#but at what point is buying something ironically no longer ironic

[goregeous-archive]

From under the cut:

Longer story definition (Major shoutout to Sol for writing this):

Two ears, five... fingers. Ten fingers. Three– no, not three. Two eyes. Your lips had imprints. Teeth? You didn’t bite your lips… wait, no, you did. You did. Five– ten toes. A mirror. A door. The mirror was on the door. Paintings on the wall- you didn’t make those. You didn’t buy them.

Something that was supposed to be a sense of calm washed over you. You didn’t do as you were told. You were not calm, but you were. Your heart was slow. It was always slow. It stopped. It began again. Heartbeat. Slow. Distractions.

Your face peeled itself, like your bone was an eggshell– muscle and fat and skin were all too weak to hold it in. Or maybe your parent’s organs and muscle and fat and skin were too weak, there was no telling. There was no surprise, there was no shock. This was new, but not foreign.

Knees hit the floor. You were staring at it, revealing itself. You watched and observed and took notes. Five senses. Your eyes were intact, despite their torn fate. You didn’t move.

Five things you could see. Eggshell, bone, one. Something green, that was… a dandelion stem. A healthy dandelion, two. It was better if you said details, right? Oh, and a hand. Well, fingers, you didn’t know if it had a hand, three.

Counting is boring. One thing you could touch. The floor. Your hands couldn’t move, but they were touching the floor.

Something, anything to listen to. The sound of your skull splitting. The sound of the blood and stray chunks of flesh and eggshell hitting the floor.

Iron in the air, iron in your mouth. What was left of your mouth. A silver mirror. Your reflection. Something growing through your skull. A baby, you think. Were you their parent?

You saw their hands in the mirror, you saw their cute face, the bubbling blood underneath their skin. They continued to grow. Your neck snapped at a point, head falling forward. You couldn’t see your reflection.

You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t see your baby. You almost panicked, but it was okay. They didn’t cry. You could feel their fresh eyes on your reflection. They knew it was okay.

You would be fine.

[ID 2: A rectangular banner. The background is transparent. On the left side, in 3 different fonts, it reads "Tina and Sol". All the words are outlined in and off-white color. Respectively, their inner colors are duty brown, sage green, and muted coral. On the right side is a png of the first drawing of a mitla. ID End]

[ID 3: A thin brown line, in the center of it is an orange tabby maine coon mix laying down, staring to the side of the viewer. ID End]

[ID 4: A rectangular banner. The border of it has a gradient of orange to pink. In each corner are 3 strawberries and 4 strawberry flowers. Within the border is a light tan rectangle with text. From top to bottom the different blocks of text read, in all caps: "Do not involve my flags or labels in discourse", this is colored red and underlined; "Anyone can use my flags and labels", this is also red; "But I do block freely", this is colored pink. There is a line of small cartoonish strawberries, each separated by little leaves. On the center bottom is a pink to orange gradient rounded rectangle. Within it is a red text in all caps that reads "This blog loves mspec gays and lesbians". On the left of the rectangle is the mspec lesbian flag and on the right is the mspec gay flag. On the left and right of the main rectangle are drawings of calico cats stretching. There are muddy paw prints scattered across the banner. ID End]

Make Way For The Mogai Mitlas...

[PT: Make Way For The Mogai Mitlas... /PT End]

♡♡ Vitaflect ♡♡

[PT: Vitaflect /PT End]

A gender related to dissociation, reflections, gore, counting, body horror, & birth. (check under cut for a longer, story-based definition)

Etymology: [Vita + Reflect], Vita is Latin for life

Coined by both @novaurora and I in collaboration for @rwuffles and @vampitsm 's Mogai Team-Up Event!

Our prompt was: Reflection!

[ID: An 11-striped flag. From top to bottom, the colors are blood red, dark red, bright red, dark green, white, muted light pink, white, dark green, bright red, dark red, and blood red. The 1st stripe seems to be dripping blood of the same exact color from the left corner. The 9th stripe does the same thing from the right corner. The white stripes have cracks in them, like fractured bone. In the center of the flag is a black graphic of someone looking into a mirror. It is outlined in white. ID End]

tagging: @radiomogai @jiiamp @dixons-mogai @the-astropaws (ask to be added/removed)

Longer story definition (Major shoutout to Sol for writing this):

Two ears, five... fingers. Ten fingers. Three– no, not three. Two eyes. Your lips had imprints. Teeth? You didn’t bite your lips… wait, no, you did. You did. Five– ten toes. A mirror. A door. The mirror was on the door. Paintings on the wall- you didn’t make those. You didn’t buy them.

Something that was supposed to be a sense of calm washed over you. You didn’t do as you were told. You were not calm, but you were. Your heart was slow. It was always slow. It stopped. It began again. Heartbeat. Slow. Distractions.

Your face peeled itself, like your bone was an eggshell– muscle and fat and skin were all too weak to hold it in. Or maybe your parent’s organs and muscle and fat and skin were too weak, there was no telling. There was no surprise, there was no shock. This was new, but not foreign.

Knees hit the floor. You were staring at it, revealing itself. You watched and observed and took notes. Five senses. Your eyes were intact, despite their torn fate. You didn’t move.

Five things you could see. Eggshell, bone, one. Something green, that was… a dandelion stem. A healthy dandelion, two. It was better if you said details, right? Oh, and a hand. Well, fingers, you didn’t know if it had a hand, three.

Counting is boring. One thing you could touch. The floor. Your hands couldn’t move, but they were touching the floor.

Something, anything to listen to. The sound of your skull splitting. The sound of the blood and stray chunks of flesh and eggshell hitting the floor.

Iron in the air, iron in your mouth. What was left of your mouth. A silver mirror. Your reflection. Something growing through your skull. A baby, you think. Were you their parent?

You saw their hands in the mirror, you saw their cute face, the bubbling blood underneath their skin. They continued to grow. Your neck snapped at a point, head falling forward. You couldn’t see your reflection.

You couldn’t see anything. You couldn’t see your baby. You almost panicked, but it was okay. They didn’t cry. You could feel their fresh eyes on your reflection. They knew it was okay.

You would be fine.

[ID 2: A rectangular banner. The background is transparent. On the left side, in 3 different fonts, it reads "Tina and Sol". All the words are outlined in and off-white color. Respectively, their inner colors are duty brown, sage green, and muted coral. On the right side is a png of the first drawing of a mitla. ID End]

[ID 3: A thin brown line, in the center of it is an orange tabby maine coon mix laying down, staring to the side of the viewer. ID End]

[ID 4: A rectangular banner. The border of it has a gradient of orange to pink. In each corner are 3 strawberries and 4 strawberry flowers. Within the border is a light tan rectangle with text. From top to bottom the different blocks of text read, in all caps: "Do not involve my flags or labels in discourse", this is colored red and underlined; "Anyone can use my flags and labels", this is also red; "But I do block freely", this is colored pink. There is a line of small cartoonish strawberries, each separated by little leaves. On the center bottom is a pink to orange gradient rounded rectangle. Within it is a red text in all caps that reads "This blog loves mspec gays and lesbians". On the left of the rectangle is the mspec lesbian flag and on the right is the mspec gay flag. On the left and right of the main rectangle are drawings of calico cats stretching. There are muddy paw prints scattered across the banner. ID End]

[cowsaresushi-coral]

how many times can i talk about gabe before people think i’m thirsty.

EDIT: rate my vibes, how do you think i feel about gabe. do you think i’m thirsty/horny, or what have you, or do you think I care deeply about his character or something.

[bi-writes]

hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?

mail-order bride

you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.

you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.

when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.

Riley.

you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.

the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.

he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.

"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."

your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.

"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."

he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.

"said no pets."

your lip trembles.

"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.

when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.

it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.

you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.

he points at the thing and shakes his head.

"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."

you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.

"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.

"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"

he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.

"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"

you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.

"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."

you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."

"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."

when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.

"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."

you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.

you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.

mine.

when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.

simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.

[writers-potion]

when writing enemies to lovers, how to I avoid the trope of “hes mean to me but it’s okay because he likes me” and make the mmc redeemable after being mean, because so far all I have is have her be just as bad 😭 (I don’t know if I worded that right)

Redeeming The Bad Boy Character

Drop Subtle Hints of Redeemability

Okay. Rule Number 1 for romance heroes: They need to be LOVABLE. Full stop. 

Before you start coming up with possible justifications, place the actions of your bad boy on the emotional balancing scale of your girl. Do his real feelings shine through the meanness on the surface?

What readers usually DON’T want to see redeemed is:

Outright lying/manipulating the girl 

Being obsessive and controlling 

Physical/emotional bullying (i.e. stuff that real bullies would do)

“Crossing the line”: This will depend on character - like insulting a disabled sister the girl character feels super protective towards (like NO PLEASE NO)

Even if the “enemy” phase of your romance is meant to be intense, your bad boy needs to display “goodness of heart”. This is easy if you’re switching POVs or 3rd person omniscient where you can show him secretly beating himself in regret, trying to make up with her behind her back although she doesn’t know, etc. 

Even if you’re doing the girl’s 1st person POV, drop subtle hints that the guy character isn’t as mean as the girl is made to believe:

Him having the reputation with friends/teachers/neighbors for being kind 

Him being awarded in school for good deeds

The girl’s friend telling her stories about how the guy actually seems nice. If this is a YA setting, you can even get away with explicit comments like, “maybe you’re judging him too hard”, etc. 

A good example is Bryce  in <Flipped>:

Bryce is an innately shy middle schooler who finds himself inadvertently influenced by his toxic dad, who looks down on the girl (Juli) and her family. 

By flipping over to Bryce’s POV, his reluctance for the “mean” things he’s done is revealed (he’s kinda scared of his dad + he’s never been taught better)

Eventually, Bryce grows up and learns to treat Juli better. 

If you’re going to use family history/backstory as justification, remember:

The backstory doesn’t justify anything by just existing. That’s called an excuse. 

The bad boy needs to have a point of realization and grow up, moving away from his dark past into the light, towards the love interest. 

Misunderstanding

Another way to redeem a bad boy character is to shift some blame on the female character too. In fact, every story has two sides - the girl has her own goals and biases. 

For example:

Academic or workplace rivals: since the girl has to compete with him, she will tend to take offhand comments offensively, etc. 

A third person badmouthing the buy deliberately to the girl

The girl overhearing the guy saying something bad about her (which wasn’t in fact the case) and being determined to not like anything he does after

Make Him Suffer 

If you want to give your girl some backbone, just make her fight back! “Fighting back” can be in different forms:

Ignoring the guy outright

Just giving her another potential love interest who treats her better 

She literally correcting him with awesome logic and maturity that make him shut up

She crying (either out of madness or sadness), then proceeding to avoid him actively

Write about how your bad boy will eventually realize his mistakes and come around after he takes a real blow. Think about why your bad boy is being mean in the first place: it’s to get her attention. Tit-for-tat can work for female characters who have some teeth, but doing the same things he does would mean that she IS giving him attention, which ironically fulfills his initial motives. 

Personally, I think the best way to “fight back” is to no longer give him the attention, hinting that the girl wishes to move on from this unhelpful relationship status. This will set off warning signs in the MMC’s head that if he doesn’t change his ways, she would be gone for good. 

The point is, if your girl cannot tolerate something, you can’t make her sit around. If your boy is mean and immature, she needs to be the one to take the mature step - and walk away.

