#It was painful to write so it's probably painful to read

[reverie-starlight]

{airport pickup - michael kaiser }

I saw this vid and immediately knew I had to write something inspired by it.

fem!reader, no physical descriptions, lots of fluffy fluff, I’m extremely down bad for one (1) Michael Kaiser and it shows in this fic. reader speaks a bit of german. if he’s extremely out of character to a horrifying degree, just know that I haven’t actually read the manga, he just takes up 90% of my brain. I’m working on it I promise 🥹

dividers by @/cafekitsune

kaiser isn’t used to being on this side of an airport pickup.

normally the roles would be reversed- he’d be coming home after a round of away games, tired and sore after pushing himself, and you’d be waiting past the gates with a smile and open arms looking like the epitome of home.

but today it’s him who is nervously glancing at his phone every few minutes, checking the time, waiting for a notification from you to see if you’ve landed or not.

you've been away for work, a conference of some sort that you had been handpicked for. he’s very proud of you, of course, but now he’s had a taste of what you must feel while he’s away and it makes his heart hurt. at least when he's overseas with his team he has constant distractions and he's often too tired to fully register the loneliness that comes with not sleeping beside you at night.

but now that he's on the off-season, training doesn't take up as much of his time and he's forced to confront a house that doesn't quite feel like a home without you.

all he wants is for you to be in his arms again. to hear your laughter, your slightly off-key singing while you’re doing chores around the house.

he’d wonder if this is really how you feel when he goes away, but he’s confident enough in your feelings to know that it is. and it pains him.

next time he travels he’ll insist on bringing you with him. he doesn’t want you to suffer through it anymore.

kaiser waits another ten agonizing minutes before your text notification goes off and he’s fumbling with his phone, trying to unlock it as fast as possible. he curses under his breath when he almost drops it and clings to it with both hands for extra security.

he’s glad he chose to go with the makeshift disguise, because he’s not sure if he’d ever live it down from you or his team if someone were to catch him in this state of desperation and post it.

(although you’ll probably laugh and call him a dork regardless of a post when you realize just how excited he is to see you. he’s counting on it, actually.)

plane landed, heading to baggage now :))

he breathes a sigh of relief and quickly lets you know where he's waiting.

how many times has he been to this airport? it must be somewhere in the thousands by now. how pathetic is it that he can't go find you without risking getting lost? he makes another mental note about learning the general layout in case this ever happens again.

knowing that you're safe and in the same building fills him with more unbearable anticipation. just as he's decided he's had enough and gets up to look at the signs that will lead him to you, he catches sight of your familiar figure and bright luggage.

your eyes meet his and you both break into wide smiles, but as you examine him and walk over, faux confusion takes over your features. he narrows his eyes suspiciously, knowing you're up to something.

"excuse me, sir," you say. "could you help me find someone?"

kaiser sighs, playing along with your antics. "no promis-"

"he's tall, has blonde hair with blue dyed tips," you cut him off, mischievous intentions clear as day to him. "kind of handsome?"

he rolls his eyes affectionately. "sorry, I don't thi- kind of handsome?"

you burst into laughter at his incredulous expression, unable to keep the act up.

"liebling, I think you mean extremely handsome, hm?"

you shake your head. "nah, not really."

he glares at you and squishes your cheeks together between his palms. "nimm das zurück!" his tone is playful, so you feel confident enough to stick your tongue out at him.

you pry his hands away from your face and happily let him wrap them around your waist. "du bist so leicht zu necken, michael," you card your fingers through his hair and he hums.

"missed you," he admits, finally feeling at peace.

"I missed you too, schatz. can we go home now? I'm jetlagged and in need of affection I don't feel comfortable displaying in an airport."

he nuzzles his nose against your hairline and presses a quick kiss there before resting his cheek on your head. "I'm already home, süße."

he doesn't see the tears welling in your eyes, but he knows you're touched by his words from the way you pull him closer and hold him tighter.

turns out you’re already home too.

translations:

nimm das zurück! - take that back!

du bist so leicht zu necken, michael - you're so easy to tease, michael.

süße - sweetness/sweet thing

liebling, schatz - dear, treasure

thank you @dira333 for checking the translations over for me <3

considering I haven't fully read the manga, it goes without saying that if he seems slightly out of character, that's why lol

hope you enjoyed!!

[poppy-metal]

So I’ve sent a few asks about this since i'm not a challengers blog lmao but i feel like ive got this sorted now. This is a polycule au where reader enters via Tashi.

Reader is Tashi’s childhood best friend. They met at a day camp for kids in the neighborhood, and you were excited to let her babble on about tennis and sports and everything else. You traded hair ties and discovered you have the same favorite movie and that was that. 

You were interested in tennis for a bit, an eager little kid, really just excited to have a best friend. Your parents were a bit concerned - don't you want other friends? She seems a little... overbearing... - but you didn’t care. This wasn’t just another kid - this was Tashi. Fire and ice, determination and grit, strength and beauty... You didn’t realize you were falling in love, you were just a kid. But that first love - when given the opportunity - can grow into its own beast. Spin the bottle might have been the first kiss you two share (and your first kiss ever), and it probably should have hurt your feelings more when she told you you were a terrible kisser later that night, but she offered to teach you and you tried to ignore the way your mouth went dry at the thought of tasting her again.

But despite your best efforts, as you drift away from tennis and into the pageant circuit, you and Tashi drift apart too. She still drags you out to do doubles for fun, but you can tell it bothers her that you aren’t as passionate about it as she is. It was her idea to write letters in college - she was flopped out on your bed, looking like a goddess in her tiny pajama shorts. She said it was convenient, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. You’d been scared that she might just leave you - find a friend with a passion and drive that matched hers. But she wanted you around. Even tried to set you up with Art one time, the four of you crammed in a booth at some shitty diner. You decided then that you hated both boys - you’d heard their names in her letters, tried to ignore the way jealousy coiled in your chest every time they looked at her.

After her injury though... she just drifted away. By the time Lily was born, she rarely wrote back, to your texts or emails. It was too hard - you understood tennis as a game, but not in the way she did. Besides, you were solidly from before. Before the injury, before the marriage, before any of it. In her mind, you were pure. She couldn’t taint that with her pain and loss. You tried reaching out to Art, but he brushed you off.  You ran into Patrick a few years later, at a shitty hotel. You’d almost kissed him - the heat of the moment and the history making desire twist with guilt in your stomach and you’d practically ran from the bar.

But that didn’t mean you stopped writing. And that made everything worse - why couldn’t you be more like Patrick, take a hint, let her go, let her slip fully into her after. But you never forgot a birthday - an ever growing collection of cards and letters in a box under her bed. You’d wondered, sometimes, if she read them. The letters got shorter and shorter as your own life drifted away from you. Empty friendships, empty relationships... it should have alarmed you, the way your life became grey without her. 

After the Challenger, when Patrick was back in their life, he was looking for something of Art’s when he found that shoebox under her bed. The last few letters are unopened - you’d stopped including any details of interest by now, and she couldn’t bear to read the nothingness. You used to fill pages - now you barely covered the front of one.

But despite late night conversations while Tashi was getting ready for bed, neither Patrick nor Art ever felt like it was their place to say anything. Patrick would poke and prod, but never actually did anything. 

It would be another year of radio silence before fate intervened. At this point in your life, you were working as a personal assistant for some big-wig sports sponsor, an overbearing man with wandering hands - but he pays you well, and your contract has a year or so left in it anyways.

The party had barely started when someone taps you on your shoulder. You’d been flitting around in a blush gown, debriefing the staff and restocking tables. You spin, expecting another waiter with a question, but Art’s blue eyes widened as they met yours. He hadn’t recognized you from behind - looking for answers about where to put their coats, but now you were both staring, brains whirring, trying to think of what to say. And you can’t stop  yourself from scanning the room, a million questions swirling in your mind. Is she here? Did she know I was here? Eventually, you and Art are able to get through the awkward conversation, as you try to keep your eyes from traveling the entirety of his form - older, but still muscled, and the crows feet around his eyes only served to increase his attractiveness.

You’d flit away again, your heart pounding in your chest. You still hadn’t seen Tashi - was she even here? It would be a few hours before Patrick would confront you at the bar. You’d finally gotten away from your boss, throwing back a shot surreptitiously. 

“Is he always like that?” He asked, leaning back against the bar, up in your space the way he’d been all those years ago. 

“Hmm?” Was all you could manage, the shock and the alcohol making your mind move slower than normal.

“Your boss. Is he always so touchy?” You don’t answer that, putting your shot glass back on the bar and flitting away again.You’d hosted a thousand parties with your boss - why are they here now?

It was almost midnight by the time you finally see Tashi - you’d been washing your hands in the women's bathroom when she came out of the stall behind you and you both froze. Your brain was running a mile a minute, you weren’t even sure if you were breathing, all those feelings from decades ago coming up your throat.

“It’s good to see you.” Was all she said before slipping out of the bathroom. You find yourself leaning heavily against the sink, just trying to catch your breath.

