#SHE’S REGAINING CONTROL BY KILLING THIS MAN

[flastar13]

I totally agree, instead of the anime having so many extra characters for the Sailor Senshi plots, they could have gone deeper into the Shitennou's history.

Jadeite instead of being eternally frozen somewhere in the North Pole could have been purified by Sailor Moon or exorcised by Sailor Mars. Returned to his civilian form and with few memories of either of his two lives as a side effect of suffering a mind control spell, the girls send him to live at the Hikawa Shrine while they try to find out about his true identity. At first Rei isn't too happy to have him under her roof because the last time he kidnapped several visitors to the temple to steal their energy, but over time she begins to grow fond of him for his effort in working as a monk and his sincere concern for the Sailor Fire's well-being, Jadeite would immediately fall in love with Rei for her beauty and for taking care of him, eventually evolving into a love based on admiration and respect. Jadeite's same abilities to attract victims would now be used to sell amulets, increasing the profits of the Hikawa temple. Because of that and his care for Rei, he would get along well with the grandfather. As he regains his memories, Jadeite would be horrified by his deplorable acts, becoming obsessed with redeeming himself, trying to somehow reward his victims and overprotect Mamoru, the reincarnation of his former lord. Rei, with Mamoru's help, would manage to rescue him from that self-destructive path. Jadeite would also help Rei deal with the memories of the past because the guardian of passion does not want anything to do with her past life. Their relationship would be one of mutual support that would make them improve.

As for Nephrite, I also believe that his subplot with Naru should have been with Makoto. The only thing that would change is that instead of dying, Sailor Moon or Mamoru, purify him but instead of being good Nephrite returns as a Canadian teenager who does not know why he is in Japan, basically returns to his pre-dark kingdom reincarnated self. While they locate his family, he would live with Makoto (Rei already has a Shitennou, Usagi and Ami live with their families, Mako is the only one who would not have to give explanations to an authority figure) the sailor of thunder would try to remember him but Neph does not want to know anything about his past as a minion of the dark kingdom. He would take a part-time job at Game Center Crown so as not to be a kept man, he would develop a rivalry with Motoki because of the attraction that Makoto feels for him and would get closer to Mamoru because he acts as a kind of older brother. Then he would begin to recover his powers, causing chaos and destruction due to his lack of control. He, Jadeite and Mamoru would begin to train their powers but their inability to accept their past prevents them from reaching their full potential. Although she likes Makoto too much, she hates having to compete with the memory of an evil villain, and Sailor Jupiter's determination to never fail in her duty again would cause a rift between the two. Only when Makoto nearly gets killed in a confrontation with a Youma, Neph would first try to convince her that he doesn't owe anything to the Moon, Mako would accuse him of running away from his own duty for fear of assuming his sins. Nephrite instead of getting angry would actually accept that Mako is right. After some adventure of stellar self-discovery, she would accept her past but also her present. Only then does she manage to help Makoto, convincing her that while her mission from past lives is important, living and fulfilling her dreams from her current lives is also important. So the two decide to start their relationship from scratch, as the people they are now. Eventually they evolve into an effective battle couple.

A rivalry between Zoisite and Ami is pure gold. But once Beryl kills him, Ami would take back his stone with the excuse of "investigative purposes" but in truth she wants to get it back. She would force Usagi to launch purifying waves to his gem and would subject the two Shitennou to sessions of many questions about how they were purified and resurrected. None of this would be successful and depressed Ami would always carry it in her pocket, until Dark Endymion attracted by the energy of the stone, would unconsciously bring Zoisite back. Instead of the reunion came with hugs and kisses, which the youngest of the Shitennou expects with his girlfriend and old friends, they would tie him up to be able to discover if he is the general cheater of the dark kingdom or the knight of the golden kingdom, in the resulting analysis Ami would discover that although the silver crystal purifies them from Metalia's control, it is Mamoru *cough golden crystal* who revives them in the physical form they had before being kidnapped by the dark kingdom, but depending on the level at which they remembered or fought against mental control, they retain or recover their memories. Jadeite almost had no chance to remember but that when being purified a confrontation with a Youma, Neph would first try to convince her that he doesn't owe anything to the Moon, Mako would accuse him of running away from his own duty for fear of assuming his sins. Nephrite instead of getting angry would actually accept that Mako is right. After some adventure of stellar self-discovery, she would accept her past but also her present. Only then does she manage to help Makoto, convincing her that while her mission from past lives is important, living and fulfilling her dreams from her current lives is also important. So the two decide to start their relationship from scratch, as the people they are now. Eventually they evolve into an effective battle couple.

A rivalry between Zoisite and Ami is pure gold. But once Beryl kills him, Ami would take back his stone with the excuse of "investigative purposes" but in truth she wants to get it back. She would force Usagi to launch purifying waves to his gem and would subject the two Shitennou to sessions of many questions about how they were purified and resurrected. None of this would be successful and depressed Ami would always carry it in her pocket, until Dark Endymion attracted by the energy of the stone, would unconsciously bring Zoisite back. Instead of the reunion came with hugs and kisses, which the youngest of the Shitennou expects with his girlfriend and old friends, they would tie him up to be able to discover if he is the general cheater of the dark kingdom or the knight of the golden kingdom, in the resulting analysis Ami would discover that although the silver crystal purifies them from Metalia's control, it is Mamoru *cough golden crystal* who revives them in the physical form they had before being kidnapped by the dark kingdom, but depending on the level at which they remembered or fought against mental control, they retain or recover their memories. Jadeite almost had no chance to remember but that when being purified was suffering from amnesia. Nephrite, who was slowly starting to remember, returned with his memories of his current life before the dark realm intact. Zoisite, being the only one who remembered everything, was resurrected with all his memories from both lives. Zoi's inclusion in the group would not be desired by Rei and Mako (I'm sorry Zoi, but turning someone's grandfather into a Youma and killing someone's boyfriend were not very dear to them). But Ami, Usagi, and the other Shitennou would insist that Zoisite's bad actions were unintentional and he deserves another chance. Zoisite would enroll in the same school as Ami, buy an apartment next to Ami's (His family is from Switzerland and they are very rich), and take the same seminar as Ami. He would basically be stalking her, but Ami is so happy to have him back that she doesn't care about his clingy tendencies, in fact she would probably do the same if she weren't so shy. The influence of their friends would be needed for both of them to deal with their traumas and fears of losing the other again to solve their attachment problems. In addition, Zoisite feels very guilty for killing Nephrite, although curiously the latter does not hold a grudge against him for that, recognizing that it was truly Beryl's fault and that thanks to that he can be free. Having all his memories, Zoisite would talk to them about the past but from his perspective which is not at all favorable towards the Moon Kingdom, the girls would understand why it was so easy for Metalia to start a rebellion to destroy the Silver Millennium. He would also harass Dark Endymion with magic piano sessions to recover his memories, Dendy wants to understand his connection with Sailor Moon and Usagi, and Zoisite wants to save his lord.

As for Kunzite, he does not know why he feels so attracted to Sailor Venus. Unconsciously he is always looking for her even when he must catch the princess of the Moon. Minako tries to make him remember who he really is. On a mission to retrieve the other three generals from an ancient temple on Earth, the power of Venus, Jadeite, Nephrite, and Zoisite free him from Beryl's mind control. Sailor Moon purifies him, turning him into his pre-Dark Realm identity, a Turkish boy slightly older than Mamoru, whom Minako fell in love with during her time as Sailor V.

They all live on and are useful in the other arcs.

My outrage given voice: The Shittenou were done so dirty!

It's very damn annoying to me and I hate it! Why the hell were the Shittenou not given a chance for a 'normal' life like Usagi wished for in the 90's anime; especially with the implication of the time of the first season repeating for the second and thus meant that they hadn't been nabbed for Beryl's/Metallia's purposes? Or even in the manga/reboot rather than kept as the stones they became after their deaths?

Like, what thoughts went into that? Why were the various relationships of the Shittenou changed so drastically, and not just between each other but their Prince and their Love Interests too? Especially when Mamo got a, technically, third chance to be with Usa after the first season's finale. The girls themselves have other love interests, I know, but you'd think that they'd at least be given the option to see if they were still compatible and part (hopefully) amicably if they weren't, rather than just have the view that they'll never have love or even a family. And, no, I don't count the "Parallel" world of the manga because it seems that they're right proper clones of their mothers rather than their own persons with thoughts, feelings and dreams like Chibi is. Yes, she's annoying and a frickin' Obnoxious Brat, but at least with that we know she's not Usa's clone just with pink hair and red eyes.

I remember watching the show growing up and never, not once, thinking they used to be love interests of the Senshi during the SilMil. Just that they were at the front of the invading army once that episode aired. Not to mention how my perceptions were fucked with beforehand because two of the four were in a relationship with each other (after one of them had been 'gender-bent'. Just...why?!) and a third was romancing a side character that had disappeared after the one episode she was in during the third season. Hell, the only reason I found out Sen/Shi was a Thing was due to the internet a while after watching the 'last' (for the North America viewing audience) episode of the fourth season. That pissed me right the fuck off.

I believe that shouldn't have happened. They could've done so much foreshadowing, maybe even a bit of character development, about the tragedy that would've been the Shittenou being killed off as the season went on once the SilMil's Last Day came about.

Like, think about it.

With Jad's constant disguises and schemes, it could've been that Rei, being a trained Miko, always seemed to find and flirt with him, because he was cute no matter his disguises, and then get mad about it because why?! is it always him?! she does that with?! The fuck?! And Jad's just like, 'How the hell does she keep doing this?!' before putting together that she must be an informer to the Senshi with the way they always show up when she does so he tries to keep her distracted in one form or another so his youma can do its job because she's too passionate and fiery to want to hurt or drain despite getting in his way so much. Beryl actually kills him off after his showdown with the Senshi, not listening when he says how he knows who they are, instead of being iced for his constant failures. (I never did get why he was singled out like that.)

With Neph's civilian identity of Sanjoin Masato, instead of Naru being the 'victim' of his 'manipulations', Makoto could've been brought in earlier and get to experience being treated like the young woman she is despite how other guys were put off by her strength and stature and just discovered she could transform just as or after he died. He still dies to Zoi's schemes but it's because, due to being around his Lady so much more than Jad was with Rei, he's starting to question what once he hadn't, especially if some dormant memories he hadn't known about break loose from their shadowy bonds, and so Beryl made out that he was defecting or losing sight of their goals so she didn't have to get her hands dirty.

With Zoi, 'cause I found it real annoying that only he could extract the Nijizuishou when the Moon Wand could also track them down but not get them out, Ami could've used her palmtop to scan whatever residue might've been left on the Wand, to also help look for the Carriers as Zoi did the same with his own tracking crystal. It could go that, because she does take her duties as a Senshi seriously and she's not all about school/studying despite her grades and work ethic and she's gonna prove it, she might get in trouble for 'stalking' while Zoi's just wondering what this cute but annoying brat is doing following him where she could get hurt - the Great Demon he awoke might very well kill her! - when in all reality she's trying to get close to the Carrier but this jerk-wad with the beautiful blond waves, because those are not curls as far as I'm concerned, in a ponytail keeps getting in her way! Shenanigans are had where they try to outsmart, trick or distract each other to get to the Nijizuishou first without outing themselves or her comrades. Zoi's killed by Beryl because when Ren's revealed and Zoi takes that hit with the Ginzuishou it purified him and, like Mamo is later in the season, left weakened and considered 'delirious' by Beryl who doesn't care she'll lose another of 'her' Generals because it means she'll have enough energy to get Dymi onside and keep Kunz loyal to her and scared of the Moon Witch's power.

With Kunz, well... we all kinda-sorta saw how many times Minako seemed to fall into his traps meant to nab Usa, not to mention their own history while she was in London. And he's killed as in canon because he would not be tricked by the images and lies the Witches from the Sky tried to force into his head, an unintended side-effect of how the SilMil's Last Day was shown, especially regarding her (Venus), into betraying his Liege; completely unknowing that he, technically, already has!

[scriptmyworld]

I love how fucking dark this all is. Orym, the guard, the eternal watchdog, just watching and doing NOTHING. giving Laudna the okay to brutally kill this man who betrayed them.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Tides of fate (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which your newly returned husband is unsure of the path ahead, and the sea itself tries to deter you from the one you choose together

Warnings: evil!reader, smut (sneaky handjob in a public place, brief descriptions of p in v), probably inaccuracies of canon geography/lore to suit the fic, somewhat repentant Sauron stands a teeny tiny chance of being better but reader is an ‘I can make him worse’ kinda girl

Note: part of the evil!reader collection. If you’re new, reader has been married/soulbound to Sauron since before Adar killed him and infiltrated herself in Eregion as a smith while she waited for his return, but came to find him when his presence became strong enough through their bond again.

Mature content below the cut—minors DNI!!!

Halbrand.

Whilst the other passengers on the ship are asleep, he lies awake with his new name and his new face, heading into what is to be a new life. He has yet to decide whether it should be different from the one before, but one thing he knows beyond all certainty—you shall be by his side, body and soul, until existence itself is no more.

