#and and thinking that it means they will survive this together

[gsirvitor]

I want the people defending Nintendo's current lawsuit against Palworld to think about the potential damage it will cause if Nintendo wins.

Nintendo isn't suing over similar Pal/Pokemon designs, meshes, or anything like that, they are suing over game mechanics, meaning that if they win they set a legal precedent that people can own game mechanics.

Meaning the creation of games would come to a halt, as no one could use healing, survival crafting, certain weapon and combat systems, magic systems, gone, all of it will be held behind copyright, or similar laws.

No one can create a new work inspired by the old, as the old would be strangling the potential of the new.

Instead of suing Palword, why doesn't Nintendo use that money to make a better console, or better games, or hell, improve their shittily put together recent game.

I'm just saying, Nintendo may very well kill gaming as an industry, and this will specifically hurt indie devs.

[mcflymemes]

"I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU" PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

you expect me to just carry on without you?

you're the only one i'll ever want.

they don't know me like you do.

i knew i needed to see you again.

everything makes sense when you're near me.

it's you, or it's no one.

i'll do everything i can to give you the perfect life.

please give me a chance to prove i'm the one.

life's just not worth living if you're not in it.

what you and i have... it's special. it's more than special.

can't you see we're meant to be together?

you're my soulmate.

there has to be something i can say to convince you to stay with me.

but i don't want you to leave.

you changed my whole world the day i met you.

the last thing i want is a life without you.

i can't go another day without you.

please stay beside me.

i made a mistake when i left you. i realize that now.

you're the reason i fought as hard as i did.

no one compares to you.

you can't leave me.

i tried living without you. worst time of my life.

i don't ever want to know what life is like without you.

you're all i have.

they don't touch me like you do.

you're the only one for me, i've decided.

what will it take for you to stay here? with me?

nothing makes sense when you're not here.

you mean everything to me.

all right, i'll come right out and say it. i need you.

if you want me to get down on my hands and knees and beg, i will.

it's you that i want.

when i first saw you, i went "oh. that's the person i'm going to marry."

i don't feel safe when you're gone.

i think i was made with you in mind.

it's only you. it's only ever going to be you.

i wish you would stop trying to push me away.

ever since the day you walked into my life, i've been forever changed.

you have no idea your effect on me.

i want you in my life.

i'm going to fight to keep you in my life.

they can't take you away from me.

nothing can tear us apart.

tell me you want me the way i want you.

right now, i just want you close to me.

i never would have survived that had it not been for you.

i'll never love anyone the way i love you.

i don't see other people. i only see you.

you're the one that i want.

what's the point of life if you're not here with me?

don't go where i can't follow.

the longer we're apart, the more sure of it i am. you're it for me.

i think of you all the time, actually.

pretty sure i've been thinking about kissing you since the day we met.

you're my home.

do you believe in soulmates?

when we're apart, nothing makes sense.

that's why i want you here with me.

we're stronger together than we are apart.

[starreyblueberry]

Timmy turner voice in college: Nah I wasn’t really allowed to have pets growing up. WAIT- NO WAIT DUDE I used to have these two pet beta- goldfish?? I’ll be honest I don’t remember what species they were. I don’t even remember where they came from! They just kinda showed up in my room one day. I think my parents bought them?? Or I did?? Who knows- anyway they were in this super small fish tank- like those round ones you’d see on TV, which looking back must have been hard for them, they had a tiny castle though that they would always hide in, so they made it work. What’s crazy is- and I still think about it to this day- I used to take them everywhere WITHOUT A LID! And I mean Everywhere. To the park, to the movies, hell even on road trips I would just hold them in my like tiny kid arms as the car would bump- “Lol how did they not die??”

Dude they were like immortal I swear. They were able to survive being flushed down a TOILET one time. I don’t have any idea how I got them back. They also had a baby fish together, so I’m shocked I kept all 3 alive for so long. I would also talk to them all the time turns out? My parents told me how they would catch me in my room just shouting nonsense at them. I had no idea I even did that, but to be honest a lot of my childhood is kinda blurry, it’s just insane how I kept my fish alive for so long when I did all that reckless shit. “Do your parents take care of them now?”

Oh they died on my birthday- Horrible birthday gift I know! I wasn’t surprised though it felt expected? I don’t know. I didn’t even see them die my parents just told me the next morning haha… yea um.

Oh uh- sorry I don’t know why I’m crying.

They were just fish right?? I mean who cries over their fish…

I- I’ll be right back I need to use the bathroom sorry.

[mingtinys]

in a thousand lifetimes

pairing : choi seungcheol x gn!reader

hurt / comfort , angst , mafia leader!scoups au

warnings : language , descriptions of blood , mafia themes

word count : 3.5 k

requested ? no

a/n : there's just something about the domestic side of mafia au's that i just love so dearly . secretly soft and fragile mafia leader crying in the arms of their loved one >>>>>>> ruthless and cold mafia leaders .

The day you stood by Seungcheol at the altar, you promised a myriad of unconditional vows, as did he. For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health— until death do you part. To love him without doubt and cherish the heart he had so willingly placed in your care. You swore to cradle it with gentle hands; to keep it safe from shattering until the very last beat.

You were prepared for that. Excited, even.

But as Seungcheol limps through the entrance of the home you've built together, you feel your confidence in that pact falter for the first time. Perhaps you'd missed something in your vows. The part that told you what to do when the love of your life comes home stained in red. From his white button-up to his polished shoes— even his sweet, sweet face— tarnished.

You don't want him to hear the way your voice trembles. But God, that stench. That pungent scent of iron coats your throat and you can't help the way it constricts to keep the subsequent wave of nausea at bay.

"Cheol?"

His head snaps up at you like he's just now realized where he is. Glazed-over eyes connect with the wood floors you'd spent an hour mopping, then to his shaking hands painted in crimson, before that stale gaze finally lifts and meets your own.

"Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head.

"Seungcheol..." You take cautious steps his way, like how one would approach a wild deer. "Who's blood is this?"

Tears are in his eyes, but his face remains rigid. Like his brain is stuck in survival mode, but his emotions are leaking out.

"Chan's."

The boy's name hits your ears like venom. Sweet, gentle, kind, Lee Chan. The youngest intern under Seungcheol's leadership, you'd met him once at a company dinner. You don't think you've ever met someone with such a heart of gold. And it's a little hard to imagine you could be staring at all that's left of him. "Oh my God, is he okay? What happened?"

Seungcheol's face twists at your questions, some memory pulling at his brows and forcing his eyes shut. They open with fresh tears and the first ounce of clarity cracks through his otherwise dazed state.

"He's in the hospital—" You see the words catch in his throat. His fist repeatedly pounds against his thigh and his mouth hangs open until the words finally come. "It's my fault. He's just a kid, this is all my fault— he shouldn't have been there. They shouldn't have been able to get to him. It was too dangerous, he wasn't ready."

Nothing of his fragmented words makes any sort of sense. You've never seen him like this, so frazzled, so pitiful, so... broken. The sight of it twists your heart, contorting in your chest to such an unnatural degree there's a physical ache.

So, despite the nausea burning your esophagus and the screams of protest deep within your bones, your arms open and gravity pulls Seungcheol into them with labored steps. His knees buckle instantly at the contact and it takes every ounce of strength in your arms to catch him. Letting yourself sink with him to soften the fall; even if that means your knees land with a painful thud, already able to feel purple bruises blossoming from the impact.

Because you love him.

Because you vowed not only for better but for worse as well. And vows are only as good as the turmoils they prove to withstand.

Calloused hands grip the sides of your shirt. You try to ignore the stains they leave, pushing your focus onto the man before you on the brink of hysterics. His forehead falls to your chest, and that's when the most wretched sobs you've ever had the displeasure of hearing begin. Loud and sharp, like the blade of a sword, as they slice through the eerily still night.

A chill creeps in from where your knees connect with the hardwood and crawls up the length of your spine. It nests in your mind and metastasizes, igniting alarms in that little part of your brain that warns: you should be scared. Though it doesn't grant you the knowledge of what.

"Baby, what happened?" You ask and recite a silent prayer the answer to that is not him.

He sobs out an unpromising, "I can't."

"Seungcheol, there is too much blood for that shit. You need to tell me what the hell is going on." Your eyes are starting to burn with the flood breaching your lashes, unsure how much longer you can force an ease into your tone.

You need him to just spit it out. Before your heart explodes.

You steady his head between your palms and swipe at the blood spatter decorating his jawline. It just smears, mixing with his tears and tinting more of his cheek in a dull brownish-red. Seungcheol looks at you with eyes that scream please don't hate me and you don't know but... you know. Enough that when the confession finally pours from his lips, the shock doesn't totally shatter your ribs on impact. Instead, the words slowly seep into your skin and enter your bloodstream like a bitter poison.

Suddenly, minuscule details make much more sense, revealing the full picture like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The nights he doesn't return until the sun breaches the horizon. The general air of mystery around his job and the "family business" he took over years ago. How insistent he had been with you learning some type of self-defense. All the way down to the dried blood that lingered under his fingernails.

You should be levels more upset than you are at his confession. Any normal person would be. He lied to you, for years. Hid a secret so large it could easily blow a crater in the earth should the measly stilts it balanced on collapse. Yet, the anger you feel doesn't boil over into a blind rage. It stirs with concern and simmers until it has been diluted into nothing but the type of anger that can only be fueled by love. It comes with the terrifying revelation that the person you love most in this world, could've been stolen from you at any moment and you would've been none the wiser as to how. It makes you want to hold him a little extra in the mornings, a little harder, closer.

Then, somewhere, in that tangled web of emotions fighting to reach the surface, there's an unexpected relief. Because one thing has been glaringly obvious since the day you met Choi Seungcheol. The reason he appears as such a pillar of strength relies solely on the fact that he shoulders the weight of the world alone. Rarely does he let his struggles reach his cheery expression. You can't help but think, now that you know, there's one less burden he has to carry by himself.

"Please don't leave me," Seungcheol rasps out. You'd nearly forgotten where you were for a moment. Forgot his face was still between your hands, that blood still smeared his cheek, and tears were still slipping from his lashes. But at this moment, as those weary earth-brown eyes search your face for an answer, you realize just how malleable your morals are when it comes to him.

"I love you." You confess, like it's the first time the phrase has ever left your lips. "Cheol, I love you more than anything in this world." So much it frightens you what you're willing to forgive.

But then again it doesn't. Because he's never been Choi Seungcheol, the city's most feared mob boss. To you, he's always just been Cheol. The man that nearly burned your kitchen down two anniversaries ago trying to make you breakfast in bed. Who pouts and whines when you haven't given him enough attention after work. Who's touch has only ever been as gentle as a Summer's breeze. And maybe you're naive, but you'd like to believe the Seungcheol that peppers your face with kisses every morning and begs for five extra minutes in bed is a truer reflection of his heart than his job.

With one final deep breath to steel your nerves and silence the brigade of questions swirling in your head, you press a long kiss to his temple— one of the only areas not tainted with red. The tension in his muscles visibly melts away at the contact and beyond anything he just looks... tired. You want nothing more than to let him rest in the safety of your arms, but he's still covered in Chan's blood.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" You coax him from the floor, never once letting your voice slip above a gentle whisper. He tries to protest, insisting he needs to be at the hospital with the others to check on Chan, but puts up absolutely no fight when you tell him that can wait until tomorrow as you guide him towards the bathroom.

You gather towels and fresh clothes and lay them out on the vanity. "Take your time, okay? I won't go far, promise." With one last reassurance, you leave Seungcheol in privacy to shower and clean the blood from his skin.

Alone now, the adrenaline in your veins dissolves, and the full gravity of everything finally crashes around you. The metallic scent lingering in the air, the drying blood on the hardwood, the feeling of impending doom that comes with a truth so heavy. It's too much, at least to bear in such a tiny apartment. You all but sprint out the front door, accidentally letting it shut with a hefty slam.

The warm Summer night air hits your skin and wraps around you like a security blanket. You inhale deeply, once, twice, thrice, and on the fourth breath, it feels like the oxygen finally reaches the base of your lungs.

You sit, for a length of time you remain ignorant to, at the bottom of the stairwell. Lost deep in thought until the buzzing of your phone reverberates from your back pocket. You look at it but— no caller I.D.

Answering it anyway, a sense of comfort fills you at the familiar voice.

"Jeonghan." You greet.

"I'm sorry to call so late," He says, voice languid. "I just wanted to know if Seungcheol got home safe yet."

"He did."

There's a long pause of silence. Just the steady beeps of a heart monitor on the other side of the line. Then, "Is Chan okay?"

"Yeah, he's sleeping right now. Doctors gave him some of the good shit to knock him out for the night." There's a hesitance to the way he speaks and you think perhaps he's weighing in his mind what excuse Seungcheol might have told you as to why Chan is even in the hospital to begin with.

"Jeonghan, can I ask you something?"

"I can't promise I'll have an answer, but sure." He's always been so calculated in the way he speaks, which makes sense to you now.

You chew at the inside of your cheek. "Seungcheol, he... He keeps himself safe, right?"

"You know." He sighs, matter of fact.

"I do."

"He's careful, smart, keeps his hands clean-ish. We all look after each other, he's about as safe as he can be." The man on the other end of the line yawns, and you wonder how long he's been up wondering if Seungcheol made it home before he finally called. That in and of itself should comfort you and prove Seungcheol has people who care about him when you're not around, but it doesn't. You don't think anything ever could at this point. Perhaps it was better not knowing the truth.

"That doesn't exactly make me feel better."

Jeonghan snorts. "I didn't think it would."

Another stretch of silence spans over the line for an uncomfortably long time. So long, you begin to think maybe the call disconnected. But that steady beeping is still there, quiet, but there.

Then Jeonghan speaks, his sudden words sending ice pricking through your veins. "You're an accomplice now, you know?" His voice carries no emotion. It's as if he's reading the words straight from an instruction manual. "Unless, of course, you turn him in."

Oh.

You hadn't thought of that.

"Would you?"

His question lingers in the air like smoke, suffocating your airways so much it feels like you might choke before you can even answer.

Never has the idea of betraying Seungcheol's trust ever been a thought in your head, much less an option. But he's right. Your newfound knowledge makes you just as much a criminal in the eyes of the law as if you had committed the act yourself. It's either fess up while you still can or guard his secret with, quite literally, your life.

Perhaps you were a bit hasty. It was easy to hold Seungcheol in your arms and whisper comforting words between his sobs. However, when it comes to your own fate, you're forced to reckon with the dread that washes over you like a bucket of ice, alone.

Still, you're embarrassed that not even a shred of doubt weighs your decision. Just an immeasurable amount of guilt.

"No."

"You don't sound so sure."

"It's a lot to process." You defend, trying not to let your voice waver too much under Jeonghan's scrutiny.

"I know it is," He relents, and suddenly, his voice shifts back to the soothing, angelic tone you've always been used to. "I'm sorry, I haven't even asked how you're feeling."

The conversation lulls in what you assume is Jeonghan leaving space for you to share if so you wish. You don't— knowing that if you were to loosen even a single thread tethering your mind in the realm of sanity, it would all unravel. You've only just begun to construct the brittle wall that separates your Seungcheol from the one covered in blood. If it were to take a blow so early and come crumbling down, you fear you may not have the strength needed to start over.

