#(lovingly.. i think anything they can do that doesn't involve Talking is probably a good first step LOL)

[madschiavelique]

Hiii! Could I request some angst/fluff jealousy headcanons with Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep, Karlach and whoever else you think might work? For f! (Or gn) tiefling Tav

hi love!! i'm so sorry i took so freaking long but the burnout is insane and i'm trying to get back into both art and writing but i hope this will be good <33

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : rolan, haarlep, raphael, karlach

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : mention of threesome (not actual threesome), mostly fluff, these are super soft, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2102 ( between 444 and 600 per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan : 

Rolan wants to pretend that he's not affected by anything, to keep his composure no matter how much his brothers and sisters tease him. However, he is far from indifferent when he sees someone trying to win you over using his own magical territory.

An elf magician was trying his luck by talking to you, surely thinking that an ‘exotic’ creature like a tiefling had probably never seen a magic trick. He was trying to charm you with coloured sparkles in the air sprouting from his fingers, letting little fireworks dance before your eyes.

His tricks were nothing extraordinary, but the braggadocio with which the elf tried to win you over as if you were an easy mark left a bitter taste in Rolan's mouth.

This pathetic amateur was displaying classic spells, ones you'd obviously seen before. But he had the nerve to get a little closer to you with each trick.

It was when he pulled a rose out from behind your ear that Rolan couldn't stand still. 

A shower of scarlet petals fell from the sky. You looked up at the ceiling of the tower hall, but no one was throwing them, they were all coming down like snow from nowhere. 

With a flick of the wrist, a few falling petals joined together to form two wreaths that impaled themselves on your horns.

Rolan calmly walked over to you, a smile and a triumphant attitude to his gesture as the elf seemed to blush with shame.

“If you're trying to charm someone who's worth more than anything your miserable centuries of existence have brought you, you'd better crown her like the queen she is.”

The elf didn't even say a word, glaring at him before leaving with a hasty step, Rolan watching him until he disappeared behind the tower doors. His gaze fell once more on yours, who also looked as triumphant as ever.

“Like the queen she is, hm?” you repeated.

Rolan's cheeks turned from poppy to cherry, the shelves and tiles in the tower suddenly looking very interesting.

“He had no right to take you for a fool,” he muttered.

You smiled, taking one of the crowns on your horns and placing it around one of his. You cupped his face and kissed him lovingly, pulling away from his lips to look into his eyes.

“All the other wizards may try, only you can enchant me.”

You kissed him on the forehead, moving to the reception desk to greet a customer as you said: 

“Oh and,” you pointed to your flower crown, smiling, “I like these rings,’.

Rolan covered his face with his hands as he turned redder than ever.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael : 

Raphael knows that he has nothing to worry about when it comes to being jealous, because you're faithful to him and he only has eyes for you.

However, he's well aware that the fact that you're his partner can lead to a few mischievous people trying to get at you for various reasons.

The first, of course, is to use you as leverage for Raphael. They think you're his weakness, and while that's not entirely untrue, he doesn't want to involve you in his affairs.

Others simply want to push him to his limits, pester him until he loses his temper.

And others try to get close to you to try to influence you and get Raphael to do things for them. They know that in his darkest moments you're the light that holds him in place, and they try to play on that.

But he knows that no matter how hard they try to make him flinch through you, it's futile.

However, he can't help feeling annoyed when, once again, when Mizora is visiting him on business, she keeps ogling you.

Every visit was like that, with her making undisguised advances towards you, observing every outfit you wore and remarking on those you'd worn before, telling you that she'd buy you some better clothes to suit the beauty you were.

Raphael wanted you to be well dressed; he presented you with a variety of outfits and it was up to you to choose them. It didn't matter to him, you looked stunning in every outfit after all. But it was insulting that Mizora tried to tell him how his taste was awful through her advances to you.

He watched Mizora's insistence from his desk, her behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders to whisper something. Her tail wrapped around your waist, and that was too much.

"Mizora, I think your business here is finished for the moment, I'll study the file you've brought. I've got things to do for now, and I suppose you've got a busy schedule yourself. I'm not showing you the way out, you must surely know it by now."

Mizora gave a dry huff, looking Raphael up and down with annoyance.

"Perhaps your little love could show me the way back ?" she teasingly suggested, looking at you like you were her next meal.

"Don't you have other tortured souls in need of help to care to ?" he sighed, unamused by her comment.

She hummed, frowning at him before disappearing in thin air.

Raphael was about to say something, his lips parted, but you cut him off.

"By the Nine Hells, I thought she'd never end," you sighed loudly in annoyance, slamming the book you were clutching brutally and putting it back on the shelf.

To say that Raphael was surprised was an understatement; he looked at you, mouth agape and eyes wide as you approached him.

"To think she can defeat the master of charm at his own art, in his own house," you said, one of your hands resting on his chest as your middle and index fingers mimicked two legs going up to his shoulder, "devils truly think they can win it all, can't they?’’

He smiled, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of your back to press you closer to him. His free hand came to grip your chin, his thumb caressing the skin of your lower lip.

"I did win it all, didn't I, my little mouse ?"

You smiled, kissing just the corner of his lips without ever touching them.

"I could say the same, my devil."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep : 

To think an incubus would be jealous would be ironic, especially for Haarlep. They have taken so many lovers, are not attached to anyone, and their very nature generally isn’t used to making attachments that pull that hard on the strings of their desire-red heart.

Except you. You’re obviously the only one that matters to them, the only one that actually considered them as something more than an object of lust but as a real being.

This connection is something they want to protect, to keep as theirs, as the only thing they ever considered they could have for themselves.

So obviously they are not much of a fan of the fact the Archivist is trying to hit on you.

Being stuck in the House of Hope, they spend their time like they can, and most of the time they spend it with you. Not just because they love you but because you’re the best company they had in an eternity.

And this idiot thinks he has the right to come near you like that.

They see him, trying to have your hands touch when you’re reaching for a tome in the archives. They see how he tries to get closer to you to show you an inscription in one of the many books in the stacked shelves of the room.

However their patience runs thin when you climb on the ladder to get to the higher tomes, and he keeps it steady while his eyes are shamelessly on your ass.

“Little one ?” they call, “why don’t you come over here and read to me ?”

Without questioning them, you go down the ladder under the confused eyes of the Archivist. You walk up to Haarlep, sitting next to him as you open the book, but he stops you before you even start.

“Come on, love, you know you’ve got a much better sit than that.”

They pat their lap, and with a little smile you sit on them. They lace their arms around your waist instantly, pressing their cheek against your neck as they hug you and you start your read.

They keep their eyes planted in his as they press a kiss on your neck that makes you giggle, placing pecks on your skin and making you laugh.

“Are you even listening to me ?” you ask, turning to them with a smile.

“Of course I am,” they assure you, one of their hands coming to caress your cheek before softly kissing your lips. “Please, continue.”

As you set more comfortably against them and continue reading, Haarlep’s eyes go back to the Archivists who’s biting the inside of his cheek.

You’re too immersed in the tome to notice how Haarlep is glaring at the Archivist, their tail circling around your ankle.

It’s silent, Haarlep wouldn’t dare to interrupt you again while you’re reading, but their eyes speak for it all : Mine.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ karlach : 

Karlach isn’t jealous that easily, she trusts you more than anyone in this world after all. she knows you care for her, more than anyone ever did, and most importantly you’re the person she trusts the most.

she has more complicated matters to worry about than you being interested in someone else, such as her heart problems. so naturally, she is not jealous that easily.

One evening, however, you were staying in an inn for the night. You had gone to the counter to collect your orders, as the old couple running the inn had become less adaptable and lively and were no longer serving the food. 

There were quite a few people there that evening, and the little children helped them as best they could. It was while you were waiting at the counter that another tiefling struck up a conversation with you.

Karlach was watching you from afar as she sat at your table, seeing you smile, then laugh as the stranger chatted with you. 

Suddenly her heart felt cold. It was obvious that the man was trying to flirt with you, whispering something in your ear, and you were doing almost nothing to interrupt him or push him away.

The orders finally arrived, and you came back to the table smiling.

"You won't believe the conversation I just had," you began excitedly.

Karlach thought you were going to dwell on the fact that he was funny, funnier than her, better than her in your eyes. 

