#believe me if i had enough energy to write a damn fic for this verse for yuri and those two i WOULD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

letstrywritingmaybe · 3 months

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I’m so fucking tired, the switch to being a morning person is wild. I’ve never been that girlie and I never thought I could be but I’m loving my new job so far. Literally couldn’t be happier, I’m sure as it goes I’ll find things I may not enjoy but so far it’s been amazing. But again this was my first week and I don’t know shit yet. Enough about that, writing wise I’m so sorry I’m super behind. I’m still determined to keep weekly updates for the sibling verse, (delaying posting cause I’m supporting Palestine.) But I want to do multiple updates and at the very least give Vordark my beloved the weekly updates. But I’m too tired to try and write right now, so it’ll have to wait till tomorrow or maybe even Sunday. I’ve been working like nonstop the past three weeks and I don’t even have my Pens to keep me energized. Don’t even get me started on irl relationships with people, I’m still upset. But yeah I’m hoping to be on it soon

Update: dreaming up yet another shinshi verse I can’t write cause I have too many WIPs and I just can’t. But I’m hoping to start the next chapter of the sibling verse before I have to actually get up and ready!

Update 2: I started the next chapter of the sibling verse but had to do some errands and now I’m tired again. I’m gonna nap then watch the mean girls movie then hopefully finish the chapter. We shall see (I did finish the chapter!). Alright, I should have the full day today besides football and airport run way late. So I’m hoping to pick back up on the valentines event, then midnight rain, then the pov series that’s taken me too damn long already to start *sigh but also I would like to read one of my book books too. I’m feeling so behind in everything, and while it’s cause I’ve been so busy. I just wish I could be more on top of things, but I’m only human and it’s been very exhausting existing lately. Most of it is still very filling and I really do truly love my new job but there’s so much I have to learn!

Update 3: irl continues to be a lot. I did not get to go about my day off the way I wanted. It ended up being way stressful, but on the bright side I booked another trip cause of course I did. Okay now I’m gonna try and write. The curse of my main character energy continues, please just let me live my filler episode dreams!!! 😭😭😭

I’m halfway through with the valentine event I think, and idk why I’m exhausted. But I guess I’ve had a long week and today was a lot also. I’m gonna take a nap before I have to go to the airport and pick someone up. Idk if I’ll get more writing done after, and any tomorrow but I will try. At the very least, I’m going to update either the sibling verse or midnights. I believe I’m caught up on comments now, I love when I get to read fics! But now it’s time for bed cause unfortunately I need to be a morning person. One more day off but it’s going to be very busy with rl stuff again *sigh hoping I get some writing done but I’m not holding my breath. Now excuse me while I continue to dream about this fic I have no intention of writing, it’s another memory loss one cause of course it is

Update 4: I’m about to go to sleep cause I need to be a morning person (yes I’m going to keep talking about this until it actually happens) but I think I’m done with the valentines event! Super short chapters so it wasn’t that hard to do, but I’m just glad I got it done! Now I can go back to working on my projects I wanna do once I get used to my schedule. Also I ended up updating the sibling verse instead of midnights cause of my time stamp thing, but I will try again tomorrow

#cynful babbles #I just feel like rl has been a lot and lots of ups and downs #almost too much for me to handle but luckily more good things than bad but it’s making me feel on edge

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

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REDACTED verse - The aloof Bombay & wounded Border Collie

Summary: They say you are what you are in the dark. So you prove just who you are when there's only you and Frederick in a dark house, with no one else around.

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Angst with a happy ending] & [Mild panic attack]

So, first thing first, a little backstory about this oneshot. I had already written out the first scene a week before Redacted announced the discontinuation of Frederick & Bright Eyes series. Although he mentioned that it’s fine to continue on writing headcanons about the two, I was hesitant to continue writing this fic.

But I’ve been missing them terribly so I sat my ass down and finally completed it! Yay! Fred & Bright Eyes had one of the most interesting dynamics in this fandom so I wanted to give it a go based on my headcanons of them.

There's a strange sort of energy hovering around Vincent and Sam lately.

It's not subtle either. Its anxiety, stress and uncertainty all roll together into a heavily dense fog that makes you itches under the skin.

This has been going on for days now.

Vincent constantly has thick textbooks with him whenever he comes over to Sam's place. They would exchange short pleasantries before Sam hurried off to his Werewolf beau (it's sort of funny the first time Sam returns home, and you spotted courses of wolf's hair stuck onto the hem of his clothes and jeans. You figured that this man's main hobby was tussling with Wolves, but when Sam would sneak back into his own fucking house like a teenager, it wasn't hard to put two-and-two together). Vincent would then make sure that you and Frederick are fed, settled in for the night before he completely ignores the two of you in favour of his school work.

As if the two of you are a pair to toddlers. You'd laugh if it didn't annoy you.

Fred, ever the gentle sweetheart, attempted to make small talks at first. Tentatively asking if he's stressed out over exams and if there's anything he could do to help - the result was expected. With pen in hand, notebooks and the two hundred and one pages depicting the foundations of magical healing, Vincent rather absentmindedly shooed him away.

Sam is arguably the worst. Ever since he stepped outside of the house during their crash course of the Empowered creatures in Dahlia to answer a phone call, he returns with lines on his forehead and shoulders tensed as hell.

Their impromptu lesson ended just like that when another Clan member had to babysit the two of you after Sam stormed out of the house.

You don't know whether they realise how taunt their strings have been, and you don't really care, honestly. Just curious; you're pretty confident that something big will happen soon.

At least there's something exciting to look forward to other than Sam's disapproving frowns and Fred's frustrated attempts at making you bear your heart and guts out.

And something big will happen soon. Apparently, there's something equivalent to a magical Olympics that occurs every year called the Elemental & Energetic Games, and this year, the local supernatural academy would be the one hosting it in Dahlia. Interesting.

Speaking of which, you could hear Vincent talking to his lover outside your bedroom through his phone. "Sam's on the way... yeah, he just texted me." A short pause. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, hey, Lovely - listen to me. Everything's going to be alright. You've been practising non-stop for the Games. You deserve a special night for a change. So here's what we're going to do: I'll pick up some of that blueberry pie you love so much on the way back, we'll watch some movies after dinner and then have an early night so you'll feel better tomorrow. Sounds good? Nice. Oh wait - I think I can hear Sam outside. See you in a little bit. Love you too, Lovely."

You tune the outside world after that. It makes sense now why Vincent was stressed out; he's busy playing the good boyfriend.

With a tired sigh, you try your best to occupy your mind. It's three hours to midnight, but to Vampires, that's practically early morning, and you're already so bored. You don't want to step out of your little sanctuary if it means having to deal with Sam, Vincent and Fred tonight.

Or ever. Forever sounds good.

Not knowing what else to do, you pushed yourself out of bed and padded towards the window sill. The cool night air greets you as well as the trees and shadows that stretch on for miles. Once you and Fred were officially brought under Sam's care as his Progenies, you quickly realise that his house is located on the outskirts of Dahlia. Where the forests sprawl behind the abode and the city lights are just far enough not to pollute the night sky.

A perfect place to raise a pair of unplanned Newborn Vampires. You conclude that either Sam enjoys living by himself in a secluded property or that this house was given to him by Mr. Solaire.

Either way, you would've love to sneak out and explore the forest if it weren't for the magical wards that Sam had warned the two of you. The moment you or Fred steps out of the immediate area, Sam would know right away that one of them disobeyed his rules.

So despite the pleasant night air, there's a strum of anxiety and restlessness stirring within you. Is it because of Sam's recent behaviours or the upcoming Games? You can't tell, not when no one is bothered enough to tell you what's going on.

