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punkpandapatrixk · 2 months

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🪷Sacred Lotus Within You ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘If you only do what you can do, you will never be more than what you are now.’

‘I don’t wanna be more! I like who I am.’

‘You don’t even know who you are.’

‘What do you— Of course I do; I’m the Dragon Warrior!’

‘And what exactly does that mean—Dragon Warrior?’

— Po and Shifu’s conversation from Kung Fu Panda 3

SONG: Pure Imagination by Gene Wilder

MOVIE: Kung Fu Panda 3 (2016)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

A hard Life is not always a divine punishment of sort⛈More often than not, the Universe’s most advanced Souls choose to be born—as Humans—into much sorrow and a perceived sense of limitation just for the joy of experiencing a personal breakthrough out of a cycle of—both—good and bad Karma🍄

Seen from a Soul’s perspective, all events in this mortal world are just drama. drama. drama~🎭It’s so exciting to co-Create massive stories with other Souls in this theatre of the Universe🎪This Play in itself, a spiritual evolution of sort for all beings of Love and Light🩰

This world is at best the dream of a Butterfly🦋Have fun; and have faith that in time all things bloom magnificently like a Sacred Lotus emerging from the mud🪷Ultimately, all of us, we bring with us only memories of our lifetimes when we are done playing our roles in this Grand Experiment of a Cosmic Drama💫

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Peace Maker

VIBE: Master Shifu asking Po to teach him inner peace

seeds of beauty in you – 10 of Pentacles Rx

Encoded in your DNA is the very gift of healing itself. You were born into this world of stupid carrying seeds of peace-making. Yup, you were the kid who was always able to tell when a grownup was lying. Like, OMG, so disrespectful…they think I can’t see through such obvious lies? In fact, too many things were obvious to you because you are gifted with a keen ability of observation. We’re talking superhuman-level observation, baby~

With that, the world around you was often terribly dull. You’re definitely the type that wants to travel and see the world for yourself. Wanting to see what other people of different nations and races, customs and cultures, even religions, have to share about what this Life is all about~ You had A LOT of questions!

Alas… You soon realised that most people’s perceptions, priorities, and overall ways of life are low-quality at best. Your interactions with people, your observations of them, gave you almost nothing but disdain. People…are not intelligent enough. But more disturbing still…people are not noble enough in their pursuits of a good Life.

In your eye, most of the time, people don’t have enough integrity, character, or personality🤷🏻‍♀️

blooming in spite of muddy water – 7 of Pentacles Rx

If you’re often distressed by the state of Humanity, it is because you possess this divine ability to pierce through bullshit and reveal the true essence of all things. You’re a deep diver. You truly are a scholar. You’re the type that seeks to bridge between differences and clashes, so that people find a common ground upon which they could build a harmonious society. You most likely have a significant placement in the 7th House or blessed with a strong Libra/Venus aenergy~⚖️

Essentially, you’ve come into this world with an almost specific purpose of bridging differences between generations. All because your Oversoul was sick of watching Humans being fools amongst themselves. So you plunged into this world of illusions in the hopes of elevating people’s spiritual intelligence. Your unique gift of observation is piercing and high-vibrational and the reason it can bridge generations is that the wisdom you will develop as a person is both universal and timeless💎

You are an Ascended Master, you know. Like Po returning to the mortal world after defeating Kai. Like Gandalf the Grey returning as Gandalf the White after defeating the Balrog. All because you’ve got shit to do in this world of stupid—your wisdom is gravely needed! I’m not teaching you to be conceited or anything, but by means of technicality, you’re not here to learn anymore; you’re here to…teach🤣

tulips of happiness – Knight of Cups

No matter your age or their age, you’re here to teach the infantile Humans about inner peace and true, everlasting, sustainable, manageable, actually reasonable sense of Harmony🌷You do that by setting an example; by first bridging confusions and calming down chaos within yourself; then you talk about the walk to anybody interested enough to listen to you🌾

In this lifetime, as an Ascended Master playing Human, there’s probably a lot of heartache you’ve needed to learn to forgive. If you’re in your early or mid-20s when reading this, you’re most likely just beginning to learn it. You don’t have to act perfectly though. Healing and forgiveness are not about being or doing perfect. It’s perfectly OK, too, not to forgive—certain cruelties in this world are simply beyond absolution, ya know?🤬

What does truly matter is that you forgive yourself. Just yourself. You can forgive the situation. You can forgive the fact you fucked your way into this or that mess. Where applicable, you can give thanks to the experience and then move on to the next thing. Be glad about the fact that you’re still alive after all of the fuckery, and that you’ve enough self-awareness, and how that self-awareness has grown you as a person. It is such a beautiful thing to have grown up in the mental and spiritual~🦉

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻💜

the script you chose – Silver Alchemist (Ramon Llull)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Pink Radiance

VIBE: Master Oogway sending universe mail to Li Shan

seeds of beauty in you – III The Empress Rx

Oooh~ You’re pretty~ That much I can tell🙊You probably are blessed with some significant Aries, Aquarius, or any Cardinal aenergy in your birth chart; could also have Venus/Moon in the 1st or 11th House~ And do you know why you’re bestowed with an outer appearance that’s easily considered attractive in this realm? Because you’re meant to have an audience🎙

You’re meant to be heard; to have a platform and be some sort of a leader. And since being pretty in this world brings a lot of privileges, your Soul chose to be born with this specific setting in your birth chart wHoA~ A pretty face gets attention more effortlessly and that’s just how it is with this world~🙈

So, you see that there’s meaning in having some forms of privilege whether it’s your face or your family/economic background, or even heritage or some special lineage thing going on in your Life🎰And yet, it seems you could’ve been blind to all this ‘upper hand’ and not see much value in your existence.

None of this has felt all that special…well, because you were born with it. It’s not special; it’s normal to you; and you definitely want to feel special…not really grasping others would kill to have what you were born with…🐞

blooming in spite of muddy water – XVI The Tower

In spite of all of the privileges that seem obvious and enviable to others, you yourself have not felt all that blessed most of your Life. There is this thing that people don’t understand about you: EXPECTAFUCKINTION. Expectation could kill, depending on situation, and depending on where you are in Life. In many ways, you haven’t really ever felt FREE in your beingness. You don’t really know how FREE truly would feel like. You can imagine it, but you don’t really know if that’s even real🤷🏻‍♀️

Whether it’s status, prestige, or simply beauty, sometimes you’ve felt victimised by the very things other people wish they had. They literally don’t know how suffocating it is to be wearing your crown~ You often feel like you don’t have autonomy over your own Life. In some instances, you may even have experienced your autonomy getting violated. And it’s so heartbreaking.

At some point in Life, you will suddenly and gradually lose access to all of these beauties and privileges, maybe even some of your talents, babe. All these things that came ever so naturally to you, once you’ve lost ‘em, you will die in spirit, and be reborn with a renewed sense of appreciation for the fact you have always, ALWAYS, been extraordinary👿

tulips of happiness – King of Swords

Whether you are a girl or a boy or straight or gay or whatever, you are an ally of the world’s Divine Feminine aenergy. Do not worry about losing your glory; it will aaalll come back stronger and sparklier once you’ve graduated the University of Hell a.k.a Saturn Return🪐

It is part of your Soul’s Blueprint to experience losing privileges, perhaps money, talents, friends, freedom, hair, weight, and everything else, momentarily. This period of your Life—whether it’s your first or second Saturn Return—can be likened to a pregnant woman who’s now restricted from drinking, eating, doing, or even being near certain things. She’s not so free, but for all the right reasons; she’s protecting her foetus.

This Saturn Return period of your Life where you’re experiencing losing yourself is like a pregnancy where you’re gestating a newer, stronger, clearer, more confident version of yourself. The restrictions put around you are meant to suffocate you further, enough for you to want a breakthrough. All so you can become a pure Pink Radiance of a miracle this miserable world needs, for that is your purpose for being born🌷

Shine on, Pink Diamond~

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻💗

the script you chose – Green Historian (Herodotus)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Prosperity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Magic Worker

VIBE: Po teaching the tribe to be THEMSELVES

seeds of beauty in you – 9 of Cups Rx

Within you are seeds of a luxurious lifestyle that you ought to nurture slowly throughout the course of your Life. You may have come from a background of lack just to make this whole scenario more exciting (to us as Souls contrasts are exceedingly attractive when thinking of a spiritual breakthrough). With that, you could’ve grown up with lots of daydreaming about feeling fulfilled—emotionally fulfilled.

Though you may have daydreamed about luxurious environments and things and situations, at the core of everything, all you yearn for is a feeling of safety; stability; of having just enough…of being enough, in fact…all because you weren’t emotionally nurtured as a child. You were the kid who were neglected by everybody, both the adults and your peers.

You felt unseen most of your Life. But even those who acted like they saw you, somehow the view was inaccurate. You felt this way because you didn’t understand yourself either. Children learn about themselves through the feedback of their environment; so the ones who were mostly neglected…how could such children even begin to learn to comprehend their identity?

Because you didn’t really understand yourself, it was difficult to manifest properly. In your psyche, there are way too many threads of wishes that are tangled up, causing you to manifest clashing Realities…and then disappoint you…

blooming in spite of muddy water – XXI The World

The reason for this difficulty is that you needed to learn and discover for yourself the true Essence of being alive. You are essentially God’s messenger to help Humans overcome their addiction to material possessions. Omaigosh if you know how TikTok shopping culture is making people poorer and more miserable in the emotional, I’m sure this will ring a bell in your Soul Memory.

People who grew up poor are the main target of evil marketing because they crave that feeling of ‘having’. Sometimes, it’s a feeling of having things—trendy things; some other times, it’s a feeling of having friends—cool friends; and some tragical times, of having someone to love—which usually only translates to ONS or casual hookups without any real emotional connection.

Anyway, back to talking about material possessions though, there’s this:

‘Trying to be happy by accumulating possessions is like trying to satisfy hunger by taping sandwiches all over your body.’ – George Carlin

This, is a concept, a Reality, you’ve needed to learn and fully comprehend, and then unravel by means of your personal spiritual transformation. That way you can be an example and a guide to others. Reminiscent of Uncle George himself, you’re somebody who holds an Elder Archetype aenergy about you. You’re ‘worldly’ in the sense that you’re based, well-thinking, and most of all, you can embrace perspectives that are UNIQUE. You’re able to hold a knowledge that encompasses the whole of the Universe itself.

tulips of happiness – 4 of Pentacles

In a sense, know that you are a born leader. Though I sense, you may be more interested in being a thought leader🧠You don’t seem that interested in leading an envoy or a movement of any sort hahaha You’re a loner; you like being in your own company. After all, people are stupid and it’s exhausting to have to interact with them. And that’s all fine~

In the future, when everything’s said and done, you’ll meet your Soul Tribe—people who are just as weird, misunderstood, deep, sombre (probably), wholesome, complex, and loyal such as yourself🫀Your Spirit Guides are really saying: it’s perfectly fine for you not to extend too much compassion for those who aren’t worth your while; hoping you’d calm down some clashing ideas about your personality.

It sounds cruel? No, really; not everybody is worth paying attention to or share affection with. If you do that you’re only going to be sucked dry of Life Force. It’s a similar principal with money spending. Just because you see a lot of items being displayed with attractive, persuasive DISCOUNT signs, doesn’t mean you have to give your attention, or money least of all, to ALL of that. Got it?🤪

‘Even if something is on discount, if you don’t need it, it’s too expensive.’ – Love Marie Escudero’s husband, Govt. Chiz

ESSENCE OF BEING HUMAN🔻🧡

the script you chose – Green Physician (Paracelsus)

path of self-transcendence – Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

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leandra-winchester · 29 days

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The Tommy timeline is making me insane

We know the 911 writers are REALLY crap about timelines. I mean, just within the Eddie Begins episode there are several dates that just don't add up. I love those writers, but they can't even count to 10, lol.

