#stranger things spoliers

[pebblemae]

So I know a lot of the popular audios and things. (Who doesn’t) and of course one of the many that got stuck in my head was “Chrissy, wake up!” Now I never watched the show, but that song was a bop.

Fast forward to today and my parents are rewatching the series. Started watching with around the time they find the Gate in the lake. And guys…

I don’t think Chrissy woke up.

[fatrocka64]

I just wanted to say happy new year... It's sad to see 2022 go.

I've had some challenges that were impossible to get through.

Kinda wish I would've done some things differently this year like

Make sure that my ex employee happy... She hates Furries and it's my fault for letting her leave after a whole year.. I still love Furries but she cannot stop me from Loving it. I will continue with the obsession with the furry fandom after what happened. If she wants to be Discriminatory against the Furry fandom I won't be talking to her anymore.

But hey. I made it.

Let's see what 2023 has to offer...

PS. Hopefully I can go to furnal Equinox next year.... If my dad can get those tickets

[tartarusknight]

The King of the Freaks | Pt 4

(Yes I am too lazy to keep writing that long title so it’s been changed from now on...)

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Eddie was kinda pissed as he stabbed at the food on his tray. "You sure they said we can't?" Gareth question, and he sounded just as Eddie felt.

"They said that we couldn't do this week," Eddie said again, and he glanced up as Steve moved to sit down next to Jeff. He was pulling something out of his backpack and it was the first time since that first time that Steve actually sat with them.

"What can't you guys do?" Steve questioned as he pulled out a container of cookies and slid them over to Jeff.

Jeff lit up even as the others looked confused. "We can't do Hellfire this week. Apparently, the drama club needs the drama room this week." Jeff explains, and Steve pauses.

His face makes a hundred micro expressions before he shrugs, "You could do it at my house. I don't really care." Steve states and moves to stand back up hit Jeff pulls him back down. "Uh, what?"

He looks confused, and it's unfair because it seems like the moment they should be confused. "Three questions. First I thought you had swimming? Second, why would you let us do it at your house? Most parents think we are a cult, and I doubt your parents would think differently. And lastly, what's up with the cookies?"

Steve looks a little embarrassed as he's forced to stay there. But he meets Eddie's gaze. "First, I do have swimming, but I don't care. Come over that night or another if you really care. Second, my parents are in either Beijing or Belgium right now, so they don't get an opinion. And the cookies are for Jeff because he helped me last weekend. He can share, or he doesn't have to, I don't care."

Eddie blinks, "you'd let us be at your house without you there?"

"Sure, why not. I doubt you'll trash the entire place. And even if you do, there's not much you could do I haven't seen before. I've had enough parties to get good at cleaning up." Steve states, and Eddie looks at the others, trying to see if they're just as confused.

"That's amazing, dude! How about we get pizza, since you'll host?" Jeff offers, and Steve gives them a tight smile. Eddie's not sure if it's because of the topic of food or the idea that they're going to take him up on the offer. 

Steve nods and it’s a little sharp, “Right. Yeah just let me know date and time.” He pauses and goes back to his bag. He pauses before he can pull whatever he’s grabbed before steeling himself. “Here, just in case I’m busy.” He drops a key onto the table and practically bolts from the table. 

Eddie waits for him to come back and take the key with a sike. But he doesn’t, instead Eddie sees him dodge Billy’s foot and escape out of the lunch room. “Here I thought we were adopting him.” Gareth mused and picked up the key. Jeff smacked him and took the key. “Hey!” Gareth complains. 

“Yeah, I’ve actually been to his house so...” Jeff points out.

That gets Eddie back up and moving, “yeah. About that, what the hell?”

Jeff laughs, “I helped him cook. He’s been struggling with meet lately and you know my sister.” Eddie nods because it does make sense but at the same time it makes zero sense. “I bumped into him at the store...” Jeff trails off, “I think we need to try harder.”

“Harder?” Eddie squeaked and his friends gave him a look that he really wished he didn’t know. 

Jeff doesn’t let that stop him though. “Well, I thought it was bad enough going from top dog to the new top dog’s chew toy but the guy is struggling. He only had condiments in his fridge even though he told me he was a good cook, which he is. Apparently he has no clue where his parents are at the moment. He had a guess but that was it. And! He has no clue when they’re coming back. I asked and he laughed it off saying maybe for Christmas. Christmas.”

“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!” Grant states and Jeff nods. 

Gareth sighs, “I’ve been bothering him during my free period. Normally just working on shit next to him... but the dude is not okay. He squints when he reads like he can’t see it well. I’m pretty sure he’s been getting migraines since he fought with Billy. And I’m 80% sure he’s partially deaf in his left ear. Cause if I whisper on that side he never responds. But he will when I sit on his right.”

“He never eats lunch,” Eddie sighs. “He always tears his food apart to make it look like he’s eating. If his fridge is empty than he might not be eating that often.”

“Well shit,” Grant sighs. “But how do we help him without it being weird.”