Your current position is precarious and emotions are already tricky— pouring them out to Seungcheol's best friend even more so.

"I'm fine. I should probably get back to Cheol." You say instead.

Jeonghan hums. "He's had a rough night." Steady beeps still pulse like a metronome in the background, mixing with a subtle chatter. "Let him know everyone is okay and if you two need anything, just call."

"I'll tell him."

"That means you too."

A voice calls Jeonghan's name and the line goes dead before you can say anything more. Not that you had much else left to say— or anything that would be news to Jeonghan at least. It felt like he knew more about your spinning mind in one phone call than you'd pieced together since Seungcheol stumbled through the door.

Seungcheol.

Seungcheol, who's been alone in your tiny apartment for who knows how long at this point. With nothing but his thoughts and a water heater that runs out far too quickly to comfort him. Your heart aches at the idea of him crumpled up in the basin of the porcelain tub alone.

Seungcheol, whom you find sitting at the kitchen island with his head in his hands— hunched over a steaming mug of tea— upon your return. His hair hangs down in damp strings, dripping onto his pair of comfort sweatpants, the ones he tends to gravitate towards when he's had a long day.

The door clicks shut behind you and his head snaps up with lightning quick reflexes. A wild look flashes in his eyes, but it melts away almost as quick as it came. His shoulders slump with relief and for what seems like an eternity, he just let's his gaze linger.

"I didn't think you were coming back." He rasps. His fingers curl around the mug, siphoning off some of its warmth to combat the slight chill in the air.

His hands are clean now— free of any trace of dark red— then again, they never really were. Probably never will be.

"To be honest, I wasn't completely sure I was." You're still some distance away from where he sits, a fact you're made painfully aware of by the way his eyes flit between you and the door. As if he expects you to flee at any moment.

"I would understand, you know?" His voice is as soft and genuine as it was the day he said I do. "I wouldn't be mad. My job, this life, it was never supposed to be your burden. You can walk out and I wouldn't—" His voice catches and he takes a swig of his tea, cringing at the temperature as it goes down. "—I wouldn't stop you."

You know he wouldn't. Because Choi Seungcheol is a good man. There would not be a ring on your finger if he wasn't. It's why you're so comfortable closing the distance that separates you two.

It's why you're so comfortable excusing all of his wrongs.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You should." He croaks. Tears gather at his waterline and on instinct, you wipe the first to fall away. But more continue to silently slip down his cheeks. Unable to catch them fast enough, you step between his legs and guide his forehead to your shoulder with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

Seungcheol lets out a shaky breath as your fingers trail down the nape of his neck to just between his shoulders, then back up again. You hold him. Just as you've held his heart for years. Delicate. Like handling glass.

"I love you," He whispers. "I'm sorry I lied, I— all I ever wanted was to keep you safe."

"I know."

He tilts his head back, staring up at you with damp cheeks and bloodshot eyes. "I don't deserve you."

You tuck a piece of hair that's fallen into his eye behind his ear. "I could find you in a thousand lifetimes and there wouldn't be a single one where that'd be true."

"I'd still spend every one of those thousand lifetimes making it up to you." His hands grip your hips, holding you steady, as if he's still scared you'll run away.

"You." You hold the underside of his chin so he can't divert his gaze for your next words. Your tone is a firm, bordering on authoritative. "Make it up to me by coming home."

Seungcheol nods, but it's not a good enough answer for you.

"Don't ever make me plan your funeral, Choi Seungcheol. Do you understand? You cannot do that to me."

"I won't."

"Promise me. Because I swear if I ever have to hear from Jeonghan that you're not coming home I swear I'll—"

Seungcheol takes your hand from his chin and pulls it flat against his chest. The quick but rhythmic beats of his heart calms your barrage of threats instantaneously.

"I promise."

The words leave his lips slowly. Each syllable is enunciated loud and clear, so the sincerity with which he says them can reach your ears without doubt. His words linger in the air and all you can focus on is his pulse. How terrified you are that one day it'll stop before your own. That there could come a night where your head rests against empty sheets instead of his chest. No longer lulled to sleep by its steady beating.

That thought rattles you more than any crime Seungcheol could commit.

It takes Seungcheol's thumb grazing over your cheekbone to realize you're crying. But then it becomes unstoppable. More worries spilling out in the form of tears. It's the not knowing that may be the end of you.

"I want you in this lifetime, Cheol. I don't want to wait until the next to live a full life with you. So I need you to keep that promise."

Seungcheol rises from his seat and brings you into his chest. Allowing you to hide away from the horrors of it all in his strong embrace. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to make it home to you." He reassures. And the sheer determination in his voice makes you believe him.

"And no more secrets, okay?" You mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt. "I want you to tell me everything."

"It's better if I don't." He whispers with a deep exhale. And you want to be more upset with his answer than you are. But he keeps rocking you side to side and pressing long kisses to your temple.

"All you need to know is that none of it comes before you." The sincerity in his voice is as prominent as it was reciting his vows. "Everything I've built. All the money and power in the world— I'd burn it all to the ground for you."

[faeruy]

One of the things I'm loving about Agatha All Along (among many, many things) is Lilia's sudden outbursts involving tarot. So far we've had two cards mentioned, and I kinda wanted to analyze how they're being used. Note; I'm fully just an amateur hobbyiest when it comes to tarot, I mostly use it as a backdrop to my homebrew D&D campaign cause I enjoy the symbology of it, so I may get things wrong.

So first up -

Three of Pentacles - This one is triggered when Lilia sees the 'Three Star' on her eviction notice and she writes down the names of the rest of the coven. This one is pretty straightforward - at its most basic Three of Pentacles represents teamwork. Kinda important when you're forming a coven. It emphasizes collaboration and shared goals, all the things Agatha is going to need to survive the Road.

What I find interesting is that the Reverse reading is equally important; lack of cohesion, conflict, poor motivation, and ego are all part of the Three of Pentacles Reversed. They are also very much Agatha's flaws, and her current predicament is a direct result of those flaws.

So all in all, it's use in Agatha All Along is pretty straightforward; Agatha needs a team, they need to collaborate and work together. They, especially Agatha, need to be wary of ego, selfishness and disharmony, or they will fail.

The High Priestess - This one is triggered the first time Lilia meets Jennifer Kale. This one is waaay more interesting in what it means, IMO. In it's upright position, the High Priestess invokes intuition, sacred knowledge, and the subconscious mind. It speaks of femininity, although maybe not quite as strongly as the Empress. It makes sense for Jen; she's the most overtly feminine of the witches, wearing soft, light pink when Lilia meets her. Her speciality is Potions, which speaks to having a good deal of specialized knowledge.

However, this is a case where on first glance, the Reverse is actually stronger in Jen. The High Priestess Reverse is all about the disconnect from intuition, withdrawal, and repression. Like a witch who has been disconnected from her magic because she's been bound. It's no wonder that Lilia pegged her as The High Priestess immediately, since she seems to represent at least parts of both aspects.

What's really interesting though is what we see in the third episode. It's a trial, especially tailored for Jen, and we see just how fully she represents The High Priestess. Her self-doubt, caused by the disconnect from her magic, is STRONG, because she doesn't trust the intuition and knowledge that still exist within her. They only survive when she starts to trust herself again. There's also kind of a neat detail about the fact that they all hallucinate - bringing their subconscious to the surface - which is just another facet of the High Priestess.

One other fun thing; I very much doubt this was intentional, but The High Priestess is 2 of the Major Arcana, which makes it the 3rd card (since The Fool is 0). This is the 3rd episode of Agatha All Along, but since the first 2 were shown together, this is the 2nd night of aired shows. I just think it's a fun connection.

It does suggest that the show is using the cards to do some decent foreshadowing. For sure at the end of the 2nd episode, I assumed that the reading wasn't that deep, and for the Three of Pentacles, it may not be. But after the third episode and the way Jen's connection to the card grew stronger, I'm more interested to see what other cards will be mentioned and what role they'll play in the show. I know Lilia is holding The Tower in one of the promo posters, and I can't wait to see if that ties into Lilia personally, or if it's just part of the general theme of the show. It could go either way - The Tower represents chaos, and one of the working subtitles of the show was Coven of Chaos, so it's possibly just a reference to that.

[sweet-villain]

Cause I Believe~ 1~ Older E.M

Summary : You move next door to Eddie Munson, and he welcomes you with his friends.

Author's Note : I had so much fun writing this.

Older Eddie

Boxes crowd the porch as you fumble with the last big box, the air thick with the smell of fresh paint and sun-baked wood.

A figure leans on the fence in the upstairs complex, a cigarette hanging loose from his lips. Eddie Munson. Scruffy beard, long brown hair dusted with silver, tattoos inked into his skin like a personal history. His gaze lingers, unsettling yet intriguing.

" Welcome to the shit hole" His voice carries a gravely edge but he doesn't turn to glance at you.

You offer him an uneasy smile, unsure about the way he stood, " Thanks?"

The air hung heavy. He takes long drags of his cigarettes, eyes moving slowly towards you and looking away quickly.

" What's with the box? You hiding some toys or your stash or porno magazines?" He chuckled, teasing.

" Just some junk" you shrugged.

" You must have a lot of junk, then"

Before you answer him, a group calls out his name rounding the corner. Your eyebrows knit together not really recognizing them.

" Oh! Eddie's got a new neighbor!"

Dustin nudges Mike. “Think they’ll survive living next to Eddie?”

“Probably not,” Robin chirps, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Eddie rolls his eyes but can’t hide the twitch of a smile.

“Don’t mind him,” Steve nudges Eddie, “he mostly bites.”

" I'm Steve" he offers his hands out. Steve had chestnut hair, long, some strand hanging from his forehead creating a shadow like and you can see chest hair peeking out of his shirt. He sported a scruff on his face and glasses. He was kinda cute.

" Y/N" you shook his hand.

" Stop flirting with my neighbor, Harrington" Eddie mumbles loud enough for Steve to hear.

Steve chuckled, raising his eyebrow. " Aw, don't worry Munson. She's all yours." Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie flicks the ash from his cigarette, crossing his arms defiantly. “Yeah, right. I’m just here to enjoy this shit hole of a town."

Dustin leans in, eyes wide with curiosity. “Seriously, though. Are you settling in? Or are you just gonna stare at Eddie all day?”

Your eyes widen at his question, red appears on your cheeks. You didn't mean to stare at Eddie. But he was really pretty, he must of had all the girls in high school.

“I just… You know, boxes.”

Robin snorted."Boxes? That's your excuse?" She chuckles, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If I were you, I’d be more interested in our resident rockstar over here.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes Robin shoulder playfully, " Hey, now Buckley." 

Robin sidesteps, laughter spilling into the cool afternoon breeze. “What? It’s true! Just look at those tattoos. You could practically sell tickets.”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. " You do know I know how to play guitar and sing." “Yeah? Never heard of a tattooed rockstar that could play a mean bone flute,” Dustin quips, nudging Eddie with his elbow. The laughter crescendos around you, an infectious rhythm that sets the tone.

" Where you all friends in high school?" you asked.Mike scratches the back of his head, glancing at the others. “More like we became friends through, you know, monster hunting and—”

“Way too many Dungeons & Dragons sessions,” Dustin interjects, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

" What did you mean monster hunting? Like hunting for animals or what?" Dustin beams like he’s about to share a great secret. “Not animals—like, actual monsters. We faced Demogorgons, Mind Flayers, all that fun stuff!” He gestures grandly.

" What?" you looked at them strangly. " What are those?" Eddie notices your eyes look wide a bit. Eddie chuckles, leaning against the fence, arms still crossed. “You probably think we’re a bunch of lunatics right now.”

“Maybe?” A nervous laugh escapes you, face still warm from the conversation.

" You all look nice and welcoming, but you look trouble Eddie.." Eddie lifts an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “Trouble? Nah, just misunderstood.” He offers a mock bow, the cigarette dangling precariously.

" I'm sure your great, Eddie" you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear while holding the box still. Eddie's smirk deepens, a playful challenge flickering in his eyes. “Great? That’s quite the compliment. Do I look great?” 

" I mean... fasinating.." Eddie leans closer, feigning a hurt expression. “Fascinating? That’s it? I was expecting ‘incredible’ or ‘magnificent.’” His lips twitch, barely holding back a grin.

“Right! I’m Dustin, this is Mike, and that’s Robin.” He gestures to each as if presenting trophies. 

“Dustin,” you repeat, catching his infectious enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you all.”

Do you need help settling in?" Steve asked as he eyed you up and down, already developing a small crush. “Uh, sure,” you reply, eyeing the remaining boxes stacked like confounding towers. “I wouldn’t mind some extra hands.”

“Count me in!” Steve beams, as if he thrives on teamwork.

" I have things to do" Eddie says, not wanting to get close to you even though you seem nice. He didn't want to get close to you, as in a pretty girl like you.. he just can't. He never gets the girl. Eddie flicks his cigarette onto the ground, the ember glowing briefly before extinguishing under his boot. He scoffs lightly, folding his arms tighter. 

“Yeah, right. Like you’re just going to sit back and let Harrington pullall the weight around here,” Robin challenges, her eyes narrowing at Eddie with a playful fire.

"I'm sure Eddie is doing his best estimate of a rockstar," Steve jabs, nudging Eddie with a grin. 

“More like a rock!”Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve, a mock frown plastered on his face. “Rude. Rocks have feelings too, you know.”

" Some special rocks then" You laugh, the absurdity of it bubbling in your chest. “Maybe a rock that plays guitar?”

Eddie feigns a dramatic gasp. “Excuse me, that’s way too close to my personal brand.” He taps his temple, mocking a deep thought. 

" Maybe those special rocks with have an album on your shelf as a trophy"Eddie glances at you, his eyes brightening for a fleeting moment. “An album? Now that’s not a bad idea. I could call it ‘Rock Solid.’” 

Dustin bursts into laughter, slapping his knee. “

“I’d buy that album,” you shot back, your grin widening. Eddie watches, surprise etching across his face, an unfamiliar warmth creeping into his expression.

Eddie shakes his head, the charming banter swirling around him, but it feels like an echo slightly detached from his reality. 

You swing open the weathered oak door to your apartment, gesturing for them to enter. Eddie lingers behind, his lean frame silhouetted against the twilight sky. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of silvery smoke that swirls in the cool evening air. His ring-adorned fingers grip the wrought iron fence, knuckles whitening with tension.

Stepping inside, your guests are enveloped by the warmth of your uniquely curated space. The apartment exudes a cozy, eclectic charm that defies conventional styles. Vintage photographs and vibrant art posters adorn the walls, each telling a fragment of your story. A plush, well-worn leather couch invites relaxation, its cushions adorned with an assortment of colorful throw pillows. The kitchen gleams with polished countertops and neatly arranged copper pots, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, hinting at the culinary adventures to come.

A scattering of houseplants clung to the sunlight, their leaves glistening with vitality. 

“Dude, this place is awesome!” Dustin exclaimed, eyes wide as he stepped into the cozy scene. 

Thank you, I love to design and play with colors" you tell him. “Colors really pop,” Mike nods, glancing around the living room before zeroing in on the wall hung with eclectic art. “Did you do all this yourself?”

" Yeah, most of it. My mother used to be a painter.." Mike’s eyes soften, a flicker of understanding shining through. “That’s really cool. It’s got character, you know? Feels warm here.” 

