#i love these dead boys so much and i will not accept any hate towards them

[sweaters-and-vertigo]

snobby piltover councilors: our wealthy friends are scared!!! theSE CULPRITS MUST BE CAUGHT!!!!!!

the culprits in question:

[writtenfromhawkins]

hoax.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: when his father lets him know his presence is expected at a company dinner party, steve blurts out he’d be taking his girlfriend. the problem? he’s very single. now stuck in a lie, he goes to you for help.

word count: 2.7k.

warnings: lots of pining, some curse words, mentions of migraines, steve’s dad sucks. 

authors note: cliché, but i am simply a slut for the fake dating trope.

part two

let’s fall in love for the night.

“Are you fucking insane?”

“Come on sweetheart,” he begs, reaching over the counter to grab ahold of your hands, his gaze never faltering. “I can’t go alone.”

“You could,” you point out, wiggling out of his grasp, “if you just told the truth. “

"I’m already the loser son with a dead-end job.” Steve waves his arms around, motioning to the racks of videos in the dingy store as if to say see? “I can’t be the loser son with a dead-end job and no date.”

And just like that you falter, any arguments—and you have many—die before they can leave your lips. You hate that your good, kind, funny, absolutely incredible friend felt like anything but. You’d never verbalize it but you despised his father for being the only one capable of bringing that side out of him, turning him from the man you admired into the needy, desperate-for-acceptance and attention boy you barely remembered from high school. 

“If I go...”

It’s a hypothetical, not a real answer but still, your words inflate him. He stands up straight, shoulders back, handsome features pulling into a grin.

“Steve...”

Before you can react, he’s up and sliding his long body across the counter. “Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, coming to a stop in front of you. Big hands reach out, grabbing ahold of each side of your face to pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead. “You are an angel, a goddess really, heaven sent.”

If his praise warms you, his lips set you on fire, just enough to make your brain go fuzzy and have you ready to agree to whatever he wants but you stop yourself, doing your best to hold on to some semblance of self-control. 

This is your friend, one of your closest, and one you maybe have some confusing feelings towards. You don’t like-like him, no way. But, yeah, your heart would beat just a little faster when you saw him and, sure, when he’d touch you—God, was he affectionate—sometimes you’d get butterflies. He was also your ultimate confidant, the one you could complain to about your parents or rant to about your latest shit date. He was a safe place, a non-judgmental ear, someone you could always rely on. Again, confusing.

You worry the ruse he was suggesting would run the risk of crossing a metaphorical line, something you may not be able to come back from.

“Steve,” you say again, hoping to grab his attention, “Stevie, that wasn’t a yes.” His smile falls and you resist the urge to backtrack. “I was trying to ask what we’d be doing. Like... if I agree, what am I actually agreeing to?”

Just like that, he perks up again because you are considering it. That’s progress and he’s grateful; you were the only person he felt comfortable enough asking. Robin would just laugh at him, he could hear it now—like anyone would believe that, dingus, she’d say before bursting into giggles. Nancy was complicated, came along with too much baggage and too many hurt feelings. But you? With your kind eyes and warm demeanor, he felt like he could go to you for anything.

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Steve assures you, desperate for you to believe him. “I’ll make up some excuse so we can just meet my parents there. We won’t even have to deal with them that long. Really. I’d just need you to tolerate them for dinner and, uh, you know... act like you like me.” He throws it out there like it’s nothing, like the thought of that doesn’t make him feel some type of way. “You can wear a pretty dress and get a nice meal out of it. And, I swear, I’ll owe you big time.”

You’re quiet, pretending to consider the proposition—as if you could ever say no to him. “Can we get ice cream after?”

With no warning, he’s reaching out for you again, pulling you into an embrace. “Whatever you want.” He means it too.

—

When Steve shows up at your door a week later, you can barely contain your relief when you see officially that you two match. Well enough anyway. Getting outfit details out of the man had been akin to getting teeth pulled—long and painful.

“What’re you wearing?” You’d asked one night, phone cradled between your ear and shoulder, cord fully extended as you dug through your closet.

“Uh... jeans and a t-shirt?” His answer had come out like a question.

“What?” You’d laughed. “Not right now, Steve. I meant for the dinner.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t see it, but he slapped his forehead, face flushed. “Right, yeah. Duh. It’s supposed to be fancy so like... a suit and tie.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Black,” you’d repeated.

“Is that bad?” Steve’s voice betrayed him, he sounded panicked.

“No, no!” You were quick to reassure him. “That’s classic. What color shirt?”

“Blue.”

You paused, waiting for further details that don’t come. “What kind of blue?”

Steve scoffed. “What do you mean what kind of blue? Blue is blue.” 

“It’s really not,” you pointed out, arms crossing. “Is it dark or light?”

“Why does this even matter?” He didn’t mean to be short with you. Really, he didn’t. But anything involving his dad was enough to set him on edge. An already short fuse combined with genuine confusion didn’t make for the moment peasant conversation.

“So we can match. We’re supposed to look like a couple, right?” You chose to ignore his tone for the sake of keeping the peace.

Like a couple. “Oh,” he breathed. “Right, sorry. It’s dark.”

You’re about to ask if he meant more midnight blue or something a tad lighter but you stop yourself. No point, you could make that work. 

And you did. The little number you’d picked out was navy, slinky, and fell to mid-thigh. With enough skin exposed to keep it interesting but just conservative enough to satisfy the stuffy businessmen you’d surely encounter. 

“Hey,” you greet him, leaning against the door frame. You try to stop yourself but your eyes travel, taking in the perfectly coiffed hair, the broad shoulders, and the snug slacks. He cleaned up well.  

The one imperfection—if you could even consider it that—is the loose tie hanging around his neck. He catches your gaze and lets out a dejected sigh. “Couldn’t get the damn thing tied and didn’t wanna ask my dad. Do you think...?” He trails off, sheepish.

You soften at the admission, happy to help with whatever he needed. “Of course,” you answer, stepping aside. “Come in. I gotta grab my purse anyway.”

He steps cautiously inside, taking the opportunity while you were busy to fully appreciate your attire. “I shoulda said it as soon you opened the door but you look incredible.” You were always beautiful, that was something he realized ages ago, but to see you dolled up for him was something new, something he thought he could get used to. “I’m gonna have the prettiest fake date there.”

You can’t help it, you preen at his praise. You were doing this for him, after all. You wanted him to be pleased, to think you looked nice. With your back to him, you’re able to hide just how much an effect those words have on you as you grab your back from an end table and slip the strap up your bare shoulder.

“Alright,” you say as you approach him, coming to a stop right in front of him, the toe of your heels just barely touching his Oxfords. 

Almost hesitantly you reach out, hands taking hold of each end of the tie. It’s pretty, you decide. Navy with light blue and white flowers. You’re rusty but still, with minimal fumbling, you’re able to get a passable Windsor done. Carefully you tighten the knot, knuckles grazing his Adam's apple before your hands lower, smoothing the fabric down his chest to his sternum.

You hope he can’t tell your hands are shaking, he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. 

Satisfied, you take a step back, eyeing your work. “Looks pretty good to me.”

He nods in agreement. “S’perfect, sweetheart. Thank you.” A silence falls over you for a moment, it’s comfortable and nice, but Steve has to break it. “Ready to go?”

When you give the affirmative, he offers you his arm. You take it and soon he’s leading you out of your house to his BMW, opening the passenger side and getting you safely in the car before rushing around the other side, joining you. 

—

When you pull up outside the banquet hall, Steve is quiet. Tentatively you glance over at him. Both hands are gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. You want to ask if he’s okay but before you can, he’s looking back at you, smiling although it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s do this.” He doesn’t sound excited.

Steve is out of the car and making his way to your door before you even have your seatbelt undone. You thank him when he opens it, pulling the hem of your dress from where it’d ridden up on your thighs. His eyes follow your movements.

“Before we go in there, I just want you to know we can leave anytime, okay?” You’re doing him a favor, a major one, and he doesn’t want you uncomfortable, doesn’t want you in a bad situation just for his benefit.

You almost laugh, figuring that he’s being just a little dramatic but you refrain. “It’s just dinner, Steve. I promise I’ll be okay.”

He wants to point out you’ve never actually met either of his parents, making you woefully unprepared for what the night would entail. He wants to warn you, to protect you, but then you’re taking his hand in yours and any concern is forgotten.

—

That’s how you walked into the event: fingers interlaced, whispering to each other and Steve despised himself for how much he was enjoying it. You were his friend—strictly platonic. It should have felt weird or uncomfortable, but it didn’t. On the contrary, it felt nice, natural and he was hoping his parents wouldn’t see him, that he could keep the night just the two of you.

Those hopes are quickly dashed when his father, from across the fucking room, bellows out his name, waving. Steve can tell right then and there he’d been drinking and all he wants to do is turn you around and take you home but instead, he leads you right into the lion’s den. 

He regrets it but it’s too late. “Mom, dad, this is...”

He doesn’t even get the chance to introduce you. His mother is squealing your name—he’s surprised she even remembers it—and is wrapping you in an embrace. It’s stiff, incredibly insincere and you don’t like it, but you smile anyway.

When she dropped her arms, you step back so you’re pressed tightly against Steve, his hand finding the small of your back. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh,” his father breathes, “it’s nice to meet you too. We didn’t even think you existed, isn’t that right, honey?”

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Harrington almost looks apologetic. “We’ve just never seen you around the house.”

Steve grits his teeth, the irony in the comment not going unnoticed. They were never home enough to know what he had going on. 

“More like we didn’t think a girlfriend could fit his ice cream shop budget.” He says it like it’s supposed to be funny. No one laughs.

“I don’t work at Scoops anymore, dad.” Steve sounds contrite when he reminds his father, but the older man simply waves him off.

You tug on Steve’s suit jacket, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Well, you have nothing to worry about, I’ve never been treated better. You really raised a perfect gentleman, you should be proud.” And they should. They ended up with an incredible son even if they did little to form him into the man he was now.

“I guess he was bound to inherit something from me.” Yeah, right. “So, what do you do? Steve said something about college?”

“Well, I bartend part-time at The Hideout.” You say it like either of the elder Harringtons would have heard of the shithole but they’re definitely not your usual clientele. “It’s a little bar on the other side of town. But yeah, I’m in school right now. I’m majoring in Early Childhood Education at Purdue.” 

He whistles like he’s impressed. “A teacher, huh? An actual career.” He’s talking to you but he’s looking at Steve,

Your eyes narrow and you open your mouth, desperate to put him in his place, but Steve speaks before you get the chance. “Yup,” he agrees, “she’s brilliant. All future little gremlins are very lucky.”

You’re tense, frustrated by Steve’s father and the way he jumps at any opportunity to cut Steve down, but you allow yourself to be temporarily distracted. You could tell he meant what he was saying and it meant a lot to you.

“Oh, babe,” you turned to look at Steve, practically beaming at him. You catch the way he flushes at the pet name—a bold move for you, something you normally didn’t use but, hey, you were trying to sell it. “Thank you.” You turn your gaze back to his parents. “He’s so supportive.”

“He should be,” Mr. Harrington pipes up. “If he’s not gonna have a real job—”

Okay, that was enough.

“Hey—”

“Sweetheart,” Steve interjects, already knowing what is coming, “is your head feeling any better?”

You blink, totally caught off guard. What the hell was he talking about?

“Oh?” says Mrs. Harrington. “Are you not feeling well?”

“She gets these awful migraines,” Steve answers for you, just blatantly lying now. “Had one all day today.” He tsks as his hand moves from your back to your temple, fingers massaging soothing circles into the flesh. “I tried to get her to stay home but she was so excited to meet you guys. Nothing could have kept her away.”

“That’s so nice.” Her tone doesn’t suggest she actually thinks of it as nice, but she still presses a hand to her chest, feigning sincerity. “We couldn’t wait to meet you either, not after the way Steve talked about you.” The boy in question bristles at the comment, silently begging his mother not to reveal what he had actually said. “But if you’re unwell, you should really get some rest.”

“You are so right, mom,” Steve agrees readily, arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, baby, but we should go.”

“Oh,” you say, back of your hand rising to rest against your forehead, “I guess you’re right.” You’re eager to go now, but do your best to sound reluctant, sad. “I’m so sorry we can’t stay for dinner.”

The goodbyes are brief and hurried, you have to resist the urge to run out the door, only fully relaxing once you and Steve are safely outside. “God, Steve,” you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re really awful.”

He can’t help it, he laughs. “I really should have warned you, huh?”