Tashi would say that it was seeing you with your boss that pushed her over the edge into bringing you back into her life. But both Patrick and Art know that it wouldn’t have mattered if she had seen you with your shitty boss, happily married with kids, or in the height of your career. One look at you was enough.

aw, this one HURT what the hell ☹️☹️☹️☹️ the continued letters :((((( them slowly getting more and more lifeless the more that times passes and the more listless she becomes :(((( i imagine she stops hoping for tashi's reply, probably stops thinking tashi reads them at all - just vents like its a diary - she could buy an actual diary but something about the letters and knowing where they'll end up gives you comfort. you talk about failed dates and how you dont feel like you're built for love, dont think its meant for you. think you're probably always meant to doll it out and not receive it and how its okay and you accept it and you dont resent her for leaving - especially after her injury, you get it - except sometimes you get angry and your letters have tear stains on them with blurred ink lines and you write about how you understand how hurt and devastated tashi must have been and still must be, but why couldn't she let you be there for her? why weren't you enough? why did she accept love from art years later but never sends a letter back to you? why does he get grace from that time in your life, but you dont? what did you do to deserve it?

those are the letters tashi almost replies to - the angry ones - she gets as far as putting a pen to paper but can never find the words to explain how the reminder of you, after her injury, was just too much to bear - all her passion and ferocity and girlish zeal were wrapped up tightly and bound to you - even though you didn't play tennis - you reminded her of everything playing tennis used to make her feel. euphoric. how can she explain thinking of you made her sick to her stomach and by the time she'd gotten to a place where she could stand on her own two feet again. allow love back into her life through art - that she'd simply felt the weight of her cruelty too intensely. she couldn't apologize. she couldn't bear seeing the betrayal in your eyes, the hurt, the wound she'd caused. tashi was tough - but not when it came to you. you'd rip her right open. so she never replied. and eventually, it became too much to read them too.

and art probably knows about you - it's kind of hard not to notice his wife getting letters continuously. he asks about them, and tashi tells them they're from you and arts thinks 'oh.' he feels bad for you, he remembers you - remembers that time tashi tried to set you on a double date and it went miserably because art was too much of a loser back then to know how to treat a woman - and he'd still been very much in love with tashi. you'd been sweet, though. down to earth, kind, funny. he could tell you and tashi adored eachother. he doesn't read any of your letters, but he sees the expression on tashi's face kind of - shrink whenever she gets one - and he recommends only once, "why dont you return it?" but the glare she'd sent him had been enough that he'd never brought it up again. he wanted to ask more about you. had an inkling there was something more there under the surface - something romantic even, but he never knew how to go about asking. you were a touchy subject. it made him endlessly curious, despite himself.

and patrick - patrick probably hurt the worst. tashi marrying art - not being invited to the wedding - it'd hurt, badly. you'd written her many letters about just how much it hurt - but with patrick. it felt like a slap to the face. you and patrick - you felt a kinship with him. you hadn't bonded until well after college, not until years later, when you ran into him one night at a local bar. but catching up with him felt as easy as breathing, and like you'd known him all your life. he was self-deprecating and annoyingly flirtatious and haunted. he asked you about a tattoo you had on your wrist with a finger skimming the mark there and you'd breathed in. and that was it. you spent hours talking about tashi, spooling your guts out - and he did the same. you realized you had a connection there - you'd never been around patrick much when he dated tashi but you could tell he still loved her. just like you did. art too, though you didn't know the man well enough to mourn his absence from your life, other than to be stung that he apparently was more deserving of tashi than you were.

you'd almost went home with him - you could tell he wanted to. and the shared pain you felt drew you to him, you couldn't lie. patrick zweig was attractive and and you knew a night with him would treat you well. he'd make you cum - many times, probably. but the thing that stopped you was the very reason you were called to do it in the first place. god, was everything in your life about tashi? every goddamn thing? even your hookups? patrick wanted you, he definitely thought you were hot, but the peak of his desire came from wanting to have something of tashi's. to be closer to her - or to back at her. he'd make you cum, but it wouldn't be about you, or even for you. you couldn’t even be mad at him for wanting it - because for a moment, you wanted it too. to have something of tashi's - both to be closer to her and to spite her. but that's not who you were, at the end of the day.

you just didn't have it in you to play games.

patrick didn't take it hard. just gave you a half crooked smile and gave you his number if you ever changed your mind. the paper sat folded up in a pocket in your wallet for years to come. never used, but never tossed out.

it would be a few years later - working on an event for your gross boss that you saw the match on screen. catching snatches of it between your rounds of attending to guests, before tuning in fully on your break. breathless and nearly nose pressed to the screen as you watched all three of them come together in the most beautiful match of tennis you'd ever seen in your life. watching art and patrick embrace across the net made your eyes burn. when you saw tashi smile you turned the TV off.

a week later patrick was in the news, pictures of him seen with tashi and art on every article online. you couldn’t escape from their image - pictures of the three of them at a dinner - coming out of the movies. one of tashi and patrick seen laughing at a premiere. another of art and patrick relaxing on beach chairs.

it felt like being stabbed in the chest. the connection you felt with patrick severed. you didn't share anything. he was still chosen, in the end, when you weren't. you threw his number out. crumpled and barely eligible anyway.

you stop writing tashi after that. you doubt she'd notice. it was time you stopped being pathetic and let go. she probably threw the letters away the second she got them. art probably thought you were a nuisance. patrick probably thought you were a joke.

you move through life on autopilot for some time. you tune out news about anything related to tennis. you throw yourself into your job - that you hate. but what can you do? it puts food on the table and a roof over your head and yeah your boss gets handsy and makes inappropriate comments but its worth it kind of because he pays you extra and that means you get to buy the fancy ramen. the kind with actual beef tips in it.

its just any other night, refilling guests drinks - managing the bar when it's unattended - flitting around to see if anyone needed anything. your outfit was bordering on inappropriate - akin to that of a maid - black and white and shorter than necessary, especially for a high brow event such as this. but it was what your boss made all the women wear, so you couldn't complain. and yeah, maybe your skirt was shorter than anyone elses but if you just were conscious enough of your surroundings and keeping the hem from raising, it was manageable.

seeing art is like a bucket of ice being dumped on your head. turning around to see his startled expression feels almost comical. his suit and tie in comparison to your near slutty get up is humiliating beyond belief but you simply paste a smile on your face and pretend like seeing him and what it means that hes here hasn't just made your brain short circuit - you act like he's any other guest. pluck his coat from his arm and tell him if he needs anything to please let you know. you hope he doesn't. you hope he leaves you the hell alone.

if seeing art was ice seeing patrick at the bar feels like being tossed into a fireplace. you feel your skin heat just from him being close. your nose twitches at his comment - patrick was always more perceptive than people gave him credit for - but you didn't want to linger around to entertain him. if he thought he could just talk to you like he did the last time you two talked - like he hadn't spit in your face - he was wrong.

and if seeing patrick was like being thrown in a pit of fire seeing tashi in the bathroom was like being shot through the heart. a bullet entering your sternum. breaking all your bones that'd been paper thin anyway and tearing apart all your lungs and viens and cartilage. beautiful as the day you'd last seen her. somehow even more gorgeous with time and in the flesh. her beauty could never be captured completely by a camera or on a screen, though. it was the kind that shone best in person. because she glowed. she was effervescent. you wanted to die.

"its good to see you."

its good to see you.

over and over again in your head long after the door swings shut behind her. its good to see you like there wasn't a decade of unaccounted time between you. its good to see you like there weren't a thousand unanswered letters between you. its good to see you like you were passing acquaintances. nothing more.

you wash your hands in the sink three times. you fix your skirt, though it does absolutely nothing to do so. you go back outside and you deliberately avoid their table and when your boss pulls you to the side and slides a hand down your arm and tells you, you look like you need a break - you look at him and you know you can do what you usually do, which is act stupid and say no thank you or simply act like you dont know what he wants from you until he gets bored. but then you feel the empty pit in your chest that the bullet left ravaged, and you know you need something to fill it. even if that something will make you hate yourself.

you dont beat around the bush.

"can you take me home after work?"

your boss grins. you smile back, it feels wooden on your face.

"sure i can, sweetheart."

[anonymous-dentist]

An introspective merpepito moment:

-

They’re a week away from land, which means they’re a week away from Pepito And Captain Celbi’s Super Secret Special Mission, which means they’re a week away from Captain Celbi and Apa Roier becoming Best Friends!!

But.

But Apa Roier already isn’t paying much attention to Pepito thanks to Richarlyson. What’ll happen when he and Captain Celbi become Best Friends?

Pepito looks out over the Ocean, up in the crow’s nest keeping watch while Mister Felps uses the bathroom. It’s just Pepito.

…Just Pepito.

Pepito wants Apa Roier to be happy. Pepito hasn’t seen Apa Roier smile this much… ever!! He’s been happier than he’s ever been! And it’s all thanks to Captain Celbi and Richarlyson, they’re the ones Apa Roier smiles at the most.

Pepito likes when Apa Roier smiles. He has little wrinkles next to his eyes that crinkle up, and his eyes almost squint shut. His teeth aren’t as sharp as they are in the Ocean , but he has a lot of them. (Too many for a Sky Pepito, probably, but who cares?)

A pod of dolphins jump out of the water near the ship. Pepito waves at them with both hands; maybe they’ll tell his other parents that he’s fine!!

Pepito’s smile freezes. It falls.

He takes back his wave. Maybe his other parents should think he’s just dead. That way, they can be happy with their New Pepito.

On the deck, Richarlyson screeches out a laugh as Apa Roier scoops him up and throws him over his shoulder.

Pepito sniffs and wipes at Pepito’s eyes without really knowing why. He likes when Apa Roier is happy! When Apa Roier is happy, Pepito is happy.

He sinks down in the crow’s nest and sits with his knees to his chest. He can hear them having fun on the deck.

Together.

Minutes of painful, joyful noise later, Mister Felps climbs back into the crow’s nest with a loud groan.

“What a climb!” he moans. “Fuck!”

He flops onto floor dramatically. He’s breathing heavily, poor Mister Felps.

After a moment, he turns his head to look at Pepito with a smile. (He’s always smiling.)

“Did you see anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

Mister Felps’ version of ‘fun’ is… not quite Pepito’s version of fun. He likes to stare into the sun and talk to it. He makes seagull noises to ‘echolocate’ other seagulls to see if the ship is close to land. He sits with a pencil and some paper and writes notes to throw at Captain Celbi from the crow’s nest.

So Pepito shakes Pepito’s head. The only ‘fun’ around is with Apa Roier.

And Richarlyson.

Not on the Ocean, and not with Pepito.

“Awwww.” Mister Felps pouts. “I was hoping you would have a story for me!”

Mister Felps doesn’t mind that Pepito can’t talk. He says that Captain Celbi didn’t talk a lot when he was a kid, either. He apparently kinda just growled and swore, which isn’t really talking. Not really.

Pepito tries really hard not to flinch as Richarlyson starts laughing again on the deck- he tries!! So hard!! But he fails, because he’s a Bad Pepito.