You take a deep breath and take your sweet time to exhale the air out. There's no use in working yourself up; not when you just need to get through this Newborn phase. It's better to think of the future.

And that bastard's mangled corpse at your feet.

"You should've listened to your friend, little mouse."

Ironically, the monster's voice is the only thing keeping you sane during this whole happy house facade that Sam and Frederick insist on playing. Late-night fantasies of ripping that smug's asshole to pieces are the only thing that keeps you going, sad as it is.

It's not revenge; it's justice. It's your atonement for hurting Frederick. What good would apologies serve when you can present that monster's head to him? You're not deluded enough to play the victim; you're the reason why the two of you are the way you are now, but you'll be damn if you admit that to Sam.

Sam's already blamed you for what happened to Fred. Even if he never says it. His lingering glances and furrowed brows are telling enough. There's no need to give him more ammunition against you.

You breathe in and out again; willing yourself to calm down. So you start to distract yourself by planning to gather enough money and resources to leave the Clan once Mr. Solaire deems that you're safe to be on your own and to others. His kind smile and knowing eyes should've made you uncomfortable, but all you can feel is genuine compassion and understanding coming from that ancient Vampire King.

So. Priorities: Passing the Newborn period, gather enough money, clothes and anything else that's important, thank Mr. Solaire for taking you into his Clan, and if it's not too presumptuous, ask him to continue to care for Fred.

A knock on the door startles you from your train of thoughts, but you keep your gaze on the dark forest laid before you.

You heard the door creak as it slowly swings open and then, "Bright Eyes? Is... Is everything ok?"

It's Fred. Of course, it would be Fred.

"Mm-hmm." You reply absentmindedly. You didn't even have to look at him to know that he doesn't believe your bullshit. And him being your Sire makes it impossible to lie to him, so you often gives out vague responses.

Most of these days, your interactions with him are curt, with doubt thrown into the mix. Fred is hesitant to press you when you brush away his questions, and in return, you hide as often as possible so you wouldn't step on any emotional landmines in this house.

"Are you sure? Because I can kind of sense that you're upset..." Fred said after a brief moment of hesitation. Ah, it's going to be one of those nights.

The bond between a Sire and his Progeny once again proves to be a fucking nuisance. Not only could you not lie to Fred, but he could also sense phantom emotions coming from you. So much for privacy.

"It's fine, Fred. I was just thinking." There. Not a lie but not the total truth either.

"O-Oh." From the doorway, Fred bit his lower lip. Why is it getting harder and harder to approach Bright Eyes nowadays? He hates this distance between them. He hates how they rarely left their room.

He hates how it feels like he's losing his friend as the days go by.

"Do you, uh, maybe want to play a game or something? Vincent hooked up a Playstation 5 before he left. I think he also left some video games - "

"I'm not in the mood to play tonight, Fred. Maybe tomorrow."

Fred sighs at the clear dismissal. It honestly hurt; Bright Eyes constant rebuff is getting sharper and sharper. Without another word, Fred left Bright Eyes to their thoughts.

As usual, nothing is absolved tonight.

It's a boring rainy Wednesday night. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the shutters promises an incoming storm when you hear the sound of rumbling thunders approaching the city from a distance.

Tonight, Vincent is too busy at D.A.M.N to babysit you and Fred. Sam already left the house an hour after the sun had set with his usual instructions not to go beyond the wards and that a Clan member would be coming over to supervise them.

Why does this feel like you and Fred are the unwanted children from a divorced couple? Oh well, all the more reason to leave the clan ASAP.

You plan to brood in your room as usual after draining your share of the blood bags in the fridge. However, the moment you take three steps out of the kitchen, lightning flashes across the sky.

The power trip, hurtling the entire house into total darkness.

"The circuit breaker," You murmur, inhumane eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as you look around the area in 4K HD. "Did Sam ever mentioned where it was?" You tried to recall the house's layout from Sam's words alone, but you tend to tune out his voice whenever he speaks more than twenty minutes. So it looks like you better start from the basement.

Just when you're about to head downstairs, a whimper froze you. You tilt your head towards one of the bedrooms.

The sound is coming from Fred's.

You stood your ground for only a few seconds of hesitation before you quietly approached his bedroom and slowly opened the door as to not startle him — concern creeping into your heart.

Just like the rest of the house, Fred's bedroom is completely dark. Lightning flashed once more to illuminate Fred's huddled figure on the floor near the window. He's breathing very hard and rapidly with his head in between his knees.

Your heart twisted into a knot at the sight of a frightened Fred, and you couldn't help but wonder if this is how he looked like when that monster hurt him.

You forcefully put that thought away. You're horrible with words, but there's one way you can still comfort him.

Fred's breath hitches when your back lean against his. "B-Bright Eyes?" He calls out with a choked sob, head slightly raised in surprise.

When you said nothing, Fred let out a ragged sigh. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me."

You blink and turn your head to give him a side-eye. Say what?

"Don't give me that l-look." Fred snaps after a sniffle. "You could hardly look at my face lately, and you only leave your bedroom whenever you have to eat. If it weren't for that, you'd happily pretend that Sam and I don't even exist."

"That's because whenever I'm around, you keep wanting to talk about Wonderworld, and Sam keeps shooting me looks as if I'm a shitstain underneath his fucking boots." You shoot back reflexively.

Much to the surprise of absolutely no one, your words upset Fred even further. "You can't talk about Sam like that! He's been nothing but kind to us. To you and you just - "

"He blames me for what happened to you!" Fred can't be this oblivious, can he?

Behind you, Fred went stiff.

"You're his Progeny, and I'm the deadweight that he's stuck with because you Turned me. He knows it, Vincent knows it. Fuck it, everyone in the Clan knows it! So why should I give a damn when I'm unwanted? And that's alright! That's totally alright! You want to know why that's alright, Freddy?" Lightning split the night sky. A rather powerful thunder shakes the house, but at this moment, nothing exists except for you, Fred and the tension that has been brewing between the two of you the moment your humanities were forfeit.

"I'm not planning to stay here any longer than I have to! The moment Mr. Solaire give us the green light, I'm out of Dahlia! Buh-bye! You and Sam can do whatever the fuck you want, but I don't want to stay in this city any longer! I don't have anything left here!"

Silence enveloped the bedroom. What are you even doing here? Why did you even think you could comfort Fred when all you've been doing is hurting him. Even now! This was a mistake. You should've -

"I was right. I'm losing you too..."

"Uh, what?"

Fred tucks his head in between legs tighter as if he's trying to hide from the world. "I think I always knew that you were going to leave me when you started to pull away from everyone. That's why I wanted us to talk about that Halloween night so badly." His voice is ragged, tears stream down his face. "Y-You said that you don't have anything left in Dahlia, but... you're all that I have left and if you leave... I..." Fred sighed and quietly continued, "I thought I was your friend. I thought I meant something to you."

"I've hurt you." You reply, just as quietly. "I've been hurting you since Wonderworld, and even tonight, I'm hurting you. I didn't listen to you that night, and because of it, we're here. You lost your family, friends and future and for that I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you."

"Thank you, Bright Eyes. I-I needed to hear that." Fred reply. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it back. "What happened was... fucked up, but none of us knew about that Vampire. Or that Vampires actually exist. So it's stupid of me to blame you for our d-deaths."

"But I didn't listen - "

"Yes, you didn't listen but will you listen to what I have to say now, Bright Eyes? Please? I want us to move on from this together. I want us to be better."