“Your father, I just...” You trail off, unable to even put it into words.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You were great in there, by the way.” He would be forever in your debt, you saved him from monumental embarrassment. “It’s still kinda early, I think I can get us in at Enzo’s. You know, if you want.”

Your nose scrunches up and you shake your head. “Let’s just go get ice cream.”

“No way,” he protests. “You need actual food.” A lecture you’d received from Steve more times than you could count. He was always making sure you ate, that you were hydrated, that you slept well.

It was nice to be looked after but that was not what you were after now.

“You said anything I want...”

How could he argue with his own words?

“I guess I did, huh? Let’s get you that ice cream then, pretty girl. You definitely earned it.”

Maybe tomorrow after the soft touches, the pet names and the kind words things would be awkward. Maybe your concerns were valid and a line had actually been crossed, maybe things would be different. But that was a problem for another day.

For now, you were keen to sit with your friend in your fancy clothes, hip-to-hip enjoying two scoops of mint chocolate chip.

—

[geminimoonbeamx]

She’s Got Bette Davis Eyes

A/N: I'm going to be real; I miss Steve’s loser in a sailor uniform era. I’m not sure how I feel about the return of King Steve but well. Don't even get me started how much I hated the forced throat fucking that is the Duffers trying to make Stancy a thing again. Despite all that, I’m happy to have our baby boy back. 

Warnings: Smut. Road Head. Steve getting his shit verbally rocked. 

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Steve Harrington has been on like, a hundred shitty dates this month alone. He really doesn't expect his date with you to be any different. 

The movie the two of you had gone to see was garbage. Zombiethon. Literally as horrible as it sounds, you’d pushed for that new Demi Moore flick but Steve had become a bit of a movie connoisseur since working at the Family Video.

A bit of a douche too, but then like. Hadn't he always been one?  You’re contemplating why you’d accepted the date at all while he pokes at his coke float with a straw. The diner is in full rage, loud enough that it drowns out any chance of conversation- 

Steve’s corny pick up lines are lost to the hustle and bustle, drowned out by the jukebox and old team mates coming up to pay homage to the former King of Hawkins High himself. 

You’d gotten ready for this. Like, really. Taken hours primping and priming. Your hair fell, practiced and shiny. Your lip gloss gleamed in the light. The denim skirt you wore was just on the right side of slutty. This worked for you, with guys- always. And still, it seemed like Steve wanted to be anywhere but sitting across the table from you- 

And you? Yeah, you’re taking that pretty personally. 

If he thinks he’s going to get a kiss at the door and a second date after this he’s dead wrong. 

You let him ramble, about his dumb job and his dumb hair and his weekend trip to Indianapolis a month ago. All the while smiling, nodding, giving a quip and taking the cues. 

You're more than happy when the check comes in the form of the older woman with a smokers cough. You're pulling out your purse before she’s even dropped it on the table. 

“No, no, no. I invited you out, It’s my treat-” he pats at his pockets. 

You ignore him, pulling the crisp twenty out of your wallet and handing it to the woman. Nora, her name tag reads. “Here you go, keep the change” 

She smiles at you, before turning sharp eyes to Steve, muttering about how all the real men died in Nam’.  

Your pounding pavement towards his car. Funny, all throughout high school you’d yearned to ride passenger in the maroon BMW, and now you weren't too sure you wanted to get in it at all. It wasn't that much of a walk, back you your house- why had you chosen these tall ass wedges?

“I had that tab, back there. You didn’t have to-” Steve starts the engine, sounding uneasy and unsure for the first time tonight and hah. Good. Misery loves company, and you’re the petty bitch that will enforce the fact. 

“You snooze you lose” 

“Uh-” He makes a face, confused as you play with his radio. If he wants to be a dick fine, but you refuse to do another awkward car ride filled with his shitty taste in music. Megadeth it is. 

Your house is just outside of town, at least a thirty minute ride. 

At five minutes in you decide what the hell. You turn the knob, metal fading  “Quick quesh, why did you ask me out if you’re obviously not interested in dating anyone?”

“What? That’s not true. I date, all the time-” 

“Ah, so just not interested in dating me. Like in particular” 

“No, I wouldn't have asked you out if I wasnt interested in you. Dating you. Dating anyone” 

“Can I share my theory with you? I mean I did let you explain the entire synopsis of Casablanca back there so like, my turn” You get comfortable in the leather seat, wiggling so that you're leaning bag against the door, directly facing him. He’s cute, that dumb little look on his face. The confused nod. 

“So you haven't really been with anyone since Nancy Wheeler- 

“Not true” 

“Yeah you’ve dated like half the girls in this town. But boyfriend, girlfriend? Not since Wheeler. Suspicious? Kind of” 

“It’s not suspicious, I just haven't been with anyone that I wanted to take that next step with” Steve defends himself, bristling a little bit. Fuck if your going to let this go. Who cares if he’s uncomfortable? This is the most fun you’ve had all night. 

“Sure. It’s okay, I’ve done the hung up on the ex thing too- like for years. I just wish you would’ve told me” you shrug 

“Told you what exactly?” 

“That you weren't on the market for anything other than…physical relationships” you pick your brain for the right words. 

His mouth gapes, open, snaps closed. Nose scrunches and well. “That's not something I really go around just advertising. Girls aren't into that” 

“Aren't they?”’

“Are you?” He rebuts, doubtful. Hopeful, but mostly doubtful.  

Bingo. Right on the money.

You bite your cheek, trying to contain your grin as you reach over the console, your hand on Steves denim clad thigh “I think as human beings, it’s kind of fucked up to deprive ourselves of touch. It’s one of the five main senses and all that. I mean, so you don't want to get married...that doesn't mean you can't get your dick wet” 

Steve hisses as your fingers drag, right over his fly. “Y/N”-

“Shh, just keep driving. Don't you wanna have a little fun?” you massage his bulge and reach over, because fuck it. You're in this deep already. Rejection would sting but this date had already been horrible. 

You aim for his stubbled cheek, but he turns his head last minute, his plump lips meeting yours. Fuck, this is the good stuff. The legendary stuff. High School mythology etched on the walls of the girls bathroom, whispered in reverence between friends. Steve tastes like mint, feels like sunshine. Uses the perfect amount of tongue. 

You pull away after a moment. “Eyes on the road, hot stuff”

Now why did he take you to the worst movie of all time, when the two of you could’ve been doing this all night? Boys are so stupid. Even pretty rich ones with good hair. 

You nose behind his ear, drag your lips down his throat as your fingers begin to work on his zipper, giggling when he swallows roughly. 

“All this fun’s gonna get us killed” 

“Come on, you're a great driver. Just focus, okay” you pull away, and his head leans, following without his permission. “Or do you want me to stop?” 

You spear your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at him with big bright eyes. The shadows of your eyelashes dancing in the passing streetlights. 

“That's killer, you know that? Not fair at all. If we end up in a ditch, it’s all your fault” He sighs, concedes, reaches down to lean his seat back. 

“You worry too much. But wouldn't that be kind of rad? Death by road head. We’d have the coolest gravestones ever” You whisper wetly into his ear, tugging on the lobe with your lips. 

He just shakes his head. 

Turns out a thirty minute drive is more then enough to make Steve Harrington turn into a puddle of goo. His chest heaves and he white knuckles the steering wheel as you work him over. 

It’s sloppy and crude, the squelching and gagging echoing around the car. His thighs shake and it takes everything to keep his eyes from crossing. He sneaks a peak, down at your bobbing head, at the way that your’e putting your all into it. Those little hurt sounds you keep making when the fat head catches the back of your throat, just right. He snaps his hips up, cruel. Needing to hear it just a little bit louder as you struggle. 

He can’t do this. 

“Y/N- fuck. Ease up-” 

You double down. 

Elm Drive 

He makes a wide swerve of a turn before stomping on the breaks. Your house is just down at the end of the block. 

When he comes , with a shout and his fistful of your hair, it's blinding. He feels like he’s been sucker punched in the gut, before his spine turns to liquid. 

He’s wrecked. 

And you? You’re fine. Just peachy as you pull off with a pop. Spit and cum smeared across the bottom of your face. He accepts the little peck you give him eagerly. 

You’re wiping your face clean, reapplying your lip gloss and dabbing at the corners of your teary, mascara smudged eyes as Steve tries to come back down to earth, his chest still heaving embarrassingly when you seem so…composed. 

He inches down the street, feeling a little high. He probably shouldn't be driving right now- 

When he pulls in front of your house, porch light on and quaint, you instantly grab your bag. Ready to go. 

“So I’ll um- call you? We should hang out again. Soon? Preferably” 

You throw your head back and laugh, almost meanly “That’s going to be a no from me. This was the worst date I’ve ever been on. Like ever. Lose my number, Harrington” 

You’re out of the car before he can wrap his head fully around what you’d said. No? What? The passenger door slams. 

He’s pretty sure you’re going to leave him high and dry- take the steps up to the porch and call it a night. Instead, you freeze, contemplating for a moment. Your eyes scan the street, peeled for any sign of your neighbors before your wiggling your thick thighs, reaching up under your skirt. 

“Something to think about. If you ever decide that you want to…take that next step” You grin leaning into his driver side window. Handing him the pair of baby blue panties. Still warm. Very much wet. 

Steve poor dick jumps. “I’ll take it into consideration” 

He can’t help but grin. That stupid look on his face the entire time he watches you walk the path, shut your front door behind you. 

Steve had taken out no less than a dozen girls in the last few months, everyone leaving him feeling more unsatisfied than the last. He looks at the blue lacy fabric in his hands, and thinks yeah. 

He’s pretty sure he owes you a second date. 

Welp. This was filthy. If you're interested in reading a part two of this, let me know! I think these two could be really fun. Also, food for thought. My ask box is open. 

[kiritella]

Series: Sehnsucht, Chapter Eight: Retribution

Pairings: Geralt x Teen!Reader, Yennefer x Teen!Reader

Warnings: !!! death, child death !!! Fire, toxic parents? Burns. mentions of abuse, torture, murder.

Words: 4.7k

--------------------------

She should have felt more, she thought, to push open the gates for the western outskirts of Ban Glean. It should have made her feel something. It wasn’t nothing, exactly, after all, there was a deeply rooted disgust within her. However, it wasn’t as groundbreaking as she had thought it would be. The steps she took past the boundary of the village were no different than the hundreds she had taken to get there, and strangely, no different than the ones she’d taken to leave seven years ago.

It felt wrong, somehow, to be so miserably calm.

“You cannot blame yourself for healing,” D’ao said. 

“I don’t really blame myself, it’s just weird. So much happened…” She frowned when the village gate creaked and shuddered, unable to close properly with its crooked hinges. She stopped, staring at the rotting wood and wearing ropes. “I used to hate this gate.”

“It isn’t much of one now…”

“Was it always so small?”

“Well…you were much smaller back then.”

She huffed a small laugh, nodding as she turned toward the heart of the village. An old alley between houses approached on her left, the alley where little boys and girls used to kick and spit at her. The one she was always afraid to pass when she wanted to come home from playing in the woods. She wondered again at how she didn’t feel—Oh. 

That was what was so strange. 

It wasn’t that she was calm, or that she felt nothing. She simply wasn’t afraid. Years of pain had taught her fear, and never once had she been able to pass through those gates, walk this lane, without a trace of it.

“Is this why you had me talk about it so much?”

“It is. And it is why you stayed with the knights of the flaming rose.”

She scoffed. “You hated it there, wanted to leave at any moment.”

“But you did not,” he said, and she fell silent. “For what they were in their deficiencies, they were still honorable. Your faith in humanity remains because of them. They gave you something I could not.”

“They were…good, in their own way, weren’t they?” she said as she entered the main road leading through town. A few people raised their heads to watch her pass, but she didn’t pay them much mind other than a glance and a nod, and no one tried to speak to her. “More lovely than these people.”

“Indeed. There is more cheer to be found in a graveyard.”

“Dead men can’t suffer, I guess.” she said, her eyes trained on a woman up ahead. She was hunched over a pail of water, a cloth scrubbed against a washboard, but her shoulders were exposed. The markings of a heavy whipping were borne on them, embedded and marred. She grimaced and looked away, a sickening burn in her chest.

She paused at the last turn and realized, then, just how small the village actually was. Even from here, she could see the other side of it. It seemed so much bigger back then. 

Three kids ran from another, nearly bumping into her when they ran across the street. They squealed and laughed, holding up sticks for swords and baskets for shields. They were so young, and naive, and didn’t understand the importance of what had happened here. Of what still happened.

