#;; EDDIE ;; self ; visage.

[h-a-unted]

Emergency Override

[miercolaes]

️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️️ ️️️️️️️️️️️️️WOE TO THE TAGS

𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝖎.

♱ character study. ♱ interactions. ♱ visage. ♱ aesthetics. ♱ vero stfu. ♱ prompts. ♱ starter calls. ♱ dynamic calls. ♱ wishlist. ♱ saved. ♱ headcanons. ♱ promos. ♱ self promos.

𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝖎𝖎.

♱ v : nevermore's woe ♱ v : hogwarts's woe ♱ v : hawkins's woe ♱ v : soldier king and poet's woe ♱ v : mystic church's woe ♱ v : woodsborro's woe ♱ v : detective's woe ♱ v : shadyside's woe ♱ v : unhinged woe ♱ v : another woe

𝖆𝖈𝖙 𝖎𝖎𝖎.

♱ dyn : caed / prettybrawler : are you flirting or starting a fight? ♱ dyn : eddie / freakarus : forever trusting who we are. ♱ dyn : jane / janessaives : we make a really good team. ♱ dyn : nausicaä / wickedslip : must be the season of the witch. ♱ dyn : katherine / malka-lisitsa : i'll see you in hell. ♱ dyn : xavier / dreameasel : tragic backstories & height differences. ♱ dyn : chrissy / havvkinsqueen : by your side until the very end. ♱ dyn : name / url : cutesy quote.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Is it love ? ✧

Plot : You notice how your boyfriend is more comfortable in the relationship.

The evening stillness enveloped you both in its tranquil cocoon after that grueling match. Bodies utterly depleted yet gloriously sated in the afterglow of Rin's latest dominant performance on the pitch.

You lounged together atop the rumpled bedsheets, one of your novels dangling lazily from your fingers as the wandering twilight spilled through the curtains in molten rivulets.

Rin's tousled black mane fanned out across your bare thighs where his head lay pillowed.

Impossibly long lashes fanned across those chiseled aristocratic features in repose while you drank in every detail illuminated by the dying embers.

An unbidden smile tugged at your lips remembering the raw intensity blazing from Rin's prussian blue gaze earlier while he sliced through the opposition's defenses with those transcendently honed predatory instincts.

Moving with such decisive, ruthless efficiency and power that even you'd found yourself shamelessly aroused just witnessing the sheer dominance emanating from his physique in motion.

Yet here cradled against you now, all those razor edges appeared to soften and blunt beneath your delicate ministrations gradually gentling the ferocious beast-like focus into blissful languor.

Your fingers idly trailed in hypnotic eddies through the silken strands spilled carelessly about Rin's face and chiseled jawline.

An indulgent purr rumbled past that sensuous pout, the sound alone igniting frissons erupting across your skin in waves of tingling adulation.

Just picturing those plush lips closing around your flesh in searing caresses, their insistent possession devouring you wholly.

How privileged you suddenly felt anew that the real Rin Itoshi entrusted only you with tenderly cradling his unguarded state, permitting his steely edges to temporarily blunt into malleable putty under your adoring attentions alone.

Relinquishing every rigid defensive barrier keeping the world at calculated arm's length so only you may reverently stroke the fire smoldering behind those blazing sapphires into embers of pure intimacy burning for you alone...

After all, in those initial weeks and months you'd dated, Rin kept you rigorously held at a distance equivalent to every other unworthy human swarming on the peripherals of his stratospheric orbit.

Not to mention you'd absorbed the full brunt of his exquisitely chiseled disdain and acid tongue yourself more times than you cared to recollect.

All defenses fortified full tilt while his imposingly statuesque figure radiated icy removal a thousand miles away.

Yet persistent glimpses you caught of infinitely warmer embers flickering behind those piercing irises even when directed your way steadily chipped through the glacial facade you grew determined to fully thaw.

Just like the electrifying jolts that ignited your core whenever that lithe, predatory frame moved with calculated leonine grace in your proximity.

You'd relished the rare occasions Rin's granite visage fractured into grudging half-smirks while imparting casual flashes of searing charisma and roguish charm beyond his control before that mask snapped back into place.

Or the indescribable rapture transmitted through your linked gazes as you cheered every match from the sidelines pouring encouragement and admiration into fueling Rin's already blazing fire...

Each coveted moment and incremental surrender ultimately amassed into the indescribable privilege of him voluntarily cutting you inside the electric fence securing that inner world and true self Rin guarded so obsessively.

You who'd painstakingly persisted through the sharpest rebukes and dismissals to ignite the minuscule spark of tenderness now cradled so intimately between you both in this hushed space.

Closer than anyone else could ever hope to penetrate.

So your luminous smile only intensified gazing down at the proud yet boyishly tranquil visage you alone witnessed in slumbering repose.

More enamored than ever witnessing the wondrous metamorphosis you'd catalyzed through steadfast patience and adoration.

Until the quintessentially formidable Alpha of Rin Itoshi became the cherished diamond radiating prismatic warmth from his core in your loving embrace alone.

[theshippirate22]

I have a theory

listen up bitches (gender neutral) (affectionate) i’ve been cooking this for an incredibly long time and i’m very very excited to share it but it is gonna be long so i’m putting it under a cut

my theory is that there has been a new set of archetypes created by popular m/m media either in canon or coding and i would love if it was more widely recognized by a distinct name so here we go:

I present to you: The Mirrorball x Running Up That Hill Boyfriends™️ Theory

i need to preface this by saying that i am absolutely not an english major or expert but i have done so much analysis that i’m 98% positive i’m on to something here

so usually mlm ships- at least in my experience- get boiled down into typical Grumpy x Sunshine, Golden Retriever x Black Cat, or like. Babygirl x Badass. and i hate that because those are like really watered down hetero romance stereotypes and i think queer people deserve to get our own archetypes instead of trying to force queer characters into prepaid boxes but that’s a story for another day so:

basically, all content with widely accepted mlm ships (even if they are more in coding than in canon) has this pattern with the ship that fits into Mirrorball x Running Up That Hill

(name pending- open to suggestions)

Boyfriend No.1 of course is the epitome of Mirrorball by Taylor Swift (i know, i know. bear with me here). He’s constantly trying to prove himself and his worth and usually he’s driven to hide or overcome 1-3 specific and intense insecurities/character flaws. He often has innate loyalty to a system or person who has repeatedly abused/neglected/abandoned him and thinks that this treatment is a result of his own character rather than a reflection of the abuser. In relation to the plot and audience, this is the “more dangerous” of the two because he’s so desperate to hold onto the status quo that he’ll often act in a way that makes things more difficult for himself, often by leaving Boyfriend No. 2, sacrificing himself, or doing “the wrong thing.” He also commonly has an older male figure that is breathing down his neck constantly, haunting his perceived inadequacies, and fueling his self-loathing. He’s constantly mischaracterized because he’s either boiled down to “the silly one” or a visage of his trauma and the people that relate to love these characters are usually extremely sad people. Usually this character is also the “mean girl” of the couple.

Examples of the Mirrorball boyfriend: Dean Winchester, Aziraphale, Stede Bonnet, Lucius Spriggs, Sherlock Holmes, Eddie Munson, Mike Wheeler, Prince Rupert, etc.