Apologizing in the Other Character’s Style

What the MMC will need to do to gain the girl’s attention back will depend on what she thinks, but this will often involve:

Explaining his true motivations/resolving the misunderstanding

A genuine apology 

Spending some time apart during which he can reflect and make up to her 

Undoing the damage, if this is possible

If she’s been just as bad as him on occasions, make her reciprocate the apology! Re-establish healthy boundaries that didn’t exist before, and show how they stick to it. 

[cyyfics]

Hello! May I please request some SFW headcanons for both Simon and the Winter King with a feminine and girly S/O?

—————

Girly S/O Hc’s

Pairing: Simon x reader x Winter King

Warning(s): None!!! Yay!!!!

Note: I hope I did this right aaaaaaaa

Mainly just did some of the ‘girly stuff’ (I consider girly stuff) that I do basically

IM SRRY ITS A BIT SHORT I didn’t rlly know what to write hhhhhh

—————

Simon

- he loves seeing the outfits you wear, he likes how some of your high heels make your legs look longer, he likes how when you wear frilly skirts you twirl around so it moves with you.

- he likes watching you put makeup on, he can’t understand how you’re able to do it. Until maybe you force him to let you try it on him. He doesn’t enjoy it, hates the feeling of all the brushes and powders and liquids put onto his face but he doesn’t say much “I think some of it got in my mouth.” But in the end he’s feeling real pretty.

- does not enjoy it when you wear lip gloss, yes he finds you absolutely gorgeous. But he hates the feeling when you kiss him, leaving sticky prints on his skin. Not in a bad way though, most times you wear it you kiss him just to annoy him.

- he will talk with you and keep you company while you do things, wether you’re sitting at a mirror putting on your makeup or you’re by a power point trying to blow dry your hair. He will be there hanging out with you, maybe helping you if you ask for something.

- I’d say that you force him to watch silly chick flicks with you, but it’s honestly the other way around. No one would expect but he’s really into those movies, and it just helps that you are too! You two love to cuddle and lay together on the couch watching mainly 2000’s girl movies or romcoms.

Winter King

- he will buy you clothes. If he can. if he has the money to do so I assure you that he would buy you whatever you wanted from the store, even if your eyes just linger for a moment too long at something he would be buying it for you.

- He likes it when you kiss him and leave prints all over his skin, either on his cheek or smudged onto his lips, he loves it. he likes other people seeing him afterwards and having them know that you two shared a kiss, that he was yours.

- He will straighten/curl your hair for you if you ask him to, even if you don’t he will still be there with you while you do it. I feel like he could do something to help your hair with the heat of the iron damaging your hair, but I’m not sure how to describe it. Something to do with his ice powers.

- he cleans your pillow for you when you’re out of bed. He will be picking up each strand of hair and will be disposing of it before the two of you go to bed again.

- he loves seeing the makeup looks you can do, he finds it amazing- beautiful, wonderful, he can’t just use words to describe it. He finds it very artsy.

- he will at some point attempt to help you with your makeup and he will fail. Somehow.

[adventuringblind]

Chin Up, Princess (2k words)

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jos oversteps and causes a whole lot of hurt for Max and his mate, he takes things into his own hands and ends up resorting to extreme measures in order to save his lover. (Background Landoscar, Charlos, and Sewis)

Warnings: Mind control, talks of eating people and mentions of gore but nothing explicit, ghoul on ghoul violence, burning of a character, major character death (not a good guy tho), ED but like... also not an ED, soulbonds

Notes: Ironically the most tame ghoulverse fic I've done thus far. Thank you to🏍️for the amazing idea!!

Side Note: Feed my praise kink please?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It’s raining again. The kind of rain Monaco doesn’t see often. The torrential downpour that keeps everyone hidden away inside to keep warm. 

She watches the water droplets race down the window, wondering which one will hit the edge first. It’s not productive, but she needs something to distract her from the ache in her bones. The hunger pains have gotten progressively worse over the last three weeks. Still, she’s finding ways to cope. She has to manage; the pain is what’s keeping her sane. 

 It’s nice being home and hidden behind the water covered window. It means she’s free to drop the human look. All horns and tail, long tongue and sharp teeth, dark eyes and pointed ears. It’s natural - or it used to be. 

It doesn’t quite feel like her anymore. Like somehow everything that had once been a part of her is now irritating. Her horns are heavy and her tail refuses to be anywhere but the ground. All because his words sit in her head and bounce around the cavity in her chest. 

He changed her. 

~~~♡~~~

A month ago, she ran into Jos in the paddock. Even though she doesn’t like the guy, he’s still technically her king - and Max’s dad - so her father in law in a way. Max had mated with her (a heavenly feeling) but had done so without the consent of his father. 

Jos doesn’t like her one bit. Which she doesn’t care about. If Max is the prince of the demons and set to take up leadership at some point, that makes her a princess. They both dislike each other but in the essence of keeping things civil, she makes it work. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here today!” She nodded her head to show respect. Opting for that instead of bowing to this man in broad daylight. 

“I wish I hadn’t seen you at all!” Well - fuck you too - she supposes. She’d fallen into step beside him as they made their way to the Redbull garage. 

She nearly crashes into him when he stops abruptly. He grabs hold of her bicep and drags her down some alleyway between buildings. She goes with compliance, hell only knows what this man can and will do to her. 

Her back hits the wall with a disorienting force. “You’re not enough for us.” 

“I think you mean for you.” 

Jos hisses close enough to her face that she can feel his saliva hitting her. “The council decided you’re not one of us-'' He grabs her chin and she watches as his eyes fade to that deep dark color that usually means something bad is about to happen.

“You will not eat. You are not one of us. Am I clear?” 

She snaps at him. Her attempt at fighting his hold is futile. Not when the damn demon king is trying to hypnotize her. “No!” 

He clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. The open flame hovers just above the healed over scar on her clavicle. She shakes, desperate to get away from the heat. “You will not eat. You are not a ghoul. You are not one of us.”

It’s a hypnotic tone that seeps through her ears and floods her veins. The heat of the flame no longer her one weakness as her mind submits itself to the will of her king. 

~~~♡~~~

Her jaw snapped shut. Her vocal chords refused to work. Her throat constricts around liquids. Her teeth become glued to each other each time she tries to bite down into something of nutrients. 

A month of this torture and she can feel herself getting progressively more ravenous. Slowly they’ve exhausted all of their options. No matter how desperately she tries, she can’t get any substance into her. 

Max’s reflection appears in the window. A frown etched upon lips. It doesn’t suit him; Max was made to smile. She likes being the one to cause it. These days it feels like all he’s doing is trying to ease her slow and painful death. 

He sits opposite of her and heaves out a gust of warm air on the window. His pointer finger paints a simple picture of a stick figure. It’s - objectively - a terrible drawing, but it serves its purpose and makes her laugh. 

“I’m scared, Max.”

“I know, schat.” 

They continue to stare out the window. The bond doing the talking for them, passing their emotions back and forth. He can feel her pain and she can feel his inner rage. 

Humans don’t understand. Maybe they never will. They fear those who are different. Think this way and do this thing or you're a monster. Certainly not all of them. Lando and Charles are prime examples of this. Still - surviving amongst them gets harder each day. 

“I know what you want to do.” She turns towards him. Unbidden in the comfort of their own home. His tail flicks in uncertainty. A habit he picked up from Sebastian. “I don’t want you to regret it.” 

“It’s inevitable. Just earlier than planned.” He won’t meet her gaze. “I can’t watch you suffer when I can stop it.” 

“You have always been the chivalrous type.”

Max slides closer to her. His thumb comes to the underside of her chin and pushes it upward. Her eyes have nowhere else to go, forced to get lost in his. A never-ending sea of endless dark that she’d willingly drown in. 

“Chin up, love. There is going to be a crown on your head soon. I’d hate to see it hit the ground.”

~~~♡~~~

She hates not being able to go inside. She understands why she can’t though. She already has the weight of one hypnosis spell weighing her down; she’s more susceptible to another. 

Still, waiting is nerve wracking. The sound of familiar roars fill her ears. Occasionally wincing when she feels Max’s pain. Mild compared to what it is for him. 

Lando and Charles are sitting on the ground with her. Their mates are inside with Max, along with Lewis and Sebastian. She attempts to hold close to the bonds of their tribe. They’ve been planning this for the last couple of weeks. Every hole is plastered with flexi tape. 

“Relax, chéri. They are fine.” 

She won’t open her mouth to mutter a thanks. Not when she’s already salivating and can smell exactly where their pulse points are. Not when she can hear the steady rhythm of their hearts. 

No, she can’t eat, but she’d also rather not risk it. 

“Do we have to bow to you after this whole ordeal is over?” Lando looks at her with a curious expression. “Cause like - Oscar doesn’t bend like that.”

Both her and Charles gape and the odd statement. Lando looks like he’s just stated the weather on an average Monday morning. 

“Lando, are you sure it’s not you who doesn’t bend like that?”

“I think I know how I can bend mate! How do you think we broke the table-“

Charles grimaces, his nose scrunching up and cheeks turning red. “Bleh! I don’t need to know how Oscar bends you.” 

“You asked!”

“And now I regret it…”

Another roar bellows into the night sky. It’s loud and painful. She looks to the boys beside her for confirmation that it’s not Oscar or Carlos. They nod at her, leaving only three options. 

She bolts inside. 

The roars turn to whines. The fire rages over the body of Jos Verstappen. Max has sunk to his knees, the sunset hues of the flames reflect in his eyes and illuminate the tear tracks on his cheeks. 

She falls beside him. Panicked hands search for any possible wounds; any burns in need of immediate attention. Max is crying as she does so, but he’s smiling at the same time. There are a million emotions running through the room. The large flames a mercy to the now deceased king. 

A fallen king lay before them. His body burned to ashes. They watch as he is devoured by the fire. The silence is deafening. The only noise being the roar of the flames. An irony that doesn’t go unnoticed. To feel serene with the one thing that would surely kill her if the starvation doesn’t first. 

Max is the first to approach the pile of ashes on the ground. He creeps up to it like they might reanimate. Like they might take back what they once had and reestablish their hold on her mind with no chance at her escape. 

Sebastian meets Max in the middle. He scoops handfuls of the ash and decorates Max’s skin. The Dutch looks miserable when Sebastian dumps a handful into Max’s own cupped hands. 

“Do I have too?”

“Do you want your fathers powers?” 

He groans, but doesn’t wait any longer. He tries to be serious, but there is an element of humor here despite the situation. 

“Does this mean Max is a cannibal now?!” She supposes Lando is trying to whisper, but the building they are in echoes. He chokes when he hears it. 

“Lando! I am trying to eat my father!” 

“So you are a cannibal!” 

Oscar slaps a hand over his mate's mouth. Briefly, a look of disgust flashes across his face. “If you  really think licking me will work, you are mistaken.” Muffled sounds from underneath Oscar’s hand escape, but nobody understands. 

Max is finally able to choke down the ashes of his father. Certainly not the most conventional of coronations, but she can’t picture it any other way. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where we were dropping to our knees for this guy.” Carlos chuckles from somewhere beside her as they close in on the new king. 

Not a prince anymore - a king. 

It suits him more, she thinks. Standing tall in front of his tribe, still laughing at Lando and Oscar and their odd positioning. At Carlos and his playful pride as he kneels. He exchanges a smile with Charles after years of rivalry now comes a shared respect. He turns endearingly to Sebastian and Lewis looking at him like proud parents. 

Then to her. She’s on the ground, her knees bruised already. Max pulls her up into his arms. He brings his hands to her jaw and once again she drifts into the calm of his endless eyes. 

Soft fingers massage her jaw. The one that aches with a desperate need for something she hasn’t had in so long. He’s gentle with her, like an antique porcelain doll that might break if he applies too much pressure. 

“You are worthy of every good thing. You are one of us, just as you always have been and you are deserving of your life.” 

The cement that had been fire in her veins vanishes as he speaks. Max keeps talking, but she’s too lost in the relief from these heavy feelings - the euphoria of knowing she belongs again. The cavern of her chest is beating with words of comfort. 

Her horns don’t feel like extra weights and her tail finds Max’s with immediate ease. They intertwine like they had before. 

“You are here and loved. You have a place with us.” He tilts her chin upward like he’s done since they mated. “Chin up, your highness, you’re a queen now.” 