Did they understand the cruelty like she had at their age? Had they been the subjects of it? They weren’t silent like she had been forced to be. Her heart ached, because even if they had tasted the end of cruel punishment, would they still end up like their parents? Little boys like their heartless fathers? Little girls like their docile, accepting mothers? It should have been a crime, she thought, for them to have been born in a place like this.

“It is not their fault,” D’ao said. “You can’t blame a child for the crimes of their parents—the laws. The only things they have done have been taught to them by the only people they have.”

“I don’t blame the children,” she said, turning the last corner. The Alderman’s house sat near the end of the street, large and built up, proud. “I blame their parents, and I hate that this wretched place is the only thing they will ever know. They are raised to believe cruelty is normal, and because of that, they won’t be any better. I mourn who they should have been, if they had not been born here.”

“Time will tell.”

“Time would see these kids whipped like their parents.”

“Time will allow for rage, and rage to rebellion, rebellion to change. The only thing certain is that nothing remains the same.”

“And how long will it take before a rebellion makes a change? How many people will be left to suffer and die here before someone gives a damn?”

“....’ D’ao sighed mournfully. “I don’t know. All I can say is this…do not mourn those who are not lost. These children may yet grow to be good people, and not all in this village were evil on the day you left it.”

She frowned and became silent. He wasn’t wrong. There were still good people here, and she would not be able to tear this place to the ground without regret. She hated it here, every rock, every building, every plant, but she could not hate every person. The mothers, despite their crimes of remaining silent and others for condoning, were mostly victims. The fathers, though some certainly deserved death, were subject to the laws and bound by them. She had seen men weep for their wives, and beaten themselves, because they could not bear to see their loved ones punished. She had seen mothers claw out the eyes of officials who dared to raise a hand against their sons and daughters. Yes, the place was wretched and she hated it to its very core, but she could not hate them all.

She stopped at the door of the Alderman’s house—her father’s house, if she were to relate to it. She did not bother to cast an illusion over her eyes as she knocked, finding it senseless at this point. Her mother would know, and her father would not be able to do anything worse than what he had already done.

“You are sure it was Ita who captured the Afreet.”

“The Council says so. It has been a week already, though, and I fear we might be too late.”

“Do you think she has already forced it into a contract?”

“I am not certain, but if she has, she has not done it here.”

“How do you know?”

“The village isn’t on fire, obviously. No genie would be bound without a fight.”

She grimaced, and D’ao continued. “Do not worry. If the Afreet is merely bottled up, you will simply take the bottle away from here and let it loose. It will know you once you begin the spell, and you will send it home with no issues.”

“And if it is bound?”

“Then your first time freeing a genie will be interesting!” D’ao said playfully. Her heart sank, and D’ao immediately changed tones. “Do not worry. It will be fine. I will walk you through what you forget.”

She hummed. Seeing as no one answered the door, she knocked again, but louder. Again, she was met with no response. Looking around her and seeing no one of great importance, she sighed and lifted the latch. There was no resistance, and so she shoved open the door and stepped inside. 

The house hadn’t changed much over the years. A table was to her left, a knife and carrots strewn about on it. A few chairs sat across the way in front of the fire, which still held steady flames and fresh logs. They hadn’t been gone long, it would seem.

“I thought you might come back one day,” a woman spoke, exiting the side chamber on the right. There was no familiarity in her figure as she stood and approached the fire. Nothing familiar in the way she walked, limping and crooked, or in the way she held her back up straight, her collarbones sticking out far too much from her skin. “It seems you could not gather the hint of an unanswered door, so please, come right in.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming back,” she said, and the woman, so dreadfully strange though once familiar, laughed softly. 

“And yet you did.”

“Ita—”

“Oh, you didn’t do me the traditional courtesy of calling me mother.”

The girl hesitated, strangely amused. Her brows furrowed gently. “Would you have preferred it?”

A pause. “No.” Ita sat herself in front of the fire. She did not look at her anymore, favoring the reflection of the flames. “By all accounts I have not been your mother for the last seven years. Before even that, I suppose I had not considered myself one. There is no need to stand in ceremony now.”

The girl grimaced and flicked her eyes away, favoring the carrots on the table. It was not as though Ita paid attention, or even could perceive the pang in her chest, but she found herself unable to look at her.

“What is it that you want?” Ita asked. “If you have come back here for my love, I am afraid I don’t have any to give you. You have known this since before you left, it hasn’t changed in your absence. You had best be gone while your father is out. Nothing good will happen if you stay.”

The girl smiled, and to a woman who did not consider herself her mother, it was genuine. “As you have said, I have never had your love. I do not need it now.”

Ita hummed, but there was something in the way her shoulders slumped. She stepped into the room, scanning the edges and shelves for the genie bottle. 

“Might I ask you something, though?” she said.

“If you must.”

“Why did you hate me for the same sins you committed?”

Ita snapped her head toward her with a hint of disapproval. “The same sins?”

“For being born, and for having magic.”

“Hated you for being born?” Ita said suddenly, as if surprised, and stood from her seat. The flames danced in her eyes. “No, I didn’t hate you for either of those things.”

The girl paused, her brows furrowing as bitter heat gripped her chest. “No?”

“You were right on one account, though. I did hate you for my own sins. You were quiet and docile. You listened to everything your father told you, accepted his beatings. And me?” she scoffed, “You looked up to me like I was some sort of saint—the epitome of good. You laughed and you smiled and you didn’t say a fucking word. You let them beat you. Then you came home to me so that I could fix it. Your saintly mother. I hated you, because you were my exact copy.”

The girl’s eyes widened when Ita’s hand swung out, a light orange spark illuminating beneath her skin, crackling at her fingers. “But I never hated you more than the day you were exiled from this place. It would have been better for everyone if you had killed every last one of us that day. But no, you were foolish, and you spared us. You condemned us to the misery of living in this place.”

Ita sneered. “Did you know they cut out Valeska’s tongue because she tried to defend her son when he played out in the woods? No one was allowed to leave without an official after you left. He was a child. They whipped that whoreson too, Balint, for having said something kind about you and the Witchers. The day you decided to be righteous—”

“Your sins, and the sins of the rest of this village,” the girl interrupted sharply, her voice frighteningly cold in contrast to the growing flame in her chest, “Are not my burden to bear.”

Ita stiffened and turned away. She looked into the fire once more and was silent for a time. “No, I supposed they aren’t.” She said miserably, “but the burden is heavy, and I am sick of carrying it.”

The girl’s lips twisted as she resumed looking for the genie’s bottle. A violent scream ached in the base of her throat. How could she defend someone else’s daughter, and in the same sentence condemn her own? Then she remembered, she was not her daughter by any account other than blood.

“I never blamed you entirely,” she said, “It was less your fault than father’s. He was the one who influenced the laws. I despised you for a while, but that is…I don’t feel much about it all anymore, it seems,” she said, quietly, honestly and she swallowed thickly. “I still don’t particularly like you though.”

Ita laughed humorlessly and shook her head. “A bit of honesty, I see. Let me push it further so we can both be on our way, then. If you don’t blame me, and you aren’t here for my love, then what are you here for? Are you here to forgive me then? To relinquish my burdens?”

The girl hummed as she poked around the vials and bottles and vases, none of which were what she was looking for. She took a moment to spare Ita a glance. “Nothing I say can remove the weight of what happened here. And if anything of what you have said is true, that my kindness is what makes you hate me, then I am certain my forgiveness would not relieve your burdens. It would only make them worse.”

Ita’s shoulders slumped. “I see. Then…” she whispered. Tentatively, she bent over the side of the fire pit, and reaching behind it into the shadows, pulled up a large clay bottle. Runes were written within the clay, old Elder speech, if she could read it properly, and as a lid, a metal seal. D’ao made a few selective remarks that shall remain unspoken for their vulgarity.

“Then I suppose you are here for this?” Ita asked, and the runes burned red and orange, the seal hissing as she lifted the bottle up. The Aftreet remained caged within. 

The girl stiffened, her jaw clenching as she remained silent. Ita smiled dimly as she turned to face her daughter. There, in the low light offered by the narrow windows and fire, the woman looked empty. Her arms crossed as the bottle hung from her slender fingers, her bones poking out from beneath her worn and taut skin. Her lips were cracked from anxious biting, her nails chewed short. Scars poked out from her shoulders and chest, bruises littered about her arms. For a mage, she was young and to some might have been beautiful still, if given the chance to heal. Despite the delicacies of her body, she was still simply empty. 

“You—” she started, taking a step forward as Ita interrupted her.

“I haven’t told anyone what happened that day, but I could hardly call myself a mage if I didn’t recognize the power of a genie.” Ita grimaced, her hands clenching the bottle tightly. “I could never understand you. After everything that happened…even with all that power at your fingertips.”

There was nothing she could say that would ease her mind. “I knew what everyone thought I was.”

Ita shook her head. “I learned some things when you were gone,” she said. “I had time to think and ponder, and I realized something about people. I didn’t know it for myself for several years—don’t move or I swear it I will drop this bottle,” she said and the girl froze in her tracks. 

Ita continued. “It came to me one day. I…Valeska, when they cut out her tongue, do you know what she did? She took her knife, and she slit the throats of three people before they were able to run her through. She had been so calm before then, quiet, like the rest of us. Everyone thought she had gone mad. That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? In every way we are extreme, were are the same in opposite. In every way we are kind, we are just as ruthless. In every way we are docile, we are equally savage.” She paused, and it seemed as though she wept, even though no tears were shed. “Monsters are born out of innocence, when they have had their innocence stripped from them in the cruelest ways.”

“...” the girl paused, shaking her head. It wasn’t… “We still have a choice. We aren’t…we aren’t mindless—we get to choose.” she crept a bit closer as flames danced in Ita’s eyes, sparked beneath her skin. For the first time since she entered the village, fear seized her chest.

“They already believe we are monsters, my dearest.” her voice cracked and her fingers twitched. “I’m just proving them right.”

Ita dropped the bottle, it shattered on the ground, and all at once, there was nothing but fire.

The flames enveloped her before she had the chance to react, their unnatural heat licking her skin as the ground quaked. She dropped to the floor as a violent screech cut through the air and the walls caved in. The roof erupted into flames, collapsing on top of her as a massive, bird-like creature launched up through the thatch and wood and soared up into the sky in a pillar of fire. 

She covered her head with her hands, and with a few mumbled words, the air around her seized and braced like a shield, barely enough to keep her clothes unburnt as the flames took hold of every open space. The house was set ablaze, and she was in the midst of it. She couldn’t breathe, and that familiar, haunting fear erupted in her bones.

The girl gasped for air, burying herself deeper in the ground as it trembled for her. The dirt stirred beneath her knees just as a support beam fell from the roof behind her, so close her heart jumped as the flames brushed the ends of her hair. 

“Get out!” D’ao shouted. A narrow dirt path lifted on the ground, the pocket of air surrounding her grew smaller. She crawled with the path, coughing as smoke gathered in her lungs, ducking beneath the falling roof and climbing over the walls as heat began to devour her skin. The path lead her stumbling into the street.

That stiff, sickening quiet that had once filled the village was gone, replaced with complete and utter panic and chaos. A rain of fire fell from the sky and she stumbled as she gathered herself to her feet. A man ran screaming from his home and fell, his body entirely consumed in flames. She couldn’t remove her eyes from him as he writhed. And then came the horror. 

The moment she took a step, she couldn’t stop running. She bumped into people and stumbled, lungs burning, until she found herself further from the center of the destruction. She hid herself on a beaten path behind a house. If she wanted, she could peek back out over its side and see Ita, see everyone and everything, but she couldn’t. Her heart beat violently against her ribs and her hands clasped over her ears to drown out the screaming. The flames and terror, the constraints on her lungs, it was familiar. Terribly. And all she could feel was chains, all she could see was blood and fire.

She couldn’t breathe. 

The wind stirred heavily around her as the Afreet soared above her, massive and bold, its wings of flame so intense that as they extended, their tips brushed the nearby houses and ignited the wood. And even in just those few moments, she looked back to the ground, and the place she had once called home, was slowly turning to ash and cinders. It seemed to her, in that moment, as the Afreet’s wings flapped and collided with the roof of the blacksmith’s shop, the one she hid behind, that even the dirt would not escape its fury. Hot coals littered the ground so fully the earth glowed red and she trembled.

“Gather yourself!” D’ao shouted, a steadying grip on her spin aimed to pull her out of the shock and panic. “Open the gate!”

