#sometimes i slip…

[barneykinnie5]

it is taking literally every fiber of my being not to say great grod grove

[hexjulia]

people like to bring up things like "all your loved ones would die before you" as a concern re: immortality. But the real danger for me would be that i'd literally never get anything done again. I'd adopt the elvish lifestyle immediately. Not doing anything in a week that could be done in a century. Not getting anything done in a century that can be done in 10 centuries. Spending the next 100 years reading 1 book very slowly because i have infinite time and don't care.

[mofsblog]

"This is some gay shit" Good. Silly. Fair enough. Doesn't inherently invalidate other interpretations of the relationship. Honestly yeah, it is kind of gay regardless of their canonical relationship status

"There's literally no platonic explanation for th-" WRONG!! KILLING YOU WITH AMATANORMATIVITY KILLING LOBSTERS 🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞🦞

[lexosaurus]

Gimmie the best danny phantom fic (or couple of fics, but keep the list short) you've read in the last year.

I'll start:

Fixed Point by @wastefulreverie: Oneshot, Clockwork tells Danny how much time he has left

The Cracks in the Mask by @kinglazrus: Part two of the Tech Hunter AU, oneshot, Danny deals with the aftermath of Tucker being exposed as the Tech Hunter

Disillusioned by @imekitty: Part three of the Dis Series, multi-chapter, Maddie experimented on Danny for weeks, and now they're trying to cover it up

[captainkirkk]

it is truly criminal that more spider-man actors and voice actors don't put on the heaviest new york accent of all time

Okay but I do really appreciate when actors/ VAs purposefully thicken the accent when Peter is wearing the mask

Peter Parker, Regular Human Boy, is careful to be more soft-spoken and normal-sounding. But Spider-Man? He leans so heavily into the New York accent that Reddit has started to speculate that he's actually foreign and trying to disguise that

[owl-bones]

if i had more time/energy/motivation i would write a fic that's UT Sans/Reader and seemingly very normal and slice of life

but you notice tiny little quirks and oddities around Sans and it's slowly revealed that it's actually Dust and he's taken this Sans' place to get close to you

[t00thpasteface]

this is a reminder that i do NOT give permission to feed any of my fic or other writing into any sort of ai, whether that's a chatbot, a fic generator, or anything else that involves feeding my work into a robot designed to spit out a shambling doppelganger.

on principle, you should also assume the same is true for just about any other author unless explicitly stated otherwise.

i've taken countless hours out of my own free time to share thousands upon thousands of words of fic to read whenever you like at absolutely no cost. to train a robot to clone my voice and give you even more on top of all that is absolutely insulting.

i deeply resent being seen as a disposable, replaceable vending machine for "content". i'm not just a chicken you can behead and rotisserie once she stops laying enough eggs, dammit!

[psychotic-nonsense]

Eddie Munson died.

He was eaten by the bats, injured beyond help. He gave his last words and died in the arms of one of the few people he ever truly felt loved by.

And then there was Steve.

Steve and Nancy and Robin, showing up and bringing him back after just a few minutes. They wrap him up and keep him awake and get him out and save him.

Eddie survived. He's patched up and comatose for a while. His friends- scratch that, his new family fights for his freedom and innocence. He's welcomed back into the world a little raw around the edges - physically, mentally, emotionally, socially - but otherwise okay. Max is safe, Vecna is dead, and the Upside Down is no more.

The government cleared up everything. Reunites nephew and uncle in a fancy new house. Eddie finishes high school with flying colors, and he has an eternity of support to make it through life. A second chance, his own way.

Eddie gets to see his friends - Gareth and Jeff and The Freak Sworn to Secrecy (Harold) - and meets the Byers-Hopper family. Finds kindred in a similarly revived former Chief. Joins the Party like he was there from the beginning.

Eddie falls in love, like the sap he is. And apparently, Steve is a similar sap. It's young love and it's beautiful and the Party is supportive - though the kids are their usual selves, it's all in good taste. They watch the kids graduate, help Robin move on to college, and soon after, Eddie heals the taut rope between the universally bound siblings by moving he and Steve into the same town. It's rough but it's right, and the kids and their parents and Wayne visit often.

Life is perfect, for once in his miserable life, and Eddie has found himself weeping on more than one occasion for how happy he is. He's older than he ever believed he would get, healed beyond the aches and scars, and he's all the healthier for all the distance, the war, and the loss, however brief. Of course, he isn't without his nightmares, but they fade with time.