Eddie presses his hands together under his chin to think. “Okay, so we stop with the subtle friendship and go for it. If we’re his best friends then maybe he’ll let us help him.”

“So operation make Steve Harrington friendship bracelets is ago.” Gareth grins and Jeff throws a grape at him. 

They already had access to the boy’s house. How hard could it be?

@zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137  @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo  @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills

[cursedchildofchaos]

I see this and think of Chrissy and Eddie, and you know Eddie would totally make a little heart note cuz he's just a big softie 😭💖 they were so cute for that one episode they were in together lol

The prompt was ‘detention.’

[midnightartemis]

I was really expecting Bob to be like a government plant/spy and not just ‘some guy’

[kidconsky]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[wil-o-wispy]

The Wife, The Lover and the Bastard Son - Part 1

Chris Redfield x Reader

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Synopsis: After a long day of being interrogated about Wesker's work in Africa, you try to drown your sorrows in liquor. Too bad it won't work out as planned with Chris Redfield watching your every move.

Includes: Minor reader injury, excessive drinking, vaguely referenced unwanted advances from a stranger, spoliers for RE5, my first time posting my writing publicly. Enjoy!

Hurt/Comfort with plot. Reader is referred to as 'Doc.'

wc: 3.8k+

“I had it handled.” Your tone was matter of fact and icy. You were not the best fighter by any stretch of the imagination, but you were positive you could have taken down that wobbling drunk with a good kick.

Chris kept his eyes on the road. From the streetlights outside the car that came and went as Chris drove his hummer towards your home, you could see his stony expression illuminate and darken.

“You were just about on the receiving end of a right hook.” His hands tightly grip the steering wheel. Not in anger, but in frustration at the situation you’d found yourself in.

“And I was preparing to counter just like Jill taught me. Your point?”

“My point? You almost got in a bar fight! Why were you even in there at this time of night?”

Your mouth falls open. “Oh so it’s my fault some small-dicked idiot doesn’t know what ‘no’ means?”

“That’s not what I said-“

“And you didn’t have to! I’m a grown ass woman. I can handle my own problems. I don’t need you playing hero for me. And if I want to drink myself into a coma on a weekday, I have every right to do that without getting chewed out by you.”

You look at Chris with a withering glare and he shuts his mouth and keeps driving. A tense silence overtakes the car. In truth, your night getting cut short by a drunk asshole then Chris intervening on the almost fight was just the final incident after a long day that made you see red. You shift uncomfortably in your carefully curated, business casual outfit. A minute later, you let out a tired sigh.

“I’m sorry. If you must know, I had a tough day and I didn’t want to drink alone.”

The captain tilts his head, still keeping his eyes on the road. “The D.S.O. interview?”

You could feel your eyes getting hot. When you had married Albert Wesker all those years ago, you couldn’t imagine that your life would be like this; living under the protection of the B.S.A.A. and questioned on yet another aspect of Albert Wesker’s work every few months. It’s days like this when it feels like Albert isn’t actually gone. Even in death, his stain on the world of bioterrorism still found ways to torment your existence. You being a former Umbrella scientist didn’t help your case either, regardless of the fact that you never participated in Albert’s schemes.

“More like interrogation… but yeah.”

Chris’ expression softens. “What was it about this time?”

You take a deep calming breath, debating on keeping the details to yourself as usual. Chris wasn’t your friend. He was your designated agent that gave you assignments whenever another virus made itself known (which was more often than you would think). You made a point to keep things professional between you two. Anything more felt taboo given the circumstances of your relationship. The will to keep it that way had worn thin with the day’s events, so you relented but kept the answer short.

“Africa. Again.”

More silence. You notice Chris sigh and look annoyed, but don’t draw attention to it. Africa was a sensitive subject for both of you. It marked the explosive conclusion to your marriage with Albert, and the beginning of your strained alliance with his murderer. You didn’t hold it against Chris in the slightest. You really didn't. Deep down you know Albert would have ended humanity with a smirk plastered on his face. You’d already mourned the loss of the man you married long before his heart stopped beating. Since then, Chris had surprisingly and unwaveringly advocated for you. He even worked out a deal on you becoming a consultant on viruses for the B.S.A.A. in exchange for protection. He’d helped you so much over the years. More than you could ever hope to repay. That debt continues to grow with every kind gesture. You hated it.

Tonight for example: after Chris grabbed that drunk’s arm on the backswing and pinned him to the bar counter, both of you got kicked out. You didn’t even get your drink. You’d already had a rough day, so you yelled at Chris about him being a stalker and an asshole as you stomped back to your car. A comical insult considering knowing your whereabouts was a part of his job. All you wanted to do was go back home, resigned to drink alone, but lo and behold your car wouldn’t start and Chris noticed. He had every right to leave you to fend for yourself, but instead he insisted on driving you home.

“You’d think after three years they’d run out of questions to ask. The government keeps hiring investigators more stupid than the last. It’s incredible really.” You quip with some annoyance after a moment, trying to ease the tension. Chris still stares at the road in silence, so you keep going.