~~~♡~~~

Sated. 

Her body aches from a full belly instead of the hunger pains. As does the rest of their tribe, she presumes. 

Max keeps getting phone calls… and he keeps ignoring them. Instead opting to keep his attention focussed on his tribe. His love for them - for her - is radiating through his every move. 

“I think King Max sounds good on you.” She flashes her teeth at him. The others are either chatting, or if you’re Oscar then you’re using Lando as a blanket and sleeping. They are paying no attention to them. 

“You think? I’d always resented it.” 

“You’re going to change things, Max. That’s not something to resent.” They hook tails again, a comfort she’d missed dearly. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now since you saved my life. I’m going to be the most demanding queen.” She waves her hand around for dramatic flair. 

“Oh yeah? How so?” 

“First I’m going to demand that you cuddle me - and I’ll figure out the rest later!” 

“As you wish, your highness.” 

[sunny44]

I can’t do this anymore

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Warnings: fights and mentions of divorce.

Summary: Y/n is tired of living in a marriage where she is the only one who puts him as a priority.

Next chapter

I knew that marriages were not easy, and I also knew that it would be hard to be married to a guy who spends most of the year away from home.

Carlos and I met when we were 20, dated for 5 and have been married for 3, we have never had any problems that would make me think about not being with him anymore.

But lately this thought has been haunting me and silently torturing me.

We are already at a stage in our relationship where we should be thinking about having a family, or are already trying to.

Actually I was thinking about it but it seems that Carlos wants to avoid this thought at all costs.

I try to bring him into a conversation and he cuts me off, changes the subject or even says that he can't be a father right now.

This weekend was the race in Spain and me and his family were here cheering for him.

"Are you okay honey?" His mother asks.

"Yeah, just a little nauseous." At the same time she smiles.

"Honey that's great, I knew you and Carlos were at that part of the relationship but I didn't think it was this close."

"No, no I'm not pregnant." Her smile fades. "I wanted to but I'm not and I don't think I will be for a long time."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing." I try to deflect the subject.

"Come on, let's get some coffee." I sigh and go with her.

After we buy the coffees and find a quieter place and she returns to the subject.

"Is something going on with you and Carlos? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, or at least I think so."

"Do you want to tell me?"

"It's just that we've been together for many years now and I thought by this point in our relationship we'd be planning to have a family and everything but Carlos doesn't seem very interested in that." I took a sip of my coffee. "I guess we are at different points in our lives."

"And that worries you doesn't it?"

"It's just that Carlos has putting his career first more than anything right now and I know how important it is to him and that's not a problem for me, it never has been. It's just that at the end of it all what we have in life is our family and I don't want to have to wait any longer for him to decide he wants to before we get started."

"I'm sorry about that." I smiled and wiped my tears away.

"It's okay." She smiles and we remain silent.

…

We were already back at home, Carlos had come in second place and obviously wasn't one of the happiest but he wasn't unhappy either.

"Can we talk?" I asked sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I'm tired now."

"But you're not to watch soccer aren't you." I said ironically starting to get up but he held my hand and turned off the TV.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's talk."

"We're fine aren't we?"

"Of course we're fine, why are you asking that?”

"Because I feel like every time I go to talk to you about our family or the lack of it you cut me off and change the subject and that makes me feel like you don't want or you don’t want with me."

"Love is not that." He comes closer and wipes a tear that has run down my cheek. "It's not that I don’t want to have a family with you but we can't right now."

"What do you mean we can't now?"

"It's just that I really feel like I have a chance to win this year and I can't have any distractions." At this I laughed wryly.

"Distractions? Is that what I am to you? A fucking distraction." I get up from the couch. "I’m sorry Carlos that I'm a distraction to you and that me thinking about our future is something that bothers you so much, but I'm not going to stand here and let my life pass me by just because you don't want to have a family."

"What does that mean?"

"That I can't do this anymore." He got up from the couch. "I don't want to wait around anymore waiting for you to decide whether or not to have children because I want to, I want to be a mother, I want to leave something in this world after I die and I'm not going to wait around for you anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"I want a divorce."

"What? Babe don’t say that."

"I've already made up my mind Carlos. I've been thinking about it for a while and I didn't want this because I love you so much but you're leaving me no other option." He tries to get close to me but I pull away. "I'm going to get my things and go to my parents house and I'm going to start divorce proceedings as soon as possible."

I didn't even let him speak, I just went upstairs to our room and grabbed a suitcase and started putting some things inside.

When I came downstairs he was sitting on the couch in shock.

"I'll get the rest of my stuff another time." He doesn't even look at me and I even think he heard well so I just walked out leaving my whole life behind.

And that's when I realized that the worst feeling is when you don't want to give up on someone but you know you have to.

Let me know if you guys are interested in a part 2

[ohbloggerimagines]

Hello! How are you? I hope your day is going swell :)

I love your possessive/protective!Rocket X Reader headcanons! The subconscious actions of him trying to keep her safe are so CUTE

Would I be able to request a oneshot of when the Guardians were out, Rocket noticed someone, or a group, staring at (Y/N), so he walked behind her, blocking their view of her ass.

Maybe he pat her hip/ass, something that was a normal thing between Rocket and (Y/N), so she just instinctively scratches behind his ears while Rocket glares or smirks at the stranger/s.

i feel like i could've done better with this one so i might end up redoing it ;;

also i refuse to belive gamora and peter are no longer together so just believe they are ! ill die on that hill

pairing: rocket raccoon x fem!reader

word count: 558

tags: gotg, rocket raccoon x reader, fem! reader, possesive rocket

“Rocky!” You shouted happily, pointing to one of the many shops within Contraxia, almost swooning over the handmade beanies being sold. “The hell you need one of those for? I can make you one! Besides, you get one every time we come here!” He grumbled, waving the shop off and making you groan and roll your eyes. 

You and the Guardians needed a break, deciding to stop off at your favorite icy planets for a few drinks. It was pretty packed that day, Rocket making sure you stayed close to him and the group in general with all the idiots and pickpocketers around. 

Passing the Iron Lotus, you watched Peter’s wandering eyes almost get slapped out of their sockets by Gamora, making you and Mantis snicker. You two were good friends, being able to have girl talk without being judged was nice. You stepped a little ahead Rocket, lightly bumping Mantis and striking up conversation about how cold it was, and all the little things you two definitely needed to buy. 

“I saw this super cute jacket last time we were here, hopefully I can find it before we go. It would look so good on you!” You conversed with her, “You think? We must find it later!” Mantis beamed, excited to hang out with you. 

Rocket’s head was on a swivel, watching every single person that walked by or even those who stood at the shops. He was not taking any chances with idiots this time. 

There were so many..men everywhere. His nerves were on edge.

Finally, the crew made it to their favorite hole in the wall bar, the Whistling Outpost. Quant enough that nothing too crazy went on, but it was never a dull vibe inside. There was a line outside the door, a guard checking everyone's name on his tablet to make sure they weren’t letting in any stowaways or general freaks. 

Peter and Gamora were in the front, behind them was Drax and Nebula, followed by you and Mantis still chattering away, with a very attached raccoon at your side. 

He could feel the eyes not only on him but on you. Rocket’s eyes scanned around slowly to find the idiot who thought it was a good idea to stare at what was his. There was a group of them, dirty, drunk, and daring, staring and pointing while making quiet suggestive comments the keen raccoon could hear. Rocket decided not to make a big deal tonight, he just wanted to relax..

Instead, he slyly turned his body to face you, blocking their view of your ass and anything else they might want to stare at, creating a barrier but not making too much of an issue. He glanced over at the group, noticing a slight change in their stature. Rocket gently tapped your ass, his paw sliding to your belt loop and hooking his finger through it to hang on to you. 

You felt his comforting touch and without missing a beat you glanced down at him and scratched lightly behind his ear, smiling at him before going back to talking Mantis’ ear off.

Rocket grinned, turning back to the drunken group, taunting them with his smirk. The look of defeat on their faces was enough for him to enjoy it.

No one got to look at you when he was around.

[trickstermiraculous]

Miraculous Court Revived Au

This au is based off the idea of Marinette revving the guardians through her classmates.

Basic Facts:

Lila has been found out but the staff still believe her

Ladybug and Chat Noir has revealed their identities after Master Fu passed over guardianship

Miracle queen didn’t happen (Chloe gets a redemption)

Adrien and Marinette had a big conversation on boundaries (with Chat Noir constant confessions/refusal to listen to Ladybug and Marinette borderline stalking, it was desperately needed) and decided on friendship for now so their relationship is healthy

Think only s1 s2 s3

Story:

Both Marinette and Adrien agreed to lend out the miraculous permanently but they did it slowly over a year

Not every hero shows up to an akuma at first but most do now as hawkmoth keeps getting stronger the longer they have the miraculous

Which ironically is something happening to the heroes with them gaining effects outside their suits such as animal traits, super strength/speed and small amount of their powers

The Kwamis explained that this is not unusual and many past users who last longer ended up being tightly bonded to their miraculous which made them into demigods (the class being all true holders just made this happen sooner in the development unlike others who had this happen when they were adults)

Over time the class got more feral but not something that was insanely noticeable until another heroes day incident which ended up with class (plus Kagami and Luka) revealing their identities to each other in order to have a stronger support systems as shit was getting worse and worse with the akumas becoming more deadly and horrific

This cause the class to basically become feral in an actual noticeable manner (think Feralnette au vibes but with the whole class)

They also focused way more on the hero jobs, learning martial arts, weapons training, gymnastics, dance, first aid, civilian control tactics

It was Chloe who brought up the idea because while these classes were great, it was too public so why not get a secret base? Like other heroes do

Between her money and her dad’s complete refusal to go against her and never looking into what she was doing, it was a perfect way to hide a secret base and there are a lot of old warehouses/old buildings needing to be bought up so no would really notice

Even so Max and Alix pointed out that even if that was the case wouldn’t it look odd for a bunch of teenagers to keep visiting a random building/warehouse

It took a lot of brain storming but eventually it was surprisingly Kim that had a solution even if it would be complicated as fuck to accomplish

BUILD A BUSINESS

Confused at first, Adrien asked for an elaboration

Well Marinette wants her own fashion brand, Alya wants to be reporter, Nino wants a music/movie career, Kitty Section has started a career already and just needs to be sign to a label but also has their own job wants outside like Myleen/Ivan/Rose’s charity work and Julaka Modelling career, Marc/Nathaniel wants to make comics, Alix wants to expand her art career/sports career, he wants his own sports career as well, Max wants to build more inventions to improve technology for the world, Adrien wants to also work in science (if not work in food) and Chloe/Sabrina like business in general

so why not just combine all their talents and build a jack of all trades enterprise like other big corporations tend to do

It would also be a good cover to build up the Miraculous Guardians again like Marinette and Adrien wants because you can’t really build something like that out in open anymore without it sounding like a cult.

The Plan/Effects:

So that was the plan, it helped keep their parents off their case, could work on it during school because basically everyone there expect for Lula or Kagami (both helping on music and security branches)

It was a slow build as buying a hood building took a while so did all the legal issues but Chloe, Sabrina, Kagami, Adrien and Marinette helped due to the rich kid background, police father and Marinette’s small business that had been set up with the help of Jagged.