Perhaps it's how raw and near begging Fred sounds that both of your walls are down tonight. Perhaps, tonight, you finally realise that it's you that doesn't like confrontations and that despite Fred's gentle and reserved nature, he has no problem mending the wounds between the two of you with force if he has to. Huh, who could've thought?

The two of you talk for hours in the darkness. It feels so awkward to bear your heart to Fred after everything, but to your immense surprise and relief, he listens to you patiently, and once you're done, he let you into his heart. All the fears, insecurities, regrets, shame and horror are laid between you and together, you address them one by one until the storm lets up.

And when the silver light of the moon peeking through heavy clouds, you found yourself snuggling with Fred on his bed. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck while Fred's arm is around you. It's strange how lighter your heart is now.

"Have you stop crying already?" You ask, wondering if you'd need to run to the kitchen to make a simple bag of ice for Fred's red, puffy eyes before they swelled.

Fred snort. He sniffles and squeezes your body in assurance. Being slightly taller than you, it feels sort of nice to be held like this. Despite their heartfelt conversation and confessions, the trauma they both carry is still fresh, but now, it doesn't feel like an overwhelming miasma threatening to drown you in guilt and sorrow. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright now. It feels good to finally cry after... after everything."

"Can't relate." You bluntly interject. "I usually get pissed off after a crying session."

"I can actually believe that." Fred giggles. "I'm beginning to understand you a lot better, Bright Eyes. Thank you for listening; I know that words are hard for you, so I'm very grateful that you want to work things out as much as I do."

"Mn."

Outside, the rain has become a gentle drizzle, and the stars ushered a bright full moon. It's too lovely of a night to brood; you might as well take a nap with Fred.

"Bright Eyes?" Fred suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of your sleepy haze.

"Mn?"

"Do you... I mean... are you still planning to leave Dahlia?" His voice returns to its timid and hesitant state.

"Well... yeah. After our - urgh - mushy talk, I realise it's all the more reason I need to do it. You're the only thing I have left in this city after all."

"You want to leave me despite just saying that all you have is me? Uh, I don't... don't get it. Can you please explain it to me, Bright Eyes?"

You hold back a groan. It looks like Fred has discovered the magic of 'please' and your weakness to it. "I'm planning to kill the Vampire who killed us and use his skull as my apology gift to you."

Unlike you, Fred groans in disbelieve. You yelp when he manoeuvres you so your body can lie on top of his and trap you in his arms. "No... Bright Eyes, no... no hunting that asshole, OK? You don't need to give me a skull; just stay here with me. Skulls are gross anyway." He whines like a needy toddler, which, surprisingly, makes you feel fond instead of irritated.

So you roll your eyes and press your face into Fred's chest. Perhaps you can try to convince Fred to leave with you in the future, but for now, nothing matters but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of wet grass outside.

They're going to be alright.

#redacted asmr #fanfic #second pov #they/them pronouns #bright eyes (listener)#frederick #vincent solaire #sam collins #will is mentioned

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aelaer · 5 years

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Suicide TW!!! I live for the Nick/Stephen frenemy relationship, so: AU where Stephen is severely depressed and, instead of crashing his car, he parks in a pull-over and attempts suicide (drugs, alcohol, cutting, up to you) only to then be hit by an oncoming car. As a result, he ends up in hospital to realise that not only is he still alive, but Nick knows what he did. He can't stand the shame and humiliation, until he hears the words "I'm sorry" out of nowhere.

Okay nonny, so a couple things:

By relationship I presume you meant “platonic relationship” as my list of (serious) romance-focused stories in the MCU is a big fat zero and will remain that way probably for some time. If not all time. But I never say never.

I altered the scenario a bit and decided not to use a car crash, but the main elements (depression/suicide, Nick and Stephen interaction, Nick Knowing) remain. This also sort of allows it to potentially be in the “realm of canon” with enough stretching, should one decide to want the headcanon. Though IMO this is an AU-verse.

So I hope that’s all okay and you still find it fulfilling. I’ve never actually written Nick before (though I dabbled with the idea of all the events of Doctor Strange from Nick’s POV like, back when the film first came out) so that was also fun. I really dislike fics that make him look like an idiot (or worse, a pervert for some weird ass reason) so it’s great to get my own view out.

And I also didn’t want to write a book because I’ve got too many WIPs that are books that need to get finished first, so I was going for “short and sweet”. In a manner of speaking. I mean it seems I’m still incapable of doing something under 2000 words but it’s shorter than the last prompt so you know, I’m getting there.

As the prompt suggests, this fic will go into detail about very serious subjects around mental health, including depression and suicide. Please proceed with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you.

Please also note that the symptoms and actions taken within the story are not a guide or diagnosis tool and should be interpreted as strictly fictional. Please refer to official literature such as those offered by the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US) and other verified sources for what you should do if you believe someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts.

Written for @stephenstrangebingo square, “It’s Not About You”.

—————–

Every employee at Metro-General took the confidentiality of their patients’ conditions seriously. There was no doctor or nurse on staff that could be bribed to leak any celebrity’s medical information; they were known for having some of the best doctors for a reason. Many of the elite of New York went to that hospital in the middle of Midtown for that famous discretion.

There was, however, one glaring exception to this rule that every nurse and doctor learned early on: if one of their co-workers had something very serious happen to them, their status would eventually leak out to the rest of the staff. There was never anything particularly hostile about the whispers, and while curiosity was the biggest fuel to the information train, news tended to spread out from concern rather than scorn. This trend even applied to staff members that were generally seen as assholes.

Doctor Nicodemus West learned this during his next shift. A couple minutes after entering his office, just as he was getting into his email inbox, a quick knock at the open door broke his concentration. He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Alyssa.”

The nurse offered a brief smile in greeting, but stepped inside and closed the door before speaking. “Did you hear the news?” she asked softly; her smile was gone.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, news?”

“Doctor Strange was admitted to the ER last night.”

His mind came to a screeching halt. “What? Seriously?” He generally avoided the man if he could, though from what was going around the gossip circles the last couple weeks, Strange was still a raging asshole, but in good health. “What happened?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know all the details, but he had to get his stomach pumped.”

Nick winced in sympathy; that was not a pleasant experience. “Jeez,” he muttered. “Is he doing okay?”

“Last I heard, he’s stable,” she answered. “Apparently Doctor Palmer’s still his emergency contact, though.”

“She would be anyone’s emergency contact; she’s too good of a person,” he replied in return. “Thanks for letting me know, though; I suspect others in the department may need to take some of his patients that can’t wait for him.”

Alyssa nodded. “The administration is already looking through his cases, though I expect he’ll be up and back at work as soon as he can. Doctor Strange is never really one for breaks.”

“I suppose not,” said Nick. The conversation turned to other topics and the neurosurgeon put the matter with Strange in the back of his mind, left as generally unimportant in the grand scheme of his life.

—————

Strange got back to work and things got back to normal in the neurology department.

Only thing was, Nick started noticing things.

While Doctor West was no prodigy like Doctor Strange, he would not have the ability to become a neurosurgeon without the ability to notice details. It was the details in life— in the human body in particular— that fascinated him and turned him towards medicine in the first place. No, he wasn’t a prodigy, but he was still damn good at his job.

So when Strange came back to the office a few days after his visit to the ER, Nick decided to break his usual policy of avoiding Strange as much as humanly possible and went to his office to welcome him back. It was good for department morale to act mostly cordial to each other, even if most of the effort was on his part.

The door was open and Strange was still in his outer coat, back to him, when Nick knocked on the doorway. The doctor turned to face him and Nick raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Just wanted to say welcome back.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and he made a rather weird expression. “Oh… uh, thanks.” He turned to the coat rack in the corner of the room and began to remove his outerwear.