“They demanded a lot of answers about why we helped each other that day. That was a fun trip down memory lane. Don’t be surprised if someone calls you to verify that I told them the truth.”

Chris takes a deep breath, shifts in his seat and his posture relaxes slightly. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I am talking to you.”

“I mean beyond the one-word answers. I know there’s a lot on your mind. You can talk to me.”

You roll your eyes and go back to looking at the streetlights go by out the window.

“Right. Because you’re so unbiased about this subject.”

“I’m serious. I’ll just listen if you need to vent.”

“You’re already driving me home. I don’t need any more favors from you tonight.”

“It’s not a favor. I just want to help.”

You think about it for a moment. This wasn’t the first time Chris tried to get you to open up to him. But instead of brushing it off like before, you consider it. And the more you thought about it, the more it made sense that Chris would be the perfect person to weigh in on your interview with the D.S.O. He worked under Wesker at the R.P.D., knew nearly every single thing there was to know about him from tracking Wesker down over the years, and he’d witnessed Wesker’s possessive treatment of you the day he died. He didn’t look at you with disdain like most of the B.S.A.A. He saw you for who you were. The only person who could even be remotely as qualified was Jill, but she was still getting back on her feet after what happened in Africa. Plus, you doubted she would willingly listen to a rant about anything remotely associated to the man who brainwashed her.

Plus it would be nice to have someone listen to your complaints without looking at you like you were the scum of the earth.

Eventually, Chris pulls up to the small house that the B.S.A.A. had put you in for witness protection. It was an older one story house with a few problems here and there, but it was inconspicuous and you had managed to make it feel more like ‘yours’ with the handful decorations and plants you had accumulated over the last few months.

Chris pulls into the driveway and puts his hummer into park. Both of you just sit in silence for a few seconds, with Chris staring at the steering wheel and you at the sad excuse of a flower bed leading up to your front door.

“Doc-”

“Sure.”

Chris looks at you, confused. “What?”

You turn your gaze from the window to Chris. “I’d… appreciate having someone to vent to.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean your head back in the car before you close the door with a cheeky smile. “Care to join me so I don’t have to drink alone?”

____________________________________

If nothing else, Chris Redfield proved to be a great drinking buddy. He took what was offered to him, drank without complaint, and took care to keep both of your glasses full throughout your animated storytelling of the day’s events. Although he did limit himself because he had to be sober enough to drive home, which you understood.

You on the other hand, had enough drinks in you to cause the vibe of the room to feel fuzzy, your social filter to disappear, your shoes and socks to be discrded in the corner, and to have any soft surface to feel like the most comfortable thing in the universe. You had completely relaxed laying out on the end of your sofa by the side table where Chris opted to sit in the armchair caddy cornered to the couch next to you, listening intently to your retelling of the days events.

“…then this pencil pushing government lackey asks me if I personally had anything to do with the development of that plaga strain that popped up in Africa.”

You motion your empty glass to Chris, and he reaches over from his spot in the armchair to grab the whiskey bottle on the coffee table to pour more into your glass while nursing his own drink.

“Thank you. And when I told him no, he started going on this tirade. And if he’d read any further than the last name at the top of the damn page, then he’d know my specialty isn’t parasites. It’s viruses! Yet this half-assed excuse of-”

You hiccup and take a moment to compose yourself after the hiccup before continuing while Chris makes no attempt to hide his smirk at your drunkenness.

“-half-assed excuse of a government agent goes on this rant of how I had to have been involved. There was no conceivable way that I wasn’t at least consulted on the development of the new plaga. So I tried to break down the differences between a virus and a parasite to him, and by the end of that little lesson I was convinced he didn’t know his ass from his elbow!”

You down the whiskey is one clean chug. Chris let’s out a light-hearted laugh at that, much to your annoyance.

“It’s not funny,” you admonish while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It isn’t, but the way you’re telling it is.”

“Well, I’m glad my suffering is entertaining to you.”

“Go on, what happened next?”

Your face grows a bit more serious.

“The bit after that isn’t as funny.”

Another charismatic smile. “Go ahead. I want to hear it.”

You look at Chris, and the look on his face is so genuine, so kind, that you find yourself speaking before you can stop yourself.

“He started questioning me on what I was doing if I wasn’t helping create these things. He was asking why I stood by and did nothing. Why didn’t I try to contact anyone, sabotage the work, try to leave… that kind of thing. And how many deaths could have been avoided if I just sucked it up and called someone.”

In truth, those questions that the agent asked you prompted a well of guilt that you’d safely tucked away to return with a vengeance. In reality, there was very little you could have done to influence the outcome of anything Wesker was involved in, and there was nothing that could have been done to stop Uroboros before Chris and Sheva were sent to Africa.

But there was always that little pit of guilt haunting the back of your mind: If you were cleverer, you could have gotten a radio sooner. If you cared more, the subjects for those experiments wouldn’t have died. If you weren’t so afraid you could have stolen a phone or a laptop and ended Wesker’s reign of bioweapon terror years sooner.