Tommy was never supposed to come back, so him being in his late 20s-ish in 2005 when Chim joins the 118 was of no consequence, but now that Tommy is back, that makes it really difficult to say how old he really is.

Some people have speculated that he's 45, but I find that too old. Lou was born in Nov 1984, which makes him 39 currently. I could see Tommy being 1-2 years older than that AT MOST.

So let's say Tommy was born in early 1983 and go from there.

He would have started school at 6.5 and finished HS at 18 years old in 2001. Which means he could have joined the army that year and started training to be a helicopter pilot.

There's a program called "From Street to Seat", also sometimes called "High school to Flight School", so that is a possibility. Training would have been around 2 - 2.5 years until he'd achieved the rank of Warranty Officer and be a fully trained helicopter pilot in late 2003. After that, you have to enlist for TEN years at minimum to repay them getting you through flight school.

At that point, the US had entered the war in Afghanistan and just started the one in Iraq.

Tommy could have been stationed anywhere in the US, or been deployed to one of those countries, or at first, as a still very young officer, been deployed to an allied country like Germany. In the early 2000s, there were many bases in Germany where US soldiers were stationed, only serving short missions in Afghanistan or Iraq. So that's an option if we don't want him to be permanently stationed inside a war zone.

Now, how did young Tommy leave the army early so he ended up being a firefighter just two years later?

Well, there's always medical discharge, but if it was for any injury, him already being a member of the team (and by the looks of it no longer a probie) in 2005 is a bit tight. He'd have to recover from his injury, then apply, then be accepted, do the basic training at the academy (18 weeks) and his probie year... so yeah, that's really a very tight timeline.

Another option would have been Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Back then, army members could not be actively asked if they're gay and therefore fired for it, but if they voluntarily disclosed/confirmed it, they would be kicked out.

If he was lucky (and probably the version I'm going for in my fic), and had a very lenient superior officer, he might be offered medical discharge for depression. Usually, that can get you out of the army pretty quickly.

So, to recap:

Born between Jan/June 1983

Finished high school summer 2001, joined the army

Finished flight school in fall 2003, was deployed somewhere or in service in the US

Found out/discharged in early 2004

Started LAFD academy in summer/fall 2004

Started his probie year end of 2004

Just finished it when Chimney joined in (should be late) 2005, at now 22 years old.

Still an incredibly tight timeline, and I wish Chim joining had been more like 2007 or so, but alas. It works.

You are welcome.

And I need to lie down. God I hate inconsistent timelines, lol.

Oh and I just looked it up, and apparently you're only a probie for 6 months at the LAFD, so I guess that makes it a little easier.

I mean, if you shift things around a little, you could even make him only 40 now, born in summer 1983 instead of early. Maybe he was initially gifted and able to enroll in school at just barely 6 years old.

#Tommy Kinard #911

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starcurtain · 3 months

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The Kinda Unhinged Ratiorine Fic I Want to Read

In an (admittedly very contrived) AU situation, Dr. Ratio finds out he's about to be cut out of his (mostly estranged) family's inheritance forever because of his complete lack of interest in continuing the family line. Which, all factors considered, does make perfectly logical sense. Investment of capital should go to the branch of the lineage most likely to benefit from it, and Cousin Tiberius has five sons and daughters already. Let the house and the trust fund go to them.

But the library.

There's absolutely no way Veritas could bear to be permanently parted from the staggering assemblage of paper volumes under his collected family's auspices. Not only would being separated from tomes so full of memories be heart-wrenching, but think of the devastating blow to his research! There are records in those archives that no other mortal eyes have ever gazed upon!

So there's only one solution for it: He needs to pass on his family name, immediately.

(Andddd the rest is under a read more because what is brevity?)

Problem 1: Veritas Ratio is very gay.

Problem 2: Statistically, single men have the lowest chance of being selected for adoption placement, and this Child Welfare Agent is looking at his alabaster head very, very strangely.

Think, Ratio, think. What is the most efficient way to solve such a tedious quandary?

The obvious first step is to increase his likelihood of being selected by the adoption agency, and the quickest way to do that is... Eureka! How elegant a design! He just needs to enter into a (temporary) committed and stable partnership to demonstrate a degree of domestic dedication and home-building prowess!

Problem 3: ...Where in the universe is he going to find a stable and committed man willing to marry him?

Ratio does not exactly possess the world's most endearing personality. He might... never have had any form of romantic relationship lasting past a one-night stand even, because it turns out most people don't like being scored a 2/10 on their technique during intercourse.

So he's probably not going to find a stable and committed man.

But... He might at least find someone willing--for the right price.

Enter Aventurine (stage left). He's as expensive as they come, the greatest reward saved for the highest bidder, but despite his festering ambitions, he's still trapped as nothing more than a high-class escort, owned by a company the IPC has on the books as selling everything but what they actually trade in: Avgin slaves.

Sigonians... The reputation--and sleazy men's curiosity--precedes him, and though he only has to get on his knees for the truly bold nowadays, he hasn't yet been able to make the ultimate gamble, pull the last string needed to finally gain his freedom: the freedom to live his life as he pleases--and to enact every ounce of vengeance he's been storing for decades like cards up his sleeves.

Until now.

Until an absolute madman shows up at the underground headquarters waving around an offer that no average person would possibly make: He wants to buy Aventurine and wed him.

(Because marrying a Sigonian thrall is a safe and sane thing that safe and sane people do.)

The offer is far too good to be trusted: A real marriage certificate but a perfectly fake marriage, a no-fault divorce once an adoption is finalized, and a guaranteed sponsor for his citizenship documents. A year or two of fake homemaking, this Veritas Ratio claims, and then Aventurine can walk away a completely free man, no strings--no chains--attached.

Well, Aventurine of the Myriad Stratagems has always held one skill dearer to his heart than any other: a crystal clear knowledge of when to fold--and when to go all in.

(...Problem 4: Amber Lord help him, Aventurine's new husband is the most irritating man in the entire universe.)

Alas, if only that was their biggest problem. Somewhere between learning to navigate the citizenship process, the adoption process, a truly unacceptable level of systemic racism, and also, increasingly, each other, Ratio and Aventurine discover that the circumstances of their lives might be far more entangled than they ever could have imagined from the beginning, and the same shadowy parties that profited off Aventurine's existence might have a vested interest in parting Ratio from valuable research secrets--permanently.

While struggling to maintain a charming and loving facade and struggling not to kill each other behind the scenes, Aventurine and Ratio also end up having to out-roll and out-plan a particularly dangerous enemy; something they can really only do together.

Or, tl;dr: Dr. Ratio chooses the most efficient but most unhinged method of finding a husband that intelligence could possibly contrive, only to determine that marrying a guy whose track record for unexplained deaths matches his track record for card counting really is the encyclopedic opposite of "committed and stable." Ridiculously enough, the trouble they get into is almost entirely Ratio's fault, the only one who is remotely convincing in front of the Child Welfare Agency is Aventurine, and sometimes it turns out the guy you married for the library ends up being the guy you married for life.

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mitchellpete · 9 months

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KINKTOBER 2023

My first Kinktober and first ever writing challenge! (Wish me luck..) But I’m super excited to see you guys request! Kinks from this list, which was super intimidating (lol). First time I realize English not being my first language is kind of a nuisance because some of those I would have absolutely no clue how to write.. BUT ALAS. I picked these out and hope that they’re fun. Also hope you guys don’t mind that I filled one of them out already but I figured since I’m already writing it for an old request..

Will be updating this as slots get filled, so request away!

Characters I write for are here (plus Iceman who I kind of want to start writing for), but I’m very flexible so if you want to ask about any other characters, please do!

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

Day 1 - Overstimulation

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 2 - Public

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 3 - 69

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 4 - Thigh riding

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 5 - Spanking

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 6 - Cockwarming

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 7 - Blindfold

↳ Vincent | Collateral

Day 8 - Size

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 9 - Praise

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 10 - Handjob

↳ Cole Trickle | Days of Thunder

Day 11 - Cunnilungus

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 12 - Voyeurism

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky & Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 13 - Hate sex

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 14 - Virginity

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 15 - Dirty talk

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 16 - Begging

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 17 - Edging

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 18 - Mirror sex

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 19 - Orgasm denial

↳ Vincent | Collateral

Day 20 - Face sitting

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 21 - Deepthroating

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 22 - Creampie

↳ Tom “Iceman” Kazansky | Top Gun

Day 23 - Bath/shower

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 24 - Bondage

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 25 - Sex toys

↳ Ethan Hunt | Mission: Impossible

Day 26 - Brat taming

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 27 - Fingering

↳ Jerry Maguire

Day 28 - Uniform

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun

Day 29 - Table sex

↳ Pete “Maverick” Mitchell | Top Gun: Maverick

Day 30 - Squirting

↳ Brian Flanagan | Cocktail

Day 31 - Biting

↳ Lestat de Lioncourt | Interview with the Vampire

#pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #maverick x you #top gun maverick fanfic #pete maverick mitchell x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tom cruise x reader #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x reader #ethan hunt x reader #kinktober 2023

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eddies-house · 23 days

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Fourteen - A Merry Little Christmas

W/C: 7.5K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Have yourself a merry little Christmas…

(Cover) Phoebe Bridgers

Warnings: mentions of bad childhood, mentions of parent’s death, issues with mental health, allusion to a suicide attempt, self harm but not, just appears to be, blood, let me know if I missed anything. In all fairness this is a heavy chapter in the beginning. Oh and also, smut 👀

A/N: this took literally forever to write…only because I couldn’t write for like months lmao. But I spent all day basically fleshing most of this all out and there’s a lot of emotion put into it and not too much editing cause I already overthought everything I wrote as I wrote it, dare I say I put my whole fuckin pussy into this chapter. Next chapter will be the final one in the series 😭

Masterlist

Prev |

Christmas Eve was supposed to be different this year.

A senseless daydream.

It was dad’s last kick to his gut, he knows it. Eddie finally had a good thing going for him but alas the Munson’s were cursed and he could never escape. This was some kind of final revenge for not hanging around like a lost puppy though it wasn’t even his choice to leave Hawkins in the first place. It didn’t matter, life never spared Eddie a precious moment.

So he sat there, salty tears still somehow leaking out of him despite how tired he was, despite how wrong it felt. Last week his dad was the most hated man in his life. And last week he was suddenly dead. It didn’t make sense, the devastation that consumed Eddie. All he knew was that sunlight began leaking through the blinds and dotting the floor. Birds were chirping annoyingly outside and his skin started to feel like cold cuts and despite how uncomfortable it made him, he couldn’t find it in himself to get off his ass and at least put a sweatshirt on.

He had promised you breakfast, down the road at that little diner called Reggie’s. Promised to get you the biggest stack of pancakes covered in whipped cream and all kinds of sprinkles along with the best, artery clogging bacon you would ever taste. Maybe some scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.

Whatever you wanted.

He hadn’t seen you in days, not since the recent news broke. His excuse of harboring the flu was not how he wanted to start daily phone calls with you. He knew you would then mistake the stuffiness in his voice for phlegm and not his inner sorrows burrowing their way out of him. He refused your offer to bring him homemade soup and hot tea, rejected the kindness he hadn’t deserved in the first place. Told you that he just wanted to get healthy quickly and it wouldn’t do either of you any good to both be sick. He left you in charge of the bar, much to Jett’s disdain, Eddie didn’t need you to confirm that for him he just knew.