You lie in his arms as he sits reclined against a pile of cargo, with your head resting upon his heart. Even aslumber, you seem to cling to him, your fingers ever so slightly curled in the ragged shirt he wears. Halbrand himself refrains from tightening his hold around your waist to the point where he might wake you, and contents himself only with soft caresses of your hair as he cradles you close. Weeks after you had nursed him back to his solid form, there are still times when you feel you must convince yourselves that you are together once more, and the long wait is over.

It had taken a while for the frenzy to pass, once he had been remade. For his newly woven flesh to find relief, if only in part, from the yearning with which it burned for yours.

The first time he’d had you in this body is a blur in his mind, nothing left of it but white-hot flashes of rampant breathing, wails and growls, skin slapping against skin. No sooner had he breathed the air into his new lungs than he had claimed your mouth, fell with you to the ground on the very spot where his new feet had first touched it, and begged to have his wife. A beast rutting into his mate in the snow is what he had been reduced to. On an open trail, beneath the open sky, he had ploughed into you with wild abandon, searing the pleasure of every thrust into his soul as if it would be the last he ever tastes.

He had not known, when last you had been by his side before Adar’s betrayal, that you would be out of his reach for centuries to come, that the very memory of his beloved’s embrace would slip from his grasp with the long years, sunk into the black depths of a rudimentary shape which had forgotten what it was to feel at all. And so the moment he had at last regained a form that could, he had grasped, seized, clawed the feeling of being one with you back into himself.

And you had sunk your nails into his new flesh, christened it with scratches, marking it as yours. He remembers your tight heat, your shrill moans, your tears as you begged him for more, even after your peak. He remembers his frustrated curses when his fresh, tragically human form had softened beyond his control after spilling inside you only once, and your sweet laugh in his ear, nowhere near judgmental as you reassured him that with time, his Maia prowess shall return to spare him such tedious whims of a mortal’s flesh.

“You are still extraordinary, my love,” you had praised with an adoring nibble of his humanly round ear. “A true mortal man as starved as you would not have even made it all the way inside.”

It was, perhaps, for the best. For you might have fucked the very life out of yourself on his cock in those first few days, if not for the occasional need for respite. His partial oblivion, though nothing short of agonizing, had stripped him, at times, of the knowledge of what he was missing. Your longing for your husband had shredded your heart through every single moment of the centuries you had been apart, vivid as ever in your mind and soul. The hollow in your bond had never subsided into anything less than a freshly severed limb, forever bleeding from an open wound. The only reason you had not withered away was that last glimmer of feeling, barely there but undeniably real, that your husband had not passed beyond your reach completely and forever.

For weeks you had remained in those woods, unwilling to do anything but be together. Even if you weren’t making love, you were hardly ever not touching, and it cost you even to pry yourselves away to hunt or gather wood—an effort that much greater since his prowess did gradually return, as you had been most certain that it would.

As you lay in his arms, you spoke to him of the world, all the ways it had changed and all the ways it had not. The dealings of Elves, Dwarves and Men nowadays. The life you had secured for yourself in Eregion, the opportunities it held. A power over flesh. All it did was remind him of the last words he had spoken to Adar’s wretched Orcs before they had butchered him, and the only power he found himself craving was that of feeling your flesh, beneath, against and around his. And you were oh so willing to grant it to him.

The last night before your voyage, you had looked so beautiful, bathed in moonlight and the warm glow of the fire beside you as you rode your husband slowly, savouring every drag of his cock within you. He sat up, holding you close, watching in awe as you took what you needed, and gave him all he craved. His tears do not spill easily, but they had burned behind his eyes as you threw back your head and cried out your release, bringing forth his own. You were everything. His wife. His soul.

His Queen.

He had once sworn he would not rest until the whole of Middle-Earth had been brought to its knees to worship the pair of you, side by side. That nothing less would ever be enough.

Lying beside you by the fire, he was not so certain anymore.

“My love,” he had whispered as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair, “where do you wish to go?”

It was the first time either of you had spoken of your heading, rather than acting as though where you were now was all there was.

You had frowned ever so slightly, as though surprised he even had to ask, and murmured, “With you.”

The following morning, you began your journey. Eregion was your destination, as you had anticipated all throughout his long absence. To follow his weak presence through your bond and find him in Forodwaith, you had left your false life with the Elves claiming to be visiting distant kin. He had yet to spin a tale justifying his joining you upon your return, and he found it more difficult than usual to do so when he didn’t seem to be sure of his goal once you had reached the Elven kingdom. You noticed, of course, but kept your mind at a thoughtful distance, knowing he would speak his in his own time.

When a group of Men crossed your path, it was the first time since his return that you were in the presence of others. With the bit of shape-shifting ability received from your husband upon the forging of your bond, you had made the pointed tips of your ears recede into a round shape to match your husband’s current one. You were to pass as human travellers, unworthy of a second glance.

But an old man, whose name Halbrand had later learned to be Diarmid, halted to inform you of the danger ahead. You must have spent longer in Forodwaith than you thought, for you had not encountered the armies of Orcs described by Diarmid when you had come seeking your husband. The man had spoken of embracing the uncertain tides of fate in hopes of a brighter future—a sentiment embodied, in his view, by a piece of heraldry he wore which had belonged to kings long gone, whose mighty path had crumbled as easily as a less fortunate one might prove to lead into a better place.

This belief of the man touched something in Halbrand, birthed a dim spark of a feeling akin to hope. You, on the other hand, did not seem as affected by his words, or his warm invitation for you and your husband to join his people on their intended voyage to a new life across the sea. No sooner had he moved on than you began to scheme.

“A symbol of royalty with no one left to claim it? That might prove useful,” you said under your breath as the two of you remained standing by the passing group of Men. “We could take it, and their ship. Sail to Lindon instead of risking a run-in with Orcs on the way to Eregion. I have quite enough connections there as well.”

You didn’t need to speak the details for him to know the exact intent behind your words. He was stronger in his power now than he had been when this body was fresh, and you were a force to be reckoned with yourself. The two of you fighting as one could cut through the humans like butter, leaving only enough to man the ship to your desired destination under your forceful command. It would have been easy enough, nothing you hadn’t done before.

“Or perhaps we might sail with them,” Halbrand suggested instead, driven by a sudden impulse.

“Into the West?” you asked quizzically, trying to figure out a purpose of which he was not sure himself. “Is there something you wish to achieve in Númenor, or thereabouts?”

“What I wish,” he said, meeting your eyes, “is for you to come with me.”

Like you’d said you would.

And you did. With but a curious look and a slight furrow of your brow, you placed your hand in his and joined him on this new path, though neither of you was sure where it would lead.

After the weeks—or had it been months?—spent in a near perpetual embrace in the wilderness, the lack of privacy on the ship proved quite the challenge. For plain communication, your bond would have sufficed, but even there a certain veil of concealment had fallen between you. For the more you began to suspect where his intentions might be straying, the less eager you were to breach the subject.

But you hardly ever left one another’s side, and spent each night in the closest embrace appropriate to the rather crowded circumstances, as you are doing now. He never sleeps, and pretending to do so would be a most tedious chore for the sake of avoiding suspicion, if it weren’t for his wife nestled comfortably within his arms. Some nights, however, he finds himself too deep in troubled thoughts for his eyes to remain closed, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Nightmares again?” Diarmid questions, lifting his head from his own makeshift pillow closeby. He lowers his eyes to you as he says with a knowing lilt, “One would think such a warm embrace can bring peace to even the most troubled of minds.”

His remark lacks any trace of envy, his gaze on you admiring without coveting, and so Halbrand is not enraged by either. He looks down, his eyes following the soft trails drawn by his fingers as they caress your hair.

“She is all the peace I know,” he murmurs.

“But you are haunted still.”

His fingers halt, resting upon your head.

“I’ve done evil,” he confesses. We have done evil, would be the more truthful statement. But so charming and joyful you had made yourself appear to your fellow passengers, he would be taken for a liar. He can only imagine how loved you are in Eregion—how loved you would be anywhere.

“All of us have done things that we care not to admit,” Diarmid replies, seemingly unfazed by Halbrand’s grim admission. How naïve for a mortal man of his age, the Maia thinks, to so easily give the benefit of his doubt to a near stranger.

“Not like I have,” he presses on. What is the purpose of this conversation, he wonders? To test whether he would be cast out? To hear the man lie again, that there is another path for him than that of suffering he has known so far?

Is that a lie?

Diarmid ponders his words. “Your wife,” he says then, as if in answer to his inner musings. “How did you come to be wed?”

You had maintained that much truth in your façade, for obvious reasons. It is a piece of truth Halbrand reveals now as well.

“We were undone,” he says in a dark rasp, “and we remade ourselves by swallowing each other whole.”

A hoarse chuckle escapes the old man. “What a way you have with words, lad. Isn’t that a most dreary manner of saying you have healed one another?” When Halbrand looks at him, guarded, he thankfully knows better than to insist upon the details. “And she knows of this... evil you say you have done?”

Halbrand gives a nod.

“And yet,” Diarmid says, voice softening with a kind of wise tenderness, “she looks at you as though you hold the very sun above her head in the palm of your hand.”

A most uninspired metaphor. Sunlight had become too bright for your eyes, after years spent in the dark heat of Morgoth’s fortress. You do not thrive in it, but rather under grey skies, with cold air caressing your cheeks. But the sentiment he means to express is perfectly true.

“And it is plain to see,” Diarmid adds, “that you love her a great deal as well.”

There is not a single false word in that sentence. You give the lightest stir in your husband’s arms, softly nuzzling his shirt in your sleep, and Halbrand, Sauron, Mairon—everything and everyone he had ever been burns with adoration as he holds you just that little bit closer.

“You cannot imagine,” he murmurs, with nearly as raw a sincerity as only you can draw from him.

Diarmid laughs warmly. “Oh, I can, lad,” he says with a trace of wistfulness. “I can.”

His eyes drift to the distance, as he no doubt remembers some past love of his. And a great one it may have been, but he shall never know what it is to bind his very soul with another’s, to be so inextricably intertwined as the pair of you have made yourselves to be.

Halbrand says nothing, leaving the old man to his imaginings. But Diarmid soon returns from them, and gives his supposed younger a sage look.

“So, you see,” he goes on, “whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it. Now, you must find forgiveness within yourself. You are alive, holding the woman you love in your arms, because you have chosen good.”

“What of tomorrow?” Halbrand asks, almost a challenge.

“You have to choose it again.” Diarmid gives a small chuckle, as though the answer is most obvious. “And the next day, and the next, until it becomes a part of your nature.”

His nature. Good had been his nature. Once.

He wonders, had you met him as Mairon, whether your souls would still be as one now. Whether you might have lived as Melian and Thingol did, rulers over a kingdom of light, protectors against Morgoth’s darkness rather than partial cause of its spread.

But it feels like a betrayal to imagine a love any different than the one he has known with you, even if it’s still a version of you with whom he contemplates such a thing. Because in the end, it would not be you. Morgoth had stripped you of the Elf you had been as brutally as he had disposed of the once Mairon, though with the Maia, he had made the pain seem so much sweeter in the beginning. You had not fallen in love with songs and poems, with you dancing in a field of flowers and him finding himself struck dumb by your beauty. Your bond had been forged in the hottest and cruellest of flames, and was all the stronger for it. This all-consuming passion, this ruthless obsession of yours, which scorches everything and everyone in its path—nothing less would ever suffice.

Seeing that Halbrand has become lost in thought upon hearing his words, Diarmid gives him one last friendly smile and pat upon his shoulder, then turns away to settle back to sleep. Not long after, quiet snores begin to leave him.

That is when you give a light hum, and shift so that your cheek rests on your husband’s shoulder and your eyes meet.

“What a way you have with words, lad,” you tease softly.

The slightest smile tugs at Halbrand’s lips. “It isn’t proper to eavesdrop.”

“It seemed as though you were having a moment.” Your teasing smile dims as you add, even more quietly, “It seemed as though you wanted it.”

You bring your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb through the light stubble that now adorns it. You seem to like this form of his, imperfectly human as it is, and nothing pleases him quite like pleasing you. His eyes fall shut as he leans into your touch, taking your wrist in a gentle hold and pressing his lips to the palm of your beloved hand.

“My love...” he begins, but you rest your fingertips upon his mouth.

“I know.” You sigh, letting your hand fall back to his chest. “I know. You’ve been... different, since you have returned. Not only in body. After all this time, what you have endured... I know you are faltering. That you lack direction.”

“And yet you followed me blindly.”

“Always,” you smile, though it’s short-lived. “But... if forgiveness is what you seek... from them...” Your brow creases, voice becoming pained as you lift your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze properly. “My love, we have been here once before.”

“I know,” he says firmly, wrapping your hand in his. “I would not take such a risk again.”

Like he did at the end of the First Age. When, in the wake of Morgoth’s defeat, he’d had a mind to seek pardon from the Valar rather than await their retribution. He had witnessed their might as they decimated his master’s dark forces, and Sauron himself now lacked an army with which to retaliate, should they seek him out. All he had was you, and in his wish to keep you, and in the haze of his new-found freedom from Morgoth’s clenched fist, he had entertained the thought that perhaps the Valar might consider your union, a defiance of Morgoth in itself, to be proof of your renouncing his authority even since before his defeat. Surely, they could be persuaded that all, or at least most of your vile deeds, had been for the sake of each other, to spare your beloved from Morgoth’s wrath. And to a certain extent, it was true.