Boyfriend No. 2 then, is the Running Up That Hill Boyfriend, based of course, on the song by the same name by the perfect Kate Bush. He’s the one that’s seen The Horrors™️ and gained a layer of cynicism that Mirrorball doesn’t have. He was once loyal to something that used/hurt him but he rejected it and used his newfound freedom to restructure his entire personality and reach his much higher potential. Usually, he has passed so far from having a few insecurities to perceiving himself as utterly worthless and unlovable but he’s so convinced that it doesn’t even haunt him, he just goes with it and usually comes off looking overly-confident or cocky. This is The Bitch (affectionate)™️. There’s probably a scene of him covered in blood. This is The Girls’ favorite blorbo and ultimate whump. He tends to be really good with kids and he’s the kind of character that would and often has to CLAW a life out for himself by his fingernails.

Examples of the Running Up That Hill Boyfriend: Castiel, Crowley, Ed Teach, Black Pete, John Watson, Steve Harrington, Will Byers, Prince Amir, etc.

unfortunately i haven’t seen a lot of popular queer stuff so if you can think of other mlm or mlm shaped characters that fit into these archetypes please please please tell me

i’m specifically curious about:

-Hannigram (Hannibal)

-Buddy (911) (@criminally-obsessed if you would mind weighing in but obviously no pressure)

-Lokius (Loki) (@henderdads same thing)

-Any of the marauders but specifically WolfStar

-Stucky (MCU)

-RWRB (i’m so sorry i don’t remember the guys’ names)

-Nick and Charlie (Heartstopper)

-What We Do In the Shadows has one I think?

-literally anyone else please and thank you 🙏🙏 love you all

if you want like explicit examples of each piece for a character lmk for sure because i could talk about this all day long

[mrsjellymunson]

I might need to sample the merchandise…tell me more about rockstar!eddie and his hookup? 👀

Oh, okay, yes, well… *gets comfy*

This is a miniseries of three blurbs with a repeating format that my brain slid into and really enjoyed. There’s angst, feelings denial, self-depreciation, all the really fun stuff 😅 and I’m titting about with some of the language but they’re almost done.

Here’s a sample from (i): So What?

Eddie’s known for a long time that he has to safeguard his emotions. The rockstar lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to the formulation and nurturing of healthy, well-balanced relationships.

Which is what he tells himself every time you visit, whenever he’s in town in his serviced apartment for long enough to make the call.

He’d never tell you that he looks forward to your visits more and more each time. That he longs for the end of every tour sooner and sooner now, because of you.

He’d never tell you that thinking of you is what keeps him going on the long nights away. That his mind substitutes the visages of nameless groupies for yours. That in his head the bitterness of the cocaine on his gums is replaced by the taste of you.

Just be aware that if you vote for this one, you’re risking the delay of all of the others by even longer. Not that I want you to feel responsible for that in any way, shape or form. At all. Even a little bit. I’m just sayin’… 😉😛👀

[american-dream-novel]

JUDI HERRON.

twenty-seven. she/her. jack of all trades.

VISAGE.

6'0''. Often described by others as boney and bird-like. Chestnut, straight hair that stops at her mid-back. Pale skin with pink undertones. Has no piercings, but is covered in a bunch of tattoos she got for free from friends and acquaintances that were tattoo apprentices or simply were feeling charitable. The only tattoo she's ever paid for is her Three of Swords tattoo on the back of her neck. Judi has no "typical" outfit and is pretty consistent in switching things up. However, a classic from her teenage years that she can never give up is a pair of cargo shorts and one of her innumerable band tee. closest visual reference is Ethel Cain/Hayden Anhedonia.

PERSONA.

forms deep attachments with people rather quickly; a daydreamer who gets quickly caught up in the fantasy and radical potential of a new person.

flighty, anxious-avoidant, terrified of commitment but also craves it desperately from other people

Eventually grew tired of the song and dance of exposing oneself — of becoming intimate — so now she wears everything on her sleeve so as to better hide in plain sight what she is truly ashamed of. Think extroversion as a subconscious way of keeping people at arm's length but also to avoid having to be by yourself.

wants people to write ballads about her and make art in her honor; would also laugh in your face and pretend to throw up if you ever asked to do as such

incredibly kind; charitable feels like the wrong word because she's very much a person involved in mutual aid and that's not the way she understands her community work. Uplifting, your personal hypeman, incredibly loyal often without due cause.

struggles with being overly critical; often self-sabotages potential connections because of this trait. She also almost never voices what's wrong — she'll just drop your ass.

a wandering soul, literally and metaphorically; her feelings are fickle and ever-changing. She feels lost, and she's always coming up with a new thing that will fix the hole inside her.

HISTORY. tw: brief mention of suicide, transphobia, addiction, child-abuse

born in Silver Springs, Michigan in the Sunny Trails Trailer Park. Her mother left when she was a toddler, and for the rest of Judi's childhood, it would be her, her older brother Joey, and her father. no better way to say this — she grew up acutely white trash.

was neighbors with Eddie, but partially the reason why they were so close was because her father and his uncle were both deacons of the same church.

her father was a machinist at a die-cutting parts manufacturer along with being an alcoholic. Primarily, Judi suffered from neglect that Joey, who's ten years older, stepped in to mitigate. Didn't prevent the worst of her father's behavior from impacting her, especially as she became more aware of her identity.

Came out when she was 15 and started to socially transition; her family was not accepting, including her brother and Eddie. This shocked Judi as she knew her brother was closeted gay and Eddie was, well, Eddie. Gets close to Birdie and her girlfriend during this time.

Leaves home at 17 once Birdie leaves and Joey commits suicide. She's been a leaf on the wind since, starting HRT when she was 18.

WHERE IS SHE NOW?: Rare for Judi to stay in one place for more than two or three years. In fact, it's more common for her to stay long enough to fulfill a year-long lease and then split again. However, she's one of the few people who can move to a completely new place and make a whole group of friends and completely integrate herself into the local scene in a matter of a few months. She likes to joke that she has friends across all major metropolitan cities in the USA.

METAPHORICALLY... why is she a cannibal? There's an element to Judi's core that will never feel like she's enough, that she will always be outside of some grander human experience. Humanity and its diversity fascinate her — hence why she's so all-over-the-place in terms of her passions and pursuits. She is an extrovert who loves hearing other people's life stories, in part because she desires to be close to others but cannot bare the thought of the intimacy required to do so. Her cannibalism, thus, is a way for her to remain connected to her humanity but is also a manifestation of the ways she still feels inhuman, othered, ostracized. I'm also tooling with the idea that when she eats someone, she experiences their memories, and I think something about this out-of-body experience appeals to her addictive personality and also helps her feel more connected to people. If Birdie's core theme is repression, Judi's is isolation, and I see her cannibalism being representative of that.

AESTHETICS ° STYLE

[tangleweave]

The face of Venom slides fully into place over Eddie's half-revealed visage in the momentary silence following Their statement of identity. And it is with Their singular utterance, that which says all and afears virtually any who hear it, that Eddie feels his heart racing all the faster. It translates into a more pronounced pulse along the silver spider-web lines of Their faux vascular system, a persistent thudthudthud that he can feel echoing in his own ears. It is a moment of sheer delicacy wrapped in the brutal presentation of the creature whose physical image he has sculpted into his personalized image of perfection and terror. An angel's sense of purpose, a desire to do good, trapped in the skin of a devil.

Or is this perhaps how some angels were always meant to appear? Because after all, is not the entirety of Creation owed to the inspiration of the Almighty? Is there any image or notion which occurs to man or monster, alien or machine, which was not first conceived and designed by the Divine? Even the most cursory glance at the panoply of Terran nature is proof enough that flora and fauna are all wondrous in purpose and diversity. And Earth is only one planet among countless others in the cosmos.

Who is Eddie Brock, then, to say what is and isn't an angel?

Beth. Beth is an angel.