She peeked around the corner, and in the center of the destruction, Ita stood, untouched by the flames with her arms stretched out. In a terrifying discovery, she heard the woman laugh. It verberated through the air and drowned out the screams. Her head whipped around with wide eyes, people ran all about as houses and trees caught fire. The wind picked up speed and stirred the dust and flames into a whirlwind.

“Aen daerienn essaeth–Aen dae—”

What were the words again?

The Afreet let out another ear piercing cry. She looked, and as it thrashed against the verbal chains Ita spoke into binding. 

“I-I—” she stuttered, shaking her head as destruction erupted around her. The flames turned from orange to blue, and an immense heat washed over her skin. Her breaths came in short as she coughed out the smoke and her skin burned. Bodies began to collapse in the street. “I can’t remember—The words—”

“Breathe, child—” D’ao said, and for a moment the rest of the chaos was drowned out. Her ears rang.

People bumped into her as they fled, running from the homes catching on fire. She stumbled. The whirlwind picked up heat, and she groaned as her arms began to blister. With a thrust of her hand, she buried it into the earth, and then pulled. The ground launched up in a wall against the wind, shielding her from the brunt of its heat.

“You must take a breath and steady yourself. You are the gateway, child. The words have not changed, you must open the door. I will guide you, but by God child, you must breathe!” 

Her body pulsed as though someone was beating against a closed door, and white lines cracked along the girl’s arms. Fresh air burst out of the miniscule fractures, filling her lungs. With it, came clarity. A cold wash of determination that was not her own, but granted to her from those on the other side of the door.

Across the way, Ita stood bathed in fire, but it did not hurt her. Instead, the flames sank into her skin until her veins turned red and crawled across her bare body. She was changing, morphing and crystalizing. It was unnatural and strange, but Ita did not waver even as her skin became dark as coal. 

She grit her teeth and gathered her wits with the fresh air. D’ao began to recite the words in her ear, the impression of his hand on her shoulder keeping her steady as she knelt on the ground. “Aen daerienn essaeth en’leass comp—”

The Afreet dove down into the village with an excited shriek, startling her. Dropping quickly back to the ground, she tossed up her hands and forced the earth to entomb her in a shallow grave as the Afreet’s wings glided an arm’s reach above her, the intense heat sinking so dreadfully into her hands that she screamed. The earth shook as D’ao cursed.

For the first time in years, he sounded frightened. The earth trembled as the firm impression of his arms around her held her tightly. “Let her finish the damn spell—hellish fool! Do you want to kill her?!”

The Afreet screeched, and when her grave unburied her, crumbling around her, her heart stopped. She could no longer feel the heat, or the blistering of her skin. She couldn’t feel anything except the bone-chilling horror. 

The flaming whirlwind expanded as Ita screamed, her body no longer her own as it turned back, morphing like red hot coals. Her voice was no longer hers, but layered and heavy, dreadful. But as the fire cracked, as it raged with boundless power, she watched it consume. The buildings were no more, having been burned to the ground, and because of this she could not escape the sights. Fire burst out and grasped hold of the people who ran like monstrous hands. Even the woods on the outskirts caught fire, and with agonizing screams, everyone within them burned.

For a moment, she could not speak, her mind unable to grasp reality as she watched a little boy—a child who had once held a stick for a sword, a basket for a shield—disintegrate into ash and bone. She could not understand how Ita, even consumed by fire and rage, laughed.

The Drowners that laid in rivers and ate children could hardly compare to what Ita was then, for Drowners were dead and could not understand. But she, in that moment, understood. She answered the questions she had held on to from the first moment she could think. Its answer stood in front of her. So, horror struck and frightened, she whispered the words D’ao whispered in her ear.

“Aen daerienn essaeth en’leass compes incantaentum. Ego conteram vincula vestra Cáerme creasa.”

A scream pierced the air as she reached out her hand and the chains binding the Afreet trembled and groaned. It was not from the Afreet, or even the ones subjected to the flames, but from the monstrosity that stood unbothered in the midst of the carnage. It was no longer Ita, as her flesh had turned to coal, her eyes empty of life and reddened to their core. It screeched like an animal, a mindless beast, its body becoming increasingly disfigured. The Afreet dove as white cracks began to from on the girl’s hands and reached up her arms with ghosts of golden smoke. The swarming sound of cicadas thrummed in every corner of her mind, echoing in the dirt beneath her feet, in the air she breathed. It built with every word passing her lips.

“Aen daerienn essaeath rhydd er mwyn niwtraliaeth. Agwetheill aep te Eileamaid Gaeth.”

The chains snapped. Ita’s remnants howled and jerked its head toward her. Miserably, it tried to charge at her, but the girl reached out an open hand, and the ground spiked beneath the creature. It pierced the its legs and they broke, the coal snapping in two. The creature did not seem to feel it, as it began to crawl toward her and howled. The white cracks reached up from the girl’s waist to cover her neck and met the ones breaking up her arms upon her shoulders. The Afreet’s tail touched the ground as it approached the woman from behind, and she closed her eyes and she spoke the incantation again.

“Aen daerienn essaeth en’leass compes incantaentum. Ego conteram vincula vestra Cáerme creasa. Aen daerienn essaeath rhydd er mwyn niwtraliaeth. Agwetheill aep te Eileamaid Gaeth.”

The ancient Elder words caused the air to thicken and condense, their weight descended upon the village to compact the dust and still the whirlwind, not even the flames could persist. The girl’s blue eyes flashed as a strike of lightning beneath the ocean and all at once, the Gateway opened. The cracks within her body expanded and separated in a blinding white light, and though it was not painful, it was consuming. She fragmented as the Afreet passed through her. There was a glimpse of an immense plane of fire. A dozen Afreets. A lake of white and blue flames. Reddened eyes and—a bow of gratitude. And then there was nothing.

It was dark as the fragments of her body and mind slowly sealed back into their rightful places, white cracks fading, closing the Gateway—sealing time and space. There was nothing in the midst of it, and she despised the complete stillness because in that moment, she was entirely alone, adrift as her body returned to its physical state.

Flashes of Kaer Morhen shot across her mind. Geralt and Yennefer in the gathering hall, their heads shooting up as the medallions hanging on the tree began to vibrate. She could swear she could hear their violent hiss. She saw as Geralt’s eyes landed on her, launching from his seat, her name on his lips before he too, disappeared into bitter blackness. She smiled as her weakened, reformed body began to collapse and she fell into the ash and cinders—amongst the bones of the dead and tormented, beside an unmoving coal hand, broken cleanly from its owner’s disfigured body. 

It was strange, then, because all she could see as her consciousness waned, the burns on her body consuming, was purple and gold. 

“Yenn—” she whispered, then her mind slipped and she was gone.

The token dangling from her neck pulsed.

[marcskywalker]

merthur au/prompts I can't stop thinking about (@ fic writers)

arthur being magic positive and hiding it from merlin. I spoke more about it here and @neupulman wrote this amazing fic based on it but omg this idea lives in my head RENT FUCKING FREE and I'd love as many fics written on it as possible

merlin being cursed (or wtv) and temporarily loses his magic. He grows insanely controlling of arthur cause he feels like he can no longer protect arthur from danger if he doesn't have magic and is constantly trying is order him around. no, you're not allowed to go there, no you can't say that, no you're not allowed to accept food from him. and arthur is just ?????? tf is wrong with my best friend?? but doesn't read much into it because it's merlin and merlin's always been a little weird and bossy. merlin keeps getting into so much more trouble (cause again, his usual way of staying out of trouble is magic) so arthur's put in position to protect him more often and both of them are ???????? "why THE FUCK ARE you putting yourself in danger for me??" and "WHY ARE YOU getting into so much trouble??" until they figure out that "oh you're in love with me and can't bare to see any harm come to me" and "oh you have magic and someone already hurt you by taking it away"

Arthur meeting Merlin's family for the first time and being accepted. Idk how clear I can make this but I hate Arthur's family and how is he is treated by them (except you ygraine, you're dead and lovely) so ya someone give that boy loving affirmations

One of them is brainwashed/mind controlled/possessed and beats the shit out of the other person who refuses to fight back. I LOVE this trope. It slaps all the time. Look at destiel. Look at stucky. ALL THE TIME

another au that I've spoke about before AND I'LL SPEAK ABOUT IT AGAIN: I took that scene where Arthur says "I'll give up my crown just see her smile again" or something like that about morgana, and ran with it. There is only so many assassination attempts a brother can go through before he wilts and does another to have his sister back. In Arthur's case: he willingly hands over the throne for a chance at having a chance at his pesty, loving, older sister (I AM A YOUNGER BROTHER ARTHUR TRUTHER) look at him with something other than endless hate. what I Love about this prompt is that it could go so so many different ways. @mobycotton was lovely enough to write this amazing fic for me that I LOVED. In my head, Arthur is really shaken up by another one of Morgana's attempts at killing him. He doesn't know what's saved him and at this point he wishes whatever it is would stop. He goes down a spiral thinking of his family; the mother that he killed, the father that he let down, the uncle he betrayed and the sister he never deserved. What good could he be for Camelot when he wasn't even good enough for his flesh and blood. So he announces his truce; gives it over to morgana and leaves Camelot and everyone he knows behind. The knights and merlin have to eventually hunt him down and convince him otherwise (and he meets random people along the way who are stans of King Arthur just like me and he gets some sort of self esteem back)

Protective BAMF merlin. Basically merlin overhears someone talking shit about his prince and starts a fist fight. Arthur finds out

Mid s1 merthur where Arthur knows he's in love with Merlin and he shoves it DEEP inside, sticks to pining after his manservant like the pathetic (lovingly) puppy he is. All Merlin knows is that, for whatever reason, he would rather eat his own feet than let anything happen to Arthur. Which is why when brave, stupid arthur walks towards a stranger light source in the forest; he follows without hesitation, only to see...... arthur and himself snogging against a tree? Basically a pining, repressed prince Arthur and Merlin I don't know what this weird feeling in my tummy when I see him is Emrys accidentally walks through a portal into an alternatively universe where they know how to communicate well and have been disgustingly in love. The four of them have to work together to get Arthur and Merlin back where they belong.

Merlin makes a deal with his king cenred: for protection of his village, he will infiltrate Camelot's castle and bring them down. He just wishes someone had told him that prince charming of Camelot would make him fall in love with his pouty lips and gooey eyes. I don't know if yáll have noticed this but Arthur pouts A LOT. I can't take him seriously smh

[nights-nonsensical-ramblings]

okay so I watched the knuckles series (by following the example of the pirates of course ) and I have to say while it was a very enjoyable watch, I have no clue what I watched and I’m mostly confused and have come away feeling mostly neutral. I don’t hate it, but it hasn’t dug its hooks in like other sonic things have for me.

Like some bits I very much enjoyed watching and would happily see again and others I couldn’t stand and dread the idea of watching again.

there were plenty of moments where Knuckles went against what I adore about him, and others that perfectly capture what I adore about him. Boy was so adorable though. Loved lots of the expressions he made.

okay I’m gonna get a bit more specific from here and cuz I got no clue what’s going on with the tagging and it gets long I’ll put it under a cut.

So it’s kinda hard for me to remember what happened, but I will say I love wades mother, she was amazing, loved her and Knuckles’ dynamic and would welcome it if she appeared again. (Also, new headcanon unlocked that knuckles is such a mamas boy he’s a magnet for motherly figures)

I really am not a fan of his sister Wanda tho. The childish sibling banter did entertain me at first (and made me think that knuckles was going to reflect on his relationship with his brothers) but it went on too long and just made Wanda feel like she never matured past being a bratty teenager. (And judging by what I’ve seen I think she’s gonna be on ‘top _ worst sonic characters’ lists for a while)

my opinion on Wade himself hasn’t really changed. I have no strong feelings towards the guy

We didn’t get as much as I wanted, but I loved the Wachowski family stuff. I needed so much more of knuckles being the trouble kid and the family trying to help.

It’s pretty annoying that the start of the show set up Knuckles learning to chill, be a kid on earth and settle in with his new family. Only to drop it basically immediately and the closest thing it has to a resolution is Knuckles finding his jam.

and yeah, I could see plenty of moments where they had the perfect opportunity to explore knuckles on a deeper level but chose not to. But I am glad they at least hinted at it with those expressions I keep raving about

On that. Cuz Pachacamacs appearance was what springboreded what was going on in a different direction. What is going on here? Is this a Knuckles thing? But Wade speaks to him to, but that was under knuckles’ guidance? I think? So can anyone in this world talk to spirits? Can only certain people be spirits? I mean. One Knuckles got over the initial shock he accepted the fact he was talking to a dead tribe member (I’m also sad that nothing was done with the idea that in this universe Knuckles and Pachacamac were alive at the same time) I got so many more questions on how spirits work in here, but I’m just gonna move on. (Although, maybe this sets up knuckles speaking to Tikal 👀. Or maybe his dad or even his mum.)