“Oh yeah ?” she asked nevertheless before taking a sip of her freshly arrived ale, never wanting to break your happiness.

“Yeah! He tried flirting with me, and when he asked if he could buy me a drink, I told him I was taken already.”

Karlach’s shoulders untensed instantly, whatever fear or doubt she had about herself vanished in the air.

“As if he had a chance with you,” she laughed along.

“You don’t know the best part yet,” you leaned towards her to lower your tone, “he asked me if the one I was with was the super hot tiefling lady at my table.”

Karlach blushed as she heard that, hearing from the mouth of other people that she was hot - other than literally hot - always felt so unusual.

“What happened next ?” she asked, leaning towards you as well to hear you better.

“I said yes, and he came to whisper to my ears,” you leaned towards her until your lips were grazing her ear, “would you two be interested in a threesome ?”

Her mouth fell open, the sensation of your lips on her ear like so and the lust-filled suggestion whispered to her was almost enough to make her forget about her previous worries.

You pulled back, grabbing your fork and knife to start your food. “I gently pushed him off, that doesn’t interest me, especially when I have the best partner I could ever wish for. He’s gonna have a hard time being better than best.”

Karlach’s heart was ablaze again, fueled up for the entire night, hells, the entire week.

“I can still make sure you get your ride tonight, sweetheart.” She suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“Finally an offer I can take,” you smiled, bringing your cup of wine to your lips as your eyes set on hers.

“How long till you’re done eating ?”

“Five minutes.”

“Poor owners, they might have to buy a new bed after us.” she laughed.

[raayllum]

I've thought about Terry and Rayla parallels before ("I think too much, get confused about the right thing to do" / "says I think too much about everything" / elves supporting their mages / Rayla leaving as love vs Terry refusing to leave as love / lovingly watching your partner sleep, etc etc). Even the way they can sometimes enable Callum and Claudia's actions.

This is more true, of course, in Terry's case than Rayla's, but in a similar vein that their bonds of love are unbreakable (look at Rayla and Runaan) and that it would take a LOT for Rayla to ever even consider maybe that Callum could make a Seriously Bad Decision (she got straight up told he had a heart full of darkness and went "you're the best/goodest person I know" + the idea of Callum being controlled by Aaravos in a bad way being unfathomable to her in S4).

However what I want to talk about today is their attitudes towards dark magic.

Part of why Terry loves Claudia, I think, is that he doesn't see anything 'wrong' with dark magic. He's seen her do "a lot of awful things, dark magic things" but dark magic to him is also useful and fine and has a tingly aftertaste. It's not a hangup for him with Viren or Claudia; all he see is that she has a Good Reason, and that's all he needs, because there's no moral wedge in the way to begin with.

That doesn't mean he has zero discomfort with dark magic ("You think if dark magic did this to someone, they might not do it") or Claudia's actions ("The way you treated that Moonshadow elf, it was just cruel" / "Please, Claudia, you don't have to do this, it's trapped, you won").

But even Sir Sparklepuff's murder gets couched under "had a good reason" because it did bring Viren back, which Terry happily joyously celebrated when it happened. With all that in mind, Terry has always reminded me of Ethari — you fell in love with someone who engages in "dark work, bloody work" (Lost Child) and you knew what it would involve, and love them regardless. That's not a choice or mindset that's easily broken, but it does lead to Terry's lack of assertiveness fucking him up in ways that Claudia's passivity can too ("Please Terry, tell me what to do" / "[to Aaravos] Tell me what to do").

Terry's lack of moral qualms with dark magic is clearest to me in 6x04 in some ways, because of this exchange with Claudia:

C: All I see is parts, for spells. T: But...? C: But it's so adorable!

His but being an 'okay but WHY is this a problem for you now?' not 'yeah Sounds Concerning (and like a red flag) jc'. Claudia says she's all messed up inside, but Terry (for whatever reason) can't fully conceptualize what she means. This also leads to him not truly understanding what it is and what it's doing to his partner (probably because he met her when she was already more than mid-spiral) because if Terry fully understood how it was hurting her...

Don't you think he'd tell her to stop?

Meanwhile, even though Rayla does have moral qualms with dark magic, she doesn't focus on any of them in her argument with Callum just an episode earlier. Instead, it's all about him and the risk it poses to him and his emotions.

But most importantly because it makes you more vulnerable to the thing you're most afraid of.

Not "well Aaravos could control you and that'd be bad for everyone else / the world" but that it scares him, it hurts him, it puts him in danger. Granted, she still switches to the greater good concern later both for mitigating the harm Callum might do ("If you ever have to choose between me or the greater good, do the right thing: make the sacrifice") and on her own end ("Yes. I promise [to kill you]" + "taught me to never break my promises") but that's not her primary concern, at least not in my head.

And it's precisely because of those reasons that Rayla tells him very overtly what to do, both in regards to sacrificing her and in regards to saving him:

Rayla has unbreakable bonds of love, too, nor are her moral qualms about dark magic why she's making this point. It's because her main drive has always been to protect Callum, not even necessarily to help him, and therefore his safety is at the top of her list, so if something hurts or puts him in danger, she's going to tell him to knock it off. (And that includes saving her, but anyway.) Their mutual assertiveness with one another is one of the reasons why Rayla and Callum work, and one of the reasons Terry and Claudia were going to crash and burn, because Callum is likewise Rayla's anchor, and Terry and Claudia didn't realize they needed to be each other's until it was too late

I risked losing the best thing I ever had: you.

[grokebaby]

@magnuficentwo

AYYYY UNDERRATED VARPUNEN FAM TIME LESGOOO. I'm thinking I'll try to say one positive and one negative but I won't force it if it stalls me

P - Negative: See she was born into a warrior family (aka she's the beast variety of demon), which in itself was just not the right lifestyle for her personally. Real stressful. I could pick probably multiple experiences from here but let's highlight the string of clashes between a Plague from those days who ended up killing and injuring several beasts. There are still two living Villagers that bear the scars from this time. P, however, bears the mental scars of having one or her co apprentices and teachers murdered. She has survivors guilt and various other kinds of guilt from this and suffered a bad freeze reaction that has stayed with her for a while.. The victims weren't even super close to her, but it was the sheer horror of the fact that anyone could just die (and in her mind, it'd be her fault bc she failed to help them).

As a bonus, btw, the plague involved in these events is dead nowadays. Please, do take a guess as to how.

Positive: One time, P and Nan were left home alone together for roughly a week, and since P mostly didn't interact with Nan aside from what she deemed necessary, things got quiet and awkward for a bit.. P was honestly scared, bc she had the fear that this was some kind of test from their husband - one she could fail miserably, somehow, so she remained on her tiptoes the whole time. He said he'd be off on a business trip and as the author I can verify this is actually true, and it wasn't a test, but unfortunately Ps mental state was... Not good. Thanks to him. A few days in, Nan approaches P carefully and tells her that it's okay if she doesn't know what to say, and if she needs her alone time. But if she did want to hang out, or talk, or anything, Nan would be here listening, no pressure to come up with anything special. See Nan had thought that the avoidance had more to do with Ps social anxiety and being a very withdrawn person, rather than paranoia over their husband. Although I won't deny she had a hunch..

Either way, this left a very positive impression on P, and she found some kind of strength in the fact that maybe, just maybe, if things get bad enough, she can lean on Nan. That, and she decided then and there to try her best to treat nan better and try to approach her on her terms. It didn't end up happening too much (not enough in her eyes), but it did still happen.

Sighs lovingly. P deserves way more attention imo. I did not hold back from rambling. Anyways!

Pesticinger - Negative: (TW TORTURE FEEL FREE TO SKIP) So it's widely known she's unpopular amongst humans for obvious reasons, so they often plot various things to get back at her, and often try to even capture or kill it. So there's this waterfall. A group of humans really want Pesticinger to have her "comeuppance" for what she's put them through. So this waterfall. They've set a trap there, where there's a rope that ties into a noose when released, and it hangs under the rushing water. Pesticinger is lured into this trap, and here's the situation: she's got a noose around her throat, and it tightens the further you pull on it. If she gets swept up by the water's pull, it starts choking her, combined with the water trying to pull her under. So she has to literally constantly fight the water, or she suffocates (either by drowning, or noose). It is not a good time. Her feathers get soaked the hell out so flying becomes difficult, she's quickly exhausted and it's kinda hard to call for help when you're trying to fight suffocation. She was rescued, of course. Poor bird. But she can barely even look at a noose, and the noise of waterfalls gives her anxiety. So do ropes, if they're put anywhere near her body.