Robin eyes one of the paintings and it's you. " Did she paint this?" Your gaze follows Robin’s, landing on a vibrant portrait. You nod, the warmth of nostalgia washing over you. “Yeah, she did. It's one of my favorites. Captured me during a summer dance in our backyard.”

" I was ten there I believe. At least that was she told me. My mom alwasy thought I've held some magic when I danced, used to sing too..." you trailed. A soft smile dances across your lips, bittersweet memories surfacing. 

"Are you going to give Eddie a run for his money? Be the new musician in the neighborhood?" Dustin asked. You chuckle, shaking your head at the absurdity. “Hardly. My dancing days are behind me, and I’m no rockstar.” 

" You never know, you and Eddie could sing together one day." Steve suggests. Laughter erupts, threading through the air like a playful breeze. 

" I stopped singing when my mother died.." you glanced down at your converse. Silence coated the room like a soft blanket, the lively chatter fading into a hush. A weight pressed into the air, heavy with understanding.

" She was the only one to believe in me. She said I had the most angelic voice she's ever heard. I used to put my little sister to bed singing her a bed time song..." Steve exchanges a glance with Mike, the lively energy of their previous banter dimming. Dustin shifts awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, as if trying to find a lighthearted comment. 

" We're sorry, we didn't mean to bring anything up." You shake your head, a faint smile flickering back. “It’s okay. Just… sometimes things slip out.”

" That's also why I decided to move out, her funeral was... a month ago..." The room remains still, the weight of your words settling over the group like a thick fog. Dustin glances around, his youthful face painted with concern. 

"Hey, we totally understand," Steve says, his voice low and steady. 

“Whenever you’re ready to talk or just need to vent, we’re here.” 

You nod slowly, appreciation swelling against the ache in your chest. “Thanks. It helps, really.” 

" I hardly know you guys, too." The room buzzes with a peculiar intensity, a blend of sympathy.

“Yeah, but that’s how we roll around here,” Steve declares, leaning against the arm of the couch, arms crossed.

" We support one another" Dustin says. " We have each other's back" Robin adds. Eddie shifts his weight, the flicker of cigarette smoke dancing around him, creating an illusion of distance. Unbothered by the heaviness, he taps his fingers against his arm, a nervous gesture that breaks the stillness.

" Like a family" Eddie mumbles. Dustin leans back, nodding vigorously. “Exactly! And you’re part of it now. That is, if you can handle our weirdness.” 

Hey!" Steve plafully glared as he pouted. You chuckle, warmth spreading through your chest.

" It's just might be what I need" you mumble, " It's been a long time since I've really smiled.." Dustin's eyes sparkle, a hint of mischief swirling within. “Then we have our mission! Operation Make Y/N Smile starts now!”

You chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enYou chuckle at Robin’s exasperation, the tension in the room easing a fraction. “Okay, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I do need to sort through this stuff.” 

" By the way, what is a dingus?" you asked. Laughter erupts again, and for a moment, the heaviness lifts.

“Dingus?” Dustin’s eyes sparkle with glee. 

“I think it’s a term of endearment,” Mike offers, grinning.

“It means youa bit of a goofball,” Steve chimes in, winking at Dustin. “That applies to all of us at some point.”

" You should get it tattooed then, Eddie" you playfully chuckled at him as a joke. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting between mock horror and genuine intrigue. “A tattoo? Of ‘dingus’? That’s what I need, a permanent reminder of my goofball status.” He taps his chin, takingover his demeanor.

“I could design it,” you suggest, your voice light as you scan the room, feeling the infectious energy. 

"Oh boy" Eddie mumbles as he walks into your apartment closing the door. Eddie leans his back against the door, arms crossed, eyes darting around the room. He takes in the vibrant colors, the warped frames holding photographs, each seeming to whisper stories of laughter and joy.

" What's the matter, Eddie? It's not dark and gloomy to your taste?" you asked.Eddie straightens, feigning a look of horror. “What? No skulls? No velvet curtains?” He gestures dramatically around the room. “What am I supposed to do with all this brightness? Wear sunglasses?”

"That looks like more of my bedroom thing" you smirked. Eddie throws his head back, laughter erupting from him as he steps deeper into your vibrant world. “Your bedroom must be a whole other gallery, then. I’m just picturing rainbows and unicorns.”

" I don't like pink, and I am not exactly a girly girl" you glance down at your Metallica worn shirt and black shorts with green converse. Eddie raises an eyebrow, his grin broadening. “Metallica, huh? I can get behind that. At least your style has some edge.” He takes a step closer, his interest igniting as he surveys your eclectic taste. 

" Well I do ride a motorcycle. A harley" Eddie's eyes widen, a spark of genuine admiration flickering across his face. “A Harley? Now that’s pretty badass.” He shifts his weight, leaning in slightly. “What model?”

“Sportster,” you reply, a flicker of pride igniting in your chest. “Nothing crazy, but it gets me where I need to go.”

" I like you" Robin says as she pushes into your shoulder, " you're going to get along with us just fine. Another Eddie though." You chuckle, shaking your head. “Let’s not get carried away. I’m as much of a weirdo as you all are, but another Eddie? That’s a stretch.”

" Hey! I'm pretty great" Eddie puts a hand on his chest. “Sure you are, Munson,” Steve teases, leaning back against the couch with a satisfied grin. “Great at being a lovable weirdo. Best title ever.”

You open the box and it's full of your records you have collected. Vinyl records spill out like treasures from a forgotten past, their covers bursting with color and nostalgia. You can’t help but smile as you pick out a few.

“Whoa! You’ve got some classics here,” Steve says, " some of these are rare. Were you parents rich or something?" “Just lucky to find them at garage sales and thrift shops,” you explain, holding up a record with a tattered cover. “This one’s from an old-school band. My mom loved collecting vinyl.”

" Okay, stop being so cool" Eddie says. " You're going to give me a heart attack. I'm still young...well..you know what I mean..." You laugh, the sound bubbling over like a sunny stream. “Don’t worry, Munson. I’m not planning on stealing your title as the coolest in the neighborhood. That crown’s all yours.”

" Would you two stop flirting already? Get a room" Mike rolls his eyes. The teasing hung in the air like a well-placed joke, your cheeks warming at Mike’s comment. You exchanged a glance with Eddie, both of you caught off guard by the quip. 

“Flirting?” Eddie scoffed, hiseyes darting towards Mike, incredulity painted across his features. “Please. I don’t even know her last name yet.” He takes a deliberate step back, running his fingers through his hair as a way to regain his composure.

" And I'm sorta seeing someone" Eddie says, shrugging. “Sorta?” You echo, the curiosity bubbling to the surface. “That’s a peculiar way to put it.”

“Complicated,” he replies, leaning against the door, arms folded tight. 

" You can just say you have a fuck buddy" you shrug. "We aren't 12" Eddie’s smoky laughter dances through the air, a spark of surprise flickering in his eyes. “Damn, someone’s bold.” 

“Just keeping it real,” you respond, a playful glint in your gaze. 

" How about you, Y/N? Have anyone coming to swoop you off your feet?" Steve asks. The question hangs in the air, a sudden spotlight illuminating the room. A light flush creeps into your cheeks as you shift your weight awkwardly. 

" Not really, but riding a motorcycle like I have, has it's perks" you smirked. Dustin leans in, eyes wide with intrigue. “Oh, are you saying you’re dangerously cool? Like a movie heroine?” 

“Something like that.” You grinned.

Every guy I have came across, stares at my bike then at me, back at my guy and asks for my number." A ripple of laughter courses through the group, each taking turns to react. 

“Nice! That’s how you know you’re doing something right,” Dustin cheers, fist-pumping the air.

"One time I had gave this guy the number of my aunt who lives in California and she didn't understand what he said. She called me telling me some string cheese mop head was calling her in the middle of the night asking for a ride" you giggled. Laughter erupted in waves, the room brimming with shared stories and genuine delight.

“String cheese mop head, eh?” Steve cackled, nearly doubling over. “I’m stealing that one for future use.”

" He had spagetti like hair, greasy too. He didn't have enough balls either to check the name I have written down either on the paper" you snorted. More laughter erupted, the room vibrating with the energy of shared humor. Eddie leaned against the door, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Sounds like a true gem of a guy. Really raises the bar for us, huh?” 

" His zipper was undone too, I had a peek of the small carrot he had" Laughter bursts forth, an eruption of mirth that fills the room like music. Steve nearly collapses against the arm of the couch, howling with glee. “No way! You are not serious!”

" His buddy next to him, listening to our conversation forgot his pants at the bar. He had whales on his boxers, a leather jacket on and a red bandana on his head." The laughter swells, echoing against the walls. Steve struggles to breathe, clutching his stomach as if it might explode. 

“Whales?” Dustin wheezes between breaths. "What kind of guys did you attract?"

" Not just whales, when he turned to walk away, he had a tatoo that said " Mama".“‘Mama,’ huh?” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. “Now that’s a classy touch.” “Right? I mean, who doesn’t want a walking reminder of their mom on their butt?” You feign a serious tone, and Eddie bursts into laughter, the sound deep and genuine, pulling

Dustin opened the box and gasped seeing a whole system music set up. " You'r rich!" "Rich?" You cock an eyebrow, feigning offense as you retrieve a vintage record from the box. “This is thrift-store treasure hunting at its finest. Beats any of this overpriced junk you find in stores. You just need to look harder.”

" I'm an explorer and a finder" Dustin holds up a record, eyes wide with delight. “You’re telling me you just stumbled upon this treasure?” 

“Pretty much. The thrill’s in the hunt,” you say, your smile reflecting the joy of discoveries made over years.

" I didn't have any friends so this is all I did.." you scratched the back of your head. Dustin's expression turned sympathetic but curious. “What do you mean? No friends? With all this cool stuff, I figured you had a whole crew.”

" My father..." you gulped "...he was a drunk..." you closed your eyes ".... he beat me when I was home.. so I could not show anyone the bruises..." You looked away. " I didn't want to be home, so I went to hunt the best things I could find. Brought my mom things, used my allowance just that I could see her smile." You glanced at the ground. " I was too afraid for anyone to see me like that." Silence enveloped the room again, a stark contrast to the earlier warmth. Each friend’s gaze shifted, taking in the gravity of your words.

" He would beat my mom, but I'd cover her" your eyes closed rememebring the memories. “Things got better after he died..." “...but it took time,” you finish, the weight of the past unfurling in the quiet, palpable stillness.

" Please don't look at me like that" you begged. The weight of silence pressed against you, an unyielding void that seemed to stretch between moments. A cocktail of emotions brewed among the group, each one grappling with the reality of your words.

" Please.." A flicker of concern darkens Steve's gaze, his comforting demeanor faltering under the weight of your admission. He clasps his hands tightly in his lap, wrestling with the impulse to reach out.

" I'm not a broken record" Your voice weaves through the silence, but the weight of your confession seems to hang in the air like a thick fog. 

"It's life, and I'm a survior" The silence thickens, wrapping around you like a tender embrace. You draw a shaky breath, the words reverberating through the room, knitting together empathy and understanding.

Dustin wrapped his arms around you and placed his head on top of yours. The warmth of Dustin’s embrace felt oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket on a chilly night. His head rested against yours—light, reassuring—reminding you that you weren’t alone. 

“ We aren't going anywhere" He says. You lean into Dustin, grateful for the comfort of his presence, the chaos of life momentarily quieting down.

" Eddie lives next door, you can always talk to him" Dustin suggest. But something in Eddie didn't sit right. " I'm not going to be her tharipist" Eddie says. Dustin pulls away, shooting Eddie a look laced with indignation. “Come on, Eddie. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? She just needs some support.”

" No" Eddie growled. Eddie’s voice cut through the fragile atmosphere, tension coiling around his words like a snake. His arms remained crossed, but now they looked like a barrier. 

"She has a phone" Dustin’s eyes narrowed, disbelief washing over his face. “Eddie, seriously? It’s not just about talking to people on the phone. Sometimes you just need someone to listen, face-to-face.”

"She's just a girl" Eddie continues, " She is capable of calling someone" Dustin’s eyes spark with frustration. “So what? Just because she’s a girl, she doesn’t need support? Everyone needs someone to talk to!” 

" Not me" he grumbled.Dustin’s frustration flared, his voice rising with indignation. “You can’t just shut her out because you’re scared of getting close! That’s not fair!”

" I'm not scared, why would I want to get close to her? Just because she a cool collection of music? A motorcycle? Ha!" Eddie's words hung in the air, sharp and biting. You shifted uncomfortably, caught in the middle of this unexpected clash. 

" You're being too harsh, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie shifts, jaw clenched. “I’m just saying, people have their own shit to deal with. I can’t be someone’s crutch.”

" It's fine" you mumble, " I don't need some old smoking wannabe rockstar. Don't let the door hit you on the way out" you stood up from where you were sitting storming to your room and slamming the door. Who does he think he is? The thud of the door echoed in the small apartment, a sharp punctuation to your frustration. You pressed your back against the cool wood, eyes squeezed shut as you breathed heavily.

Fuck Eddie.

The walls felt like they were closing in, each breath heavy with frustration. You pressed your palm against the door, wishing for the chaotic swirl of voices to fade. 

" That wasn't necessary, Munson" Steve says. " Shut it, Harrington" Eddie says. Silence followed your retreat, the air thick with unresolved tension. The silence settled like a thick fog, wrapping around the group. Outside your door, muffled voices began to spiral, battling against the weight of what had just transpired.

“Eddie, what the hell?” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, disbeliefundeniable in his tone. 

Eddie leaned against the wall, his head tilted back, gaze distant. “What the hell did you want me to say? ‘Welcome to the family!’? She doesn’t need me.”Steve crossed his arms. “That’s not the point, Munson! She’s hurting, and you just—”

“Just what? Became her therapist?” Eddie cut him off, frustration lacing his words. 

" Don't use your dick, Eddie" Robin says. Eddie stood rigid, swallowing the weight of Robin’s words. The air thickened between them, alive with an electric tension. “I’m not trying to be a dick! I just don’t want to get involved in someone else's mess.”

You walked out of your room pointing a finger at Eddie, " I don't need you to be my friend or my therapist. I understand now why you can't keep a girl. I get it. " Your voice sliced through the lingering tension, brittle and frayed. Eddie’s eyes widened, the surprise washing over his features like a cold wave. His posture shifted, arms falling to his sides as you stepped into view.

" So tell me, why. Enlight me, princess " Eddie spatted throwing his hands. The room bristled with tension, a standoff brewing in the thick air between you and Eddie. His dark eyes narrowed, resentment flickering like embers. 

“Enlighten you?” you jabbed, anger fueling every word. “You think you can just stand there, looking all brooding and mysterious, and expect everyone to bow down? You’re not special, Eddie. You’re just another guy lost in your own mess.”

" Yeah, princess. That's all you got?" Eddie laughs. The laughter bursts from him, a hollow sound that reverberates against the walls, mingling with the tension hanging in the air. 

"You really think you know me?" Eddie sneers, his voice dropping an octave, the confrontation pushing the boundaries of the moment like a taut string ready to snap. 