But the opposite happened. The Valar had deemed your bond unnatural, volatile, forged in too deep a darkness to be anything but a force of destruction. If you truly wished to be pardoned, you were to allow it to be undone. He was to return to Valinor whilst you remained in Middle-Earth, serving to rebuild what Morgoth had destroyed until you had proven beyond doubt you had put your foul ways behind you. Only then would you be allowed passage into the West to be rejoined with your husband, should your love endure such prolonged distance and transformation from the beings you had been when you met.

Servitude would already have been nigh impossible to swallow. But separation—that was unfathomable. It was cruelty beyond imagining, from beings who had the audacity to claim they were righteous and fair. You and your husband had been left with no choice, then, but to seek out a power which would make you gods in your own right. Power over flesh, power over Middle-Earth.

Separation came anyway, only in a different form, the path you had most wanted to evade forced upon you by Adar’s treachery instead of the Valar’s so-called justice. But as great a blow as it might have been, the aftershocks of it spanning over so much time, it didn’t break either of you beyond repair. As Sauron, he has known many setbacks, failures, betrayals. He is not afraid. Even when he sought pardon before, he tells himself, he was being cautious, practical.

But he is, perhaps... tired. So tired.

“You told me you have no wish to return to your life with the Elves,” he breaks the silence you had let fall between you, patiently awaiting the further words you sensed he had to say. “Númenor is said to be a paradise, ripe with opportunity. A smith of great skill and his equally gifted wife are most likely to thrive in such a place.”

Though he speaks in statements, you hear the question they conceal. You had long suspected he had been harbouring such thoughts, and your eyes shift uneasily upon hearing them.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it,” you confess in the end. “That perhaps we might simply... be together, as so many others are, and that would be enough. But even if we could find it in ourselves to put Middle-Earth behind us and let Adar go unpunished for what he did...” Your hand grips his painfully as you shut your eyes for a moment, striving not to raise your voice above a tense whisper. “I cannot bear to live in fear any longer. Wondering whether or not the Valar will finally deem us worthy or harmless enough to leave us be. Seeking to appease a higher power whose breath is constantly at the back of my neck even when I cannot see it, like... like he was. Is that not why we put such thoughts aside before, and sought to claim the power that we did? To gain control, bring about a new order—our order?” You lean in closer, the despair in your eyes giving way to determination as you stare into his with each and every searing word. “You know we are meant to be more than this. The Valar may not favour us, but fate does. It’s why our paths crossed in the first place, and why we found our way back to each other time and again, despite Morgoth, and Adar, and all who would have seen us apart. It’s why we will prevail.”

It’s so taxing, keeping the intensity of your words’ sentiment quiet, that the release comes in the form of tears slipping from your eyes. Your husband’s brow creases, leaving your hand to lie upon his quickening heart as he cups both of your cheeks.

“All this time...” he whispers, thumbs brushing your tears like they are priceless gems, “all these centuries, you have kept your faith in our vision. In us.”

He knows all too well how strong you are, how ruthless in your resolve, but sometimes, the sheer might of your devotion to him still knocks the breath from his lungs.

A teary chuckle escapes you. “Had you not spent all those centuries as a barely sentient liquid, I’m sure you’d have done the same. Not to mention,” you add, seeking to lighten the mood with a touch of coyness, “you promised me a crown, my love. And I shall not let you rest until you have put it upon my head, and I have known what it is to be a true Queen, worshipped by all beings,” you lean so that your lips ghost over his as you whisper alluringly, “and by her King most ardently of all.”

He gives in with a subdued groan, catches your lips in a fleeting kiss—then presses a thumb to the soft flesh beneath your chin to better his hold on you and keep you at bay.

“My love,” he rasps out in warning, eyes roving over your face, “do not tempt me so when I cannot have you as I please.”

A wicked smile spreads across your lips, and your softly-spoken words are the sweetest siren song, calling him to his doom. “You can have me, my love. We can have anything we wish.” Your hand begins a most audacious journey down his chest and along his tensing stomach, disappearing beneath the blanket covering the both of you above the waist. “They are nothing,” you go on, nimbly working open his trousers. “What they see, what they think of us now, will be nothing once we have brought them under our rule.”

Even with the blanket covering you, if someone were to look closely, they would likely be able to discern the precise location and intent of your hand. Quite frankly, Halbrand cannot bring himself to care if they did notice either, not when his wife takes his flesh in a nearly cruel grip. His cock grows and hardens in helpless answer to your beckoning, and this, he thinks for the one thousandth time, is the sole kind of helplessness which sets his blood aboil with desire rather than rage. It takes but a few strokes, dry and curt, and he is swollen, aching, the veins in his neck straining as he bites back a growl.

As for you, it’s a struggle not to rub yourself against his leg like a warg in heat. But it is his pleasure you wish to achieve, not your own. You press your lips to those captivating lines of tension on his neck, and swipe a thumb over the tip of him to find it wet. He remains discreet in sound, if not in expression, but you feel the spike of his pleasure through your bond as you keep caressing that most sensitive part of his cock. All of a sudden, his hand is at the back of your neck, and he pulls you down so that your cheek is pushed into his chest, his chin resting the slightest bit too heavily upon your head. Like this, you feel his rampant heartbeat, his ragged breathing, the tremors you send throughout his body with each and every stroke of his length.

It’s an illusion of control, he knows, crushing you to his chest whilst the heart within it contorts and threatens to unspool back into a pile of black slime, taken apart by your words and touch. He lets you break from his hold the moment you rebel out of it, and plant your chin upon his shoulder.

“I kept my faith, because I could see us,” you whisper, your hot breath in his ear plunging straight to his cock as you pump him into a silent frenzy. “I can see what we will become, and it is so... so beautiful. Do you see us, love?” you all but whimper, as though your words alone bring you as much pleasure as the glide of his length within your fist does him. “Can you see your Queen, spread upon our throne... wearing nothing but the jewels you have given me and the crown upon my head... as your tongue swears fealty between my legs? Can you see me do the same, on my knees before my Lord and King?”

Oh, he can. So many times he’s had you, in so many ways, but the thought of you worshipping each other whilst you are being worshipped across all of Middle-Earth, taking pleasure in one another as well as the symbols of your power... That had always wrought a particular kind of havoc upon his loins, proportionate in might to the high brought by the prospect of victory in itself. And you know that damn well, as well as all the right ways to caress and graze and squeeze and knead to play his body like a harp into the very melody you wish to elicit, regardless of the form he takes, for you might as well be nestled beneath his skin, living and breathing among the strings you so deftly pluck with your ruinous fingertips. Your touch, your words, moulding his mind as you please—is this what one feels like, he wonders, when Sauron the Deceiver slithers his way into their unsuspecting thoughts?

But this is no deceit. This is his wife, his soul, reminding him of his true self, just as you did when you first found what had been left of him in Forodwaith, and put him back together. His hips jerk into the movements of your hand, seeking you out, uncaring of the people who might wake and see him being undone by your touch. You are right. They are nothing. You are all there is, and all there ever shall be.

You chuckle as he chases his breath, and bite his earlobe—hard. It may not be the sensitive tip of an Elf’s pointed ear, but the jolt of pain lights a fire beneath his skin that scorches everything in its path, and no amount of control over his form could have prevented him from spilling his seed right there and then. The growl he lets loose would have surely roused those sleeping closest by, if not for your sudden grip on his throat and lips covering his, swallowing his rough breaths. He spills and spills as you stroke him through his release, until the exquisite throbbing in his cock has finally run its most fulfilling course.

To think there was a time he knew not what it was to crave another, nor did he care to know—and then he had known you. The pleasure of his flesh might as well have your initials engraved into it.

You loosen your grip on his throat as you break the kiss, and that hand goes instead to tenderly brush a lock of dark hair from his temple. You seem awfully pleased with yourself when he opens his eyes into yours, and he doesn’t shy away from admitting that you very well should be. The hand with which you had pleasured him emerges from beneath the blanket with his spent glistening on your fingers, and you hold his gaze as you rest the digits on his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue darts out slightly, tasting what you have done to him. What you always do. He wraps his lips around your fingers, scrapes them lightly with his teeth, and something softens in your eyes.

“I want more,” you whisper, nothing short of a goddess reduced to her most vulnerable self. “I want everything. But I need only for you to want me.”

His new heart lurched in his chest. As if he could ever stop. As if there could ever be more, be anything, if there was no you and him.

He knows much better than to take your words as an admittance of defeat, however. If he truly were to demand that you renounce your aspirations, you would be furious. You would fight and fuck him in every way you could think of to change his mind, but you would follow him wherever he went. As he would you. There is no such thing as choosing to leave one another’s side, unless you have reason to believe that your temporary separation shall serve to make you all the more fruitful in your shared endeavours upon your reunion.

Your shared endeavours is what they still are. What they always have been. He sees that now, clearer than ever.

Having released your fingers, his mouth claims yours in a bruising kiss. You moan into it, too loud, too desperate, but neither of you cares. He truly abandons all caution, pulling you into his lap by your waist, and you grind your clothed core into his newly hardening cock as soon as you are astride him, and damn these people, damn your ruse, he is going to have you, fully and unrestrained, right here in their midst. It matters not, for most will be dead soon either way. For you will take the ship for yourselves, just like you first suggested, and sail back to Middle-Earth to claim it as your own. And he means to tell you this whilst you ride him, just as you are reaching your peak, and send you careening into it with this sweetest promise like you had done him—

Something’s wrong. Even in the heat of passion he feels it, and every muscle in his body stiffens. You break away at once, alarmed by his alarm.

“Hold on to me,” is all the warning he has time to give you.

Not a soul on the ship remains asleep when it takes the first hit, water flooding into the hull through shattered wood. It’s everywhere, bursting through holes in the walls and pouring down the stairs from the deck, and you barely manage to scramble to your feet before the next blow lands, and the next. You do try to keep your grip on each other, but end up bracing yourselves against the pile of cargo on which you had been resting so you don’t get knocked off your feet. At the very least, he manages to hastily refasten his trousers. Not that anyone would care if they caught a glimpse of a man’s privates at a time like this—but in his flailing circumstances, it isn’t quite the power move it would have been if he were shamelessly buried to the hilt inside you for all to see.

“Was that—?”

“Yes,” he answers you gruffly. “Sea worm.”

“Is that a problem?” you ask urgently, ever so pragmatic even as your chest heaves through the sudden panic.

He isn’t sure. He feels recovered enough, but he can’t say whether his ability to sway the creature’s mind is good as new until he’s come face to face with it. He’s about to go and find out, when a voice screams, “Help me!”

It’s Diarmid who cried out, trapped beneath a wooden beam that had collapsed upon him. Bleeding from a head wound, he looks to Halbrand in despair. No one else even stops to look, the other passengers scurrying around in a frenzy, as if there is anywhere to run.

Halbrand and you make no move. Your gazes meet as you wait with bated breath for his choice, even in the midst of chaos.

Whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it.

If anything, you should forgive him for ever faltering in his resolve. There is no such thing as a man called Halbrand, or as you and him disappearing in the crowd. You shall be everywhere, standing above everything and everyone, as you were always meant to.

He leans over Diarmid, grabbing hold of the fallen beam atop him—only to snatch the pouch bearing a king’s symbol from his neck, the Maia’s pitiless eyes staring into the man’s terrified ones. He turns to the beautiful sight of your smile, proud and relieved, and a smirk blooms on his own lips. Screams fill the ship as it is ripped to shreds, but you put your hand in his and pull him towards the deck with an exhilarated “Come on!”, and for a moment he suspects this feeling in his chest might be akin to what a young man would experience, if he were being whisked into the unknown by a rebellious first love.

And like the folly of such youth, it doesn’t last. Your hand slips from his as the ship falls apart, swallowed whole by the ocean, and he is submerged into an underwater field of shattered woods and floating bodies. He has lost you from his sight, but he knows you’re alive. He knows he is still lord over beasts as well, when the sea worm obeys the command in his eyes and abandons its attack, swimming away. Perhaps the effort of imposing his will on such a great creature is still too taxing. Perhaps that’s why the pulse of your life is as vivid as ever within your bond, but feels further away. The water is dark, and you are strong—he feels is. You are soon to surface.

But when he emerges from the sea, grabbing hold of a floating piece of wood, you are nowhere in sight.

He waits. Waits, then dives back in.

The bodies he finds are all corpses.

You are alive.

But you are gone.

His scream is lost in the black depths of the sea.

*****

As soon as you break through the surface, gasping for air, you know something is terribly amiss.

For one, there is no one in sight. No ship, no people, no sea worm. Then, there is the rising sun, when moments ago it had been little past midnight, and land in sight when you had been most certain you were in the middle of the sea. And most poignant of all, there is distance—great and sudden, between you and your husband.

He is well, though, and even more so now that he has felt you reaching out to him. The spark of relief echoing through your bond is the only reason you do not immediately despair. You have an inkling of what might have occurred. But you save your energy for swimming towards the distant shore, channeling your ire into each kick of the water.

How do the Valar expect you to renounce your bitterness towards them, when they do their very best to fuel it with every given occasion?

*****

He breathes easy at last. He had known you were alive all along, but the gnawing emptiness where your consciousness should have been had not ceased to churn within his chest until he’d felt you, aware and present in your bond once more.