“How’re you…” Nick started, but paused as the coat was fully removed, revealing Strange’s dress shirt underneath. It hung rather loosely on his figure; apparently the man had lost some weight recently. Due to Christine Palmer’s honeymoon phase about two years ago, Nick was more aware than he would prefer to be about how ‘fit’ Doctor Stephen Strange was (which really was unfair).

It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. When had that happened?

Strange didn’t seem to notice his trailing off. “I’m fine. Perfectly alright, thank you. I hope you didn’t botch any of my surgeries while I was gone.”

And there was the asshole he remembered. Nick pressed his lips together. “All your patients are recovering without setback. You can even see them for yourself.” He did his best to cut back the bite of sarcasm in his last sentence.

If Strange heard it, he didn’t comment on it. “I’ll let the nurses handle it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of emails to catch up on. Close the door behind you, if you would.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shut the door as he left the office, but the detail seen settled in the back of his mind to remain quiet, but not forgotten.

And with that one thing noticed, he started to notice more things as the weeks passed on.

According to Alyssa, Strange was rarely seen in the hospital cafeteria anymore— one of the cafeteria staff members who had an open crush on the doctor was complaining about it, apparently.

Strange was having bouts of insomnia, according to gossiping security personnel. There were times that doctors did not go home for the night, but his were becoming more consistent occurrences.

As Nick ate with members from both his usual surgical team and Strange’s surgical team one lunch time a few weeks after Strange came back to work, the topic somehow went to Strange and his uncanny recollection for music, no matter the genre or decade it was released. It was well known that he liked to have the others on his team try and challenge him with their song choices while he was performing his operations.

“Not anymore,” said Billy, and Alyssa frowned at him.

“What? But that’s his gig! He’s been doing that for years.”

Billy shrugged. “He hasn’t been doing it for a few months now. He’s told us he doesn’t care what we want to play, but he doesn’t guess at songs anymore. Doesn’t give any recommendations, either. It sort of sucks; my music library has barely expanded this year.”

“Maybe you need to find something really challenging, a song so obscure that he’ll be drawn into it again,” she said. “I wonder how well he knows Jamaican music.”

“We tried British and Australian Top Hits of the ‘80s last year, but we haven’t done Jamaica. Do Jamaicans generally speak English? He hasn’t memorized songs from every language in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, and as Alyssa started explaining the history of Jamaica and Jamaican Creole, Nick stored this new bit of information away in the section of his brain that, somehow, had become dedicated to collecting all these tidbits.

And Nick noticed that every time he bumped into the other neurosurgeon in the hall, he appeared exhausted. Nick did not know if anyone else noticed the clear loss of weight and the dark bags around his eyes, but they were blindingly obvious to him.

Usually Strange moved with an endless amount of energy when off to surgery, and with some of the more challenging surgeries the energy stayed with him no matter how long the procedure took. It was an exuberance that even he admired, though it was never something he planned to admit to Strange. But now the energy was missing. He was still snarky and aloof, but the spark of genuine joy that was once clear to everyone in the department was gone.

If Strange was a friend, he would have acted weeks ago. If Strange was a colleague he got along with, he would have waited no longer than a month, just to make sure. But two months after his short medical hiatus and Nick remained uncertain, because this was Stephen Strange. Surely no one as big-headed and arrogant as he could ever actually be— yes, there were some signs, but it just seemed too far-fetched. Surely not.

A couple weeks later and some of the doctors from neurosurgery, some from cardiology, and some from the ER were having a rare lunch together. Somehow Christine Palmer had managed to drag Strange out of his office to see his coworkers. And somehow he ended up sitting next to Strange, though the man was mostly quiet as he took the occasional bite from his salad. That in itself was very unusual, as Nick was used to Strange enjoying all the attention of the room.

The conversation turned to a sudden, inexplicable death that happened just yesterday that the hospital was still trying to solve. As theories went around the table, Nick heard Strange mutter under his breath, “Maybe she just realized life wasn’t worth living.” None of the others heard it. Nick pretended he didn’t, either.

But the comment resonated in his head for the rest of the day.

————

This was not going to be comfortable. This was not going to be easy. Nick hated that he, of all people, had noticed. Had no one else seen it?

It only took another day to push his discomfort aside. “It’s not about you,” he mumbled to himself in the mirror in the early morning. “Strange needs help.” And he was a doctor, first and foremost. And doctors helped people in need.

He wanted to speak with Strange outside the hospital, in a neutral place for them both. The only problem was that he never saw the man outside of work and he had no idea how to approach him.

The opportunity came a few days later when Nick was already performing surgery while on call. Another emergency craniotomy was required and Strange stepped in at Christine’s request while Nick was unavailable. It was as good a reason as any.

“Thank you for taking that patient yesterday,” he said in greeting the next morning.

Strange looked up from his computer, surprise crossing his features. He looked tired. “No surgeon can be in two surgeries at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, I appreciate it,” Nick said. “I know you’re not fond of the ER.”

“A butcher shop.”

He ignored the comment. “So I’d like to thank you. You free after work? Dinner’s on me.”

The other man stared at him. “You want to have dinner,” he said flatly.

“As colleagues,” he added, hopefully unnecessarily, because really? “I’m trying to be nice and show my appreciation, Strange. Don’t be an ass about it and just say yes.”

Strange lifted his brows high, but the fuel to his ego did the trick. “Yeah, sure. Got any place in mind?”

Nick shrugged. “There’s a good Italian place three blocks south of us.”

“Italian’s fine.”

“Cool. See you later.” He ignored the expression on Strange’s face and took his leave.

—————

The walk from the hospital to the restaurant was a bit of an uncomfortable one, but Nick wasn’t certain if it was mostly one-sided or not; Strange was more or less expressionless. He only tried to instigate conversation once throughout the walk, but it trailed off to silence before they reached the second block, so Nick decided then to save all attempts at conversation for dinner.

It was going to be hard enough then.

After they arrived and were seated, he also decided to wait until they had finished eating before approaching the topic. Maybe the food would relax the nerves in his gut.

So in the meantime he talked shop. It had been some time since either of them had discussed their cases with each other, so he figured that it was a safe enough conversation topic until the end of the meal.

Unfortunately Strange, bastard that he was, threw him off his planned course. It was just after they ordered food; both had a glass of wine and their waiter had already set down a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping. Strange caught Nick as the latter was ripping off a piece of bread to smother in the dipping oil.

“What is this really about?” he asked.

Nick paused mid-dip. “What?”

“All this.” He waved an arm to gesture to the restaurant. “I’ve helped in the ER several times when your hands were full. What is this actually about?”

He set his bread on his plate, frowning. “You can’t wait until after we eat?”

Strange raised a brow. “Consider yourself fortunate I said yes to this at all. I only came because, admittedly, I’m curious; I cannot begin to guess what you could possibly want to talk to me about outside of work.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick sighed and set his elbows on the table. He pressed his lips against his closed fists as he figured out how to start. All the while, Strange stared at him with an odd mix of exasperation and puzzlement. “You…” he started slowly. He trailed off.

“Me,” said Strange.

Fuck it. “You’ve been off lately.”

His brows shot up. “Off?”

“Yeah, off. Not yourself. Different.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly that. You’re acting differently lately. For a while, apparently.”

He bristled in clear irritation. “If you’re just going to waste my time—”

“You don’t enjoy your work anymore.”

That shut him up. Nick continued in the silence. “You used to always enter and exit your operations with this excitement that echoed down the halls. That’s completely gone.”