That last one weighed heavy on your mind long before the D.S.O. interview.

You feel tears start to prick your eyes and you remember why you wanted to drink in the first place. You can’t be consumed by guilt if you’re too intoxicated to remember it.

“Top me off will you?” The request comes out in a mumble, laced with a false jovialness that not even you are convinced of. You don’t even hold up the glass in Chris’ general direction. You only stare mindlessly into it from your perch on the couch.

“Hey…look at me.”

You look up from your glass and become slightly startled from Chris’ close proximity. You hadn’t even realized Chris had gotten up from the armchair on your right to kneel in front of you at the end of the couch. You can feel the heat of him he’s so close. His concerned and comforting look and tone brings you dangerously close to shedding tears. Suddenly, Chris’ presence in your house feels suffocating and his gaze makes you feel exposed. You look to the side and stare at the rug.

“I’m sorry this was a bad idea. I think you should go.”

You move to get up from the couch and Chris mercifully backs up and gives you room to walk. Calling your movement a walk at this point was generous. You shuffled like the undead trying to head to your front door; unbalanced yet somehow still walking upright.

“Doc-”

You call over your shoulder back to him. “I’ll escort you out. Do me a solid and forget this happened.” You start to turn back towards the door and you feel your foot catch, stomach drop and body lurch forward.

In the moment, you forget about the little wooden divider between the hallway to your front door and the living room. Thankfully, by throwing your other foot forward and flailing your arms you catch your weight and you don’t fall to the ground. But the shock of suddenly almost losing your balance causes the grip on your glass to loosen. Before you could stop it, the glass in your hand slips between your fingers and shatters in the little hallway to your front door between your kitchen and living room. In your drunken and vulnerable state, the symphony of glass sounds like a death toll.

“Oh.. shit I’m sorry about that. Just… just get out. Watch the glass.”

You didn’t know why you were apologizing to Chris for breaking your own things. You felt like you were being viewed under a microscope and every little thing was being analyzed by Chris, who still wore his worried demeanor under a decisive mask of calmness.

“Hey it’s alright. You go sit back down…” His voice is so infuriatingly calm.

Chris’ body starts to try and move past you towards your kitchen, presumably to find something to clean up your blunder for you. The very idea of having this man do any more favors for you made your chest tighten and you to move to clean up the mess before he does too quickly.

“No this needs to ge- mph!”

When you stepped towards your kitchen to get a broom, you felt an agonizingly sharp pain in your foot. You instinctively lift the injured foot and lean on the archway, but drunkenness and balance rarely ever agree with each other. Your hand doesn’t gain enough purchase on the wall, so your arm slides past its target and you gracelessly and painfully crumple to the ground. It was a kind of fall that knocked the wind out of you for a moment.

“Shit.” You breathe out heavily, trying and failing to hold back your tears and attempting to get up. Chris is quick to act before you make much progress. He kneels down in front of you, gently grasping your shoulders, taking care to step around the glass in the process.

“Where does it hurt? That sounded painful.”

“I’m fine.” You grit through your teeth.

Once you’re sitting upright on the ground, Chris takes one look at your foot, and you see a slight shift in his expression where his eyes get just a tad wider. You can physically see him shift from concerned friend to authoritative captain. He speaks with soft authority.

“Stay put. Don’t get up.”

Before you can say anything, he disappears into your kitchen. You lift your leg and tilt your head to get a better view of your foot and you see red. Your foot is smeared with blood and bits of glass. You instinctively go to pull a larger glass piece out of your foot, but even with all of the whiskey you drank, it hurts like hell and you hiss in pain. You hear hurried footfall from the kitchen.

“Hey! Don’t do that.”

Chris gently removes the hand that’s trying to pick out the glass from your foot, places a wet rag in your hand, then moves it back to your foot, lightly clasping his hand over yours and your foot for a moment and you wince. He watches you with kind eyes.

“Keep that on there, ok?”

“I don’t want your-”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish before you see him return to the kitchen. A moment later he reappears with a broom and a first aid kit. Chris tosses the first aid kit beside you and quickly sweeps the glass into a small pile by the arch so it’s out of the way of foot traffic and haphazardly leans the broom on the wall. Smudges of blood remain on the floor, but Chris ignores it in favor of sitting down next to you and digging supplies out of the med kit; disinfectant, tweezers, gauze.

“Stop! Okay? You really don’t have to do that…” You hear your words slurring together.

Chris ignores your protest and gently, but firmly, wraps his fingers around your ankle. He pulls it towards himself and you let go of the wet cloth as he perches your ankle on his knee.

“I do, actually. You’ve had a lot to drink and this glass isn’t going to pick out itself.”

“Will you just stop? I can bandage myself up.”

A lie. You’re too drunk and you know it. He knows it. You weakly try to pull back your foot, but there is resistance from Chris’ grip. You looks at you with a soft, but exasperated look.

“You’re drunk and you’re bleeding! Just let me take care of you.”