" You probably never cleaned up after yourself, you reek of cigarettes and cheap smell coming from the trash can. When was the last time you brushed your hair? Look at that too, you're already getting old with all the grey hair. You're dick is probably wrinkyl too." Eddie’s laughter died, replaced by a sharp intake of breath as your words struck deep. The room fell into an echoing silence, the weight of your insult hanging in the air like a lead balloon. 

" Listen here, you brat" he starts, his voice low and steady, a dangerous calm seeping into the intensity of the moment. 

“Maybe I don’t clean up after myself,” he continued, eyes narrowing like a predator assessing its prey, “but at least I have friends." Your heart raced, the anger ricocheting in your chest. "Friends? Is that what you call them—people who watch you smoke yourself to death and enable your miserable attitude?" 

" My health isn't your business, princess" Eddie's words sliced through the stillness, a low growl that resonated with defiance. He stood there, unruly hair framing his face, tattoos shifting against his skin, a storm of emotions flickering in his dark eyes.

"You think your harsh words struck a nerve in me? Think again princess, I've been through a lot worse.." Eddie adds. His gaze bore into you, fierce and unwavering, challenging you to flinch.

“Worse than what? Stop being so dramatic, Munson." You glared back, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

" Try again, sweetheart. I dare you" his gaze darkens. A fierce silence settled like a dark cloud, thick with unspoken challenges. You could almost feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, daring you to dig deeper.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” You shot back, your voice unwavering, defiance twinkling in your eyes. “Let’s see who can out-terrible each other.”

" I don't have time for play time" he mumbles, rolling his eyes. His arms dropped to his sides, frustration rippling through his posture as he turned slightly away, still trapped in the conflict swirling in the room. 

" Did I hit a nerve? You ran out of words to say? Oh poor me" you dramatically put a hand on your forehead. Eddie's expression hardened, a flash of vulnerability battling behind the defiance. He fisted his hands at his sides, straining against the unwelcome wave of frustration that built behind his ribcage. 

“Enough with the performance,” he say, pointing a finger, " that mouth will get you in trouble." Your laughter slipped free, cutting through the tension. “Trouble? Please, I've been living in it long before I moved in next door to you.” 

Eddie’s jaw tightened, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability hidden behind bravado. “You are nothing but a brat." “Brat? Really? That’s the best you got?” You shot back, arms crossed defiantly.

Eddie leaned against the wall, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “It fits, doesn’t it? You probably never had a boyfriend dick you down good." Your breath hitched, outrage mixing with surprise. The bluntness of his words struck like lightning, charging the air between you. “Excuse me?” You narrowed your eyes, disbelief draping over your features.

“ Guys, stop fighting" Dustin say. " The both of you are adults" Dustin's voice sliced through the charged atmosphere, a plea echoing in stark contrast to the tension crackling between you and Eddie. 

“Yeah, adults who apparently act like children,” you shot back, your defiance barely holding back the sting.

" Sweetheart, you're acting like you never been laid. That's your problem. "The room tensed further, air crackling as if charged with static electricity. Emotions swirled like a wild storm, and the accusation hung in the air, sharp and biting. 

" Oh god, you two are going to be the enemies to lovers?" Robin pinches the bridge of her nose. Caught in the moment, you and Eddie shot her incredulous looks, both equally infuriated and puzzled. 

“Enemies to lovers? What, am I supposed to swoon now?” Eddie scoffed. " She's nothing but a little girl that needs her pussy fucked." The room exploded with silence. You and Eddie locked eyes, the air thick with tension, his words hanging like a dark cloud over the group. Anger flickered in your chest, a fire breathing life into your indignation.

“Such big words for such a boy like you, Eddie." The sting of your words wrapped around the room, silence falling heavy. Eddie’s smirk wavered for a second, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. 

“Boy? That’s all you’ve got?” 

" I don't think you even had a relationship ever in your life, Eddie. Did you ask someone out and they looked at you and said, no thanks, he's garbage? Oh poor you, " you taunted. Eddie’s expression darkened, the smirk faltering before vanishing entirely. A flicker of hurt glimmered in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a scowl.

“Wow, real original there.” He crossed his arms. 

" Let me guess, you find some girl in a bar or somewhere and take them to your unmade, unwashed sheets of a bed and fuck them with your little dick until they leave and your back to square one..." Eddie’s jaw tightened, the tension in his body palpable. A flicker of something shattered in his gaze—was it anger, embarrassment? You couldn’t tell.

“Wow, real clever.” He stepped forward, invading your space, shadows playing as he towers over you. You had to admit, he looked really hot right now. 

" Bite me" you looked at him with a sneer. Eddie leaned in closer, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I will.” The words rolled off his tongue, a dangerous blend of challenge and flirtation. 

" If the two of you are going to fuck, please let us leave first " Steve whined. Laughter erupted once more, cutting through the thick tension that hung like fog between you and Eddie. The absurdity of the moment seeped back into your bones, laughter bubbling up unexpectedly. Steve’s face morphed into mock horror, eyes wide as he coverd his ears.

" You two are disgusting staring at each other like your ripping each others clothes off" Mike shivered in disgust. Eddie stepped back, amusement dancing in his eyes, a smirk returning to his lips. “What can I say? It’s a hot vibe we got going.” He playfully flexed his arms.

" As If I ever would sleep with him" you scoweld. " I don't sleep with small dickheads who reek of cigarettes and doesn't know what clean sheets are. Eddie’s laughter faded, a flicker of something sharper taking its place. “Clean sheets don’t do much good if they’re just going to end up in a pile on the floor.” He shifted, crossing his arms. 

" What? Are you poet now? Are going to lay down the lines now?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed tightly, smirk returning with a hint of daring. “I could be. Got me all inspired, sweetheart.” He raised his eyebrows, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

" Look at yourself, Eddie. Your hair looks like it hasn't been brushed for days. You have drool in the corner of your mouth from looking at me too long" you flipped your hair with a smirk, " you reek and you have mud on your shoes." 

Eddie's smirk faltered for a brief second, and behind those dark eyes, you could catch a flicker of something—something like confusion, maybe hurt. But he masked it quickly, a defensive armor sliding back into place. 

" At least I don't talk too much and use my mouth for other activities" he smirks. 

" Ew! We are still here, you know?" Dustin groaned. " Eddie, I know your old and stuff but please.. " Dustin’s voice pulled the sharp tension from the room like a stubborn thorn, easing the simmering pressure for a fleeting moment. Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, an exaggerated sigh escaping his lips.

" Old? I have a stamina of a race horse. Just because I have few greay hairs, doesn't mean shit.." Eddie says. “Right, and I bet that ‘stamina’ is all in your head,” you retort, raising an eyebrow. Eddie steps forward, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Care to test that theory, princess?” 

" Again. We are in the room!" Steve shouts. " We don't need to hear you two." You roll your eyes at Steve, heart racing from the escalating tension. Eddie’s gaze remains locked on yours, an electric current buzzing in the air. 

Eddie hungrily looks at you, licking his lips. The heat in the room escalates, crackling with unspoken tension as you both stand toe to toe, unyielding and defiant.

" It's like we can smell you two. Sexual tension" Mike says. " Disgusting." The interruption seemed to spark another wave of laughter, but it simmered beneath the surface like an unspoken truth, charging the air between you and Eddie with an electric energy. 

" He smells like a trash can, no way he's getting near my bed or close to touching me." Eddie feigned a gasp, his hand clutching at his heart as if you’d dealt a mortal blow. “Trash can? Ouch, sweetheart. That’s cold.” 

" Go take a shower! A cold one at that!" Eddie squints, pretending to reel from your words, hand clutching his chest dramatically. “A cold shower? You’re trying to torture me now, Y/N?”

“Just trying to spare the world from your stench,” you shoot back. "God knows where your hands have been.." Eddie feigns horror, hands flying to his temples as if you’ve delivered a lethal blow. “My hands? Sweetheart, I’ll have you know they’re pristine. I only touch the finest things… like my guitar and—”

“NO! no need to hear anything anymore!" Dustin shouted putting his hands up. " I"m leaving, I don't know about you guys" he pointed to Mike, Steve and Robin. Dustin pushed through the door, shaking his head as he exited. “I can’t deal with this high school drama. I’m out!” 

“Yeah, good luck unpacking,” Steve called after him, barely containing his laughter. Robin follows knocking her shoulders into you, " I suggest you give Munson a bath yourself " she smirks. You chuckle, brushing her off with a light shove. “As if I’d waste my time on that.” The playful banter lingers, but the thick scent of unresolved tension still hangs in the air.

" You two are disgusting " Mike says. “Goodbye, Mike.” Eddie fires back, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he slides off the wall, an amused smirk etched across his face.

Eddie turns back to look at you as he stares at you with hunger and lust in his eyes. 

" Why are you looking at me, like that?" Eddie’s smirk falters slightly, surprise flickering across his dark gaze. 

“Like what?” he shoots back, defensiveness lacing his words, but the edge of tension still crackled between you two. 

“Like you’re about to devour me" Eddie leaned closer, the heat of his presence enveloping you as he tilted his head slightly, perplexity mingling with amusement in his eyes. “Maybe I am,” he murmured, his voice dropping low, teasing. 

" Eddie.." you warned. Eddie stepped even closer, the air thickening between you like a taut string ready to snap. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Afraid of a little... touch?” His smirk widened, each word laced with mischief.

“ Get your hands away from me" Eddie stepped closer, the space between you a charged battleground. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned forward, the scent of cigarettes and something inherently Eddie swirling around you. 

"Come on, don’t be scared," he says. 

" I'm warning you"Eddie leans in closer, just barely brushing against you, the energy between you crackling like electricity. “Warning me? What are you going to do? Call your biker buddies?” 

" I know karate" Eddie chuckles, the sound low and teasing, “Karate? You? Sweetheart, I’d pay to see you try.” 

“Try me, Munson.” Your voice trembles with defiance; the air between you thickens. 

His hand shoots out to brush your hair but before he does, you have hsi wrist in a tight grip. His wrist feels warm under your fingers, solid and unyielding. Eddie raises an eyebrow, surprise flaring in his dark gaze. 

" I told you" you challenged. “Damn,” he murmurs, a hint of admiration mixed with amusement dancing in his eyes. The gentle thrill of your defiance makes the corner of his mouth twitch upwards, like a wildfire igniting. 

" Let go," he pushes, but with all your strengh you push him towards you looking at him. " I warned you. Back off." Eddie's gaze flickers with a mix of surprise and intrigue. You maintain the pressure, holding his wrist firm, your hearts beating in unison, the space between charged like a live wire. 

“Wow,” he breathes. " You're something else, sweetheart." His admiration shoots through the air like a bolt of lightning, striking a nerve deep within. You hold his gaze, a mixture of defiance and thrill bubbling inside you. 

" Maybe you should think twice before challenging me" 

Eddie hums, smirking. 

" Fiesty" Eddie's smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“Feisty? That’s rich coming from someone who’s about to get his wrist twisted off,” you challenge. 

" You're too cute thinking you can take me down. I'm stronger, older and faster." A sly smile curved your lips, unwavering. “Stronger? Maybe. Older? Definitely. Faster?” 

Eddie leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your cheek, a teasing smile barely contained. “I’ve got you there, sweetheart."

You gasp how close he is, scrunching his nose pushing his head away. 

" You reek" Eddie flinches back slightly, feigning mock offense, but the gleam in his dark eyes reveals his amusement. “Reek? This is the scent of a rockstar, princess. A scent of a real man, not like Harrington smelling like a laundry basket." You scoff, unable to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Right, because we all want to smell like smoke and bad decisions.”

" You like me.." Eddie’s smirk widened, triumph glowing in his eyes. “See? You’re already starting to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively, though a smile threatened to break your facade. 

" You're into me, all of this" he points to himself. You huffed, arms crossed, but frustration battled amusement in your chest. 

“Please. This is hardly a fair trade—smoke and tattoos for sunshine and charm,” you retorted, an eyebrow raised defiantly. 

" I like my guys bigger and rougher" you add with a smirk.Eddie's laughter rang out, rich and unexpected, filling the air like music. “Is that so? Guess I must be lacking then, huh?” He straightened, feigning disappointment but the glimmer in his eyes danced with mischief.

" Guess so, grandpa" you teased. Eddie feigned a gasp, hand clutching his chest as if wounded. "Grandpa? Wow, that’s harsh. How do you even know I didn’t just fight the Grim Reaper last night for my youth?" 

" Because Eddie, you look like you lost a few battles" Eddie feigned a wounded expression, clutching his chest as if you’d delivered a lethal blow. “Lost? I fought the good fight, sweetheart. Just because I came out with a few more scars doesn’t mean I didn’t win.”

" I have deeper scars" you let his wrist go, looking away. Your gaze drifted to the cluttered floor, the assortment of boxes and memories strewn about like fragments of a jigsaw puzzle. Eddie noticed the shift, the flicker of vulnerability creeping back into your eyes. 

“ Sweetheart.." Eddie’s voice softened, the bravado slipping away, revealing a glimpse of understanding. He stepped closer, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that felt electric, almost grounding.

“Everyone has scars,” he said, his tone now measured, " but you're alive and here standing arguing with me and bantering, flirting with me." "Alive," you echoed, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. Eyes on the floor, you couldn’t shake the weight of the past. 

“Yeah, you are,” he pressed, stepping closer again, the space between you shrinking. He brushes your hair away, " I"m not a bad guy. But I am not going to let you get too close and treat me like I'm not a human being.." Your gaze flicked up to meet his, the intensity of his dark eyes holding you captive. 

" You're hiding yourself under the tattooes, the scars you say you have, the cigarettes, the music, all of it. " you tell him.

Eddie’s smirk faltered, his eyes glinting with something deeper, a flicker of vulnerability nestled beneath his typical bravado. “Hiding? Maybe,” he said quietly, the weight of his admission hanging in the air. 

" I bet if you cleaned up better, girls will like you" Eddie's brow furrowed, a flash of defensiveness igniting in his eyes. “Girls? Really? You think that’s all it takes?” 

" You would get your wrinkyl dick working" you chuckled.Eddie blinked, surprise flaring in his eyes before he burst into laughter, the sound rich and infectious. “Wrinkly dick? That’s a new one. You’re truly creative, Y/N.”

“ I mean your older than me, grandpa" you teased. Eddie rolled his eyes dramatically, able to switch from defensiveness to affected dismay with the flick of a wrist. “Older? Psh, I’m practically timeless. Can’t put a price on experience.” 

“ How many times you had sex then?" you asked, " Twice?" Eddie threw his head back, laughter erupting, rich and deep. “Twice? You’re cute, sweetheart.” 

“Cute? Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you shot back, crossing your arms. " I know your into me, Munson. That's why your still here.." "Into you, huh?" Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, a playful smirk curling his lips. “Right, because it’s not total agony standing in the same room as you.” 

“ I'd have you fall to your knees and you know it" The tension in the air shifted, electrifying the space between you. Eddie's smirk faltered for just a heartbeat before morphing into a mock challenge, his brow arching as he stepped forward. “You think so, huh? Pretty thing like you think I'm that easy?" “Easy? Hardly. I just think you’re all talk, Munson,” you replied, holding your ground, each word dripping with playful defiance.