Now just standing up seemed impossible. Shifting his position on the couch to at least relieve the pressure against his tail bone wasn’t plausible. And for what? For a man that never gave an inch when Eddie gave him miles upon miles, practically handed over his life on several occasions. Pathetic, he knew. But the pain didn’t cease and he couldn’t even find it in himself to turn his head to check the time.

This was it.

This was how you were going to come face to face with the fact that Eddie was no man. Not a real one anyway, a facade if anything. He could just picture it: you would await his knock at the door and it wouldn't come. A giddy smile would spread across your face as you thought about your plans of going sledding together–he sees it so vividly in his mind. And then you would be massively disappointed when he couldn’t deliver. The creases at your eyes when you got overly excited would cease to exist at the mere idea of him. He had it coming, he just didn’t think it would be so soon.

Eddie told you he was feeling better. It was a lie. He never had the flu. He didn’t feel better. He wanted to die. And the man responsible for it wouldn’t even give a shit had he still been alive. Now he was dead and Eddie was the one suffering.

And so his neglected stomach grumbled, his incoming stubble itched though he couldn’t find a fuck to give even in his discomfort, and the whiskey bottle ran dry far too soon. His brain had been clogged with wishes and what he could’ve done, then declarations of it never being enough, a constant tug-of-war that migraines were made of.

He never stood a chance, his DNA had always been coded like a mutant, at least that’s how it felt deep in his bones. There was always something off, he never resonated with life in general how everyone else did. A flaw in the system. And he built his entire being off of it, afterall he never had any control over the way he was perceived so what option did he have?

Several.

He thought to himself.

You could have gone to school, shown up.

Could have stayed out of detention.

Gotten arrested less.

Not get arrested at all.

Could have said no. So. Many. Times.

In all honesty he wanted to blame his old man but he couldn’t stop taking the hits for him even in death. He couldn’t stop making excuses. Any normal person would feel relief but he felt nothing but remorse. For what, he couldn’t exactly piece it together. Maybe it was a hidden desire to fix him, a glimmer of hope that he could make him turn his life around like Eddie had. It would never happen, he was well aware, but a certain childish hope clung onto him, tugging on his sleeve, begging himself for reasons.

Until familiar curls similar to his own and an aura of the gentlest kind clouded his vision. He could nearly hear her voice, smooth as butter and warm as the summer sun when he was a freckled kid. Rosy cheeks and beautiful chocolatey brown button eyes to match his.

What’s the matter darlin’?

And he just sobbed. And remembered.

Morning pancakes and the blues. Muddy clothes and bubble baths laced with melodies. Kitchen table haircuts, the softest voice humming in his ears, half inch curls littering the linoleum. Dancing in the living room. Refusing to eat his broccoli until she told him they were tiny trees. Walking hand in hand to the corner store for milk and eggs, the promise of a sucker waiting for him at the cash register widening his innocent grin. Late night cereal bowls when sleep wasn’t an option and nothing did the trick except some off brand Lucky Charms and tales of dragons and fantasy lands he wished they could run away to.

Then he remembered.

Him.

Stumbling into the kitchen on those nights more often than not, spewing nonsense. Breaking the refrigerator door as he tripped while seeking another beer. That door forever being duct taped and never properly fixed as promised. Mama coaxing dad to bed before she slipped into Eddie’s tiny twin bed for the night, most nights. Dad waking up just to shut the music off in the morning so he could sleep in. Disappearing for days.

Mama unexpectedly passing and Eddie being so devastated that he didn’t eat for days and willingly waited at the door every day for pops to get home. Only he rarely did. Wayne checking in each and every day only to be on the receiving end of a temper tantrum each time. Years and years of push back. A clueless kid defending Indiana’s worst dad in the name of seeking some kind of normalcy.

“My dad has a ton of jobs.” He would beam, bright eyes and missing teeth.

The kids would snicker. Their mocking smiles would be mistaken for a token of friendliness. And Eddie would once again be disappointed come the end of the day. Because he’d realized it wasn’t normal to crawl under fences where dad couldn’t fit, to steal expensive things from “higher class pricks” as dad deemed them. Take your kid to work day had a very different definition in his book.

So Eddie steered away from telling everyone about his dad’s work antics, opted to tell them about how he got to go to the bar with his old man every Wednesday, thinking he’d surely get praise for being considered so mature. At least that’s how dad described it. It wasn’t any better and the reactions were only worse. They called his dad a drunk. They weren’t wrong but that didn’t make him feel any less enraged. “Spawn of Satan”, they called Eddie. Because in truth that’s what his dad was, he just couldn’t comprehend it at the time. Then came the christening of his formal title, a word so small but so…derogatory with the way it was spat at him.

Freak.

Spawn of Satan sounded so much worse on paper but Freak made his insides hurt. And as he recounts the events of his life up until now, he tallies everything up. Closure in some kind of fucked up way. Childish thoughts of “he was still my dad” try to take over but are quickly replaced by images of their burning house, the records going up and flames and ash coating everything he had left, everything she had left.

Suddenly there’s broken glass scattered across the floor and warm blood trickling down his arm, not by any fault of his own, just pure rage and unknown strength annihilating the poor glass he attempted to drink water with. Heartbeat in his ear, he swallows thickly and resumes his position against the kitchen cabinet–they’re going to send me back to the asylum.

All over again, even in the afterlife, dad plays his sick jokes. Gets Eddie into trouble he never sought out–he was just getting water, it was just water and now he looks like the picture perfect case for mental instability. No one’s seen him for days and–there’s knocking at the door. He swears it’s not like last time- it can’t be like last time, he didn’t mean it. This isn’t like back in Hawkins, when he was healing and the courts were making their decisions. He thought he was a goner, decided to pull the plug to save everyone the trouble, Wayne was at work, Steve was getting him groceries, everyone else was dealing with the end of the world. They shouldn’t have to worry about me. With a bottle of prescribed pills in hand.

The knocking turning urgent, conclusions are drawn up in a scattered, tormented mind–surely they’d rip up his contract, the agreement in which he had been assured a promising life anywhere but Indiana. A life he’d always longed for anyway.

Be careful what you wish for.

That goddamn voice taunts him.

The door shakes, manhandled from the other side and he’s forced to confront the final moments before he’s permanently put away. “One slip up…” They had said. It didn’t matter if he told them it was an accident, nothing mattered if it was anyone else’s word against him. Literally anyone. As long as it appeared that he was a danger to himself, he was a danger to society. They were probably waiting for this moment: lock up the problem child and throw away the key.

Cause he was nothing if not a problem. First and foremost.

Heart beating out of his chest, breath caught in his throat, he could practically hear the sirens whether they be from an ambulance or police car or both, they were coming–

“Eddie?”

It all stopped.

“Eddie?!”

There was no accurate way to describe the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, a tortured cry. The scene before you had been pulled straight out of a horror movie: your beloved Eddie covered in blood, palms pressed into his eyes, stuttered breathing in between sobs.

Upon approaching him he attempted to scoot himself away, glass shards sinking into his hands, a gasp filling the room and you were certain you needed to find someone else to–

“Please don’t make me go back!”

You couldn’t form words.

“I-it was an accident, I-I promise.” His eyes brimmed with a fear you never could have imagined coming close to witnessing in this lifetime. “Just–I just got some water-I didn’t mean to break it, I s-swear. Please d-don’t let them take me.”

Glass crunched under your boots, a slow approach as you crouch in front of the shattered man with the saddest eyes you’d ever seen. With a shaky breath and careful movements, a silent request to assess his arm and hands is made. You’re sure your wide eyes can’t be comforting in the slightest though the shock still pulses through you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” You soothe.

Forehead pressed to his in a moment of solace, you offer a nudge, nose to nose. A wordless commitment. Softness he didn’t know he needed, tender touches of your fingertips to his wet cheek as if to promise a remedy for his aching heart, that you weren’t planning on going anywhere. You weren’t leaving him like he convinced himself you would or god forbid turn him over to the authorities like he feared.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

–

Glass has been carefully swept three times over, though you were considering a fourth for good measure. Shards had been plucked from Eddie’s poor hands, your tweezers doing the job just fine after being doused in some cheap vodka he had. Gauze from a first aid kit you thankfully had in the car had been wrapped around the largest gash in his forearm, not large enough for stitches but large enough to wince at. He sat there the whole time, staring at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but your face.

The silence was heavy, a dense fog that hung low throughout his house. Someone had to break it but both parties were finding difficulties in voicing the reality of what just occurred. If either spoke it would make it real. Right now it was hazy, a question of “are we dreaming or did I just walk in on a suicide attempt?” hung in the air.

He said it was an accident, and you believed him. There was just so much unanswered and it’s the only thing that came to mind. Anxious fingers tapped against his own thigh, occasionally twisting his rings round and round while gnawing on his lower lip. It then dawned on you that he was the most human out of anyone you’d ever met.

He felt on a deeper level than most.

At the touch of your gentle hand against his, his surprised eyes, parted lips, and hesitance to reciprocate hint that he hadn’t anticipated you sticking around this long after you’d found him. In the standard of fight or flight, he froze. Realistically he may have been sitting on his tattered couch while you tended to his wounds, both physical and emotional whether he cares to admit or not, but mentally he checked out the second he found himself surrounded by glass and tears.

“Bambi–”

“You don’t need to say anything.”

You were trying to keep it together. His croaking voice made that hard. But in all seriousness it wasn’t fair to throw yourself a pity party in light of Eddie’s current stability. And you’d reject the idea of throwing him a pity party, wouldn’t even touch the idea, but you would offer him all the empathy your soul had collected in a lifetime. Even not knowing the culprit of his now dried up tears and stinging hands, you’d go to war for him. Maybe that was dare you even think it, love. But that’s a crisis for another time.

“Dad died.”

Somehow the silence became even greater, a gigantic void of confusing thoughts and complicated quick conclusions. Conclusions you backtracked on immediately. It wasn’t your decision to declare how he should feel about a man who in your eyes and through his words put him through hell no matter how strong your sense of justice grew.

“Oh, Eddie, I’m so–” A soft beginning to a sympathetic apology short lived.

“It’s fucked.” His voice cracked, stoic face crumbling no matter how hard he tried to rebuild the tough exterior. “I shouldn’t–” There’s a pause, an intake of shaky breath. “I shouldn’t feel bad.”

“You’re allowed to.”

“No, no he ruined fucking–everything.”

“And you’re still allowed to mourn. Even for as shitty of a person as he was, you were still his son and that meant something to you.”

You wished you could erase the flash of pain that glazed over his eyes; something that tells you he knew every word you spoke to be true but couldn’t quite bring himself to be at peace with it yet. Dust collected on the coffee table in his eternity of reflection, a melancholy aura blanketing the dark cabin as wind whistled through the chimney like spirits demanding attention.

“How’d you know?” He finally asked, timid.

“Hm?”

“I left everyone hanging, they all think I’m out with the flu, how did you pick the exact moment I…”

“Needed someone?”

Eddie nodded, hesitantly, like those weren’t the exact words he would pick himself but they seemed to convey what was necessary.

“Wayne called me.” You sigh. “Said he got my number from Steve. Everyone wanted to jump on the first plane over y’know?” At this a trace of a fraction of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but he did his best to contain it. “But it’s Christmas, flights are booked, and even then there’s a storm coming in. Wayne said he couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“So you knew?”

“No.” You assure, taking care to relax your features. “Just sounded really worried, didn’t want to air everything out. He wanted me to check in. I guess he has some kind of godly intuition.” You chuckle.

Eddie retracts his hand, and you know you’ve lost him to his inner battle again. You can only imagine the bloodshed happening within, after all, you were no stranger to deconstructing your own self worth brick by brick. The traumas he had been faced with were not anything therapy could simply remove like a tumor. There were no treatments afterward to ensure everything would get better. You knew this first hand, that you could try and try to get to the root but there was never any way to truly remove it to keep it from ever festering again. It would appear, it would be when you least expected, at your worst, and it would look you in the eye and test you.