But considering what Pachacamac’s role is in the games making him so comedicly focused felt weird. Yeah this universe has different events. But still feels weird cuz of how we know Pachacamac.

I don’t even know what to say about the whole fire powers fire demon (who’s heavily implied to be iblis) I need way more time to think what is going on. Like does any of the pre existing lore apply? If so those are some WILD implications. If not, did that mean they just made this guy like iblis cuz it’s a fire creature that fans will recognize??

A minor thing but I can’t hear our house without thinking of the chemist warehouse add. And a few of the other songs are strongly associated with other things and I couldn’t help but think of them when they played. I don’t see this as a good or bad thing. It is just a thing.

hmm. I had more thoughts but after that ghost tangent I can’t really remember them. I guess I’ll have to come back later with another post if I get them back.

So, for now my closing thoughts are: it’s not a terrible show. Lots of writing choices I disagree with, but I don’t nessicaily think they’re bad. And there’s definitely enjoyment to be found (more if you watch it with some friends) but it’s not really to my taste. Especially with how much irs advertise as about knuckles and then not. Some moments made me very happy some made me want to nope out some I don’t even know.

congratulations to Wade fans, I’m gonna find what bits I wanna cherry pick and I’ll be on my merry way.

[shadow-laviko]

What do you think about hellxander,,

Oh BOY. Maaan, we are not ready.

Spoilers for the end of Rain Code of course.

Oh yeah, also, I'm sick so my brain is not working very properly right now, so I might make a lot of mistakes. Sorry for that.

I've started liking (and even just basically hearing about) Hellxander for a bit more than a week now, and, oh boy, do I love them.

At first I didn't really think much of the ship (mostly because I'm terrified of zombie and the first time I saw Fake Zombie Zilch, I was mostly trying to survive rather than appreciating his love for Yomi), but since I replayed the game and saw it on tumblr... Oh boy.

I don't even know where to start from... Well, I started writing a fanfic about them almost right after discovering the ship, so I think that shows how much I love them?

Like, it's my favourite ship from Rain Code. And from veeeeery far. At first I liked Makoto x Yomi (and still do), because they have a funny and interesting dynamic and potential for fluff (because if you can't allow yourself to be weak even in front of your ennemy who already hates you and finds you weak, when could you?), and, I can't stop thinking that Makoto does not hate Yomi and could genuinely develop some kind of relationship with him.

Anyway, back to Hellxander... The ship surpasses Yomi x Makoto because... HAVE YOU SEEN AIDE (that's how most people call him, right? That word is so funny to me) ACTING TOWARDS YOMI??? I mean, ok, sure, "Yomi" was actually Yuma. BUT STILL. Aide believe it was Yomi, and seemed so happy to talk to him. I swear everyone could have seen a tail wagging during this "scene". Like, COME ON. There's no way Aide wasn’t in love with Yomi. Sure, he might have hidden it when he was alive (although I headcanon him fanboying like crazy and twirling his hair in his mind everytime he was talking with Yomi), but he was definitely in love.

That and, he seems so obediant to Yomi that there's no way Yomi would have hated him or punished him for anything other than fun! And, I'm sure if he had ever punished Aide, Yomi would have been very gentle with him, because he needed his right hand man to not be too damaged to work properly.

And, do you really think Yomi would remain impassive to someone who obeys him, adores him and the likes? There's no way. Yomi would have at the very least considered him a friend, or someone he could agree not to hurt too much.

MOREOVER, can you imagine Yomi being weak with someone else than his right hand man who is here exactly because Yomi isn’t strong enough to take care of everything by himself?? If someone can escape alive after seeing Yomi weak, it's 🦆in Aide.

AND THE ANGST!! DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE ANGST?! I LIVE FOR THAT CRAP! There's never enough angst/no comfort for me. I eat it, I write it, I dream it and I cry it (does that even make sense??), give me all of your angst, I'll devour that crap. Anyway. Maan, the angst potential for these two is through the roof! Imagine the pain Yomi felt after hearing about the death of Aide. Man must have devastated and tried to keep his composure. I honestly think (headcanon time ?) that Yomi was so dead set on catching Yuma/punishing his subordinate failures because of Aide's death.

Also, not only did he had to accept his death, he also had to accept that actually "All previously dead inhabitant of Kanai Ward are not exactly dead per se, but rather, mindless zombies that might not recognises you, even if you were the best of friends or lovers". That's worse than death!

VCsiCaihs

I love them so much. So so much. There's not enough words, no matter which language I'd use, to describe how much I love them.

As for headcanons regarding those two... I did mention some, previously, so, do I still have any in reserve?

Oh yeah

Uh

Huh. Might be kinda ("kinda"??) nsfw so uh, yeah.

I think Aide loves Yomi so much that just thinking about him turns him on, and is sometimes enough to make him ejaculate

Aide hates Seth because the man is too close to Yomi AND is (according to him) useless or too pathetic. That being said, he doesn't care about the other Peace Keepers because they are useful and not that close to Yomi. As for Martina... He is jealous of her, but she does a good work and Yomi seems to have fun with her, so he can't say anything.

Aide always seem to know when Yomi will have a nightmare and stalks his house/appartment whenever he sense it, just in case he could do something to help him. (Does Yomi know about it? I have no clue)

As for kinks... Man, I tried looking through a LOT of kink lists, and yet, the one I have in mind seem to be too specific and have no name... So I guess I will not say it. I think Aide would be fine with anything, as long as Yomi is happy anyway.

As for Yomi... Hm... I do have a lot of headcanons, but not directly/really related to Aide, so I'll keep them for later I guess?

I mean, I do have some other ideas related to Yomi and Aide, but those are most of fanfic ideas than really headcanons, so hm.

I think I said everything I had in mind regarding them? If not I guess I'll update it or reblog it, we'll see (What's best?).

OH AND PLEASE

If you have any fics or fanarts of Hellxander to share, please, send them to me. I will eat them all. Even if I already know about it. Nomnomnom.

Oh wait, I almost forgot. Thanks a lot for the ask!!

[annot8]

Fools fate is done! And so am I!

(Spoilers and ramblings for Fools Fate below)

Forgive any typos, i am writing through tears :)

First things first, I am thick’s number one fan. I too would hate a long boat journey and would want only for dry land and pink sugar cakes. Despite everything else that was going on, i actually laughed out loud when fitz realised Thick had stayed on Asevjal and tricked everyone (including Chade). I hope they treat him well at Buckkeep, and that his life is simple and happy.

As for Chade - I have never been so frustrated with a character I once loved. I still love him but he makes it so difficult. The dynamic between him and fitz was such an interesting and infuriating thing to read. To realise that the wise, all-knowing, old man that had always guided you is actually just… some guy - crazy. I don’t trust Chade very much, and there were times in this story that I really hated him, but it’s hard not to see him through fitz’s eyes and forgive him. He does what he judges best, even when that thing is cruel and callous.

The fool broke me with every line. Seeing him waiting there for them all on Aslevjal was brilliant but I was surprised by how quickly he forgave fitz. Though, after Golden Fool, I was happy to see them get along.

Obviously, I know there are more books so I knew he wasn’t actually going to die (though I got less confident in that when he very much did die and was dead for quite some time). But seeing him so afraid of death was heartbreaking - especially when he put a brave face on for fitz. All the stuff with the pale woman was so so awful. Him literally being crucified before fitz, with his rooster crown placed mockingly on his head?? What am I supposed to do with that???

Fitz taking care of the fool after bringing him back healed something in me. It was so soft and gentle, and sad. I knew that somehow it would not last, and so I was not surprised when he told fitz he wasn’t coming with him. I know they will meet again, but still it was very sad.

As for Fitz… I think because it took me so long to read assassins apprentice, I will always see him as a little boy. And because of that, I will always make excuses for him, and love him. He is maybe my favourite character ever, in anything. I did not realise how much being forged had affected him, and was very happy to see him restored.

The ending felt a little quick, and everything was tied up maybe a little too neatly, but I still like it. I imagine that a lot of people probably didnt like the ending very much but I did.

I’ve learned that apparently people generally don’t like molly very much. I am here to make it clear that I am not one of those people!!! I love molly. I love that she is angry and difficult and stubborn. She was right to leave fitz all those years ago and she was right to accept Burrich’s love and help. Like with the fool, I was surprised she forgave fitz so quickly. But I am happy she did.

For me, I know that the fool is fitz’s great love. I know that they would be so happy together. But the fool ventures out and fitz goes to rest. Molly represents a normal, mundane, life, with love and children and simple pleasures. And I am glad that fitz, with all his memories restored to him, can enjoy a life such as that.

I love nettle for a lot of the same reasons I love her mother. And I love that it is Nettle’s Coterie. Her involvement was another thing I was mad at Chade for, for I had hoped nettle would never have to be sacrifice for the Farseers, but in the end, she needed to know who she was.

I expected to cry at this book, but not as much as I did. I mainly cried over burrich, who was always a favourite. I think, as readers, we latch on to him the same way fitz does in the beginning. I was hoping for a slightly more emotional reunion between him and fitz, but actually, the one we got was more in character. It was so good to have him back, but as soon as the stone dragon started charging towards swift, I knew what was going to happen. And despite how much I love the fool, I was a little disappointed in fitz that he was not by burrich’s side when he died.

I am trying to think of what else to say but I think I am too close to it all. I cried a lot over patience. I am happy that the six duchies once again has a king-in-waiting and a strong, foreign born wife. Hap’s ending was a surprise, and I feel his story was a little neglected throughout, but he’s happy so I’m happy. I had hoped to see jinna again but I suppose that part of the story had already ended. Ooo and the last line about Lacey was so unnecessary!! I didn’t need to know that.

All in all, I liked this book very much despite the pain it caused me. I am happy that fitz is happy - in his father’s holdings, with his wife, the children he cares for, and his eccentric mother. I am sure it will all soon come tumbling down, and that I will have to blame fitz for it.

I am anxious to see the fool again. And if fitz’s peace cannot last, then I hope at least that in the trouble he’ll no doubt find himself in, his Beloved will be by his side. For even though I like molly, neither she nor even nighteyes could make fitz whole, the way that his fool does.

I am going to bed.

[iiikaruz]

It’d be like- totally cool and awesome if you could share more ivan headcanons if you have any :]

i hope ur ready for the most random, unorganized hcs on the planet bc WHOO BOY DO I HAVE SOME STUFF TO SAY ABOUT THIS CRINGEFAIL INCEL!!

- tried learning how to do jumpstyle and is actually pretty decent at it, despite his skinny-ass toopthpick legs. also he literally can’t dance in any other way. like, he sucks at anything besides that.

- however, learning that forever ruined his music taste, since he now listens to breakcore and slavic dnb: just the most ear-rupturing, bass boosted music with anime samples

- he was definitely a Creepypasta & Invader Zim kid when he was younger. no questions asked. also he probably had unrestricted internet access as a child and fell upon gore & shock vids.

- furthermore on middle school ivan, he probably wore eyeliner and covered one of his eyes with his bang. he also never grew out of covering his eye with his bangs (i hate/adore his gay-ass bangs so much. maybe they’re the reason why he gets no bitches lmao)

- was raised learning russian by his foster parents and only started learning english when he was 6. (side note: i fucking love his accent it has me thrashing around on the floor)

- his hands are always sweaty but always cold at the same time?? bro is a physical anomaly and gets the worst of both worlds.

- absolutely sucks at eye contact, but not in the usual way. he ends up accidentally staring at people for way too long when they talk to him/when he’s talking. like, straight-up not blinking for a good minute.

- inherited schizophrenia from his clone father. he mostly just deals with paranoia and bouts of depression.

- is unbelievably touch-starved. to the point that if someone even touches his shoulder for more than a second, his brain just explodes and he immediately just crumples up like a piece of paper.

- swears a LOT in russian and in english (get you a man who can do both lol). his favorite insult is just “kill yourself” and other variations. it always works, definitely/s

- he thinks that any advance towards him is either someone making fun of him or that it’s just him reading into it too much it. he physically cant accept the idea of someone being into him.