" Oh, sweetheart. Don't play this game. Don't" Eddie closed the distance with a bold step, the smirk on his face morphing into something dangerously playful, eyes glimmering with mischief. “You’re really going to challenge me? This game you're playing? Because I play to win and I get it if you scared..." 

" I'm not scare of you" Eddie's smirk deepened, a glimmer of mischief lighting his dark eyes. “Is that so? Then why don’t we put your bravado to the test?” He stepped closer, his presence stealing the air between you.

“I think I got it..." you mumble, " You're afraid to fall in love..." you gasped. Eddie’s laughter faded, his expression shifting as the weight of your words settled between you like a heavy blanket. The playful energy morphed into something tenser, more fragile.

“Love?” he echoed, disbelief threading through his voice. “ that's stupid." Eddie scoffed, waving a dismissive hand as if your words were a filthy habit to be brushed away. “Love is just another way of getting yourself hurt.”

" Whatever helps you sleep at night" you shrugged. Eddie’s jaw clenched subtly, a flicker of something softening in his dark eyes. He stepped back, breaking eye contact for a moment, the tension coiling tighter between you like a winding thread ready to snap. 

“You think I want the puppy mushy love stuff?" Eddie asked. His voice was a low growl, underlined with an edge of frustration as he ran a hand through his messy hair, careless and wild. 

“Love is about connection and understadning-" Eddie cuts you off. " It's bullshit" he says. “Bullshit?” You echoed, incredulous. “You think it’s bullshit to feel something genuine?” 

Eddie’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, a fire behind his bravado. “Yeah, because it makes you weak." 

" Who hurt you?" You leveled your gaze at him, the question hanging in the air like a fragile thread. 

Eddie bristled, his facade cracking just slightly. “What are you? My therapist?” He shoved his hands into his pockets. 

" Your parents? Friends? High school crush?" Eddie’s eyes hardened, and he straightened, the carefree demeanor quickly replaced by a guarded shell. 

“Does it matter?” he asked, voice low. “Everyone has baggage. I don’t need to unpack mine for you, sweetheart.”

" So it's one of those" you nodded, understanding. “Good to see you get it.” His tone dripped with defiance, but the crack in his armor remained visible—a bittersweet reminder of the façade he wore.

" Do you ever let anyone in?" Eddie’s expression darkened, a mask of defiance shielding whatever fragility simmered beneath. “In? What does that even mean? Letting people in means inviting trouble.” 

" Don't you want connection? To be understood?" Eddie’s gaze flickered, uncertainty glinting behind his usual bravado. “You’re painting a pretty picture, sweetheart. But it’s hard to want a connection when everyone around you turns into lies,” he replied, a hint of bitterness.

" You really think everyone is out to get you, Eddie.." Eddie shifted, his expression flickering like shadows in dim light. “Not out to get me, no. But trust issues? I've got ‘em.” He leaned back against the wall, arms crossing tightly over his chest like a fortress under siege.

" Something we both have in common" you started to chip at your nail polish.“Common ground, huh?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing his voice. “What does that even mean for you? You just moved here, and we barely know each other. What could we possibly share?”

" Music, banter, a good conversation, understanding, a rough past, parents that were shit...." His brow furrowed, surprise painting his features. “So we’re both a couple of misfits, huh? You think that’s enough to build some sort of bond?” 

" You're scared to get hurt as much as I am too" Eddie's gaze flickered, something raw threading through his bravado as he stared back at you. “Scared? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for some buddy system.” 

" I'm not asking for frienship" Eddie’s brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and intrigue washing over his features. “What then? A fleeting moment? A couple of laughs between two broken souls?” His voice dipped into a lower register, laced with an edge that

" Maybe.. someone to drink with when you can't sleep, someone to sit in silence with.." Eddie's expression softened for a moment, his bravado slipping. “You think I want someone sitting in my silence?” He pushed off the wall, challenging yet inviting.

“Why not?” you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside. “Sometimes silence is louder than words. It can soothe the chaos, even if just for a moment.”

Eddie sighs as he shakes his head, " You don't understand, kid.." The air thickened between you, charged with unspoken truths. Eddie’s gaze hardened like stone, but behind the wall, you caught glimmers of vulnerability.

“Kid? Am I really that young to you?” Your voice dripped with playful sarcasm.

" You have that sparkle in your eye still, you're young... and too young to play with me.." Eddie says as his eyes flash something in them. “Play with you? Is that what this is to you, Munson?” you quirked an eyebrow, folding your arms defiantly. The earlier tension felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

Eddie chuckles, " I'm not going to end up fucking you.." You scoff, arms folding tighter against your chest, “Is that so? So you think I’m just another notch on your belt, huh?” 

Eddie’s smirk loses its edge, the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

" Sweetheart, I have more expirence than you. I know what I'm doing, have you even sucked a cock before?" You scoff, heart racing at the boldness of his question. “And you think that’s all there is to it? Just some stupid experience points?” 

“I’m just saying, if you want to play, play smart,” Eddie replies, " and if you don't, then don't waste my time." Your heart thudded, each beat echoing in the charged silence between you. “Waste your time? Is that what this is to you—a game?” 

Eddie leaned back against the doorframe, the tension coiling around you both like a plague. 

" You're difficult, you know?" He opens the door. The door creaked open, framing Eddie like a chaotic storm on the other side, hair tousled and mouth curling in a teasing smirk, but his eyes glimmered with something deeper—a raw honesty attempting to break through the playful veneer.

“ Are you really not going to let me see you behind the curtain?" Eddie chuckles, " You think there is one?" 

" I think you're pretty good at hiding yourself but your too scared of the world and the people that care about you" Eddie's expression hardened, his facade tipping dangerously close to crumbling. "Scared? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then show me," you challenged, stepping forward, watching as his bravado flickered before your eyes.

" Show me the real Eddie Munson" Eddie hesitated, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features as he weighed your challenge. The charged atmosphere thickened, each heartbeat echoing in the space between you. 

He scratches his head, " You don't want to deal with me, sweetheart. " “I might surprise you,” you countered, your tone steady, eyes locked with his, daring him to back down. 

" Why do you want to?" He asked. "Because I know there’s more beneath all that bravado," you responded, stepping a little closer, testing the boundaries as the air thickened with anticipation. “Everyone has layers, Eddie. You can’t hide behind attitude and tattoos forever.”

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is my RACK focused judgment free primer for heavy impact play. It covers every part of the body from head to toe and at no point does it say you can’t do something just the risks of doing so. I don't normally put warnings on my posts but most of my writing is fantasy, this isn't. I'm going to talk about any number of painful deaths and heaps more ways of becoming disabled.

In this primer "you" means the one doing the hitting, "victim" is the one being hit, and "tool" is the thing you're hitting with which could be a fist, foot, hammer, bat, anything. I'm writing it this way because its fun for me.

This primer also assumes you know the different types of impacts and how they affect the body, if you don't go look at my other writings.

Finally i take no responsibility for anything you do. All this information is what i could put together from medical journals and car crash reports if I've got anything wrong (and you can prove it) please let me know.

Enjoy

Head. With hits to the head, the two major concerns are concussions and neck injuries. A concussion occurs when a person’s brain impacts with the inside of their skull, this happens because the brain is suspended in fluid so if the skull stops or starts moving suddenly the brain will move out of sync with the skull. Symptoms of concussions can include headaches, confusion, lack of coordination, memory loss, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, ringing in the ears, sleepiness, and excessive fatigue. If your victim lost consciousness for any length of time and is having trouble speaking or understanding your words, you need to get them to the ER. There is no cure for a concussion but the best treatment is pain medication and activities that won’t tax the brain to give it time to recover. There are any number of ways to damage a neck, but generally it happens when a person’s neck is moved suddenly and violently or pushed past its limit. Minor injuries should heal by themselves within a few weeks but if unlucky pain and stiffness can last months or even years. For more major injuries, physical therapy or a neck brace might be necessary but only if the pain lasts longer than a few weeks. It’s also possible to hit someone hard enough to break their neck or fracture their skull but that takes a lot of force. All of these injuries can be avoided by supporting your victim’s head and neck by bracing their head against a surface or holding their head with your hand.

Jaw. It takes surprisingly little force to dislocate a jaw, you can do so with a good slap Dislocations are talked about in Note 3 at the bottom of this primer. Heavy bleeding from gums or a tooth that feels loose could indicate a fractured root. This is a fairly minor issue and if you see a dentist quickly they should be able to fix it back in place with no lasting damage. A tooth that has been knocked out completely should survive; get your victim to rinse their mouth out and rinse the tooth off and shove it back into the gap, and then have them see a dentist to make sure it’s properly seated and avoid chewing with it for a while.

Eyes. A fun combination of fragile and complicated. There's no first aid tips I can give you and it'll be real obvious if something is wrong. I will say you don't have to hit someones eye to give them a black eye, it’s bruising around the eye socket that matters. Also check Note 1 about the use of ice when treating injuries.

Nose. It’s more difficult than you think to break a nose. You definitely can with a good punch but you'll have to really commit. A broken nose isn't that serious (I've broken mine twice now) and isn't even ER worthy. If your victim is leaning backwards after breaking their nose the blood will run down the back of their throat potentially making them vomit or very sick. There is a chance a broken nose will heal in a way that restricts breathing in which case your victim may need surgery.

Cheek bone. Below the temple but above the gum line, running from just bellow their ear to their nose. Special mention to this spot because it’s the best place to hit your victim in the head (in my opinion). This piece of bone is very sturdy and not that risky to fracture. Plus, when you hit them here they have to watch it coming.

Neck. The windpipe, jugular, cranial nerves, vagus nerve, carotid arteries, and spine all live here and damage to any of these can cause permanent disability or death. Seek medical attention if your victim has trouble breathing or swallowing, or a lot of pain or swelling. Stingy tools are far less risky here than thuddy tools.

Shoulders. Note 2 on joints. The shoulder blades can either be an ideal impact location or one of the most risky depending on how it’s sitting. If the shoulder blade is jutting out away from the rest of the back, it’s very easy to damage If it’s laying flat against the back, it’s protected by a thick layer of fat and muscle.

Biceps. Top 4 impact location. The main concern is damaging the elbow and shoulder joints, if hitting in a way that will pull on those joints. Much like with the head, bracing the impact area against a surface will minimize the risk. Repeated hits to this area can temporarily disable the arm, which is fun.

Forearm. As above, the main risk is damaging the adjoining joints. There are also several important blood vessels and nerves running through this area and not a lot of fat an muscle to protect them.

Hands. Very little fat or muscle, mostly tendons, nerves, and cartilage. See Note 2 on joints. Special note to the palm, which hurts like hell but is relatively safe because of the extra muscle and fat in that area, great for punishment. Once again, stingy tools are much less risky than thuddy tools.

Breasts/ biceps. Top 4 impact locations. Thick layers of fat, muscle, and bone protect anything vital.

Sternum. That is the bone running down the center of a person’s chest that connects to their ribs. Not in itself very fragile but the cartilage that connects it to the ribs is easily damaged and will take a long time to heal. A fractured sternum will likely cause shortness of breath and pain when taking deep breaths. There's not much to be done about these injuries just rest and avoiding strenuous activity.

Spine. The single most risky impact location. Any damage to the spine risks permanent paralysis of everything below that point. As ever, stingy tools present less risk than thuddy tools.

Rib cage. Designed to protect a person’s most vital organs, the rib cage is very strong. Fractured ribs will cause pain breathing but aren't particularly serious. Snapped ribs can pierce organs If this happens, it'll be immediately obvious and medical intervention is required to prevent painful death. Special note to the 'floating' ribs at the bottom of a persons rib cage which don't connect to the sternum and are therefore much less resilient. Second special note to the spot right above a persons heart. A significantly hard impact at exactly the wrong moment in their cardiac cycle can stop their heart. They will loose consciousness and you will need to give them CPR until they can be defibrillated. This is ridiculously unlikely but better to mention just in case.

Abdomen. If you feel around your victim’s belly, you can figure out the line where their abdominal muscles sit. If you have them tense these muscles, you can hit them fairly hard with relatively little risk because the muscles plus the fat in that area create a thick layer of protection. (Pro tip: "Stay tense or this will might kill you" is not only true but hot and terrifying). Outside of that area or if they don't tense, there's real risk of bruising or even rupturing their intestines, which carries a 50-70% survival rate depending on how quickly you can get them to the ER. Symptoms to look out for are bloating, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and fatigue. Special note to the kidneys, which sit next to the backbone just below the rib cage and are very easily bruised. The primary symptom to look for is blood when peeing. As always, stingy tools carry less risk than thuddy tools.

Gluteus maximus. That's their butt. Hit it as hard as your victim will let you. Enough has been said about this region; I don't feel the need to recover that ground. Note 4 on bruises.

Genitals. I'm not going to get into CBT, that's a separate kink. But the vagina is very durable as it’s pretty much just flesh and fat on the outside Minimal risk, go to town.

Thigh. Top 4 impact location. Outer thigh will hurt more and bruise more. As with the head and arms, the primary risk is damaging the adjoining joints. Note 4 on bruises because this is the primary place for DVT.

Calf. As above. Shins are also a great location for punishment because they hurt like hell.

Feet. Very similar to hands. The soles of a person’s foot are intended to impact with the ground frequently and with some force, so they can take a fair bit of punishment.

Note 1. Ice. It is no longer suggested injury procedure to use ice to reduce swelling. Yes, it is effective at reducing swelling but we now understand swelling is an important part of the healing process and although ice might make it feel and look better in the short term, it actually increases the amount of time the injury will take to heal. You want the blood to be able to flow to the injury to take away dead cells and bring nutrients and energy.

Note 2. Joints. Neck, spine, shoulders, elbows, wrists, fingers, hips, knees, ankles, and toes. The reason these are almost always labeled "red" or "no go" on impact play body maps is because these are choke points for blood vessels and nerves; they are made of fragile tendons and cartilage, and they have very little padding for protection. They're also important for movement day to day and very difficult to heal properly. If a joint is damaged, you can buy braces for every joint from most pharmacies.

Note 3. Dislocations. If you're lucky, a partial dislocation will relocate by itself if you move the joint around as you normally would, not forcing it or trying to manipulate it with your hand, just moving it with its own muscles. If it does naturally relocate but you still have pain a few weeks later seek a medical professional. If you're unlucky or if it’s a total dislocation, you will have to see a medical professional. DO NOT TRY TO FORCE IT BACK INTO PLACE!

Note 4. Bruises. Normally, bruises are nothing to worry about but there are situations where a deep bruise can be a health concern. If the bruise continues to get worse after a week, there could be a hematoma under the skin, which is like a blood clot, and might need to be removed. The other possible complication is Deep Vein Thrombosis, which is a blood clot and can be lethal, if not treated quickly. With DVT, the symptoms are tenderness, warmth, and a "pulling sensation" which are pretty normal impact play symptoms. But if you're doing impact play at the level that could cause DVT, then you and your victim should know their healing process intimately, so if something feels off or isn't healing right, get them to a medical professional; better safe than dead.