He’s happy when Apa Roier is happy. But why does he feel so heavy right now?

Something in Mister Felps’ face shifts, and then he’s sitting up and smiling just a little mischievously. He crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap.

(He has so many tattoos, and they’re all of wings and eyes and he’s so cool!! Pepito would want to be like him when Pepito grows up if Pepito didn’t already want to be Apa Roier.)

“Did you know,” Mister Felps says, “that Cellbit is scared of spiders?”

Pepito’s eyes widen. What?? No way!

Mister Felps nods as if he’s reading Pepito’s mind.

“Yes, way!” he exclaims. “Every time we find one in the hold, he screams and runs to get Baghera to throw it overboard. He tried making one walk the plank once when he was a teenager. He hates them!”

He reaches out to take Pepito’s hands. He doesn’t hold them, though. He just plays with Pepito’s fingers, but that’s fine. He always does this when he’s talking: fidgeting.

“Listen,” Mister Felps continues, smiling wider, “it always sounds like this…”

And then he screams- high-pitched and ear-piercing and totally horrible, but the thought of Captain Celbi making that noise is enough to make Pepito burst out laughing.

“What the fuck?” Apa Roier shouts from the deck. “What was that?”

“Did Cellbit find another spider?” Mister Pac asks.

“I’m on the deck!” Captain Celbi protests. “I’m literally driving!”

“Are you?” Miss Mouse asks? “Or are you staring at-”

Captain Celbi cuts her off with a hurried: “Felps! What the fuck, man?”

Mister Felps puts his finger to his lips, winks, and hops onto his knees so he can wave down at Captain Celbi and shout, “Heeeeey!”

“What the fuck was that, Felps?!”

“I didn’t hear anything!”

“Are you deaf? What is wrong with you?!”

As Captain Celbi and Mister Felps keep arguing, and as the rest of the crew keeps shouting at each other, Pepito drinks in the silence.

Richarlyson, at least, isn’t talking.

[rdng1230]

Any SalTommy headcanons?

Thanks for the ask I have literally So many! ok I’m putting these into categories. The first is happy fluffy fun, the second and third is something I’ll probably have to discuss in therapy next week 🙃. For reals, I almost deleted those last paragraphs because here this nice person has come to my ask box and my brain has decided to reciprocate with the most hurt no comfort shit it’s ever concocted. Ok happy stuff first!

Saltommy as besties:

they are attached at the hip and their two favorite activities are Muay Thai and action movie marathons. At some point they get overly into the Guy Ritchie British gangster type movies and Hen has to institute a “stupid British accent” jar for the two of them.

Tommy and Sal don’t hang out that often once they leave the 118. But Tommy is ride or die for Sal’s daughter. He’s the fun uncle that isn’t constantly there but when he is he does something insanely awesome like build her a treehouse or a bottle cannon or something.

The reason Gina dragged Sal to twilight was because she is bisexual and just as into Kristen Stewart as he is. When Tommy *finally* comes out it’s actually Sal that suggests Gina take Tommy to his first pride. Sal stays at home with his daughter so Tommy and Gina end up having a very fun and alcohol filled night a la the bachelor party that wasn’t. (goddammit I think I just gave myself another fic in the series to write.)

k well that’s enough happiness this is about to get insanely angsty for no fucking reason besides apparently that my brain wants me to suffer today. If your brain does not desire to feed the angst demon inside of you, for the love of god stop reading now. I will NOT be offended because I wrote the damn thing and I think I took it too far. Also it gets a lil NSFW from here.

Evil toxic fucked up Saltommy:

Tommy’s fucked up dad and then fucked up army superiors and then fucked up captain Gerrard taught tommy he was safer following the big tough guy. He knows Sal is bad for him, knows Sal doesn’t love him, but he figures being useful is good enough when he knows he won’t be wanted. He lets Sal take more than he should, usually discreet hand/blowjobs in the showers or broom closet (yeah the metaphor isn’t lost on him)

They have a horrible call where the one person they did manage to rescue suddenly codes in the ambulance. A version of Sal that Tommy’s never seen before shows up at Tommy’s house. It’s the only time Sal ever lets Tommy fuck him and after it’s over, Tommy holds him and runs his hand through Sal’s hair. They fall asleep together but when Tommy wakes up Sal is long gone. The following week Sal is absolutely vicious to everyone. He ends up getting hurt and Tommy patches him up. As Tommy sterilizes a wound just above his eye, Sal grabs his arm and stares at him. It’s an apology, and it’s also an ending. Tommy still follows Sal, always one pace behind, but they’re never intimate again.

Idk I guess doomed lovers Saltommy? Sal’s not as much of a monster but they’re still not healthy:

There’s always a heat to Tommy and Sal’s banter and Tommy genuinely wonders if someday Sal might tip them into something more. One of the 118 probies dies and Sal on some level believes it’s his fault. The night of the probies funeral Sal’s just numb and Tommy suggests Sal crash his couch. Tommy hates seeing Sal in pain like that and hovers in front of the bedroom door wondering if he should go to him. He’s shocked when Sal opens the door and suddenly they’re in Tommy’s bed. He’s surprised by how cuddly Sal is. (And if you’re like hey that sounds a bit like Booth & Brennan shhhhh you saw nothing)

after that they start sneaking around. At this point Gerrard is gone and they’re in the revolving door of captains stage. Tommy starts talking about potentially telling Hen and Chim, and Sal just knows deep in his gut that Tommy is the braver of the two of them, and Sal won’t be ready in the time Tommy needs him to be. Sal starts picking fights hoping Tommy will run off on his own. Eventually they do stop seeing each other romantically but Tommy’s still so *close* it’s driving Sal insane. He wants to run away with him and he wants to run away from him at the same time. When Bobby shows up and doesn’t know his ass from his elbow a lot of the time, Sal let’s all that anger and tension bubble up, on some level he knows he can’t bring himself to leave Tommy, so he pushes Bobby into sending him away by force.

After he moves to the 122 he buries himself in the work. He makes captain, even starts dating men, but still in the shadows. He hears through the grapevine that Tommy is dating the 118’s hotshot. He sees a photo of Tommy and Buck at the medal ceremony in the morning paper, looking so obviously head over heels for one another, and it’s the first and only sick day as a captain he ever takes.

[im-livvy-the-fallen-leaf]

More animalistic headcannons about the demon bros and demons behavior in general because my hunger (just like Beelzebub) can never be filled. I hope I feed you well my children.

Do I even have to say it is Segestive?

So last time I briefly talked about mating calles. And I stay firm on that. Not only that but I one up that. And that's by the fact I believe that there's demonic language which to humans just sound like hisses, growling and chrips. There is 9 versions of demonic tounges. Of course the 7 sins each is a different animal so it makes sense? And 2 is the general like one that everyone that is devil born can read and write in if taught. Then theres a version for royals. If your like Solomon you can only speak a few words before you throat starts to bleed. It's to harsh for human vocal cords. It rips them apart.

However that doesn't mean you can't copy the specific animals. Only a couple words without any chancees with your vocal cords being ripped apart. After all their just animal noises , humans can mimic that anyways. For example if you hear Levi hiss you can copy it without much issue.

Now lets talk about how demons are fucking SCARYYYY

Because they are still man-eating demons. They have environment changes to eat humans. No matter what that's still hardwired into their system and never will leave. So yes do no worry if you see a pair of bright purple eyes looking at you at nighttime. Ignore how you can't move, it's just the 7th born's demon powers causing sleep paralysis. To them it's just a future meal he can share with his family. Don't worry, he was only checking on the human. he would never eat your soul... Let's hope yes? Just ignore the scratching on the walls you're ears pick up when Lucifer has to lock him away... Again.Don't question why you feel their sins often. Their not doing it on purpose... Most times.

Ignore when you hear their voice and you go to the room and see their not their. Probably on the ceiling. They forget that human just can't decide that being on the floor is so boring and love the wall.

For demons they are very unaware that humans aren't used to seeing demons or don't have the same strength. It also goes through same way for humans. Demons don't have what we consider adrenaline.. Well they do but not exactly. They can push themselves harder when they are in panic but it doesn't wear off like ours. It also isn't as good as what humans ares. Demons are strong anyways they can use more power then needed so they don't really have any their bodies can take all of their power unlike how we restrain ours so their brain doesn't really go past it's limites when adrenaline is added. So imagine their shock when you were in the underground tomb and as your going to get murdered you can suddenly pick up Beelzebub and Luke and run like fuck to get them safe.

It probably also surprised belphegor when all the sudden the weak human had enough strength where you could fight back and run to get yourself hurt. Of course you didn't manage to escape in time. But you left him with a hard to heal nose and a scar. (will definitely be writing a fic where you do survive because of your adrenaline)

Another thing is that demons have a natural sense of hierarchy in their families. The oldest you are the higher you are in power. This is mostly because the oldest tend to be stronger than their younger siblings. So while belphegor definitely does get pampered by his older siblings so do you. You are the youngest and the weakest. Sorry just true most human if not all can be as strong as a demon let a alone a avatar of a sin. So yes, in the later game if you complain or show any sign of pain you better get ready to deal with 6 clingy demons. Lucifer will simply do that in private if not life threatening.

I also fully believe that in heat demons are very.. Unhinged. For an example you wake up to a very happy Satan and Beelzebub at the foot of your bed with body covering them as you have a demon or an poor animal that crossed their path. Their only trying to show they can provide! Cue confused demons as you scream and call for another demon to help. WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?! "Why are you screaming? Are you not in the mood for food? no no stop crying" "Not hungry but they haven't eaten in awhile!" WHAT THE FUCK?! I Suggest you sleep with your door locked. Not like it would stop them but it gives you warning to expect a dead body.

Do expect to randomly be pulled in a nest made by anyone during this. Fight all you want you are getting smothered in blankets and soft items AND YOU ARE GOING TO LIKE IT. The main nest makers in this household are going to be Mammon are belphi. A close one is Lucifer but he doesn't really do it in public. His room is under strong lock and key during this.