The business didn’t really come first though at least they were not openly promoting it.

First they worked on their hero reputation/brands by increased public interactions with more patrols (more heroes means easier ways to spread out patrols), working with the police for normal crimes like how many other heroes in America do (I’m thinking dc crossover not the canon ones), social media presence for better alerts/info to public/a way to see more down to Earth and relate to people (since come what teenager type hero is not going to shit post/meme about their lives)

And it worked more people support them, helping bring more hope as the new need for more heroes got people worried that hawkmoth was winning, the government was starting to help out more (double edged sword thou as that meant a bigger work load for other crimes) which made them express that even when hawkmoth was defeated they wouldn’t minds them sticking around to help Paris since most hero’s tend to stick to America

The main cover business started to become popular after making themselves more known openly with Ladyblog being officially under the company banner, Marc/Nathaniel’s comics also coming under the brand, Max’s new hero endorsed akuma alert app and Hero Website also coming under the company, Kitty Section joining with the start of company’s music records, famous jagged stone endorsed designer known as MDC also joining.

All these popular thing helped it grow quite fast and with the fact most of them being young teens helped make the media especially interested in how fast they were raising in popularity because it wasn’t everyday you see a group of teenagers build such a big company at their age.

That’s all I got so far to be honest.

Notes:

Adrien has to sneak around his father still but with the business he had chloe help him to threaten Gabriel to back off (threaten to go to the press about how he’s unfairly treated)

Kagami and Lula while out of the class have ended up close with most of them over time before the reveal

Parents are just happy their kids are having fun and building up their future careers

Kwamis are protective as hell with class while also are all really happy with being out after being stored into the box for so long

Teachers and the rest of the school tend to avoid or be more harsh on the akuma class (Lila being the cause for the staff issues)

They are now around the age of 16-17

The hero team is now known as the Miraculous Court due to how the public has heard them use their old titles that the guardians used to use such as Lady Of Luck, Duke of Destruction, Seers of Time, Knight Of The Elements, etc.

If you guys have an idea on what the Business should be comment below (currently only idea is Lucky Enterprise)

[kayvsworld]

my roman empire is that i’m convinced there had to have been a second surgery during tony’s captivity. listen. listen. we don’t see it suddenly he just Has the arc reactor but ok. the electromagnet looks. fairly shallow. like we can see the bit that is the electromagnet and it’s in there a Little bit it’s not Fit Your Entire Hand In There like the casing for the reactor is later. there also isn’t an obvious like… casing around it. it’s just kind of Thing On There.

they had to fit the reactor in there somehow. likely had to make the existing,,,, space, deeper. i just… i’m obsessed with all the spaces during the captivity that we don’t see. did tony tell yinsen what he was doing? at what point did they have the discussion of how to get it in there? they had cameras! it must have been obvious at some point that whatever he was making was Not a bomb. especially when they got to having install it. and also “install” is. not a word that really conveys exactly what would have had to happen holy shit.

(also again, gotta be how stane knows about the reactor in the first place, right? the rings would have known about it and he was in contact with them. it wasn’t rhodey or pepper who told him.)

also. something i cannot stop thinking about. the “it could power your heart for a lifetime/or something big for 15 minutes” conversation and how that is one of Thee thrulines in both im1 and 2. tony consistently choosing to use the reactor in ways that make it more dangerous for him.

also. do you think that tony knew it would poison him. do you think even as he was making it and preparing to get it put in his chest he knew the palladium was going to be a problem. do you think he was always, from the second he woke up attached to a car battery, operating on the assumption that he was living on borrowed time?

i just. augh. AHHHH. im1 + 2 movies that make me INSANE

OH ONE HUNDRED PERCENT I AM ALWAYS SAYING THIS. YOURE RIGHT

the electromagnet was surface level. the reactor has Housing it has a big metal tunnel into his chest that pepper can stick her whole hand down to fish out an electromagnet and she has to play operation not to have the wire touch the casing on the way back out there is a Foundation Of Metal going on. also based on how it works there's definitely a pacemaker type of deal installed at some point here

guy has a titanium pringles can in his chest and it's got to be bolted into his ribcage so it doesn't move around like the first thing he and yinsen are drafting in that cave is 100% a solution for"how do we fit this thing into my chest without killing me" there just has to be a second surgery. and tony is NOT a doctor he is NOT a surgeon so yinsen's input is definitely needed here to make sure it also doesn't. like. kill him horribly god the cave sequence is grim

(obadiah knowing about the reactor from the 10 rings is both better and worse than finding out from rhodey thanks i'm pacing around the room)

raza doesn't look that surprised when he sees the reactor in tony's chest?? so i think we have to assume that at least Some conversation was had re: "listen the thing you want him to build is going to take longer than the week he has to live, the math does not check out, we have do to this one thing first" but like how tense was it buying that kind of time. i'm fine

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ REVISION BY KADIGAN......

also YEAH i DO think he knew as he was making it that the palladium was going to be a problem i think he started keeping tabs on it from the second he got home, iron man 1 and iron man 2 are just part 1 and part 2 of the same movie they're continuous they're back to back they're so good they make me insane

[thelureking]

I had this idea to make a list of all the games I played in 2022, half as a recommendation list, and half because I struggle to remember when I played what. I have a really bad time ranking stuff, so I'll just list them chronologically (or, as chronologically as I can remember).

Note: Sometimes I dont have a lot to say about a game, but that doesnt mean I didn't like it or that it isn't good.

So, with that being said:

1) Our Life: Beginnings and Always

This game has put visual novels on another level entirely. How must I go on knowing that I will never be treated like royalty by any other game like this did. Our Life tells the story of your friendship and/or romance with Cove Holden, your new neighbor. This Visual Novel remembers an insane amount of stuff you choose, and it can put you in the state of mentioning something you did as a kid that you completely forgot about. I actually really liked how you can go the entire game as just friends, or choose when your character develops romantic feelings. I cannot overstate how well made this entire thing is. Can't wait to play the DLCs and for the sequel to be released.

Absolute recommend.

2) Iron Lung

If you have a computer, you can play it. It is not an option.

Claustrophobic above all, this game captures the pure dread of the unknown, building tension and atmosphere as you travel through this unknown planet's red sea. Highly recommended.

3) An Outcry

Amazing game that I don't see enough people talking about. The first game that made me actually physically ill while playing an alternative route. I don't know what hit me the most, the subject matter or the type of person I played in that route, a person I know exists and maybe I've met, a person I hope I never become. I knew what the game was specifically referencing, but I found it good that it was able to trigger that response on someone who lives in an entirely different place, with different historical events, but with enough similarities that made the feeling of dread and disgust that much real. Its message is clear and loud as it should be, and one that I think maybe now more than ever needs to be heard. I cannot recommend this game enough.

4) Stillwater

Now this is a Visual Novel that I really liked and would have loved for it to be longer, but I love it as it is. It left me wanting more about the world and its characters, and I think that's a good thing. It feels unfair that this is the one I typed the least about, knowing how much I liked it. It's really worth the read/play.

5) The Caribbean Sail

Have you ever wanted to be a sailor or a pirate? Have you ever wanted to grab a ship, sail into unknown destinations, encounter supernatural phenomenons and watch as your fellow crew members die of disentry five seconds after leaving your first port? Because if so, I have the perfect game for you. It's inspired by the Oregon Trail game, and that's literally what the gameplay is like, except on the sea. Which was enough of a selling point for me.

6) Carrion

My child, it has every disease. Loved the concept when I saw the trailer, forgot I can actually buy games now, and then proceeded to do that. Being able to live my fantasies of being a flesh creature that destroys and eats everything in its path was a delight. The creature is my child and I love it very much.

We need more games that let you play as the monster, I'm serious.

7) The Life and Suffering of Sir Brante

This game is both my beloved and the thorn on my side. Who would have thought that in a game like this you would proceed to suffer through life? I said to myself as if I hadn't known what I was getting into. You'll experience loss, you'll struggle to make a name for yourself, your family will fall apart, and you may never kiss your best friend Tommas who gave you a totally platonic ring to commemorate your friendship because the game doesn't want you to.

Or you'll have a different experience than me on my first playthrough.

You follow the titular Sir Brante from the moment of his birth to his last breath, exploring the world he lives in, full of injustices that at times made me go "I do not care about the lots, give me a fucking gun so I can take you to the fucking Twins". There are many branches regarding life paths, the fate of your family and that of the entire city you live in. But don't worry about it now, keep looking at those toy soldiers at the store as a little kid, I'm sure nothing will happen in the future.

8) Princess Maker 2 Refine

And apparently I didn't get enough of walking a kid through life.

Who looks at a game about raising a little girl by managing her monthly schedule and balancing her stats, health and money and says "yes, this is the game I'll play to destress"?

I do that. Don't ask why.

I have only reached two endings, in one my beautiful daughter became the royal painter, her art held as the most beautiful and inspiring in the entire world. In another, my girl made a name for herself by exploring the lands surrounding the kingdom, so fast on her feet nobody could even scratch her; she married a dragon prince and became the teacher of her own fighting school.

And even with all of that, her goddess mother was not happy.

So yes, this is the "divorced dad who got custody" experience.

9) Planescape: Torment

What can change the nature of a man? That is a question posed by one Ravel Puzzlewell, night hag of the Gray Wastes. It is one of the many questions that this game asks, intertwined by the many philosophies it presents. Planescape Torment does not stick to one question, it asks many, and it lets you answer.

It is a beautifully written game, one of the best I have ever read. There is one moment that I do not wish to spoil, but it still sticks to my head months after I experienced it. As a writer, I found myself fascinated by how a certain event was told, all because of the way it was presented.

It feels like an injustice to not talk in length about Planescape: Torment, but I seriously don't want to spoil anyone who hasn't played it yet. A blind experience is fully worth it. All you need to know is that this is the game that made me post for the first time here, two dumb memes for myself and one short analysis that sometimes reminds me that yes, people can interact with it. Shameless link to it here

10) Growing my Grandpa!

If I had to describe this game without saying too much, I would say it's "heartwarming horror". Two words that don't usually go together, but that they perfectly fit here. The story is, like the title says, about growing your grandpa, more like helping a girl grow her grandpa, but still. Strangely sweet and unnerving, I was tense the entire time, and even when I had to replay it to get the second ending (this was entirely my fault, since I could have gotten it way easier) that tension never left.

11) FAITH: The Unholy Trinity

I don't remember how I found out about this game, but I remember waiting patiently for it to get a steam release so I could buy it and play its three chapters all together. The day finally came, and all that waiting was worth it.

The gameplay is simple, yet the developers found a way to have me both crying in fear and frothing by the mouth out of anger every time I saw the game over screen (affectionately). In terms of difficulty, I would say the game is easy until it isn't, looking at you Chapter 2 and 3 Final Bosses, you bastards. Then again, I saw people say they struggled in places I didn't, so I would say it depends on the player.

The story is so interesting and it's still marinating in my brain please I need people to talk about how the prologue of chapter 2 and the one note in chapter 3 relate please. The cutscenes are also so well done, and I had to restrain myself from using one as a second picture because I didn't want to spoil any of them.

All in all, a must play, fully recommend it.

And remember:

GARY LOVES YOU

12) Inmortal Mantis

This is a tricky one. On one hand, the game starts off by basically spelling out every action you have to do, and suddenly it goes full on "fuck around and find out" mode. On the other, the game implements some interesting mechanics that I would love to see developed on a longer game, but I am not going to put the length against it while knowing how hard it is to make a game. And maybe being short plays in its favor.

