

"A large part of those dreams include the harp. I learned everything about it through them, but I still can't control it."

Sheik’s learned to play the harp through the dreams, and he learned to fight with it the same way. However, the harp he has, it’s fueled by his magic and that was never something Sheik was taught to use. His family, the Shadows of the Hylains, the Sheikah, have long since shaken off those things. The ability to fight and use the shadows for which they’re named. Instead they farm, cultivate and still tinker with technology. None of that includes the magic that Sheik dreamt of using with the harp.

Which is why when he tries to use it, when he pulls it from the depths of his body and fuels it into the harp, things can go either right or wrong. Not knowing what he’s doing, how to use it, that causes such ranging and dangerous effects. Sheik puts off using the harp to fight as much as he can, but sometimes there's just no other choice. It is, unfortunately, the strongest weapon he has. The other things he uses, daggers, needles, bombs and talismans–all of it fails in comparison to the harp.

When the Hero runs into trouble, when he feels like they’re in a dangerous situation and Sheik just isn’t doing enough to help–he panics, he yanks the harp out, he throws everything he has into it to save the other. Most of the time it works, today was the first time Link saw what happens when it fails.

The thing they were fighting, this weird amalgamation of grabby yanky floor hands were the most frightening, disgusting and annoying thing he has ever seen. From a distance, easy enough to fight, the problem came when he realized they needed to take them all down at once in order to win. That involved much more coordination, Sheik stealing Link’s bow and shooting multiple arrows at once. Seal the deal sort of thing, kill them all and cut the head of the master off. He’s read books with other monsters like that.

What they spawned after they died was where the problem came in.

Some gloom version of Ganondorf, and Sheik did not like that. The harp was pulled out in a panic, he had gripped the strings tightly and then thrown himself at the monster while Link searched for something to use to fight this thing. The harp worked rather well, he feels he did a good amount of damage, until it didn’t. His magic was so chaotic, so unpredictable, he probably pushed himself a bit too hard and just like a boomerang–it rounded back in on him.

It snapped into his body, attacked his very core, and Sheik felt the panic that gripped at his chest. His head throbbed, his body got so cold internally, and the harp had fallen from his fingers. Sheik didn’t hear the Hero’s panic voiced between the screaming in his head and the unfocused look in his gaze as he stared unseeingly at the ground beneath him, spinning and pain filled.

The Hero must have won the fight, because the next moment he knew Link’s hands were grasping at his own and trying to help soothe whatever had gone wrong with him. He needed desperately to get a better grasp on his magic. But having Link close, feeling him and the warmth that he offered, his head seemed to calm with his magic far too easily and he reached desperately for the Hero. Sheik had clutched at him for so long, using him to calm his own mind and body, which worked so easily.

After that encounter they decided to camp for the night, to try and relax while getting Sheik’s own body back under control. He had already felt better, but the fact that Link wouldn’t go far from him was much more comforting. Along with that offer to hold his hand, which was so precious and cute.

From where he was seated in the Hero’s lap he gently wrapped his arms around Link’s neck and tucked his head down against his shoulder.

“But, no matter how hard it would be to do that, I appreciate you and I adore the offer to do that.” Because he did, and he wanted Link to know that. As silly as it sounded, as simple as it sounded, holding Link’s hand would probably calm the worst emotions swirling inside of him. “You did really good, by the way, I’m proud of you. I was–quite useless, and despite that you managed to not only protect me but kill that thing. It really is incredible.”