Do expect to get harassed when you try to wake up. You try to get up and your getting tackled by the all the 7 sins. You will be cuddled because your "scent" Lord kill me I'm so sorry is stronget at the morning. Your clothes? GONE. Your blankets? GONE. NOT SEEING THEM AGAIN your dignity? NON EXISTENT. You will be robbed of everything you own and will be found in one of the brothers nest. Which then you will be washing it so much because I mean... Do I have to explain? Especially Asmo douse anything you get back from the the embodiment of lust with the finest laundry detergent, Holly water either from Michael or God themselves and hand sanitizer.

Yes the demons are gonna be sore. If you have a period you know when everything and anything that can be sore is sore. That's that from them. If they are winged they will always have their wings out. 1 because achey. 2 presenting to either get or doing the dick downing. They are also going to preen/clean their wings every so often. 1 a day at max. Do be careful where you step please. You try to leave the nest by some miracle you do. Tails and wings are everywhere. One wrong step and your setting off every demon in the HOL.

This is shit. This is very crappy. Please make more creative/ animalistic hc.. I beg 🙏

once again asks and requests are open and I yearn to see one

[michael-aftonz]

yk when u want a specific type of content but it like doesn't exist so u have to make it urself..

anyway have some bachelors x masc farmer ideas/headcanons/rambles. idk i just say words. long post so strap in, folks! honestly these could be considered gn if u squint bc i don't really use masc pronouns in the writing, however there are mentions of masc labels (boyfriend, husband)

mentions of internalized homophobia + depression

i may do bachelorettes x fem farmer next so stay tuned :3

harvey:

- wears his boyfriend's/husband's shirts. literally no exceptions. if you wore it, he is going to wear it too. you left a shirt at his place? oh. it's his now. and he's going to be smiling the entire time he wears it. this being said, i think he'd totally be like T____T it doesn't smell like you anymore and ask for a different one.

- loves to compliment your appearance or just you in general (in my play through he literally says "you look so handsome. did you shave?" like 3 times a week)

- personally, i see harvey as being bisexual + super open about it. like everyone in town supports him & they're so ecstatic for him when they see he has a boyfriend.

- if you have yet to ask him out, though, and he's realizing his feelings i think it would be very hard for him to hide them. someone could be asking him something and you walk into the clinic? his entire train of thought is GONE. i'm talking they have to wave their hand in front of his face to get his attention back.

- don't even get me STARTED on if you propose. he'd literally walk into the clinic, slam his coffee on the reception desk and be like, "MARU, LOOK." pretty sure he fainted and maru had to fan him back to consciousness.

elliott:

- despite elliott's openness with his own sexuality, i think he was terrified of your rejection. not too terrified obviously because something something inspiration from painful experiences yada yada. if you ended up not being interested in him, he probably would've gotten over it - but don't be surprised if you notice some strange subtext in his writing. he's a romantic writer - if he has feelings, they're going to get written down. sorry folks.

- but * yay * you didn't reject him, so elliott is still inspired. maybe you even become the next love interest in his newest novel? who knows.

- in his 14 heart event, he writes a series of letters to you because he has to leave pelican town for a week. i absolutely loved this idea and i think elliott would do this even if he was in the town. they could be something as mundane as what he did that day/week and he just. put it in the mailbox. you still enjoy reading them, though.

- i think he absolutely loves using "my" like "my man", "my husband" "my beloved" just anything, really. he loves you so much - and he knows he doesn't own you, obviously, he's just so glad he is lucky enough to call you his.

alex:

- i think alex was TERRIFIED of falling in love with you. in his 10 heart event, he mentions telling himself that he shouldn't experience these feelings for another man. every act of kindness you showed him ate away at his heart and it drove him crazy.

- i think he experienced a little internal homophobia before finally realizing that it was okay. it doesn't help that george is so adamant about him finding a girlfriend (and that george has a little homophobic arc 🥲). alex probably internalized these ideas and pushed himself into his gridball/weightlifting obsession to quiet his mind.

- after he finally worked up the courage to tell you how he felt - and was entirely relieved when you felt the same way - it was as if a weight removed itself from his chest. he could finally breathe again. the world seemed different - in a good way. colors were more vivid, sounds were more pleasing to hear, the earth felt solid underneath his feel for once. he wasn't afraid of anything, especially not with you beside him.

- now, he proudly walks around the town with your hand in his, smiling to himself.

- sometimes those thoughts start to seep back in, though. like when he's about to sleep at night and his brain just can't shut up. he starts to hate himself again, and then he feels you press against him or hears you mutter in your sleep and his heart softens.

- also he got george and evelyn shirts that say "i love my gay grandson" they wear them proudly.

shane:

- surprised that anyone took a romantic interest in him, not surprised by the fact that you're a guy.

- i don't think shane has a "preference" for dating someone, he goes based off of vibes + personality rather than gender or appearance. he also doesn't label himself or his sexuality/romantic attraction.

- he's definitely a shirt lender. like you see a nice jacket in his closet and you're like "hey, hun, can i borrow this?" "sure."

- thinks you look amazing in his clothes. probably puts the best ones on hangers (or at the top of the clothing pile) in hopes that you'd choose them.

- even if he doesn't show it outwardly, he's super afraid of losing you. because of his mental illness, he can't help but think that every good thing he has will be taken away from him or that he "doesn't deserve" them. (he does, and you often remind him of this if he gets too into his head).

- i picture him reaching over and placing a hand on your arm in the middle of the night JUST to make sure you were still there and not the universe playing a cruel joke on him.

- can cook, but he's so used to making frozen dinners that he often forgets to.

- if you're taller than him, forehead kisses are a MUST. he will not let you leave the farmhouse until he receives his daily forehead kiss.

- i think he loves being the little spoon. it just makes him feel safer, more grounded in a way. he's been at the point where it feels like nothing is permanent and it can all end in the blink of an eye, so being spooned helps him realize that it isn't all that bad and that it will be okay, given the right time and effort.

- shane definitely falls asleep on his husband's chest like.. once a week.

- because mental illness is a constant battle, i imagine shane still gets "bad days". but don't worry! his loving husband is here to help. shane's depressive episodes usually consist of lying in bed (often for days at a time) and it's extremely hard for him to do anything. but the farmer is used to this - he's definitely read up on mental health books and how to support someone with depression. the farmer never tries to force shane out of bed or tells him that he needs to "get over it". the farmer often checks on him in between their farm duties. i imagine when the farmer is completely finished, they sits down on the edge of the bed and play with shane's hair or rubs their hand up and down his back:

"hey shane, are you okay?"

"i will be."

"i love you, chickadee."

"i know."

"do you want some ice cream?"

"yes, please."

sam:

- by far, the most "affectionate"? in a way.

- sammy loves pda im sorry. if you two are walking along, he has to be touching you in some way - whether it's holding your hand. your arm looped through his own, your hand in his hoodie pocket, etc. he just needs physical contact. i also think he'd look at you with big, wet eyes and wait until you kiss him.

- he takes you to band practice !!! seb and abby don't really mind, and you even offer some input on how they should approach their next song.

- absolute golden retriever boyfriend. can and will curl up on your lap and cuddle against you (even if he's ridiculously tall and lanky).

- if and when you attend all his shows/concerts, he definitely pulls you on stage once the set it over and kisses you publicly - sebastian and abigail just roll their eyes (this happens every single time. they're used to it).

- probably has your name written on his guitar.

- i think kent and jodi would be some of the most supportive people ever - they're just happy their son found someone to be with, regardless of gender.

- i think kent would probably sit you down and give you "the talk" about *grumble grumble* if you break my son's heart *grumble grumble*. not that you would, obviously, you adore sam. but kent's words do put the fear of god in you - this is the man who sends you bombs in the mail as a "friendly gesture"

- don't let that fool you, though, kent will be an absolute waterfall if you and sam get married. i also think he'd be more of a "ask for his blessing" before proposing kind of guy, but he'd give it willingly.

- sam loves it when you run a hand through his hair (if he had a tail, it would be wagging).

- sam puppyboy au? thinking thoughts...

sebastian:

- i think the only one surprised that seb has a boyfriend is seb himself. he always pictured himself a "loner for life" and DEFINITELY didn't expect to fall in love with this weird farm boy.

- he probably spends more time at the farm house/wherever you two hang out than his own home. but who could blame him?

- he was so confused about his feelings that he ended up talking to maru for help (crazy, right?) the two of them built a pillow fort near maru's telescope and spent hours talking. it was quiet nice. this helped him realize two things: 1) maybe his sister wasn't all that bad and 2) he was DEFINITELY in love with another man. he didn't know which was more confusing.

- i think sebastian likely confessed first in a sort of "nonchalant" way. i think the conversation went like this:

farmer,teasing: "oooh, you wanna kiss me sooo bad it makes you look stupid."

seb: "yeah, i do."

neither of you were prepared for that. i think he would ease the tension by just. ignoring what he just said.

- i think he smiles like a frog . a sort of :} if you will. like bulbasaur.

- speaking of bulbasaur, that is definitely his favorite pokémon. oh and froakie. he just like the little frog dudes. would love you forever if you won him a plushie from the claw machine.

- it's no secret that seb often thinks no one would notice if he left, but getting closer to you made him realize that.. someone would. and maybe that's enough.

- if he stays up late working on a project, just walk over to his desk and wrap him into a back hug. bonus points if you voice is gravelly from sleep. "let's go to bed, sebby." he'd melt. like full on puddle on the ground.

- because sebastian is like 5'6 you'd think he enjoys being the small spoon. WRONG!!! he is a big spoon exclusively. you don't mind, though.

- he would die if you played with his hands while cuddling. please give this boy some physical affection. he deserves it.

[raineandsky]

Ur writing is soooo delicious 🤌 love it

Could u write a story about hero who is villain’s older brother and who is desperately trying to protect his little bro despite their completely different life attitudes . So villain is getting hurt and of course his older brother comes to his aid

Bonus points if there also is sidekick who doesn’t like villain but is still helping, cause he literally admires hero

I’d be really happy to read such story🩷

oooooh i loved this!! cant go wrong with some messed up family dynamics - thank you, hope you enjoy :)

No one wants to see their brother hurt. Not even the hero, not even when his brother has so clearly already chosen his side.