This next memory I'm not sure if I'd label it necessarily either strictly positive or negative but it was very impactful for her. See Pesticinger has the mental capacity to get really, really introspective and existential, but the way her brain works, also sometimes leads it to tie itself into knots and leads her down dead ends she can't think herself out of. So it can definitely overwhelm itself by overthinking. When she was still very young, in one of these cases, she came to speak to her creator henself; the Mistress. It asked many panicked, disjointed questions, trying to untangle it's mind, and getting distressed, it started knocking at it's head with it's foot. The Mistress, gently, places hens hand on Pesticingers face to block the hits, and they share silent eye contact for a moment.

"Dear bird.. You don't have to know all the answers. You might, someday, but you don't need to. You are more than just a bird, or a beast; you are a force of nature. Even still, you can be as ordinary as you want. Just don't forget yourself."

Pesticinger still feels.. Bittersweet, about it. She's frustrated that she didn't get the answers, in fact the denial of them entirely upset her back then. But she can't say it wasn't also comforting. The reason this memory isn't purely positive is mainly due to Pesticingers mindset.

I think I'll cap this post here BUT BEFORE I DO I'll include just a little something from Nan bc. My number one Varpunen fam for sure. It'll be under the cut

I'll be vague bc I was actually writing a whole thing about this and it's still kinda in progress. But.

Something that's really stuck with Nan was when she, at one point, took her kids to see their grandpa, aka Nans father. He knew there were kids, but hadn't met them due to life just sweeping everyone up for a while.

He did not react well to seeing them. Their visit became very short and very uncomfortable. Nan had to have a talk with her father privately, (His name is Yngve Surström, btw) while the kids awkwardly waited outside.

This would become the last time Nan sees her father before he disappeared completely. Nobody knows why. Or how.

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 38, 39, and the Epiparodos of Harrow the Ninth

Something that hasn't been made entirely clear to me about John's airless room: Mercy thought that Harrow wouldn't be able to survive in the airless room, but I remember John telling her that she didn't need to breathe way back when they were on the shuttle, and in the last chapter John is still offering to let her stay in his airless room with him when the Heralds come, so I'm a bit confused about whether or not this is actually a viable option for her, and if it is viable, why she isn't considering it at this point when she starts to believe she will really die

I'm blanking on an episode where Harrow hid under her bed waiting for Gideon the First. When was that?

This Cytherea episode sort of brings into question all of the other Cytherea episodes, and maybe she did hallucinate some or all of them. But Cytherea's body did disappear, and someone put Gideon the First in the incinerator, and there isn't really any good answer for who else that might have been

Does he mean that he failed her by failing to kill her all this time, or is he talking about something else?

And I also don't have any idea whose idea this could have been. I think everyone else on the Mithraeum has stepped in to save her from him at least once, Augustine and Mercy and Ianthe even helped her try to kill him once, it seems like if any of them had wanted to mercy-kill her they would have had ample opportunities to just let her die

I wonder if this is just because she is used to having experiences that she knows aren't real and is used to managing her reactions to them, or if it's at least partly because she's not quite a regular Lyctor anymore, so the Heralds have less of an effect on her?

The Epiparodos (apparently: the second appearance of the Greek Chorus) is interesting for being Ianthe POV, but I don't think it tells me anything I don't already know, except for maybe that Ianthe thinks about art a lot, which might explain why she likes Cyrus's nude paintings. We don't find out what she did, exactly, or what's in any of the unopened letters. It is impressive that Harrow did brain surgery on herself and maybe manually rewrote a bunch of her memories, and it seems to have worked out exactly the way she wanted it to, from what I can tell, I think her plans were only foiled by the existence of the Heralds

So, can you undo a blood ward by using the person's blood somehow? She's been using blood wards to protect herself from Gideon the First for a while now, if he could undo her wards using her blood, I think he probably had a decent opportunity to get some of her blood to do that, didn't he? Or does Harrow think a blood ward won't work for some other reason?

I just want to point out that I think this is the second time someone was entranced by Harrow's philtrum, this also happened in Gideon the Ninth and maybe it's just me but it seems like such an odd body part to wax lyrical about. Also my browser's spellchecker doesn't even know it's a real word

I'm not sure what she's referring to, here. To the issues she has with Naberius not dying willingly? That seems like the opposite of Harrow's problem. Is it about her losing her arm? Or leaving her sister behind?

She just meant that it was their duty to serve John now, right? I don't think there's any way she could have known about the resurrection beasts yet, especially since her plan specifically involved not dying

Ok, I guess I did learn one new thing: the secret to why Harrow's hair grew out so fast

You know, I thought all of their weird tension was mostly because of the kiss at the beginning of the book, but she is already thinking this (and already gazing lovingly at Harrow's philtrum) before that ever happens

I have no idea what this might be about. I think this might actually be the first time the word "queen" has ever even appeared in this story (and I don't think "king" has either, outside of "the King Undying"), the heads of the Houses don't ever seem to be referred to as kings or queens. We do have a duchess and a baron and princes and princesses, but since one of John's titles is "the King Undying" I would have assumed that other people being accorded the rank of king or queen would be considered sacriligious

Ok, something I saw, when I went back to the Dramatis Personae of Gideon the Ninth to find out how many European nobility terms that book used:

House of the Sewn Tongue? As in, the tongue-and-jaw necromancy Harrow did to Ianthe to prevent her from telling everyone about her brain surgery? That's important enough to the Ninth House to be one of the names that's commonly used for it?

Ok, I remembered that I have text search on the Nook app, so I went through and searched all of Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth for the word "queen" and all I found was

Gideon calling Harrow her "crepuscular queen" and so forth

Cytherea talking about being in "the queenhood of her power" (or not), which interestingly is quoted back later as "the queendom of my power" instead

Ianthe and Corona being described as "queenly" or "like a queen" a couple of times

And after that, the next appearance of "queen" is this appearance in Harrow the Ninth. So it's never been used remotely as an actual title before

[kabannoneko]

Game Thoughts - Little Inferno by Tomorrow Corporation

To be honest, I only wanted to play this game cause it looked silly. But as I soon found out, it was silly, yes, but it wasn't completely so! (Or rather, that's not all it is.) And I like it! - Gure

What's It About?

So, you play as a guy who's gotten himself a brand new "Little Inferno Entertainment Fireplace", which is basically a fireplace that can burn a lot of different things, even a bomb… and even a mini sun. Woooooow…

But why, you ask?

Well… For self-entertainment! And also cause it's very cold outside, for some reason, as you're supposed to find out in the story. To be fair, you'll find out pretty early anyway, so it's not too much of a spoiler.

Writing

I didn't think it would have that much of a story, not gonna lie, but yeah, there's a story, apparently! And they did a good job telling that story through dialogue from the characters other than yourself.

lol and there's also the item descriptions! That dark humor really is something… I'm gonna have to tell you all that they're not shy about showing and describing certain objects that might trigger/disturb people.

I do like how they tell you bits and pieces of the story through letters from the other characters, and I really find it amazing that it all comes together in the end. Like, questions that you may have as a player get answered, but it's not like they tell it to you in one go… you go out and talk to the characters involved.

Probably won't say any more, but remember that even though you're "by yourself" in the game, you're certainly not alone.

Art

First thing that comes to mind is that everything looks pretty whimsical, even though some of those things aren't really what you would wanna see, like syringes… bombs… meds… It kind of reminds me of something like The Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride. I like it.

Music

The music fits the game pretty well, and there are a lot of little noises that the items make that I really like. Really keeps the game from being too tedious when it comes to waiting for items to get delivered.

The volume starts pretty loud, however, and there's no way to reduce it in-game. And that pretty much means that you have to use your computer system's volume mixer so you can set it right. Also, for some reason, it gets a copyright notice when we upload it. Thankfully, it's not a strike or anything like that.