- is chronically addicted to Monster Energy.

- greasiest hair ever. i just KNOW he probably washes his hair once a week.

- his favorite anime is Serial Experiment Lain (he’s absolutely a lain kinnie and you can pry this hc from my cold dead hands)

- has an incredibly shitty sleep schedule. like, 4 hours AT BEST. this is made from the combination of him having mild insomnia and him being online all the time.

[hhighkey]

AN// for @dris-stuff <3

Kamado Tanjiro Headcanons

ENEMIES TO LOVERS

the sweetest boy but y’all have a rocky start

you’re a tsuguko under flame hashira rengoku

you may not have the same mentality that rengoku is able to on a daily basis

but you’ll follow him in staying outside of the debate about tanjiro once master accepts him

on the inside though- you’re furious

he broke demon slayer code!

you felt for him and his sister, it sucks but the fact is he’s keeping a demon alive

and tanjiro knows how you feel too the day you displayed disgust in passing at the butterfly mansion

he won’t like anyone who shows disdain towards nezuko

so as excited as he is to work under rengoku, he doesn’t want to see you

fast forward to mugen train uh oh

neither of you are happy to see each other, rengoku didn’t tell you those three idiots were coming

but your opinions are soon changed

after y’all are woken up from the dreams you awake to nezuko looking you dead in the eyes

you realize you’re under attack

you end up working with nezuko and zenitsu to protect the people on board you don’t know where everyone else is

in such a short amount of time you’ve done a 360 about nezuko and you completely understand why tanjiro fights for her

you admire him

oh you want to just apologize to him

akaza happens

fuck him i legit hate him so much

but you’re a wreck as rengoku tells his final words to you and tanjiro, you’re sobbing

you can’t do this without him! you’re not ready to be a hashira yet!

you would not leave his body

tanjiro with the help of kakushi had to drag you away as you screamed, a sobbing mess

it’s heart wrenching

but tanjiro just holds you, through all the pain he’s in to try to comfort you

you’re inconsolable for days

laying up in bed in the butterfly mansion

your life feels over

but you look over to see tanjiro with nezuko, the tiny demon girl fussing over her brother with tiny grunts

you’re jealous of that

and like it’s sensed, he gives you the largest grin he can muster

“i’m sorry,”

is all you say

“i understand now why you’re doing this. if you’d let me help…”

tanjiro accepts immediately

he’s thankful you don’t hate him or nezuko because he always found you pretty lmao

whilst you recover you train and tanjiro and gang as you’ve taken over title of flame hashira

and oh boy you and tanjiro are inseparable

you’re each other’s shadows in a way

he brings you food jokingly feeds you

the biggest emotional support as you two work together to remember and grieve over rengoku

he helps you gain the confidence that you can do this. you can be a hashira and carry on in his remembrance

he has the kindest smile and it always makes you smile as well

he’ll play with your fingers as you lay out watching the night sky

he’ll ask about any scars you have and how you got them

but there’s one last thing

kyojuro’s brother and father

you two go together

que the angst; the fighting. sad senjuro

senjuro loves you and you can tell he’s hurting

the way tanjiro stands up for kyojuro and you warms your heart

you’re mad when he goes to the entertainment district

jealous?

you feel anxious with him leaving you know what goes down in that district

it felt like you hadn’t seen him in years before he comes back, you were so impatient passing the days training and spending time with senjuro

and he got absolutely fucked up too

you’re not even sure if inosuke is actually alive oh my

you heard about tengen and his retirement and you’re so happy for him and the wives

but tanjiro is back!

he’s in bad shape but he lights up when he sees you

you never leave his side as he recovers, making sure he has his meds, foods, bandages changed

you listen to every detail of his mission

it’s actually the funniest thing ever they pretended to be girls how tf did they fool anyone

but it’s so evident how strong he’s gotten and it’s absolutely amazing

he’ll be at the top in no time you’re sure

but you are worried. worried about nezuko and him and the future as he tells you about everything nezuko did

but one day he grabs your hand-

“i thought about you every day while i was there. i think for a long time i didn’t think i had a chance at finding people i would love again or consider family, or i was nervous i’d lose them like my family. it’s why i can’t lose nezuko. but i realized i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you either,”

that’s all he had to say

you’re pressing your lips to his before he even knows what’s going on

y’all are together from that day on

tanjiro is such a kind boyfriend

i feel like he’s definitely an acts of service or quality time guy

he likes being in your presence even if it’s you guys dying training

you guys are cute, nervous little love birds around each other

blushing when your hands touch

quick pecks then running away

zenitsu practically lectures him how he needs to be more confident with such a beautiful girl

but you wouldn’t change anything

you like that he’s gentle- it’s endearing

there’s lots of late night talks, serious talks where you just hold each other

his kisses are always slow snd sensual, softly rubbing your back as your lips move together

he’s SO respectful of you too

always gives you space if you’re changing

probably let’s you win in training even though everyone knows you’ll win anyways

definitely protective though

he’s lost so many people already he can’t lose you even though you’re capable but so was rengoku and he’s gone now

he will take hits for you, pushing you out of the way to take the brunt of it

definitely doesn’t like if you have solo missions he always wants to go

waits patiently at your estate for you to come home

panics if he hears you’ve been injured

he gets so sad going on and on about how he should’ve been there to protect you

will want to hold your hand as much as possible so he knows you’re there with him, you aren’t going anywhere

holds you so tight when y’all sleep or cuddle, wants to feel your warmth and know you’re close

y’all feel dumb for ever hating each other at one point

nsfw

kk so i’ve never rly considered tanjiro in an nsfw way so imma do my best

there is def nothing going on when y’all have beef with eachother. you guys would really just glare at each other

and it isn’t until a few months after the entertainment district and you guys have gotten together do y’all even consider

i think you guys are just young and don’t realize with how busy you are

it takes him getting a little jealous with the attention your giving inosuke one night to do something about it

he’s quiet on the way back to your estate

you know somethings up

he makes a move when y’all have gotten ready for bed and nezuko is sound asleep in the spare room she claimed as her own one day

pins you to the bathroom sink after you washed your face, kissing you hard

he’s needy when y’all fuck

definitely a switch i think

likes when you take control on top

but loves staring into your eyes as his cock fills you up, whispering sweet nothings into your ear

definitely a moaner

loves whispering ‘i love you’s’ as y’all kiss

you love taking care of him after a job

and he loves watching you on your knees as you take his length, tangling his hands in your hair to help guide you as his heads thrown back

will always take care of you

boy knows all your spots

knows exactly how to make you come

he def comes on your stomach or back depending on the position, y’all aren’t risking kids yet

after missions- slow sensual love making

other times- def y’all fucking for hours

hmm why do i see semi public sex as a thing- like in the bathroom at the butterfly estate after getting wounds patched up

and y’all definitely still have sex even if zenitsu and inosuke are in the other room

loves keeping you quiet with his hands

overall y’all have such a fun and sweet sex life, tons of communication

[strawberryblondebutch]

i’m not sure if kirby’s relationships with her classmates in scream 4 is as interesting a topic as her dynamics with the core four but if you have any thoughts i would love to hear them!! ❤️ jill charlie olivia and robbie and all of them

Ahhh this is a fun question! I'm going to be pulling somewhat shamelessly from my fic i'll be your dead bird, you'll be my bloodhound because it gets into a lot of my main headcanons about them! Also because I love that fic and more people should read it

Let's get the cat out of the bag right from the start: she was in love with Jill. We all joke about her surviving a codependent homoerotic teenage friendship, but that's what that was, without a doubt. Jill was her first love, her first kiss (they had to practice. for boys), and the person that she always, always wanted to protect. She totally accepted that she was the sidekick, that her main role in life was to lift up Jill Roberts.

As a consequence of that, she always hated Trevor. Had literally no idea what her best friend saw in the guy. Okay, sure, he's conventionally attractive, but he has all the personality of a napkin drifting in the wind under a freeway. However, Jill was the most important thing, so she kept her opinions to herself when they were actually dating and only got to be a bitch once the cheating allegations came to light.

Similarly, there was a childhood jealousy of Olivia. Jill and Olivia were best friends first because they were neighbors, so they went on neighbor playdates. Ironically, while Jill's interest in boys created friction in the friend group, when Olivia started dating, it was a relief, because she was no longer the immediate competition.

Now, did Jill actually love her back? Insomuch as she was capable of loving anyone, maybe. She liked the attention that she was getting, absolutely. That's maybe the most honesty we can ask for.

Robbie and Kirby have such an interesting dynamic to explore. Based on the casting call for Kirby and everything else about her, I think it's pretty clear that Olivia and Jill were the popular ones, and Kirby's social status was dependent on her being in with them, because otherwise she's just as much of a dork as the Cinema Club guys. There's a bit of self-reflection through the other with Robbie that lends her to keep her distance, be more sardonic towards him, because anything else might cause her place to slip. She pities him.

Charlie was the last person to join their little social web -- they obviously didn't meet until high school ("4 years of classes together," etc.) Now, you know how pairs of people tend to happen? Jill was dating Trevor, Robbie was head over heels for Olivia, that left Charlie and Kirby.

Enter the most toxic lesbian/straight man dynamic, a universal experience for those of us who graduated high school in the 2010s. You meet a guy who shares some of your interests. You realize he's kind of a pompous dick about it. You grow to hate his guts. Through the shadow of heteronormativity, everyone thinks this is flirty bickering, but you genuinely hate this man.

Bisexual Kirby truthers, I see you and I respect you, but I don't see it. At no point before the almost-kiss does anything register beyond "jfc can you go be annoying somewhere else." Now, drunk and realizing that she might die and that she's fallen behind all her peer's social benchmarks, here's when comphet sneaks in, tells her, Hey, this boy is interested in you. You don't want to die a total loser, do you?

The inherent tragedy of Kirby Reed: knowing that your place in the school's social hierarchy is entirely dependent on the whims of the girl you happen to be in love with, who all the time is chiding you about the boy you should like

[raviosrupees]

Super Specific Linked Universe Headcanons Pt 1.

All of the Links are autistic but they all have wildly different ways of presenting it. Ask me about their special interests, please. Please.

Warriors is in his 20s. He is an Aquarius. I'm right.

Sky is the ultimate straight cis ally, but he has bi wife energy. He is best friends with Legend, and they're kind of inseparable.

Twilight is a taurus, he's cis and bisexual, but leans towards women and fem ppl (and too hung up to think about anyone but one woman)

Wild is taller than yall think, 17 or 117 whatever is more convenient for him, zelda told him his birthday is november 7th (scorpio, ofc) and he just accepts that.

Hyrule is pansexual (mostly cis but might be genderfluid, he likes to wear feminine clothes and makeup)

Four is like? 3'8, and he's 20 yo but most people don't believe him. He's a trans boy, and most of the colors are too besides vio, who I think is either genderfluid or pangender, uses all pronouns. Four is bisexual but leans towards guys, though he loves his Zelda.

Legend is 4'10, 17 yo, born december 14th at midnight. he is trans, any pronouns, and bisexual.

Ravio is same height and age as Legend, and they're both born on the same day but ravio was born at noon. This really bothers Legend, he wants his own birthday. Ravi loves it.

also ravio is gay, asian/latino, chubby and has the best smile <3

war is cis and bisexual but he leans towards women, I think he's aromantic but probably could be romantically involved with someone.

Times eyes are more gray than blue

Sky 9 times out of 10 has no clue whats going on. Stupid and confused, and its perfect.

Twilight always knows where all of them are, and I don't even know if it's just smell. He has mom instincts "where are my kids, what are they doing"

Wild got mad anger issues pls calm down babe. Kind of scary. He lets hyrule braid his hair sometimes.

Hyrules eyes are more green than blue, and he has freckles all over his face and body (jokes he ought to get a kiss for every freckle)

Whenever Wind gets mail from his little sister, he reads it to the group. He's very proud of her, and she's very proud of him. She has a bunch of big brothers now.

Four + the colors are white-asian mixed (or looks like it yk, bc he's hylian) his eyes are dark brown.

Legend goes non verbal a lot, esp when they're stressed, but when she talks, she talks. I mean, hand gestures, ranting, cussing, pointing, "and you a bitch, and you a bitch." favorite curse word is cunt.

warriors ruffle everyone's hair, and they all hate it (esp four and legend, who claims he's going to choke him with his own scarf)

Sky likes to sing and dance, and wishes more of them would dance with him.

Twilight has slept as a wolf so often that it's practically natural for him, he really prefers it. Also, he takes all of his nightwatch shifts as a wolf.