It had happened so fast. The villain was facing off with someone. Another hero, at the distracted villain’s back. A kick, the slash of a blade. The two heroes had laughed and shared a friendly high-five when the villain had gone down.

Heroism hasn’t been what the hero had expected—it seems the hero is one of the only ones that doesn’t hunt villains down in the name of fun.

Waiting for the other heroes to leave had felt like an eternity. The villain—his brother—left suffering on the pavement whilst the pair look for food places on their phones. Eventually, though, finally, they make a decision and casually make their way to the end of the block.

The hero can’t leap up fast enough. His sidekick lags slightly behind, glancing nervously at the road around like it might eat him.

The hero sinks to his knees in front of the villain, earning half a second of attention before the villain scoffs irritably. “Oh my god,” he says flatly. “Go away.”

The hero fights a roll of bandages out of his bag. “I’m helping, you moron.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Well I want to.”

Despite the attitude, the villain’s breathing is laboured, his face scrunched up slightly in pain. Blood is smeared on his clothes like the world’s ugliest, most heart wrenching painting.

“Ugh,” the villain says faintly. “You always had a thing for showing me up, didn’t you?”

“Saving your life isn’t me showing you up. I’m saving your goddamn life.”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit.”

The hero laughs, and the villain manages a a weak smile. The sidekick lingers awkwardly behind the hero, watching with wide eyes when the hero beckons him onto the ground next to him. “Hold that,” the hero says, holding the bundle of bandages to the sidekick, and he takes it without question so the hero can sever a strip from the roll.

The villain’s gaze flits up to him momentarily, like he’s just realising the sidekick’s there. He probably is, given the state he’s in. “Wow,” he says in the tones of brash sarcasm. “You brought your agency-sanctioned child with you and all.”

“I’m not a child!” the sidekick snaps, even though his voice has that traitorous childish squeak to it. “I’m a hero in training.”

“You go ahead and believe that, kid,” the villain says with a laugh that seems to pain him the moment it comes out.

The hero lays the bandage to the villain’s side, trying to ignore the way he winces at the contact. “Where’s your base?” the hero cuts in. If he didn’t, his brother would start an argument and then he’d never get a word in edgeways.

The villain rolls his eyes. “I don’t like you enough to tell you.”

“I’m trying to get you home, [Villain], I swear to god—”

“Give me one good reason to tell you.”

The hero thinks for a moment as he pulls the villain’s shirt back down and takes the roll back from the sidekick. “I’ll tell dad you ate his last cinnamon bun last year.”

The villain doesn’t look any less like shit, but he suddenly looks a little more alive. “You wouldn’t.”

“Where’s your base?”

“[Hero], that wasn’t me, I didn’t—”

“I saw you come in through the window and take it off the kitchen counter. Where is it?”

“You saw that?”

“[Villain].”

The villain groans in defeat. “You suck. It’s in that abandoned library at the other end of town.”

“Thank you. Right, [Sidekick], get his other side.”

The sidekick hesitates for a moment. “Is there a policy that we can drop villains off at home?”

“Of course not.” The hero fights off a slap as he helps the villain sit upright. “But if we don’t make sure people don’t die, who will?”

The ghost of a smile pulls at the sidekick’s lips. “That’s why I wanted to train with you. It’s just, I don’t know…”

He glances at the villain, who happily gives him a cold glare in return. “Only the best familial relations,” the villain says coolly.

“He’s my brother.” The hero ruffles the villain’s hair a little, earning a second, much harder slap. “We’re not on the same side, but at least he’s alive to be on the other side. I try to think of everyone we help as someone else’s brother.”

“I wish you were someone else’s brother,” the villain snaps, much to the hero’s amusement.

“Ah, that’s too bad for you then.” The hero gestures for the sidekick to take his spot, and together they heft the villain to his feet. “Because even when we’re on different sides of this war, you’re still my little brother.”

“Ew.” The villain makes an attempt to kick the hero and misses. “Don’t say that in front of your child.”

The hero laughs, and for a moment, it feels like they’re young again. Still at home. Still on the same side.

[purplemirrorart]

CaitVi Fan-Fiction - Part 3 - Learning to Weep

This is a follow up to this post (Parts 1 and 2) and is based on a loose idea of a possible ending for season 2. Please read the accompanying comic before reading this fan-fiction.

Also this is my first fan-fiction so...I dunno, go easy on me I guess. I hope you guys like it!

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

Vi had gotten pretty good at forgetting things. At this point, it was a necessity. If she remembered everything that had happened to her in Stillwater Hold, if she’d held that in her mind at all times, she’d never get anything done. Some might call that unhealthy, she saw it as a practical solution. She needed to keep going, keep functioning, and keeping those things locked in the back of her mind helped her do that. By now, she figured she’d be able to do it on command if needed.  

This was not something she could forget. This was not something she could block out. 

She had killed her sister. 

Despite her best efforts, the memory had seared itself into the fabric of her mind, playing again and again on repeat. She remembered how it felt as she thrust her arm forward, feeling the impact of her hextech gauntlet hitting Jinx…hitting her sister’s chest. She remembered feeling the bones in her ribs crunch and snap under the force of the blow, and the instant regret that followed, regret like she’d never felt before, violent and visceral, crashing through every nerve, every cell in her body in horror at what she’d done. What she couldn’t undo. She remembered the blood that spilled out of her sister’s mouth, it was a deep dark red with the slightest hint of purple from the shimmer that ran through her veins. She remembered feeling the blood splatter across her face, making her recoil backwards. She remembered looking down, and being surprised at just how much blood was on her gauntlets, and on her clothes. She remembered feeling guilty about how little of that blood was her own. She remembered how her sister gasped for air, her lungs collapsing under their own weight with each breath she took in. She remembered how little time she had to hold her in her arms before the body went limp, the life fading from her wide, pink eyes. She remembered the burning in her lungs as she screamed, her throat sore and her eyes red and watering as she shouted out curses at both herself, and the universe. She remembered burying the body, using the gauntlets to dig out a hole in rock and the dirt, covering it with stones. She remembered writing every letter of that gravestone…she figured her sister deserved this much; to not lie in an unmarked grave. She remembered turning around and seeing Caitlyn, standing there behind her a short distance away, her breathing heavy as if she’d just ran there…and she remembered the look in her eyes. She was horrified.

Vi bolted up in her bed, breathing heavily. She was drenched in sweat, and her head pounded with pain as a result of copious drinking the night before, no doubt in a fruitless effort to drown her sorrows. Truth be told, she couldn’t remember where exactly she was. Probably whatever Inn down in the undercity that’d let her keep drinking until she passed out and the staff had to drag her back to her room, which they’d inevitably kick her out of the next morning. 

“Fuck…that fucking dream again…shit…” she groaned to herself, head in her hands. It’d been about a week and a half since it’d happened, and she’d barely been able to sleep in that time. Usually she was too afraid to sleep for fear of running through that whole experience on repeat again, so she simply got blackout drunk in order to get any rest. It was an inelegant solution, but a solution nonetheless. Judging from the light outside, she figured it was probably still late at night, or early in the morning, which one didn’t particularly matter. What mattered was that she needed another drink or else her brain was gonna start working again any second now. She reached for the bedside table, where she vaguely recalled she’d last left the bottle, though as her hand stumbled around the countertop in the dark, she couldn’t find it. She turned over in the bed, looking at the dimly lit floor next to the bed in the hope that it’d just fallen onto the floor, but nothing. Then suddenly a light in the corner of the room clicked on. Vi’s head throbbed with pain as she covered her eyes with her arm, trying to adjust to her surroundings. 

“Fuck! Jeez, just leave me alone! I’ll be out of here in the morning…” Vi groaned, assuming that it was one of the staff at the inn telling her she’d overstayed her welcome. 

“Vi, it’s me.” Replied a steady, calming voice with a rather distinct uppercity accent. Vi recognised the voice immediately.

“Caitlyn?” Vi said, taking her arm down and getting a look at her. She was sitting at the opposite end of the room in a rather stiff looking office chair next to a simple desk, the light of the lamp bathing the room in a warm orange glow. She wasn’t in her enforcer uniform, rather she was dressed in the same purple cloth and corset that she wore the first time they travelled to the undercity together. Vi couldn’t help but note how the light hit Caitlyn’s face, how warm her cheeks looked, how intense her eyes were. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was a comfort to see her. Right now, Vi didn’t want comfort though, she didn’t deserve comfort after what she’d done. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” Vi asked, a little ashamed that Caitlyn had to see her like this. It was pathetic. 

“A couple of hours now. I didn’t want to wake you…you seemed like you needed the rest.”

“I wish you would’ve…” Vi grumbled. If she never had to sleep again, she wouldn’t. Bad enough being alone with her thoughts when she was awake. “How’d you even find me?”

“You didn’t make it easy, but I eventually narrowed it down to one of the taverns you hadn’t been kicked out of.” she said, with the slightest smirk. Vi chuckled a little.

“That’s smarts, Cupca-” She stopped herself, the half said word hanging in the air like something rotten. Vi cleared her throat before continuing. “Why'd you come looking for me?” She asked, cautiously.

“I was worried about you.” Caitlyn responded, plainly, trying her best to keep herself calm and collected. “When you didn’t come back to Piltover I thought-”

“Why would I come back to Piltover?” Vi said, bluntly. Caitlyn frowned, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know, I just…” Caitlyn’s voice trailed off, weakly, unable to find the words. 

“Caitlyn I…you don’t want me there, trust me. We did what we…what we had to do…” Vi’s voice wavered, before she choked down her tears, collecting herself. Now wasn’t the time for that. It never was. “But that’s over now. Did you think I was just going to go back to Piltover and be an enforcer? I don’t belong in that uniform.”

“I know, but-” 

“Now if you’re gonna sit here and try and convince me of the good we can do with a badge and a rifle then be my guest,  but I’m telling you now, I’m never doing that agai-”

“Vi, I quit the enforcers.” Caitlyn interrupted. The statement itself was practically enough to break through Vi’s hangover, and she was now laser focused on putting together how the hell those words made sense. 