Gameplay

The game pretty much has two parts to it, basically. The first part has you buying stuff through catalogs provided to you, waiting to get them, and then burning them in the fireplace to get money as well as get combos. Some item combinations are obvious, but some really take some thinking and some knowledge of things (to be honest, I had to look at a guide for a few of them.) This was the part that got me to play it, but apparently, it's more than that.

The second part has you walk around and talk to people and stuff. Not gonna lie, just saying that doesn't really do it justice lol. Basically, what happens is that some of the loose ends get tied… I can't really talk about it so much, cause I think it's better just to experience the whole thing.

Either way… There's not much I can consider bad, except maybe for the parts where I have to wait a lot during the first part (especially since I didn't know the items Sugar Plumps sends you aren't too important at all lol). Like, if you were playing by myself, maybe you wouldn't mind it as much, but if there's people watching you play, I would suggest that you have something to talk about.

Overall

This is a pretty nice, surprisingly deep(?) game that provides you the fun of burning things down (which you shouldn't really do that freely IRL lol) and gently and lovingly reminds you that there's a whole wide world out there. It can be a little on the short side, considering you can actually finish it in a single sitting, but I think the story's worth it.

You can get it on Steam. (There's a Christmas-themed (or is it Santa-themed) DLC too, by the way.)

[bougiebutchbitch]

oh my GOD, your tags about kkgai and obkk 😳🙏 now I'm thinking about the three of them together and what that dynamic would be like?? gai who is so giving, who wants to give kakashi what he wants, and who will put up with kakashi's relentless teasing - but then obito who wants to (lovingly) take kakashi apart, who would maybe punish him for the teasing. so kakashi knows that however far he pushes gai towards overstimulation, he's also happily sealing his own fate with how far obito pushes him. and then gai with his relentless stamina taking over to take kakashi apart in a softer way, with a gentleness that feels almost harder to handle.

and gai and obito, how would they fit together? I imagine the demeaning dom side of obito would be a hard no for gai. they would probably all love praise though (and dirty talk)

sdlkfjghksldfhgkjlsdfhkgjsdfg anon how dare you pry apart the deepest, darkest folds of my brain and stare into the abyss between

listen

I have a big kakaobigai fic in the plotting phase. And, ahem. I may have thought a great deal about various dyanmics... MOSTLY SFW IN FAIRNESS TO ME, it's more plot-focused than smut!

But.

But.

(Tl;dr: The glorious symmetry of Kakashi domming Gai, Obito domming Kakashi, and Gai domming Obito)

Okay, let's start with the husbands.

Gai has big service!top/bottom energy. Sex for him is more about his partner than himself - though there are some places he doesn't go, and Kakashi respects that. Like. Gai can soft dom very well! He's delighted to hold Kakashi down, if that's what his rival wants! But he doesn't enjoy mean domming or anything mega!hardcore that involves serious pain or safewords, rather than stopping at the first sign of a 'no'. He'd much rather make Kakashi squirm by praising him - but as much as Kakashi likes that (deep, deep down), it also makes him really uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Gai also loves it when Kakashi gets bossy. When Kakashi's the one calling the shots, making Gai work hard to hold his attention... It has the energy of all their best challenges! Gai knows Kakashi enjoys every moment, but he also acts so aloof and cool and in control, and makes Gai prove himself to him, and calls him 'good boy' when he's done, and - oh. Ohhhhh. So, um. That's a thing.

Look, Kakashi panicked and was trying to stay in the scene but had no idea what to say! So, he instinctually went to how he'd praise an obedient dog, and...

WELL, IT WORKED

Obito... well, he and Kakashi have. A different dynamic. Kakashi goes to Obito when he wants to be hurt. Not in self-punishment (though I reckon, uh, he tries. Obito shuts that down real fast after maybe one session that's fucking awful for both of them.) But when he wants someone to dom him so hard he forgets his own name, Obito's comfortable pushing him physically and mentally a whole lot closer to his break-point than Gai is.

And - well. It's always a real privilige for Obito to put Kakashi into this state! Maybe a part of him will always get a thrill out of reducing cold, cocky commander-Kakashi to a drooling, whimpering mess. But a part of him is also so touched and so glad that after everything, he's still being trusted with this. That Kakashi really does see the best in him, and still looks up to him somehow, despite what he did.

He topdrops hard afterwards. Kakashi winds up doing 90% of the aftercare but he genuinely enjoys it, and he still gets snuggled as part of that, so it's good for everyone.

Gai and Obito... that takes longer to work out. They both circle each other like sharks at first. Gai does not like Obito, mostly because Kakashi forgives him too easily, so Gai can't, you understand (and... well, for his own very valid reasons.)

Obito does understand. He understands far too much, because he's not quite sure why he's been forgiven either. But he's also a prideful mofo and a little bit jealous of everything Gai got to be there for, and how his life seems so happy (until, uh, there's a big Neji-related confrontation). There's tension.

But they get along, for Kakashi's sake. And slowly, over the years... They come to understand each other a little more. And appreciate each other. Gai does understand that, at the end of the day, Obito was groomed into evil by Madara from when he was a mega-traumatised 13 year old. He might not think that excuses what Obito did, but he can appreciate that he's just as damaged as the rest of them, in his own way.

They keep up the aggro, but it's mostly a familiar old pattern by now - there's a friendly undertone to it. Maybe... more than friendly? Gai's always appreciated good musculature, after all, and Obito is r i p p e d. And Obito admits, after living with criminally insane Akatsuki (or Madara) for most of his life, Gai's flavour of benign, open, loving insanity is genuinely refreshing... He still gets a little shock, whenever Gai is genuinely nice to him. Whenever anyone is, to be honest.

So, uh. After like, the fifth time they're scowling at each other and Kakashi casually goes 'huh, that's hot', one of them twigs. They're not sure how it starts. But one night, Kakashi's off doing Hokage Stuff and they're alone together and...

And Gai praises Obito ONCE and makes him blush and Discover something about himself and...

And Obito calls Gai daddy.

Worse yet?

Gai likes it.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[tobeornottotc]

Tharn and Type Seven Years Ep 2: Observations and Comments

Wow, what can I say except yes finally after a bit of worry about how this season was going to be especially after being scarred by A chance to love (like Tin and Can are cute but the lack of a good plot and waste of side characters still hunts me to this day), I really came weary into Tharn and Type season 2, but thing is as much as last week the editing, sound issues and some lightning issues worried me, I kind of really enjoyed seeing my couple once again. It was just a bit different to the feeling in season 1 for me (it should be we're seven years in we're meant to have maturity, domesticity, and slower less angsty relationship from Tharn and Type) but yeh because of this different feeling I wasn't sure what to say about this show. But Episode 2 took me back to my love for this couple, and I couldn't help but go through excitement, tears and also just nostalgia for how much it called back to season 1.

 As much as Tharn and Type have grown up and had their issues, the way they settle them now is different, their dynamic is still the same they're still passionate and crazy about each other but its the little things as well that shows how mature they've become, even though Type may curse out everyone including Tharn because that's his personality its the softness from him for me that warms my heart, its the way he's absolutely devoted to Tharn: he still calls out his father and says he'll be a widower without him,(already seeing himself tied to him in a marriage without the actual involvement of the law and people), its the way he ensures that Tharn is protected from being hurt when cooking and worrying about the little scars on his hands, its the way he pridefully tells everyone who he trusts that he's looking at his man and he's not ashamed to look longingly and lovingly at Tharn as he sings their song. It's so beautiful, and it's just so incredible to see his growth and see how absolutely devoted he is to Tharn despite Tharn not fully seeing so. 

Tharn, on the other hand, is the same as always 100% focused Type and making sure Type knows he's his, I just love how they talk to each other, how despite fighting all the time for seven years they find it like a comfort to expose their flawed selves to each other knowing they won't back away. I love how Tharn and Type still have those moments where they show they clearly need each other for comfort and just warmth (cuddle scene and Tharn apologising) and I love how despite having disagreements they go back to normal the next day and ensure that they don't fight for too long. It's just precious and its what I love about them. And of course, their passion which one of the reasons for why they are so great, that chemistry has just gotten better and better and that kiss blew me away in the bathroom. Mew and Gulf are clearly now used to each other, and so much more in tune with each other, their chemistry, sensuality and seductive could be felt from the screen, and I felt like an interloper watching it. It made me scream, made me laugh, but it made me blush, and I remember how much Mew and Gulf engulf the whole show with their chemistry and passion. I'm jealous, to be honest about it all.