For you to have drifted away, so quickly and so far... it was no natural occurrence.

There’s a presence he’d felt. A watching. Sickly familiar, and he knows not how, but—they knew. Perhaps you had invoked them one too many times, and Ulmo himself had reached out with a watery tendril of his power to snatch you from your husband’s reach. Whether in punishment or warning, it matters not. For in his haste to part you, the Vala had failed to prevent a great opportunity from landing right into his great enemy’s lap—or rather, swimming her way onto his raft.

Galadriel.

He knows her name. How could he not? Sister of Finrod, daughter of Finarfin. A mighty Elven warrior, hailed as the fairest of Elven women, the very light of the Trees of Valinor supposedly snared in her tresses. It’s hard to tell, with her golden hair soaked and clinging to her shoulders. But her beauty concerns him little. Once he has taken Middle-Earth, he thinks, he shall have the tongue of any being who dares suggest another might be fairer than his Queen.

You’ve reached the shore, he senses, back in Middle-Earth. To Galadriel, he speaks half-truths of hateful Orcs that chased him from his homeland, but within himself, he smiles. So, they dare not kill you, still, especially after they were proven right to hesitate in doing so before—when the Orcs had robbed him of his form, his power had burst from the remains of him with such anguished fury, Forodwaith had been reduced to an icy wasteland. Should your bond be severed as violently, there is no telling what horrors that gaping wound might unleash. The Valar have revealed their fear once more, and it serves to remind him why the two of you have nothing to fear.

You were right, my love, he thinks. The message may not reach you word for word, but he knows it will be crystal clear in your mind. Though some may seek to part us, the tides of fate are flowing ever in our favour. Make for Eregion. Await me there. I shall return to you soon, having made great progress towards our end.

From you, there comes the anger and the grief of your parting, which he shares—but stronger than that is your faith in him, further solidified by his determination.

“Around your neck,” Galadriel says. “Is that the mark of your people’s king?”

She had noticed, then. He’d been careful to fiddle with it earlier, tucking it into his shirt when she thought he hadn’t seen her scrutinizing him. You had been right, of course—that pouch would prove useful, after all.

Thank you, my love, he thinks fondly to you. For reminding me who I am. Who we are.

Your devotion caresses his soul, and the Deceiver begins to worm his way into an unsuspecting mind once more.

Previous fic with same reader -> Remade

Next fic with same reader -> Reunion

[roseroro]

Autonomy / choices in Mouthwashing…

I’ve only played the game once this very morning but goddamn the THOUGHTS. Will replay for more insight now that I know what it’s all about. In the meantime:

Daisuke, the young last-minute intern. From beginning to end, his autonomy is non-existent. He didn’t sign up to be on the Tulpar, his mother did it so he’d stop “slacking”. Under Swansea’s supervision, he can’t make his own choices, and instead spends his time on pointless repetitive tasks that don’t give him opportunities for mistakes. (Mistakes being the only example of him having a shred of autonomy, when he ends up stuck in foam… he’s doing his best I promise 😭). Then, when Anya locks herself in medical, Jimmy orders him to deceive Swansea then to go into the vent. Even his (merciful) death is someone else’s choice, Swansea’s (who swings the axe) and Jimmy’s (who brought him to that point).

Curly, the captain. Originally in a position of relative power (still under Pony Express), Jimmy strips him of everything and frames him for the mess he created. Curly is left unable to do anything but lie there and let others decide what he needs, what he wants, what he feels… what he did. No longer truly seen as human, his two perceived states are (irritating, noisy) pain and (accomodating) silence - silence achieved through force, shoving painkillers down his throat. He can do nothing but witness the events, yet he survives to the end. Unable to get in Jimmy’s way in his state, he becomes his puppet, the conduit for Jimmy’s delusion about being the hero and fixing things. His life is Jimmy’s choice.

Anya, the nurse and only woman on the ship. Belittled, abused, and raped by Jimmy and pregnant from it, her bodily autonomy is taken from her. After the crash, she’s left to care for Curly (who was supposed to take care of her before the crash, but didn’t despite his promises), who’s also lost his bodily autonomy, but she can’t bring herself to, well, force painkillers down his throat. The parallel to her own suffering too vivid. She chooses her death as a last attempt at regaining agency over her life (and, of course, makes that choice next to Curly), but Jimmy ultimately forced that choice on her, as he did with the others.

Swansea, the grumpy old man with a heart. As Daisuke’s supervisor, he steals part of his autonomy - but unlike Jimmy, he does so with Daisuke’s best interests in mind. He’s a protector, not an abuser. He also protects the sole working cryogenic pod from Jimmy - not for himself, as Jimmy believes, but most likely for his protégé. That choice is taken from him by Jimmy, who uses his alcoholism against him. In the end, Swansea is the only one who is able to truly fight back. Unfortunately, Jimmy is in possession of the strongest authority tool there is - a gun. The gun that the powers that be, Pony Express, placed there from the beginning to deal with eventual mutinies. Swansea never had a chance or a choice in the face of such powers.

Jimmy, the abuser. At the risk of repeating myself, he abuses everyone on the ship, he craves control and authority, he uses people’s weaknesses to obtain what he wants. He ends up as the only person in a position where he can make choices at all. He chooses how he lives and how he dies, he thinks he’s the hero of the story. The second he thinks his freedom is about to be taken from him (when he is about to lose his job and have a child with the woman he raped), he snaps and takes everyone’s fate into his own hands, he would rather kill everyone including himself than lose control. Obsessed with taking responsibility, never actually doing it.

Screaming crying chewing on drywall how can a 2h30 long game have so much in it there’s SO MUCH TO SAY

[a-lady-in-shining-armour]

It’s so so common for abusive men to commit suicide to either escape consequences or punish their victims for speaking up. I know two people (one a mother in her 30s and the other a teenager) who had boyfriends who threatened to kill themselves if she left him. One actually followed through but survived and while in hospital told everyone it was her fault- she was 16 and had just scraped together the courage to break up with her first boyfriend because he was so controlling and then his friends and family turned on her. One of the first rules of misogyny is everything men do is a women’s fault somehow. His victim (who met him when she was 15 btw) now has a comment section full of his fans blaming her for his death because if only she’s kept her mouth shut about him attacking her with an axe his son would have a violent misogynistic father still in his life 😢.

In conclusion; threatening, attempting, and actually committing suicide are common behaviours from abusive/controlling men as an attempt to avoid the justice system or to regain control over the narrative. Just something to keep in mind.

im gonna say it. i think it’s one thing to make destiel memes about the queen dying or whatever. and i think it’s completely different to meme the tragic accidental death of a 31 year old who never particularly did anything wrong. please do some introspection rn.

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ she said, ‘fuck me like i’m famous.’ i said, ‘okay.’⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH—i have thoughts about brothers best friend!luke

tags/warnings: luke x fem!reader, loser!luke, protective!brother, unnamed brother, secret relationship, outside of chb, reader is drunk/drinking, reader is mentioned to be younger, suggestive content at the end/nearing smut, not proofread.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ is this fandom dead or what. also i was mad insane for writing the ending to this LMFAOO DONT SMOKE WEED OR THIS IS THE OUTCOME‼️

—brother best friend!luke who was told to stay away from you.

“dude, seriously. stop staring—that’s my little sister.”

“i’m not staring. don’t make it weird.”

luke muttered, lying straight out of his teeth. he clicked his tongue as he crossed his arms, rolling his shoulders.

his eyes were locked onto you as you rushed around the living room, rushing down the halls. you struggled to put on this earring, lips in a straight line before groaning in annoyance.

you looked gorgeous. you were getting ready for god knows what, but luke didn’t need to know to know that you were the type of girl guys like him would kill for.

you noticed his staring and waved quickly, rushing back into your room. he had only a second to wave back. luke tried to make it subtle—but he clearly didn’t try hard enough.

“what did i just say, man?”

“can i not wave to your sister?”

“no.”

your brother snapped before closing his door, throwing the play station controller toward luke, maybe a little harder than he should’ve.

—brothers best friend!luke who does anything to have some alone time with you.

he seen you walk past your brothers room late at night, using your phone flashlight to navigate through the hallway. your brother was asleep on the bean bag chair, the tv remote loosely in his grip.

luke figured you were going to the kitchen, so he obviously followed. he hugged the wall, the kitchen illuminating from the fridge light.

“hey.”

“holy fuck, luke!”

you shout-whispered after jumping. he didn’t mean to scare you—but it sure was funny. he chuckled quietly as he leaned onto the counter, tilting his head. you had a soda in your hand, a piece of bread in your mouth.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

“aw, ‘m sorry.”

“no you ain’t.”

you narrowed your eyes to him, pinching your brows together. a snicker left your throat as you seen luke shrug, chuckling as he tightened his lips.

“yeah. you’re right.”

he admitted with no issue, seemingly taking pride in it. luke adjusted his position, towering over you as he stood with his arms crossed.

“so…what’re you doing up this late, hm?”

“what are you doing up this late? shouldn’t you and my brother be doing whatever stupid stuff you two do?”

“touché. but no—he’s asleep.”

“you poor thing.”

you muttered before turning on your heel, walking toward your room, leaving luke in the dark. he exhaled, his shoulders dropping as he waited an extra minute at hearing you slowly close your door.

luke ran his fingers through his hair, his hands on the counter as he tried to regain his posture.

“fuck.”

he mumbled to himself, trying to get the flush off his face as he went back to how you looked in those shorts and tank top.

—brother’s best friend!luke who takes care of you when you got a little too drunk at a party.

“c’mon, hold my hand.”

“take me out to dinner first, luke.”

you slurred out your words, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his, looking up at him. you looked up at him while fluttering your lashes, lips slightly separated.

if you weren’t drunk, luke would’ve kissed you right then and there.

“i’m taking you home.”

“awh…”

you dragged out, pouting as you stumbled over your own two feet. luke instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you. even though you paid no mind to it—luke’s ears were burning hot and his face was bright red.

he leaned you onto his car as he opened the passenger door, guiding you to sit down with an arm still around you.

luke quickly tried to start the car, trying to avoid eye contact with you before he felt you kiss his cheek. you giggled before humming,

“thank you, luke. you’re so sweet, and cute, and smart, and…uhm.”

“mhm. you’re very welcome.”

he mumbled, his voice cracking. luke’s eyebrows knitted together as you giggled again.

“you’re too good f’my brother. god—why do you hang out with him more than me? what does he have that i don’t?”

you pouted, lips twitching as you tugged on his sweatshirt’s sleeve. luke reached out, patting your head as he kept his eyes forward.

“i, uhm—i don’t know.”

“exactly! spend more time with me. please, luke?”

you pleaded, slurring your words once again. luke gulped before nodding, all of his self respect gone. if the girl of his dreams was asking him, luke castellan, to spend time with her—he can’t decline.

—brother’s best friend!luke who can’t seem to keep a secret that well.

“luke, my brother’s in the next room.”

you complained between kisses, luke pressing up against you. his hands were gripping your hips, the mattress below you two squeaking as he pushed you down against it.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. you just,”

luke paused, letting out a quiet whimper before finishing his sentence.

“you looked so good. i couldn’t help myself. i’m sorry, baby.”

you chuckled at hearing his continuous apologies. luke felt you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“gods, you’re so good to me, y/n.”

he whined, cupping your cheeks with a knee between your legs. luke hooked a finger around the waistband of your shorts, pulling away. he looked at you with pleading eyes, shifting down toward your shorts and back up at you.

“yeah. you can.”

with the given permission, he wasted noses time pulling them down your legs. luke kissed your cheek, trailing down to your collarbone.

“so good—too good f’me.”

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 11

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: please forgive me for taking so long to post the next part, I took a little holiday and inspiration seemed to take a break from me 🤭 but here it is, yes I know it was slow burn… but will things change from now on?

“Mr. Shelby, you can’t go in there.” A man wearing a white robe stopped him.

Tommy looked down at the man’s hand, so close to his chest blocking him further access but not touching him yet.

“The fuc-“ Tommy was ready to start a fight, but Polly’s arm blocked him.

“Thomas, come with me.” She instructed firmly. “Let them take care of her.”

Reluctantly, he walked along the hall, dragging his feet with his head hanging low. Feeling so lost, helpless.

For a brief instant his eyes fixed on Y/N’s grandma and he froze. What was he supposed to tell her? He had failed her, he didn’t take care of Y/N and now her and the baby’s life were at risk.

“What happened?” It was Y/N’s mother voice, as she entered the hospital waiting room, she was wearing her nightgown with a coat on top of it.

Y/N’s grandma was about to explain her when she found Tommy’s eyes fixed on her.

“You.” She spat and launched at him directly, not caring that she was in a hospital.

Tommy lost his balance for a brief instant and he was forced to take a step back while Y/N’s mother discharged all her fury against him.

“You’ll be responsible if anything bad happens to Y/N.”

A nurse tried to grab her arms, Polly somehow managed to get in the middle too… all while Tommy saw red.

“Now it’s my fault eh?! Where were you when she begged for help? What did you do?” His rose his voice, losing control so fast as his heart pounded in his chest.

He rarely allowed any emotions show, but he couldn’t stop himself right there.

Of course he already felt guilty and regretted risking Y/N’s life, but the last thing he needed now was having her mother blaming him.