“I…sorry…you did what?” She stammered, utterly perplexed. 

“I quit. I handed in my badge and my rifle one week ago. I’m relieved of all duties.” She said, still holding onto that matter of fact tone that you could swear she spent time perfecting in the mirror every morning before leaving the house. 

“But…but that’s…why? I mean, you’ve been working your whole life to be an enforcer, why now?” Vi asked. With Vi becoming a recluse following the death of Jinx, Caitlyn stood to take credit for bringing down the terrorist responsible for the attack on the council, and ending shimmer production from Zaun. If she wanted to, she could have become chief investigative officer, maybe even chief of police as a whole in a few years. For her to quit now…it just didn’t add up. 

Caitlyn sighed, before standing up and walking over to the edge of the bed. She cocked her head slightly downwards, silently asking if it was okay if she sat there. Vi promptly scooched up, giving her the space to sit on the edge of the mattress, the springs squeaking slightly under the weight of both of them.

“The things you said…the last time we saw each other…” Caitlyn started, her voice more solemn and quiet than before. Vi immediately felt a familiar pang of guilt run through her body. She remembered every word she said, and she also remembered how much of an idiot she felt like after she’d said them.

“Caitlyn I’m sorry, I didn’t-” 

“No. Vi, you let me finish.” She said, this time a bit more sternly, her voice wavering slightly. It was clear even to Vi that she’d been thinking about this for a while. Vi sat up straight and shut her mouth, making it clear she was going to be quiet until Caitlyn was done. 

“What you said to me…it hurt. It hurt a lot…because I knew it was true…” Caitlyn said, her voice shaking slightly, her bottom lip quivering before she took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her lips. Vi leaned forward slightly towards her, she wanted to comfort her but…the last time she’d laid hands on anyone was…she just didn’t want to hurt her. 

“I was so full of anger…I’m ashamed to admit it but I was upset that I wasn't the one to…I wanted that. I wanted revenge…at least I thought I did. But looking at that gravestone you placed…” she took another deep breath and sighed. This whole time she was looking down at her hands, which held tightly onto one another. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Vi.

“What Jinx did was terrible…and I still don’t know yet if I have it in my heart to forgive her, even now. But Jinx wouldn’t be Jinx if it wasn’t for what happened to her…to both of you…you both deserved so much better, and if you’d gotten it maybe none of this would’ve happened…looking at it all…I realised the world doesn’t need another enforcer…another angry woman with a gun…” Caitlyn said, clenching her fists tighter.

“Caitlyn you…you’re more than that.” Vi said, softly, moving a little closer on the bed. She could feel her stomach tying itself in knots, hearing Caitlyn speak like this, hearing how much she’d changed. It took her aback. 

“I can be…” she replied. “I can be better than that, but the fact is I wasn’t…and so now I’m trying to be.” Caitlyn finally turned to Vi, tucking a strand of her long blue hair behind her ear. “As it stands, Piltover is without proper council. Maybe there I can do some good. Real good, that doesn’t involve pushing people down.”

Vi gave Caitlyn a reassuring smile “Ah, now there’s the girl scout I know.” She teased. Caitlyn let out a relieved laugh, happy to see that Vi approved of her plans. “You’re gonna make a lot of enemies, Cait, making changes like that…it’s gonna piss people off, both in Piltover and here.”

“I know.” Caitlyn said “which is why I’ll need someone to…help keep me safe…” her voice dropped to a soft whisper as she moved her hand on top of Vi’s. They touched for only a moment before Vi pulled back, shifting almost instinctively back into the bed, almost like a frightened animal. “Vi…” Caitlyn whispered, worriedly. 

Vi didn’t want to admit to herself how nice it was to feel Caitlyn’s touch again, even if it was only briefly. But then it all came flooding back. What those hands had done…all the blood that still stained them, even now, beneath the surface. She shook her head, her breathing becoming more rapid and uneven.

“I…I can’t…I can’t Caitlyn, I can’t…I don’t want to hurt you….” She said, her voice breathy and hoarse as she tried her damndest to keep herself together. “Trust me it’s better if-”

“No, Vi. Not the oil and water again, I don’t want to hear it. You’re not pushing me away again.” Caitlyn responded, sternly but earnestly. “I want to be here for you, Vi.”

“Don’t you get it?! I can’t keep you safe! I can’t keep anyone safe! All I do is hurt and hurt and hurt and I can’t…I-I can’t…” Vi stammered over her words, her face straining to hold back tears, her breathing short and rapid. Her hands gripping the bed sheets so tightly they might rip. 

Before Vi could let out another word, Caitlyn darted forward and wrapped her arms around Vi’s body, hugging her tightly, her head burying itself into the crook of her neck as she held onto Vi for dear life. Vi could feel her breathing almost halt completely, her eyes wide. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Vi…and I’m not letting you go…never again…” Caitlyn whispered. 

“But…but…I don’t wanna hurt you…” Vi mumbled, quietly. 

“Vi, listen to me…meeting you…getting to know you…you’ve changed me for the better. I don’t want to think about the person I’d be without you, Vi.”

She pulled back slightly, looking into Vi’s eyes, gently placing a hand on her cheek and softly caressing it.

“You told me I’m more than just a gun, so I’m telling you, Vi. You’re more than just someone who hurts. So much more than that…you’re brave…you’re ferocious…you’re determined…and I’ll be damned if you condemn yourself because you don’t see how brilliant you are…”

Vi leaned into Caitlyn’s touch, unable to stop herself from embracing the soft comfort of it. She’d almost forgotten how good it felt…how right it felt. 

“Damn, Cait. You’re gonna make me blush.” She said with a weak laugh, trying her best to smile through it all. To brush off her prior state of panic as nothing more than a brief lapse in her composure. Caitlyn leaned in a little closer. 

“Vi?” She asked in a soft but serious whisper. 

“Yeah, Cait?”

“When was the last time you cried?” She asked. 

The question pierced Vi, right to her core. She could feel herself faltering, both from hearing Caitlyn ask it, and from thinking over the question in her mind. She remembered the tears from after she…but she’d hardly given herself a moment back then to truly let it all out. There’s a difference, after all, between simple tears and truly allowing oneself to cry. To really cry. Going back before that…she couldn’t remember. It must have been years now…maybe at Stillwater…maybe even earlier. 

“I…I don’t…” Her voice cracked, her eyes going hazy as she felt the droplets begin to roll down from her eyes to her cheeks, down to her jaw. Caitlyn pulled her close again, as Vi began to cry. Not just cry, but sob. Weep. For the first time in years it all came flooding back. All that pain, all those things she’d locked away to keep on moving. To keep surviving. 

Tonight, in Caitlyn’s arms, she let herself be weak. She let herself be fragile, for the first time in such a long time. She clutched onto the back of Caitlyn’s shirt as her face became a mess of tears, her nose running, her eyes red like her hair. It was a messy, shameless kind of emotional outpour, the exact kind of thing they both needed. 

Caitlyn, of course, was crying too. It was hard not to, after everything they’d been through together. It was almost like Cait couldn’t release, couldn’t let it flow until she knew Vi had too. All that grief the two had shared, finally being expressed, together.

“I miss my sister… I miss her so much…” Vi cried out, over and over again. This was probably the first time she’d really said it out loud. Always felt it, ever since she’d lost Powder the first time, all those years ago. But this was the first time she’d really felt like she could say it. That she could admit that to someone. 

“I miss my mum…I miss my mum…” Caitlyn cried back. The two continued to cry, holding onto each other as tightly as one might hold a raft at sea. They cried for what felt like hours, before eventually their breathing slowed. The tears stopped. They simply held one another, and it felt good, better than Vi had felt in a long time. For so long she hadn’t allowed herself peace, whether it was because she thought she didn’t need it, or she didn’t deserve it. But right now, at this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to turn it down, not that Caitlyn would let her. 

They both moved back, looking into each other's eyes. Vi wiped the tears from Caitlyn’s eyes, and Caitlyn wiped the tears from Vi’s. As Vi’s thumb brushed the tears away from Caitlyn’s cheek, it just barely grazed against her lip. 

Caitlyn glanced down at her lips, then back up to her eyes. She could feel Vi’s steady breathing. Her hand moved back slightly, running through Vi’s soft, reddish pink hair.

Vi, almost on instinct, leaned forward, her forehead pressing lightly against Caitlyn’s. They looked at one another, eyes half lidded as they embraced. 

“Cait?” She whispered.

“Yes, Vi.” she responded. 

“Can I still call you cupcake?” she asked. Caitlyn smiled, then laughed. 

“God, I love you” She said, before pressing her lips against Vi’s. 

As much as it seemed like it at that moment, their troubles weren’t over. In the coming months, the two of them would face hardships and sadness, trials and tribulations, red tape and political meddling from all sides. Caitlyn’s attempts to broker peace between Zaun and Piltover would be met with opposition and aggression from all sides. Their battles were far from over. There would be losses. There would be tragedy and violence, hate and division. But in the face of it all, every once in a while…the two of them could always hold each other for dear life, and cry their hearts out for as long as they needed. Together. 

[annabtg]

Can I ask why you like James? Everything he and his friends did are toxic male traits. They deserved to be expelled for how they treated Snape. All that guy wanted to do was study and spend time with the girl he loved. Snape shouldn’t have called her a mudblood but that was provoked by James. That guy had ruined Snape’s future and made him turn to the dark arts. How can you support someone like that?. Lily was in love with Snape and I’m certain James snuck a love potion to her or manipulated her into thinking Snape was evil. Snape deserved a happy ending with Lily, and he would have been a better father to Harry than James ever could have. Unfortunately, James arrogant and bullying personality rubbed off on his son. I don’t get how you people can like character like that. Snape deserved Lily because he loved her more than James ever could have.

Is this 2015 Quora?

Well, I meant to get some writing done, but there's always the afternoon, I suppose. I can never resist an opportunity to ramble about my favourite characters!