Other things to notice

Phu and Cir: They're adorable, their skinship shocked me wasn't expecting the amount of PDA we got from them but I ain't complaining it makes me appreciate this show even more. Phu and Gun are the antitheses to Tharn and Type, they're adorable and soft and proud of their relationship in public, they don't seem to fight or argue, and they have a sweeter dynamic to them, but I do hope for a plot for them instead of just cute stuff because I like their characters and I like the actors. But right now I see what they're here in the show for, they keep being a reminder to Tharn about his own hopes and dreams for what he wants from his relationship; he wants what they have, he wants to be overly affectionate in public and to able to call Type his in front of everyone just like Cir does. So they do have a use, and I don't want people to see them as like just fan service.

Fiat and Leo: Fiat is spoilt, and he gets his way we can see that he goes a bit unstable when Leo is away for a while. Almost he's reliant on Leo, and he's not used to being away from him. Leo is fiercely protective of Fiat as we see his friends keep updating and worrying about Leo's reactions to them not doing Fiats bidding or hurting him. For Fiat I love this actor, he's stubborn and like he doesn't give in typically, childish and immature, and I'm guessing Leo is the opposite. Still, Fiat reminds me of how I felt about Type, he's annoying and flawed, but he's somewhat lovable and intriguing. I can't help but want to care for his character and know more about him, and that's all because of his acting and charisma. I'm so excited to delve deeper into his character, and I can't wait to see how Leo plays a part in this.

The boss: Type isn't someone who likes to be patient so that he will explode later on this person. The question is why is the boss of Type so rude, and disrespectful, he's so like hyperfocused on trying to make Type seem so weak. From what Type has said its to do with jealousy, but I'm not really if that's all it is, he's jealous about Type being so handsome, and charismatic and liked by women that he feels some kind of inferiority complex? Because to be honest just because his girl hit on Type, it's very unprofessional of him to act this way, and I am not okay with it. I cannot wait to see Type punch the living daylights out of him. Eww

Khunpol and Champ: My babies, my soft, cute, sweet babies. They probably will be angsty soon, but I love them already. Champ is one fluffball so much more gentler than he was in Season 1, he's adorable, clueless about love and I'm sure Techno is going to play a massive role snooping and trying to set up Champ and Khunpol. As for Khunpol I can see already that baby boy has a crush on our Champ (even though Champ is so clueless) but the girlfriend mention and the relief on his face when he realises there is none, the way he laughs and gets excited when he saw Champ and a bit of disappointment when he saw Type walk into their conversation pretty much already tells me what I need to know about these two. Khunpol is shy and gentle and wouldn't really try to make anything happen, but he'll probably wait longingly for Champ to recognise how he feels. And Champ is going to be very naive and very dumb about the situation. They kind of remind me of King and Ram in my engineer, Khunpol screams King to me acts innocent and sweet like he doesn't know what's happening but secretly holding and panicking about feelings. And Champ is more like Ram,  a bit distanced from that feeling but soon will realise what's happening. Either way, my babies are making me so excited the way they make each other smile, the skinship from Champ to Khunpol which is automatic apparently and something he just likes to do because he sees Khun as cute and fluffy. Squeal, my heart is about to be stolen by these 2, can't wait to see how they unfold.

Overall this episode of Tharn and Type 7 years has been a blast from the past, I have had so much fun rewatching it and its made me so happy and excited for what's to come. If we get more stuff like this, then Tharn and Type is probably going to stay my favourite show. Still, I am so in love with everything in this so far/  I also wanted to say that it's nice to see them have conversations this episode about work and how they've changed, it's genuine and also very warm to see how they had grown up and graduated from uni when in the past season we watched their immature selves act childish and young and react that way in situations. This show is meant to be a more mature version of Season 1, and I think it's doing that so far. Also can Mew please stop looking so good? Like I can't deal with it, and Gulf as well likes in that uniform like please let me breathe. Haha. I can't wait for the next episode.

[cattles-bians]

Damie Vibecca exes AU part 4

post directory

[em note: this one is LONG i had to split it!!!]

obsetress: deflecting to viola protecting becs

obsetress: once they are dating

obsetress: and thinkin thoughts

em: viola asks rebecca if she wants to put a hit out on peter and rebestiecca is like????

em: that’s hot but

em: u can do that? also maybe don’t. but mostly that’s hot

obsetress: i was literally gonna say peter is still her ex and he's a persistent fucker even though it's been a year at least and viola's response is... not far off from canon!

obsetress: becca just stares at her for a minute and then she's cupping viola's cheek and murmuring "come here" and pulling her down

obsetress: they're like kissing or whatever and rebecca's murmuring "that was hot, you know" between kisses and viola's like "oh?" and becca's like "don't be cheeky, you know it was" and vi just grins against her mouth

em: I’m Really Invested In This Crack Ship

obsetress: ok but rebecca tells jamie and dani about vi offering to put a hit on peter and they're both understandably and reasonably aghast and rebecca's just like (takes a sip of wine, ducks head, smiles to self) i think it's sweet

obsetress: dani and jamie look at each other out of the corners of their eyes

obsetress: (later, dani agrees how absolutely out of line it is but also admits that it sure does feel nice to be so taken care of sometimes)

obsetress: (jamie throws a pillow at her)

obsetress: also thinking about secret soft vibecca are sometimes and how horrified dani and jamie are the first time they see it with their own eyes

em: jamie and dani excessive PDA queens get a taste of their own medicine

em: it’s so funny that i’m like. always on the verge of viola horny posting but as soon as it’s vibecca i’m like look at these babies. these beautiful babies

obsetress: viola and rebecca kissing one (1) time at brunch and jamie, arm slung around dani’s shoulders, is like “oi, no one wants to see that” and dani, leaning into jamie, one hand in her lap, crinkles her nose and rebecca’s like “y— you’re kidding, right?”

obsetress: also like. we talk a lot about what vi does for rebecca but also like

obsetress: vi massive abandonment issues and rebecca just

obsetress: she just stays

em: ur gonna Kill me here lies em

obsetress: i know i didn’t mean to and then i just

obsetress: i can’t think too hard abt them or i will Melt Down but just like

em: look if rebecca can see the best in someone as awful as peter

em: viola isnt nearly as terrible

obsetress: esp vi post dani like

obsetress: she’s obnoxious and haughty and neoliberal but

obsetress: radical love goes a long way!

obsetress: rebecca grounding her thru touch and rebecca slipping her hands around vi’s and easing them loose when vi’s hands start to clench and rebecca just pressing a kiss to viola’s temple and murmuring “i’m here, yeah? with you. not going anywhere”

em: like i just think after eddie dani wouldnt like, just go w the flw any more. like i think abt her challenging viola occasionally

em: lovingly! gently

but like, holding her accountable

em: also violas absolutely little spoon

em: like i know blah blah viola top rebecca top leaning switch but viola little spoon

obsetress: “actually viola” (vi always knows she’s in trouble when dani calls her viola) “that was really hurtful” “i’m sorry you feel that way, dani, but—“ “i don’t need you to be sorry for how i feel. i need you to show me you’re sorry for what you did”

em: dani calls vi the Full Name and viola knows shes in trouble bc thats at least 4 extra vowels w danis midwest accent

em: it is always v surprising how much like, working w kids equips you to work w adults. b/c at least w kids you dont have layers and layers of social nuance to work through. u can just say 'hey. that was hurtful and your apology sucks'

obsetress: meanwhile dani’s over here trying to explain to vi intent vs impact and how no, it’s not semantics or nuance, it’s actually kind of a chasm

em: i kind of love like um. look viola is terrible but she wasnt born terrible

obsetress: she just has a lot to unlearn

em: and id belive that even if i wasnt a ghostfucker thats just rogers theory of self actualisation babyeee

obsetress: dani viola big fight n dani's like

obsetress: "i'm sorry and i love you but it's not my job to fix you, vi" and she just breaks down and she's like "it's not"

obsetress: jesus why did my brain take THAT turn

em: wrow

em: its ok i was gonna be like 'so they obvs break up at some point....'