At the very least… she is Their angel. And it is no more evident than in these moments, when she shifts closer, her fingers reaching out to seek the kind of connection she can trust: touch. She never quite makes it there, and They can't blame her for it... she still needs to take it in. Not that They would ever cause her harm, A brush of her hand can banish the cold and can deal a blow against the sadness, the despair, the indignity that plagues Eddie. In all this time, he has never denied her permission to touch him, and has steadily grown bold enough to seek contact with her unprompted.

That she recoils a little from Them at the sight of Their transformation, hand over her mouth, seems only natural, given the way in which his Other seemed to swallow his head. And They can only imagine the way words must be bouncing around the interior of her skull, a desperate search for some manner of eloquence with which to respond to Their declaration.

Their truth.

And They can already sense the response of her body. They restrain Theirself from letting Their prehensile tongue drag through the air between Them and her, but that doesn't stop the air passing through Their teeth from delivering the taste and scent of her pheromones clouding the vicinity. A Klyntar can perceive on the thermal spectrum, a necessary component for the survival of a species that may or may not have functioning eyes at any given moment; so it is that Venom can tell the warmth suffusing every inch of her skin is not merely captured radiance from some other source. It is hers, hers alone, the widening of every capillary in her body, flooding her with Life and adrenaline and dopamine. The dilation of her pupils and the quickened pace of her breath tell Them, too, that even though she is putting a span of distance between Them and herself, it is not out of an instinct for flight. No, this is a different form of self-preservation she employs. And she is most certainly right to do so.

Physical responses cannot lie, any more than He can lie to Eddie… and her first reaction to seeing Him was to ask if He knew His own beauty. But none of it means she will accept Them. Not without her explicit, unwavering consent. They are dedicated to that no less now than Eddie was only minutes ago when he had entreated her to make her own choices, no matter how much he might want her to choose him. They have all taken leaps of faith. They cannot possibly know the sturdiness of the net far beneath the clouds through which they now descend.

Eddie's heartbeat slows when she politely, and rightly, pumps the brakes. What else could she possibly be expected to do? She's absolutely correct, the amount there is to process could stun a herd of wild oxen in its tracks. Even so, he cannot entirely help the slow sag of Their shoulders when she withdraws physically all the more, paces about, and says it should be tabled. Just as she can't be expected to take it all in stride from the word 'go', neither should They expect things can simply pick up where they left off.

The important part, Eddie, is that Your inertia has been overcome. From here, it is a matter of gauging the proper momentum. Begin slowly. You do not wish to be crushed under the weight of all You mean to bear. Nor do I wish that for You.

It is Beth's invitation to remain, however, that causes Their pulse to tick back up by the slightest degree. Their oil-slick brow rises, causing Their blank eyes to widen in surprised pleasure. And now Their teeth part, allowing Their tongue to probe the air in nerve-wrought curiosity -- the nerves are Eddie's, the curiosity his Other's. But when Eddie notices the tongue wagging about, he realizes the tell might be misunderstood, and chooses to allow that much more space between them to allay any fears of Their intentions.

She doesn't think her bedframe will support Them. But that she even remarks on that notion… means that she's thinking about Eddie occupying her bed. Which further confirms she's only pressing the Pause button -- not Rewind. His body warms to a reflection of her own within the sconce of his Other's protection. There's more for her to learn, and she's willing.

So are They.

Venom slowly rises up to Their full height, a shade above seven feet. Were They to advance a step, They would absolutely tower over Beth, but that isn't Their intent; rather, They take one step back, and slowly lower Theirself to a knee.

Their first offering of address is the question she poses about her native language. At that inquiry, Venom's grin widens to circle nearly around Their head. "Ua aʻo mākou."

After a beat, the blank eyes and razor-toothed maw peel away, revealing Eddie's visage once more. Small black-and-silver veins frame his face, scaling his neck and temples. He offers a smile that lies somewhere between assuring and slightly embarrassed.

"I'm not… very good at learnin' new languages," he confesses. "Tried French in middle school, didn't work out. Got B-minuses in Spanish in high school. But my Other here, He's meant to learn. Every time you'd say somethin' in Hawai'ian, I, uh… I wanted to understand. More'n I ever wanted with high school coursework. So when you'd be at work, I'd go to the library an' try to learn somethin' about Hawai'ian. An' He's learned with me."

A wry smile touches his lips. "Now He knows it way better'n I do, which is sorta typical. My accent's terrible, I only know a few words here'n there, it'd take me years to be conversational. But now He can translate stuff for me if I need. An' I don't regret tryin'. It's somethin' We have now."

An enormous black-wrought hand lifts up, taloned fingers extended, palm open -- an invitation for her to place her own in it, if she so chooses.

"You inspire me, Beth. An' if you really mean it... uhm..." His forehead creases as he summons forth the words he hopes aren't too garbled.

"... E noho au."

Eddie // Venom​:

Eddie feels a profound sense of shame flooding through him the more he realizes that, moment after moment, Beth continues to stay in the room – on the couch, even in physical contact with him – while she processes all the things he tells her. He had thought he’d feel suitably humiliated if she’d either chased him out or fled screaming, but if it’s possible, he’s beginning to think this is arguably even worse an experience. Because her reaction is so removed from his expectation that he doesn’t know how to take it in.

She’s taking each fact he presents. Turning it over between her hands, her ears, her eyes. Rolling it around her mouth to see how it feels to say. And she has a hard time seeing him as what he says he used to be… which is, perhaps, a hopeful prospect, because he can’t for a single moment imagine her wanting anything to do with that man. He knows himself to be the most unreliable of narrators, but he remembers a lot of despair, sadness, and maliciousness… all stemming from the same place. A place with no justice and no hope.

He can’t remember the exact moment he had decided that he would make Hell a place more bearable for others, if not for himself. Nor does he remember if it was both him and his Other who made that choice both in concert and consciously. But that sense of purpose had given Them something to hold onto.

Just the look on her face when he manifests the tentacle to retrieve her shirt for her speaks volumes. It isn’t a stare of horror, but a gaze of slack-jawed fascination. Even more so when he shares Their name with her. Their true name, the one They chose together to define the avatar of Their unity.

The grin she flashes at him, and her softly spoken question, is almost enough to dismiss the pounding of embarrassment in his heart. And he does his best to respond to her enthusiasm with playfulness. A hope that maybe something can be salvaged here. “Can be,” he acknowledges. “If We really want. Depends on who we bite.”

When she offers her apology for needing to process, and withdraws physically from him, his forgiveness is instantly given, and an unhealthy dose of self-loathing rises within him like bile after too much tequila. (Not that he’s had any in quite some time.) Creases appear in his brow as he fights to bear down upon all the hateful things he would say to himself – and his Other murmurs quiet comfort to him. Do not jump to conclusions, Eddie. You have done that enough. Let her speak to Us.

And speak to Them, she does… first, waving away the notion that They hunt, kill, and consume people. A nurse. A medical professional, sanctioning… that? And surely it must be because if what she says of herself is true, then she understands certain imperatives transcend the notion of morality. The only reason morality is even a consideration in what They do is because of Eddie’s influence. His Other would have no qualms about killing the weak, the corpulent, in the name of survival. But Eddie only cooperates when his own imperative is considered. There are many who are frail of body but strong of spirit and kind of heart. Eddie wants nothing to do with their deaths.

It is why Their hybrid form has a reputation, and one to uphold. Venom does not kill the innocent. He devours the guilty.

And then she speaks again… more specifically, to Him. Not Eddie, but his Other. Staring through Eddie’s eyes and into the depths beyond, where his alien bondmate lurks in silent wait. Far more patient than Eddie ever has been. And something dark and desirous blooms within Him when she offers to be whatever He needs, when she offers to give Him whatever He must have in order to survive.