“And why the fuck do you even want to?” You’re angry. Angry at yourself for letting yourself get friendly with Chris. Pissed at Chris for being so nice after your repeated attempts to keep him at arms length. Heated from him ignoring your requests to stop helping you because you sure as hell don’t deserve it.

Chris looks at you and answers straight away, gently pulling your foot back towards him by your ankle.

“Because I’m not going to leave you when you need help!”

You just looked at Chris with your puffy eyes, flushed face, and tear-streaked cheeks. You two sit there for a long moment looking at each other. You’re frozen in your spot from his words.

“Why the hell are you of all people still trying to help me? You should hate me.” Your tone is incredulous and quiet.

You knew for a fact that your presence at the B.S.A.A. as a consultant instead of criminal at Chris’ own insistence caused far more trouble than it was worth over the years. The attempted kidnappings, the death threats, the extortion attempts and countless other events that occurred as a result of your proximity to Wesker and the B.S.A.A. caused, at best, a headache for the captain. Wasted time, wasted resources, wasted manpower, wasted anything that could be used to fight bioweapons instead of bad actors that wanted you dead at worst. Chris had absolutely no incentive to keep helping you after Africa, yet here he was. He had every right to look at you with disgust for sleeping with the enemy, yet he’s always tried to befriend you.

The silence stretches for an uncomfortable amount of time while Chris picks the glass out of your foot. It stretches through Chris disinfecting the wounds. It ends when he starts to bandage your foot with a roll of gauze.

“Your only crime here is falling in love with the wrong man.”

Chris wraps the final bit of gauze around your foot, and looks back up at you with a reserved playfulness.

“Last I checked, you get left off with a warning on that one.”

“People died because I didn’t do enough-”

“People died because Wesker was a psychopath. That’s not your fault.”

You look at Chris in silent shock.

No one in the years after Wesker died had told you that you weren’t at fault for what he did. You were always met with suspicious glances, strict professionalism, or outright disdain when you were forced to talk about him or any projects he was related to. You thought you deserved it. Even Jill still held you at arm’s length when it came to being vulnerable about what happened with Wesker. This was the first time that anyone had shown you genuine compassion and absolved you completely of guilt. And it’s devastating.

You can’t do anything except burst into tears.

Your vision goes blurry and before you can even think about stopping it, your body is wracked with sobs and you cry. Still unbalanced from your drinking, you lean on the wall facing Chris.

There’s a moment where Chris isn’t sure of what to do. But he knows that he can’t leave you like this. Chris tentatively reaches out his hand towards your shoulder, carefully watching you to gauge whether or not you wanted physical comfort.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay…” Chris’ voice falls over you like a weighted blanket. The heavy soothing tonality of his voice cuts through guilt that had been plaguing your mind and you can’t help but lean into his touch when his hand rubs your shoulder.

You don’t fight him when he pulls you into his lap. His embrace is warm, comforting and everything that you didn’t know you needed up until the moment you had it. One of your hands grab a fistful of his shirt for support, and you bury your face in Chris’ neck as you continue to sob.

“It’s alright, let it out…”

The captain’s tone never wavers outside of that low, soothing timbre. Chris uses the hand that’s not wrapped around your torso to rub comforting circles between your shoulders. His touch is consistent and methodical. It takes a long time, but eventually your breathing starts to even, sobs morph into sniffles, and rigid muscles relax into Chris’ embrace.

“Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

You hesitate for a moment, but nod your head. You let go of Chris’ shirt and maneuver your arms over his shoulders and squeeze. Chris gets the message immediately. Chris wraps his arms around you in a tight and comforting hug. The heat of him engulfs you fully and for the first time in a long time, you feel like everything is okay.

There’s no Wesker, no D.S.O., no bioterrorism organizations intruding on your life.

There’s only you and Chris.

And for once, that’s enough.

_____________________________

Hopefully this will be a full series but we'll see if that happens with my work schedule. Thanks for reading!

AO3 link for this part.

[bloodycreaturee]

stranger things s5 spolier: joyce byers kills vecna

[26aspen-edits]

(stranger thing spoliers???)

i dont think ill be physically ready when aziracrow say "i love you" to each other, like dude i cried when hopper and joyce kissed in st and i knew in advance and yet i was crying but when the pining angel and demon drop the L word, i think ill just pass away

[jigukksfics]

okay so I've been playing duskwood since forever

and moonvale has disappointed me way too much with the AI pictures and the diamonds, i would've paid for a premium package. Also the theories are confusing me even more but they make sense so much. but I have one too (also I haven't finished the first episode yet so I don't really know what happens at the end)

‼️SPOLIERS FOR MOONVALE BELOW‼️

1

2

3

Okay so could it be that Adam is Darkness??!! like come on we haven't seen him and him having our number makes sense that way and black envelope too the Tarot Card "The Stranger" I mean as much as we know that Darkness knew a lot of legends so it could be possible that he knew a bit of Tarot. And it could also be that he got interested in these things because of Dunkelsteig and maybe kept something there or since the people of Redlog think it's a evil place he went to see what it actually was and maybe found nothing Adam could be operating from there?? Since Vega is pointing in that direction he probably got into some trouble and texted Eric our number knowing that Hannah was found and knew we would help him in whatever trouble he is??