obsetress: anyway viola just stares at her for a second and then she's like "you put the 'i'm sorry' before the 'i love you'"

obsetress: and dani just stares at her for a long time and she's like "yeah. i guess i did"

em: HANNAH

em: BESTIE

obsetress: i KNOW what the FUCK

obsetress: anyway dani's like "i guess i did" and vi's like "is that it then?" and dani just looks at her with her puffy eyes and is like "i think so"

obsetress: dani clayton queen of saying "i love you" over and over in the midst of breaking up w someone

em: well! she has a lot of love to give but, she also has to love herself sometimes!

em: i was thinking abt scenarios n i just remembered that. whole video rental shop thing so i think that slots in nicely

[em edit: u can read here]

obsetress: god i love that lil scene

em: dani sends viola a tentative little meme peace offering and they get back to talking and its nice but maybe a bit awkward and viola mentions like, going to therapy and seeing someone for help n its

obsetress: vi's stewing on "i can't fix you" for weeks and then she's begrudgingly. BEGRUDGINGLY calling a therapist

em: like its still awkward and dani is still nursing some wounds but she can ALSO be happy for someone she used to care about

em: still cares about!

obsetress: she's always gonna love her in some way or another

obsetress: but yeah also like. smth to viola being too stubborn to do anything she doesn't wanna do except suddenly when dani clayton gets involved and that feels p canon in its own way too

em: 'i cant fix u' weird bc every time i see viola im like 'i can fix her'

obsetress: it's like ur in my head bestie

em: how do u think viola and rebestiecca met

em: not that u think abt it or anything

obsetress: MAN i was just thnking

obsetress: in this universe how did dani and jamie meet but i guess it can still just be bly tbh

obsetress: as for vi and bestiecca hmmm

em: am so caught up in the joy of fucked up interpersnal dynamics i forgot a meet cute

obsetress: honestly part of me wants to be like

obsetress: on some dating app but a dating app for posh people yk

obsetress: but then i'm like

obsetress: that takes all the meet cute fun out of it

obsetress: oh GOD

obsetress: i got it

obsetress: ready

obsetress: so like viola landlord we know this

obsetress: and then i was watching whatever ep three the other day and bex mentions wanting to do public law right

em: oooooh

obsetress: bex public housing attorney

em: OOH

obsetress: they meet at some conference

obsetress: hit it off prob fuck lbr

obsetress: and then

obsetress: comedy of errors

obsetress: whoever stays the night, they sleep together again in the morning, breakfast in bed, bex is like "so what do you do, anyway"

em: hjgbjshmdnfbmngbmhnbgs,hndg m,shndgds

em: YES

obsetress: and then they just

em: WHEEZES

obsetress: also i like to think rebecca invites vi back to her hotel room and vi is so charmed by her taking charge ("""taking charge""") that she lets her

obsetress: and then like

obsetress: god for a while what if they just like

obsetress: they're so mortified and morally and fundamentally at odds but like

obsetress: the sex is so good???????

obsetress: that they keep just meeting up and then

em: romeo and juliet situation

obsetress: yk how it goes

obsetress: the sex is good and they see each other as like

em: thats so fucking good thank u hannah

obsetress: super rare intellectual equals whatever

obsetress: thank u i am exceedingly proud rn

obsetress: honestly at this point i'm

obsetress: rebecca and vi uhaul change my mind

obsetress: like not too quick because isabel but, quick enough to be considered

em: so the joke is like. obviously 'extremely pda damie' but when rebecca and vi are alone they Also cannot get their hands off each other

obsetress: they both just. worry about appearances too much meanwhile

obsetress: tweedle dee and tweedle dum in the overalls and mom jeans dgaf

em: accidentally seeing ur friends compromised is just part of the package of being friends w damie. however jamie accidentally catches vibecca in the act and shes Horrified

em: hypocrits

em: danis like yeah what do u. think theyre doing

em: dani is nonchallant bc shes dated viola of all people

obsetress: i mean could you imagine

obsetress: between vi and dani's just

obsetress: insatiable libido

em: HADNT IMAGINED UNTIL NOW BUT YEAH

obsetress: dani, very seriously: jamie, when two women love each other––

em: dani likes dating jamie bc it means she can top occasionally :) maybe even more than occasionally

em: jamies like ooh my god i knw i know how are u so casual about... rebecca... and ... viola... (dani just pulls her in fr a smooch)

obsetress: they have each other's clothes half off and dani's like "i'm so casual because i dated her too, babe" and jamie's like "can we not have this conversation right n"

obsetress: also i still have this on my clipboard from earlier we bopped around so fast but

obsetress: vi and bex hooking up early on:

obsetress: rebecca knocks on vi's door at, like, 6:00 pm after work, vi opens it, rebecca just grabs her and kisses her, vi pulls her in, becca kicks it closed behind her, vi shoves her against the door and they're kissing against it, then vi's ducking her head to kiss along rebecca's neck and rebecca's like "how many people did you evict today" as she angles her head and then viola's finding her lips again and tugging at her lower lip with her teeth "probably not as many landlords as you shortchanged today" and rebecca's laughing and pushing her backwards down the hall as viola tugs at her blouse

em: GOD. viola is probably like

em: ok, disclaimer: fuck all landlords

em: but at least in this fantasy world perhaps viola is 'fairly' 'reasonable' n shes absolutely playing it up for the hate sex angle n rebecca Maybe Assumes shes lying but

em: stupid morons in love

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: i think i've mentioned this before but like

obsetress: now that it's more fleshed out

obsetress: then they're at drinks one night (and when did it go from just sex to drinks? neither of them could tell you) and viola's kinda quiet n moody (n rebecca already knows she Gets Like This sometimes and that she'll usually say whatever she's thinking eventually) and finally she's like

obsetress: "i have... a daughter" and rebecca's just like "tell me about her" like it's the easiest thing in the world

obsetress: and viola's head snaps over and she stares because she was.... not expecting that

obsetress: and so viola does

obsetress: and rebecca's just like "i'd love to meet her one day"

em: soft.....

obsetress: they always turn back to soft

obsetress: like they have a fuckin mind of their own

em: rapidly oscillate between horny and soft

obsetress: that's the mood

em: violas probably like. yknow, rebecca's young and up and cming n she probably assumes rebesticca isnt interested as something as full on as a kid but shes like 'do you have any photos'

obsetress: fuck!!!!!!!!!

em: rebeccas like do u think i didnt. see the photos at ur apartment lmao

em: theres a childs drawing on the fridge

obsetress: rebecca has known almost from the jump but was

obsetress: giving viola her time

obsetress: also smth smth giving her time instead of time wearing her away etc etc we're all in hell

em: cracks knuckles

em: bestie....

obsetress: pls

obsetress: it's what i deserve

obsetress: first tho

obsetress: consider

obsetress: the way viola's face lights up when she's talking about isabel and showing rebecca all the pictures

obsetress: hold pls

em: soft......

obsetress: this one chief

obsetress: right here

[hiyo-silver]

Untouchable - Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Summary:  The school holds a vigil for Eddie Kaspbrak despite most people having hardly knowing him. Patrick and Henry arrive only with ulterior motives, Bill Denbrough. Richie doesn't take kindly to the assault, it's their turn to go.

Chapters 1 2 3 4 + AO3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @abbeyglover @w-billiam

By the time that Bill makes it to math class, his last hour in school before he gets to escape to the comfort of his own home. No more time to sit here sweating and trying to hide his guilt. He sneaks a look at his phone from inside his sweatshirt pocket. The first thing that catches his eye is that Stan sent him a text relatively ten minutes ago. “Hang out tonight?” he’d asks. Bill chews his lip, he doesn’t know if he could stomach that. Hanging out for a night with someone who genuinely liked Eddie, at least it seemed so. They were close, and Bill would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen them get cozy, and even kiss on occasion. They were a couple, Bill doesn’t know if he can keep his mouth long enough with Stan.