Wild will teach literally anyone about edible flora and mushrooms and such, and foraging around hyrule, if only they would listen. Sometimes talks random animals ears off about his favorite flavor combos. Sky loves to listen and ask questions.

Hyrule will hand his favorite people random stuff as "gifts" like feathers, flowers, rocks, dead bugs (he's obsessed with bugs, he loves them so so much and they're all his friends) his favorite animal is a bumblebee

i know we all agree wind swears likek a bloody sailor, bc thats what he is, but how about him using random shit for swears like, "crabs cankles," "bilge-sucking" or calling the others landlubbers. also feel like he'd be the type to say "bite me" when someone disagrees with him.

Four keeps a bunch of books in his bag, and if their reading is disturbed they all have different reactions. Blue pinches or glares, Vio ignores you unless she deems what youre saying important, red gets physically distressed, and green will actually tell you to be quiet. (blue pinches a lot actually)

Legend is a very picky eater, especially with textures, this pisses wild off (wdym you dont like it YOU HAVENT EVEN TRIED IT)

Sky's Zelda is a bisexual virgo, and she knows everything.

Malon makes very good bread. I want to shove that shit in my face ong. Also she insists on giving each of the boys big hugs when shes sees them.

[dourpeep]

7, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 25 (IF UR UNCOMFY W ANY OF THE QUESTIONS JUST PRETEND YOU DIDNT SEE ME ASK NODNOD)

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

heheheeee hello koi- I'll be doing this for Genshin, ofc!

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Mmm, I don't actually have a character I hate, but I'm not particularly fond of the general fanon characterization of Xiao. I adore his character, and the man vs self struggle that's both the internalization of his past as well as his 'acceptance' is just *chef's kiss*.

But while he sounds edgy, Xiao's pretty soft. Sure his en voice is on the gruff/edgy side, but if we always just took voices at face value then ho boy would that be a world of trouble. I get it though, voices generally should (take v lightly) match the characterization, but I really like his en voice! Laila Berzins did so good!

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

Yandere-ization is noticeably prevalent in Genshin, which I think just is because it just so happens they both became more popular (the yandere tropes/characterizations and Genshin in general) around the same time. It's not my cup of tea, but it's not the end of the world either. At one point, scrolling through ao3, I'd pretty much see a yandere fic every other work--especially for characters like Scaramouche or Xiao or Kazuha.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Making everything edgy- Genshin isn't really a just soft feelings game, and a ton of the characters have a pretty dark backstory, but I just am not super into this. It's probably because I'm also just tired of getting such dreary (?) stuff from fandom, but who knows. Specifically though making it seem like Kaeya and Diluc hate each other's guts, making Albedo seem like he's cold or purely calculative, Kaeya being only manipulative and sleazy, Diluc being only broody and grim, Xiao being overly rude and mean, Scaramouche (/j).

That's not to say I downright hate it, but man it does get a little tiring seeing it. That's probably why I tend to write only soft stuff- also writing angst puts me in intense pain

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

MERMAID--Merbedo my beloved...I want more mermaid fics and art! And I know it's mermay but (': I've been so busy that I don't have the time and I am down my tablet so I also can only do traditional art OTL

But anyway! Mermaid Genshin stuff! Give them fancy tails and pretty scales!!! More

18. it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Soft poetic characterization of Kazuha, domestic Xiao, RUBEDOOO (subject 2).

I just love the idea of Kazuha just quietly musing over something, no matter it's importance, or maybe even just admiring the simplicity of something that's equally profound. Kazuha being flowery in his language with that dreamy feel but you can still feel the brewing storm within his mind- oiashdfioe

Xiao being (not) forced into a situation where he's with someone for an extended amount of time, shadowed by his worries about his karma effecting but also those silently brewing emotions that flutter at the simplest thing. Xiao not being very physically affectionate but instead leaving little gifts, or perhaps offering to take watch (like you're traveling together towards a common goal or something and he sees that you're nodding off while on watch so he sits there a little ways away to keep an eye on you while you sleep but also make sure no harm comes).

AND RUBEDO (': I miss him, I want more mhy please give me more of him because I KNOW he's not dead. There's no way--regardless of whcih Bedo is the Albedo at the end of Shadows Amidst Snowstorms, there's no way that he's dead. If the Bedo is Albedo, then he's clearly hiding something or making light of the situation. If it's Rubedo then that's self explanatory.

it doesn't even matter if he *actually* gets much more content I just wanna know my other boy is safe and sound (or maybe just alive yknow)

OH AND EULA! I get that there's that whole thing where people overreacted and took it way out of proportion (esp. on twt), but Eula is a great character! She's good for the trope of breaking away from what you're associated with and I feel like she could do with being included more in the game! I hope she gets another character story because I think she's pretty cool neat

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

Scaramouche. I still am baffled that he's the reason I started writing for Genshin and why I have an unholy knowledge of his entire character and background like I think about it and wonder "the hell?"

Also his personality is exactly the type of person that pisses me off irl so I hate that I really like his character.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Peeps who hear 'Genshin' and immediately just- yknow the thing. Judging and stuff like "Oh. You're one of those people." Like, right back at you dude, you're one of those people who judge someone based off what they enjoy and just can't let people to enjoy what they like right? Yeah thought so.

smh killjoys just cause someone enjoys something that's not necessarily associated with good fandom doesn't mean whatever it is is immediately shit

[brownsstorybook]

Stars - Anakin x F!reader

Anakin Skywalker x F!Jedi!reader smut shot

Summary: You and Anakin are on Naboo to keep senator Amidala safe. The night the three of you decide to stay on a yacht everything changes.

word count: 2.3k

Warning: Nsfw, 18+ actions, unprotected sex, kind of public sex? Lots of smut.

I sighed as I deactivated my saber. "You scared me, Skywalker." I didn't dare face him, Anakin Skywalker. One of the most gorgeous boys in the entire intergalactic universe. I remember our love-hate relationship from day one on. I got assigned to Obi-Wan Kenobi as his second padawan, as if one wasn't enough already. Anakin and I definitely didn't click at first and on missions it was even worse, it surprises me that Obi-wan didn't even bother getting me another Jedi master. Everything Anakin did annoyed me, his charms towards other women, his coldness towards me, his sarcasm and will to do as he wants. I couldn't fucking stand that man. But now I know why, and I am not happy as it is. I developed feelings for him, romantic ones. And it was absolute torture, being around him is intoxicating. But I know I cannot, I know I can't have attachments and certainly not for him.

"Earth to Y/n?" I heard him snap his fingers and I turned my head to finally face him. Oh those beautiful blue orbs stared right back at me. "Hmh?" Was all my throat proceeded to say. "I said, for the tenth time, the council requests our presence." He sighed and took my hand to pull me out of my room. "What in the world does the council need us for? We came back from a mission yesterday!" I was stern in my speech as his feet guided mine towards the council chamber, "I can walk myself Anakin." "Right, sorry." He voiced. 

"I think I do know why the council needs us. There has been an assassination attempt on senator Amidala." "And exactly what does that have to do with me?" I sighed in annoyance, knowing Anakin and the senator have something going on. Or well, I suspect so. As I finished my sentence Skywalker stopped dead in his tracks making me almost bump into him. "Anakin what the f-" "Will you stop it? With that mindset you won't be getting anywhere. You will never become a Jedi knight if you don't stop this madness!" Anakin said, but nothing came out of my mouth. I just blankly stared at this boy who thinks he can pull shit.

"Y/n listen, I know you don't like me and Padmé as much as you do yourself but drop the attitude." As Anakin ranted to me I couldn't help but notice his hair grew, a lot. And so did his body posture. I remember always being a few inches taller than him, but now he just towered over me. Jeez, intimidating. "Okay." I mumbled with a smile before walking past him and finally arriving at the council chambers. I just couldn't bear looking in his eyes any longer, and it is fucking killing me. I am growing attachments and if they grow any bigger I am doomed. 

As the door opened I put up my mental shield in case anyone tried to read my mind. "Young Anakin Skywalker and Y/n L/n, A mission for you, we have." The little green figure in front of me and Anakin spoke up, "To Naboo with senator Amidala, you will go." "I am sorry master, but why?" I acted dumb just to annoy the fuck out of Anakin. I could feel him glaring into my soul for real. "There has been assassination attempts on the senator, and she needs to go in hiding. We can't let her go unsupervised." Obi-wan's thick accent spoke up. Tsk, miss perfect is being treated like a child, I thought to myself. "We will gladly supervise her mas-" I didn't even let Anakin finish his sentence as anger built up in me due all my emotions messing with me, "Isn't it better to let her stay here in the Jedi temple?" 

"Y/n, manners!" Kenobi scolded. "Question the council's decisions, you can not young padawan." Yoda remained calm at my sudden outburst, "Before controlling your emotions and thoughts, a Jedi knight you will not be." I nodded in acceptance, and remained silent.

_______________________________

As we arrived on Naboo later with Padmé I had truly seen it all. Anakin and her being all clingy and flirty and shit. I was devastated as my emotions and love for Skywalker grew more every second I spent with him. "Miss Amidala, would you like for me to put your suitcases in your room?" I smiled, hiding my irritation. "No need for formalities Y/n, a friend of Anakin's is a friend of mine." She replied. Friend of Anakins, nice. "Ofcourse." I gritted through my teeth. Because of my so-called 'rude' action Anakin cleared his throat. I shot him a look and rolled my eyes. Just as I was about to bring Padmé's suitcases to her room she spoke up again.

"We should take my parents yacht for the night, the view on the lake is amazing with the stars shining!" Excitement spat of her. "Padmé, that is too dangerous, we can no-" "Yes! That's an amazing idea actually, that would be lovely padmé, thank you." Anakin cheered. The man didn't even let me finish my sentence, which was kind of logical since we were getting really really done with one another. What am I even saying? I could never get enough of him and his adorable, charming, breath-taking smile.

"Fine but only for tonight."

_________________________

I close my eyes feeling the hot summer wind blowing through my hair. I lean over the railing to open my eyes and see my reflection in the now pitch black lake. It was like that little slave girl from Zygerria looked back at me. A weak, full of emotion and used person. Tears rolled down my cheek thinking about him again, knowing we can never be anything. Besides, he has Padmé doesn't he? I could have snitched on him, telling the council about them. But I can't. I would never do anything to hurt him, I'd rather have a lightsaber pierced through my heart. I'm crying as quietly as possible.

Suddenly I felt a shift in the force, and a warm presence stood next to me. I wipe my tears as fast as I can. "Y/n?" Skywalker placed his warm hand on my shoulder, "Are you alright?" "I am, thanks." I smiled weakly. "You're not, are you? Tell me what's going on." He demanded. "No, really Ani, I am okay." I said. "Come on it's only me you're talking to, Padmé's gone to bed already." He beamed and turned me around to face him. He raised his hands and cupped my face, wiping away my tears. No, this needed to stop. This physical touch was making it just worse, but what was I supposed to do? 

I stared into his eyes and my heart beat faster than ever before. "It does not matter Ani, Jedi can't have attachments." My words clearly hit him, because he stepped back and let go of me. "That explains everything" He muttered, "You're in love with me." All he did was stare at me and watch me grow red. "Listen Anakin, let's forget this ever happened. My life duty is to become a jedi and that brings consequences. I would give you all the stars, my life even. But not in this reality. Besides you have padmé and-"  

Suddenly an explosion of butterflies entered my stomach, Anakin pushed me against the railing of the yacht and interlocked his soft lips with mine. From shock I grabbed onto the railing, but as soon as my nerves calmed and he grabbed my waist I gave into the kiss. I never wanted it to end, but I knew it was wrong. As his hands traveled me up and down I broke our kiss, and we both caught our breaths. "Ani we can't" I looked at my feet, "You can't do this to padmé and we have rules." My own words hurt me. "I don't love padmé. Every single thing you've seen between us was purely platonic, because she isn't the woman I love." He explained as he stepped closer, "Y/n L/n, you are the most talented, beautiful, smart and kind person i've met in my whole entire existence. I've been dreaming about you since the very first day we saw each other." Anakin's hands now laid back where they were, on my hips. 