Eddie would be troubled by it, except that he’s hung up on Beth stating aloud how much she cares for him. And if put upon to think about it later – and indeed he will, tonight and many nights after – he’ll begin to wonder if this is something that could truly work. For the first time in his life, a relationship that could be defined by the things he’s done right. By the secrets not kept. By the sacrifices freely offered. By the lack of compromise, simply because compromise isn’t necessary.

She’s… she’s… offering herself. To Us.

And all it took was to tell her the truth.

No… no, of course that wasn’t all it had taken. These months of slow buildup. Of getting to know one another. Of steadily growing closer, of spending each day looking forward to one another’s company just a little bit more than the last, until all of Eddie’s thought had been bent every single day on what he could do to make her happy, see her smile, get her to light up… and god what a beautiful thing it was, and is, every time. It strikes him to the core of his being to see the little crinkles around the bridge of her nose, the fluttering of her eyelashes. Even seeing her hand shift up, or her dragging the neck of her hoodie or a throwpillow against the lower half of her face… because it means she’s smiling, no matter how she hides it.

It had taken every single day. Every hour, every moment. She wouldn’t make such an offering to just anyone.

She moves on, to tell Them what she truly is. And here, it’s Eddie’s turn to stare with slack-jawed admiration. Though he himself is fully human and can’t shapeshift on his own, with the help of his Other he can embody the appearance of many things. They could look like a tree if They wanted… albeit one covered in black sludge. They’ve been known to hide in swamps before, indistinguishable from muck. Animal forms? Anything a human body could be hidden inside. A powerful steed. A towering giraffe. A thoughtful elephant or a rampaging rhinoceros. They’ve even adopted the forms of mighty dinosaurs, when the occasion suited.

But sharks? They’ve never attempted to embody the shape of a waterborne creature. And hearing Beth speaking of her origins, both genetic and cultural, tells Them both that perhaps They were right to refrain… yet now, it’s also something They wonder if They should try. And if so… where? The bay?

Their train of thought is derailed when she casually throws away a remark and a joyless laugh about being unable to breed a new member of her tribe. She may intend it as something to be dismissed, but to hear the shift in her tone strikes as deeply into Eddie as her smile ever does… but in just the opposite way. He wants to ask her more on the matter, but now can’t possibly be the right time for it. She’s already shared so much, poured it all out as an equal exchange of what Eddie has given to her. It’s nearly as humbling as…

As the thought of there being someone watching every moment that’s happened between them.

His face burns with the realization. There is simply no way to get around this one. The fact of the matter is, she’s right to be apprehensive. She’s far more within her rights for it than he ever will be. Every single glance and touch shared, every shy smile, every nudge and joke, every suggestive word and probing question… and tonight, every kiss and every inch exposed…

It wouldn’t have led to the pinnacle of physical intimacy. Not tonight. It’s all too new. Neither of them would have been ready for such a physical commitment. He knows this. But had they reached a point where it could have gone further… and if he’d still not told her of his Other… no. He doesn’t want to imagine the ramifications of that. Suffice it to say, he doubts the prospect of being… something… with her could have survived that lie of omission.

Her touch to his cheek sends cool waves to his nerves. If there’s a reverse sensation to being slapped, she delivers it here. It is a comfort which Eddie could scarcely describe if he had six months to try. Her earnestness has never been on fuller display than now, and it bids him to look into the green-amber pools of her eyes.

“S'no reason for you to be okay with it,” he says quietly, before he can stop himself. “An’ you don’t gotta explain. I knew I’d have to tell you, sooner or later… but I thought it’d scare you away, an’ I didn’t want that either. ‘Cause I don’t wanna lose you. You’ve been too good to me. To Us, even though you didn’t know there was an Us. I just… I know I couldn’t live with myself if we let it get any further, an’ you not know. I should'a told you a lot earlier than this. M'sorry I waited so long. But… now, more'n ever, I feel like if anybody in the world could ever understand why… it’s you.”

When she asks what the ‘more’ is, and for a proper introduction, an embarrassed smile and a half-laugh are made manifest, and Eddie rocks forward. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, you should definitely get to know Him for real.”

And there is no need for further invitation as a tangle of black oil-like ribbons extrude from the pores surrounding Eddie’s right shoulder blade and trapezius, wrapping together and coalescing into a singular slick tentacle comprised of living fluid. Trembling, shifting – perhaps even breathing, in its own way. The pseudopod is huge, and its forefront is semicircular, clearly not intended to be capable of grabbing, not like an octopus or a squid. And on the front of the extrusion, a pair of gleaming, raggedy-edged white eyes crack open… as does a maw of glinting, needle-like fangs, spread into a lipless rictus grin. Despite there seeming to be an end to the teeth below the far edges of those blank eyes, the borders of that mouth are not well-defined, and seem to shift as the mouth itself does.

And when it speaks, it does so in a grinding contrabass rattle that, if in contact with the floor, could very well have shaken the foundations of the building.

“Aloha ahiahi.”

Eddie glances at the face that hovers mere inches beside his own and raises his eyebrows at it. “Oh sure, you’re gonna just show me up, just like that.”

The tentacle shifts and extends further, creating a larger outward hoop, although the face itself remains at his shoulder as it turns to exchange looks with him. “The lady deserves to know what has been here this whole time, Eddie. Do not fault me for wishing to make a good impression.” He looks back to Beth. “You have questions… We will answer them.”

The tentacle bearing the Klyntar face shifts and extends again, this time placing that face at an equal distance from both Eddie and Beth, creating a triangle for gazes to be easily shared and exchanged. His attention, however, is entirely occupied by Beth, as He can hear Eddie’s thoughts as easily as his words. “I do not feel taken for granted. I am pleased to be introduced properly… which in human culture is difficult without a name, but my kind do not take them. Not without a bond. For that is our purpose. To bond at the deepest level. There are humans who will call me 'the Venom symbiote’ due to Our chosen name… and I have been made to bond with others, and then those bondings were also called 'Venom’. But it does not do justice to Us. What We have.”

“He’s always here.” Eddie taps his temple. Points to his eyes and ears. “Here and here.” Holds up one hand. “Here, too. He feels it all, same way as I do. It’s like… He’s a special extra organ, an’ every bit'uh Him, He lets me use as I need… just like I give Him every bit He needs'uh me.” A wry smile twists his lips. “The, uh, the veins an’ the eyes? It’s theatrics, mostly. He lives inside me, yeah? An’ there’s a lotta Him. I mean, a lot. Runs all the way through me, every part'a me has some bit'uh Him inside. He’ll stay under the surface most'uh the time, 'cause… well, 'cause you get why. But He can come out. Some'uh Him, most'uh Him, however much there needs to be. We can make a lotta different looks.”

“And Our favorite look… is this.”

In the moments that follow, Eddie undergoes a startling transformation, as thousands upon thousands of strands of black eject from him, wrap about his body, twist about each other… become a sheath that encases him from toes to neck… and then, Eddie’s already impressive musculature is given further definition. He seems to gain more than a foot of height, and he’s swollen beyond the proportions of any professional bodybuilder. The skin that enshrouds this new hulking form is the shade of an oil slick, catching light from many angles and then giving that light prismatic distortion before fading into the depths of oblivion. That skin is wound with gleaming silver veins that pulsate in time with Eddie’s heart… and the veins are curiously formed, looking half like a vascular system and half like a spider web that’s been torn ragged by a vicious animal.