Could it be?! Or I'm just going mad..

Also is anyone else having trouble with the mini games it's taking me so long to complete them istg it's so irritating 😭😭

[thewingedbaron]

Quiet Moments: the Devil and the Shadow

SPOILERS FOR ACT ONE

As the companions bed down for the night, preparing to scout the goblin camp in the morning, Tav (pictured above) finds a quiet moment to reflect on all that has happened over the past three days.

Spoliers beyond this point for Wyll and Shadowheart's backstories.

Tav sat by the fire, meticulously cleaning each piece of her new crossbow. It was a heavy, comfortable weight across her knees, unlike the flimsy bow she had rescued from the illithid nautiloid. The arms of the bow were beautiful, gilded gold with matching designs that ran the length of the body, and swirled into the trigger lever. As Tav polished it, she could feel the crossbow’s enchantments humm under her fingertips. At the end of the stock, someone had carefully carved the name of the beautiful weapon. Harold. A strange name for a crossbow, but who was she to argue with someone who could craft such a wonderfully deadly instrument. She would have saved those caravan guards a dozen times over just to shoot the thing. Now, it was hers. 

But even she had to admit, polishing the beautiful weapon was merely a distraction. 

Camp had been quiet all night. Even Karlach’s seemingly boundless energy had been subdued after Wyll’s “visitor” had appeared earlier in the night. The Blade of Frontiers had disappeared some time ago now, stating that he needed some time to reflect on his choices, and his new visage. Tav hoped he was alright. Their companions had done their best to cheer him before he left, but it was impossible for mere words to soften the blow Wyll had suffered tonight. The man had been dragged through each of the Hells, one after another, and come back with horns. Tav knew personally what it was like to live as “devil-spawn”. She knew the suspicious looks Wyll would receive from all sides, the distrust in every stranger’s face. There was a reason she preferred the dangers of the wilds over crowded cities. 

The soft scuffle of feet drew Tav from her thoughts. She was surprised to find Karlach towering over her, looking for all the world like she was a schoolgirl about to be punished for throwing her chalk at someone’s head. 

“Um, hi soldier. H-has Wyll come back yet?” Karlach asked, her eyes meeting Tav’s. She saw discomfort there, but also a strange kind of determination. 

“I haven’t seen him.” Tav replied with what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “Wyll has a lot to process, I doubt we’ll see him until the morning.” That’s what I would do. Tav thought. 

“Do you know which way he went? Since you’re a ranger and stuff, I figured you can track things so you might…” 

“He was headed over the rise, last I saw.” Tav nodded toward a small corps of trees atop a small hill overlooking their camp. “I don’t think he would have gone too far from camp.” 

“Thanks soldier,” Karlach nodded several times, as if confirming the thought in her head. Tav watched her go, stepping quickly toward the trees after Wyll. For a moment, Tav almost called her back, insisting upon letting Wyll have his space. But she discarded the notion. Wyll could use a friend right now. She thought. This could be good for both of them to work through, together. 

“So… Wyll made a deal with the devil.” 

Tav barely managed to suppress her flinch of surprise as Shadowheart seemed to materialize out of the darkness. Even for one trained in stealth, and with highly attuned senses, honed from years of hunting some of nature’s deadliest creatures, the half-elf was impossible to keep track of especially without her heavy chainmail. Although that was hardly surprising for a cleric of Shar, Tav reflected. 

“So he did.” Tav replied, trying her best to keep her voice even despite her racing heart. “Though he really doesn’t seem the type.” 

“Oh? Know many warlocks, do you?” Shadowheart teased, making Tav’s heart flutter for an entirely unrelated reason. “What sets our dear friend Wyll apart from the rest?” 

“I’ve known a couple.” Hunted a couple too. Tav did not voice the thought. “Most make their pacts looking to gain power for themselves. Authority over others and such. Wyll’s different. He seems like he uses his pact for the good of all. He had a good heart.” 

“Like you. A good heart I mean.” Shadowheart flushed slightly. “Why do you insist on helping both the druids and the tieflings? It seems to me like Zevlor already gave us the perfect solution. Slip a knife between the snake’s ribs and we can be on our way.” 

“Killing Kahga outright wouldn’t be much of a solution.” Tav’s brow furrowed. “If we stick a knife in her back to help the refugees, it would only brew more resentment among the sympathetic druids. Many who might have supported the tieflings in their plight will turn on them, blaming them for the death of one of their own.” Even if I want to kill her for threatening that child. Tav dismissed the thought. “It’s better that we find Halsin, let him get his grove in order, and we can see about breaking up the goblin camp along the way. If the road is clear, there’s no need for Zevlor’s people to stay. Then, there’s no need for bloodshed.”

“Careful, Tav. One might begin to think you’re scared of a little bloodshed.” Shadowheart laughed. Tav realized she quite liked the sound. 