[itz-pandora]

Guys watch this before clicking read more

I have so many thoughts

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN MARIA'S WOUND AND THE DESTROYED MOON?!!! OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY. MY GOD. That's the entire reason I started writing my thoughts down because that's way past important. Where's that post about the symbolism and correlation between Maria's name and the moon because that's all I can think about

AND I LOVE how they're choosing to portray Maria recently, excited and eager for everything, even though it hurts her. Also how fascinated she is with earth makes me happy. I love the idea she'll just endlessly ramble to Shadow about Earth. Also her VA does a good job at letting you know how out of breath she is and how she's still all upbeat even tho she's literally about to pass out

Also ?!!! I AM GOING A BIT CRAZY AT SHADOWS PORTRAYAL!! I'm so hyped to see how he's interpreted in Generations. He seems so confused, and like each time period he's in impacts his personality heavily, like he's still with them on the ARK. He wants to save everyone even though he knows he can't and I'm SCRATCHING AT THE WALLS because of it. I think the way that they'll try to portray him going into the past is with him being only half-aware of everything, OR, HE'S TRYING TO LIVE A LIE TO MAKE HIMSELF FEEL BETTER. Ohmygod the second one makes me feel ill because he just wants to be happy, he wants to keep his little family together and safe, but he knows that the fate is inevitable, just wondering if he could've stopped it. It's haunting to him. The feeling of not being in control is present throughout the entire episode, where he's constantly dragged through each event, each one being more exhausting than the last. Everything is happening to him, he's not the driving force, and that's the sad part, he had an entire game about defining his identity, and still, he's always been a puppet to someone else, bent to their will.

I'M SO CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT THEY'RE PLANNING WITH GERALD BECAUSE ITS DEFINITELY SOMETHING. SHADOW WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU??? Shadow had to PHYSICALLY CLASP HIS HEAD BECAUSE OF THIS. I NEED TO KNOW.

Dude is this supposed to be Shadow's second traumatic flashback regarding the ARK, since in the hero story of SHTH, there's an entire level about the ARK where he plays with Maria as his sidekick, and it was triggered by hearing the sirens of the ARK (which I LOVE btw. Of COURSE he'd associate the noise with events since it's been drilled into his psyche before the amnesia)

I LOVE how scared he is at the end. He's sooooo panicked. I love how they give him the sparks when he's overwhelmed, it makes me feel so happy.

Who is HE?! It can't be Shadow before his memory loss, that guy did NOT SURVIVE. Also idk if they're going to return to the "pre and post amnesia Shadow are different people" thing they implied, because I think it'd be best to have it be like his memories are fragmented, and it's all about remembering, and THEN WE GET A NEW INTERPRETATION OF SHADOW?? Pls? Like not new but somewhere in between SA2 and after that, but with more little brother energy because MARIA IS HERE!!!!

GUYS WHAT ARE THOSE FLOWERS AT THE END AND WHAT DO THEY MEAN. PLEASE TELL ME SINCE THEY PROBABLY HAVE SYMBOLISM

This is so disorganized sorry I'm not normal at all

And ofc Eggman's piss was still on the moon. We love continuity

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Jaehaerys i Targaryen concept.

Sure! Sorry it's gendered, I couldn't figure out how to write this without making darling a lady :(

Additional Thoughts

Yandere! Jaehaerys I Targaryen Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Potential Targcest, Overprotective behavior, Medieval topics, Marriage, Subtle manipulation, Possessive behavior, Pregnancy, Gender roles, Mature themes, Isolation, Imprisonment, Morbid themes, Dubious turned forced relationship.

Well, there's two ways I think this could work.

You replace Alysanne in canon, making you the sister of Jaehaerys whom he's loved since you were both young (Normal for Targaryens).

Or if you don't wish to replace Alysanne, you can be a childhood friend Jaehaerys fell for instead when he was hiding from Maegor.

Regardless, Jaehaerys is a very loyal man and king to his beloved.

You two grew up alongside one another, even surviving Maegor's rule together hidden by the Baratheons..

When Jaehaerys was crowned king, there was only ever one bride he wanted.

You.

He's polite, wise, and caring towards you.

If you chose option one, then you could even bring the dragons into it.

Vermithor and Silverwing are the only canonical dragon pair we know of.

In canon, it's said they loved one another just as much as their riders loved each other.

If you picked option one, you'd have Silverwing as your dragon, which only proves to Jaehaerys you're meant to be when he sees how close your dragons are.

If not, no worries, in option two you are his loyal childhood friend.

He trusts you more than many, in this HC, he'd love you instead of Alysanne.

His yandere behavior is subtle.

Jaehaerys mostly just comes off as a man who is completely loyal and enamored with you, his wife.

Even when his mother and her Baratheon husband tries to betroth him to another...

He clings to you.

Ever since you two were young, many felt you two were as close as can be.

It was no secret Jaehaerys loved you, naturally as king he'd want you as his queen.

He's willing to do anything to get that.

He courts you with many gifts and gives you much affection.

Jaehaerys is a man who'd never force you into anything... at first.

He wants to be your one and only, but he'll wait for you.

He'll wait for you to accept his gifts and his love... Then when he brings up getting married, he marries you in private at Dragonstone when you're ready.

To him, it doesn't matter if his mother is against his affections.

He'd marry you in secret, but not consummate it until you're ready.

He's overly caring, overly protective, yet knows to treat you right.

He's dedicated to the point of telling others off, even The Faith, if they disagree with his decision.

He loves you more than anything.

Nothing could pry you from his grasp.

In a way, you could view his behavior as possessive rather than overly protective.

You mean The Realm to him....

Many think him weak, just like his father.

So he tries to show himself as strong for you and The Realm.

He wants you to love a strong man... one who can protect you from any threat.

However, Jaehaerys is also a man who wants to resolve things peacefully.

He isn't someone who would kill over you, unless your life and happiness were threatened.

Although... Jaehaerys is known to make veiled threats.

He does know how to show he has power.

He wants his voice heard, especially when he's defending his beloved.

Jaehaerys is a gifted rider who would love to ride alongside his beloved.

If you have Silverwing, he makes time to fly beside you.

If you don't ride a dragon, he invites you to ride atop Vermithor with him.

He sees this as bonding.

Jaehaerys trains for you, studies for you, he does nearly everything for you.

He's been attached and fond of you since you were both children.

The only way he'd give you up is if someone pried you from his hands.

Even when word of your secret marriage on Dragonstone would get out, Jaehaerys defends his choice vehemently.

Even when scolded by his mother, Jaehaerys clings to you protectively.

The good thing about Jaehaerys is he's a very doting husband at the start of your marriage.

I can see him as a worship yandere at times, praising you and cooing over you as his darling wife and queen.

He'd choose no one else.

Even if demanded.

You're taken hunting, riding, and with him to discuss diplomatic matters.

He pledges his love for you, showers you in kisses, holds you close...

Even more so once you carry his heirs.

He's smothering and protective, which seems like the worse he'd get.

Although... He does have dragons... and knows how to show others he means business.

If you were ever pregnant with his child, he is adamant on keeping you in the Red Keep.

Jaehaerys is a decent king compared to his uncle, Maegor.

Yet Jaehaerys still has the typical medieval gender views when it comes to women.

Despite that, as his queen, you are given respect.

Jaehaerys was known for fixing the realm after Maegor's rule.

Such a goal he hopes to have you aid him in as queen.

He treats his beloved well and doesn't seem all that bad compared to most Targaryens.

However... There's still glaring issues.

He's a good husband at times... but was evidently poor with his daughters.

That... and Jaehaerys has been shown in canon to have his wife bear... many heirs (In canon he tried for thirteen children, but nine lived until adulthood)

So one could say he'd be demanding of his obsession.

Jaehaerys would be fine towards you until you two start fighting.

He wouldn't show many toxic behaviors until your marriage begins to fail.

In fact, you may have loved him until issues began appearing.

In canon, these issues involved him marrying off his daughters too young or straight up casting them aside.

He was fine with his sons... but not his daughters.

However, in this concept, you two could fight for another reason if you wish.

To keep it dark, maybe he begins showing controlling behavior?

He may be a worship yandere... yet he's also a subtle manipulative one.

He keeps asking you for children... He keeps trying to lock you in the Red Keep...

Essentially, when he becomes too overbearing in this, you begin to no longer be fond of him.

Jaehaerys begins to notice when you pull away from him, turn down intimacy of any kind, and just glare.

Your marriage goes cold with the king and you want an out.

Nothing he does makes you happy anymore.

Jaehaerys actually becomes a bit... worried.

Even as he makes The Realm a better place, you're filled with disdain... He can't seem to fix his marriage.

Despite his actions, Jaehaerys still adores you.

He's still infatuated, even.

So... Seeing you so distant begins to drive the now older man to court you again.

He orders gifts for you, he offers dragon rides, hunting, reading, anything...

You ignore him.

It both frustrates him and makes him worried.

Will you never love him again?

How can he make it up to you?

Jaehaerys may try giving you your space to make you love him again.

Yet if that doesn't work... and he senses you'll try to flee for Dragonstone or somewhere similar to leave him...

He may need to convince you in other ways.

Imagine Jaehaerys imprisoning you for treason.

That or just locking you in your shared chambers.

He can't bear the thought of you leaving him.

Your children grow concerned about their father's behavior.

Unfortunately, Jaehaerys doesn't change his mind.

If you hate him... He'll tolerate it.

Yet he's going to keep you with him for the rest of his days.

He's used to the arguments you give him at this point.

The entire time he thinks back to when you two genuinely loved one another.

Being king is a hard life.

Even harder when your queen no longer loves you.

However... Jaehaerys would be determined to make you love him again.

If that doesn't work?

He'll just be happy dying beside you while your children take the Iron Throne and Dragonstone.

Ever since you two married, you're stuck to him.

It doesn't matter what you do... or if you reciprocate or not...

Jaehaerys will always love you, die beside you, and keep you to himself for the rest of your days. No matter what.

[confoundedluna]

Here's just my analysis of every trophy from the UD remake, how they've changed, what's been removed, just my general thoughts on them because I'm super hyped for more information lmao

Trophies that are entirely unchanged - same requirements, same name, same level (platinum, gold, silver or bronze)

A Symphony of Horror - The platinum, technically different requirements I guess because of the new trophies under it, but its status as the platinum and everything else about it is the same so I'm counting it here

This Is THE End - Gold, they all die trophy

They All Live - Gold, they all live trophy

You Opened Their Eyes - Gold, Mystery Man clueline trophy

The Fateful Descent - Gold, 1952 clueline trophy

The Tale of The Two Sisters - Gold, Twins clueline trophy

You Let The Wrong One In! - Bronze, Chris or Ash opened the trapdoor in the mines

Trophies that are the same except their level has changed

The Skilful Wolf Man - Gold to silver, saving Wolfie trophy

The Psycho Path - Silver to bronze, attacking the Psycho as Sam or Ashley (vase or scissors, possibly the bat too in Sam's chase though I'm not sure on that)

Trophies that are the same but their name changed

Night of the Totem Hunter - Gold, is now called An Omen?, technically different since the Hunger totems were added, but it's the same idea of finding all of them so I'm counting it here

Trophies that changed name and level

Scream Too! - Silver to bronze, is now called Saw That Coming, Mike cuts off his fingers with the machete

Ashley Snaps - Silver to bronze, is now called Nightmare on Ash Street, technically changed in that the description is tonally very different and moves to the more sympathetic view of that situation over the original's description, which is very interesting in and of itself, but it's the same thing requirement wise so I'm counting it

Trophies that have been removed for the remake

The Quicker Man - Gold, all the boys survive, makes sense as you can easily get this at the same time as the They All Live trophy

Four Daughters Of Darkness - Gold, all the girls survive, same thing as the above trophy, though I'm more bummed about this one because I really like the name and referring to the girls with it

Don't Scare Jessica To Death - Silver, Jess survives the night, this has been kind of replaced by a couple of other trophies which I'll get to in a bit, I liked that she was the only one with a sole survivor trophy so again kinda bummed by its removal but oh well

Instant Inferno - Silver, Sam immediately runs to the switch, this one I imagine is because it's right at the end of chapter 10 and annoying to replay the whole thing for since you can't do a all live or all die run and get this, plus it's a little out of Sam's character in most people's opinions, which kinda aligns with the change to Ashley Snaps i think

Fatal Grudge - Bronze, Chris shoots Ash, I think this one again goes with the tonal change made to Ashley Snaps, and also means that following that path gets you one trophy as opposed to two

The Exorcism of Emily and Let eM In - Both bronze, grouping these together because they're the same situation, it's very interesting to me they got rid of these two in favour for something else (which I'll again talk about further down)

New trophies added for the remake

It's Shining - Silver, collect all the new interactables, this one I'm excited for, I'm really intrigued to see what they added in, one other trophy kinda spoils that since i believe the item it mentioned isn't in the game already unless I'm forgetting seeing it?

We Need to Talk About Josh - Silver, achieved the best ending for Josh, this one has a lot of people excited based on the wording that he'll get a new ending where he can survive and make it off the mountain, and though my logical brain says that it's just gonna be for getting the journal and the ending where he turns, my Josh-loving brain would love to see a different ending for him!

The Cabin in the Blackwoods - Silver, completed a full playthrough, your bog-standard completion trophy, but I'm glad this and one other are the only ones and it isn't a chapter-by-chapter basis like some people were worried the trophies would be

Talk to eM - Silver, Emily slapped Ashley after the truth was revealed, I can only imagine this is replacing the other two because of what an iconic moment in the game it became within the fandom, and I appreciate that acknowledgement ngl, plus it's more incentive for players to keep Em alive in the basement as opposed to shooting her because they hate her, which I always like to see

When a Psycho Calls - Silver, Sam successfully escapes the Psycho, this one is like a 'yeah, this should have always been in the game' kind of addition to the trophy list, totally get this one being here, I like to see it

Blackwood Country - Silver, the group respected the wildlife of the mountain, I also like this one because it plays into the story and the background of the mountain, my guess is it's a series of not shooting the squirrel, not hitting the bird in the snowball fight, possibly choosing to comfort the dying deer that Mike and Jess find, not hitting the herd with the axe as Matt, and possibly not hitting Wolfie, though since his survival is its own trophy, he might not count

Fatal Destination - Silver, tried changing the past despite Dr Hill's warnings, this one is intriguing but I imagine it's solely for restarting and either replaying the full game, or just the prologue, since he already has a unique dialogue for starting the game again from the beginning (which, if someone has a clip of, please link it! I cannot find it!)

Only Others Left Alive - Silver, Matt and Jess only survive, I like this one giving some acknowledgement to the two that get pretty neglected by the game, it's part of the replacement for Jess's sole survivor one and gives Matt some respect too!

Carnival of Solitude - Bronze, shake the snow globe, this is the item I mentioned earlier that I cannot remember seeing in the original game? If it was there then my bad, but if it wasn't, I hope it's something either with like a cute picture of the Washingtons in it, or with a deer or butterfly in it and we find it in Hannah's room or something like that

Just Breathe - Bronze, Matt or Em successfully defended themselves with the flare gun, another one where you think 'yeah, this should have been in the game already', both are pretty hard shots to make iirc and deserve more acknowledgment outside of the butterfly effect they're part of

Our Host - Bronze, the Psycho's identity was revealed, this will ether be a general story progression trophy unlocked automatically when it happens, or may have something to do with finding everything in his workshop should Sam escape, though that's less likely

I Know What You Did Last Year - Bronze, completed the Prologue, the other general playthrough trophy, I like this one due to the rework and the expanded scenes that we'll get to see

Lodge Fever - Bronze, Matt and Em started separate confrontations in the lodge, this is I imagine for starting a fight with Mike as Matt but backing down before it reaches boiling point, so that Emily can come in and start her fight with Jess, so I'm intrigued by their choice to add this, though it could hint at the preorder DLC being added into the full game? maybe?