13) Who's Lila?

This game is my King in Yellow. I cannot stop thinking about it. I finished it with all endings and achievements in a day, and it wont leave me alone. It is always there, forever crawling at the back of my head, stretching itself over my brain and weaving my thoughts into a spiral as easily as a spider weaves its thread. It made itself a home in my mind and I won't kick it out any time soon. I played it because the concept of controlling a character's face in place of a dialogue wheel was interesting, and the story and the way it's presented (hand in hand with the gameplay) lured me deeper and deeper. I cannot even describe it without giving it the praise it deserves. It takes full advantage of its medium. Playing this game is an experience that I can't recommend enough, and I'm surprised it hasn't gotten the recognition it deserves.

14) Someone stole MY LUNCH!

This visual novel is pure fun. The humor is so good I found myself reading the entire thing out loud while wheezing. I actually found out recently that it's made by the same people that made Stillwater, which, looking at it now I should have known. It's good and I'm not still over not seeing that one joke coming; well played.

15) MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF MILK INSIDE OF A BAG OF-

... INSIDE A BAG OF MILK is a short visual novel about a girl going to the grocery to buy milk, and the challenge this seemingly small action can be. It is your responsibility to help her through this.

The steam page description perfectly summarizes it: "This is an artistic manipulation with word and form, only then - a game."

Reblog with more games

Or, you can jump to the 2023 list!

[stromuprisahat]

Why don't I buy Malyen's sudden change of heart in R&R, pt. 1

I wouldn’t call him an abuser. I mean, he can be really nice for weeks at a time.

Chapter 6: The Abusive Man in Everyday Life

Do you wonder, why am I worried for Alina? Why I don't think she's safe with Malyen, looking into future?

Life with an abuser can be a dizzying wave of exciting good times and painful periods of verbal, physical, or sexual assault. The longer the relationship lasts, the shorter and farther apart the positive periods tend to become. If you have been involved with an abusive partner for many years, the good periods may have stopped happening altogether, so that he is an unvarying source of misery.

We never see him hit Alina, but with abusers, it doesn't mean anything.

An abusive man can be scary. Even if he never raises a hand or makes a threat, his partner may find herself wondering what he is capable of. She sees how ugly he can turn, sometimes out of the blue. His desire to crush her emotionally is palpable at times. He sometimes tears into her verbally with a cruelty that she could never have imagined earlier in their relationship. When a man shows himself capable of viciousness, it is natural, and in fact wise, to wonder if he will go even further. Abused women ask me over and over again: “Do you think my partner could get violent? Am I overreacting? I mean, he’s not a batterer or something.”

It's ironic Malina's great falling out in Siege and Storm is due to lack of Alina's enthusiasm regarding Malyen's amorous advances. No wonder he throws a tantrum, when he thinks she turns him down.

An abusive man commonly rolls all of his emotional needs into one tremendous bundle, which he expects sex to be able to carry. He tends to have little real heart-to-heart connection with his partner, since a man cannot be truly close to a woman he is abusing. (Although his partner may feel very attached to him through traumatic bonding, and he may feel very attached to having her meet his various needs, attachment and closeness are two different things.) So he compensates for the lack of genuine intimacy by elevating sex to the highest plane, burdening it with the responsibility of providing for him all the emotional satisfaction that he is not receiving elsewhere in his relationship.

Chapter 7: Abusive Men and Sex

When Alina begins to find herself as an independent individual, when she dares to want to be THE Sun Summoner and tells him so, Malyen feels threatened and demonstrates some of his worst behaviour.

The concept of tolerance can also be applied to partner abuse, but with different implications. As an abusive man adapts to a certain degree of mistreatment of his partner, his feelings of guilt nag at him less and less, so he is then able to graduate to more serious acts. He becomes accustomed to a level of cruelty or aggression that would have been out of the question for him a few years earlier. In some cases the concept of tolerance also applies to the abused woman, when she becomes inured to his abusiveness and starts to stand up to him more. He then increases his abusiveness because he sees that it takes more to frighten or control her than it used to. This escalation is similar to the style of crowd control used by a military dictatorship, which shoots rubber bullets as long as they are adequate to disperse protestors but switches to live ammunition when the crowds stop running away from the rubber bullets.

Chapter 8: Abusive Men and Addiction

I've pointed out exactly this detail before reading Bancroft's book. The most terrifying moments for me aren't those, when Malyen screams, but when he's nice and I DO know what he can become.

Almost no abuser is mean or frightening all the time. At least occasionally he is loving, gentle, and humorous and perhaps even capable of compassion and empathy. This intermittent, and usually unpredictable, kindness is critical to forming traumatic attachments. When a person, male or female, has suffered harsh, painful treatment over an extended period of time, he or she naturally feels a flood of love and gratitude toward anyone who brings relief, like the surge of affection one might feel for the hand that offers a glass of water on a scorching day. But in situations of abuse, the rescuer and the tormentor are the very same person.

Chapter 9: The Abusive Man and Breaking up

[theroyalsims]

GUS TAKES ANYA ON A DATE WEARING MUDDY BOOTS - INSIDERS WORRY HE MIGHT NOT FIT IN WITH ROYALS

Lovebirds Anya and Gus were once again photographed holding hands, this time while strolling around the Harbour District here in the city.

Gus, Anya's new-old-boyfriend (a.k.a her first love), seem to be unfazed by the massive media scrutiny and attention they've both been receiving, after going public with their relationship.

While many royal watchers seem to approve of down-to-earth Gus, what with his seeming love for flannel, unkempt hair, bushy beard and lowly work boots, Anya's new boyfriend has also ruffled some feathers, especially those within the "institution."

A well-placed palace source reveals that there have been some concerns about how Gus might not be the right guy for Anya:

"He seems very... simple, very 'everyman' type, if you will. Now, most people might think that's adorable, you know, future Queen slumming it with a man in flannel and denim and all that, but it's already causing trouble within the palace walls."

"As early as now, there are some growing concerns about Gus and whether he's the right man for Anya. They have history, yes, but they did also break-up at one point. What was the problem that they had to go their separate ways? That right here might be an indication that this relationship will again break down."

"And then of course, there's Gus himself - he's no longer just Anya's teenage love... he's evolved into this lumberjack-looking wall of tattooed muscle with his messy beard, wrinkled clothes, and long hair. People at court just cannot imagine him attending a state banquet or a formal reception. They're worried he might trudge around in his muddy work boots, and soil the carpets."

Speaking of muddy boots, the "concerns' about Gus and his fashion sense might have some weight to it. For yesterday's date, Gus chose a red flannel shirt, which he paired with his go-to jeans and very, very muddy work boots. His long hair was at least kept neat in a man-bun. His rough look was in stark contrast to Anya, who opted for a simple white shirt, skinny jeans and §1,700 slingbacks.

Just as the source shared, people online are already split about Gus. One commenter wrote:

"FFS, how hard is it to clean off the mud? I get that you're looking for the humble, blue collar vibe, but really? You're going out IN PUBLIC with a freaking FUTURE QUEEN. The least you can do is look presentable. Maybe iron that shirt, wear something else other than your work clothes. You're going on a DATE, not to one of your construction sites."

Another posted:

"Maaan. Anya traded down. Mario was kinda psycho stalkerish, but at least the man knew how to look good. Come to think of it, even the boxer vet was a better dresser than this bloke. I don't get the appeal. I like my guys looking like they've showered... or at least heard of soap... and maybe buy clothes from real shops, not just thrift stores or their dad's closet."

Meanwhile, some were also quick to defend Anya and Gus from the bashers:

"THIS is exactly why Anya fights super hard to keep her private life out of the public eye. She's finally comfortable enough to flaunt their love and people are nitpicking again, questioning her choices and tearing down her boyfriend. For what? Some mud on his boots. Ridiculous. He's insanely handsome, like a romance novel hero come to life! What are y'all talking about? And the only thing I think should be improved is his beard - it's a shame because the scruff is hiding his lovely dimples! A bit of a trim should do the trick! "

Another Anya fan wrote:

"If people could just back off and let the poor girl and her man breathe! Why are you all so triggered? You're not dating him, she is! If she likes him the way he is, who are you to say otherwise? Anya really can't do anything right... when she's single, she's being pressured to find a man and pop a baby. Now that she's dating, she's being told that she's dating the wrong guy. And for those claiming that he's a no-good gold-digger, please! I'm Tartosan. The man's company is huge and the guy is loaded. I think Anya looks happy - they both look very happy, and at the end of the day, that's what counts.""

Will Gus' lifestyle really be an issue? And considering their previous break-up, is history bound to repeat itself? For what it's worth, Anya does seem very happy and very secure in their newly-rekindled love. I guess only time will tell if these two have staying power the second time around.

[soft-persephone]

I won’t be home for Christmas (Another Intentional Accident)

Lots of kisses and fluff // masterlist // WC: 2.7k

AN: Happy Holidays! I hope you all enjoy!

Nick was nervous.

He hadn’t done a clean shave since he started dating you. He wasn’t the most self conscious man in the world. As long as he and his clothes were clean and comfortable, he didn’t worry about it what he looked like too much.

But women were diffierent. Especially the ones you were in a relationship with.

Even if he didn’t care, they most oftentimes did. Caroline sure as hell did. He always ended up trying harder for her. Wearing certain shirts for her, ironing them more often than he would, not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to avoid the fight she’d most likely cause over it if he didn’t.

You made a comment if his shirt was dirty or if it had a hole in it, but you never pushed for him to wear anything that made him uncomfortable. In fact, you had a knack for buying him better versions of things he already liked.

For his birthday, you had brought him a more durable, expensive, maroon hoodie! The fabric was so damn buttery soft and it was heavy in the way expensive clothes were!

You were just amazing like that.

So, in an effort to remain the best boyfriend ever, he planned to surprise you a week before Christmas.

He invited a few of your close friends, and Winston, but that was only because they’d both have to drive over to Chicago in a few days so they’d make it home. That way, he also wouldn’t have to worry about missing a flight. They’d made the drive before when they were younger more than a few times, so it wansnt a big deal.

“Do you even have a key Nick?” Winston huffed.

“How are we supposed to get in? What kind of surprise is this?”

Nick proceeded to ignore Winston’s comment and open the door.

“Nick!” Natalie squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Natalie.” Nick laughed through his nose with a soft huff, putting on just as gentle of a polite smile.

All your friends were so touchy. It made sense because so were you. You always locked your arms with his on a walk. Opted to hold his hand whenever possible. If his face itched, you beat him to it, scratching the spot for him, insisting that your nails made a more satisfying scratch.

You loved his beard.

Placing your face against his if he wanted to show you something, whether he was pointing at something in public, showing you something on his phone or laptop, you stood as close as possible, placing your cheek on his. You always lingered just a moment longer, smiling against his face as you pulled his lips to match.

He knows he can’t kiss without touching your face in some way, or pulling you by your neck to come closer, but you couldn’t kiss him without kissing him everywhere. Every corner of his checks and down along the stubble or hairs on his neck.

Which is the main source of his nervousness today, he shaved his face!

His mom wasn’t always fond of his facial hair, claiming it ruined pictures and he was hiding his beautiful face.

But what if you didn’t like him without his beard? What if you started acting funny or stopped touching him?

He didn’t grow up in a touchy feely household.

He can count the number of times his father hugged him by hand. After a certain age, especially after his father left, he remembers his mom telling him he had to be a big boy. That he had to be brave and strong and be the man of the house now. That he had to look after her and his brother from now on.