“I’ll be fine.”

Famous last words. When the host convinces themselves but could never actually believe it to be true in their lifetime.

“But right now you’re not.”

Sabotage. In his eyes.

“But I will be. Don’t let me ruin your holiday just because–”

Excuses. Deterring from the targeted enemy: grief, in the name of saving others the trouble. A tactic you’d perfected in your years of people pleasing and feeding your tendencies to deflect your sorrows with the intent to appear invisible and self destruct.

“Stop it.” You demand.

“No, Bambi. Go to Donnie’s, I’m sure they’ll understand you coming early–”

“Stop.”

Rational thoughts were shoved into a neat little box somewhere else in his mind and you only hoped you could aid in retrieving it before he threw away the key. Before he decided not even he was worthy of hearing them from himself. And as he crossed his arms, a stubborn gesture, you braced for impact against his defenses. His cruel inner monologue and haunted house of a brain.

Big eyes adorned with every brown hue under the sun dissipated into pure darkness. Cold and black, lacking any of the warmth you’d previously basked in. He was lost in an underworld he’d been promised to since birth.

“Would you listen to me?!” Eddie’s jaw clenched in utter frustration and you swear a bead of sweat trickles into his eyebrow. “I’m not–I don’t wanna be the guy to drag you down. I’m not gonna be that guy, I won’t do it. My shit is my shit.”

You weren’t going to become complicit in the reality he’d settled for, the reality in which he felt he deserved scraps and just enough attention to deter himself from going insane.

“And I’m not gonna be the one to leave you while you’re hurting.” Finally catching his avoidant eye contact, you offer his forearm a squeeze. A plea. “Throw me out in the snow, I don’t care but I’m still gonna sit on your porch until you let me in. I don’t care what holiday it is.”

“Go.”

You try not to take it personal. It’s not personal.

“Fine.”

The last thing he hears is a slam of the door, refusing to even glance at where you previously sat adjacent to him. The room turned colder, more vacant. Even your energy had left with you, none spared for him of course, because why would he be spared anything from your healthy heart? His was black and blue, barely pumping, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you perform CPR on what he considered an already lost cause.

Do not resuscitate.

As quickly as he’d accepted the death of a budding relationship, the door swung open with aggression to interrupt his mourning, smacking the wall and no doubt breaking through some drywall. The least of his problems as he watched your determination in setting some stacked boxes on his kitchen counter before exiting again, this time leaving the door wide open.

It was eerie, the way your second exit was so open ended. Snow flurries entered and gusts of wind toyed with his curls, his cheeks already hurting a tad with the coldness. Eddie wasn’t sure what to make of it, you’d dropped off a box of what appeared to be Christmas decorations and what? Stormed off? Somehow that hurt even more than the first time, though he’d anticipated the day you would figure out how fucked up he was and retreat. He could prepare all he wanted but nothing stung more than the actual—

In you came, a box of ornaments under one arm and a small Christmas tree under the other. And you got to work, setting up the three foot tree right on his coffee table, plugging it in to the nearest outlet and initiating a soft glow of white lights, instantly engulfing the room in a newfound safeness. The tree needed fluffed and appeared to have bed head, though it still served its cheerful purpose regardless.

Eddie sat with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, on the edge of the couch, eyes shut. An uphill battle.

“Bambi, what did I tell you–”

“You told me to go.” You nod confidently, a frown betraying you, pulling at the corners of your mouth. “And I did. You didn’t say how long or—or where to go. But I gave you time to cool off and now you’re gonna either sit and pretend Christmas isn’t a thing or you’re gonna watch the stupid little clay people on TV while I cook dinner and bake. Either one is good with me but I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not and—“

Before you can look up amidst your rambling, a ringed finger hooks itself in one of your belt loops, tugging you into a warm chest.

There he is.

Warmth restored in his irises and a semblance of a smirk threatened his lips. Pale skin rosy in all the right places and endearing eyelashes framing his shy gaze down at you. Your boy.

Lips grazed lips, noses nudged into each other, and it all just…made sense. Bambi and Eddie. There is not one without the other, not anymore. Not since you sauntered into his life, demanded a job, puked on him, made him go absolutely insane—

“I love you.”

It just fell from his tongue. A promise.

“I-are—are you s—“

“Am I serious? Is that what you’re gonna ask?” He nearly mocks your mouthful of syllables.

You nod, gulping. Not because you’re afraid, no, never. You’d just never seen such assurance in a single man.

“Bambi…” He tuts. “You don’t see how bad I’ve got it for you?”

All you can manage is to dumbly bat your eyelashes up at him, mouth hung open like a fish and fists clutching the front of his shirt unknowingly, though he doesn’t mind in the slightest if you stretch out his collar.

“Bad.” He reiterates. “So bad, that even if you don’t feel the same, even if you only like me out of pity—“

“I don’t—“

“I’m not finished.” Your attempted interruption has him thumbing at your bottom lip. “Even if you only like me out of pity, I’ll take it. And I’ll run with it. Far. Because I’m pathetic—“

“You are not.”

“I’m a pathetic man. Who is deeply in love with you, Bambi.”

“Stop saying you’re pathetic.” You challenge quietly, a delicate hand tracing the stubble of his jaw.

“Oh, but I am.” He breathes, leaving no room for argument when he presses his lips against yours as if it were his last chance.

Did he believe it was his last chance?

And without thinking, tongues collided, teeth clashed, he had backed you into the wall and there was no telling how you found yourself palming him over rough denim, a whine escaping his throat before you’d barely touched him.

A pathetic whine dare you say.

“Sorry, sorry.” You gasp, string of saliva connecting you like the invisible string you believed tied you to him all along.

“Don’t—ow! Jesus fuck.” Eddie winced, shaking his hand in the air after attempting to cup your blushing cheek. “Forgot I had fucking…glass in my hand earlier.”

You giggle, a saccharine sound, a melody in his ears that he yearned to make more of. Embarrassment traces your features, brows pulled into a worrisome look while you hold your hands close against your chest, afraid of further touch much to his dismay.

“Can you…can you do that again?” He whispers. Terrified of the consequences but brave enough to face the rejection.

Nodding, your slow hand reaches for his cheek, thumb grazing over it before trailing down his neck. His breath hitches, your hand traveling lower and lower, over his chest and down his stomach, exploring all that you’ve so desired only in your wildest wet dreams.

Lifting the hem of his shirt ever so slightly, just enough to let your fingers graze his soft skin, your main goal is to tug at that delicious happy trail. And when you do, he can’t admit to you that he nearly cums in his jeans but you’re certain you’re on the same page when you see his eyes roll back into his skull.

He can’t control himself when he ruts into you the second your palm meets him once again, beautiful, breathy sighs escaping his pouty, plump lips.

“Like that, baby?” You ask, trailing hot kisses down his throat.

“Please.” A whisper that tells you everything. “I-I never—no one’s ever—“ He tries to warn you.

“What?” You encourage, tongue tracing his earlobe. “No one’s ever taken care of you, huh?”

“Just my hand.” Eddie jokes, voice strained.

Guiding him to sit back on the couch, it protests beneath the weight of you both as you crawl into his lap. Careful fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, patient lips hovering over his. Doe eyes look up at you, half in admiration, half in hesitation.

“We can stop.” You assure him, sweet kisses pressed to each corner of his lips.

“No, no.” His voice shakes, chest heaving. “I just—I don’t know exactly…what I’m doing.”

There’s an undertone of humiliation, the opposite effect you wanted to have on him. But you were confident that you could make him feel comfortable. Feel sexy and wanted.

“Let me do the work.” You whisper against his lips, slowly rolling your hips into him. “Let me take care of you.”

He nods, frantically moving to undo his zipper, only to be met with your delicate hands wrapping around his knuckles. You’re so patient with him, so gentle, so unlike what he’s ever been faced with.

“I said, let me take care of you.”

Feather light kisses pressed to his knuckles, you continue rotating your hips against his, feeling his bulge in between your legs, the friction tightening the knot within you. His eyebrows knit together, head falling back against the couch’s when you graze your fingertips just below his shirt again.

Nails gently drag down his torso, eliciting the loudest moan you’ve pulled from him so far. His injured hands only allow him to take their place in your belt loops again, assisting in setting the pace as you grind against him.

“Eddie.” You whimper.

“M’ gonna cum.” He halts your movements, only letting you hover above what was about to be sweet euphoria. “Wanna be inside of you.”

You can only gaze at him with the utmost love, entranced by his flushed appearance and his damp curls framing his face.

“Please, baby. Please, I’ve got condoms—“

You have to stop his babbling by shoving your tongue in his mouth, nodding against him with a grin.

“You bought condoms? Boy, are you prepared—“

A playful pillow is tossed into your face, a deep groan coming from your boy.

“Yes, I’m cautious, baby, please if you don’t sit on my dick right now, if I have to go one more minute not knowing what it’s like…”

“Shhh, okay, okay!!” You squeal when he attempts to get up only to fail with you pushing back. You knew damn well he was strong enough to fling you off of his lap should he choose, which only made your underwear more of a mess.

“You wanna go to the bedroom?” You tease, nuzzling into his cheek.

Without a second of hesitation, he launches you both off of the couch, palms against your ass only making you wonder how much his hands must hurt and how much adrenaline he must have not to care. Playfully, Eddie tosses you onto his bed, a pile of unkempt sheets that only seemed that much more comfortable than your own bed. You could die happily in the smell that engulfed you. Purely Eddie. Woodsy and minty. A tad smoky. And some hints of apple.

Just when you think he’s about to jump your bones, in every literal sense, you open your eyes to find him carefully adjusting the needle of his record player in the corner of the room. And then it plays. A rendition of Can’t Help Falling in Love. A folkier version, a woman singing with a twang to her voice.

“Well alright, cowboy.” You joke, an over seductive brow raising at him.

“Shut up.” He grins, crossing his arms to take his shirt off and toss it behind him.

“C’mere.” You reach over, tugging at his belt until he hovers over you. “Wanna see you.”

“You are seeing me, been here the whole time.”

Quickly, he gathers what you mean as you reverse positions, pushing him back on the bed to trail your lips along his stomach. Perfectly pretty lips follow along the scars he’d been left with years ago. The rough texture doesn’t deter you, doesn’t scare you off like he imagined. While your lips explore his scarred side, your hand delicately traces the dragon tattooed along his ribs on the opposite side. Inked skin that arose with goosebumps after each touch.

As if he hadn’t already died and gone to heaven, you stop your torment on his body to discard your own shirt, leaving you in only your bra before him. Careful to grab his hand, you drag his fingers down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, down, down, down until you let him dip into your pants. Beneath your damp panties, collecting slick before he catches on your clit, a moan falling so desperately from your lips.

“F-feel what you do to me?”

It aches.

His finger sits pressed against your throbbing clit, teasing in a way he has no idea about yet. But he will and you’re not quite ready to relinquish that power to him…yet.

You can’t handle the confines of clothing any longer, releasing your breasts as you unhook your bra and toss it to the side. His eyes grow, lips parted in awe. And when you go to shimmy your jeans off, the friction against his hand pulls a mewl from you, something so pretty and real.

You’re completely bare, prey for him to claim although he doesn’t, he lets you have control. And then you remove his hand, only to drag yourself over his denim covered thigh, slick coating the material without much effort.

Catching his eyes, you watch as he brings his finger up to his lips, tongue wrapping around the digit with a moan of approval. That’s when you decided you couldn’t drag it on any longer.