Strange recovered his voice. “If you’re implying that my work has suffered—”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “Not at all. This isn’t about the quality of your work; this is about you.” Strange didn’t have an immediate retort to that, so Nick continued, “Or maybe it’s not about you but about this man that’s taken over you the last several months. That man is clearly not eating and sleeping well, barely comes out of his office, hasn’t bragged about his newest studies and speeches in months, and mutters about life not being worth living at lunchtime.”

His colleague’s mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how to speak. Nick couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes, either. Before he completely lost his nerve, he said one last observation. “And that man,” he muttered, “had his stomach pumped two months ago, and those circumstances combined with the rest paint a picture of a man who… might be a bit lost.”

Something raw flashed through Strange’s eyes that made him appear more vulnerable than Nick’s ever seen him before. That brought on a strange and discomforting feeling that joined the rest of the jumbled nerves in his stomach.

Quickly he continued, “You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not demanding anything from you. I just wanted to say that— no matter what differences we have— that if you do need someone for— for anything— that I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen.”

He fell silent, and still Strange didn’t say anything immediately, which was unusual in itself. Nick wasn’t sure if he should continue looking at him or if he should look away, or what.

And thank God, dinner arrived and gave him the perfect reason to look away and leave Strange to his thoughts.

The silence sat for the remainder of the meal. Strange didn’t eat much (though he couldn’t blame him) but also didn’t leave. Nick didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

Still, he had one last thing to say.

After he paid the bill, he pulled a card from his wallet as he stood up. “She came with high recommendations,” he said as he put down the card of a therapist that most certainly did not work at Metro-General. “Think about it.” With that, he took his leave, allowing Strange time alone to dwell on what he said.

————

When they next saw each other at work, neither of them made any indication to each other that they had dinner last night. Their last conversation never crossed the threshold of the hospital. Strange never called him, and Nick never inquired about his well being more than he did any other coworker.

But a few months later, when he got word that Strange was starting his music challenge games in his operations once more, Nick allowed himself a small smile at the news.

#doctor strange fanfic #stephenstrangebingo #doctor strange #stephen strange #nick west #my writing #my fanfiction #prompt fill #tw: suicide #tw: mental health #Anonymous

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queensdivas · 5 years

Text

A Damned Soul Chapter 1 (Gwil Fic)

So something new has popped out of my brain earlier this week and one thing that I love to do is avoid homework and papers as much as I possibly can!

I’m warning yall right now! This isn’t gonna be a light hearted fan fic! It’s got witches, vampires, magic, death, fluff, angst and of course and eventually...smut! I’m really gonna have fun with this one because I enjoy learning and writing everything under the sun.

I also will be posting this on Wattpad if it’s easier for you to read there instead of here. (TOTH-Girl is my username on Wattpad). If you would like to be tagged just let me know and I will be more than happy to tag you!

Here we go ladies and gents..I hope you all enjoy this possible train wreck of a fic!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

@mexifangorl @leah-halliwell92 @bonafiderocketqueen

The flame crackles,

Spitting shining sparks

And ashes and fire

Into the warming air.

It’s always fighting,

It’s Always changing,

Seems always so close

To life.

To it’s burning,

But beyond its brilliance

The fire defies, denies

And defeats it’s death.

Patience, I believe,

Is learned in the view.

Because with strength and defiance,

The coals burn anew.

-Sandra Osborne

I’d like to think that when you’re executed in public it’s because of the fact you’ve done something horribly wrong. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go anyhow? When you’re in the 13th century England.. eh. Not so much. Being a woman is already hard enough in this time. Being a women whose about to be burned at the stake because she's a full blooded witch..just absolutely peachy.

“BURN HER!” The village began to scream as I was beginning to enter the village by the priest. A village that once welcomed me to heal their sick, to help women give birth without passing away, and even teach them simple remedies. And now that a church has brought their God...Well..you see how it’s going now.

Escorted to the top of the wood pile then was shoved against the wooden stake as I just started into the soul of man who dragged me out of my home. The priest...hypocritical bastard! My wrists were bound so tight that it was beginning to cut through my skin already when I tried to at least get somewhat comfortable before I die..and might as well spew the truth and call the priest out for being an absolute hypocrite!

“You poor minded fool who has a twelve year old locked in the basement of the church. Tell me. Doesn’t your God tell you to love all men! To love thy neighbor! Great job at loving thy neighbor you old bastard. I’d like to remind you that your savior Jesus hung around a prostitute in his life when he was preaching your word! Yet he loved her because he preached to love thy neighbor! You are all massive hypocrites who are so caught up in your daft religion that you’ve forgotten the true meaning of love! Go on then! Burn me! It will make you feel better that the only thing you have in your life is religion! I refuse to give you the benefit of me begging for my life!” Screaming to them as moed their torches towards the oil soaked wood. The priest opened his bible to start spewing bible verses from the wretched book!

“I condemn they to die by fire for going against the nature of God's will! By the spirit of judgement and the spirit of burning! For it is on this day that atonement shall be made for you to cleanse you! You will be cleaned from all your sins before the Lord! Be not conformed to this world! But be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind! That ye may prove what is good, and what is acceptable, and perfect for the will of God! In the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Spirit! May God have mercy on your soul! Any final words before you are taken to the almighty.” His final words echoed in my mind as I looked out into the crowd..

“I’ve been good to you...I’ve been good to all of you as you have been for me. Those who are sane..please hear my final words and I hope that they carry with you through time. Do not follow the path that this priest has laid out because he is a liar...a crook..and no religion should make one kill another! True religion should be love..not execution like this man.” Grinning at the priest as he slammed the Bible shut to walk towards one of the villagers. Yanking the torch from one of them and holding it right over the oil.

“I condemn you to hell!” He screamed then I tried to lean down close to him with my grin still bright.

“Can’t wait to see you down there then.” Leaning back up then taking one last glance through the crowd.

His eyes were glowing red even though he wore a black cloak to hide himself from the audience. Though a normal human wouldn’t be able to see this, but I could see him in complete rage. He’s smart enough to know that stepping in would only kill him in the end...he’s already lost most of energy for being outside in the first place.

