#maybe it will be one of her closest friends

[springcourthighlady]

Treacherous | Tamlin & Briar @thehighlordofspring

"Tamlin, wait--", she calls out softly as he heads toward his tent. She scrambles to her feet and rubs her arms a bit, picking up her cloak from where it fell on the ground.

"I don't ever want you to blame yourself for what happened to me. Lilly and me and the rest of The Blessed...we planned that trek. We went in the middle of the night. We climbed up the wall. It was our own actions that got us spotted by Hybern. Campfires and laughter...joy. We foolishly made ourselves targets. Regardless of anything happening on your side. He took us. He jailed us. He tortured us. And he used the Cauldron and killed us. Not you."

Taking a few steps closer, she raises her chin to meet his gaze. "You had nothing to do with that. You are a protector and a leader, and you would never let that happen to anyone if you could prevent it. When I was the last one left, shaking in that cell from shock and blood loss...you didn't walk by." She swallows hard. "You didn't...gawk or enjoy the sight of my pain or my ripped scraps of clothing. He could have killed you if he found out you were a plant and not an ally. And you still risked taking away my pain. So I don't ever want to hear you blaming yourself for what I went through. Okay? Promise me."

She holds his gaze, unwaveringly. "You did not condemn me. You are my savior. And one day...perhaps my friend. I didn't really have any stock in being human either. Both ways...my mom and my friends are dead. Lilly is dead", she says quietly. "Sometimes I wonder if I leaned on her too much in my grief when I lost my mother. She became my next everything, her and Caedin when he was born. I even helped deliver him, actually. And even though we had other friends...we were the closest. Like sisters, as I mentioned. Family by choice, not blood."

She sighs sadly. "I suppose now I have an eternity to maybe befriend others and attempt to try and live with myself. Being the one that lived, when she should be here to raise her son...the way he lost them both...", her throat bobs. "I'll make sure he has everything and knows about her...how much she loved him and wanted this amazing life for him. And I-I'll give him that. However I can. At least, if I can make it through the night here."

Her eyes shutter. "Hybern snatched us in our tents. In the forest. At night. So I... I'm having a really hard time right now. My brain knows he's dead. Obviously. But my body and my magic doesnt get the message that I'm safe, so...it's in total breakdown mode," she scoffs as she tries to hold back tears. "I will do my very best to stay quiet for you. So at least one of us can sleep."

[quotergirl19]

Anyone else wonder if the Queen Charlotte show is going to include a character that we wind up loving who was close to Charlotte and who was a big gossip and maybe they were badly hurt or even killed when someone wanted revenge?

No? Just me? Ok.

[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.

[lovegrowsart]

no matter whether ppl are trying to make zk's canon relationship out to be sibling coded or associative friends or whatever else ppl make up i feel it all comes from this place of people that don't ship it being unable to handle zuko and katara's canonically deep and intimate friendship at the end of show without (whether subconsciously or not) perceiving it as some kind of threat to whatever katara or zuko ship they DO ship (usually either k/a or z/s or m/z)

they don't know how to acknowledge/write zk (and i don't think them being a m/f ship is divorced from this) having their canonically close friendship alongside whatever they ship because that closeness, no matter how platonic, can't supersede the romance of their own ship. so they just lazily write it off as "siblings" or convince themselves they weren't ever that close in the first place or that katara still secretly hates zuko or something in order to get out of the bind of allowing them to be close friends even if you ship them with other people 🤷‍♀️

[happycattail]

Hey do you think seeing Fearne held captive across from him while he stood there helpless, is finally the kick Orym needed to realize that he can't afford to lose Fearne just like he did Will and Derrig? Do you think it was when he screamed "Fearne" that it finally clicked that she is his best friend as equally as he is hers? That Will may be gone but Fearne is now here? That one best friend may be gone and buried, but the other one is alive and well and here?

[kacievvbbbb]

Look Challengers is very mishanks coded I don't know what to tell you, but it is. And you might say Kacie; Which homoerotic boy is Shanks? Who is the third person in the relationship (buggy maybe)? Would Mihawk need to have an injury? Isn't it a little more nuanced than that? All very important questions, all very valid points but all totally irrelevant.

Because Mihawk is very Tashi Duncan coded and this scene

is very young MiShanks coded.

While this scene is very after breakup but before make up coded.

And that my friends, that's what really matters

[porcelainvino]

oh my god i’m going to meet chris colfer wtf 😭

[hailraykin]

Tw: mention of d**th

[sharkzippo]

fics that remember jubilation lee is actually in the original trilogy ( despite having less than a second of screen time ) and have her as john’s actual non-bobby best friend are so big brained, actually. and they’re right! jubilee is 100% john’s bestie and his worstie all rolled into one.

[viktoriakomova]

echoing last reblogs tags not to be self indulgent in my Feelings and all, and I know this contradicts a LOT of what I’ve said in the last 48 hrs about it, but like. I cannot imagine how perversely appealing it is as a public figure to look at very harsh [to you] commentary about yourself that’s available at your fingertips as a form of self harm if you have a low self esteem

[omgafhsfanin2024]

Oh god is my fnafhs phase coming back. I have an AU Idea and it's very magical girl-y help (a Lil summary in the tags)

[quietwingsinthesky]

Hiiiii! So, a few days ago you were talking about the whole thing with Amy, Rory, and River. And when I saw those posts a thought arose in my head and I wish to share it with you.