“Not scared of it, no.” She replied, patting the crossbow in her lap. “I simply prefer it on my own terms. What about you, Shadowheart? If you keeping helping people, some might not think you’re not such a scary priestess of Shar.” 

Tav knew the words were wrong the moment they left her mouth. Immediately, Shadowheart’s face fell, the laughter in her eyes draining in a moment. 

“No, perhaps not.” She muttered. “Goodnight, Tav.” 

Tav nodded, silently kicking herself as Shadowheart stalked back to her tent. With a frustrated sigh, Tav’s gaze returned to the flames, and for a moment she considered throwing herself into them. Why did it have to be so hard to get a read on her half-elven companion? What was she doing wrong? 

Yet neither the crackling flames, nor the hooting of a hunting owl seemed to hold any answers for her as Tav settled down to sleep.

[thefourthvulpix]

Been on something of an Omori mood lately, scrolling through different people's AUs. And I've finally come up with one that I feel comfortable sharing with.

Orphaned Sunny AU

About a week before the day of the recital, Sunny comes in contact with a disease that's serious enough that he has to be hospitalized. His parents initially had wanted to push the recital to a later time so Sunny could still participate, but because Mari had been really frustrated by Sunny's lack of progress, she wanted to just go ahead and have the recital without him out of spite. Sounds harsh, but the stress of her perfectionism was driving her insane.

She told Hero about this, and he was very against the idea. So much so that he and Mari ended up having their first and last shouting match, ending with both of them saying unnecessarily harsh things to one another.

On the day of the recital, Mari performs a beautiful solo, and everyone congratulates her for her success. She left the recital with a bad taste in her mouth, feeling empty without having Sunny or Hero by her side. She knew that she owed both of those boys an apology, but she wasn't ready to speak to Hero yet. She needed to focus on Sunny first.

But unfortunately, that apology would never come to light. As the Suzuki family were on their way to the hospital... they got caught up in a horrific accident, one that was big enough to reach the local news on Faraway TV. All three perished in the chaos before the ambulance could reach them.

All Sunny had left of his family was his house, his violin, and Mewo. I have no idea what happened to Mewo in the original timeline, but I refuse to believe that the one room in Black Space indicates that Sunny had harmed her in any way.

How does the death of the Suzuki's affect the friend group?

Obviously Hero has a lot of regrets over how his last conversation with Mari ended with so many harsh words and unresolved issues. And unfortunately, he doesn't learn from his mistake. He ends up lashing out at Sunny instead of Kel in this AU, blaming him for Mari's death and wishing it was him who had perished. And Kel? He's horrified at Hero's words, and he develops a protective rage on Sunny's behalf that escalates into a shouting match between the brothers.

Nice going, Hero. You just drove Kel down the path of delinquency. (Spoliers: Kel and Hero remain on not speaking for a loooong time) I think Kel ends up forming his own delinquent trio with Aubrey and Basil, and they're very protective of Sunny.

Sunny doesn't go full Hikkikomori route this time, he still hangs out with his friends on occasion while continuing to play the violin, but... he does have a lot of the same coping mechanisms. I think Headspace!Hero and Headspace!Basil basically switch roles, with Hero being suddenly yeeted away from the friend group while he was in the middle of making a bomb-ass lunch for everyone, and Basil being the healer of the group. (Poor Hero is going to die soooo many painful deaths in Black Space, and I think Omori is starting ti enjoy it)

Mari does not exist in the happy parts of Headspace. Thinking about her is just too painful for Sunny. But he can't run from his past forever, not when he keeps seeing these three distinctly familiar Strangers in the shadows.

[qulizalfos]

stranger things s4 spoliers

does the fact that when El was going through her fav memories w/ max as she revives her, the byler hug in s3 was in the shot between elmax saying "against the rules?" "we make our own rules!" count as byler proof or have i finally fucking lost the plot

[rainbowmess823]

Just a thought, stranger things x fallout au type thing ykyk. I was playing fallout 4 the other day and my mind just went "hey what if we just throw stranger things at this bcos why not" and so this is what I thought of so far and ig spolier warning about fallout 4 if you havent played or finished it yet. So far the characters I have in mind:

----

Steve and Robin: the sole survivor...err I guess they'd be the duo survivors? They are married but for convenience and tax purposes only, they're very much still platonic and besties. I'll explain later

Shaun/Father: idk yet maybe Henry or Brennen (this means yes synth Shaun will prolly be El but I'm not sure as of yet)

Nancy: Piper Wright

Mike: Nat Wright

Murray: Nick Valentine?

Chrissy: Curie

Eddie: Deacon

Jonathan: Preston Garvey? Mmmmm

Argyle: Mama Murphy

Billy: Kellog

Hopper: Hancock? Preston?

Joyce: Desdemona?

Aaaaand the rest of the party remains as themselves. They're there and Steve and Robin become their step-in parents and the party (with the exception of Will and Mike) in turn have gotten into the habit of calling them Mom and Dad.

----

That's all so far tho I'm not totally sure about some of them just yet, lemme know what you think.