We just...we never get the timing right in our lives.. it’s in the end when everything begins playing back again..and again…

~~~~~

The last book from the moving back fit perfectly on the shelf! Nieve floated the last jar of sunflower seeds up to the top of the seed shelf. Now all that’s left is to bless and protect the new building then step up the tablet for payment and we’re open for business!

Nieve yanked down the tapestry we had over the wall to reveal the new mural she had painted on the only empty wall space we have that’s not a bookshelf. The mural was a woman out in a very high grass field with the sun setting. The setting was a very green blue that had white clouds spread across the entire wall.

“Probably my best work since Campbelltown.” Nodding in agreement as I slid down the ladder so I could see the mural and all its glory.

“Beautiful. Nice job Nieve.” Telling her as she put her arm on my shoulder.

“Is everything ready?” She walked over to her pile of brushes so that she could start cleaning up before we open.

“All that’s left is setting up the tablet. Spices and herbs are on the shelves, books in place, and the reading table is all set to go.” It’s not that I don’t mind that I do most of the work for setting up the shop. I love setting it up because everything has a place and needs to be done right. Sort of a perfectionist.

“Tell ya what. You get the tablet all set up and I’ll get the place ready for casting out the bad jujus. Should I use cedar or pine this time?” She walked into the back and began cleaning her brushes.

“Cedar.” Yelling back as I took a glimpse around the shop for a moment. Shop number four I believe now. Don’t think that we go absolutely bankrupt then move on to the next town. On the contrary. As witches we can make our own money if done right and it was our last order given through our teacher Madame Rouge.

Madame Rouge was our mentor who trained us in the ways of becoming a grande witch. She would always move her shops to small towards across the Uk and even Ireland some times. The ultimate goal of moving around constantly is that we help fellow witches and warlocks who either hide in the shadows from the world or even help them with perfecting their spells.

But all good things must come to an end. One night Madame Rouge decided to take the evening off so she could rest and we found her passed away in the night with a note for her after life instructions. The first goal being that we continue her work on going across the country to help

Madame Rouge was my mentor who helped me with spells, hexes, becoming one with the gifts I’ve acquired. It was as if I found my new home with Madame Rouge and Nieve eventually joined us after she turned 18. But all good things must come to an end. Madame Rouge was reaching the end of her life and told us to go across the country to save other fellow witches and warlocks who are casted out. When she passed away. Nieve and I set off on our journey throughout the entire country with now calling an abandoned library home in Balmedie Scotland!

Finishing up the last few details on the tablet as Nieve closed her book to grab the sage that also had rosemary, juniper, and a hit of cedar in it. Rosemary allows for fresh new starts, juniper for bringing a comfort feeling for us and any new sort of people coming in and out, then the cedar for basically cutting off those bad jujus out of the store.

“You almost ready?” Nodding as I put the tablet onto the stand as I pulled out my rose gold evil eye necklace and grabbed the box of matches from under the counter. She lit the end of the sage as we began with the door and saying the incantation.

“Blessed be that light energy to come..blessed be that good souls wander through our store.” It’s a simple incantation that does the trick about 90% of the time. It’s almost impossible to keep bad juju away from your living dwelling because it’s as powerful as good juju. Besides. Incantations don’t need to be super long anyhow since if you’re in an emergency situation, you won’t have the time to say a one hundred word spell.

Once we finished the doorway, a customer already poked their head in as I let her continue onward with the blessing. It was a very old lady with her tiny pug and came into the store. She looked around for a moment as I approached her with my hands rubbing together.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Le Rouge! Is there anything I can help you with?” She snapped her fingers so the pug would sit then flicking her finger to lock the door to the shop. OH god..did we enter ministry territory?

“My name is Madame Maia Whyte. I’m from The Ministry obviously and I’ve heard about you two through the grapevine. You must be Robin La Torneau and Nieve Macleenan We’ve been watching you two for the past few years. The ministry is very pleased on what you two are trying to do and are sitting very well with us. If you should require anything from us then feel free to give us a call.” A business card came out of her pocket as I looked to see only a number on the card.

“Thank you Madame Whyte. We’ll keep this handy.” Smiling as she nodded then proceeded to leave the shop. Didn’t realize we were causing that much good in the UK anyhow. I know our fellow brothers and sisters over in America are having a difficult time with everyone hating each other.

The Parliament of Witches and Warlocks was formed a little after the 9th century when we were beginning to be cooked alive, being drowned, and hung by humans who were scared of us. But it wasn’t just humans who were coming after us after a while. Would you believe me if I told you vampires are also running around this world of ours causing mayhem? Just sounds unbelievable doesn’t it? We can cross that bridge in the future with that whole long history lesson.

This is it! A new store! A fresh start in a little off the coast town. What could possibly happen to us out here!?

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darkpoisonouslove · 5 years

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For the send title Griffin Heat of the moment Long live the queen Three of my fav one shots! Took some thinking to narrow it down!

I am so sorry this took so long, but life got in the way. I had a terrible night on Saturday and really wasn’t in the state of mind to write this yesterday. Also, tumblr ate my response the other day and I’m still mad about it. So it’s been a fun couple of days. Here’s to hoping this answer will cheer us both up!

“Griffin”:

1. I wrote this when I was on vacation but it took me a while to edit it before I could post it. It was a spontaneous idea that I was so excited to start writing that I stayed up late for it (pretty sure I went to bed at, like, 3:30am because of this).

2. As I’ve mentioned before, it was inspired by “I Fell in Love with the Devil” by Avril Lavigne (damn, I love the song and the video) and my own thought process while I was listening to it. My brain just went “Hey, how cool do you think it will be if Griffin tried to summon the devil aka Valtor and then fell in love with him but it had a tragic ending bc it’s them obvs?” And I went “Yeah, I think that would be pretty cool.” So I just went with it but since I wanted it to keep the winx-verse feeling even despite it being an AU, I decided that Valtor would be known as the all-powerful Dark Dragon which is sort of an equivalent to the devil but not quite. He has all the knowledge on magic and is prone to wrecking havoc everywhere he goes, but minus the ruling hell thing. He’s not ruling anything, he was trapped. Because we needed a summoning ritual in this. Who doesn’t love summoning rituals?

3. Speaking of which, I don’t know how I made those up, but I’m really glad I did. The obsidian idea just came to me but when I did some research, what do you know? It was perfect. And I also managed to tie it in with the Obsidian dimension. I love doing AUs because it gives me so many opportunities to play around with canon details and put them in a new perspective and mold them until they fit this new universe I’ve come up with. It’s my favorite part of writing AUs. The hair thing I know from my mom, a book I read (”A Discovery of Witches”, I think) and internet confirmed. And the tears I just thought would add to the aesthetic and provide some insight into Griffin’s head.

4. I chose the title “Griffin” because this fic mainly deals with the essence of Griffin, with what makes her who she is. Also, I did some research on griffins and they are supposed to be protectors so that also fit in super nicely. I am very proud with the version of Griffin I’ve built in this fic. There is so much anger and desperation in her but that in no way changes the fact that she is actually a good person. Which is why this: “She was strong enough to be a protector. Even with her pain. Even with her rage. Even with her darkness.” is my favorite quote from the fic. I was in a dark place at the time I wrote this and it was important for me to remember that.

5. I also love how Valtor turned out in this fic. He’s mysterious and clearly dangerous but also alluring enough for Griffin to ignore the warning signs. And while it’s clear that he was using her, it isn’t clear what he feels about her. He does feel about her. Maybe not love but he certainly feels a lot about her. She was the only one who managed to summon him (aka rescue him) from Omega so he is intrigued by her powers as well as by the interaction of light and dark within her soul. That is the reason why I have considered writing a companion piece to this fic that is from Valtor’s point of view (there certainly is enough unexplored material on that timeline (I only gave the beginning and ending (is it?) of that relationship)), but I’ve discarded the idea as many times as I have entertained it (until now?). I really have other more pressing things that need taking care of rn but I might reconsider it again when I have more time (will a moment like that ever come?) since I had some new thoughts about it now.