Someone in the room demanded silence and ordered only family members could stay. Tommy couldn’t take it anymore and he stormed off, walking along the corridor his firm steps could be heard in the distance.

It was pouring raining again but as he looked down, he noticed the blood that had dried in his hands and shirt. Y/N’s blood. In a split second, he was emptying the content of his stomach into the bushes, the realization hitting him hard.

Someone tried to kill him that night and unfortunately Y/N got the bullet instead. His ears were ringing non stop.

And for the first time in a very long time, he felt scared. Terrified, actually that something terrible could happen to Y/N and her baby. He should be the one getting shot, not her.

Straightening his back, he noticed Y/N’s grandma was standing there, waiting for him.

(End of flashback)

He snapped back into reality as Polly placed her hand on his shoulder. It had only been a minute or two since he shouted at John for questioning his orders and he was doing his best to regain composure, he felt frustrated and so angry with himself and deep down he knew he wasn’t at his best snapping at everyone at the slightest thing. Memories of what happened that night still haunting him day and night, if he could, he would have switched places with Y/N in a heartbeat.

He needed them to do what was on their lists.

“I’m going to the hospital, if something comes up-“

Tommy began to say, but his aunt interrupted him. “Go, go I’ll take care of everything.”

Polly fixed her eyes on her nephew, the explosive anger scene that unfolded with John a moment ago and had Tommy flustered and shouting was now gone, instead she could only see a defeated man. Guilt was eating him alive.

The fact that he was leaving his siblings to take care of the business was reason enough for her to worry about him, he never allowed anyone to lead the company.

As she watched him walk towards the door, she noticed his posture, it was nothing she had seen before… hunched shoulders, head low, the weight of the world enveloping him like a blanket. She knew he felt responsible, it didn’t matter how many times someone told him it wasn’t his fault.

She wondered for how long he’d be gone at night only to come back in the morning with his horse, then he’d go to the hospital most part of the day to follow the same routine.

Tommy walked through the cold hallway, straight to Y/N’s room not stopping to be escorted by a nurse, he was paying a huge amount of money to give her the best treatments, the best staff to stop and sign a visitor’s record.

Tommy stopped abruptly at the sight of Y/N lying in the hospital bed covered by a white sheet and the constant beeping of the machines she was connected to. His heart sank to the floor but a nurse interrupted his newest guilt road.

How unfair it was. There he was standing healthy, considering all of the shit he had done… not like Y/N, she was a great woman, strong, brave, sweet and funny, whose only mistake was giving herself to the wrong man. And she was the one with a bullet battling between life and death.

“Her mother just left a moment ago.” She informed him.

They still were in a rocky path since they arrived at the hospital, Y/N’s mother was naturally concerned about her daughter and even though she obviously blamed him, she was also thankful that Ada donated blood for the transfusion they needed since Y/N had lost so much blood.

He didn’t give the nurse a reaction, he just dragged his feet to stand closer to Y/N’s bed and waited until they were left alone.

“You’ve to wake up, so you can leave this place.” He pleaded in a whisper. “You’ve to be alright for your baby.”

Tommy didn’t notice the tears until they fell on his hands. Tentatively he reached out to touch her arm. “Please… If I could, I’d take your place.”

Y/N’s diagnose was still reserved, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding but couldn’t take the bullet out due to her pregnancy, they said it was a very high risk.

Her brain was swollen and they needed it to come down to evaluate the damage. A Doctor informed him that Y/N’s health wasn’t improving as he expected, they were waiting for her to react and wake up, but seeing her there was devastating enough. Tommy tried to encourage himself thinking that at least she wasn’t getting worse. That had to mean something.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

What was he supposed to do?

What was he supposed to say?

Gently, he took her hand in his. And for the first time, he felt his words were genuine, right from the heart.

“Y/N… I can’t lose you.”

His heart started beating faster inside his chest. It was all so clear now.

After spending the last couple of nights outside by himself next to the river, the thought had been running in his mind since he realized there was a possibility that Y/N couldn’t make it.

Because when you’re face to face with death, the deepest fears and feelings come to the surface to explode you right in the face.

Tommy didn’t know how or when it happened, but he was sure that he had feelings for Y/N.

There, he had admitted it to himself. Taking a shaky breath, his eyes moved from her hand to her face feeling terrified of her finding out the truth. But he only found her with her eyes closed.

“I need to know if I’m going crazy or if this is a one way feeling, Y/N.” He pleaded in a whisper. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his thumb started caressing her skin. “I think I couldn’t see it earlier because we see each other daily, and to be honest I don’t know how it happened… but when you were shot, all of these little moments we’ve had flashed through my eyes. And it was hard to admit at first because, well you know me.” He frowned and chuckled at his own words. “From all the people, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tommy wondered why he was so fucking blind, Y/N had always been there right in front of him. How come he didn’t realize before?

For a few seconds, the only sound came from the machine connected to Y/N, beeping.

But deep down, he thought that maybe he had sabotaged himself to protect her, after all if he did something stupid he would lose the woman he had feelings for and his best friend.

“I guess it was a natural thing.” He continued. “We know each other so well… you know my flaws. You know me. Do y-you feel the same?” He asked feeling hopeful. “So I need you to wake up and tell me that I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner.”

His own feelings made him feel overwhelmed.

“I mean-”

“Good morning Sir.” A tall woman dressed in black with slender figure stood by the door, Tommy rushed to stand up immediately, giving his back at her, forcing himself to regain the composure and wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I took the liberty to come and see how Miss Y/L/N is doing, I heard she was shotgun.”

Tommy frowned, he couldn’t recall who this woman was.

“Who are you?” Slowly, he moved his hand towards his gun.

“I apologize, my name is Frances.” Her eyes moved towards the bed. “She gave me a place to stay, Miss Y/N helped me when a man kicked me out of my house, she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, she shared her food with me and-”

Tommy raised his hand at her, confused and taken aback for her explanation. “You’re the one staying at the Institute?”

Frances shifted her weight from one feet to another, wondering if she’d get in trouble. “Yes… goodness was I trespassing?” Worry showed in her face.

Tommy’s eyes found the ceiling, he let out a loud sigh. “No, it’s just everything makes sense now.”

Another person interrupted them, but this time it was someone who Tommy knew well. “Lee-Anne, come in.”

“Hello Tommy.” She waved. “I just came from school to see her.”

Feeling overwhelmed Tommy asked her to stay with Y/N for a moment.

“I just need to be home before noon, ‘cause my Dad is arriving from his trip.” She informed him taking his previous spot next to the bed.

Oh, her Father learning about what happened to Y/N was something he didn’t want to see.

Tommy nodded. “I’ll ask Jeremiah to drive you, he was visiting some patients.”

As Y/N’s sister gave him a nod, he fixed his eyes on Frances. “Why don’t you tell me how did you and Y/N meet?” He proposed. If it was important to Y/N and she decided to help this stranger, then it was important to him.

Frances twisted her hands, nervously. “It’s a long story…”

Tommy’s eyes darted to Y/N, who was lying on the hospital bed without moving.

“Well… I’ve time.”

****

Tommy pondered on what he was about to do. Doubt flashed before his eyes for a split second.

This was a family affair that he had nothing to do with, but he owed it to Y/N. He was doing this for her. So he took a deep breath and walked towards the small unit.

After he heard Frances story, he understood everything, he totally got why Y/N decided to help the woman and bring her to the Institute but now, he was about to fix that little issue.

“Who’s it?” A raspy voice asked from behind the door.

“Peaky Blinders. Open up.” Tommy demanded, banging the door louder.

It had been a long day and he was dealing with an internal turmoil, not in the right mood to deal with an arsehole.

A man in his underwear appeared, he smelled fusty “So you think you can just take this place and steal it from a widower huh?” Tommy grabbed the man by the neck and color abandoned his face.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

“Frances, you knew she had nobody to step up for her.”

“A- I… her husband gave me the papers to this house.” He mumbled as two women walked by staring at the scene.

“This property belongs to Frances so pick your fucking mess up and fuck off or I’ll shot your balls.” And with that, Tommy produced the weapon from its holster as a warning.

Keeping his piercing gaze on the man, Tommy saw him moving around clumsy, and nervously, once he was dressed Tommy kicked him out. “Make sure to get back the papers of the house boys.” He instructed them at the peaky men waiting outside, then walked towards one of the parked trucks to look in the passenger seat. “You can come out now, Frances.” His eyes softened. “Just got your house back.”

“Oh! Mr. Shelby how could I ever pay you back?” She was on the edge of crying. She grabbed one of his hands and was about to kiss it in an attempt to show her gratitude, but Tommy stopped her midway.

“Would you help me with the Institute? I’ll need someone trustworthy while Y/N recovers.”

Eve before he could finish his request, Frances was already nodding. “Yes, yes of course.”

As Tommy tipped his peak cap at her and was about to leave, she suggested.

“I could take care of Miss Y/N while her family switch shifts if you agree.”

And he knew in that moment that he made the right choice.

“I appreciate it.”

Now, he had to go to the gypsy camp, to see Madame Boswell. He needed to know if the sapphire was cursed, he needed answers, he needed to know if what happened was his fault.

He needed to make peace with himself.

****

The time away from everything and everyone seemed to work for him or at least he could feel the fresh air provided him some clarity… but now he was back into his routine and trouble was always around the corner.

He needed to know what advantages John and Arthur had made at the factories but first he drove straight to the hospital, to see Y/N.

Nurses and doctors gave him long glances, trying to keep a low profile. It was giving him an uneasy feeling but he kept strolling down the hall with firm steps until Y/N’s grandmother voice called for him.

“Do you‘ve a minute?”

Tommy nodded and greeted her gently. “How’s Y/N?”

“The swelling of her brain is subsiding but nothing yet.”

“And her baby?” He asked then, processing her words.

“Stable.”

Tommy’s eyes found hers and he saw something he didn’t like.

“But there’s something I must ask you.”

“Anything.” Tommy rushed to say, regretting his eagerness for a instant. She didn’t look like asking something good.

“Y/N’s parents think it’d be for the best if you stay away from her.”

“No.” Tommy’s jaw clenched instantly, his body tensed.

“Right now she isn’t in her best condition to make her own decisions… so they asked the staff to limit visits to family only.” Y/N’s grandma explained softly, she didn’t agree but it was up to the patient closest kin.

A sudden anger invaded his body, he wanted to shout and storm into her room to prove them nobody could stop him. And he knew it wasn’t Y/N’s grandmother fault either, she was just delivering a message, yet she could tell how hard it was for him so one of her hands came to rest over his closed fist and the other one on his shoulder.

“Just while Y/N recovers darling.” She offered.

Tommy was already shaking his head. “But-“

“Do it for her, I know you care about my granddaughter, just think the pain is the small price we’ve to pay.” She added softly at the same time she realized how difficult it was for him and without hesitation she welcomed him into a warm embrace they both needed in that very moment.

“I’ll keep one of my men close by and someone I trust to take care of Y/N when some of you aren’t available.”

Y/N’s grandmother nodded. “As soon as there’s something to report I’ll ask them to let you know, now if you excuse me I’ve a prayer to say.”

Tommy stood up with her and offered his arm for support, as the woman disappeared in the hallway he knew he had to leave because he wasn’t in the mood to encounter with Y/N’s parents.

Arthur looked at his brother by the corner of his eye. “Tom, why don’t we go the Garrison? Have a drink?” He tried to to sound cheerful.

“No.” Tommy answered right away.

He acted like a lion in a cage, snapping at the slightest comment, he was irritated, refused to hear anything different of his opinion, John and Michael had been on the brick of a fight because of Tommy’s attention.

Just as Arthur was about to insist once more, a knock on the door caught their attention.

“Come in.”

“Good evening, I just brought these papers Mr. Shelby, the monthly bills of the Institution.” Frances offered him the folder and immediately looked down.

He had asked for her help since she had been helping Y/N with the final touches. If she trusted Frances, then he trusted Frances as well. When she told him her story and what Y/N did to help her, Tommy understood everything and not only that, he sent

“Thank you, I’ll sign you a cheque later… would you take care of the payment? Y/N used to do it.” He sighed defeated and overwhelmed, now he was fully invested in the project Y/N was leading. So many things needed to be done, he didn’t know where to start… he went to the hospital last night but stayed across the street looking at Y/N’s window.

“The cleaning staff will start tomorrow and the carpets arrive at the end of the week.” Frances informed him solemnly, she took seriously her role and really stood up, she was so grateful with Y/N and said helping in her project was at least she could do while she got better.

“Thanks.” Tommy gave her one more nod and she excused herself to walk out of the office.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Frances offered but Tommy shook his head before taking the last sip of his second whiskey.

“She’s like a fucking soldier. Yes sir, no ma’am.” Arthur mimicked the woman, but it wasn’t fun enough to make Tommy laugh.

He just looked outside his window absently thinking of Y/N and how much he wanted her to be alright and how desperate he was to confess his feelings for her.

Again thank you so much for following this series! I hope to be back on track faster now ♥️✨

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[thinkinonsense]

Magnetic ──★ Logan Howlett x fem!oc: Chapter One

╰┈➤Summary: After years of torture, Daphne decides how she wants to spend the rest of her life; at the bottom of a lake. Out of nowhere, Logan pulls Daphne from the water and finds her help. Now they must navigate how to live with their decisions.