The one that refuses to is his only worry nowadays. A reoccurring but randomly timed nightmare, where he's shackled to a concrete floor, trapped in darkness. His body is bony and inhuman, elongated teeth and gangly hands with claws, large wings ripping from his back, and though he can't see it, he can feel the black sickness visibly coursing through his veins. He cries out in these nightmares, straining and pulling against the shackles, the darkness, his own body - the vision may be fake but the fear never is - and though he screams words they sound almost like the screeches of the very monsters that killed him, as though he is now one of them.

Eddie wakes every time to Steve holding him, their room bathed in comforting light, Steve's arms covering the very place on his back that would behold his wings. He talks him down softly, responds to everything Eddie says, makes him feel seen and heard and safe and alive and human. The only hiccup in paradise.

And though Eddie knows it's just his brain playing tricks on him, the history never leaving him, something about the nightmares feels too real. Too wrong to be imagination. Too intricate to be coincidence. The nightmares continue, the darkness shifts, more time passes between them but they always come back.

Then, one of them abruptly ends when a door opens, and a shape looking suspiciously like the Dustin of the Upside Down bursts in.

The Dustin from 7 years ago.

An abrupt and sharp ending.

Like Eddie wasn't supposed to see that.

- - - - - - - - - -

Eddie Munson died.

He was eaten by the bats, injured beyond help. He gave his last words and died in the arms of one of the few people he ever truly felt loved by.

And then there was no one.

The worlds merged together. The teens were too late. They had to leave, or they'd lose more and more and more than just one.

Dustin kicked and screamed and begged. Steve pulled him away, pleading and aching and guilty. Nancy and Robin watched, silent and somber and pained.

Eddie was abandoned. Left in the clutches of the Upside Down.

The Party went on to avenge him, trapped in a new apocalyptic Hawkins. Smoke burst from the rip in reality, clouding the world in storms of lightning and monsters. The town became a free for all, the only "saving grace" being the minimal aid from an increasingly unhelpful government. Food is scarce, war is infinite, and the only thing anyone has is each other. But when the people are in shambles and their only savior are children, there isn't much hope left.

The Byers and Hoppers are back, but Max is stuck in limbo, where not even El could find her. Dustin tells Eddie's uncle what's happened, and he demands to join to finish what his nephew started, so he may rest in peace. The kids are determined, the adults barely know what's happening, and the teens are worn down. No one knows what to do, but all they want to do is survive. Of course, they also want their friends back, but those they've lost are now the safest of the entire Party. At least death is peaceful once you're there.

Then, Hopper, El, and Jonathan are out on patrol when they're attacked. A singular being, humanoid but bent to the Upside Downs whims and ways. It's body is bony and inhuman, elongated teeth and gangly hands with claws, large wings ripping from it's back, with that black sickness visibly coursing through it's veins. They think it's a new tool from Vecna's twisted mind, a poor victim twisted to become a soldier for the cause that killed them.

But when they incapacitate it, wrap it up, and bring it back to the Party, the others see the clothes, the rings, the face, and they know who it is.

Eddie. Munson.

Since he's the only one of this kind - and because it's Eddie - they chain him to the basement of their new hideout. They watch him lash out and snarl and be monstrous, and the guilt rises in the witnesses with each growl.

They left him there. They made him like this. They made him die, sacrificed himself for them, and this is what he gets for it.

They take care of him. Dustin, Wayne, Steve, El, they take turns talking to him, trying to find something left in there. Eddie, humanity, Vecna, something other than this creature wearing Eddie's skin. There are some sleepless nights, where the Party thinks they can hear Eddie screaming from the basement, begging for freedom and help and comfort. But the mind plays tricks, and they know better than to fall for it.

Until one night, when Dustin's on patrol for the creature. He bursts into everyone's rooms, demanding they wake up.

Because Dustin had heard the human words that night. Was so tired he confused it for reality, and burst into the basement.

And he saw something in the creature's reaction. Fear, terror, recognition, hope.

Humanity.

Eddie.

Before the creature slumped over, then snapped up and was back to snarling and growling. An immediate reaction, but Dustin saw it still.

But it wasn't played like a trick. Dustin barely saw anything before the creature was back to its ways.

Less like Vecna wanted him to see it.

More like Dustin shouldn't have.