Perhaps most notably, across his impossibly broad chest there is a pronounced, shining silver emblem… that of an enormous spider, whose legs wrap all the way about him and fuse with those of an identical emblem splashed across his back.

The tentacle bearing the face of Eddie’s Other then travels towards the human’s visage, and those fanged jaws open wide. Eddie stares up at the face of his companion, his own expression resolute, if somewhat bemused by the theatricality.

In a single lunge, the tentacle seems to swallow Eddie’s head whole – and the tendril itself recedes into the huge body of sludge and silver, while the fluid surrounding Eddie’s head twists, shifts, and morphs.

A moment later, the face that had been looking at Beth from Over There is reborn. All that was simply Eddie is now hidden away in a seamless shell that befits the physicality of a Greek god or an Asgardian.

Maybe that was a little too dramatic, bud… let’s show her I’m still here.

Let Us show her We are here together.

The right side of that monstrous, fanged face peels away in layers, revealing Eddie’s right eye, the structure of his nose… the shape of his lips. And those lips offer Beth a hopeful… perhaps even predatory… grin. To the left, his Other’s face gives a grin that is unabashedly all teeth. Their voices weave through each other as They, for the first time, speak the core truth of Their existence to her.

“We… are Venom.”

Eddie’s honesty, playful as it might be, earns him an even rarer smile. The corners of her nose scrunch in earnestness of her smile, now bordering on something close to manic, and softed only by the light that seems to burn in the depths of her gaze, a twinkle of joy from deep within her. If she moves at all it’s her body sliding forth to get just the tiniest bit closer, and offering a cat-like slow blink. “So cool.” She ought to be petrified with fear. To find repugnance as the moment unfolds and to take umbrage at the notion that she should be making the kinds of phone-calls that end with government agents in haz-mat suits and inescapable cages. She ought to feel layers of disgust and her flesh quivering for having what he tells her now only seconds ago touching her skin in such an intimate way. She ought, at the very least, be reaching for lysol and screaming. What is she actually doing? Is dying inside to reach out. To let touch tell her all of Eddie’s secrets. To caress Venom and let Them speak to her in such a way that she doesn’t have to worry about mixed signals and truncated words. What she is actually doing is picking up on Eddie’s discomfort. If she had to hazard a guess, it’s because he doesn’t understand how she can sanction murder when she is a staunch proponent of life, healing the sick and mending the broken. It’s as much of a balancing act for her as it must be for him, given the new parameters. And if he thinks about it a little later, he’ll realise he doesn’t see her eating much if any meat. She doesn’t need the temptation in her life that it represents. But she does wish she could smooth those lines on his forehead with something simple. She doesn’t care for the look in earnest. Not that she finds it unattractive so much as it’s painful to see him wrestle with himself. If it would help, and she doesn’t think it would, she would tell him that sometimes nature must be cruel not out of desire but because there’s only so many resources to go around. That sometimes the best health for any population is culling the diseased and the weak. Not a popular opinion by any means and it strikes too close to espousing the philosophy of eugenics. So she doesn’t say anything about it at all. She half wonders though when she detects a slight increase of his pulse if his symbiote is influencing him. It doesn’t happen right away. Only when she offers to serve herself up on a plate ~Eddie’s indestructible girl~ in order to maybe spare him from feeling as though he’s doing harm in the world instead of acting like a Gardener. Maybe the response is to the horror of it. That Eddie is afraid of hurting her, not really understanding the depth to which she is wired differently than almost anyone else she could name. And it chases colour through her, giving her a reason to look away. Just thinking about it makes her feel very warm, very slinky, just like Eddie’s hands and his kisses evoke sensations she thought herself largely incapable of. She wishes she could read his inscrutable expression. To glean by careful picking what he might be feeling right now, or the other part of him who must have thoughts of His own. And that, in turn sparks different things for Beth, that she doesn’t really know how to put out there because the situation is suddenly different and not anything like what she understands. There is a difference between being a third wheel and being involved with someone and their… uhm. Yeah. No, she doesn’t even have words for it. Pin in that, revisit the subject later. She also feels in the momentary silence like she’s missing out on something, a familiar old sweater kind of vibe. Which prompts the scientist in her to wonder if they have a way of communicating with one another that is purely internal, and how Eddie learned how to do that. And that feels unjust. Almost feels like something that would strike the Admiral to question in favour of giving himself permission to conduct experiments under the guise of pursuing medical data. What it actually is closer to is suddenly finding out the man you’ve been dating ~and that is exactly how she would categorise this~ is a concert pianist, or a chess grandmaster and you’re only seeing it now, after months of spending every day hoping to cross his path, making plans and knowing that when you do, a little part of you comes more to life than it has ever been. She could walk on clouds. She could glow like starlight. She can laugh and not be afraid. All because he’s given her those gifts. And knowing that he must in his own way, know what that’s like. The coffee she brought him loosened his petrified tongue. Taking time to have breakfast with him the mornings he was out and about, to unspool the tension in his shoulders and not shy away from his harsher observations. The rooftop where they’d had an amazing picnic even if she feared the dark. And heights. And pretty much every other aspect of it, except the whole spending time with him. How wearing his hoodie was like wrapping herself in one of his hugs, which she has to admit are pretty amazing. All of those days leading up to now, though, need to be re-examined when she has the time. To see if there were any clues she didn’t pick up on, any moments she should have realised they were both there. She’s not going to be upset, at least she doesn’t think so, but more curious as to how she never saw any of this coming. And maybe come to terms with the answer being…she was too busy starting to fall for Eddie even if she didn’t realise it then. Suddenly though, there’s an adrenaline spike and he’s flushing, darkest at his neck, and she half wonders if it’s because one or the other of them can hear the things she’s thinking in which case she shouldn’t really, or if he’s caught on to the realisation of what she’s said. Not exactly the most delicate way of intoning that she can’t have children and if he wants them in the future, would he have to make the choice of leaving now? Or is he capable of reproducing either, as he’s sort of being unofficially occupied by someone else. And how does his alien friend breed, or does he? Are there more of them? Would he have to find someone like himself and Eddie? As she tumbles head first into the rabbit hole of this train of thought, it never occurs to her how close she’s come to some sort of answer on that trail. If Eddie hadn’t taken that breather, if he hadn’t slowed down to tell her about his alien, then she doesn’t know where the night would have ended. His hands on her skin felt like nothing before. The long, tender kisses…those she could have traded back and forth for hours. And there’s still a seed of ache inside that…if he’d have laid her back carefully, taking things in the tiniest increments, she might have found herself wrapping her legs around his waist. They might not have chased things to their natural conclusion but she might have craved the feel of him heavy atop her, grinding his hips against hers, the slowest kind of dance. She can’t help the gaze that slides down his chest like a caress and flickers over him before she actually shakes her head and quickly makes headway back to his eyes. Even now, maybe moreso, she still isn’t taking the offer off the table, whatever he thinks otherwise. Her mouth pulls to one side. Not exactly a smile but more of a soft snort in a more physical sense. She isn’t laughing at him, but it’s hard not to be sentimental when he says something like that. It’s a little lie she doesn’t realise she’s telling. “I don’ run away. Dat’s not da way I’m built. An’ I see not’in’ makes me wanna.” She’s honoured by his belief in her, and makes herself the promise that she will never put that faith in any doubt. Relationships after all are about trust, and it can’t be one-sided. She isn’t even really mad. If anything, the idea that he’s possessed by another lifeform, it actually makes her feel better. He pads the anticipation and she feels it coil in her belly, not unlike his caresses. Her gaze darts around his face, leaving his lips and his eyes to casually peruse his body then back again, and she catches one corner of her mouth between her teeth. As his Other begins to manifest, the tension in her jaw breaks, and her mouth forms an almost perfect ‘o’. Her delicately arched brows rise, dragging her lids with them and the gasp she snatches is audible. A hand flattens across her chest. A shudder wracks her from shoulders to toes, which themselves curl under the pads of her bare feet. This is not a look of horror blossoming across the whole of her being, that can be heard in the little stuttering breaths she takes. The first thing that reaches her is the organic sound that she can hear at the edges of her periphery. Like water, like oil, like slowly churning…something…that is both familiar to her and strange and not something she can quite put her finger on. But as the sound manifests into physical form words swim up from the distant recesses of her memory. They are not her own but they suffice as poets sing of the human experience; adumbration of some transcendent mystery, the weight of star-thronged aeons, the waters of oblivion, lustre of gems darker than Lethe, flowing by midnight through the moonless slumber of poppy-scented lands, a dark universe yawning, a king not in yellow but deepest black. Another shudder rises up and still cannot call itself mortal terror. It is twin to unnamed yearning. A connection so complete that it’s like cannot be compared to anything she has ever experienced for the moment she meets opalescent eyes then drifts down to the misshapen slit of His mouth and the rows of infinite seeming ivory sharper than shattered glass.   