His belt buckle clinked against itself as you worked to yank his jeans down, practically drooling for his cock, drunk on the mere idea of even seeing it. Plaid boxers ignored, you pay attention to the way it slaps against his stomach, already leaking and red. Painfully aroused.

He barely survives when you decide to lower yourself and lick a long stripe up the underside, twitching against your tongue.

“B-baby, please.” While grinding into nothing, poor boy. “Wanna cum, wanna cum so bad.”

He’s been taunted enough, breaking a sweat as he lays there, fisting the sheets in his hands. You’ve nearly brought him to tears and you’ve barely touched him.

Leaving open mouthed kisses along his reddening chest, you finally offer some relief, ripping open a condom he’d somehow grasped in his hand the entire time, rolling it onto him, and sinking down, swallowing him into your warmth. Eddie makes the prettiest sounds, small almost hiccups and gasps. Slowly, you work your hips against him, clit rolling just right against his pubic hair.

He’s big, stretches you out and hits just the right spot. Hips stuttering, he places his hands on your waist, cut hands be damned. Eddie’s close, has been this entire time, but he can’t contain himself the second you lick up a bead of sweat from his chest to his collarbone. The site is simply too pornoraphic for his inexperienced dick, hot cum filling the condom. The moan he lets out as he finishes only encourages you, gets you going faster in the limited time you now have before he softens.

Automatically you reach down to play with your clit, knowing it’ll push you over the edge though he realizes and beats you to it, a rough finger circling you in a pleasant rhythm. Overstimulated whines fall from him but he doesn’t quit giving you what you need, what you so desperately desire.

Then all at once, pleasure crashes down around you, pulsing around him, leaving you twitching and panting. The record stopped playing however long ago, the silence pulling you back into the realm of Eddie’s bedroom.

Nothing needs to be said, words aren’t on your minds. Excuses for what just occurred are nonexistent because if you’re being honest, it was sewn into the timeline no matter what. Forever embedded into the universe in every lifetime. Heavy breaths carried a symphony during the cool down, sweaty chests pressed together, sticky and salty.

Absentmindedly your foot grazed against his hairy shin, fingers dancing along his chest and arm. His bicep was toned, something you were never able to appreciate up close before but would now take all the time you wanted. You wanted to memorize every detail of his body, every freckle, hair, and birthmark. All of him.

His lazy hand let his fingers trail up and down your spine, writing letters unknown to you but etched into his brain for as long as he knew you. He held a new appreciation for intimacy, something he sourly wrote off early on but now would cherish deeply.

Girls never liked him but if he could go back in time and show younger Eddie the one girl who would ever matter to him, well he imagines younger Eddie would still be a naive dipshit about it but he could try nonetheless. Supposes he would hit him with a “it gets better, kid” and all that sappy shit. Something like “you’re gonna marry this girl”. That would be okay to jump the gun on, right?

–

Cinnamon and chocolatey aromas couldn’t completely wash away the somber haze although it was fairly close. Post sex air somewhat helped as well, though you weren’t banking on it, it wasn’t a solution, more like a deterrent that hadn’t been planned on either part.

The little plastic tree on the coffee table decorated with years old ornaments wasn’t going to heal the bruising on an ever healing heart. Christmas classics played on the TV but you knew Rudolph wasn’t going to erase a lifetime's worth of childhood trauma.

It could help though. And that’s all that mattered. If watching Christmas classics only aided in healing a millionth of the wounds, then it was worth doing. If decorating his once dark and depressing house with twinkling lights and garland only brought out a smidge of the inner child that needed help healing, then it was worth it.

While Eddie slept in, you played Santa even if just with one gift, leaving it next to the coffee table, too large to fit under the small tree. Though it didn’t start out perfect, Christmas was starting to look very familiar. Baked goods sat out on top of the stove, cinnamon rolls, croissants, the works. Eddie’s shitty little kitchen radio played Christmas tunes which you found yourself humming along to.

You’d thrown together some maple bacon, drizzling actual maple syrup on the strips in hopes that they’d candy in the oven, which they did. Hash browns sat in the skillet, slightly burned but at least there was ketchup in the fridge to cover up the burnt taste. Snow blanketed the streets outside, snowing you in although you didn’t mind one bit.

You’d called Donnie, heard the commotion over the line at her house, family members causing a ruckus in the background as she made pancakes. While you were supposed to be with everyone this morning, she assured you all was well and you could hear the smirk in her voice.

Emerging from his room, Eddie’s bed head is the first thing you greet. Curls sticking out every which way, bangs defying gravity. Lines ran down his face, imprints from the sheets and his boxers hung low on his hips. A dream.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” You giggle at the way he squints in the early morning sunlight peeking through the window.

Stretching his arms over his head, you’re forced to witness the way every muscle flexes, drool nearly falling from the corner of your mouth. It doesn’t go unnoticed but he decides it can be addressed later.

“Merry Christmas, did you get me some fucking curtains so I can actually see?” He laughs, voice husky with sleep.

“No but I can do you one better—“

“I was joking Bambi, I wasn’t actually expecting any—“

“Next to the table.”

Your grin makes him want to run directly to you and spin you around, kiss you a few dozen times, and never leave this bubble you two have created. Instead he hesitantly steps toward the previously mentioned gift, a large gift at that, wrapped thoughtfully in reindeer paper and complete with a large red bow. He felt like an asshole.

“I—no I can’t—“

“Open it.”

Eddie just stared.

“Eddie, it’s Christmas, first thing you do is open gifts!” You smile, approaching behind him.

Then he disappeared back into his room, the sound of him rummaging the only thing letting you know he hasn’t retreated just to hide from you. When he walks back out, he’s hiding something behind his back, a nervous smile tugging at his face.

“I swear—I was going to wrap it, I just—I don’t have an excuse. I just didn’t. I’m sorry.” His large brown eyes plead with you, begging for forgiveness that he didn’t need to beg for in the first place.

As if defeated, he hands you a stack of records, several that probably cost a good paycheck. And you can tell he feels it’s not even enough with the way he avoids your gaze.

“Um, it’s probably stupid, it’s just, they’re records that made me think of you. I dunno, it’s dumb, music is just—“

“I love you.” You interrupt.

Without another word you grab the records from him to momentarily set them on the table. Before he knows it you're smashing your lips against his, passion being poured into every breath he takes against you. Your hands cup his cheeks, still slightly stubbly but cute. He wraps his large hands around your wrists, hissing at the slight sting but continuing.

“You’re not just saying that—“

“I. Love. You.” You enunciate each word with a peck. “Point blank. No exceptions. You’re stuck with me old man.”

“Old man? We’re like the same age—“

You’ll never forget the amusement on his face but what attracts your attention next are the records. A huge stack of them. All genres. Some Elvis, ones that hadn’t made it in your collection yet, a few that seemed more his taste, metal. It was a universal language and it was his preferred way of feeling. That much you could gather.

“Um, yeah, if you don’t like them I can just…”

“Don’t like them?” You scoff. “I love them.”

You hold them close to your chest, as if they were books and you were in high school. You suppose you could be what with the way butterflies erupted in your stomach. He made you feel like you were in high school, gave you a sense of youth that had been skipped over previously.

And he was blushing.

“Well, uh, I just thought you know…music does a lot for me. I picked some out that I knew you’d like. Also put some that I like in there, I dunno why, you don’t have to listen to them.”

“Oh, we are listening to them. Right after you open your gift.”

More blushing.

Eddie takes a few glances at the gift, as if it were there to test him. Like Pandora’s box or something. Then he crouches down beside it, hesitantly reaching out to peel back the paper. A giddy grin rests on your face, records still clutched in your hold. His face says it all once he’s torn through enough paper. It’s a guitar case, that much he can tell, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Then he opens the case, revealing a cherry red electric something that you couldn’t memorize the name of but all you knew was that he had his eyes on it for months before you even entered the picture. At least that’s what the guy at the thrift shop said.

“No fucking way.” He smiles, half laughs. Then repeats himself. Over and over.

“Do you like it?”

Instead of receiving verbal confirmation, you’re nearly tackled, strong arms wrapping around you and swinging you around. Laughter erupts from deep within you, Eddie setting you down just to kiss you deeply and with so much care you figure you’ll faint.

“I love it, I love you.”

Later that morning, frosting coats his lips then transfers to yours in a quick kiss across his tiny dining table. The bacon is devoured, mostly on his account, and those claymation Christmas classics elicit laughter like no other. Deep belly laughs from the man whose legs you sit in between. His shirt rests comfortably on your torso.

He calls Wayne, puts it on speaker, and effortless banter occurs between you three. Wayne tells his boy to behave, wishes him a Merry Christmas, apologizes that times have been so shitty and that his flight had been canceled. Thanks you for being there to ground his boy, tells you how much Eddie’s friends have gone on and on about you two, that he can’t wait to meet you.

Then you call up your family back home, more than likely all crammed in the same house, doing puzzles, arguing over stupid things, throwing wrapping paper everywhere. You miss it. But you wouldn’t trade your place right now for anything. Eddie timidly and adorably chimes in, says hi. Makes small talk with mom and grandma. Grandma begs him to take a look at her station wagon when he makes his way over with you for a visit some day. No question about it, he’s going and that’s final, according to her. He doesn’t seem to mind though, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Lastly you call up the gang. Nancy answers, says everyone’s at their house as usual. Shouting between Dustin, Steve, and Mike is heard in the background. Something about a broken sled. Robin takes the call hostage, telling you both about the juicy gossip amongst the group.

“And then Max—you haven’t met Max yet, Bambi, but Max left Lucas a—shit you haven’t met Lucas yet either. This would all make so much more sense then.”

There’s talk of a summer trip, something fun everyone can join in on. Kind of like summer camp except Nancy would of course be the ring leader by default. She would more than likely assign the adults as camp counselors unofficially. Eddie’s face lights up, tells her about the perfect campsite not far from his house. Beautiful in the summertime. Then looks at you, shares a dimpled grin and runs his thumb over your knee.

Loved ones called and bellies full, Eddie plays around with his new guitar, and softly in the background, Muddy Waters plays. One of the records he’d gifted you.

~end~

Masterlist

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea @dashingdeb16

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #smoke signals #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie Munson series #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic

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twistedwonderlandsimps · 8 months

Text

Technomaniac!Yuu

I'm just here to mix-and-match different kinds of Yuus with different kinds of personalities to see what monstrosity I can make. That being said,,, Technomaniac!Yuu brainrot!

So basically this Yuu belongs in the High Fantasy Yuuniverse on the human side and they’re absolutely obsessed with technology and becomes unhinged when creating stuff.

Mayhaps their family ran a robot-related business or a machine-creating business and that’s where their obsession started. Maybe Yuu’s obsession further increased due to the fact that they were a human being in a world full of otherworldly creatures.

In a world of high fantasy, there’s bound to be differing opinions and speciesism can’t be avoided.

Some creatures thought humans were inferior due to their short lifespans. That they were greedy and ignorant. Some humans were even prejudiced to their own kind. Others thought humans in a more positive light, the fact that they were versatile and determined when it comes to things.

So Yuu with no magic and no super powers strived to be the best in the only thing they knew they could fully control and wanted to prove to everyone that humans weren’t inferior, thus beginning their obsession.

This Yuu has this cute little drone hovering over them all the time because I said so. The drone’s very expressive and acts as a kind of assistant for Yuu.

So anyway, the day of the entrance ceremony?

Forget Grim opening the coffin, Yuu just ordered the drone to laser through the lid and then kicked it open.

Seeing this, Grim became startled but then soon after demanded their robe.

“Beep! Threat detected! Determining threat level, please wait… Threat level determined. Warning: Threat level 5, initiating self-defense protocol.” The drone hovering over Yuu’s shoulder turned to an alarming shade of red but before it could do anything, Yuu waved them off gently. “Stand down, A1.”