[cannot-be-cyn]

me, engaging in other media be like:

[melverie]

Can I just say that I absolutely LOVE how ever since they all found out that MC is human and was brought here against their will, it was Lucifer who kept insisting that they shouldn't be the ones to trap MC in the Devildom. That whether they want to stay or not is a decision MC has to make themself and that the brothers should support them no matter what they end up choosing

And now that the moment is finally here, now that MC has confirmed that they indeed plan on heading home, and now that all of his brothers agreed on helping them get back, having forged a pact and lending their powers to do so���

Now that he knows that he's the final piece needed to send them back; that the lingering idea of the yet to be forged pact between them is what's stopping MC from potentially leaving their side for good, leaving his side for good—

Now that they have finally gotten to this point, he realizes something. And he's unable to live with it

And so, he goes back on his word.

He's taking that choice from them.

"I don't want to."

Lucifer's pride is what keeps his voice leveled and neutral, as if it were just another day. As if he everything was completely fine. As if he didn't feel this pain in his heart, almost as if someone had rammed a dagger through his chest over and over and over again

To most people, he'd appear to be in perfect control of his emotions—if only his gaze wouldn't completely obliterated that frail façade of his. The way his beautiful dark eyes shimmering with a hint of blood red silently plead, beg MC to stay...

Internally, he is breaking apart because he knows what he is doing isn't right. He knows that he shouldn't trap them like a bird in a cage, and yet he can't help himself. Not in this situation. Not when it comes to MC

'No'

He—Lucifer, Avatar of Pride himself—is the last thing trapping the very person that finally made him realize what his sister had meant forever ago

'I won't let you go'

How one day, someone would stumble their way into his life, and how he'd love them so wholeheartedly and so deeply that everything else would become trivial as long as he'd get to hold them in his arms

'I can't let you go'

Someone that he'd happily throw away everything for, not even considering any alternatives if only for the shred of a chance at just one last tomorrow with them

'Please stay with us. Please stay with me'

Everything.

'I cannot lose you, MC'

Even if they'll never forgive him for it.

"I'm not going to forge a pact with MC."

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[purplepixel]

ohhhh @psychologicalwarclaire here's your white eyes with the rise turtles :]

Finally finally FINALLY got around to making Spider's Web with Strings Attached fanart. ITS THEM. Shoved my perfectionism in a box to finish this. The sketch has been sitting on my ipad for months now and I didn't quite know what I wanted to do with it until today. Referenced @drsmer's designs but also made my own tweaks.

To anyone who hasn't already, GO READ THIS FIC. It's arguably the best written rise fic I've ever read. Never have I seen a "turtles are forced to fight in the battle nexus" fic do what this one has done. Literary treat. Bonus points that all the characters read like canon.

[kumeramen]

I’ve no idea if u take requests but your art is really amazing and I love very much. If u take requests please consider drawing sakura w orihime from bleach, they’re related in many ways 🩷 love ur art have a good day

They both be sharing similar interests in sweet bread definitely~! 😋💖🍞

[yunmeng-jiang]

every day i wish there had been a better solution for the qin su marriage problem.

in my fix-it fics i either have some other sect leader claim that he was actually madly in love with her this whole time and sweep her away for jgy's sake, have her mom confess earlier, make jgy decide to tell her for her own good and have them work together, or not give them a chance to meet and fall in love in the first place (i guess i could also make qin su have a miscarriage, but that's really sad and awful and not my preferred option at all), but all of those require tweaks to the circumstances, sometimes early on so they don't meet or jgy feels safe enough to talk with her or another confidant, or sometimes later like madam qin finding out they're pregnant before the marriage prep is too far along and telling one or both of them right away so they can make other arrangements.

with the situation being what it was, jgy didn't find out soon enough to do anything that wouldn't involve either marrying her anyway (and he didn't think telling her about it would do anything except make her upset and depressed) or leaving her essentially a ruined woman with no prospects and an illegitimate child who would inevitably grow up fatherless, which is pretty much exactly what his dad did to meng shi. this would be a crueler option than pretty much anything else, and given that he clearly still cares about her, he couldn't do that in good conscience. jgy tries his best to protect the people he loves, unless there is literally no other way for him to survive.

it's one more example of jgy being faced with a situation where the only choices are bad ones, and making the decision that he thinks will hurt the fewest number of people. metatextually, it's one more example of women in fiction being shoved aside and not given agency in their own lives, and getting killed off instead of surviving and growing as people like the male characters are allowed to do. it's just a tragic situation all around and i wish there had been something they could have done.

[psymachine]

is there a fic where present day dennis fabricates a reason for him and mac to dust off their mustard blazers again and roleplay as husbands so that he can test drive dating mac with a full-proof escape plan for when mac inevitably (he's sure) fails to meet his expectations?

[barblaz-arts]

Remember the Chaggie fic I talked about? I finally posted it.