When He bids her a good evening? Her bones rattle throughout from the vibration but it isn’t the unpleasant bit of mana she knows. It surrounds her. It resonates at a level that bypasses hearing, that it just…is. And she is aware. And maybe a few tears gather at the corners of her eyes for how unblinking she remains, or maybe from the pang of absolute beauty that is this alien being. She tries to reply in kind, manners ingrained at a molecular level but the words are little more than husks of themselves, becoming dust on the edges of her lips. “Ahhhuhhhn.” Which if anyone could have been able to translate for her, the actual words might have been closer to Fuck Me. Which those two words carry themselves in abundance at the rush of pheromones that pour through her and waft outward from each of the pulse points of her body. “Do you know…how beautiful You are?” Venom. Venom symbiote. It suddenly catches her off-guard that she may have heard something about this. Hushed whispers amongst some of her patients, likely dismissed because she had more important tasks in her service to them than paying attention to a new-sprung urban legend that seemed to not have any factual information to be obtained from the city-spirits she’d spoken to about it. Which tells her he does not strive to destroy things of this world or the casual murder of the weak and the poor and the innocent who’s care is entrusted in her. She feels her chin rise and fall in the weakest kind of nod. She glances at Eddie when the Klyntar mentions bonding with others, hoping she saw no pain or sense of rejection etched into the little lines around his eyes, though with what is said, she can hardly imagine there would be. But less than twenty minutes ago, she also didn’t know there was a genuine extra-terrestrial masquerading as her…something…while making out with her on the couch. So there’s that. “Special. Organ,” she repeats in that same wispy tone. She has no sensation of moving, and yet somehow the tips of her fingers have moved a bit closer, stopping just shy of actually touching Him. Would He feel wet? Smooth? Inky? She can imagine a sensation very much in keeping with having a hand inside of someone’s viscera, moving the fragile meat of organs around in order to repair what she must. To anyone else it might be the grossest parallel she could describe but to Beth it is something comforting, something she enjoys in her own eclectic way. She tears herself away from the budding infatuation building between the alien and her and offers that slice of her attention to Eddie fully. Only to have it ripped away again with the Klyntar’s words.  Watching the transformation is terribly and utterly beguiling. It is also not the first time she has seen anything like this, though it ~with Eddie~ is fractional degrees slower, allowing her to see every bit of the process as it happens, rather than the almost instantaneous shift she is used to witnessing. Where she knows fur or scale or denticles to appear, his is that smooth, semi-liquid encasement of tendrils. His frame grows, muscles swell, but his bones seem to remain human, something she makes mental note of. His hands and feet remain what they are, his face doesn’t change at all. He is or rather They are…all at once… Long Fins, though aesthetically pleasing and not like her sea-born kin at all, which the others call homid, Round Back ~glabro~ in which her kin lose all body hair and is even less attractive than their human shape, and Eddie seems to double in his muscle-mass and height, and finally a touch of Standing Jaws ~crinos~ which combines the versatility of a human form with the power of a shark, all within a ten-foot or larger bi-pedal frame. All the changing kin to one degree or other incite what they call Delirium. It is the overwhelming ancestral-memory all humans carry who see one of the changing breeds in their war-forms. All except their kinfolk who are entirely immune to that fear. All stemming from the three millennia when the changing breeds culled humanity to keep it in check. She’s witnessed others fall into catatonic fear, a panic that makes them bolt in terror, disbelief and a need to rationalise their hallucination, followed by loss of memory of the incident once they are far away from the situation. Beth has no such feelings; hers are abject wonder bordering on awe. A desire to feel him…Them, she supposes, under hand and tongue. To see what They might taste like, to know the texture of this form and of the Klyntar’s skin to see if it is in any way what it looks like to her. Traitorously a little voice rises up in the back of her mind and whines to be so enveloped in the cascading tenebrosity with the same willingness as a lover in the throes of passion. What catches her attention the most, and is ultimately what makes her move, sliding back and up and over the arm of the couch to put some space between them. It is both for their safety and because she’s reminded of another emblem, black on scarlet, and itself on blue. Ku’uku’u. Of course, that can’t be, there’s no logical reason for it. Perhaps she’s simply reminded that she and Eddie both came here from New York, and that Eddie has a foot on each coast. Then a tiny flare of fear does spark nervous arcings down Beth’s spine when she watches the alien seems to effectively swallow Eddie whole, and becomes the entirety of her field of vision. It is upsetting in every conceivable way. She sucks in a breath and holds it hard. Her heart slams against its cage of bone, fitful for the seeing because, she reminds herself, as much as she thinks she understands what is going on, They are not changing kin. One hand curls up around her mouth as the seconds tick loudly by in her head. And then…the revelation, the master magician’s trick. One and Neither, together and…whole. But distinct. It’s terrifying. And yet wholly seductive in its own right, especially when both their voices mingle and wash over her like midnight surf. And I…am yours… It’s the traitorous whisper again, only she manages to snap her teeth on the words before they creep out of her mouth and make the situation infinitely more awkward than it already is. She doesn’t know if she means Eddie. Or the Klyntar. Or both of them as Venom. Her hand slides away from her mouth, moving instead to her brow where she presses her palm to her skin and tilts her head away. Not because she’s horrified by all that she’s seen in such a short time but to try and catch each and every thought racing through her mind. “I…uh.” She’s given speeches before to rooms full of dignitaries and diplomats. She’s dined with Royalty, and carries her own title somewhere in the family tree, and will someday add it to a list of other things she’s inherited strictly for being a Riley. She’s charmed people at times with a turn of phrase but they aren’t coming to the fore. She’s lost any ability to articulate herself as the blood rises in her, the heat. The confusion about her feelings. She is so red now that the concept of the colour as agreed upon by most humanity is but a pale imitation compared to her body, and something of a husky giggle escapes her. About the same time as her attention focuses on something suddenly crucial in the area of the coffee table, even if her phone is charging in the bedroom. “Dis…is. Uhm. A lot to ah… a lot to…process all’a once, an’ while I’m…” Something else entirely… While I feel like I’ve finally come home… “I t’ink…” Hands come away to fill the space in front of her. Gesturing in ways that aren’t wholly communicative but it’s the sudden need for movement, and pacing simply won’t do. Another glance in Their combined direction, another glance away as she mouths the word ‘wow’ with exaggeration. She takes a few paces back, and plucks her knee length cardigan that she’d been wearing earlier from where it had been abandoned in favour of sharing Eddie’s warmth. She slips it on and wraps one side over the other before folding her arms around her waist. “You know..I t’ink…mebbe we should uh. Table dis for now. Because hones’ly I have no idea wha’ t’ say or t’ink. Probably gonna sound crazy, I know, but… I’d like it if you spent da night. Ah, you…Eddie. Not dat I would mind if you…both stay, it’s jus… I don’ t’ink my bed-frame is reinforce enough to support ya bo’d like…like you are right now.” A pause. “Wait…how you even know how f’ speak Hawai’ian?”