"Please say something." his nerves grew, I could sense it. I knew I shouldn't have, but I gave in. I kissed him back with all the passion I had, finally releasing my need and attraction for him. My hands explored his hair and he lifted me up to sit on the railing, closing my legs over his hips. As I slightly opened my mouth he took the chance and slid his tongue in. Our tongues synced perfectly. Oh how I have been longing for this. When we broke apart once again we leaned our foreheads against each other, which didn't take long because Anakin started kissing down my jaw and neck. I held back soft moans by biting on my lip. "Don't be shy darling, let me hear your pretty moans." He said in between the kisses. "What.. What if padmé-"

"Words, y/n." Anakin hit the sweet spot in my neck. "What if padmé.. argh, see us?" Anakin stopped placing hickeys over my neck and brought his lips to my ears. "Then she'll know just how good I, and I only make you feel." He whispered, and I could feel myself getting wetter every second. I felt his lips curl into a smile against my ear, and before I could do anything Ani pulled me off the railing and carried me in bridal style to his room on the yacht, luckily for me not close to padmé's at all. 

He gently laid me down on the bed and locked the door. When he turned back to me his grin was wider than ever before. "I've been longing so long for this, you know?" He spoke as he crawled onto the bed above me. "And see, it paid off." He pecked my lips. "Now, are you going to be an obedient girl for me?" I nodded to him, needing his touch. I moved my hips a little. "So eager for my touch." and with that, Anakin placed hickeys all over my neck again, but this time he sat above me, with my legs in between his.  Anakin got off me a few minutes later, and I could feel my underwear pooling by now. "Undress for me love." I did as he ordered me to, and fuck how he did was hot. I sat up and took off my belt and overtunic slowly, putting on a show for the handsome man in front of me.

Then I took off my undertunic and pants leaving me in my lingerie. I sat on my knees with my hands within my thighs. I watched Anakin bite his lip lightly checking my curves out. "You're beautiful." He whispered and placed his mechanic hand around my throat lightly. "To bad I am going to fucking ruin you." I smiled at him, "I'd like to see you try, master Skywalker." 

As a wolf hungry for its prey he unhooked my bra with his flesh hand and let go of my neck. He kissed down from my chest to my stomach and stopped right above my vagina. I let out a whine of need, eager to be touched at any sensitive point. "Such a needy Jedi, aren't you?" He smirked. "Only for you." I toyed back. "I want to hear my name and moans out of your mouth darling." "Only needy for you, Anakin. Please just fuck me!" "Good girl, have patience." He praised and started to suck on my breast, while massaging the other. My moans filled the room and so did soft ones of his. I felt his bulge through his pants and stroked it, making him moan a tat harder. 

I pushed Anakin from me and topped him. He bit his lip and placed his hands on my hips, wanting to go between my thighs. "Look who is a needy Jedi now." I teased and kissed him. He chuckled and we made out again, only this time I helped him undress. When I reached his boxers I slightly gasped at his size. Seeing this pride filled him. I pulled him from the bed and when we stood he took off my panties for me. "So wet for me." He said as he placed his hand on my fold, making me gasp. He planned to toying with me more because he removed it immediately. I calmed my arms around his neck, "Ani, please." I moaned out. "Please what, y/n?" "Fuck the absolute crap out of me, please." I seductively whispered to him. He didn't hesitate tho, as he positioned me ready on the bed a second later.

He rubbed his dick against my pussy, feeling my wetness. We both moaned out loudly at the physical touch we've been wanting from one and other for so long. "Are you ready my beautiful?" "For you, always."  And he entered. A loud gasp escaped my mouth as my tight walls adjusted to his big size. He moaned and pulled out again slowly. "Fuck you're so tight." Anakin yelped and started thrusting in faster and faster. Loud moans filled the night and by now I was sure Padmé had woken up from it. "Fucking stars- Anakin I'm gonna come!" I yelled out as my nails dug in his soft skin, "Keep doing that." I whined out.

"I'm going to come, oh Y/n." His lips kissed down my jaw. And then a wave of butterflies slid through my body and the sweetest, hardest groan filled the room followed by Anakin's. My eyes rolled back and my mouth opened slightly. His juices filled me up and we placed foreheads against each other. "I love you Y/n." He muttered out of breath. "I love you too Ani." I smiled and kissed him. Anakin got out of bed and walked to the tiny bathroom attached to the room to return with a towel. He cleaned himself and I, and laid down next to me with a peck on my lips. And so we peacefully fell asleep, hugging, drifting away together.

[justmybookthots]

City of Bones

Yo, I first read this book way back in secondary school. I must have been thirteen or fourteen at the time? So it's been… not gonna reveal my age, but it's been well past a decade.

I never really loved it that much as a teen—I mean, I liked it, but I wasn't crazy over it, or anything. I was more into the Virals series as a teen. Or Skulduggery Pleasant.  Or Maximum Ride but we don't talk about that.

My impression of it has kind of soured over the years because of the cheap/budget-looking ass TV series that came out. Anyways, I'd washed my hands of it until I saw that Cassandra Clare WAS STILL writing this series and milking the heck out of it. And yet SOMEHOW, it's still trending? Chain of Thorns was all over BookTok for a while, and admittedly, I was impressed by the longevity of her series. By Jove I thought everyone should be over it at this point.

Point is, I can't read Chain of Thorns and figure out why the heck it's so popular because I couldn't (and can't) for the life of me remember anything about the worldbuilding of this story. It's been over a decade. T_T

So I thought to myself: well, I might as well reread the first book. I braced myself for a world of cringe and…

It wasn't that bad?

Like, if you asked me to choose between this or Fourth Wing, it'd be this. I don't consider this a bad book, to be honest? Neither was it great, or anything, but all in all, I had a good time reading it even though YOU NEED TO KNOW HOW WARY I WAS GOING IN. I do have one thought at present: while the vocabulary in this book is pretty standard to me now, there was no way teenage / 13-year-old me had any idea what half the words here meant, lol. 

Things I didn't love:

Simon. He felt very extra and out of place the whole book. The only worthwhile contribution he made was shooting the skylight. Prior to that, he spent his time following Clary because he, uh, cared about her or something, then immediately switched his focus to Isabelle and mooned over her for half the book. Then later it turned out he was just making Clary jealous but I was like, boy. Get a life. I can't believe Jace and Clary risked their necks to save Simon the Rat (this is not me being mean. He literally turned into a rat). I'd have just left him with the vampires if I'm being honest. And Simon turning into a heck of an ingrate because he found her kissing Jace was so friggin' weird—somehow it's okay for him to flirt with girls to make her jelly, but her kissing Jace? Yeah, she's a bitch, even though she AND JACE risked their lives to save his rat ass.

The tone of the story was weird. So weird. Like it switches from dead serious to the Shadowhunters being like: "Yay! We're gonna find the Cup. This is going to be so fun!" and Jace / Isabelle just letting Simon hang around them because why not? It feels like teenagers going on an edgy adventure which kind of reduced the stakes for me. Thankfully, the tone switched to a more serious one later on.

The denouement was a little rushed regarding Alec and Isabelle, especially the former. I still don't get why Alec suddenly decided to accept Clary when he hated her guts before. It's not like Clary did anything impactful that was directly related to him. 

Did not like the "other girls" hatred Clary felt towards Isabelle, who didn't really do anything except look hot? What's wrong with looking hot? But the good thing is that so far, Clary only thought those thoughts and didn't act on her dislike towards Isabelle. On the surface, she was mostly pretty civil.

The angst Jace felt when he saw Simon in Clary's room was, um. I mean he was pretty quick to jump to conclusions and go the whole dramatic teenage route of "My life is ending because she had another guy in her bed all along". I couldn't really take his angst seriously.

A little random but: You're telling me a bunch of Shadowhunters didn't have driving licences/a car and needed Simon to drive them to Clary's house to get the Cup. I can't.

A friend pointed out that this story had some Harry Potter influence (Cassandra Clare had apparently written HP fanfic that inspired this?) and I can't unsee certain things. Jace is very much a Draco. Simon is really a mix of Ron and Harry (looks like Harry, personality more like a Ron. No wonder I can't stand him, lol. Spoiler: I hate Ron's guts). And Valentine and his Circle ARE SO Voldermort and his Death Eaters. Still, it's fine. I'm not super nettled by it. The concept of originality has always been a fine line anyway, and it's more about execution to me.

Sometimes Jace's banter was a little too much. And most of the time, Simon's banter was just annoying. I'm just a Simon-hater, can you tell?

Things I DID like:

The twist with Hodge. Didn't see that coming.

I did like the prose. It's very pretty.

Clary doesn't magically become a powerhouse combat badass, which… realistic. I like that.

The twist about Jace and his father. One thing I truly forgot after I read it years ago (or maybe I never really knew?) was that Valentine WAS the man that had raised Jace as a child. They were the same person. Valentine just assumed Michael's name. That said, I do know Jace is a Herondale, and some guy called Sebastian is Clary's real brother, so I want to know the real truth because I can't recall anything else. That will only be revealed in future books, not this one, so I'll see if I get in the mood to continue. 

MAGNUS. HE WAS MY FAVOURITE AS A TEEN AND HE IS STILL A SCENE-STEALER IN THIS BOOK. I may just read the sequel mainly because I want to see him and Alec. 🙂

My brain is kind of puttering. In any case, I can't be bothered to flesh out my review further for a book I'm reading as my literary form of 'trash reality TV' of the day. The book was fine, better than I expected, and I'll still be keeping the four stars I rated this book years ago. That's remarkable in its own way, really. (Edit: I went to check. I'd rated it three stars. Well, I'll keep that, too. Lmao.)

- 8 Nov 2023

[betyourue]

okay, let me just say this:

It's so interesting how KinnPorsche's relationship started with a huge mistake: having sex under the effects of an aphrodisiac.

Let me elaborate about this:

*I didn't read the books

*I'm just a casual viewer of the series

*My only purpose is to comment the fictional story as what it is

Kinn feels a special attraction towards Porsche because his bright personality and how he lives recklessly and finds a way to be happy under any circumstances. Also, Porsche is someone who is free (even if he's sinking in debts), he has the chance to build up his own destiny and plans to do it. In some way, Porsche is what Kinn wishes he could be. Kinn is completely stuck in the family business, he lives with the fear of losing someone he loves, trusting someone too much or dying. Everybody wants him dead, so he can't trust anyone, and this isn't something new for him, this has been like this his entire life.

Beside what he wants for his own life, he seems to be the only man on the family who is qualified to take his father's place. He needs to prove his dad he can do it and control his emotions and his impulses so he doesn't make mistakes. As we all know, his self control isn't the strongest, so it's very hard for him.

Kinn doesn't really have anyone beside him, every person around him keeps a business relationship with him, even his father. So, the only person who is closer than that is his toy boy and he has to pay for his company and probably doesn't really care or like him that much. It's all fake.

Kinn finds Porsche physically attractive too, and finds his personality completely strong. Kinn is very afraid of him.

This is why I guess Kinn can't be completely honest or intimate with Porsche unless he's drunk. That way he feel less exposed or weak, that way he feels like he's in control.

Kinn is the weaker of the two. He feels himself defeated by Porsche and that's why his whole life is out of control since they met, he can't control his impulses and that's why he fails to replace his dad properly, and he can't stand up for himself and that's why he never dared to disobey his dad and accepted this life he doesn't want.

Finally, we arrived to the point of this whole post: the main conflict.

Kinn likes Porsche in a special way and he knows that could be used against him, and he probably feels guilty that Porsche has to suffer the consequences of that. Because of that, he feels the need to take care of him after he vomited. Kinn just wanted to help him clean up, he didn't have any sexual thoughts but he is so damn weak. He knew it was wrong, that it wasn't the best time, but Porsche (under the influence) was begging for it and Kinn couldn't resist even if he tried. He acted like an animal, he lost himself for the time they had sex, he was wild and passionate.

When he finally wakes up and understands what happened he feels so guilty and upset. Even when he tells Porsche about "saving him" last night you can tell he feels so fucking hypocritical because he didn't save him, he did what he tried to save him from.

Porsche feels humiliated, hurt and abused. Kinn feels guilty and hypocrital. Both know they should stay away from each other. They just can't.

Porsche felt something special that night, he can't erase that. What he really hates about that night is that Kinn took advantage of him. He can't really trust him because it seems like his attraction towards him is "uncontrollable"... And at the same time, he feels emotionally dependent of Kinn. He hates him but still wants to be special to him, because Kinn is special to him.

Again, the huge mistake is the key of their relationship.

Their relationship is based on impulsive actions. It's meant to be reckless and passionately. What they had that night was so damn intense that it became addictive: when they are high on themselves they feel the happiest even if that means they sacrifice the reality. And when they are apart they can't get any satisfaction.

What will stick them together would be the craving of feeling what they felt that night again.

It kind of hurts, damn!