Can I ask why you like James?

Sure you can (case in point) but why do you care? Do I know you? Do you read my writing? It doesn't seem like it, because he has a central role in it, often highlighted with tags such as "James Potter is a Little Shit", so you'd have an idea already. You're probably just asking to distract me from writing more fic about him. Slightly bothersome, but ultimately beneficial to my essay-writing skills.

Everything he and his friends did are toxic male traits.

As a pharmacist, I will tell you that the dose makes the poison. Anything can be toxic if you take enough of it.

They deserved to be expelled for how they treated Snape.

They did die in the end, which I understand is not as good a punishment as being expelled, but it will have to do.

All that guy wanted to do was study and spend time with the girl he loved.

Spending time with the girl you love is only a nice and honourable thing if she also wants the same thing. If she tells you she's not interested, it's creepy and disgusting.

Snape shouldn’t have called her a mudblood but that was provoked by James.

I fail to understand how a boy who can't even begin to utter the word and is obviously smitten with a girl, can convince another boy to call that same girl a racial slur. It seems rather counterintuitive.

That guy had ruined Snape’s future and made him turn to the dark arts.

Okay listen, I know that working with teens can be a pain sometimes but overall getting a job with tenure at the most prestigious magic school of Britain at the age of 19 is hardly a ruined future. I have many friends who would turn to the dark arts for it.

How can you support someone like that?

Well, he's hot and I have a thing for arrogant smart-arses.

Lily was in love with Snape and I’m certain James snuck a love potion to her or manipulated her into thinking Snape was evil.

Wait, no, we're not on 2015 Quora. 2015 Quora would be claiming that Lily was an ungrateful bitch who treated Snape so badly even though the poor sod loved her with all his life. Because honestly, we never see her showing any kind of love towards Snape. She's always lashing out at him or trying to get something out of him. So self-centered.

Snape deserved a happy ending with Lily, and he would have been a better father to Harry than James ever could have.

As the wonderfully loving way he treated Harry in the books proves beyond doubt, I assume?

Unfortunately, James arrogant and bullying personality rubbed off on his son.

I'm going to have to play the scientist card again but I have to inform you that genes don't work quite like that.

I don’t get how you people can like character like that.

Does this post help at all?

Snape deserved Lily because he loved her more than James ever could have.

Lily was a whole person and could choose her own partner. If she would rather marry the guy who loved her less, that's on her, not on James. I suppose he must have had some qualities that compensated for his less-than-perfect love.

[fireflylitsky]

There is no smile. Death does not wear such a thing. But Death does not mourn either, and if this isn’t mourning, Kakuzu doesn’t know what else to call it.

Read the fic here.

Rating: T

Words: 1,588

Characters: Kakuzu and Hidan

Warning: I've been told it's very sad. Mind the tags.

[corrodedcoughin]

little story about little Eddie and his 2 new friends | word count approx 2.5k | general audience rating | steve and eddie are kids and Wayne is a pushover

Wayne sometimes thinks it was a mistake, not taking in the boy. God no, he would never think of Eddie as anything other than an important and intrinsic part of his life, couldn't be without him, wouldn't want to be. 

No, what Wayne worries about is how his readiness to help Eddie feel loved might contribute to the boy's difficulty in making friends.

It was an innocent enough request, Eddie asked for a pet as all young children do. He was so small and so wide eyed, just a scrap of an 8 year old with more feelings than he knew what to do with. Wayne knew he'd never hold up against any request Eddie made but he liked to pretend to himself that he could. And while technically he never pandered to the boy, yes Eddie usually got what he wanted but in a way that suited their means. Or so Wayne tells himself. 

8 year old Eddie asked for a pet and a pet is what he got.

-

Eddie barrelled into the trailer door, backpack swinging off his arm and ready to be thrown into the corner. Planning to shoot off back out the door to do his usual; lift up rocks and inspect whatever bugs he could find, to grab sticks and imagine them as wizard staffs, to let his imagination finally run wild after hours of sitting still at a desk under too bright lights and too busy class rooms. In truth he wasn't really paying attention to the insides of the trailer, expecting it to be the same as always. It took a very pointed cough for Eddie to register that Wayne was unusually home from work, far earlier than normal, and a further loud clearing of the throat for Eddie to pay attention to what Wayne had placed on the kitchen table. 

Right in the middle of the table, sitting in a beam of sunlight, was a cage and in that cage was what would soon become, Eddie's very reason for being. He crept up close, almost as if scared that any sudden movements would prove the whole thing to be a cruel illusion. He was brought out of his reverie by a pink nose wiggling at the bars, whiskers attached and twitching as the rest of the rat appeared.

'is he-? is he for real?' Eddie said with a gasp, hands inching towards the door of the cage. 

Wayne had to suppress a laugh, trust this boy to be bowled over in wonder at a rat as if it were a puppy. He opened the contraption of the enclosure door and dipped his hand inside, allowing the rat to climb onto his palm. The guy from work assured him that this one was the most tame he had, inquisitive to a fault and oddly enough, desperate to be handled. Quite honestly, the perfect match for his well meaning but excitable nephew-near-enough-son. 

'Yeah, yeah kid it's for real. And he's a she.' Wayne lets the rat sniff at Eddie's hands, little pink hands finding a platform on Eddie's palms, clearly holding himself a still as possible but if Wayne knew this boy, and he did, he knows that Eddie is so close to vibrating out of his skin, that containing that much excitement must be killing him. 

'I don't care. Wayne, I don't! Can she sleep in my room? Does she know tricks? Can I teach her? What does she like? Can I take her to school? Please! Wayne!' He's started now, words pouring out of his mouth, tripping over himself to try and release every thought entering his brain at lightning speed.

'Woah, there' Wayne says pulling the rat up, cradling it in two hands, 'We got to be kind to her alright? She's only small. Doesn't know what loud noises are good and which are bad, okay?' He watches as Eddie nods vigorously, eyes never leaving the creature. 'Now you promised me you'd look after a pet so that's what's going to happen. She is your responsibility. That means cleaning, feeding and loving, got it?' Eddie nods again, tentatively reaching his hands up, the image of Oliver Twist springs to Wayne's mind. 

Wayne comes around the kitchen table, crouches down to Eddie on creaky knees and hands the rat over, filling Eddie's small hands with a heartbeat and fur. Eddie giggles, watching as the rat surveils the new patch of skin its found itself on. 

'Tickles, Wayne' and its said with such love and devotion Wayne almost feels his heart break 

'Yeah son. She does, doesn't she?' 

-

 Of course it takes less than a week and Eddie and Sam are inseparable. As soon as Eddie gets home he's itching for his furry friend, delighting in the way she scampers around the room, over his arms and anywhere she can get. No matter what though, she always comes back to him. She can be digging in to a particularly interesting crevice behind the couch but she'll always come running back when she hears Eddie make a noise.  

The thing is, Eddie is a pretty lonely kid. Not for lack of trying, don't get it wrong. Eddie tries to socialise he tries to talk to the other kids in his class, get them involved in his imaginary games and play pretend but being the new kid doesn't really do him any favours. Being the new kid that lives in the trailer park and a penchant for biting to show affection does him even less. 

To Eddie, its him and Sam against the world. He can come home and know that his best friend will listen to all his problems, will stay close and won't run away even when he's extra loud or being 'a lot' as his teacher like to tell him. He's so tired of being told to use his 'quiet hands', his 'inside voice' and every other subdued phrase they try to press on him. 

This particular day was a hard one, Sally Winters had said that Eddie was 'bad luck' and the word quickly spread around by recess. Eddie had thought he was making some progress with a couple of kids from the class, was thinking today might be the day that he finally got asked to play but that hope quickly got squashed. He had hopped up to the potential friends with a stick in his hand and a notion of being a pirate when they both looked at him like he was a monster, they couldn't get away fast enough. And Eddie couldn't find a place to hide quick enough before the fat and heavy tears fell from his eyes. 

It was a long day and home time was his only saving grace. 

Wayne knows somethings up, can tell in the way that Eddie isn't even really talking to Sam, hardly looking at the Tv despite the fact that Wayne very purposefully had put the cartoon Lord of the Rings movie on. The sure fire fall back he liked to keep in his back pocket. The trump card to get his kid happy. This time though? No luck. Looking at the kid makes a chasm open up in his gut, deep and full of overwhelming sadness that he just wants to stop, wants to find the solution to make this boy smile like the sun again. They don't talk much for the rest of the night but Wayne makes sure to stay close, stay awake in case he's needed. Eddie spends the time between dinner and bed sitting on the floor, side pressed up against Wayne's leg and playing fetch with bits of Wayne's whittling with Sam, not a word said. 

-

Eddie wakes up the next morning with a plan and a devil may care attitude. Oh so carefully he maintains his usual routine; says good morning to Sam, carts her around the trailer as he washes his face and wanders into the kitchen, placing her in her secondary cage so she can eat breakfast with Eddie and Wayne - Eddie was adamant that they couldn't have meals without her, 'she's part of the family!' and soft hearted fool Wayne Munson agreed and an additional cage was sourced. 

When breakfast is finished Eddie begins his usual rigmarole of dragging his feet to get out of his pjs and into his clothes, reluctant to grab his bag and go out the door. Same old protests as Wayne watches him walk out towards the school bus. 

What is a new addition to the routine though, is Sam Munson hiding up the sleeve of a school boy and about to go on a secret and very dangerous mission. A mission to survive the school day. 

Surprisingly, Eddie manages to keep Sam secret, keep her safe, the whole morning. He came prepared with snacks to make sure she was entertained and happy, he couldn't stand the thought of her being sad, her eyes get so big and her tail droops as well as her ears, it makes the whole of Eddie ache. But no, she's happy, or happy enough at least. 

So the morning goes without a hitch, Eddie making noises to cover up any squeaks and keeping a hand in his pocket to reassure Sam, stowed in the pocket of his hoodie. He knows he's seen as 'weird' so what's a few extra noises? They are let out for recess and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, thinking this is his time to let Sam out, knowing she's desperate for some fresh air. Sure, she's peed in his hoodie pocket, but he can't really tell with it's dark colour and the layer of t-shirt between the wet material and his tummy. 