[vhstm]

tag dump below ( in tag list && below cut for easy softblock )

—    everything   was   blue  ;  his   pills,   his   eyes,   his   jeans.   {    eddie   munson.    }

—    well   acquainted   with   villains   that   live   in   my   bed.   {    billy   hargrove.    }

—    i   know   you   love   it   when   the   hairpins   start   to   fall.   {    steve   harrington.    }

—    now   my   mascara   runnin’,   red   lipstick   smudged.   {    musings.    }

—     my   heart   is   way   too   frozen   to   be   broken.   {    aesthetic.    }

—     in   the   night   she’s   dancing   to   relieve   the   pain.   {    visage.    }

—     in   the   night   she’s   dancing   to   relieve   the   pain.   {    el   hopper.    }

—    plastic   smiles   and   denial   can   only   take   you   so   far.   {    chrissy   cunningham.    }

—    i   get   so   wrapped   up   in   a   world   where   nothing’s   as   it   seems.   {    dustin   henderson.    }

—    being   and   feeling   alone   was   too   much   to   face.   {    will   byers.    }

—     you’re   ripped   at   every   edge   but   you’re   a   masterpiece.   {    nancy   wheeler.    }

—     life   is   stranger   than   my   dreams.   {    max   mayfield.    }

—     melodies   and   memories   ;   stories   that   sound   absurd.   {    playlist.    }

—    i’ve   been   living   in   the   state   of   dreaming   ;   living   in   a   make   believe   land.   {    queue.    }

—     my   dreams   are   my   wings.   {    ooc.    }

—    you   look   like   you’ve   been   for   breakfast   at   the   heartbreak   hotel.   {    jonathan   byers.    }

—     all   the   sadness   inside   me   melted   away   like   i   was   free.   {    wishlist.    }

—     my   demons   are   begging   me   to   open   up   my   mouth.    {    hc.    }

—     she   floats   above   the   city   lights.   {    self   promo.    }

[symbihostsis-blog]

what’s up, i’m ash, welcome to jackass, i love these losers

[inhalertm]

tag drop

[h-a-unted]

Eddie's first interaction with his daughters after returning from prison.

[facemarked-blog]

tags !!

[woednesdayaddams]

@edxmunson said : ❝ what do you say? do you have the determination to go down that path? ❞

moving to hawkins was unpleasant at first – town seemed a notch too mundane and safe, defying wednesday’s hopes. fortunately, the facade didn’t last long, strange occurrences and people missing sparking interest within. intrigue arises whenever a new name appears on a missing poster stapled on light poles. however, it becomes personal when eddie becomes the new mia, causing strange emotions. conflicting ‘till the very end, wednesday begins to acknowledge she could’ve been plagued by unnecessary emotions regarding him. after all, all individuals need one person to survive the phase in their lives and eddie is definitely the unique person that helps her throughout highschool. linking eddie to a self preservation idea feels more natural than admitting she feels attached to him.

it doesn’t come as a surprise when relief swallows her whole at the sight of her only friend. brows furrow at first, the need to ask for what happened, where did he go boiling within. she almost shows it, but is soon reminded that questioning has no purpose since he’s standing before her very own eyes. one brow rises as she carefully inspected his visage – it’s real, he’s alive and well and unbothered by the mess that took hawkins by surprise. “consider your challenge accepted.” head tilts to a side as the response is given, content that she’s no longer alone and helpless according to society. “just how dark and dangerous is this path you’re talking about?” excitement flickering in obsidian hues, he cannot deliver wednesday such an enthralling proposal and not satisfy her with a twisted description.

[wearepaladin]

Thoughts on the big five tarnished that get the big announcement in the intro? They are pretty much peak Fromsoft npc writing imo and I was really curious what you thought of each.

Hmm. Alright then, in order of introduction. Be aware of spoilers kids.

1.Horah Loux, AKA Godfrey the First Elden Lord.

Godfrey's shadow is present throughout the entire game, seconded only to Marika herself, as long before we meet him, his name and legacy both to the Demigods and the Tarnished are palpable, as we realize when he reveals his true name, is a father to both societies, divine and human. It makes the confrontation, penultimate with only the final challenge remaining afterwards all the more poignant. Because Elden Ring has a theme of dual identity and the discovery of the truth behind every mask is consistent. To Loux, Godfrey is the mask, a godlike visage from which the true warrior resides. And we, Tarnished as well as he, fight him in that moment truth as we are, connected in our shared ancestry as exiled warriors. I delighted in his challenge and the revelation of our shared ancestry. Because Horah Loux is the first Tarnished introduced, and we are the Last. Alpha and Omega, how else was it going to end?

(It's also interesting to note that Radagon, the 2nd Elden Lord we face immediately after this, proves to be a foil to Horah in his confrontation. Horah kills the beast Serosh that restrains him to be his true self, whilst the Elden Beast that controls him uses Radagon's remains to arm himself. Or, in the case of The Elden Beast and Radagon, The Beast is the true face while Radagon was the mask? Just some thoughts.)

2. The Radiant Goldmask is the 2nd of the Five Tarnished introduced, and the 1st to offer an alternative ending. Ironically, he's probably the easiest to miss among the five, silent as he is and content to do his studies of the Golden Order. A true ascetic, he is disciplined and pacifistic, and will not attempt to recruit anyone. If you wish to follow him, or learn what he seeks, you have to take the initiative on your own. He is silent, but not a void in his quest. He has a purpose,, but he will not impose it on anyone, which is more than can be said for the other two Tarnished who seek to create a Mending Rune.

I favor Goldmask among the Tarnished, sole among them who will not participate in murder and war, seeking a higher truth to aid the world for its own sake.

3. Fia the Deathbed Companion, is probably the most layered among the Five Tarnished. The one woman, no armor or weapons, or odd accoutrement. Her stated purpose is to provide comfort, which she does in her way. She's also comfortable with assassination and murder to achieve her goal, and clearly believes herself an enemy to other Tarnished.

Because Fia speaks for a minority that has no other means of communicating, seeking a freedom and absence of persecution that none appear willing to grant them. The Undead, or more accuractely, those who live in death, seeking to be their champion and creating a god for them, and laws that would defend them.

I just question if her quest is one of misplaced compassion. None of those who live in death have spoken to us, they appear to be either hostile or inert. Is she truly speaking for the dead or not? I'm still not sure beyond her interactions with the soulless remains of Godwyn

4. In contrast, The Loathsome Dung Eater is far less sympathetic and ambiguous that Fia. His isn't a quest to aid a suffering group of people, but to increase suffering. The Omen are unquestionably suffering unjustly, but unlike Fia who has a plan to protect the Undead, The Dung Eater wants to spread suffering through defilement of body and soul. He's horrendous, and even if one takes the time to seek out the eddies of ambiguity and possible alternatives, he still remains loathsome.