Most of the hugs he ever had in life were from Jaime. Making sure he was alright or he didn’t cry too much in school, so he wouldn’t get beat up for it.

He liked your little touches. He liked how you couldn’t do anything or be near him without touching his shoulder or rubbing at his back at least once before passing by.

“Did you bring everything Nick?” Careesha asked, before enveloping him in a similar embrace and placing a warm cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

“I did!” He nodded and raised the wrapped gift for you in his hand.

“Perfect!” He watched as Natalie and Careesha jumped around and squealed with delight. You and your friends were definitely three of a kind.

“How’s work?”

“Any plans for the holidays?”

“Are you sure either of you aren’t going to bite the bullet and take the other hook for the holidays?”

“Reesha,” Natalie deadpanned, “no one’s trying to be like you and Xaviar anytime soon.”

“You don’t know what they want! They might! It’s their decision!” Reesha huffed through puffed cheeks.

“I don’t know what our future looks like right now,” Nick started with a hand on the back of his neck, “but I do know I’m gonna miss her while I’m home for Christmas.”

“Ugh, you guys are making me sick. I’m going to find more whisky for my hot coco.” Winston scoffed and headed off to the kitchen.

Nick sighed, “please, excuse my friend, Winston Bishop.” He briefly introduced, “his girlfriend dumped him before we flew out here.”

They shared a look and a couple of awkward smiles.

“Eek,” Natalie squeezed, “she’s almost here!”

Nicks eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “how do you know? Did she text or something?”

“No, I just checked her location.”

“From what?” Nick blinked.

A strange feeling started churning in his belly.

“Oh yeah,” Careesha nodded, “Nick isn’t a smart phone guy, remember? She said he likes to stay unplugged and grounded in reality?” She looked at him with a questioning smile.

“Uh, yeah.” Nick licked his lips, “something like that.”

Is that what you were telling your friends? You left out his distaste and constant distrust for the government and his fear of data tracking as well as the impending doom of mankind for choosing convenience over old fashioned know-how and basic human companionship. Also the death of community and togetherness in America and most likely the world. . . But that was fine.

Your version means less questions and arguments he’d have with everyone. You truly were a gift.

“There’s a find my iPhone app, you can share your location with certain friends, so now we can always know where each other are.”

Nick swallowed and tried not to grit his teeth.

He spends a lot of time with you.

If your friends are always tracking you, And that app is always tracking you, the government and who knows else is also tracking you! That means they are also tracking him! They probably listen too!

All those conversations he’d had with you. .

How many people know about—

The doorbell rang.

Nick’s anger was quickly buried with a wave of joy.

You were here!

“Okay, mama, I’ll call you later.”

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels to stay quiet.

“Wha—“

“Surprise!”

“Winston!”

“Oh my god,” He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. “That girl that Nick’s been laying around with!” He fake gasped.

“Shut up,” you hugged him back with a smile, “I know you know my name.”

“Fuck, Winston,” Nick pulled you into his chest by your arm, “what about me huh? Your actual boyfriend?”

He firmly gripped your cheeks with one hand, playfully squeezing a little tighter and letting go. His smile wavered a bit. Your cheeks were cold. You had no scarf, or hat. . .

Fuck. . .

You were about as dumb as he was.

“Where’s your hat? Or scarf? Anything?” He fussed over you. As he helped you take your coat off, he rubbed the material in his hands.

This coat wasn’t thick enough.

And it’s fucking windy as hell and you don’t even have a scarf or hat. No gloves or mittens either!

“I’ll be alright.” You smiled.

Still holding onto your cheeks, he pulled you in for a kiss. Not failing to slip his tongue inside. He needed to taste you, feel your mouth on his, and commit the warm plushness of your lips and every corner of your mouth to memory before he leaves.

“No, it’s not.” He broke the kiss, speaking lowly in your face. His tone making butterflies in your stomach.

You couldn’t really speak, your chest puffed up and down, breathless from the kiss as well as the air and the cold. Perhaps he was right, but you had no idea where to shop for warm things or what makes a coat warmer compared to others. What day do you wear a hat or gloves or neither?

He brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“You know what I thought of all winter?” You shook your head, opting only to smile at him with your lips slightly parted. If you kept looking at him like that, he swore he was going to kiss you again, “whether your coat was warm enough? Did you have the right gloves? Did you remember what to do to your car the night before? Praying, that ice wouldn’t be on the road on the days you have to drive to work.”

“I know,” you placed a hand on top of his, rubbing at his fingers while his kept brushing your cheek, “I’m trying. I really am.”

You were listening to him, but from how wide and glossy your eyes were, he knew you weren’t, not really.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Because you're starting and you're half listening to me.” He laughed which made you laugh too.

“You shaved.” You placed your hands on his cheek now, and he couldn’t help but feel a little self conscious. You’re standing so close to one another, and now you're both holding onto each other's faces like a couple of idiots, lovesick idiots in puppy love.

He’d rather have done this alone now. Without an audience.

“I like it.” You grinned.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help the hope that tinged his voice.

“Yeah!” You kissed him again. Slowly, and thoroughly, so tender and soft. Leaving him to bask in the feeling. He always lost track of time and every moment when you were leading a kiss. Nothing and everything felt so intense at the same time. “I’m still going to miss your beard but this is. . Different! In a good way!”

“Really?” Now it felt like you were laying it on a bit thick.

“It’s like,” you weren’t looking at him now. Your eyes dart wildly at everything before choosing to look down. He lifted your face with a finger, making you laugh dotly in his face. The feeling of it danced across his nose and cheeks. “It makes everything warmer.. hotter. It feels like everything is even closer than before. Like, I’m really feeling all of you.”

He kissed you again. Harder than before.

Not caring about who's around or who’s in the room.

And there it was.

Without the scratch of his beard you felt all of him. The heat of his cheeks on yours. You could actually feel all of the kiss and not be distracted by the scratchy feeling. You could focus on how hot and wet his mouth is. The way his tongue swept across yours, leaving you with no choice but to follow his pace. To allow him to consume every part of you. Leaving a strong want and desire to flood your senses.

“Alright, you two are seriously killing the vibe.”

“Oh,” you heaved with a smile, “hey Winston.”

Winston gave a fake smile before frowning.

“Wrap it up you two. You can have sex later.”

“Speaking of,” Nick started, “I got you something.”

Nick handed you a present wrapped in Newspaper. It had a bow made out of industrial rope.

“You're so environmentally conscious.” You smiled as you unwrapped the gift.

“If you mean cheap, with the best repurposing skills you’ve ever seen, I’ll take it.”

“Oh, Nick.” You smiled. Tears budded at your eyes. You didn’t have time to laugh at his joke before seeing what he had gotten you.

It was a giant cream wool and cashmere scarf, and a matching hat that was lined with silk.

They were so warm.

“Nick you shouldn’t have.” You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

“And let you freeze to death when I’m not around?” He scoffed with a smile. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, enough!” Natalie shoved Nick to the side and hugged you. “We’ve let you two have your moment long enough. There’s a room full of people that love you too!”

Everyone had a great time.

Winston got a little crazy after having to draw 4, four times in a row. Careesha claimed you were cheating, after you won three times in a row, but shenanigans aside, it was amazing. Neither of you would have changed this night for anything else in the world.

Nick went out to the balcony.

He imagined you having a small quiet time out here, in the morning time before you went to work.

“What are you doing out here?” You had put on the scarf and hat the moment you opened it.

You had your coat on now.

Not being able to help himself. He paws at the scarf on your necks maneuvering it in a way where it covers your head and your neck.

“Better?” He smiled.

“Oh my goodness you're a winter genius!”

“Well I was born and raised in Chicago.” He took the other cup of hot chocolate out fontour hand that you brought out for him.

“This spiked stuff is good.”

“Really?” Your eyes sparkled at him and he laughed.

“Absolutely,” he took another sip, “it’s the right amount of whiskey to coco and milk or whatever you used. All the proportions taste right.”

“It’s my recipe!” You beamed at him. “It’s the perfect amino of whisky, a little Baileys, and then regular hot chocolate stuff, but I also chop up some chocolate with the coco powder.”

“It’s so good! You should consider quitting a lawyer and becoming a bartender! I think you’d have a bright future.” He said seriously.

“Well I always wanted to change my career in the middle of all the success and fortune for another one.” You said just as seriously.

You both laughed and he wrapped an arm around you.

You both admired the city lights and falling snow.

Fuck. . . He wasn’t going to make it home for the holidays again. There’s always next year.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his mom’s number.

“Heeey, Ma,” he drawled. Biting back his smile so she couldn’t hear how happy he was, “I missed my flight again.”

He pulled the phone from his ear as she started yelling and asking questions.

“No, everything’s booked up or canceled, now.”

You pinched his cheek, and he bit your finger before you could pull it away. You let out a little scream of a laugh and he had to grab you and cover your mouth, almost making him laugh out loud too!

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll do better next year. . . love you too.”

“Nick—“

“—Let’s spend Christmas together.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes were watery and he kissed away your tears.

“Yeah, you big crybaby,” he smiled and kissed you, “let’s do this. Let’s spend Christmas together. Just the two of us.”

“I’ve never had Christmas without my family before.” You sniffled.

“I know, I know,” he rubbed your shoulders. “We don’t have to if you—“

“—no I do!” You cut him off with a kiss. “I want to spend Christmas with you too!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a big girl.” He wiped your last tear with his thumb. “I can handle a few days without seeing them.

Nick kissed you one more time.

“What about Winston?” You asked.

“Oh,” Nick blinked. “He probably already left without me.”

You blinked back at him for a moment.

“You're probably right.”

He kissed you again.

“Can you please stop bringing up Winston when I’m kissing you?”

Tags: @notapradagurl7 @megamindsecretlair @headcannonxgalore @cottonpuffmouse @crispysublimecupcake @jellyreblogs @blowmymbackout

First time doing this tag thing. Let me know if you wanna be added I guess💀

[thrashyraccoon]

Live after death (Eddie Munson x Metalhead!Reader)

Summary: You and Eddie go to an Iron Maiden concert in Indiana in 1985.

Warnings: none at all.

This day definitely couldn't get any worse, you were sure of it. Not only did the Iron Maiden concert in Indiana sell out as soon as tickets became available, but you also forgot that you ate a bucket of your favorite ice cream and had nothing to drown your sorrows in. Well, all you can do now is curl up in a blanket and watch TV, hoping to forget about the concert. However, your plans are ruined when you hear the phone ringing.

"Who the hell interrupts my wailing?" You complain, then go to the phone and pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" You say, slightly annoyed.

"Hello, did I throught to the most beautiful girl in Hawkins?"

You knew who it was. It was your boyfriend of about a year, Eddie, with whom you were going to see Iron Maiden, and he was waiting to buy tickets just like you.

"I think you've got the wrong numbers, you're not talking to Chrissy Chunningham." you say sarcastically before hearing a light chuckle on the other end.

"Listen, I can come, there's something important."

"Is this so important?" you wonder what he means, but after a while you agree and Eddie unexpectedly hangs up.

…

After 15 minutes you hear a knock on the door. When you open it you see your boyfriend, way too happy than you expected.

“Hi, honey,” Eddie gives you a kiss on the forehead and you invite him inside.

"What's going on Eds?" You say and then you see a smile on his face. "Something happened? You're acting very strange considering the fact that you won't see the band you've been waiting for and you reminded me of this fact every day. I thought you'd be in even more despair than me."

Boy smiles even wider.

“Eddie, what are you-” you stop as he pulls two Iron Maiden tickets out of his pocket. At this point you stop talking and look at Eddie.