#long post cw #▴ — path / royal archivist #dutifulsilence

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hannahsmusings · 5 months

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*~ new plot. again. ~*

*I had to be dreaming, I had to be in one of those hyper realistic dreams where you’re not sure if you’re awake or asleep, I just had to be* *I just got done with office hours with my advisor, we were discussing the tutoring program that I was part of that I loved for the most part, except now, now I wanted to do literally anything else with my time except being part of this tutoring program* *she had just given me my new tutoree since it was a month into term and I nearly told her ‘no’ straight up when she told me my new tutoree’s name, Anthony Clayton* *it was a name I hadn’t heard in four years but a name I used to hear every single day, it was the name of my childhood best friend, the person I spent every day with from the age of 3 up until we were 17 when he got super cool and really good at sports and I went the exact opposite way* *I was trying my best to do some breathing exercises on my way to my dorm; I knew he went to this school, we applied to this school together when we were 16, me staying up until 5am with him, helping him write his admission essay, neither of us wanting to be separated, we both got in and we were so damn happy back then when we were under the delusion that we’d be friends forever and ever and ever* *now we were two perfect strangers, we didn’t even follow one another on social media, we ran in two different circles and luckily this university was so huge that we never crossed paths - I was on course for med school, studying to be a physical therapist, where he was studying something but more so probably focused on going pro, he always was such a great athlete, being 'all brawn and no brains’ according to himself* *I had felt safe here until now when I was faced with the reality that I’d be spending 2 to 3 days a week with my ex-best friend, in a quiet library, just us, for an hour* *I couldn’t lie that a jolt of sadness had rushed through me when my advisor said that he was already so far behind and failing, and this class was just one of many, but if he didn’t get at least a C he would be held back and not allowed to graduate, this being a core class that he needed and it wasn’t his first time taking it* *I remembered all the late nights I spent with him while he struggled through schoolwork, him always taking longer than others when reading a simple paragraph in a book, having a difficult time with sentence structure when writing a paper, I hated knowing that those issues had followed him here, wondering if he had accepted any other help throughout the years, assuming not since he was in this predicament now, the thought of him just shrugging off schoolwork making my blood boil just slightly* *I walk back to my dorm, saying hi to my roommates before heading into my single bedroom, closing the door behind me and leaning against it, letting out a heavy sigh, not sure how I was supposed to prepare to seeing Anthony Clayton in the flesh tomorrow for the first time in four years*

__________________________________________________

*after class I’d gone to the gym, needing to burn off some frustration after the conversation with my lecturer, him somehow managing to make me feel more stupid than I already felt, forcing me to enrol in the student tutoring program in order to get my grades up, hating to admit to anyone I was struggling and needed help but I had no choice, I couldn’t fail this class and lose my scholarship, I needed to keep my grades up to have any chance of becoming pro, hockey having been integral to my personality since I was a young teen, not sure who I’d be without it* *I wasn’t ready to tell some stranger about my struggles with reading and writing, hating to call it dyslexia as that made me feel so stupid, the idea of having to struggle in front of someone made me frustrated all over again* *I work up a sweat, finally feeling better as I head back to my dorm, heading to my bedroom and throwing my stuff onto the bed as I begin to undress to shower as my phone buzzes, seeing it was an email from my professor with the tutor pairings, groaning and opening it up as I look for my name* *my eyes widen as my gaze locks onto a name, a name so familiar it stuns me for a moment, sitting down on my bed with my shirt half off as I re-read your name once more* Huh. *mumbles, grinning as I read ‘Renee Coppola’ over again, so confused as I knew you went to the same university as we’d applied together all those years ago but we’d lost touch, you seeming to have drifted off and focused on academics and we’d just parted ways, wondering whether this was you or just another girl with the same name, chuckling a little at how the universe worked in mysterious ways and suddenly not feeling so bad about this whole tutoring thing, knowing you’d had plenty experience when we were kids and I struggled, figuring this would be a nice way to get back in to touch as we’d been best friends, joined at the hip and I didn’t know what had happened, wanting to be at that point again* *scrolls through the email and see’s it had arranged meetings with the tutors for tomorrow, grinning to myself as I allow myself to think over all those happy moments from when we were kids, you and your home being such a safe space for me and I’d had moments of missing you over the years but I just figured this was what you’d wanted and we’d grown out of each other*

#renee plot

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