He sighs and looks at his calculus worksheet, chewing his lip for a moment before looking back at the lit screen, pressing the home button with his thumb to unlock it. His thumbs dance anxiously over his keyboard on the conversation. He finally lets out another sigh and types out simply. “Sure, I’ll meet you at my locker after the final bell.” he presses send and swallows thickly before picking up his blue pen once again to finish the problem he was working on before. He finishes before everyone else, there’s a reason he’d almost skipped a grade. Maybe he should have. He could have narrowly missed the year of the undoing of Derry high school that is soon to come, it’s already starting to unravel like a ball of twine. Red twine. Like the kind they use on tv in detective shows to show evidence- fuck, Bill tells himself yet again. He doesn’t know how to stop the thoughts, he didn’t even do anything, only witnessed.

Time seems to move like molasses, more though Bill feels as if moving through life is like swimming through molasses. He has to push and push to keep going, he feels like he’s been holding his breath. He just wants to finally let go but he fears the entire story will come tumbling out with as simple as a sigh. The bell rings, cutting through his hazy mind and signalling his reaction by reflex to put away his things and sling his backpack of his shoulder. He has to provide himself with his next mission. Meet Stan at his locker, make it through an evening with Stan. Then, he can spill everything to his diary that he’s held in since the weekend. It feels as though it’s been weeks, he doesn’t know how killers do this, he doesn't understand how Richie can do this.

Richie. He’d almost forgotten. Richie is so tender with him, treating him lovingly as if he’s made of glass, that he must be protected. He wracks his brain for any answer to how Richie could do this at all. He said he’s never been caught, which means he’s done this before. The confusion leaves Bill near tears as he navigates the hallway. He knows well enough how much it hurts to lose someone to murder, Georgie. The young boy comes to mind, he’s surprised he hasn’t already. He can’t believe he’s been involved in this, causing this kind of mess to someone. He hates himself. He can almost hear Richie’s voice in his head though, “C’mon, Billy, you wouldn’t want to get caught, would you?” the voice whispers as he finds himself right up to Stan’s locker. He sucks in a fresh breath of air and smiles weakly for Stan.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Bill asks quietly, reaching his hand to rub Stan’s arm comfortingly. New mission, ignore his own feelings to help Stan, the other boy had obviously reached out to him for a reason. Of course he’s hurting, Bill is only being selfish. Bill Denbrough has a habit of ignoring his own problems, he probably will never admit out loud that he’s truly been traumatized. He didn’t instigate the murder, he never told Richie to do it, he didn’t want to be involved even after it happened. Everything he’d done there had been completely for the sake of covering their tracks.

Stan stays quiet, his eyes trained on the floor, his face pale but calm. He seems to still be in shock, he’s not feeling it completely yet, it’s truly a blessing to not be any further through the stages of grief. Soon he’ll be crying and falling apart and blaming others and then blaming himself. Bill can’t imagine how hard it will be for Stan. From what he knows, not only were Stan and Eddie secretly together, but Stan has never lost someone this way. He’s never been to a funeral of someone he’d actually known, only random second cousins and distant relatives several times removed. It may have been easier if Eddie hadn’t always been so tender with him. The way Richie is so tender with Bill. Richie is no saint, it’s coming to view finally now that Bill lets it sink it, Eddie wasn’t either. At least Eddie hadn’t been a killer.

“I’m- alright,” Stan says softly, holding his books closer to his chest, adjusting them so he can keep them up in his arms as they’d been slipping. “It’s just so sudden. I didn’t know he’d been so sad, I wish he would have let me help,” Stan says, still keeping his eyes aimed at the tile of the hallway, licking his lips compulsively. He’d obviously been crying the night before, his lips were more chapped than Bill has ever seen them, Stan is a religious moisturizer and keeps himself hydrated. The normal Stan wouldn’t dare stand to be in this state, especially in public.

“You wanna go to your house? Or mine? Or anywhere, I really don’t mind,” Bill offers, his voice soft and soothing as usual when he talks to people he wants to comfort. He’s always been really good at that. It’s one of the reasons he and Ben had gotten along so well. Ben, oh how Bill longs to go back to him, back to normal. He wants to rewind the world he’s living in back to September first of 2018 and sit down at the lunch table and joke about the new romantic comedies on Netflix despite the fact that they would watch these later that night and cry and laugh openly.

“There’s actually going to be a candlelight vigil tonight at the park, for Eds y’know,” Stan says in his normal mumbling tone, seeming even more bittersweet. It’s even more a wake up call that Eddie is really gone for him. “I was thinking you would go with me, I’m not sure if Bev is going, and us two are friends, y’know?” Stan goes on, not finding the courage for his hazel eyes to meet Bill’s concerned blue ones yet.

“Yeah, of course we can go, I’ll drive.” Eddie always drove. Eddie had a hotter car than Bill had, it was safer and cleaner and flashier, one of Eddie’s prized possessions. It feels almost wrong of Bill to offer to, but he knows that Stan doesn’t drive and doesn’t have a car of his own. Stan simply nods, “We can hang out at my house until the sun goes down when it’s time to go, I won’t let us be late,” Bill promises, reaching to link his arm with Stan’s.

“Thank you, Bill,” Stan says with a sure nod, finally letting his eyes meet Bill’s. He finally seems to be calming, his shoulders relaxing and his face staying soothed. They walk outside to Bill’s car, dropping their bags in the back seat and sitting up in the front, chuckling slightly as the car groans and wheezes to a slow start. It’s always a gamble of it the car will work again this time, but they get lucky enough to pull out of the parking spot and out onto the road on the way to the Denbrough residence.

The two plop themselves on the couch in the living room, watching various cartoons on the television. It was a measured plan on Bill’s part, watching tv meant he wouldn’t have to talk, knowing how little Stan talks unprompted, and Bill knows he wouldn’t know what to talk about, the death still plaguing his mind in a thick black fog that leaves him unable to do anything else. He wants nothing but to forget completely.

Finally, the time comes when the sun has gone down and it’s time to go back to the car and drive down to the park for the vigil. Bill eyes the clock and looks back at Stan before picking up the remote and shutting the tv off, “Hey, we should probably get going,” he says in a hushed voice to Stan. “Eddie always liked being on time,” he says with a weak smile, wanting to help lighten the situation.

“Yeah, he’d kill us if we were late to this,” Stan says with a small grin of his own, sitting up before pushing himself all the way to his feet. Bill mirrors the same, the two of them linking their arms together again, locking the front door behind them. The drive to the park is uncomfortably quiet. Stan has known Eddie as long as he can remember, Bill has only come into their lives this year.

As they step out of the car, the air is as cold and unforgiving as the cup of poisoned gatorade Eddie had downed merely days ago. Eddie may not have been the best person, but it almost seems that the weather dropped nearer to winter temperatures since he’s been gone. Bill and Stan huddle deeper into their coats, pulling their arms over their chests to hold their warmth in. They join the small group in the grass, being offered the most pitiful expressions they have to date. At least Stan, Bill knows those looks. The same from the funeral of one Georgie Denbrough.

They’re handed small tea candles, having them lit by a match. They’re surprised to find that this has all been organized by Mike Hanlon. Mike never knew Eddie well, but at least Eddie’s taunts for him never included his skin color. Eddie believed in equality, he’s treat almost everyone as bad as everyone else, simply a complex of feeling more important. His mindset stemmed from traumatic experiences, not much different than Richie’s mindset, but Richie is far too gone. Eddie would never get worse, or better. His potential for improvement was robbed from him. Mike put this together because he knew nobody else would. Not many people were fond enough of Eddie, and the few who are were too close to him to be in the right mind to do this for him.

“Thank you,” Bill says as Mike lights the candle cupped in between his hands. He holds it gently and looks at the flickering flame. He’s never noticed before that the fire can be a metaphor for life. It can flicker and die out with a simple breeze, or it can roar with a violent passion, destroying everything that comes in it’s past. Eddie’s flame had been blown out, and Richie’s was thriving under the exact circumstances.

Stan looks down at his own candle, maybe thinking the same, of course without the metaphor to Richie, or even knowing that Eddie’s death was any more than a suicide. Bill can’t get over the fact, Eddie Kaspbrak has been murdered, and the sole part he had in the murder was making everyone believe it wasn’t a murder. It’s nothing less than an offense on the life Eddie had lived.