Yeah, the little drone’s called A1 meaning Assistant 1.

Thankfully, a battle between the force of fire and laser never happened since Yuu saw no reason to wear the ceremonial robe because they felt their clothes were much better and gave it to Grim but only on the condition that Grim become their second assistant.

Grim, too focused on acquiring the robe at all cost, didn’t notice Yuu’s condition.

Anyway, guess what Grim’s nickname is. Yeah, that’s right. It’s A2 for Assistant 2.

Let it be known Technomaniac!Yuu has no penchant for naming. All that’s in their brain is making technological stuff.

I just suddenly thought of Yuu having Doofenshmirtz penchant for naming, just slapping ‘-inator’ at the end of their creation’s names.

Can you imagine an overblot and Yuu just pulls out this strange device and introduces it like:

Yuu: “Behold! Marvel at my ‘Insta-Knockout SlumberBlaster 3000-inator!’ Riddle’s going to definitely go down with this in just one hit!” A1: “With only an approximate 63% chance of dealing concussion! A massive improvement from the previous trials!” Ace: “Excuse me, only 63%? Wait— Previous trials? Yuu, who did you test it on for you to get that statistic? Yuu? Yuu, come back here! Who did you test it on?! Yuu!”

Another overblot scenario would be…

A1: “Beep! Threat detected! Determining threat level, please wait…” Someone: “W… Why do you need to determine his threat level??? He’s literally about to kill us???” Yuu: “No, no, let my child cook.” A1: “Threat level determined. Warning: Threat level 10. Suggesting course of action: Run.” Yuu: “Okay, now we run.”

Let’s not forget holograms!

Imagine Deuce seeing Yuu facing away from him in the distance so he runs over to them and tries to gain their attention. He tries to tap Yuu’s shoulder but their hand just goes over Yuu’s form, leaving a slight glitch-like effect where Deuce’s hand passes through.

Hologram Yuu looks over to Deuce and says:

“Alas, as I am not here, I disappear.”

Then throws out a peace sign before slowly fading away while still maintaining eye contact.

Now that I think about it, on the first day of their janitorial duties, Yuu was able to make a weird-looking cleaning device out of metal scraps and pieces they found in Ramshackle and it somehow worked.

Well, for the most part anyway.

Having no windows technically meant nothing to clean so in a way Yuu was doing their job, yes?

Yeah, Yuu broke a few windows and may have contributed to the chandelier also breaking that day so Deuce ain’t the only one at fault for this.

Speaking of, Ace’s first meeting with Yuu.

When he was introducing the Statues of the Great Seven to Grim and Yuu, Yuu turned to him and asked in the most serious voice possible if Ace wanted the statues to be animated by turning it into animatronics.

Ace barely managed to stop Yuu from dismembering the statues.

Technomaniac Yuu at literally everything they can see: “I can make it better!”

Giving broken things to Technomaniac!Yuu to be fixed is a gamble.

Oh, a toaster? Well, you either get a completely fixed toaster that’s a bit better with warming your bread than before or it turns into a charcoal-maker. There is no inbetween.

Your phone? Oops, might’ve accidentally turned the flashlight function into a flashbang, teehee.

Technomaniac!Yuu is basically the tech support of NRC.\

Or more like tech terror. Tech-rorr, get it? I’m so funny.

Speaking of NRC, Yuu got banned from going to Ignihyde dorm.

That’s because they got too excited seeing all the new devices and technology they haven’t seen before in the dorm and kind of dismantled almost everything to see how it worked.

Ooooo, now that I’m thinking of it, cybernetic body modifications!

Like, what if they got severely injured against one of the overblot boys? Lost a limb or two? Or maybe they already had cybernetic body modifications even before they arrived in Twisted Wonderland.

Imagine them having an arm kinda similar to the robot arm Princess Bubblegum gifted Finn with the various power tools/weapons functions. There’s probably a rocket launcher function around there somewhere.

Rook tries to stalk Technomaniac!Yuu but it always ends up being a hologram. Why do you think Rook calls them Trickster?

Wait, can you imagine the dynamic between Technomaniac!Yuu and Malleus?

One’s so bad at technology while the other’s the complete opposite.

Yuu asks Malleus if he wants his phone to be upgraded and suddenly Malleus’ phone has a built-in taser, ultra hd 4k graphics camera and video resolution, live tamagotchi game synchronization and surveillance, 24/7 AI assistance, unlimited wifi, faster internet speed, ultra deluxe storage expansion, the strongest antivirus known to to mankind, and Malleus still doesn’t know how to use his phone.

Yuu learns Briar Valley has technomancy and they’re immediately putting that place as a vacation spot because hello? Combining magic and technology? Can you imagine all the things they could create with those two forces combined? They’d be unstoppable!

Also, the Magicam Monsters stand no chance against Technomaniac!Yuu.

The moment those suckers break into Ramshackle, Yuu would immediately interfere with their gadgets and kick them out if they’re feeling merciful.

If not, well, say hello to the most vengeful virus they’ve ever met in their lives.

No matter what gadget they change into, the virus will always follow them everywhere in the cyberspace network and break their devices or cause them the most annoying inconveniences.

Slow internet? You betcha! Wifi symbol on but internet not coming through? Why, it happens almost every other day! Apps failing to open at the most crucial time? Lmao, rofl.

Speaking of gadget, Cater probably asks Yuu to upgrade his phone so he can take better selfies.

Thankfully the upgrade was a success and nothing exploded.

Yuu: “Well, here’s your phone, Cater! New and improved with better camera quality, efficiency, and effectiveness! Also, I hope you don’t mind but I also added an app that I occasionally use called Therapy Bot. Free of charge!” Cater: “Thanks, Yuu! Wait—” Yuu, looking around and leaning in to whisper: “Between you and me, I think everyone in this school could really benefit from Therapy Bot.”

Technomaniac!Yuu the most unhinged yet one of the most sane Yuu variants out there.

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topnotchquark · 1 month

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what's your top three (or more) vale looks?

I deliberated before answering whether I want to show the objectively good looks or the ones where I personally feel crazy so I guess I'll try to balance both. Let's get into it.

1. Eyeball Mugello helmet 2011.

Is it easy on the eyes? No. Does it look truly otherworldly almost terrifying. His own blue eye on the helmet, an ode to a lifetime of being watched and reclaiming the agency in it, the red suit, the yellow motifs of gloves and kneepads.

Leathers in general are some of the most captivating looking sport protective gear and his Ducati red ones being elevated in his trademark fashion, literally I have thought about them every day since I first saw them. It comes together in my mind partly because I love his freak ass so much and partly because if a bunch of alies descended upon earth, he could pass off as a revered human warrior to them lol. To me, it's a high fashion moment ™️.

2. 63rd Venice Film Festival, 2006.

Imo Face card with credit limit that could make Mansa Musa's worldly wealth look like peanuts. Cherubic glow on his face, a vaguely mellow mischievous glint in his eyes, curls settled around his head like a laurel wreath, sideburns framing his face in the trademark hot and iconic fashion. Every red carpet photo from this day is a hit. Fae prince realness served. Imo it also seems like the type of masculinity Vale always wanted to project to the world. Don't google the rest of the outfit he was in some ugly jeans.

3. Hair Color Saga.

Self-explanatory. Cemented him as an idea as a showman in the minds of people. Did it while having fun. Loved that he was on a mission to try as many colors as possible. My personal favourite is the blue hair by far.

4. Misc. Because why not.

That time he looked like a hot dirtbag at Wimbledon and god knows how many inane rules he broke in the process. Sticking it to the man in trademark Vale style.

Okayyy Miss Dior Addict Lip Glow Oil Shade 015 Cherry.

That time he got jacked??? As my husband Diljit Dosanjh said, "lookin thicc, she be on that protein". It's not even hot or anything it's just surprising because when he was young he hated the gym. (Thank you callie @moonshynecybin for these pictures because I didn't want to good Valentino Rossi shirtless ur a real one mwah mwah)

Alas I've hit the 10 photo limit so I will have to stop now but appreciating Vale's face never stops.

Thank you so much for this question. I'd love to hear your opinions, which Vale era is most attractive to you and which ones made you like him? And same for Fabio?

#asks #valentino rossi #vale #I LOVED putting together the response to this #yamahussy ily I want your opinions on all of these #motogp

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dreamerwitches · 15 days

Text

Scene Zero for Dummies

I'm going to be a martyr and list out all the important plot beats for scene zero so that no one else has to slog through it like me. Let's goooo

Scene 1

Mabayu loves movies, is bad at socialising and lying, is most likely autistic, very lazy and works at her aunt's - Sakie - cafe. She's a year above most of the girls at school, in Mami's year.

While watching a movie, time pauses because of Homura and Mabayu gets paused too. She can resume the paused TV when she touches it.

Time pauses at school for her and she uses this time to copy a students answers during a test.

Mabayu sees Kyubey outside but Sakie doesn't see them, thinking she saw Amy. A cat that visits outside the cafe regularly.

Mabayu has a soul gem ring but doesn't remember where she got it from. She has no idea she is currently a magical girl.

At the cafe Mabayu gets a sudden vision of Amy getting hit by a car. She goes outside and sees it happened and Madoka is crying over her. Madoka and Sakie go to the vet with Amy while Mabayu looks after the cafe.

Amy suddenly gets better at the vet with the vets declaring it a miracle. This was because Madoka made her wish to save Amy.

The school goes on an annual visit to an auto plant (what a lame school trip huh). Mabayu accidentally wanders into a witch's labyrinth but Mami pulls her out with her ribbons.

Meanwhile, parts of episode 10 are happening during this. Homura is in her second loop. Eg. tells Madoka in class she's a magical girl too. Homura actually tells Mami and Madoka about her wish and being from the future here but the two have a hard time believing it.

Homura struggles fighting witches so Mami actually gives her a book on how to make explosives (guess she didnt look it up online this time eh?)

Mabayu follows Mami after being curious of her being a magical girl (she still doesn't know about them) but Mami acts weirdly saying she'll kill her (I have no idea why this is so out of character). Mabayu runs away in fear into a Bartels barrier and it kills her and later Mami (sigh)

Episode 10 plays out where Madoka becomes Kriemhild and Homura finds out about witches

Film 2

Mabayu is surprised to wake up at the beginning of the loop and thinks everything was a dream.

Kyubey finally approaches Mabayu saying they've already made a contract with Mabayu.

The Amy incident happens just the same as last time as Mabayu forgets to interfere.

Meanwhile, Homura is unsure about sharing the truth with others.

Mabayu uses her magic at school. She can turn invisible in her magi form by bending light. Her magic can also let her hear conversations from a way away as well as basically zoom in in real life.

She spies on Madoka and Mami in Mami's apartment. Homura enters, telling them not to listen to Kyubey but doesn't elaborate as she doesn't think they're ready yet.

Mabayu wants to find Homura's address at school so she can meet her but cannot find it in the staff room.

At the auto plant visit, Madoka and Homura fight the witch with Homura finally explaining her past. (but not the truth about witches) Madoka is fine with this, trusting Homura. Homura isn't ready to tell Mami yet.

Kyubey makes contact with Sayaka but she is dissuaded from contracting by Homura.

Sayaka knows about Madoka being a magical girl and is a little jealous she's so amazing. The scene with Kyosuke plays out ala episode 4 and she is swayed to contract.

Homura encounters Elly similar to Madoka in episode 4 and Sayaka saves her.

Madoka, Sayaka and Homura find Anja and Kyoko interrupts like in episode 5. Sayaka is suspicious that Homura knows Kyoko's name but is hesitant about telling Sayaka the truth.

Ala episode 10, Homura meets with everyone to tell them the truth. She tells them about witches but Mami and Sayaka don't fully trust her.