One Hour Selfie - Bronze, take a bad selfie with Jessica, this is a missable encounter on the cabin walk that I think can impact their relationship? it's got some funny dialogue and it's a cute little silly trophy so I like that they've put in something like that

Drag Me Through Hell - Bronze, Mike saved Jess without failing a QTE, the other half of the change to Jess's sole survivor trophy, this one is interesting as she can still die after, but can also live if you do miss a QTE - this is the most like. playing the game related trophy, if that makes sense? it's the most related to the actual controls of the game, and I wonder if you have to have certain settings or difficulty enabled to be able to achieve it or not

An American Survivor in Canada - Bronze, Mike successfully escapes the Sanatorium in Chapter 9, some people are theorising that Mike could have a new death now, which would be sick because his plot armour is atrocious, but again, I'm pretty sure this is just about him making it out of the building on his own, and Sam not needing to be in there to help him blow it up

Patient Sematary - Bronze, Mike picked up the odd figurine, another interactable spoiler, I've gone through all the clues and can't see anything like a figurine, so I'm really intrigued about this!

And that's everything! I've added a few of my thoughts throughout, I guess let me know what y'all think and if you have any other inputs? I just thought the changes and additions and removals were all super interesting, and I love getting to analyse and see if anything we don't know can be figured out from this stuff! And if anyone else has already done something like this then oh well lmao, this is my version

[arliedraws]

Do you think Regulus defected because of Kreacher or because he stopped believing in blood supremancy? Do you think he might have faked his death?

I’m rubbing my grubby lil hands together.

Let’s just proceed with the understanding that my opinion is based on my interpretation of the books. It is an interpretation which means—who fuckin’ knows if I’m right.

The short answer is— yes, sort of Kreacher, kind of? And to the second question, no.

I think Regulus was an arrogant, proud, and entitled little boy who was overshadowed by his brother. He was weak, and he wanted power. I see him as toadying after Sirius up until Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. I think Regulus doesn’t cut ties with Sirius until Regulus secures his place in Slytherin (in case he needs Sirius’s protection). After that, he rejects Sirius entirely. Going out of his way to mock Sirius at school and tattle on him at home.

Regulus is also extremely vocal in his prejudice against Muggles and Muggleborns, using the slur Mudblood constantly and parroting his parents’ beliefs. He collects articles about Voldemort. He really looks up to Voldemort who is going to protect their way of life. After all, Muggleborns aren’t really full wizards anyway and they’re degrading and sullying pureblood lines.

But Regulus will always play second fiddle to Sirius. He’s not stupid—he knows his parents love Sirius more, particularly his mother. No one cares what Regulus does—they only care what Sirius does. For ages, he tries to get their attention, but they don’t care. So fine, Regulus can find someone else who will appreciate him. He joins the Death Eaters, but the only reason he’s allowed into the ranks is because of Bellatrix’s influence. Even so, he’s not in the inner circle. At all. And he’s tasked with really shitty things, and he’s serving the Dark Lord—he’s not getting any sort of attention or appreciation at all. He doesn’t have the stomach for torturing or killing—I believe Sirius when he said that Regulus was soft.

The truth is, Regulus knows that to gain any sort of power, he has to make his way into Voldemort’s inner circle. When Voldemort requests the use of a house-elf, he volunteers Kreacher. Regulus is fairly suspicious of Voldemort’s actions and he’s been piecing together the Horcrux thing, so when Kreacher tells him about the cave, Regulus is certain that he’s right about Voldemort. But he’s also exceptionally offended. It’s a fucking insult! Kreacher belongs to the Blacks—doesn’t Voldemort know who the Blacks are? Considering Lucius Malfoy’s utmost fury at losing Dobby and nearly cursing Harry inside the fucking school, I would bet that harming someone’s house-elf is extremely offensive (I mean, not in the way that it should be offensive).

Also, Regulus loves Kreacher. He loves the only person who seems to care for him (even if that person is his fucking slave and bound to serve him…).

But Regulus doesn’t give a damn about Muggles or Muggleborns. Voldemort has insulted Regulus by not including him in the inner circle, and he’s insulted the Black family by treating Kreacher like shit. So he decides to get his revenge by destroying the Horcrux…and we know how well that goes…

The funny thing is, I would bet Voldemort didn’t want Regulus at all—I think he wanted Sirius. If Voldemort had Sirius’s loyalty, Sirius would’ve been his most dangerous Death Eater (or, at least he would have given Bellatrix a run for her money), but instead, Voldemort was stuck with Regulus. And I doubt he hardly noticed when Regulus stopped showing up. Even Bellatrix might be like, “Oh, shit, I forgot about my little cousin. Anyone seen him lately?” (This is mostly because it would be funny.)

Okay, but to your question—did he fake his death? NO! But how fucking hilarious if he did?

“Everyone’s gonna be so sad I’m dead!” and then… no one really notices…

But five years ago, I started writing an AU where he DOES survive and fucks off to Greece to hide with Great Aunt Cassiopeia who demands, in return for her discretion, that he hunt down treasures for her mass collection. And maybe he fucks Charlie Weasley… and somewhere down the line becomes a halfway decent person after learning some fucking humility.

[cosmiccrushes]

Truth & Lies

Solas x Lavellan

1k words

I'm obsessed with the idea of Solas watching lavellan in her dreams, like ugh, the s u f f e r i n g

-------

He knows she dreams of this cove and its soft green meadows often. For he waits in its shadows for her return. Beckoning her to walk in this place where they once stood together. Where he had looked upon the markings on her face and told her what it meant, lying about how he knew. Meaning to tell her a different truth and lying to himself about why he could not.

So much lying. And still too much truth. 

Solas had a plan. He really did. It was with painful, teeth gritting stubbornness that he had forced himself to maintain that plan when Corypheus fell and the Breach was sealed. He had left her. She was a threat to his plans. Lie. What she made him feel, that was the real threat. Truth. 

The people needed him still. He could not let one Dalish elf change that. No matter how beautiful he found her piercing green eyes. No matter how his heart squeezed at her openness and curiosity. No matter how he felt his beliefs waver in her presence when she spoke with such passion and protectiveness for this world and those in it. No matter the pride she held towards her Dalish kin. She did not really know what could be, what had been. 

Solas knew what must be done. Knew it every time he let his lips press to hers. Still he had held on. She had made it so hard to let go. Her wanting of him made him yearn. He wished he could simply be an outcast- just an elf who saw the world differently with no real power to do anything about it. But he was not that elf. He was power and potential. The Dread Wolf. He Who Hunts Alone. A false god of betrayal and rebellion. His rebellion was not yet over. Nor it seemed, was his betrayal. 

He knew her learning his truth would hurt. What he had not been prepared for was the doubt that crept in like a fog settling over his eyes, clouding his vision forward. Looking into her eyes, clear and bright with unshed tears, as he finally gave her the truth of who she shared her heart with…it had not just been painful for him- it had felt wrong. 

She had pleaded with him. “Var lath vir suledin!” Our love will endure. His reply, “I wish it could, vhenan.” He really did. But he knew in that moment- when his arms ached to hold her and his weary bones longed to lay with her and forget his responsibilities- their love could not endure. He must rip her out of his heart or rip his whole heart out of him if she could not be removed from it as he feared. He could not afford to feel doubt for what must be done. He could not allow these feelings for her to continue and plague his mind with wrongness for what comes next. 

So he had turned away from her. Taking a last kiss and then her arm, because even in his conviction that she was a threat to his plans, he could not bear to see her suffer. The anchor was killing her and the thought of her dead burned like fire inside his veins. Nevermind that when he was through with his objective, she might be dead anyway. No, his jaw hardened at that thought. She would survive. She had to survive. The new world would need people like her.

He needed her.

But no, that thought was forbidden now- a dark magic he did not dare to wield. A truth he must bury away under a mountain of lies.

She would live- and when he was done she would see- this way was better, this was setting the world right.

Those first months after they parted had been hard, but not impossible he found. He could force himself not to think of her and it worked. Until it didn’t. Until he lay awake at night, thinking of a different bed and a midnight when he didn’t feel so terribly alone. 

The first time she appeared to him in his Fade-dreamed version of their cove, he had not considered how dangerous it was for him to visit this once shared space. Coming here, he had allowed himself to once more indulge in his selfishness, indulge in the memory of what another world could have been like. One where she existed as more than the ghost of fingerprints on his skin. 

Had her name, whispered into his dreams, led her here? Had she brought herself? She had been resolute at their parting that she would not give up on him. So he had been resolute in giving up on her. I would not have you see what I become, he had told her. Truth.

But here she was- haunting his dreams.

He had reacted quickly, hiding himself away before she noticed his presence fully. Then he watched. He knew he should not, but he did anyway. A man dying of thirst, now drowning in an ocean. After that first night, he welcomed the flood. Soaked in its waters. If he could not cast her out of his heart, he could at least contain her in this cove of fantasy and possibility. The him who existed on these shores need not exist elsewhere. He could look upon his heart- know she was safe and far away from the Dread Wolf and the Din'anshiral he walked. 

So yes, he knows she dreams of this meadow often. Knows she has caught glimpses of him. Knows that if he seeks her out as he walks the Fade, she will find him. Knows that she searches for him. Knows that he should not encourage it. Lies to himself that it is okay like this, that he can be okay like this, watching her from afar. 

Var lath vir suledin.

At least this is the lie he allows himself to believe when he slips into dreaming at night, imagining a weight pressed to his chest and his arms winding around the greatest truth he has ever known. 

I wish it could, vhenan. Truth. 

My love…I will never forget you. Truth.

So much lying. And still too much truth. 

[hollowed-theory-hall]

How do you think Tom would have been raised by Riddle?

And do you think Harry's personality would be very different if he had been raised by his parents? or by Sirius?

Hello,

I'll start with the second question and then go for the first. My answers for each are gonna be more of a general overview of how I see their difference and not anything too detailed since this post is long enough as it is.

The short answer is yes and no, Harry (and Tom, for that matter) were very affected by the way they grew up and it influenced the way they behaved, their choices, and their personalities in various ways, but certain aspects of their character would likely remain. I think, in Harry's case whether he was raised by James and Lily or Sirius after James and Lily died would be somewhat different but a lot of his nature still holds.

If James & Lily lived

A Harry who grew up with James and Lily as parents would likely have Sirius around, basically 24/7 as well. Like, I don't see James getting married really separating the duo of James & Sirius. Lily was also clearly close enough to Sirius that they had their own friendship by the time the Potters were in hiding.

I think this Harry would be just as compassionate, and likely still mature for his age. I think, had James and Lily lived, they would've probably had more kids, making Harry the eldest child. Eldest children tend to be the most mature, responsible children and the most helpful to the parents (not always, but on average).

That being said, Harry would be more confident in everything. He'd probably be more arrogant than his canon counterpart. This Harry would still be between Slytherin and Gryffindor in his sorting (closer to Slytherin than canon Harry, actually). This Harry, with his alive war hero parents, and being the eldest child would likely strive to live up to James and Lily and the various achievements in magic/government they had post-war. So, actually, a Harry raised by James and Lily has just as much if not more of a chance of ending up in Slytherin since he'd be more prideful and ambitious and just as clever as canon Harry. (Though, he'd likely still ask the hat to be in Gryffindor, for reasons similar to those in canon).

This Harry would have likely grown up with Neville and perhaps Ron and Luna from childhood, so he'd have arrived at Hogwarts knowing much more about magic and the wizarding world and surrounded by friends.

(How James and Lily survive also kinda matters for this entire what-if scenario. As in, did they kill Voldemort somehow? Did Voldemort just decide not to kill them so as to not waste powerful wizards and then Harry is still the Boy Who Lived who defeated the Dark Lord? somehow? Because that'll make James & Lily and the reaction of magical society different to Harry and would affect how he grew up somewhat)

If Sirius didn't go to Azkaban

If we assumed Sirius, somehow, didn't go to Azkaban. Say he got a trial and was acquitted, bribed his way out, succeded in killing Peter and proving his innocence, or something like this that'll allow him to be Harry's guardian and not on the run from the ministry, how would he have raised Harry?

I first want to say I'm not a Wolfstar shipper, so I don't really see it going in that direction, especially not early on. No shade to Wolfstar shippers, ship what you ship, just not my taste. I actually don't see Remus being overly involved early on. I mean, his and Sirius' friendship is very fractured by this point, both thinking the other was a traitor and they lost the glue that held them together — James. They'd probably mend their friendship later on, but, it'll need to be Sirius who pushes for it because Remus who's left to his own devices would stay away.

So I think Sirius would go to Andromeda for help with baby Harry since she relatively recently had her own daughter. So, this Harry would grow around with Aunt Dromeda and Uncle Ted and Nymphadora as an older sister/cousin character.

This Harry would still be as compassionate and mature for his age as Harrry usually is. His compassion is such a big part of him, that I don't think it could be completely curved off regardless of how he's raised. Harry would be helping Sirius with his grief as much as Sirius is raising Harry. Sirius after James dies would probably wish he'd followed him and then regret the thought immediately because he has to be there for Harry. Harry just being there would probably help Sirius a lot.

But this Harry is probably the most impulsive and least mature of the three Harrys discussed in this post as he'd take after Sirius as his rule model in basically everything. And you can bet the stories of the epic misadventures of the Mauraders (according to Sirius) would be his bedtime stories for years before going to Hogwarts.

And Harry would still be the Boy Who Lived, except now he'd know it earlier and have to deal with a wizarding world that knows. He'd still be more aware of the wizarding world and maybe already friends with Ron and Neville or perhaps other kids by the time he arrives at Hogwarts. If Harry is raised by Sirius post-war, there is also a none zero chance Narcissa would reach out to Sirius and Harry would meet Draco before Hogwarts. I think, they'd still be kinda annoyed with each other as kids, but the dynamic would be different.

This Harry would be more confident, but not as arrogant as if he was raised by James and Lily, I think. I think this Harry would have a whole different set of insecurities, but they would exist. And I see this Harry as the most Gryffindor of them. He'd still have his sass (maybe even more so) and cunning, but he'd be more brash and impulsive than Harry raised by the Dursleys or his parents would be.

If Tom Riddle was raised by his father

This Tom would likely hate wizards more than regular Tom does. After all, he'd grown on his father's stories of being bewitched and of his mother being an evil witch. Then, he'd probably spend his childhood trying to conceal his magic to the best of his ability only for a huge rift to grow between him and his father once the Hogwarts letter arrived.

I also don't expect Tom Sr to be a loving father for a kid he didn't want from a woman who raped him. Especially if said child had magic. If he still married the other woman he was with (Cecilia), I doubt she'd like Tom either. So Tom still has a pretty unloving and neglectful childhood but at least he gets regular meals.

This Tom would likely still get sorted into Slytherin and still be just as hateful towards wizards and muggles and himself. He's still curious about every facet of magic he could find and would want to perfect it.

The main difference is that I don't think this Tom would be overly focused on immortality. He'd be safe from the Blitz, he wouldn't see as much death, and would barely experience the war compared to at Wool's.