“Heat of the Moment”:

1. This was actually the third Winx Club fanfic I wrote but I posted it as the second one since chapter one of “Warmth of Rage, Cold of Love” wasn’t edited yet at the time.

2. It was actually written at the same day as “Fire and Ice” but it took me a lot of time to get it up on FFN because I didn’t want to post it at first. It was veering on smut so I wasn’t sure how people would react to it. Which is why it makes me so happy to hear that you love that story so much, considering all the doubts I had around it (it was also the first time I was writing about them in the past and we didn’t see anything of their interactions back then on the show so it was pretty much a shot in the dark there).

3. Do you know that amazing moment when you want to write something steamy but you’re not comfortable with smut in this particular situation for whatever reason? This fic is the embodiment of that. Which is why it ended up as dry humping. That’s always my go-to thing in a situation like that. Not actual sex, but you get all the intimacy of sex in it. It’s a win-win (and also hot).

4. I probably would’ve gotten discouraged and would’ve quit writing for the Winx fandom after I posted that one because it didn’t get any attention in weeks. The thing that actually kept me going and not just motivated, but excited me to keep writing for Winx was @her-majesty-wears-jeans‘ review.

5. The whole fic is constructed the way it is because I’m convinced that Valtor loved messing with Griffin in every way possible and that it always set off a competition of wills between the two of them.

“Long Live the Queen”:

1. I was bursting with creative energy and just didn’t know what to work on (not for a lack of ideas but because none of those I already had sparked my interest (I think I had idea-fatigue for all of the wips I already had). So I just picked song lyrics and wrote a fic. How do I do this? It certainly is a mystery to me.

2. So it was all total chance there. I was listening to music on YouTube and when the song ended, the suggestions showed up. One of them was a lyric video for Halsey’s “Young God” (which is totally their story in the past, I mean, come on!) and the thumbnail had the lyric “I’m the king and you’re the queen”. So I just took that and rolled with it.

3. I didn’t think it a big deal because I honestly wasn’t planning on posting the thing. I was frustrated with myself that day and was pretty sure that it wouldn’t be good anyway. And then what do you know? It was good. It was better than good. I actually loved the result. So I decided to post it after all.

4. That last paragraph was on the line until the last moment I posted it. I only added it on the last round of edits and wasn’t really sure about it. I almost deleted it a few times, but, ultimately, I decided to leave it be.

5. I had some random thoughts about what happened after Griffin took the crown. Since it will get so out of control with the length if I try to write this (and I really don’t have the time for that), I’ll just write them out here. In short because I forgot some details that were kind of important. Also, angst alert.

Griffin and Valtor start ruling Domino and Griffin’s worries prove to be true. Valtor is… well, not that he’s not listening to her but in a situation that needs improvisation, he always makes the wrong move. He’s listening to her, he’s just not listening to common sense. He’s angry and powerful and it’s not a good combination.

On top of that, Faragonda shows up at the Domino palace to look for Griffin because she is convinced that Valtor is mind-controlling her. Griffin barely manages to convince Valtor not to hurt Faragonda. He’s suspicious of her because he thinks she’s come to gather intel, but Griffin tells him that Faragonda is there because she’s worried about her.

They form a sort of flimsy truce that allows Faragonda to come visit Griffin so that she won’t be so lonely. And if she spills anything about Valtor and Griffin (not just about their plans, but in general) to anyone at all, Valtor will make sure she regrets it. Griffin is still unhappy, though, and after overhearing (whether accidentally or not so much) one of her conversations with Faragonda, Valtor understands how much the whole thing is weighing down on her conscience.

So after one last very tender night with her, he lets her go. He can’t run away with her because that will put her in danger since the Council will want his head. So he’ll stay on Domino and limit the destruction as much as possible, but he wants her to go with Faragonda. They can tell the Council that she was under his spell and that was why she was acting the way she was. They’ve seen enough of what his mark on people can do so that won’t be hard to believe. And it was Faragonda who saved her from it with some fairy dust.

Griffin doesn’t want to leave him, but she does because she can’t take any more of what he’s doing. Faragonda hides her in Alfea where a few weeks later Griffin finds out she’s pregnant. It turns out Faragonda knew all along (Valtor told her when he called her to escort Griffin to Alfea and gave her a letter for Griffin because he knew that if Griffin knew she was pregnant with his daughter, she would never leave his side). The letter tells her under no circumstances to tell anyone that the baby is his daughter. She is supposed to pretend that that is the heiress of Domino who was born just before Valtor attacked and that he’d been keeping her hibernated (which is why she hasn’t aged and is still a newborn) until they found her. It took them months to get her out of that state which would give Griffin the time to give birth to the baby. And the real heiress of Domino is stuck on Earth with her way back to the magical dimension severed by Valtor’s spell. And it will remain so as long as the Dark Dragon Fire is burning.

So Darcy grows in Alfea, pretending that she is a fairy her whole life. And her power of illusions helps her keep up the charade with Griffin and Faragonda guiding her through the discovery of her magic and helping her understand both light and dark magic so that she can pretend to be a fairy and learn how to control her actual powers. And a little bit of glamor helps hide the family resemblance between her and Griffin. She knows the truth about herself and her father but she keeps all of that hidden like her mother insists.

When she turns sixteen, Valtor appears to tell her she is to take the throne of Domino, defeat him and “claim her birthright”. He gives them a part of the embers the Ancestral Witches used to make him and tells them that that is the evidence of his defeat they are to present to the Council. And he will disappear for he can’t stay with them, no matter how much he wants to. It will put them both at risk if anyone discovers the ruse.

Griffin sees how much of his body mass is missing and follows him to learn what he’s done and where he found the ember. Valtor tells her that he cut off his wings in demon form and made them return to their original form. However, that also had consequences for his human form and he’s dying. He’s pretty sure what he did messed with his internal organs and he doesn’t have much more to live. But he doesn’t regret anything if it means that Darcy will finally be safe and happy. And once she builds her reputation and convinces everyone she’s not a threat, she’ll be able to drop the disguise.

Griffin knows that will never be the case. She’s seen clearly all these years to differ from him. They can never drop the pretense for the Council will be after them immediately. And with Valtor dying in her arms, she’s not sure if Darcy can protect herself. She’s never used the full potential of her Dragon Fire and Griffin fears it is too late for her to do it. She fears that having to pretend to be someone else her whole life has destroyed who Darcy actually was. And she fears that it is all her fault. Because she took that crown when she shouldn’t have. When she knew it was the wrong choice.

So after Valtor is dead, Griffin sets out to find out how to bring the actual heiress of Domino back to the magical dimension in hopes that if the two kinds of fire mix and both girls learn to control them, the Council will not hunt down her daughter. A perfect mix of light and darkness is her only exit. But can she be sure that she can achieve it now when she couldn’t years ago and that was what set off the whole chain of events?

So this was longer than I expected but I like how it turned out. Except for the insane levels of angst which I’m pretty sure we’re all used to, but that still doesn’t make them any less painful. Anyway, hope this makes up for the delay!

#ask #silverdragonstarlight #griffin #heat of the moment #long live the queen #griffin x valtor #winx darcy

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allronix · 7 years

Note

Salty asks: 1-27.

Assuming this is the fandom of your namesake.

1. OTP that I just don’t get. Probably Sam/Tron. Not to say some folks can’t REALLY fucking rock it (see the “We Are Pilots” verse), but it takes a lot of work. Their only meeting in canon was in a duel to the death with the Program being brainwashed and crazy, and Sam has very little if any reason to even like the guy, even in a post-Legacy setup.