At the hospital, Sayaka wants to visit Kyosuke but Hitomi is already there. She overhears him saying he thinks Hitomi's visits are what cured his hand and Sayaka is very upset.

Sayaka's suffering arc plays out with it ending in Mami's breakdown.

Madoka and Homura fight Walpurgis with it ending in Homura killing Madoka before she can become Kriemhild. Mabayu resets along with Homura.

Film 3

Homura becomes coolTM

Homura shoots Kyubey outside Madoka's home, believing them to be dead now.

At home, Homura realises she can't tell the truth to anyone and will kill Walpurgis on her own. Mabayu arrives in her home, telling her Kyubey isn't dead.

The girls are two late and Madoka saves Amy, becoming a magical girl.

Homura is mad at Mabayu for spying on her and Mabayu gets nervous, running away.

Madoka is fighting the Minotaur witch at the auto plant but is struggling. Mabayu tries to help, using her weapon for the first time.

Homura stops time, stepping in. Mabayu is shocked Homura was going to abandon this Madoka just because she's contracted. Homura explains she doesn't want to connect to Madoka to feel the pain all over again because she knows she'll have to reset eventually in this loop.

Mabayu has a future vision. This shows that Homura can win but Mabayu will die. Knowing this is the best outcome, she goes along with it, dying.

Mami rushes over, upset at Mabayu's death. She later dies by Charlotte despite Madoka's warning. The two fight Walpurgis but fail.

Film 4

Mabayu visits Homura and both of them remember the last loop. She is at first rude but soon thanks Mabayu for sacrificing herself for the best outcome.

The two team up with Homura killing Kyubey outside Madoka's home again.

Kyubey visits Mabayu at home but she plays dumb, pretending to not understand them. She makes up a warning that if Kyubey tries to make Madoka contract something terrible will happen.

Meanwhile, Homura deals with Mami by making a truce. She'll tell her where witches will appear with her past knowledge so that she won't make any other girls contract.

Mabayu and Homura discover that the car that hits Amy was caused by a witch so they find the cause, defeating a familiar.

At the auto plant, Mabayu manages to stop Madoka and Sayaka from falling into the witch's barrier by helping them find the exit. Mabayu and Homura successfully fell the witch.

Unfortunately, Kyubey manages to meet Madoka and Sayaka, talking to them.

Kyubey tells Mami about these new candidates but since she made a deal with Homura she refuses.

Mabayu and Homura deal with Gertrud but Sayaka is injured in the crossfire. Homura uses this to warn Madoka from contracting as its dangerous.

Madoka approaches Homura and Mabayu, asking about magical girls. She is sad about Homura fighting alone and wants to help but Homura tells her adamantly not to.

Mabayu is worried that if Homura keeps telling Madoka about the danger of being a magical girl, she'll just want to help Homura more. Mabayu suggests they emphasise the fact she will no longer be human. Homura wonders if telling her the truth will help.

Madoka gets lost in Charlotte's labyrinth at the hospital. Homura decides to tell Madoka the truth about witches. Madoka then makes a wish to save Charlotte from despair, creating a strangely coloured Nagisa.

The girls then have to look after Nagisa who acts similarly to usual but more childishly. The group think that they can deal with Nagisa by fulfilling her wish.

Nagisa has nightmares of killing Mami as Charlotte and begins to think she's not a good person. She goes on a rampage, killing witches as well as Kyoko.

This film explains Mabayu's mother's backstory. She had a future vision that was never wrong but one day saw that she was going to die of illness and it broke her. She became a different person, begging no one to approach her in hospital.

Seeing no option to save Nagisa, Mabayu uses her magic to alter her memories. She cuts it like a film, removing her memories of killing Mami and Kyoko.

Nagisa gets a cheesecake baked by Sakie.

The girls fight Walpurgis and Nagisa is finally at peace so disappears. Homura resets

Film 5

Homura states they cannot let Madoka know about witches as they'll have another mess like Nagisa to deal with.

At the auto plant, Mabayu helps out Madoka and Sayaka again. Homura freezes time and kills Kyubey so that they cannot talk to Madoka and Sayaka.

Homura has sent Mami to another city so that she's out of their hair.

Mabayu is tasked with stalling Madoka and Sayaka from running into a witch at the mall but she's nervous about talking to them. Mabayu decides to ask Sayaka if she wants to work at her aunt's cafe.

Sayaka asks Mabayu why she wanted to hire her for work. Mabayu states she knows she collects DVDs but Sayaka is suspicious of how she knows so. Mabayu tries to lie but Sayaka sees right through her.

Kyubey tries to contact Sayaka to contract but she doesn't understand what they're saying.

Homura defeats Charlotte in the hospital. Kyubey appears and Mabayu uses a borrowed gun to kill them, masking it in the public space as a fire extinguisher going off.

Mabayu discovers that Madoka and Sayaka visited the hospital to see Kyosuke. Both Mabayu and Homura were unaware of him before now.

Homura asks Mabayu to see into the future but in it Sayaka has contracted. Homura realised she overlooked Sayaka while focusing on Madoka.

Homura is mad at Sayaka so prepares to fight her however Mabayu butts in. She doesn't want Sayaka to get hurt so asks Homura to let her deal with Sayaka instead. She plans on becoming her friend so she won't turn into a witch or have a bad effect on Madoka.

Kyoko doesn't interfere with Sayaka as she doesn't visit Mitakihara in this timeline.

Mabayu continues to fail at becoming closer friends with Sayaka as she's too bad at conversations. She's also put off by the fact she thinks of herself more as a senpai (an older classmate) than a friend.

Sayaka later fights Elsa Maria with Homura aiding. She is mad at Homura and an incident makes Mabayu appear where she was previously invisible. Sayaka is mad that Mabayu was working with Homura all along. The three tussle but oh what a surprise, Madoka contracts to make Sayaka no depress any more wow

Madoka and Sayaka fight Walpurgisnacht but fail, Homura resetting time.

Film 6

Mabayu apologises for messing up but Homura is fine with it since they learnt a lot. She honestly doesn't want to kill Sayaka at the end of the day.

Mabayu hires Sayaka again but this time knows her better, pointing out her love of classical music.

Sayaka discovers Mabayu is a magical girl but the two seem on good terms about it. Mabayu explains what she can remember of her wish (as it is still unknown to her) and that it was a wish for another person.

Kyosuke's tantrum from episode 4 plays out as Mabayu watches in hiding.

Sayaka is about to make her wish but Mabayu intervenes. She tries to dissuade her but fails.

Mabayu and Sayaka go witch hunting together. Mabayu chooses a song for Sayaka to fight to which apparently improves her strength.

Mabayu spies on Hitomi and Sayaka having their conversation like in episode 7. Mabayu is unsure how to cheer Sayaka up from this.

Sayaka asks Mabayu if she can see into the future about Hitomi's confession but backpedals, losing confidence. Mabayu hopes Sayaka will confess instead.

Sayaka seemingly decides to confess but Kyubey tells her she's no longer human and loses her resolve.

Sayaka faces Elsa Maria like usual.

Sayaka skips school the next day and later is found on the Soul-gem-throwing-bridge and does the deed herself. Unfortunately, this hustle makes Madoka contract whoops (she's really an idiot in scene zero huh)

Reset time whee

Film 7

Mabayu decides against letting Sayaka contract this time.

Mabayu pretends she has fortune telling abilities, trying to dissuade Sayaka from thinking about a contract and suggests maybe raising money for surgery for him instead.

Mabayu fucks up and Sayaka contracts anyway wow

Homura realises that Sayaka absolutely can't contract because clearly she's a fucking idiot

Madoka becomes a magical girl for Sayaka NEXT

Film 8

After Sayaka has the Kyosuke incident of 2011, Mabayu decides to cut her memories of it. She reveals that the target has to be thinking of the memories in order for her to cut them (great writing there…)

Walpurgisnacht comes and Madoka contracts, becoming Kriemhild.

Film 9

Mabayu practices fighting witches alone

Wow nothing really happens in this one huh. But it seems like the loops are finally getting to Mabayu mentally

Film 10

Homura and Mabayu leave town to stock up on grief seeds but Mabayu is killed by Kyoko

Kyoko kills Mami too wow thats so out of character…

Film 11

Mabayu realises that she continues fighting because of her admiration for Homura.

Kyubey suggests Mabayu replaces Madoka as the big entropy ending power source

Film 12

Mabayu suggests they get Mami to help them but Homura is against it

Homura instead recruits Kyoko, swaying her with the promise of plenty of grief seeds

Homura and Mabayu grow a little closer with Homura allowing her to call her by her first name. This makes Mabayu upset I think because she’s worried about getting too close with Homura

Kyoko tells Mami the truth about witches. Mabayu decides to cut Mami’s memories but sees herself in them, leading toooo

Film Mami Tomoe

Wow Mami is finally important thank fucking god! This is set before everything btw

Mabayu meets Mami with Kyubey and decides on a wish quickly. To remove her mother’s future sight so she no longer knows about her predicted death.

Mami and Mabayu work together by Mabayu holding back but using her future sight and Mami fighting for her, sharing the grief seed.

After an incident with a rookie magical girl, Mabayu learns she can cut memories. The girl seems to go missing and the two are worried, Mami thinking it's her fault

This bit is weird, it seems to play out like film 1 but from Mami's point of view. Mabayu suddenly seems to not know her. (Kyubey is affected too)

Homura is coolTM so its not film 1 I guess. Homura tells Mami not to talk with Mabayu.

Mami thinks Mabayu erased her memories of their time together.

Kyoko tells Mami the truth about witches.

Mabayu meets up with Mami and sees her memories which brings her old ones back. She realises Mami is guilty about leading other girls to their deaths by making them contract. Mabayu thinks she's a coward for cutting her own memories but leaving Mami with the burden.

It is revealed Homura was trying to keep Mami and Mabayu apart so that Mabayu wouldn't regain her memories of Mami and the time they spent together. (I dont really know why...)

Mabayu uses future sight for Homura, saying they'll win and fix everything, but this is a lie. She actually saw herself becoming a witch.

As Mabayu is close to falling into despair, Madoka wishes to save her.

Then we go to film 0, I dont know why this is getting so hard to follow...

It seems like this is the first timeline, the start of episode 10.

Madoka makes a contract to save Amy.

Mabayu is friends with Mami here.

Meanwhile Mabayu meets Ultimate Madoka??? It seems she is showing Mabayu these events.

Mabayu helps Madoka with the minotaur witch.

Mabayu sees Walpurgisnacht while future-visioning for the minotaur witch and tells Mami and Madoka.

Episode 10 plays out

The girls defeat Charlotte with Mami surviving.

Walpurgisnacht comes and Mabayu uses her future vision but sees they will fail and both Mabayu and Mami will become witches.

Mabayu lies, saying they'll defeat the witch.

At Walpurgisnacht, Mabayu confesses she lied before and she suddenly sees numerous films of the anime.

Mabayu says something dumb and cuts her own memories "Her future vision shows her a film with a future in which her vision of the future is already woven in. So if she erases her memories of despair, then the future will turn into hope!" like what the fuck does that mean? But Mami knew she was lying anyway cause she's a terrible liar so Mabayu you fucking solved nothing

Mami and Mabayu both die by Walpurgisnacht and Homura contracts.

Mabayu awakes in a new timeline and goes to cut Kyubey and Mami's memories of her.

And now we're FINALLY back to the main story

Mabayu cuts the film of her fate(?) I guess making it so she forgets about witches.

Madoka, Homura, Kyoko and Mabayu go to find Mami in the school where she's laid out a trap. She wants to 'free Mabayu of Homura's brainwashing' and wants to run away with her.