"So," he begins to say, "I was at Rick's this morning. When I came to see him, devastated by the fact that they were sold out, he told me that he knew someone, and that someone knew someone else who could get the passes and could contact them. And here they are!…baby, are you okay?" Your boyfriend looks at you and waves his hand in front of your face. You stood there frozen, but finally you started talking

"Does it mean-"

"Yes"

"That we-"

"Yes"

"Are we finally going to the concert?"

"YES"

When this information finally reached you, you couldn't stand it and you threw yourself at Eddie with so much force that he landed on the door.

"You are the best boyfriend I could have ever dreamed of!!!" You screamed and then you cupped his face and kissed him passionately. Eventually, you both started running out of oxygen and Eddie managed to register what had just happened. When he succeeded, he gave you the biggest smile he could, grabbed your waist, and the two of you began to spin around your living room in each other's arms, laughing as you did so.

However, when you stop, he looks you in the eye and says: "I don't know if I am him, but I know one thing" he makes a small pause "JUNE IS OUR BABY!!!"

After this sentence, you become euphoric again and you start kissing, this time longer.

…

6 months had passed and you and Eddie were already at the Mesker Music Theater, where probably one of the best things you will experience together was about to take place. There were a lot of people and you still wonder how you managed to squeeze through the crowd so effectively that you are in the first rows.

“I'm so excited,” You say, unable to keep still.

"I see." Boy laughed, still looking at his beloved.

Suddenly you felt a strong elbow hit your shoulder, sending you flying towards Eddie. It was some complete stranger who probably wanted to get closer to the stage. You were lucky Eddie caught you in time.

“Ouh, idiot,” you shouted, then held onto your arm lightly.

"Everything's all right?" he looked at you with concern and then looked with an irritated look in the direction the stranger had gone, even though he had already disappeared in the huge crowd.

"It's just that my arm hurts a little," you said, holding your arm. You suddenly felt your boyfriend holding you tightly by his waist. You looked at him questioningly.

"I'll hold you for your safety, honey. I don't want some idiot to slip again or when the concert starts it might be dangerous, especially during the moshpit," he said, looking at you with the same concern.

“Thank you, my knight,” You smiled, turning to face him, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Eddie just responded to you with a genuine smile. You stare at each other until you both hear the intro symbolizing that the band will soon take the stage and the cheers of the rest of the crowd. You smile at each other and then turn your back on Eddie. After 2 minutes, the band comes on stage and starts playing "Aces High". Everyone starts cheering and goes crazy. The concert is in full swing and although you both managed to indulge in euphoria, headbanging, shouting the lyrics at the top of your lungs, going crazy, Eddie kept an eye on you the whole time so that no harm would come to you, regardless of the fact that after the second song you broke away from him while playing "2 minutes to midnight". This was what this boy loved most about you. When you devoted yourself to something you loved, you were almost unstoppable.

…

Two hours passed and the concert began to end with the last song "Phantom of the opera" playing. You don't hide the fact that you were a little tired, but you tried to stay in shape. The song ends and the crowd cheers and insists on an encore. Half of the people were leaving and the other half were waiting for the band to leave the stage or for some goodies like picks or drumsticks, you and Eddie were the other half considering the fact that you were quite close to the stage. Suddenly you feel like your boyfriend is giving you the lead.

"Eds, what are you doing?!" You say in a bit of shock."

"Like what? Let's grab some stuff, honey!" He says this by showing you a toothy smile from below.

You can't believe what's happening, but you manage to grab the guitar pick. You were really very lucky. You get off of Eddie's arms and he hugs you and you both shout happiness.

However, when the band leaves the stage, you both walk towards the van to calmly drive back towards Hawkins. You both reach Eddie's van and, in classic gentlemanly fashion, your lover opens the door and offers you his hand. Of course, you take advantage of his help and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"It was amazing!" You scream in a low voice from the fact that you've already had your throat busted at the concert.

"Very much. It was very metal!" he says, happiness quite visible in his eyes and voice. “One thing in particular” Boy looks at you and you realize what he means. You pull out the dice you managed to grab from the pocket of your own combat jacket. You look at the obtained item and then say:

“It's yours, baby,” you move your hand towards Eddie.

“No, I don't agree, it's yours,” he pushes your hand away from you.

“Eddie no, she's yours,” you laugh at him. "I know how much you love Iron Maiden and it's thanks to you that we're even here."

"No, it's yours, I insist. I love you enough and I trust that it will be in good hands, after all…" he replies to you, holding out his guitar pick necklace. "I already have mine," he smiles at you, waving the pendant.

"Are you 100% sure about this?"

"I'm 1000% sure, honey. Someone has to hold it eventually to show it to our future children," she replies shyly with a big smile. You look at him, then at the ankle, and then back at Eddie. Suddenly, with a burst of emotion, you approach him and kiss him, trying to convey everything you currently feel. However, you finish and wrap your arms around your boyfriend, not having the strength to tell him what's on your mind due to the sheer amount of happiness.

"I love you too, angel, I always will." he starts to soothe you by rubbing your back in circular motions. You honestly couldn't believe how you had come across such a loving and devoted man like him. However, after a few minutes, Eddie decides that it's time to go, even though he wants to stay in your arms for the rest of his life.

"Honey, let's go home now, shall we?" He speaks calmly but you don't answer. It turned out that during these few minutes you had already fallen asleep from the exhaustion after the concert and the warmth from the hug. He starts laughing softly and tries to break away from you so as not to wake you up, placing you straight on the seat and fastening you with a seat belt to keep you safe. He looks at you for a moment with concern and love, then starts the van and starts to drive out of the parking lot. He hopes that you will remember this event in your peaceful old age.

Fun fact: There was actually an Iron Maiden concert in Indiana on June 8 in 1985.

This is my first fanfic. I'm not particularly good at writing, but I hope it's not too bad. Thank you for the warm reception of the rest of my entries. Please share your kind words and reaction if you liked the fanfic. I will try to answer everything <3

[m1d-45]

from soil….

summary: albedo has learned many things, and yet sometimes it feels like he knows nothing at all.

word count: 3.9k

-> warnings: massive spoilers for albedo lore… bottom text

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily

< masterlist > || part 2 >>

as a synthetic human, albedo wasn’t raised as most were. he was ‘born’ fully grown, the shaky knees that let him stand those of an adult. rhinedottir hadn’t wasted any time, immediately beginning his training in various forms of alchemy from the moment he was oriented enough to try and speak.

he was taught the periodic table before he was told the names of colors, he was told how to tell which solvent was best for an experiment before he even understand the nature of his creation. he could recite the best methods for creating hydrogen gas by heart, he knew how to make carbon dioxide go supercritical and even experimented with ferrofluids on the side, but he didn’t know what it meant to be ‘burned’ until curiosity got the better of him and he put his hand over a flame.

he was told not to, like so many other things embedded in his memory, but never why. he knew fire was hot, of course, but.. even as his hand jerked away of its own accord, he found himself wondering what the odd feeling under his skin was.

rhinedottir was disappointed to learn of what he’d done, but had simply given him the instruction of ‘don’t hurt yourself, it’ll set you back.’

‘hurt’. thats what this was?

as he waited for his ammonia to drip into the iron solution, he picked through the many bookshelves in the room. many were scientific texts, with a few encyclopedias, but he wasn’t looking for those.

pulling down the lone dictionary with his now-bandaged hand, he flipped through the pages, keeping an eye on his experiment in his periphery as he did so.

hurt

(v) cause physical pain or injury to

(adj) physically injured

(n) physical injury; harm

how strange…

he shifted the book in his hands, staring at his wound through the bandages. carefully flexing his hand, he stopped right on the cusp of something sharp, the skin of his hand… was hurt.

albedo continued to read through various definitions, his experiment shifting in color to a dark brown without his notice.

why would he divert his attention from something so thrillingly new?

albedo was no longer a stranger to pain.

it took him far too long to realize he should probably be buying borosilicate glass equipment to handle the sort of experiments he was carrying out, only ever noticing when his third watchglass cracked under the heat of manganese heptoxide. his hands were permanently covered in little nicks, each carefully wrapped in bandages as to not get anything into them, some deep enough to scar but most barely enough to annoy.

slowly, he began to learn. he learned the safest ways to clean up shattered glass, he learned how to wrap his dominant hand and had become somewhat ambidextrous as a result. he learned when he needed to stop and take a break before he got a headache, he learned to tell when his hand was cramping from notes and took the time to practice with his other. pain was no longer unfamiliar, but it was still just as strange.

he was learning.

though he didn’t fully understand why this wasn’t taught to him, why he wasn’t told how to make a salve for burns or given a set of gloves to prevent it happening in the first place… he sort of could see why he wasn’t. pain was the result of failure, of a broken piece of equipment or a too-hot burner. it made sense.

did it?

he carefully poured water into a beaker, not paying attention to the conversation behind him. one of rhinedottir’s friends was over, as was becoming increasingly common, and he’d stopped listening once it turned to her daughter. a few compounds caught his attention, but he couldn’t afford to be distracted. the ratio of acetone and water had to be just right, and he was nearing the balance point, the solution fizzing less and less with every addition.

“she’s quite the- klee, don’t-”

without warning, something heavy crashed into albedo’s back. the bottle in his hand tipped and jerked, splashing into and over the rim of the beaker. the heater beneath it hissed as the ice cold water dripped down the side, and though he stood quickly, reaching to unplug it, it was too late. sparks flew as the wiring shorted, the red glow of the plate beginning to fade.

something hot and sharp rose in his chest, buzzing in his hands, the air turning thin. his jaw tightened with the feeling, the cord in his hand biting into his palm.

he’d knocked over his stool in his haste, and beside it was a small child, wide red eyes staring up at him. with bright blonde hair and long, pointed ears, it was clear she was the woman’s daughter.

and she had ran into him.

the woman—alice, his mind supplied, though he didn’t quite hear it—crouched besides her, pulling her up and dusting off her clothes, “klee! what did i say about running in the lab? you know it’s dangerous.”

rhinedottir sighed, leaning against the wall and looking at the failed experiment. “another failure…”

the sharp spikes of feeling turned on him in an instant, and the cord fell from his hand in surprise. he didn’t mean to mess it up! it wasn’t his fault klee was running around! why was he to blame?

“gold, it’s not his fault. i should have watched klee closer.”