╰┈➤C/W: mentions of death, suicide, cursing, age gap, mild violence, issues with infertility, slight sexual themes. ᯓ★ mdni.ᐟ ᯓ★word count: 2.1k+

ᯓ★ reply to be added to the tag list <3 ᯓ★ spotify playlist link

ᯓ★ next chapter

✮⋆˙ At the bottom of the lake was cold water and silence. Years of running can bring you to the edge of a cliff. A lifetime of pain needs to be healed somehow and suddenly, life never felt so peaceful for Daphne.

Finally Free.

Until someone jumps in, wrapping his arms around her unconscious body; lifting her to the surface. Panic began to run through the man's veins as he laid her on the ground. Her heart is beating slowly which helps steady his own.

Daphne coughed up some water while blood rushed to the cut above her eyebrow. The man uses the sleeve of his brown flannel to soak up some of it.

Without a second thought, he scoops her up in his arms again; knowing exactly where he must take her.

──★

"Where did you find her, Logan?" Jean asked, watching over one of the monitors.

"Down by the lake," Logan answers, tapping his foot impatiently.

Daphne's body has barely regained consciousness before her mind starts racing as memories flood yet none of them answer her questions. Logan carefully runs his calloused fingers down her left leg, knee to ankle. 

"Charles was able to build a report on her. She's a mutant." Jean explained. "Her mutations can cause agonizing and illusionary pain, self-healing, telekinesis, and attraction control. She is quite powerful."

"Attraction control?" Logan tilts his head, never having heard of the ability. Jean bites back a smile.

"People find an attraction and gravitate towards her."

"Just sounds like an attractive woman." Logan shrugs, still not quite understanding.

"The government created her years ago; tortured and altered her as they pleased. Magneto was even after her for a while. He wanted to create a weapon out of her. She finally ran away a few months ago. I'm not sure what she was doing at the lake. Perhaps she accidentally fell in the water? I don't believe she was pushed or-"

"She was trying to kill herself," Logan states, eyes not leaving Daphne's soft features. "I saw her jump. I-I wasn't sure what she was doing at first and then..."

Jean places a hand on Logan's back, rubbing a smooth circle.

"She is going to be fine, Logan." She assures him.

He nods, trying not to worry anymore. Honestly, Logan wasn't sure why he was worried. In the past, he's felt protective over Rogue and his teammates but this woman was a stranger. It must've been due to the nature of her attempt to take her own life, he justifies.

Daphne's hair rests damp and curly against the table Logan laid her on when they arrived. On one of the monitor screens behind Logan, Jean notices a rapid change in breath, and the tables around them begin to shake. Before Logan could get his claws out, Jean and him hit the floor, groaning in pain. 

Charles had been right, the pain was agonizing. Jean felt as if someone was closing her throat; making her unable to focus and stop Daphne. Logan's pain was in his chest and abdomen. His claws break through the skin of his knuckles but he can't move.

"P-Please.." Jean begged, gasping for air. "Let us e-explain."

Reluctantly, Daphne releases them both. Logan and Jean noticed her glowing eyes as they shifted back to normal. Her top was ripped from when Logan tried to give her cpr and her pants were still soaked. She was shivering like a dog, Logan thought. Quickly, he shrugged off his flannel and offered it to her; an olive branch. Daphne knew better than to take offerings from handsome strangers. 

"Where am I?" She asked.

"Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters," Jean answers, catching her breath. "You were found unconscious at the bottom of a lake. Do you remember any of that?"

Daphne's gaze lands on the floor. She remembered all of it.

"No." She lies. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jean and he is Logan." Daphne flickers her attention to both of them as Jean continues. "Logan pulled you from the lake."

Before Jean or Logan could ask her anything else, the doors opened revealing Professor Xavier. The man in the wheelchair rolls next to the table where Daphne sits. 

"Hello, Daphne. I am Charles Xavier." The older man says to her. "Can we talk?"

"A-About?" Her voice comes out broken and shaky. 

"What were you doing at the bottom of that lake?" 

In all truth, he already knew. He could see those last moments before she jumped and he knew the pain that lived inside of her. 

"I don't know." She lies again, this time more effortlessly. "I already told them. I don't know why I am here either."

Charles was aware that it would be difficult to get her to admit why she wanted to end her life. His heart ached for her. Similar to how it did for all the other children here. Carefully, he placed a hand over her own.

"You're safe now, dear." He says. "Get some rest." 

As he turned away, he ushered Logan to follow him; leaving Daphne and Jean alone. Jean helped Daphne change into a white tank top and pajama bottoms with the school's logo on the pocket. Now, that Daphne is awake, all of the cuts and bruises that adorn her body can heal themselves. Once dressed, Jean led her to one of the empty bedrooms. As they exited, Daphne snatched the flannel left on the table.

"Some of the older children are on a mission right now but they should all be back soon for dinner." Jean's voice echoed ever so slightly down the empty hallway. "It's quite incredible to watch them and their powers evolve."

Daphne couldn't help but mumble, "I wish I had something like this when I was a child."

"You're welcome to listen in on one of the classes if that interests you." Jean smiles. "There's a lot to learn about yourself and your powers."

Daphne nods as they approach one of the bedroom doors. Jean unlocks it and both women step inside. The room was comfortable, Daphne thought. A real bed and some privacy. She was lucky to get even three hours of sleep a night due to frequent nightmares or someone pulling her for testing. There were no glass cages or lingering eyes. 

──★

On the other side of the mansion, Logan sat in the chair by Charles' desk. He wasn't sure what the other man would have to say. Instead, his thoughts moved towards Daphne and how she must be doing; If she was still cold and shaking from the lake. 

"You did the right thing by bringing her here, Logan" Charles said, capturing Logan's attention again. "She's going to be fine."

"Why'd she do it?" Logan grunted. 

Charles sighs, unsure if he should tell Logan. 

"She was tortured and used as a weapon for decades, finally having made her escape from them she discovered that they stripped away her ability to have children too." 

Logan wasn't sure if he understood exactly. He knew that the government had done that to female mutants in the past to eliminate the rise of mutant children but this girl was still young. Why would she be worrying about having children right now?

"The attraction control was only further torment installed on her," Charles explains. "They trained her to cause pain knowing how gentle her heart is. She was forced to take the lives of people she wanted to help. She is afraid to live, that's why she jumped."

Logan exhaled sharply. He wanted nothing more than to rip apart the people who tortured her with his claws. Daphne's image appears in his head again; soft features and shivering hands. How peaceful she looked with her eyes closed; and beautiful. Logan brushed the last part as the attraction control got to him. 

"She is young. She can still live a full life, get married, and settle down if she wants." Logan said. 

She looks incredibly young, Logan thought when he first pulled her from the water. Old enough to live alone but not nearly as old as him. 

"Daphne believes that she is cursed. Everyone that she has ever caused pain to has left her."

"The pain was bearable."

Charles stares at Logan and then says, "If you think so, tell her that."

"It's not like that." Logan squints at him while lighting the cigar that was in his pocket. "She's too young."

"She stops aging in two years at thirty." Charles lets slip.

"She isn't even thirty?" Logan mumbles to himself. "Jesus."

"I can see how you found her and brought her here."

"You said it yourself, I was just doing the right thing."

Charles chuckles, letting it go. Logan gets up and leaves since they both know there are more important things to worry about.

──★

The mansion is dead silent. Odd considering how many people live here, Daphne thought while staring at the ceiling. All the children were in bed by nine while the adults roamed the halls until midnight. She wrapped herself up in the flannel and locked herself away shortly after Jean left her alone. Around six, Jean knocked on the door a few times to invite her to dinner but Daphne didn't move from under the warm beige sheats. She lay there for hours staring out the window or at the ceiling. Sometime at four in the morning, Daphne figured it was a safe time to make a run for it. This place was lovely and so were the people but she had already decided where she wanted to be. 

"Where do you think you're going, bub?" Logan's voice made Daphne spin on her heels to face him. Her gaze moves up his body he's dressed in a fitted white tank top and plaid pajama pants. It was difficult for her not to stare but she fought the urge. 

"Making your life easier and leaving," Daphne responds, reaching for the door when his hand lands on her wrist with a small pull. 

"I can't let you do that." 

"And why can't you?"

Daphne glared into his hazel eyes, trying to intimidate him but he only found it amusing. 

"Because I don't want to have to save your ass again."

Daphne couldn't help but laugh. Did he seriously think she cared about how this affects him?

"I don't need you to 'save my ass'."

"You sure did earlier." He cockily adds. "Plus they want you to stay."

"Why? So they can use me how they want and discard me when they are done? Look, I've done that whole thing before and it never ends well." Unknowingly to Daphne, her eyes glow maroon again, causing Logan's claws to peak out a bit in case.

"I get it. Trust me, I do but running won't help you either." He says, attempting to calm her before deciding to jump into action. "These people won't hurt you, Daphne."

Daphne's hand drops from the door, releasing his grip and her eyes roll back to their original shade of green.

"Are there any leftovers from dinner?" She asked, seeing one corner of his mouth curl up a little.

Logan led the way into the kitchen, pulling out the leftovers and a beer. Daphne made a plate and warmed it up while he pretended not to watch her. So many questions left unanswered about each other yet neither of them wants to be the first one to ask. It was silent while Daphne twisted spaghetti on a fork and Logan slowly drank his beer.

"Where are you from?" He asks, breaking the silence.

"Not entirely sure." She shrugs. "How old are you?"

 He didn't look much older, she thought. Maybe mid-thirties?

"What's it matter to you?" He answers in a rough voice, almost sounding irritated by the question.

"Curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat, ya know?"

"Good thing I'm no cat." Daphne smiles for the first time. Now he knew he had to give in.

Logan sighs, looking defeated. "I'm over 200 years old."

He moves on immediately, not giving Daphne any time to respond.

 "Parents?"

"None."

"None?"

"Nope. I'm nobody's daughter." 

Daphne avoids Logan's stare. He thinks back to his talk with Charles earlier about her life; isolated, tortured, and trained to cause damage. How lonely she must be.

The grandfather clock reads five forty-five. Everyone would be awake soon. Daphne had to ask this question while she had the chance.

"Why did you bother to save me in the first place?" She asks quietly, not looking up from her plate. 

Logan didn't answer for a minute but he watched her intensely. Something about being under his microscope intimidated me.

"You were dying." He states in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Regular people die every day. I bet you don't save all of them." The response flies out of her mouth before she can catch it.

"You aren't a regular person."

"Right," She sighs. "The mutant of it all."

Suddenly, she rises from the stool and places the plate in the sink, no longer feeling hungry. Logan calls after her twice but neither time does she turn back. Instead, she shut the bedroom door and crawled back into the bed alone again.

[miss-musings]

"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1

I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.

Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.

I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.

But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.

I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.

CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?

Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.

We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.

I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.

He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?

They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."

As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focus on their reactions as much.

But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.

No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:

That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.

That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.

Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.

Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.

It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.

But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:

The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.

Yet they never went back for him.

Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.

I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.

But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.

And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.

But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...

ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE

I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.

However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.

Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.

So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.

However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.

Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.

And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.

The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.

Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.

Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:

Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;

How to remove an inhibitor chip; and

That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will

And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.

They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.

But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.

But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.

Again, they have all the information needed at this point.

As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.

But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."

If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???

Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!

Which brings us nicely to:

THE DOUBLE STANDARD

Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.

They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.

In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.

It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.

"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.

"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.

"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...

"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...

You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!

Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.

It really feels like such a double standard.

They seem to care about everyone BUT him.

Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...

Echo.

Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?

Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.

One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing he was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.

Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.

Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!

SOME CONSIDERATIONS

I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.

While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.

And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)

I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.

(EDIT: Looking back now, Echo *not* talking about Crosshair is such a weird choice. Shouldn’t he of all people know what it’s like to be mind-controlled? To be weaponized by your enemy and forced to kill your loved ones?)

(ANOTHER EDIT: I was rewatching 1.14 “War-Mantle” today and this line stood out to me:

Echo: If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try to get him out.

I realize that being imprisoned is different than being mind-controlled and actively hunting down you down, but it’s still weird that Echo of all people doesn’t seem to give a flying eff about Crosshair’s situation while practically begging Hunter to rescue a clone they’ve never met.🧐)

Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?

Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.

He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.

But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.

We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.

Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.

I cannot stress this enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.

And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.

It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.

But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.

And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.

I would've been livid too.

Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.

I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."

The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.

I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.

Granted, it's really hard to tell.

Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.

But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.

For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)

I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.

And I imagine Crosshair did too.

IN CONCLUSION

Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.

I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.

This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.

Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.

On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.

I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.

I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).

But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.

Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.

But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

AN ADDENDUM

(EDIT/UPDATE:) Since writing the above, I've stumbled across a few other posts of people making the counterargument, saying they believe Hunter was in the right and don't appreciate the hate he gets for not going back for Crosshair.

People are more than welcome to make that argument. I think that kind of debate just shows how nuanced this show and its characters are, because you can make valid arguments for both sides.

And to clarify, I don't hate Hunter (and the others) for not going back for Crosshair in S1. As Hunter says later in 3.05: "Nobody really understood what was happening back then." It was a chaotic time -- for the galaxy and their family.

In the span of one episode, the Jedi are exterminated; the war ends; the Republic is reorganized into the Empire; the clones' future role in the galaxy is questioned; and when CF99 refuse to kill civilians, they're declared traitors and arrested.