Mami doesn't want her memories to be cut because she doesn't want to stop being Mabayu's friend but in the end she accepts it, Mabayu cutting her memories.

They fight Walpurgis but fail, reset!

Film 13

Mami no longer comes up to Mabayu in the morning, she no longer remembers her as a friend.

Mabayu decides to cut Homura's memories of her and then from the entire film(?) I guess from everyone else.

At the cafe, Mami visits to buy cake and gets along with Mabayu.

The anime then plays out like usual.

And well that's it :T what a lame ending huh. Can you tell I was super fed up at the end? But... the story is here... sorry if things don't make sense in places, they don't make sense just as much in the story...

#madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm #magia record #scene zero

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heyimdove · 6 months

Text

Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:

1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot

2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.

3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”

4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).

5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.

6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”

7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.

8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.

9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!

10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).

11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.

12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.

13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.

14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.

15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”

16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”

17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.

18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.

19. “Tumblr is its own madness”

20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”

21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.

22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.

23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.

It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!

#neil gaiman

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azukiel · 6 months

Text

Nightfall Heir

Chapter 7

🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW

Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Pregnancy and Childbirth, Sexual Assault.

⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐

🔥Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 🔥

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

Later in the afternoon, Astarion’s thoughts were more inclined to getting his reports done swiftly so he could get home and tend to the sexual appetites he had stoked within you. The taste of your blood in his mouth was exhilarating, and his fangs twitched at the memory of the rich and lustrous flavour.

While he worked, he couldn’t keep the small smile from his face. Nor could he stop his mind from wandering into other sordid fantasies he was planning on conjuring, should he be inclined to try out some role play and make use of his recently acquired magistrate attire. Oh, the possibilities made him chuckle.

Still smiling to himself, he continued working on the pile of reports on his desk. He needed to discuss the ongoing issues concerning the Bhaalinist rabble with Wyll, as well as the lack of prison space to house those criminals captured. Astarion had suggested publicly executing them to deter the other members, but Wyll wanted to opt for a more humane approach to the matter. If Baldur’s Gate were to hope to retain its trading routes and stop the trafficking and murder of its citizenry, then the roads and the metropolis itself needed to be made safer. So many things had caused law and order to be thrown into the air, but with Astarion’s appointment, the governing system had been put to rights. At least to some degree. There was still much to do, and a lot of damage control to be carried out.

Regardless of all the arduous work that needed to be done and the pining to once more explore the world with his beloved, his work as magistrate made him somewhat happy. Since you had walked into his life, you had inspired and taught him a plethora of things. If he could help others, then he knew he could one day forgive himself for the sins of his past.

Yelping suddenly, he yanked his hand away from the strands of sunlight that shone through the high windows, staring down at the scorched flesh in a daze. Had he just imagined that? Cautiously, he stretched out his hand once more, immediately yanking it back from the burning pain.

“Shit!”

You had obviously taken off the ring. But he knew it would take the gods to pry the ring from your finger. You were always so adamant and quick to remind him to never take it off himself. Thus, for you to do so was unthinkable.

It had to have been an accident.

Alas, he could feel a sudden tightness in his chest. Something was wrong, he could tell. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, and a feeling of absolute despair was consuming his non-beating heart.

Something was very, very wrong.

He knew exactly where you would have been. At the Sundries.

But he could not leave his office, nor the Halls of Justice, in which streamers of sunlight shone through the glass ceilings of the main hall. He called out to his secretary, a burly dwarf by the name of Gendry. The dwarf seemed somewhat miffed having been separated from his work.

“Yes, Magistrate?” He grumbled before his eyes gaped in surprise. “Magistrate, you’re burnt!”

Astarion rolled his eyes and groaned, “I can see that, Gendry! Now be a good dwarf and close the shutters.”

Gendry set to the task immediately. “Do you think something has happened to Lady Tavrin?” He asked as he pulled closed the last shutter.

“I am uncertain,” Astarion responded, concern lacing his voice, “But, Gendry, I need you to go to the Sundries as quickly as you can and inform the wizard. He can send word to the others quicker than a carrier pigeon with his magic. Have him go to the house to check on Tavrin. I have a dreadful feeling in my gut that something has happened.”

“Yes, Magistrate. I will hurry there immediately!” Gendry saluted and ran out the door.

Astarion stood there in the darkness of his office, staring at the shutters with a grim expression. It was the first time since he had been with you that he had felt utterly hopeless.

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

You groaned, a throbbing ache spreading across your face and head like a wildfire. There was a foul smell, like the stench of rotten eggs, permeating the air. You also heard a steady dripping somewhere. Your eyes strained to see in the dim torchlight, which illuminated the dank prison cell you had been thrown into. The ground was made of stone and covered in filth and grime, and you could feel the coldness seep through the cotton of your clothes.

Slowly, you tried to sit up, yet a great agony ripped through your side. Had your ribs been broken? You could not entirely tell, but the pain was significant enough to render you unable to move. You felt nauseated, and the cold and damp of your surroundings were not helping.

You could not see your hands, for they were tied behind your back.

“Well, isn’t this a sorry sight?”

The voice echoed throughout the room, and you struggled to turn your head.

“You may have banished our masters, Bhaalspawn, but you have not ridden the world of all of us.”

You recognised the voice.

“Yet,” you spat. “You should have remained dead, Faceless!”

No sooner did you speak those words did her steel spiked boots smash into the side of your face. You cried out, rolling onto your knees to move away your pounding head. You tasted the warm iron of your own blood and fought a sob, feeling the jagged bones grind against each other in your face. The ripping of your cheek skin brought more of your crimson liquid into your mouth.

She had been a fellow disciple of the cult and had looked up to you when once the dark urge had control of your senses. She always wore a hooded cloak and black mask, and no one knew her appearance. No one knew why. Rumour was that you had melted the skin from her face in years passed during a fit of rage. She had revered you anyway. You, the Bhaalspawn.

Yet, you could not remember what you had done to her, or to others. You could remember nothing from before the tadpoles, at least not where your adult life was concerned. All you could remember was your horrid childhood and adolescence. All you could remember right then was the pubescent drow boys ganging up on you and violating you, and the trauma of the event triggering your abilities with wild magic... the boys screaming as your hands fried them... and then blood... blood everywhere...

You pushed the agonizing thoughts and pain aside as you knelt defiantly on the cold, crimson-stained stones. Another boot met your flank. This time you withheld the groan as a dark chuckle filled the air.

“You’re nothing but the worthless scum of a drow!” Faceless hissed at you.

Oh, she was bitter about her defeat and no doubt the one responsible for what happened to you. How could she even possibly have survived your previous encounter? She should have been dead.

“At least I am not Orin’s shadow!” You spat the blood that had been flooding your mouth onto the ground at your side.

Faceless grimaced. “You were regarded higher than Orin! You were the chosen one! You were...”

“I banished Bhaal from my heart for a reason! I will not drag myself to this pitiful cult’s level ever again!”

Another kick to the gut.

“You forget your place, wielder of destruction!’”

You hissed at her in response.

Faceless squatted to the side of you. “There are other ways of disposing a person other than burning the flesh from their bones.”

“You intend to kill me, then?” You rasped, your voice hoarse and laboured. “Fucking try it, you cunt!”

The cackle that came from Faceless sent a chill down your core. Her laughter became sinister, mocking. Your muscles spasmed and your skin prickled in absolute revulsion.

“We’re going to break you,” she growled.

With her foot, she lifted your face upwards, revealing the swelling, blood and bruises. “And let us hope your darling vampire lover burns to ash first.” She held up your ring to your face and you could only just discern it through the puffiness of your eyes.

“Astarion!” You coughed up more blood.

“It would be a shame if that pretty boy had no place to hide.” She bent forward again, her gauntleted finger tracing the indentation of your upper cheek where the skin was ripped. She leaned closer, pulling back her cowl, the mangled skin barely covering her cheekbones and nose, with a white and an amber eye glaring down upon you.

She took in a deep waft of your scent.

“I smell him on you, and not just his cologne...” She grinned wolfishly and bit her lip, her voice becoming breathy. “My, my, my, little vixen, has that icy touch of his turned you?”

“FUCK OFF!”

She snatched you by the neck at your outburst.

You kicked and squirmed in her grasp, but it only made her choke you harder. With the collar around your neck, you could not use the weave. With your body bound and bloodied, you could barely move, let alone resist. The two ghouls that were standing in the room's corner drew their claws and inched towards you both.

“Can I give her another taste of discipline?” One of them spoke.

Faceless snorted and kicked you in the side again. Your coughing did nothing to dislodge the blood in your throat.

“Take her to the rack. Let us flay the little whelp.”

One took you by the hair whilst the other grabbed your legs. The mangled armour of the monsters clinked as they dragged you down a long, dimly lit and winding corridor. You were somewhere deep underground. That, at least, you could tell.

Once through the iron barred doors they brought you to, the stench of old, rotted blood and decaying flesh was almost palpable. It was stifling, and you found it hard to draw breath as the noxious air clogged your nostrils.

In the very middle of the vast room was an iron-railed stand containing four chains on either side. They looked decrepit; the metal green with moss and mould. Grotesque, crusty remains on the floor beneath the contraption made your stomach roll. The smell was becoming overbearing, and you tried swallowing to stop your retches. You wondered how long those unfortunate prisoners had lingered there before being brutally murdered.

Faceless beckoned to her lackeys. Your ropes were cut, giving you but a second of reprieve before you were chained to the stand. Faceless leaned forward once more and licked the tears and blood from the corner of your swollen eye.

The two guards strapped your ankles to the irons and slid their palms over your legs, gripping your thighs greedily like rabid dogs.

With a nod from their mistress, they began tearing off your clothes with their claws, wailing loudly at the scent of the blood that stained your legs.

“Oh, what is this?” Faceless came towards you, eying the junction of your thighs.

“She bleeds...” One ghoul moaned, the sound so starved it frightened you.

You drew a sharp breath when her now ungloved fingers traced the split between your legs. You spat at her, but your wrists had been manacled and pulled high above your head. Faceless smirked and lapped up your juices. She then hummed as she looked back at you curiously. Without a word, she dove her fingers into you, scraping her nails painfully around the inside. You screamed at the pain, but you were helpless to resist. You wanted to tear that smug grin right off her wretched face.

Withdrawing her fingers she sucked upon them, savouring their flavour while watching every inch of expression change across your paled features. “Interesting...”

“Can we taste her, mistress? Have we not been good?” One ghoul hissed hungrily through its gnashing teeth. Half of its jaw had rotted off, and you writhed in disgust.

“No.” Faceless put out her hand abruptly to stop them from advancing. They stopped dead in their tracks at her command.

“Despite her bleeding, she is with child, and to a vampire at that. How curious, indeed...”

What?

But your voice was a mere gurgle in your throat.

“Oh, I am going to have so much more fun torturing you now!” She laughed wickedly, taunting you with the flail she now held in her hands.

The ghouls shifted their hungry eyes towards you and laughed along with her.

“When will we get our fill of this pretty piece, Mistress? We have never eaten drow.”

You thrashed uselessly against the shackles and the blood dripping from your naked body had pooled on the floor between your feet, mingling with the dry crust of the previous victim.

The scent was bringing the ghouls closer until Faceless’ sharp orders once more stopped their feral nature from taking over. “When it is our turn to feast? “

Their excited hissing filled your ears as Faceless lifted your head to lick her prey’s face. You turned it, grunting against the sudden flash of agony as her next words filled you with even more terror.

“Yes, let us feast after the Magistrate’s love bleeds her final.”

“Astarion...” But your entire world faded into nothingness.

#astarion #astarion daddy #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion my beloved #astarion has a child with Tav #Nightfall Heir #dadstarion

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