2, Fandom OTP I only BroTP: Probably Tron/Ram. Ram had too much chemistry with Flynn, and Tron was single-minded enough about Yori to put his deity on hold. While I can very easily see group marriage as a normal part of Program society, it’s not something I can see in canonical circumstances.

3. Unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Nope. But if they trash my faves, I hope they can back up their dislike with a very good argument.

4. A NoTP for my fandom. Not touching Sam/Alan with a 10-meter Rod Primitive. The age gap for one, the paternal role Alan took for two, the fact Lora is not dead in this timeline third, the fourth is the possibility of OT3: Shall We Dance making this ship even more brain-breaking.

5. Has fandom ruined a pairing for me? Not in this fandom, but I’ve avoided the hell out of some shows because I saw the fandom for them was such a big ball of crazy that I wanted to avoid it like kryptonite.

6. Has fandom made me enjoy a pairing I previously hated? I’m not sure if it’s a good thing, and I’m not sure I’d call it “enjoy,” but there are some Clu/”Rinzler” fics that almost make the whole thing come out as something marginally less squicky and more interesting than “sadist and his sex slave.”

7. Anything I used to like but dislike now? Y’know, I kinda used to dig Flynn/Alan slash. But after I realized I could make a drinking game out of them (take a shot if they mention Lora, chug the whole thing if they mention Jordan - stay sober the whole night), they lost a lot of appeal. I’ll make an exception for “Shall We Dance” scenarios. Heck, I love Shall We Dance because it’s a very different matter if Lora’s aware and on board with the whole thing. Heck, if someone upgrades it to an Ot4 of “Shall We Dance With Jordan,” then I owe them a six-pack of top-quality beer or cane-sugar soda and my enthusiastic gratitude.

8. Anon hate? Yes. Received it. But over politics, not fandom. It’s to be expected. The Galaxy Rangers list used to have “don’t talk to Allronix about politics” as one of the bylaws.

9. Most hated character? Probably Pavel. He’s such a transparent slimeball with little in the way of interesting motivation. Tesler? While he’s a nasty piece of work, there’s wiggle room to argue that he’s doing what he’s doing for the good of the system and doesn’t like doing what he does. Sark? Incredible ham and definitely one note, but David Warner plays the best creeps ever. (He out-creeped Malcolm McDowell, that’s near-impossible)

10. Most disliked arc. Probably the Isos. I’m still not sure what they were, or why they were special or what was so great about them, or how they would change everything, aside from the implication they were partly biological. Which is great and all, but the way it was handled has an “organics rule, synthethics drool” vibe that is pretty insulting when everything else in the franchise shows that the Programs are just as capable of love, hate, morality, humor, and free will as the humans who built them.

11. Unpopular character I like that the fandom doesn’t? I just had to have the bad luck…or the good luck…to latch on very hard to the Tron 2.0 characters. Good luck in that it’s unexplored territory. Bad luck in that I seem to be the only one who writes Mercury, or Crown, or I-No.

12. Unpopular arc I like the fandom doesn’t? 2.0 again. What got me about it is that the 1982 and Legacy films dealt with malevolent AI who were cruel of other AI and wanted to extend the cruelty. 2.0 inverted it; the uncorrupted Programs were, with very few exceptions, wanting to protect themselves and their home. The corrupted Programs were driven insane by a User who embraced the worst parts of the role. And then you had F-Con who planned to crank that up even more so that they could rule both worlds from the shadows. It really needed to be explored more, as it was a great start.

13. Unpopular opinion about a character: Sam Flynn kinda spooks me. He has no reason to be merciful or benevolent to Programs. As far as he saw, his dad believed in them, and they stabbed his dad in the back, kept his dad away from him, tried to kill him, tried to kill Quorra, killed all of Quorra’s people, and eventually killed his dad right in front of him. And he’s taking over command of a software company with barely any time to process that trauma. It’s probably not going to end well for the Programs unless something intervenes.

14. Unpopular opinion about the fandom: They have very little interest in reclaiming the female characters from the margins, and that’s quite frustrating. Quorra and Paige get some fics here and there, but even those petered out. Yes, this fandom is VERY heavily skewed male, but you’ve got Quorra, Paige, Mara, Gorn, Lux, Yori, Lora, Gem, etc. in Legacy canon, and some great potential with Mercury, Ma3a, and Eva Popoff if you import from 2.0. I was hoping to see at least SOMEONE write up a fanfic about Jordan. What kind of woman could handle a brilliant, cheerful, crazy ball of energy like 80′s!Flynn?

15. Unpopular opinion about the canon: Legacy is very difficult for me to watch. Even though it totally brought the whole thing back from the dead, it’s just frustrating to watch. Not to say everyone didn’t bring their A-game to it, but it took everything that made the first film so much fun and destroyed it, ending up as a depressing waste where everyone loses, and Dillinger Jr is just waiting in the wings to cause even more trouble.

16. If I could change anything about the canon, what to change? Tron 2.0 totally happened. It would not be hard to come up with a workaround for Ma3a that keeps Lora alive. There’s probably about three or four ways I could come up with other than the made of crack one I’ve got going in my fics.

17. Instead of X happening, I’d go with Y: If you want something other than “instead of 2.0 being thrown out the airlock, it’s part of canon,” I would have loved to see Sam get rescued by Bartik’s crew (Bonus points if Yori’s running the damn thing) and then meet up with his dad and Quorra. That way, there could have been a little more complexity to the Grid situation and a way to avoid the whole “Programs are evil!” thing Legacy ended up with.

18. Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased? Shipping, IMO is shorthand for schools of character interpretation. Someone who ships Quorra/Sam is going to have a different take than someone who ships Quorra/Zues, or Quorra/Paige. They’re all looking at the same data, but the interpretation of the data is going to vary.

19. One thing I dislike most about my fandom: It’s a back alley of the 80′s that its own company barely wants to admit they did. This makes canon and newcomers a little hard to come by.

20. Purest ship in the fandom. Tron/Yori was my first OTP. They’re still my OTP, because 82!Tron was such a sweet, earnest dork and Yori was such an adorable, sneaky badass. Post-Legacy? It’s going to be one heck of a climb no matter which guess you take about Yori’s fate (And seriously? Morgan got gypped), but having those two limp off into whatever digital sunset there is would be the closest we get to a happy ending that’s canon-compatible.

21. Crack ships? A crack ship for the sake of a crack ship is a “no thanks!” But there are ships that look like someone did them on a three-drink dare that actually manage to work. I’m thinking to KOTOR fandom where someone made a REALLY awesome case for Canderous/Bastila that should not have worked and totally did.

22. Popular character I dislike: It’s not so much “dislike” as “I’m not sure what to make of them.” Really wanted some development on Sam. Quorra got Evolution and a nice episode of Uprising, but Sam…he’s still a bit of a blank to me.

23. Unpopular character I adore: I especially latched on hard to Jet Bradley after reading the Ghost in the Machine comic because he had clearly done a lot of thinking about what being a User means in that setting, and was bringing up points no one else bothered with. As such, he makes an excellent foil and walking deconstruction fleet while still being, ostensibly, one of the good guys.

24. Would I recommend Tron to a friend? Only with a ton of disclaimers. This was made in the EARLY 80′s, by people who apparently had no fucking idea what they were doing, and Disney probably signed off on it while under the influence of something. But the combination ends up as something inexplicably brilliant and probably launched thousands of computer animation careers and hundreds more IT careers.

25. How would I end it? I’ve got fics in mind for it. I kitbash 2.0 and Legacy shamelessly. The ending I have in mind? Well, Alan and Lora end up giving up their lives in analog to rebuild the Rome Flynn started. Jet ends up dedicating his life to serving the Programs and goes a bit native. Mercury and Tron act as the primary “knights” of Alan and Lora. Sam and Quorra handle much of the rest in the analog world, slowly trying to open up the world and make it ready for the revelation of the digital one. And Yori runs a reformation of the Program religion so that they are prepared to accept the Users as fallible beings who are still powerful, but less “worship as deity” and more “we depend on one another - don’t screw it up.”

26. Most shippable character? Probably Flynn. I can see him as a fellow who would (prior to the coup) enjoy himself and his opportunities to the fullest, including trying anything twice sexually.

27. Least shippable character: Probably Esomond Baza. He’s a coward with so little self-esteem, self-respect, or a moral compass that he needs a few months of therapy before even thinking of a date.

#tron #tron legacy #tron uprising #tron 2.0 #ask post #salty fandoms

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