And to top it all off, Crosshair is acting strange AND they find out they have a little sister who's in danger.

So, when Crosshair seemingly betrays them, and they barely escape with their lives, it's understandable that the Batch's first move is just to get their bearings and figure out their next steps.

And, of course, all the dominoes fall from there.

So, while I definitely don't hate him and I understand why they don't go back for Crosshair initially, I am disappointed in Hunter.

If the writers wanted me to be on his side and understand that it was basically impossible to go back for Crosshair, then I needed a scene showing/telling me why they can't. Or I at least needed a scene proving that they care about him, because based on what we actually got in Season 1, I tend to fall on Crosshair's side when he argues his brothers didn't care about him the way they clearly care about Hunter when he's captured.

You can certainly make arguments that, because Crosshair's their brother and he knows all their strategies, strengths, weaknesses, etc., that he's even more dangerous than all the other Imperials they might face. Yes, definitely. I argue that's all the more reason to try to save him.

Yes, there would be risks. But, if you succeed, not only do you lose a very dangerous enemy -- one who knows you inside and out -- but you would (hopefully) regain a teammate.

Imagine you're in Hunter's shoes and your sibling -- or if you don't have one, a really good friend who feels like a sibling -- gets taken captive and mind-controlled by an evil organization. Wouldn't you try your damnedest to get them out? Or at the very least, wouldn't you be sad about their situation?

Rewatching 1.03 "The Replacements," there's an interesting scene that's probably the closest we get to a real discussion about Crosshair -- how they feel about him, whether they miss him, whether he really betrayed them or was being influenced by the chip.

@laughhardrunfastbekindsblog did a great analysis of each character's reaction, which I recommend you read at some point.

I want to take a quick look at it too, starting with the brothers looking at Omega with Crosshair's weapon kit like she just knocked over Grandma's urn or something.

It feels like, for the first time, they're starting to let themselves process what really happened. This is their first real chance to mourn losing their brother.

Tech wonders whether Crosshair's actions were influenced by his inhibitor chip, and Omega basically confirms that theory. Wrecker is excited by the possibility that Crosshair didn't willingly betray them, but Hunter very quickly shuts the conversation down, saying they have other problems to tackle first.

While he's not technically wrong, Hunter pulls out the "raincheck card” too frequently in Season 1. And subsequently, a lot of the topics that come up in conversations keep simmering in the background while the Batch does other things until they're FORCED to confront them.

This scene is the perfect example of that. The Batch didn't mention Crosshair except in passing in 1.02, and it's only when Omega finds his weapon kit that they are FORCED to talk about him. (EDIT: Check out the 3:45 mark of this video on 2.09 “The Crossing” for more examples.)

I get the sense that Hunter's reaction in this scene, plus all the distractions that come up later, is why the others never really bring up Crosshair again, except in passing. It's a sore subject for Hunter, and they all tend to take their cues from him, especially this early in the show. Plus, they're probably still processing their own feelings, so they might not be ready to bring up the topic.

One last thing from 1.03 I want to note is that, later in the episode, Hunter is telling Omega about his and his brothers' enhanced abilities, and he automatically excludes Crosshair from the list.

It really feels like Hunter -- and the rest of the squad by extension -- labeled Crosshair as a lost cause very early on. That it was a given that he was their enemy now and there was no real chance of getting him back (unless he came to his senses on his own like Howzer and other clones later do).

This might be why they're so shocked when he reveals he removed his chip, because they were hoping that once he "woke up" that he would come back to them. Wrecker even says as much to Crosshair in 1.16: "We still would've taken ya."

Ultimately, I think the characters had differing perspectives on who had the responsibility in the situation.

It seems Hunter and the others took a very passive approach. They told Crosshair about the chip when they had the chance, hoped he would "wake up" on his own, and would've accepted him back if he had.

But, Crosshair feels they should've taken a more active approach. He's hurt that they never came back for him, whether to save him or to join him.

(EDIT #2: I realize that by 1.15, at least, Crosshair seems to be arguing that they should’ve come back to join him in the Empire. He might be making that argument, but I’m saying his brothers had a responsibility to try to save him, and in that regard, I believe they failed.)

This is essentially the exchange Hunter and Crosshair have in 1.15:

Crosshair: They don't leave their own behind, most of the time. Hunter: You tried to kill us. We didn't have a choice. Crosshair: Hmm. And I did?

And, as I said before, based on everything we saw in Season 1, I tend to side with Crosshair.

Hunter made mistakes -- never talking about Crosshair and shutting down the others when they did was a big one. He never addressed the elephant in the room until he HAD to, and by then it was basically too late. And, of course, it seems the others took their cues from him.

As the leader, it was his job to -- at some point when they weren't in immediate danger -- introduce the topic and ask the others for their thoughts about Crosshair, especially once they knew how powerful the chip's influence was and once they knew how to remove it.

But, he didn't.

If the writers wanted me to side with Hunter when he says "We didn't have a choice" -- especially given the double standard I discussed earlier -- I don't think they gave me good enough reason to.

However, I think that's ultimately why the writers did what they did.

Both Hunter and Crosshair made enough mistakes in Season 1 that you can argue all day about which one of them failed the other more, which makes the show and characters all the stronger for it. Because neither one is 100% in the right or 100% in the wrong.

I just wanted to play Devil's Advocate, and try to explain why Crosshair felt like he did, and why I believe he was (at least partly) justified.

So, feel free to continue debating it, but I at least believe that Crosshair's brothers failed him first.

[amirazat]

I’ve seen a few K@taang fans say that Aang telling Katara to forgive Yon Rha in The Southern Raiders is a parallel to Katara helping Aang leave the Avatar State. I really don’t like this take, for a simple reason:

The Avatar State is a supernatural uncontrollable rage. Katara’s anger is not.

On multiple occasions, Aang states that he regrets his actions while in the Avatar state, and he doesn’t like feeling out of control in that way. We even see his rational spirit’s reaction to the Avatar State when it detaches from Aang’s body to speak to Roku in “The Avatar State”.

Aang wants to be stopped when he is in this state. When Katara reaches out to him, she is not trying to change his mind, she is trying to allow his rational mind to regain control. She is giving him agency, not denying him agency.

By contrast, while Katara is angry in The Southern Raiders, we’re never told that her rational faculties aren’t still operational. She’s determined. Not possessed.

At no point does Katara say that she regrets acting in anger. Instead, we see her exercise judgement and mercy even when face to face with the man she saw kill her mother.

This is not someone who is out of control.

(Not that she necessarily would have been out of control if she did kill him.)

The fact that Katara wasn’t out of control and didn’t need to be stopped is further reinforced by the fact that, unlike Aang who agonises over his actions in the Avatar State after the fact, Katara doesn’t express regret at her actions or relief that she didn’t kill Yon Rha. Instead she re-states her initial position that she will not forgive him.

All of this makes Katara’s anger at Yon Rha very different from the Avatar State. She is in control of her actions and does not want or need to be stopped. Trying to stop her isn’t helping to reassert her own control over her actions, it’s questioning her active decisions. It’s denying her agency instead of enabling it.

An emotional woman is not the same thing as an irrational or out of control one.

[sugar-grigri]

The ambivalence of life: the massage metaphor 

I'm going to get straight to the point: Denji is perfectly right to want to suffer - it's precisely what he lacked in his 'normal' life.

To understand this, let's go back to the chapter.

Introducing Denji as a CSM wannabe right at the start of the chapter isn't as insignificant as you might think, because this chapter helps to differentiate between CSM and a CSM wannabe.

After all, Denji could very well be one, and chapter 150 makes it clear that the protagonist's dream is to be a CSM, so he literally wants... to be a CSM.

But in order to become CSM himself, we have to understand what CSM is. And that's precisely where the difference lies between a CSM wannabe and Denji as CSM.

Part 2 has repeatedly shown that 'CSM' has become a marketing product, an idol for young people, a source of detestation for others, like express usurpers who have taken to the stage. In short, CSM's identity began to become more diffuse, questioned to the point where it seemed to escape Denji. So what is CSM? 

Well, let me ask you this: what's the first thing you think of when I mention CSM?

Most fans will cite the most traumatic and tragic chapters, shuddering at the mere mention of volume 9. There's your answer: suffering is the secret of CSM's identity. 

But let's move away from this more meta side, and get back to the chapter. 

I know that Nayuta being pushed aside and put in her place stung some people's hearts and it hurt me too! But Denji is right to push her away, cruel as that may seem. Because the complexity of Denji and Nayuta's relationship also lies in the fact that their relationship can have several negative sides.

Firstly, Nayuta is and remains the demon of control, a demon who can't help but have a hold, even over those she loves. And she has done this with Denji on one occasion: when she forbids him to see Asa again.

She forbids it out of a desire to protect him, fearing that Denji will be taken in by yet another girl. This reaction depresses Denji, but he regains hope by acting as CSM, motivated by Nayuta herself because CSM is admired and loved by people. The first instinct at this stage would be to think that this is a bit contradictory: why push Nayuta away when she's the first to admire and encourage CSM? 

Because she hasn't grasped what CSM is all about either. I'll expand on that later, but for now, keep in mind that suffering is intrinsic to CSM. Even when she prevented Denji from continuing his story with Asa, she was preventing Denji from suffering, in itself, from experimenting. The same experience can be just as beneficial as it can be negative, and it's part of the game of life not to know the outcome of a relationship, otherwise you wouldn't go with others.

And that's what Nayuta has done, the demon of control has a happiness that's enough to be two, it's a demon that risks being alone so much that a single loved one is enough to make her happy. But that's Nayuta's idea, not Denji's. 

I'll come back to this a bit more, but for the moment I'm still going to follow the chapter. Denji almost comes to thank Barem and the others for burning down his house and his pets, but he's also aware that morality is being undermined and even talks to Pochita about it. And that's fascinating. 

Even though it may seem horrible, the loss of his animal family allows Denji to realise that he needs this suffering in his life, for many reasons. If Kishibe judged Denji as a man made to kill demons, it's because suffering makes him gloat, because it's the most intense experience he's had in his life.

Transforming himself into a CSM is a way for Denji to confront suffering; he has even internalised it since he was a child, making his body suffer to pay off his debts.

CSM is a creature made for suffering. When Aki became possessed by the Gun Devil, CSM was the culmination of Denji's suffering, his demonic form killing his brother. Just as Denji transformed into Pochita was saved by a dying Power.

The foundations of Denji, Aki and Power only consolidated Denji's relationship with suffering. This double facet, between love and suffering through grief. Pochita is another example, because becoming CSM was followed by an experience of mourning, the loss of Pochita who had merged with him. 

Suffering is as intrinsic to all species as are death and love because suffering is the result of both, the love we have for others is the cause of our suffering when they die.

CSM is this universality, with Pochita sacrificing himself to prevent Denji from dying, suffering every time the cable is pulled. And instead of fighting it, CSM uses it as the engine of his chainsaws. When Nayuta says that this is not the time for chainsaws, she wants to prevent her brother from suffering. But Denji understands that it's precisely when he's suffering that it's time to be CSM. 

Having your head and arms brutally chopped off hurts, fighting demons hurts, in short, transforming into a CSM physically hurts and must hurt. Imagine having a cable cut in half across your torso: it hurts, so why pull it? That's why Denji IS CSM, because it's when it hurts that he realises he wants to be CSM? 

Hybrids don't exploit this pain, demons like the Eternity Demon are even afraid of it, and that's what explains CSM's superiority: suffering exalts him and he uses it as a means to fight. When Quanxi cut off the weapons' heads, it was enough for them to admit defeat, while Denji calmly puts his head back on, not giving up the fight. 

Weapons can't die, but they can see others die, just as suffering can't escape them either. Either they see themselves almost as demigods, as prophets, or they can see themselves as great knights out to save the world.

Denji knows how to exploit his nature; he drinks blood at the slightest opportunity, tries to devour like a demon and is not afraid to use it, unlike the other hybrids. (Quanxi is an exception)

As the spear weapon starts to provoke CSM by saying to really scare them, CSM exploits being sliced in half. Suffering is the fear of weapons.

The whole thing also has a symbolic force, because we've been trying endlessly to cut Denji in two, his human life on the one hand and his life as CSM on the other. Cutting CSM in two won't do him any good, all he has to do is pull his cable.

But above all, the comparison with massage is a very good one, because it sums up life, this combination of good sensations and not-so-good ones. This is precisely what pitted Denji against Makima, that bad films or bad facets of the world and humanity must exist.

This time, part 2 doesn't boil down to this ideology; what Denji is saying is that to live is also to suffer, to be happy is also to have been unhappy. All these things are not mutually exclusive, they go together. 

That's why Denji wins against the weapons, because he won't fight against the suffering they'll put him through, he'll use it to the full, knowing that behind it all there'll be a good feeling. And that seeing the positive side even in pain is nothing other than hope.

Denji himself says that life is a superposition of all these facets. There are things we may never get over, but they don't stop us from moving forward. That's why this chapter is incredible, because Denji doesn't accept suffering as a demon when he's fighting, he wants to accept it in his life too, Denji's life, he has to experiment without Nayuta's permanent approval. 

Denji has lost many people close to him, including his pets. It is precisely through their loss that he wants to suffer. Because suffering is the privilege of the living.