“nonsense. he shouldn’t have even been using a bottle. pipettes are much more precise, and if he wished to have any sort of credibility to his findings, he should have used those to better track how much he was putting in. ‘add water until it stops foaming’ isn’t much of an instruction, you know.”

alice stood, some sort of response already forming in the draw of her brows, but albedo turned towards his mess. his hands shook as he moved the too-full beaker to a bin, the heating plate heavier than usual. he ignored the increasingly heated conversation behind him, letting his hands go through the familiar motions of disposal. his chest felt heavy, an odd pulse between his ribs reminding him of the reason he was wiping water off his desk.

he didn’t hold it against the girl, of course. she was too young to even be thought of chastised, and… rhinedottir was right. he probably should have used a pipette to add the water, or at least something less volatile than an open bottle. after this long, he should have known.

his vision blurred, the wad of towels in his hand washing into one mass. he threw the towels into the trash, his free hand coming up to wipe at his eyes. had vapor gotten into them? that wouldn’t be good if that were the case, but though they stung it wasn’t as sharp as it would be from chemicals.

albedo wiped up the last of the water, absentmindedly wondering why his chest ‘hurt’ if he hadn’t been injured.

alice visited often, usually bringing her daughter along as well. he wasn’t sure why, as she was surely too young to learn much in the way of alchemy, but she evidently had learned not to run in the lab, thankfully. she sat on a stool at her mother’s side, carefully drawing in a small notebook.

albedo stood at the sink, doing his best to focus on removing the caked sediment from his glassware. alice was talking, again, telling a story of a place he’d never been or heard of, and his thoughts admittedly wandered when he wasn’t careful. he’d wonder about the knights she was talking about, the cavalry led by a man in frosted blue, and he glanced over his own outfit. plain white, as typical, but he wondered about the dye that would have been used. he always wore white—“easier to tell when you’ve spilled something,” rhinedottir always said—and his few attempts at making dyes always ended up splotched and uneven. how did they dye clothes? or did they dye the thread first? would that be more or less efficient? was it harder to work with dyed thread, maybe, because it could wear during the weaving process?

curiosity bubbled within him as he rinsed off a stir rod, scraping off the leftover sediment with his nail. it would take too much time and space to try what he was thinking, not to mention that he didn’t even know how to go about it, but…

he turned to put it on a towel and paused, seeing klee looking up at him from her stool. she waved, shyly, pen tucked against her palm, and he hesitated for a moment before waving back. it was small, barely a raise of his fingers as to not draw attention, but she lit up anyway. her feet kicked against the stool in excitement and she hid her smile in her sketchbook, and albedo felt his own begin to form. he felt warm, a gentle feeling starting to rise. he tried to pin it down, running over the list of emotions he’d learned, but it didn’t match. it wasn’t the sharp, white-hot spike from when he’d ruined his hot plate, nor the slow but insistent press of curiosity. he felt… soft, almost, a delicate heat pushing him to smile back, gently-

“albedo.“

the sharp call of his name scattered the feeling like fish recessing deep into a lake, repulsed by the word.

rhine had cut off alice, evidently, the latter’s hands still raised mid-gesture.

“are you finished? why are you looking at klee like that?”

though it didn’t show on his face, albedo felt as confused as alice looked. her hands had moved to her sides, eyes flicking between the two of them with an odd twist to her mouth.

albedo swallowed something cold and bitter, taking a breath. “like what?”

he tried to put as much genuineness into his words as he could, but rhinedottir just shook her head.

“you know how.”

“i-“

“get back to work, albedo.”

she looked away, cutting the conversation short despite the argument still on his tongue.

he didn’t know. she never told him. none of the books in his lab ever described what it meant to be alive, to feel, to grow. he’d read all of them, cover to cover and back again, but none of them described what he wanted to know.

albedo turned back to the sink, wondering if there was a name for the cold pit in his stomach.

the next time alice comes, albedo has the time to look and properly greet her. he doesn’t have anything important or time sensitive going on, simply waiting for a dish to crystallize, and it was clear that the short wave he gave, pencil still in hand, had made her happy.

“hey albedo! what are you working on?”

almost subconsciously, his eyes flick to rhinedottir, searching for her approval, but she’s turned away, inspecting some random report on his desk. his chest feels cold as he lifts his sketchbook in lieu of a response. he’s drawn a cecelia, a kind of flower he saw on his last expedition, only ever growing near the top of a cliff.

he wonders of rhine would be proud of its accuracy, if nothing else.

“oh, a drawing?” klee seems to stand a bit straighter when she registers that the notebook in his hand is for drawing and not for research, and alice chuckles at her enthusiasm. “could we see?”

again, albedo seeks his master’s approval. he doesn’t find it.

he takes a quick look around the lab but knows there isn’t anything dangerous. the only active and open chemicals are the one in the beaker behind him, and that’s both well away from an edge and covered with a watchglass. so he nods, spinning his pen from his hand and into a pocket as they carefully move across the lab. he notes the caution with which klee steps over a fallen pen, the hand not in her mother’s tightly gripping her bag.

he tilts the book up for her to take��his heart had picked up at some point and he can see a quiver where his thumb digs into the binding, when did that happen?—but she just peers down at it from where she is, not reaching. it only takes a moment for something bright to reach her eyes, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome.

“cecelias, right?”

hesitantly, albedo nods. “i was exploring the eastern edge of mondstat, looking for valberries, but… i found these instead.”

she hums with a nod, her expression shifting slightly. “you need to go further north if you want valberries. cecelias grow on starsnatch cliff, and you want to go to stormbearer point.” albedo made a note to ask rhine where that was. “still, this is very impressive! the detail is remarkable despite not having a reference; you must’ve been blessed by the creator themself!”

her eyes glitter in a way that tells him it’s supposed to be something said in jest… but he doesn’t get the joke. behind her, rhinedottir’s head snapped up, eyes narrow, the report long discarded, and albedo takes the risk before his master can speak.

“who?”

alice’s face falls.

albedo looks over at klee for the nth time, checking that she was still happily doodling on her own paper. rhine had been swift to pull alice into a side room after her comment, so it was just them left in his lab. her, on the stool he’d offered her after her mother was pulled away, and him, still on the same chair he’d been for the past few hours. his pen felt cold in his hand despite the fact that he should have been producing more than enough body head to keep it warm, something… uneasy bubbling in his blood.

words pushed to the forefront of his mind, the same as they did every time he checked on klee, and this time he let them go.

“do you know who was alice talking about?”

she stops, the room falling silent as her pencil stills, and he feels oddly exposed in front of her wide red eyes. she reaches up to adjust her hat, the clover on it smudging lightly with graphite. “the creator?”

albedo nods. “rhine never calls people ‘creator’s of things, even masters of k-…. masters of alchemy are simply ‘alchemists’ to her. i’ve never heard of such a title before.”

klee pouts, stuffing her pencil into the rings on her notebook and settling it in her lap. between her fingers, he swears he sees something shaped suspiciously like a cecelia.

“the creator made everything! mama says that they are older than even her, and that they gave klee this!”

the stilted grammar of her words throws albedo off, but not as badly as when she reaches for her bag—nearly falling in the process—and unhooks a large glass-looking jewel inset in silver. it glitters red, a pattern of a flame engraved within, and he finds himself leaning closer. questions spring to his mind—‘how did you get it? what does it do? does it have a name? how is it made? how were you acknowledged by somebody so important at such a young age? is there even a significance to it at all? why doesn’t rhinedottir have one? does alice?’—but she speaks before he can voice them, voice unnaturally cohesive for somebody so young.

“i got my vision after i tried to make the biggest bomb ever!” after she what- “i made a mess out of my station… but mama says it’s okay! she helped me rebuild it and everything, and even stitched back on dodoco’s ear!” she points to a small plush charm hanging off her bag, leaving him with still more questions than answers.

“didn’t your mama teach you about them? why are you asking klee?”

albedo fell short.

was this something that parents typically taught their children? he supposed rhine would technically be his ‘mother’…. but even that was more in the literal sense. she was his mother as in she created him, but she was his master in that she taught him about and guided him through alchemy.

(but was that even for his sake? or was it hers?)

before he could say anything, alice had come back, a crease between her brows and a heavy frown on her face.

“come on klee, we’re leaving.”

klee quickly hooked the ‘vision’ back onto her bag and stuffed her notebook inside, slipping off the stood with a ‘bye bye albedo!’ before he even understood what had happened. her hand folded into her mothers, having crossed the room swiftly, free hand tucked under the strap of her bag.

alice gave albedo a long look, filled with a feeling he couldn’t begin to decipher, before her jaw set and the door opened, a wash of cold air sweeping in as they left.

rhinedottir nearly slammed open the door, shutting it just as harshly behind her, but albedo didn’t flinch from where he was weighing out sodium. she’d been returning from expeditions more and more irritated lately, the domains she’s been searching somehow turning up less clues each time. he’s not privy to her work, so he simply keeps his mouth shut, never offering his advice or help even when he knows it helps to talk puzzling things out.

he tapped his stir rod on the edge of his beaker, knocking off the excess solution, and listened to her go through her routine. boots off, shoes on, coat off, lab wear on. bag down, notes up, then the bang of her door.

he stifles a smile at her predictability. most of her actions are prescribed, a routine she likely follows unintentionally, but it brings him a small bit of comfort. she did the same things when she returned today as she did every other day, no mater the size of her discovery, retiring to her room to review her findings. he learned quickly to shut down any attention-sapping experiments as quickly as possible after she returned to be able to dedicate as much as he could to listening to her ramble, leaving space on his table for her diagrams. he rarely got a word in, but that just made him all the better listener, able to concisely say everything he wanted to in the moment’s space of her breaths.

with all of this in mind, he covered his beaker. the solution would be fine overnight, so long as it was chilled, and he was quite looking forward to tonight’s talk.

albedo stood from his stool and began to clean up, listening to the clock tick down.

a few hours later, rhine returns with a heavy sigh. he hears papers flap in her hands as she shuffles through them, the sound growing louder as she approaches. she sits in the chair he’d set out for her in preparation and drops her papers on the table in a messy pile, various diagrams drawn across them.

she picks out one seemingly at random, depicting a diamond-shaped sigil inset onto a large set of doors. a complex web of patterns wraps around it, ending on eight smaller sigils. below the diagram, she wrote out a quote, presumably the one inscribed across the top of the door, “when seeking those who have lost their faith / there’s not much one can do but wait / you take the swiftest trail at once / and try until your hopes prevail.”

he doesn’t know what it means, but he keeps the words in his mind as she shoves aside the rest of the papers, setting down that one and beginning to talk about how she tried to solve it.

“there’s over 40,000 combinations—i did the math—and i wasn’t going to sit there for however long it took. the geo slime condensate only had enough elemental energy preserved in it to activate all of the sigils twice, and that didn’t account for actually killing the things.”

albedo propped his arm on the table, resting his chin in his palm and staring at the paper. he took in and registered her words, of course, hearing and understanding them, but a majority of his mind was focused on the paper. each of the winding paths started at the center sigil and twisted out, quickly becoming hard to follow- likely due to erosion, since the domain seemed embedded into a cliff face.

still, he pulled at the puzzle, picking at the edges. the inscription played on loop in his mind, producing ideas just as quickly as he shut them down. it couldn’t be that they had to leave to a secondary—or more—location, since six separate places for a domain was too complex and highly unlikely. it couldn’t be that there was some sort of prayer or hymn they needed to follow, due to the same argument as the first. there had to be a simpler solution….

“have you tried activating them in the order of the pathways?”

silence.

he looks up at her lack of response, finding her with her hands raised, clearly mid-ramble.

“i apologize for inter-“

he’s cut off with a wave of her hand as she picks up the paper, flipping it towards her. “dont, you already said it. what do you mean by ‘order’? actually, don’t answer. you can tell me tomorrow.”

just as quickly as she arrived, rhine left, picking up all her papers and leaving with a swish of her coat, her door nearly slammed shut.

albedo’s eyes flicked to the clock. she was barely there for ten minutes.

why? he’d spoken up before… granted, never interrupted, but… surely that wasn’t a large enough offense that she left?

he looked around his desk, empty of any equipment or glassware in preparation for the usual hours-long talk. it was earlier than he normally went to sleep, and though he could in theory return to work…

an unusual hesitation had seeped under his skin, pulling at his hands when he tried to stand. what had he said to make her leave? he’d just wanted to help…

after a moment, he stood, awkwardly pushing in his stool. ‘tell her in the morning’…

something odd and unsettling curled around albedo’s limbs as he went through the motions of preparing for bed. his fingers felt stiff where he ran them through his hair, the sheets on his bed cold despite the fire. an unmovable weight had sat itself on his chest, telling him that he’d done something wrong, but couldn’t tell what.

he hadn’t done anything. he’d just offered his help. she was the one that broke routine.

the weight told him that he was wrong.

he didn’t know why.