5. Gideon Ofnir, the Allknowing first struck me as a deliberate parallel and invocation of Allfather Odin, one ever seeking of knowledge and magic to aid his great quest. But Ofnir, the last Tarnished introduced before our Tarnished, is closer to us in motivation than the Allfather. Because as we grow stronger, for every boss we kill, Ofnir gains knowledge but little wisdom and no courage. Out of all the Tarnished, he's our direct foil, closest on the path and yet farthest away. In our quest for power to become Elden Lord, we inevitably compare ourselves and ask between the two of us who would be the true Elden Lord.

When the cataclysm comes, he is not Odin at Ragnarok, defying fate until the end to face his death, but draws his sword out of fear. He accepts whatever fate he perceives and holds to it, while we push forward to whatever the future truly is.

[bmodiwrites]

running together in the rain Steddie

Okay, nonnie - I got you. I just asked my boo thing ideas for this one & his idiocy has given me direction! This turned into being more of a like... a group date (with a bit of underage drinking, sorry), but there's definitely romance, so I got that one, at least! Here we go -

Despite his previous misconceptions, Eddie loved having a boyfriend. Until Steve came into his life, Eddie played the field, tiptoeing around commitment like a smooth criminal. As the town freak, it was much easier to dabble in rushed quickies and random hook-ups than even attempting to get to know someone enough to have them around day after day. Eddie appreciated the solitude, anyway. He loved to play the guitar and revel in his own company - dating someone absolutely took away from that.

It only made sense that Steve Harrington was the exception to that rule, when all was said and done. From the second that Dustin Henderson started talking him up, Eddie knew, deep down in his gut, that Steve belonged in his life. For a while, Eddie figured the ghost of him was okay. He built up such a visage of Steve in the time they were in school together that chipping away at that was necessary, anyway. Listening to Dustin telling stories and build him up was great leeway for actually meeting the real Steve Harrington.

And boy was the real Steve something to behold. Eddie had no idea that Steve was foolishly brave and kind. It never crossed his mind that 'the hair' cared so selflessly about others that an entire group of humans considered him their surrogate mommy. Where El was the strength and power of the rag tag team that they made, Steve stood firm as the heart of it all. Those close to him drew confidence from the stability Steve provided by being that solid foundation. Eddie was dumbfounded to realize that Steve really was the great person that Dustin made him out to be.

Which made falling into a close friendship so easy. Steve took to Eddie's teasing like a duck to water. Their senses of humor collided to make moments where Eddie couldn't feel the muscles in his stomach from laughing so hard. And while they didn't have the most similar interests, Steve had an open mind that allowed for both of their hobbies to flourish in a safe space.

Eddie didn't have to try hard to appreciate the gym and Steve never seemed to mind the music Eddie blasted whenever he got DJ privileges. Never mind the fact that they easily shared seven children that were all different in both personality and demand. The ability to fill in the blanks where the other couldn't was great for the kids, but extended much further than them, too.

They balanced each other out - so much so that Eddie didn't realize things between them were shifting from close friends to something more. It was uncomplicated to be around Steve; Eddie hadn't been able to be himself, his entire and true self, with another person in the entirety of his life. Experiencing that shift in comfortability made it impossible to find where the line actually was, or to draw it at all. And if he were perfectly honest with himself, Eddie didn't mind treading that boundary, crossing that line. Steve was naturally flirty and Eddie appreciated the rare moments he got to feel good about himself. What good would it really do to fight it?

Steve must've felt the same because their time together became cozy and intimate, regardless of whether they were alone or in the company of others. By the time that Eddie eventually grabbed Steve's face and kissed him hard, the party was letting go breaths of relief - they were tired of watching the two of them dance around each other (despite Eddie never actually perceiving the situation that way). It was so natural to have Steve by his side that Eddie forgot what solitude was; the days were better spent with someone who made his existence that much better.

So yeah - Eddie loved having a boyfriend - he loved having Steve Harrington as his boyfriend.

The longer they were together, the more their lives became intertwined. Eddie graduated by the skin of his teeth, happily ditching the lame title of high school student. With at least that credential under his belt, Eddie felt comfortable giving Wayne his bedroom back to step out on his own. Except, he wasn't alone. Steve made space for Eddie in his perpetually empty house while they both worked to save up enough to get a place of their own. The kids grew up in the short time between summer and fall, making them more like real friends than the babies Eddie tried to continue to make them out to be.

With that change in perception came a shift in the way Eddie and Steve interacted with them, too. Eddie enjoyed getting to introduce them to the slightly more rebellious things that came with growing up. Long nights of drinking and laughter created so many memories that Eddie wouldn't give up for anything, bad influence or not. And when adulting became something that took time away from nurturing that relationship, he and Steve did the grown up thing and etched out a night every couple of weeks they met up and hung out with their favorite young people.

They got together on Thursday nights at the small park at the end of Eddie and Steve's block. Since the entirety of the area they lived in was apartments, they never ran any risk of disturbing any of the suburbanites with their moderate raucous. The space had a pavilion and swings and a jungle gym that suited their purposes just fine. At the end of the night, their apartment was within walking distance; he and Steve got to feel responsible and hip all at once.

El's 17th birthday had them decking out their little party space a few dozen Thursday's into the tradition later. Eddie didn't usually spring for the good stuff, but he made an exception for the girl who acquired her father's taste for decent whiskey. He thought of it as his birthday gift to her.

Of course, Eddie didn't take into account how blitzed he could get while drinking whiskey cokes and flirting with the beautiful Steve Harrington. Between the haze of drunkenness and a big group's ability to create chaos out of nothing, the night took a weird turn where drama was happening and no one knew how to handle it. Eddie cursed his soft spot for El and Steve's stupid face - he usually stayed more composed in case something dumb like relationship waves started to overpower the neutral tide.

Whether it was fate or karma or just a freak storm, the dark sky above them opened up and broke apart the quickly accumulating snowball of drunk spectacle that was well on its way to causing trouble. The rain was hard and steady; Eddie was soaked within moments. Taunting and arguing turned to giggling and muted screams as everyone grabbed stuff from the table they were sitting at and scattered. Eddie's heavy legs kept him around until all his younger pals were heading down the street towards their apartment. He was happy to see that Steve had stayed by his side throughout it all.

Brown and hazel locked onto each other long enough for Eddie's muddled brain to process the situation they were in and the hilarity of it. It was hard not to laugh when Steve shrugged and started to spin around in the falling rain. Eddie tried not to buy into things happening for a reason, but he figured perfect moments were meant to be capitalized on, no matter the how or why. He chased after Steve to grab him around the waist so they could spin together. His Reeboks were soaked as they broke apart and stomped through puddles in between long strides in the direction of home.

From the look of it, everyone was already tucked away in the safety of the apartment, so Eddie didn't feel bad about pulling Steve into his arms while the rain poured down on them to kiss the hell out of him. They stayed tangled up, dripping wet until the hard brick wall of their unit hit Eddie's back. Steve pulled away first, nuzzling his nose along Eddie's to soothe the ache distance between them always caused. Eddie kept his grip tight on Steve so he couldn't get too far.

They shared a silent look that said a thousand things; in their time together, Eddie learned to speak without words because Steve didn't need them. Where his love was the steady floor underneath everyone else's feet, Eddie gave Steve something to take root on himself. That said more than three little words ever could. The quiet comfort of just being together said it best. Steve leaned in for one more kiss before stepping away completely to head back inside.

Eddie watched him go, tipping his head back against the brick to get the whole view. The entire world wrapped up in tan skin and perfect hair smiled at him before opening the apartment door and disappearing inside.

Romantic Date Idea Prompts

[fearlacking-blog]

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