[imagineacoolusername]

I posted 12,276 times in 2022

That's 12,276 more posts than 2021!

467 posts created (4%)

11,809 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lovelettersmp4

@viva-la--resistance

@spookywheeler

@autistic-ace-bee

I tagged 1,475 of my posts in 2022

#byler - 302 posts

#byler tumblr - 280 posts

#stranger things 4 - 268 posts

#st4 spoiler - 149 posts

#st4 spolier - 44 posts

#stranger things - 42 posts

#will byers - 41 posts

#<3 - 26 posts

#theultimatecountdown - 25 posts

#stranger things 4 trailer - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#you create from discontent. most of your life has been spent being uncomfortable in your own skin. this body is just another house that's ne

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

now, i KNOW That it's probably his shirt, but like,,,

he's at the byers', and how many times have we seen him wear a plaid shirt exactly?

plus, it kinda looks like will's, imagine them buying matching shirts

See the full post

190 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

#4

"i love mike but-" "i like byler but-" "i'm not homophobic but-" "will is gay but-"

literally shut the fuck up

191 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#3

i'm wondering what would happen if they don't get interrupted during one of their tender emotional moments.

would they keep staring into each other's eyes lovingly? would they move closer? would will hint at his feelings for mike? would mike snap out of it and be like "haha man that was awkward bro, i gotta go... dude. we're friends haha"?

i need to know

230 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#2

if there's any kind of physical contact between them in vol2, a hug, a handhold, an encouraging pat, literally whatever, i need it to be mike who initiates it. not only to make up for his half assed hug at the airport, but also so that byler antis won't have the excuse that "will is obviously forcing himself on mike and mike just hugged back because he feels bad for him".

239 notes - Posted June 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

this is the closest to byler we've had and i don't know how to feel about it

296 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[wri0thesley]

Ok so, this is gonna be annon for obv reasons but I feel like I need to vent about smth and also ask for opinions. I started reading the book series called Shatter me whuch contains 6 main books and 3 novellas(order to shatter me series without the novellas:1shatter me, 2unravel me, 3ignite me, 4restore me,5defy me, 6imagine me)

I started reading it a year ago and really loved it, getting addicted, but stopped at ignite me bc I felt like I didnt want to finish so the feeling of warmth didnt leave(if that makes sense). However, I got tons if spoliers thanks to tiktok and it made me scared of finishing the series as to ignite me tehnically could be considerate an ending since the main character becomes the supreme comander. I was so scared of finishing it that I ended up not buying the 4th book-Restore me untill a month ago. Before that, when I was finally determined to finish the series, I figured I shoud buy a novella first and read it(tbh it was mainly bc I wasnt really having the courage to start Restore me so I decided to read the novella first. Also, its important to note that the novellas arent necessary to be read for the story to be relevant but it does add a lot of important things that would be hard to figure without them). After reading the novella I felt really bad bc I was feeling like I would lose the memories I had with the first 3 volumes and decider to not read the 4th volume. Eventually(a week later to br precise) I finally bought restore me(which I only read 1 week leater due to not having the courage). At page 100 of Restore me, the 4th volume,I started feeling really emotional, like I was losing smth that I cant explain or understand and also my view on some characters. I took a small break(a few days) and continued reading it. I am currently on page 342 and feel like crying(I think im being too emotional and cant talk to others about this withot them looking at me weirdly saying im over reacting but I really cant help the way im feeling, uk?). A lot of confusion at the part I reached and a lot of sadness asswell(this book is breaking me fr and feel the need to keep going but at the same time have the feeling that Im gonna regret it if I continue it) made me go back to tiktok to understand why Nazeera(a character who couldnt have meet the main character before based on the first books logic) knew Juliette(the main character). And I found out things that are worse, like the fact that Juliette has a sister who has been tortured by the restablishment for 12 years, that Juliette has meet the kids of supreme comanders(there is a supreme comander for each: North America, South America, Europe, Asia, Africa and Oceania) when she was little, including Aaron(the love interest, son of supreme comander of North America) among her sister, Emmaline. And in Restore me, so far, I found out that Emmaline was tortured by Aaron(who couldnt remember neither of the sisters and to him, Emmaline was a stranger) and Emmaline begged him to stop. Thanks to the spoliers I now realise that Emmaline begged her old friend but Aaron was being begged by a stranger. Like- she must have felt so betrayed??? Excuse me?? And ir really hurts thinking about it. I am so close to finishing Restore me(it has 400smth pages) but I really feel like I dont want to yet I also feel the need to, uk? Rn, Im in a car ride thats gonna be a few hours and cannot read(I have the book on me). Do you have any advise on how to navigate thro this situation? Have you been thro smth like this before? Please tell me.

Also, im sorry for the rant and if my english is lacking.

anon i appreciate you but this book ask is deeply confusing to me as someone with no interest in this series! i also am the kind of Hater who finishes books no matter how much i hate them. i have literally dnf-ed two books on goodreads in about ten years. i would just read it and seethe