This Tom might be willing to settle for a job as an unspeakable at the ministry and not become a Dark Lord. But he also might hate muggles and wizards more than regular Tom and he'd still be after magical experimentation like the mad scientist he is. So, Tom being raised by the Riddles would likely not save the Wizarding World from him becoming a Dark Lord. Hell, he might become immortal just to prove that he can instead of some fixation on immortality like in canon.

This Tom would probably be just as desperate for a real human connection since there's a good chance he wouldn't get it from the Riddles.

Basically, Tom doesn't change much and has a miserable childhood that leads to him becoming an only slightly more functional adult than normal.

[blackenedsnow]

HELL0 HELOOO

I WATCHED A NEW K DRAMA MOVIE AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT SHADOW EXACTLY FITS THIS REQUEST. (K-drama name:midnight)

Shadow and reader lived together, but the reader was deaf and could only speak sign language, although she could speak the language, she could not speak. Anyway, while the reader was walking on the street by herself, she saw a wounded girl and went there. The girl was screaming for help, reader could not hear her but she knew how to read mouth, she bend down and tried to help the wounded girl, when the girl pointed behind her she slowly gulped and looked behind her the serial killer was waiting behind her, Unable to scream or call for help, while the killer was about to attack both of them, the reader managed to bend down and run without looking back, also the girl started running without looking back. But the killer sh0t her she dropped dead, while the reader continued running calling shadow but she couldnt her phone was dead she looked behind and the killer was running so fastly she continued to run to her home which took a while,

They had arrived at the popular spot in the city,the killer was running after her, but the reader tried to hack it, but the killer made up a lie and tried to take her away. She finally run away but she found the killer trying to trick a woman nd she had no choice but ran towards the lady tried to stop her she had a knife in her hand, she stabbed the killer..no...wha?..she stabbed herself but she made the killer hold the knife. Everyone gathered early and the police arrived,even shadow. (Nice plot twist right? I mean if you watched it)

__What would he do? Seeing his crush getting st1bbed..

I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS 🤭

silent shadow

WARNING: Violence, near-death experiences, major character injury, emotional distress.

PAIRING: Shadow The Hedgehog x (Fem) Deaf! Reader

NOTE: This one was really fun and intense to write! Enjoy! 🤭I really hope I got this right.. I probably didn't but oh well

SUMMARY: Living with Shadow, you’ve grown accustomed to his quiet but protective nature. Being deaf hasn’t stopped you from communicating, though you rely on sign language. One night, when you come across a wounded girl on the street, you’re thrown into a dangerous game of survival against a relentless serial killer. Your only hope is reaching Shadow before it’s too late.

The cool night breeze brushed against your skin as you made your way down the dimly lit street. You liked the quiet. It was peaceful, and it gave you a break from the world that never stopped moving. Your phone was tucked away in your pocket, and you absently glanced around, taking in the familiar sights of the neighborhood. Shadow was home, probably brooding as usual, but you needed to stretch your legs after a long day.

It wasn’t long before you noticed someone up ahead—a girl, frantic and stumbling, covered in blood. Your heart leapt into your throat. She was screaming something, but you couldn’t hear the sounds. Still, you knew how to read lips, and her terrified expression told you everything you needed to know.

“Help me. Please help.”

You hurried toward her, kneeling beside her as she collapsed to the ground. The girl was shaking, pointing behind you, her mouth forming the words, “He’s here. He’s coming.”

Your stomach dropped. Slowly, you turned, and there he was—a tall figure looming in the shadows, watching you with a twisted smile that sent chills down your spine. The serial killer.

He stood there, casually waiting, like he was enjoying the fear washing over you. Your mind raced. You couldn’t scream for help; no one would hear you. And your phone was dead.

The girl beside you was trembling, her breath shallow. You had to act fast. Without thinking, you bolted, grabbing the girl’s hand and yanking her up. You ran without looking back, your feet pounding the pavement, but she didn’t make it far. A sharp crack echoed behind you, and you glanced back just in time to see her drop lifelessly to the ground, a bullet wound in her back.

The world seemed to slow down. She was dead. But you couldn’t stop. The killer was still chasing you, his footsteps growing louder and faster as he closed the distance between you.

Shadow.

You reached for your phone again, desperately hoping for some battery life, but it was still dead. Panic surged through your veins as you pushed yourself harder, weaving through the empty streets. You needed to get home. Shadow was the only one who could help you now.

The chase seemed to stretch on forever. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your legs burning with exhaustion, but you couldn’t stop. Not with him so close behind.

You stumbled into the city center, a busy square that was always full of people, even at this late hour. You thought you were safe. You thought you could blend in, disappear among the crowd. But the killer was smart—too smart. He approached calmly, weaving a different story to the bystanders, trying to play the part of a concerned citizen.

“She’s dangerous,” he lied smoothly to a nearby woman. “She’s the one who attacked that girl back there. You need to stay away from her.”

You managed to slip away, your heart pounding in your chest. As you ran, your eyes fell on a woman up ahead—the killer had reached her first. He was trying to trick the woman, feeding her lies just as he had before. The woman looked confused, vulnerable. There wasn’t much time.

With no other choice, you sprinted toward the lady, your breath ragged. You had to stop him. You had to end this.

Your hand gripped the knife you'd found on the ground earlier. Without thinking, you plunged it forward—but something went wrong. The killer was quick, and in one swift move, he twisted your action. The knife wasn’t in him—it was in you.

You had stabbed yourself.

But you made sure to grab his hand and wrap it around the knife, making it look like he had done it. Pain radiated through your body as you collapsed to the ground, blood spilling from the wound.

A crowd gathered around you as you collapsed, blood spilling from your wound. The killer stood frozen, the knife still in his hand. It looked like he had stabbed you, not the other way around.

Police sirens wailed in the distance, and everything became a blur. You could feel yourself slipping, the world spinning as the pain dragged you under. But even as darkness crept in, you hoped—prayed—that Shadow would come soon.

When Shadow finally arrived, the first thing he saw was you lying on the ground, surrounded by a sea of horrified onlookers. Your blood stained the pavement, and the killer was being dragged away in handcuffs. The officers were barking orders, but none of that mattered to him.

All he saw was you.

He sprinted over, dropping to his knees beside you, his usual cold demeanor shattered by panic. His hands hovered over your body, unsure of what to do, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Why did this happen…" His voice was low, filled with a fury that he was holding back, trembling with rage and fear.

Your eyes fluttered open, barely, and you could see the anguish on his face. His crimson eyes, usually filled with resolve, were wide with desperation.

Shadow… You signed weakly, your hands trembling. I’m… sorry.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he growled, grabbing your hand, holding it tight as if he could somehow keep you from slipping away. “You… you’re going to be fine. I’ll fix this. I always fix things.”

You could feel the warmth leaving your body, but even through the haze of pain, there was something comforting in the way Shadow refused to let go of you. His grip was firm, strong—like he was anchoring you to life.

His breath hitched as he glanced down at the blood pooling around you. He didn’t know what to do. He could face any enemy, tear through any obstacle, but this—watching you suffer, helpless and bleeding—this was something he couldn’t fight.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice breaking in a way you’d never heard before. “You can’t leave. Not like this.”

The paramedics arrived, but they had to pry Shadow away from you, forcing him to stand back as they worked to stabilize you. His hands were clenched into fists, his body rigid with barely controlled anger. He felt helpless, something he hated. He wanted to lash out, destroy the killer who had done this to you, but you needed him more.

When they finally loaded you into the ambulance, Shadow followed, refusing to leave your side. His eyes never left your face, watching for any sign that you were still with him.

As the ambulance sped through the city, sirens blaring, Shadow reached for your hand again. His usual bravado was gone, replaced with a quiet intensity. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice low but filled with determination. “You’re going to be okay. You hear me? You’re going to be okay.”

Hours passed in a blur, but eventually, you woke up in the hospital. The sterile lights overhead made you squint, your body aching all over. But you were alive.

And there, sitting beside you, his hand still holding yours, was Shadow.

He looked up as you stirred, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of relief and something else—something softer, deeper.

I’m okay, you signed, offering a weak smile.

Shadow let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He squeezed your hand, leaning closer.

“You scared the hell out of me,” he muttered.

You gave a small smile, though it hurt.

But as Shadow leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against yours, you knew—no matter what happened, no matter how dangerous things got—he would always be there.

Always watching. Always protecting you.

[kcwriter-blog]

WIP Wednesday

Got tagged by @thebookworm0001to share my WIP. Thanks! I needed a kick in the rear to keep working on this...

“You can’t keep doing this Solas,” she mumbled. “You can’t keep stealing into my dreams.” She looked up at him, her features twisting in anguish.

He lost his composure, then. His mouth twisted downwards. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears. He raised a hand toward her, full of longing, then dropped it to his side, fisting his hand.

“Didn’t you know?” His voice was hoarse, breaking on the words. “I did not enter your dream. You have entered mine, just as you did at Skyhold so many years ago.”.

“I – what? That’s not… I don’t have the Anchor anymore and I’m no Dreamer.”

“No, but you are a mage. A mage once marked by my magic. Even with the Anchor gone, you have an affinity for the Fade. I surmise your skill has only increased in the interim since I left you.”

“So, the Anchor did change me,” she said, recalling their conversation on her balcony. After she had learned his true identity, she had been a little offended that he thought he was only attracted to her because she was marked by his magic.

“The Anchor did not change you in any way that mattered. You have always had a rare and marvelous spirit. You probably always had an affinity for the Fade. I don’t think anyone else could have survived exposure to the Anchor for as long as you did, even with my help.”

“There’s more isn’t there.

“I suspect your recent brush with death, coupled with the reason you fell unconscious have played a part. Your spirit was searching for safety. This place has always been a sanctuary. “

“You know that’s not true. If I was searching for safety, I would have dreamed I was in Skyhold. I was obviously searching for a person. Why you?”

“You may not like the answer.”

“I never like your answers, anymore.”

He turned away from her. She had to strain to hear his next words.

“Lovers have always called to each other across the Fade. Sometimes, if the attachment is strong enough, they can enter each other’s dreams.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, unable to face her.

She stared at him incredulously. “But that would mean… that you still…and I…” Her voice faltered.

“Did you truly not know?” he asked.

“That you still love me? No. That I still love you? Yes.” she said. Tears began leaking from her eyes, falling unheeded down her cheeks. “I just don’t want to.”

He let out a soft cry of anguish at her words, then knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his.”

“I know, vhenan. Of all the things I have done, this is by far the worst. I knew I was being selfish to grasp at happiness, knowing it could only end in pain. I was weak and you paid the price.”

“We both paid a price. We are still paying it.” She sighed. “And for all that, I cannot regret our time together,” she said. “I should. I still can’t believe the man who cared so deeply for the refugees in the Hinterlands would then condemn them to death simply to assuage his own guilt.”

tagging @arlathvhenan @broodwolf221 @kierarhawke

[lilyharvord]

been thinking about AUs lately, mostly becuase I have had so little time to write due to craziness, and I got back on my bullshit about meeting your soulmate and their first word being tattooed on your skin. And just... the implications of that?

Mare with the word "thief" tattooed on her wrist and having to cover it so as to not give herself away in the Stilts, but when/if she gets caught by officers they see it while they detain her and even if she didn't do anything she ends up locked up for the night because of that word. So she comes to hate it with a passion and tried scrubbing it off, and mutilating it as she grew up to remove it, to hide herself better as she starts to steal more and more to survive. But she would wake up with it perfectly healed. And it is in such pretty penmanship, waaaaay too nice to be a Red's handwritting, or even an officer's in the Stilts. And that scares her, so she forces herself to hold onto the belief that maybe it belongs to some Red who assists a general or something and they have to write a lot and she will meet them at the Choke. When Kilorn sees it for the first time while he is helping clean her up after a particularly bad night in a cell, he realizes he can never be hers because it was no where near his first word to her.

Cal has the word "obviously", and it is so obviously the dumbest fucking word to have. It is literally the most common word. The amount of times he has heard the words "obviously" in his life and turned around only to realize it is someone he already knows? Stupid, absolutely ridiculous. And not to mention that the way it is written on his wrist is horrific and makes him question if this person ever really learned how to write properly. The good news? He can hide it underneath his flamemaker and forget about it if he needs to. And he does, pretty much decides that he'll probably just never meet whoever it is. Besides... he has to marry a lady of a High House, and he's already met all of them and none of them said that word to him on the first go. And it doesn't really matter... it is so rare for a future king to marry their soul mate through Queenstrial anyway. His father was just lucky with his mother, and his grandfather of course met his but got away with keeping him and marrying a Queen. And maybe it's for the best if he never meets this person, it would just be a twist of the knife if he is already married and meets the person who is meant to complete him.

And then, one night, on a dirt road, in the hours before night and dawn, when the stars are still out and the world is dreaming, a thief sticks her hand into the pocket of prince, who catches her wrist, and accuses her with a surprised and confused tone: "thief", and she tilts her head to the side, her eyes sparking as she replies "Obviously". And it takes everything for him not to flip her wrist over and look for the word he just uttered, but he lets go instead, terrified that this is the girl who is meant to come into his life and complete him. And she backs up a step, her eyes darkening as she looks him over anew. Neither comments, neither admits to anything. And Mare is glad for it, because the next day she learns he is a prince, and not just any prince, he is The Prince, and she immediately is relieved because there is no way in all of heaven and earth that she is paired with this man. She didn't see her reply on his wrist... she forces herself to believe that there is a different word tattooed there. That if she were to lift up his sleeve she would see something else, some meaningless word to her, that means everything to him. She never looks though, and he never takes off his flamemaker, so she never has the chance to see.

Then, one evening, in a soldiers barrack, on a Piedmont base in the middle of a summer shower, complete with the distant growl of thunder: Mare glances at his bare arm, wrapped around her bare waist. It would be so easy for her to just, gently turn it and look, to answer the question that has haunted her since a Blackrun fell from the sky, and he held her like they were going to die. She shivers subconsciously and gently reaches down to slide her fingers through his, her heart pounding against her ribs. She can't decide if she wants to see the word there, or if she doesn't. She doesn't know which way would be better, whether it would break her heart if it wasn't, or if she were be terrified if it were. He sighs against her neck and pulls her a little closer when she first goes to rotate his wrist, she freezes, tensing for a heartbeat. He's a soldier, they sleep lightly, and this feels like an invasion even though she has now seen and touched every part of him. For some reason this one spot of skin feels forbidden. Inhaling, she slowly rotates his wrist to face up, and her entire skin erupts in goosebumps as lightning illuminates the room and thunder crashes a heartbeat later. There is her hand writing, her ugly, horrific handwriting, and there is the word she said to him with such tenacity on a dirt road and changed their lives forever. She flips his hand back over and pressed it to her stomach, knots her fingers with his as she tries to slow her breathing back to a sleeping rate. It's no use though, his sigh against her neck is no longer a gentle whisper, but is instead one of relief. "I wanted you to look first." He murmurs against the vertebrae at the base of her skull, before lightly running his lips up to her ear. "I think knew in my heart since the Bowl of Bones." He squeezes her fingers softly, and they never speak of it.

Then he choses a crown, a crown over what those words on their wrists' mean. And that betrayal is so much worse than it ever could have been.