Since River grew up with Amy and Rory as Mels. And Mels was Amy's best friend do you think that they ever talked about children? Since I know that it can come up when talking with friends, and like... do you think that Amy might've ever expressed whether or not she wanted children?

And if she didn't, that Mels would've had to listen to her mother say that she doesn't want children? The idea is so heartbreaking and sooo interesting.

What do you think about it?

no, no, see, you're so right and this drives me wild.

because, the way i see it, i don't think amy wanted children. she's somewhere on the 'hasn't thought about it' to 'vaguely negative feelings about it happening' range to me, which falls sharply into 'Not Happening Ever Again' post-s6. (specifically, in terms of having a kid herself, even if she could, i really don't think she would. i do love that she and rory end up adopting a kid later, because that does make sense, for amy pond who grew up alone in one universe with her family swallowed by cracks in time before the doctor helped her set it right again, for her to want to make sure another child won't be alone in the world like she was. getting off-track here.)

and that's so. because the first real memory river/mels has of amy is of amy shooting at her. and depending on how well the silence fucked up the rest of her memory, it might be one of the very first memories she has at all. that's how she met her mother, crying for help and getting a bullet instead. her mother tried to kill her, so of course, you have to think. she must have needed to hear that she was wanted, right? even if she was taken away, even if amy shot her, at some point, melody must have been wanted?

river is good at getting people to do what she wants, but she is very, very bad at subtlety. and mels is younger, has less practice, so when she wants to know this, she's just going to ask. blunt and quick, easy enough because amy's used to the way mels will open her mouth and you just have to be ready to roll with what comes out if you want to keep up. it's why they're such good friends (like mother, like daughter.)

they're nine, and mels asks if amy wants kids, and amy wrinkles up her nose and says she won't have time for children, obviously, once her raggedy doctor finally comes back. they're fifteen, and amy and rory dance will they-won't they in a way that makes mels twitchy to watch, and taunting amy about wanting to have rory's babies is a good way to get on her nerves. but amy calls her gross, tells her she's got more life planned than children would leave room for, and besides, imagine her, a mom? it'd be a disaster.

mels does. a lot. she looks at her mother and just sees her best friend instead. she's not even sure what she wishes was there, but. maybe amy's right. and besides. imagine her, a daughter, instead of the ticking time bomb she really is? it'd be a disaster.

they're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and on. mels stands on the outside of a love story that births a universe. and her. how do you compete with that? not that she would know, not yet, she hasn't been there. but it doesn't make her feel any less alienated when amy and rory talk in whispers about a half-remembered world that's bled through to this life, about roman soldiers and boxes and the big bang of belief.

all these memories, they never mention children. on amy's wedding day, she's different, not like someone remembering a dream but someone who lived it. rory stands straighter, won't leave her side, and they're both so much older than they were yesterday. maybe now, right? a wedding's as good a time as any to decide you want kids.

mels not being at amy & rory's wedding is such an obvious lazy way of them trying to explain why they totally didn't just throw this plot twist together at the last minute that i'm not even going to acknowledge it. of course she was at their wedding. she's their best friend. there's too many people around the doctor, and she wasn't ready today of all days, so despite this horrible burning need under her skin to strike, she stays her hand. doesn't let him dance with her because she might just tear his throat out if he gets too close. stays with amy and rory as the maid of honor should. she must have been there for the awkward questions that always gets asked, 'so, any plans for a baby?' 'when am i getting grandkids?' 'oh, you two are going to have gorgeous children together.' standing a few feet from amy in her wedding dress and watching her mother tense and grit her teeth and brush off the questions. watching her look nervously at rory but never ask if he means it when his mom asks him if he'd prefer a son or a daughter, and rory answers 'either one, some day, not anytime soon.'

god i'm just going on and on, aren't i. but really, what's it like to know that amy never changed her mind. the next time she sees them, she's already been born and stolen. i don't like let's kill hitler for. so many reasons. but there is something compelling about how recklessly river lashes out at the world, at the doctor. even her sacrifice at the end is almost suicidal, throwing all her regenerations into this man without knowing if that will even work or if it might kill her to do it. but it makes more sense in the context of someone who has reached the end of a long, long wait for some kind of indication, any kind, that her mother wanted to have her. and finally been told, no. she didn't choose melody.

[orcgirlcock]

i need to kiss someone right now. i need to hold their face as i lean in for the kiss. i need to feel their lips against mine and have our tongues slide across each other. i need to feel the slight hesitation before they finally give in and kiss me back with everything they've got. i need to feel the saliva stringing between our mouths. i need to feel their hands pulling me closer, desperate to feel all of me

[scratxhed-cd]

I’m gonna be pathetic real quick,

[fishyartist]

Tumblrina 2 me btw. Would ride up and say some shit like “I’m not trans but I believe in their beliefs” or maybe say some shit about leaving to “steal some shoelaces” then kicking Joe Biden in the sack or something

[homoeroticvillain]

sorta bianca redesign idk