A few people step up and speak sweet words, Bill can debunk every one of them. None of these people really liked Eddie personally or otherwise. It’s all bullshit, they’re making grieving trendy, something they all need to do to continue to fit in to any status quo and not be seen as a monster simply for resenting someone who treated them badly. Everyone is so insincere. He doesn’t hear a testimony true to how someone actually saw the popular boy. That was when Stanley Uris pulled out enough courage to stand in front of the crowd and speak in a shaking voice.

“I’m Stan, as you guys know, Eddie and I were close,” he says before taking a gasping breath between statements. “He and I were together, I never knew he wasn’t happy, I didn’t know how much he was hurting. And I do blame myself for that,” he continues with a sniffle. “When I heard the news I cried because the description of the scene sounded like one from a horror movie, like how you feel when you see something like that on the news but someone telling you in real life. I was numb after that, it doesn’t feel real. Until I was here now,” he says with a near silent sob, “With all these people listening, it just felt like he was staying home from school. I know he wasn’t always kind to you guys and-” he takes another breath, “I want to apologize on his behalf, he didn’t mean it, truly, I promise that,” Stan finishes, deciding he can’t go on any more with how much his voice quivers with the tears he’s holding back.

Stan finally stands down from the spot, dispersing back to his spot with Bill among the others. He hopes he made the right choice, he doesn’t want backlash, and he doesn’t want to hear anything more negative about his late boyfriend, it’s disrespect for the dead which is just as bad as the fact they speak badly of the one he loved. He knows Eddie was no saint, but the boy wasn’t evil either, and he didn’t deserve the fate that came to him. Nobody deserve to be so trapped in their own mind that they take their own life, nobody deserves to scream so fucking loudly that nobody can hear them. He’d probably been screaming so long that he lost his voice, couldn’t keep it up.

Bill feels someone bump their arm against his and stay there, trying to lace their fingers with his. He half expects to turn around and see Richie Tozier also at the vigil for the boy they killed, but it ends up being someone who makes Bill do a double take, pulling away quickly. Patrick Hocksetter, probably one of his least favorite people. The kid has bullied him since kindergarten and only tolerates him now because of who he hangs out with, it’s gross.

“Got an issue, William? Your little boyfriend isn’t here, pretty boy,” the other man teases, trying to grab for Bill’s hand like the sleazy asshole he is. Bill yanks his hand back again, more force this time now that Richie is brought up. Richie may not be the best or the best influence, but Bill Denbrough has no interest in being unfaithful to him.

“I’m not a cheater,” Bill says assuredly to the bully, his eyebrows set in a position of dominance, as if he’s taller and more powerful than the kid he hears walks around with a makeshift flamethrower, a lighter and hairspray. Bill will have to remember that. He doesn’t know how to keep himself civil, murder on his mind and pulling his strings until he’s on edge enough to snap.

“C’mon, buddy, he doesn’t need to know, a good guy is only a bad guy who hasn’t been caught,” Patrick purrs, pushing them out of the circle and closer to the forest. Bill doesn’t know how everyone else doesn’t notice, he feels vulnerable. The scene he sees over Patrick’s shoulder just looks like fire, not candles, not people, only golden flames that leave an awful burning smell with the floating embers.

That all is, until a groan escapes his harasser, a shove had come to him at the hands of none other than Richie, the “boyfriend who wouldn’t have to know.” “Tell me why your grubby hands were on my boyfriend’s waist?” Richie asks in a tone that just begs Patrick to test him.

“What about it, psycho?” Patrick hisses, stepping back swiftly to escape any other attacks from the infatuated man. Infatuated, that’s the word to describe it. Richie can’t take his eyes off of Bill half the time, he can’t bear to be apart from him. He needs him, he’ll simply die without him right there next to him.

“Keep your hands off of him if you know what’s good for you, Cocksetter,” Richie says, his tone one that nobody in their right mind would want to reckon with. Bill, however, isn’t in his right mind, though he wants only to do positive things with this man, wanting to just go back to Richie’s and make him his again.

Patrick finally backs away, going back to the crowd only to escape Richie, obviously not in his right mind himself, but he knows well enough to stay away.

-

After the vigil, Bill and Richie end up in Bill’s car, Stan had gotten a ride with someone else, realizing how shaken Bill is from what happened with Patrick, and Stan knows well enough how it feels, the Bowers gang has always been pretty awful to him, but Henry and Patrick are the worst.

Richie sits in the passenger side, his cigarette smoke floating off the tip out the window in curling ribbons as the nicotine calms him. Bill can’t resist the look on Richie’s face, he can’t resist Richie’s face, period. He climbs over the space between their seats, settling in Richie’s lap, straddling his legs over his thighs, dipping his body down to meet his lips to Richie’s. He can taste the smoke in lips and lingering on his tongue.

Richie catches Bill’s lips in his own hungrily, his hands gripping tightly at Bill’s sides, he’s always in the mood for a good makeout session. Suddenly his eyes pop open, his lips cease to keep moving, Bill pulling away sensually with a doe look in his eyes, wanting to go right back to what he was doing.

“I have an idea, lovely,” Richie purrs, running his hands up and down Bill’s sides in a way that makes the boy shiver with pleasure, “For us to get back at Patrick and Henry,” Richie adds, seeing Bill’s expression shift to one of interest, listening closely. “We can prank them, expose them for how they really are,” Richie smirks, pulling the idea together in his head, compiling how he will have to describe it to Bill, he’s unsure if Bill will trust him anymore.

-

The night comes and goes, the boys had returned to their acts in the car. Bill can says he’s really broken in his car now, and he’d say it with a smirk and then an awkward laugh. “They’re called que no es de fiar aparentar bullets, got them at a prank store,” Richie says, hiding his lie smoothly behind a buttery false Spanish accent.

“So they’re fake?” Bill asks, a confused expression on his face, his big blue puppy dog eyes bringing Richie in further to him until they are touching again.

“Completely false, gonna knock the boys unconscious, we’ll just leave them naked for the police to find before they come to, they’ll be the laugh of the school now,” Richie smiles. “They deserve it,” he reminds him softly, brushing his thumb against Bill’s cheek.

Bill nods back hesitantly. He’s always been one for revenge, but he doesn’t know about this. Patrick and Henry have always terrorized him, he’s still scared of them. He almost feels like this will make him feel like he has too much power. He knows what power does to people, it’s almost never a good result. He takes the loaded gun from Richie’s hand, letting his finger run over the trigger, a shiver running down his spine. He doesn’t know if this feels extremely right or extremely wrong, but it feels like something that threatens to take him over. “They should be here soon, I called them a bit ago,” he says solemnly.

Richie nods back, taking his own identical weapon in his hands, holding it like he has before, the adrenaline is always the same. He almost craves it, but he’s learned to control it more when he’s on his own, but around Bill, oh he feels powerful. It’s his duty now, he has to protect this man. Even if that means bloodshed, the world is too full of corrupt people anyways, he justifies to himself as he starts to walk away. Orange leaves crunch beneath his shoes as he walks through the woods, fidgeting from all his restless energy.

He watches as the two boys approach Bill with their usual confident gait. It only makes him smirk to himself, they wouldn’t be so confident for so long. He watches Bill in his acting, flirting with them and then having them strip down, standing apart, then he watches Bill’s gaze flicker to his direction and he knows it’s go time.

He aims the weapon, he pulls the trigger. It hits Henry as he expected it to, he watches the bullet leave Bill’s gun and narrowly miss Patrick. Shit. he takes it upon himself immediately to take over that job too, getting Patrick just as he tries to get away. He feels the same adrenaline as he had with Eddie before but softens when he hears a scream come from no other than Bill.

“Richie- are they supposed to bleed this much? Are they- are they dead?” Bill asks, looking and sounding on the verge of tears as his voice wavers, wrapping his arms around Richie as soon as he approaches him, hiding his face in Richie’s chest.

“Calm down, baby, just another evil defeated,” Richie purrs, running his hands through Bill’s hair tenderly, “We should get going, don’t wanna get caught, do we?” he says, pulling away and grabbing Bill’s cold hand in his own.

It’s only now that Bill realizes exactly how crazy Richie might be, tears streaming down his own face, he can’t do this any longer. He can’t keep being so violent. He can’t mess up himself and his future so badly. He’s only hardly grown up, freshly eighteen and with so much ahead of him. He needs to put an end to this.