He runs off to his usual corner, stuck between a bush and a tree and gently tips Sam out of his pocket, she scampers around his feet and gratefully accepts a broken off bit of cracker between her hands.

'Thanks for coming with me Sam. Everyone is so mean, its so stupid. I don't care. You are a better friend than any of those losers' He crouches down, hoping to find a twig to play fetch with. A game that he delights in, is immeasurably proud of her for learning it so quickly. 'Gonna find you the best stick Sam. Promise. Best stick for the best friend' 

He continues muttering to himself and doesn't notice that he's getting progressively louder after finding a twig and beginning the game. Doesn't register that he's drawn unwanted attention with his happy shouts and encouragement until a body is crashing through the shrub he's hidden himself behind. 

Sam doesn't notice either until the unexpected form is right in front of her and she bolts, running as fast as her legs will carry her and Eddie is right behind her, muttering under his breath as he trips over his own feet in an attempt to catch her 'oh shit oh no oh no oh no' He's pushing himself as hard as he can but it doesn't count for much, he never was the fastest. He keeps trying though but then a faster body is accelrating past him, in a evident bee line for Sam. 

Without thinking, Eddie lets out a painful 'NO!' terrified of what might happen.

He knows people think rats are dirty, thinks they don't deserve love and don't deserve life. He doesn't want to imagine what this person's intent might be. Sam reaches a dead end up against the wall of the school and the body, the boy, stops infront of her. Scoops her up? Cradles her into his chest? Eddie...Eddie doesn't know what to think, he's prepared to fight this kid but then the boy is looking up at him with curious hazel eyes. Stroking Sam's head gently and with intent.

He holds Sam out, careful with his motions, trying to blow his brown floppy hair out of his face without disturbing the animal in his hands 'is she okay? is she yours? did I hurt her? she looks okay, is she?' Eddie gingerly steps forward and plucks Sam out of the boys hands, gives hera thorough inspection as the other boy continues 

'I didn't mean to scare her I swear! I didn't even know you had her! I won't tell, I swear I wont! You know...you shouldn't really have a rat in school. If I promise not to tell can I play with you? I'm Steve' 

Holding her close, Eddie squints at the boy, at Steve, and thinks. Thinks about how he looks nice, about how soft his hair looks and how he asked Eddie, Eddie!, to play, that he didn't give him a wide bearth and that he held Sam with such care. It isn't even a hard decision.

They spend the rest of recess together. Eddie shows Steve just how smart Sam. That she can play fetch, that she can run across one arm to the next, over your shoulders without losing balance. That she can twitch her whiskers and it seems like she's laughing at the joke Eddie tells her. That she laughs at the joke Steve tells her! Steve learns that she's named after somebody called Samwise and it doesn't matter that he's a boy because Sam is brave just like Samwise and smart and cares just as much. That Sam is Sam and Eddie is Frodo and together they can take on the world. 

Steve asks if he can have a name too and Eddie calls him Legolas, doesn't tell him why. Doesn't say that Steve reminds him of the pretty elves described in the books Wayne reads out loud to Eddie. It doesn't matter, not really. 

Recess ends and they shuffle back to the school doors, both of them lagging behind the others.

Eddie steels himself, knows he has to bring his misfortune up so that he can own in, so that his new friend doesn't find out from someone else. 'I'm bad luck you know. Sally...she said it. now everyone wont talk to me. I wont be mad if you don't either. I've got Sam. We'll be oaky! So you can just go, I don't care!' He knows he's getting wound up, he can't stop himself. He just wants the bandaid ripped off so he can start feeling sad quicker, get it over with sooner.

Before he can register is, Steve is wrapped around Eddie in a flash of a hug, careful to keep his tummy away from squashing Sam. 

'Not bad luck to me. See you tomorrow Frodo' Steve whispers next to Eddie's ear and shuffles through the school door. 

Eddie is in a daze of joy and happiness, thoughts rumbling through his head but none of them sticking as he journey back into his class room. Pure happiness radiating out of his body, he takes Sam out of his pocket and holds her up to his face 'Sam you made my bad luck go away!' kissing her on the forehead as he hears his teacher scream 

'EDWARD MUNSON IS THAT A RAT?!'

-

So Wayne thought the already unpopular kid having a rat would make things worse. Turns out, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. He might have to start pocket inspections before school though.

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

also on ao3 if that's the preferred reading format for you

[poppy-metal]

writing my friend a letter to put in w her care package im sending her.... making me think of the letters creep!au art writes to birdie that he never sends bc he doesn't know where she is, doesn't know anything about her really, because it was all a lie - but he writes like he wants her to read them - pours every dark, angry, miserable, yearning thought into them - pen pressed so hard to paper the ink bleeds in places -

i fucked this girl last night - i never used to think I'd be this guy - the kind that 'fucks' women. treats them as disposable - a means to an end. but its what i do now - i have no desire to hold anyone intimately or hold their hand or be gentle with them. i just want to inflict the pain you brought onto me onto others. its consensual, but sometimes I wish it wasn't. i thought about choking her until she stopped breathing entirely because her moans were so fucking annoying and exaggerated and I just wanted to cum. she didn't deserve that. she didn't deserve the way I used her body. she didn't deserve the burst capillaries i sucked into her skin or the way i called her names. she didn't deserve to be thrown out into the cold to find her own way home. i can't share a bed, though. you did that. and it occurs to me that she may not deserve those things; but you do. i wish you were here so i could do them to you instead. except it'd be a lot worse. i can hold back with others. recognize they aren't the ones who hurt me. i don't think i could hold back with you - i don't think I'd want to. i want you to hurt, birdie. i want you to hurt so fucking badly. it's all i think about and as crazy as it sounds - it's what keeps me sane. i think I probably would have killed myself, otherwise. i really couldn't handle what you did to me. still can't. but thinking about all the ways i could punish you - well. it makes the days pass easier. I don't know if I'll actually ever find out who you are - and the small part of me that's the old me - the me before you - hopes i never do. because i genuinely think I'd fucking kill you.

[starlight-eclipsed]

That moment when you realize the people interrogating you are very bad at it.

And here's the weekly reminder to go read A Dark Among the Lights by LuckyLectio on AO3! My phone's auto predictions can almost write out that entire sentence without prompting by now XD

Alt. version under the cut since I couldn't decide which I liked better.

[encrucijada]

okay this wolf book is so fun actually

[actual-changeling]

if you do not follow/haven't seen my recent posts, i really recommend you read this one and this one before continuing, just to make it hit the right way.

also reminder that i have an ao3 right here (and it's not all pain, promise!)

sorry in advance :)

-

the more time passes, the easier it is for joel to talk about sarah. it still hurts, always will, an old bullet buried in his heart surrounded by scar tissue, but except for a few memories, words don't make him bleed anymore. tommy tentatively starts bringing her up once he notices that joel no longer flinches when he mentions her name, and it feels good to breathe life into their shared experiences, his brother the only one who comes close to understanding his pain but also the joy that colored their years.

ellie asks, too, just as hesitantly as tommy at first, but soon her curiosity takes over and not a day passes by without a question in-between sentences about his past. joel answers all of them, stories spilling from his lips and spinning themselves into a sarah-shaped web that he can share with her.

"she played soccer, right? when did she win her first competition?"

there's a few sports teams in jackson, and of course the soccer one caught her eye, making joel dread all the twisted ankles and bruised shins he was going to have to tend to. getting grass stains out of sarah's uniforms had always been a task and a half, and eventually they both stopped caring about it and just watched them pile up, turning white fabric a greenish-brown.

joel opens his mouth, the coffee cup in his hand hovering above the kitchen table, and then he stills, every muscle in his body turning to ice.

ellie's joel? is drowned out by the ringing in his hears, knuckles turning white and gripping the porcelain so tightly he can feel it crack in his palm, and he must have stopped breathing because his vision is growing fuzzy, black dots scurrying in his periphery.

joel lets the cup fall more than he sets it down, stomach turning, bile rising in his throat, because ellie asked him a question about sarah, his sarah, and he doesn't remember the answer.

it can't be, right? just a small gap in his memory, nothing big, it'll come back to him in an hour and he'll tell ellie about it later. but the panic squeezing his chest is real, terror slithering up his neck and curling around his ear whispering what else did you forget?

more than ever before, he tries to think back to all of it, from the first time he held her in his arms to the moment he buried her, and something odd happens to him when he finds that so much of it is. blurry. frayed at the edges, burned holes and white blotches obscuring important and unimportant details alike, memory an old role of film decomposing in the back of his mind.

the color of her baby blanket (blue, it had to be blue, he can't see), the first movie he watched with her, her favorite book in primary school, the way he did her hair on the first day of kindergarten, the friendship bracelets they made together, the posters on her wall, the dress she wore to her first dance (purple right? right?), memories surfacing as his panic cracks him open like an earthquake, and joel tries to cling to them, nails scratching at the parts that should be there but aren't until he tastes blood, desperation growing and growing because he is forgetting her.

"joel you're scaring the fuck out of me right now what's wrong?"

ellie's voice is distant, and he hates worrying her, hates the almost hysteric edge beneath it when she repeats herself, hands squeezing his shoulders, softly, first, then harder when he doesn't respond. all of the years that he didn't even know she existed, memories she has that he never will, all the firsts and buts and what ifs and failures that define a childhood, their innocent light fractured into vivid fantasies by the stained glass window of life. he has had all that and more with sarah, clung to it in the after to remind himself that she is real, that he is still a father even with his daughter buried by a nameless river.

it is all he has left of her, the childhood she never got to outgrow, and it's fading in a mind that has mourned her for longer than she got exist.

not for the first time, joel wishes he hadn't flinched, his brain worthless if it allowed sarah to fade away. without ellie bound to his heart, he would have tempted fate again for that alone.

-

"who hurt you" too many people to count and luckily tumblr lets me make it everyones problem

[kodii-ak]

Pain

A comic about my chronic pain experience.