Chainsaw Man is nothing more than 2 entities reunited to survive together.

CSM's laughter is symbolic of this, and chapter 151 made an explicit reference to chapter 82 when Makima starts laughing despite the paroxysm of suffering for Denji, who has just seen Power die. What Fujimoto does is bring together the previous antagonist and the protagonist, to bring out the essence of his work.

Both Makima and Denji laugh despite the horror of the situation as the mask finally comes off, Makima presents her plans and Denji realises what Chainsaw Man is. In short, laughter is the symbol of letting go, as the mask finally comes off. And all this sums up Chainsaw Man, this confrontation between comedy and tragedy, this strange association.

Readers, don't fight the suffering of the characters either, you're reading CSM precisely because of it. You want to suffer just like CSM. So have fun with it.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Dumbledore's Manipulations: Part 6(?)

I just reread the scene in Deathly Hallows of Dumbledore and Snape on Snape's memories after Lily died, and that entire scene reminded me of the scene at the end of book 5. After Sirius died and Harry was having his breakdown.

Snape breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Lily dies:

“Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans’s eyes, I am sure?” “DON’T!” bellowed Snape. “Gone. . . dead. . . ” “Is this remorse, Severus?” “I wish. . . I wish I were dead. . . ” “And what use would that be to anyone?” said Dumbledore coldly. “If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear.” Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore’s words appeared to take a long time to reach him. “What—what do you mean?” “You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily’s son.” “He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—” “The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does.” There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last, he said, “Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear. . . especially Potter’s son. . . I want your word!” “My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?” Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape’s ferocious, anguished face. “If you insist. . . ”

(DH, 573)

Harry breaking down in front of Dumbledore after Sirius dies:

“There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry,” said Dumbledore’s voice. “On the contrary . . . the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength.” Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words. “My greatest strength, is it?” said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. “You haven’t got a clue. . . . You don’t know . . .” “What don’t I know?” asked Dumbledore calmly. It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage. “I don’t want to talk about how I feel, all right?” “Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human —” “THEN — I — DON’T — WANT — TO — BE — HUMAN!” [...] “Let me out,” Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore’s. “Not until I have had my say,” said Dumbledore. [...] “It meant,” said Dumbledore, “that the person who has the only chance of conquering Lord Voldemort for good was born at the end of July, nearly sixteen years ago. This boy would be born to parents who had already defied Voldemort three times.” Harry felt as though something was closing in upon him. His breathing seemed difficult again. “It means — me?” [...] “I am afraid,” said Dumbledore slowly, looking as though every word cost him a great effort, “that there is no doubt that it is you.”

(OotP, 823)

I just, found these two scenes awfully similar in tone when reading the one in Deathly Hallows last night.

In both Snape/Harry are in emotional turmoil after the most important person to them dies. Both feel like dying (Snape: "I wish I were dead", Hary: "then I don't want to be human"). Both shout at Dumbledore when he speaks all too calmly of things they don't want/need to hear at that moment.

And Dumbledore speaks calmly and coldly to both of them, revealing information he hid from them both (to Snape he tells about Voldemort's immortality, to Harry he tells about the Prophecy) before guilting them through their grief into what he needs them to do.

Now, I'm not exactly blaming him, because, from his position, he needs Snape as a spy and he needs Harry to be willing to do anything to kill Voldemort — to take Voldemort as his responsibility. Dumbledore needs these things to happen to have the best chance of completing his plan to defeat Voldemort.

I just, can't help but note how cold it is. How cold and manipulative Dumbledore can be when he feels he needs to be. Even as he explains his care for Harry as a flaw in his plan, he speaks calmly and simply. And he is right caring about Harry is a flaw, because he always planned for Harry to die. He knew since he saw the scar on Harry's forehead:

“I guessed, fifteen years ago,” said Dumbledore, “when I saw the scar upon your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort.”

(OotP, 826)

And even if I think Dumbledore is honest in that he'd rather Harry wouldn't die, I don't think he cares for him as much as he says he does. In the same way, he's very cold towards Snape even years later when he tells him Harry must die. (I don't think Snape and Dumbledore are actually friends)

Idk, I just read the scene in DH with Snape and it really reminded me of the scene with Harry at the end of OotP.

[teyamloving12]

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫l

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Miles Quaritch x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content, large age gap, cursing, mentions of violence, implied sex, dub-con, abuse of authority, unprotected sex, etc.

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: He was always watching. He saw you grow up into who you are now and only chuckled at the snarky remarks you made towards him.

He was vigilant, at least that what his mother would say when he was young. He was always wary of the people and things that dared to breathe around him. Maybe that is why he was held in high regard-- no, people didnt show him any regard or esteem. They were not at ease as a consequence of his barbaric tactics. The excruciating demands from his mouth when he bellowed commands to the inferior was immeasurable.

"𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞."

His lean muscles become tense whilst he caught a glimpse of the imbeciles that bowed before him. The little bastard of one of the recombinants would only amuse herself with the teddy bear that had a broken button as its eye in the corner of the meeting room.

His eyes would turn to then look at the little girl and she would express tenderness. A smile meritorious of millions, a piece of treasure that would glisten when polished. She was the ripest fruit upon the tree.

He softened for once in his life but he regained his composure and scoffed at the little, joyful creature. She is pathetic like her father. Always smiling and galavanting about the place. "No wonder Sully killed him", he said in a low-pitched tone. The fool left his little bastard after conjuring her up in her mother's womb. Is that what a man is? What whore of a woman opens her legs during war?

From a mere babe to a woman, he watched with keen eyes as you matured. He knew you despised his existence. He knew you picked up your father's soft and wimpish heart and mind. He felt a glare full of disgust from across the room. He only chuckled. Inadequate. You were pathetic, however, how could he resist that malevolent glow in your eyes?

The meeting room was packed like sardines and as loud as a clap of thunder. Shouts and cries of annoyance and protest echoed across the meeting room. Quaritch tilted his head at the sight of his team at each other's throats. "Jake Sully is a traitor that must be killed immediately", he roared. His ear-splitting voice boomed across the room.

"I beg to disagree", _____ said with an iron hand. "You come to their home demanding control and honor.", ______ started. Not a hint of apprehensiveness came from your tone. "This is their home and you came to disrespect it, therefore Sully chose the right path to leave rather than to stay.", _____ continued, fearing not the consequences that came after. "You got your mother's smart mouth huh?", Quaritch chuckled.

Though his hair was gray with white streaks on both sides of his head, his body was still muscular and strong. He had the ability to strike fear in anyone that he came across, young or old. "You are a fool to think that the Navi will give up their home for you. How confident do you have to be?", ______ clapped back at his supposingly insult.

No one in this world had the capability to wipe a petulant expression from his face. The Colonel's grin fell from his face. His eyes narrowed at the woman before him. "A fool, did you just call me a fool, little girl?", he focused your attention on his last two words. "I'm not your little girl.", _______ uttered. He then had the nerve to turn his back to you showing that your words had no significance to him.

He didn't care. He never did.

The little bastard that would play with her teddy bear has finally grown up. So grown, she had the effrontery and impudence to disrespect him. Quaritch faced you but his face was not of stone, almost as if he was laughing at your remark.

"When your whore of a mother decided to spread her legs in the middle of war, I gave her pity. She was lucky enough to give birth and she was lucky that I had not killed you.", he mouthed. You heard a few giggles from the recombinants in the room." This is the same place where you were raised, where you are fed. This is where you were grown and you will remember who you're talking to, little girl", he finished, emphasizing the last two words once more.

"Colonel or not, you will not dare to insult my mother like that.", _______ retorted. "The dead has no power, she's dead and so is your daddy. What will they do?", Quaritch snickered. The recombinants made comments on how your mother would have attacked him spiritually, earning a chuckle from Quaritch.

"Leave", he stated. The recombinants began to leave, confused by the sudden command. "You, stay", Quaritch demanded. You glared at the disgusting man that stood tall before you. "What do you want?", ______ mumbled. Quaritch grabbed you by your chin. "Do you hate me?", he asked with a smirk. After a moment of silence, your eyes met his. "More than ever", I responded. He scoffed at your remark. It was not what he had expected.

Out of rage and frustration, he pushed you back. Your figure collided with the edge of the meeting table causing immense, nerve-wrecking pain. "What the fuck is wrong with you?", ______ yelled, holding your side. "It's funny.", he deadpanned. "Funny how I wasted my resources on a bitch who claims she hates me.", He said, walking towards you. "Your glares won't kill me.", he added

Quaritch grabbed you by the nape of your neck. You attempted to defend yourself by slapping him across his face. He threw you on the meeting table with ease. Your breath hitched as you felt your back make contact with the stern, glass table. "You will learn that ungratefulness and disobedience come with a price.", he declared. Your glares were vicious until you heard it.

The sound of his belt buckle being undone...

Your heart dropped. "No", _____said, denying his advances. "You're still denying me, little girl", he cringed at your refusal. "You are abusing the authority that you have.", ______ exclaimed in fright. "Scream. Tell them. Tell them how you hate me.", Quaritch snickered. Tears streamed down your face, stopping at you chin. "You and I both know that this room is soundproof. They won't hear you", he whispered the last sentence.

The worst happened. You closed your eyes, praying to God in your head. You hoped you were just dreaming. Unfortunately, you were wide awake, living in a nightmare he had created. He towered over your frozen figure. "You had so much mouth just now.", Quaritch smirked. "Sometimes that nasty ass attitude hides your pretty face", he added. You closed your eyes, refusing to look at his bulging member.

The tip was rubbing against the soaked spot on your panties. Your head was spinning. On the verge to faint, Quaritch began to speak up. "Why are you wet if you hate me?". His forehead was dripping in sweat. His swollen cock was in his fist whilst he teased at the tip, spreading his precum on your underwear. Quaritch thought about you. He thought of how he would shot what makes him feel heavenly. He knew you learned fast and would care for him like he wanted.

"Do you still hate me?", he asked again. His cock twitched as he slid your panties aside revealing a soaked slit. Your eyes fluttered open instantly. He attempted to push him away but he was clearly stronger. The veins on his cock bulged like a beast. It was hungry and ready to strike. "I absolutely despise yo-ahhh", you were met with his cock half way inside yet you felt full.

He groaned. "Fuck. Should've done this earlier.", he muttered under his breath. Your pussy was squeezing him, tight enough to cut off blood flow to his lower body or maybe he was just too big. "Take it out!", you exclaimed throwing punches at his chiseled torso. Your command was a clearly a joke. He trailed his fingers to your clit and places them into your face to show you the truth. Your body wants it. It was obvious.

"Admit it little girl, you always wanted it", he declared. Did you? Did you really want it? "I-", you were caught up in your words and thoughts. You hated him, he was unjust and cruel. So why is your body betraying you at this moment?

“f-fuck—” Quaritch breathed, and his voice lets out a shaky call of your name. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he groaned. Quaritch bit his lip, fighting back a moan as he pushed himself slowly into you even more. Your back arched as you let out a shaky moan.

He grabbed your hips as he thrusted inside you with no mercy. “are you mine?”, Quaritch asks and the rough, deep tone is such a turn on for you. You hated yourself for moaning like a common slut for him, your colonel. The one you hated all your life.

“Don’t cover your mouth. No one can hear you. And even if they could, who do you think would help you, hmm?” Quaritch said. "I-I don't know" ______ whimpered. He quickened his actions further. You could feel your orgasm building deep within your core.

A lustful feeling, taking over every last rational thought your brain had left to offer. "P-please slow down." ______ begged. You whined in response, sparks of pleasure shooting from your dampened core. The unbearable sound of squelching filled the space around you. A small moan escaped from your lips.

You didn’t want this. You didn’t. But as the pleasure became so unbearable you became unsure. You felt yourself clench down on Quaritch's hard, throbbing cock. Your orgasm overtook your shaking body, ripples of pleasure coursed through you. You cried out from the aching pleasure. 

Although he hadn't finished, he pulled out. He stared at the face you had. He fucked you dumb. Now you will know your place. "Do you hate me?", he asked with a smirk. "Never~", you moaned, your pussy still sensitive from his cock.

Good little girl.

[terry-perry]

Out of Business

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

The next part of this

Tags: @mysterypotatoink @lokis-imaginary-friend @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @martinys-world @yui-onnero

He lurked in the background, observing the lovely doe before him grazing on grass. She was a sweet thing that was none the wiser of his presence as he slowly snuck up towards her.

He did his best to muffle the static radiating off him. He was normally able to keep it under control, but lately, he'd been out of sorts. He could deny it as much as he wanted, but everyone knew what was happening. Further proof came in how he spotted the markings of a nearby tree as he got closer to the doe, leading him to release an audible growl, alerting the doe of his presence.

It was too late for her, however, since a large, dark tentacle pierced her middle, killing her in an instant. He pounced on the carcass and took a giant chunk of it by ripping it with his teeth. For the majority of the time, he isn't so primal with his food and takes his time with it. That day and the past few had him unreasonably angry at everyone and everything.

He was mad at Carmilla for speaking with him, Y/N for not giving him a chance to explain himself, and at himself for letting her go. At that moment, he was mad at what was carved on the tree, which now looked over him and made him feel more judged for his recent actions.

It didn't help that he still remembered how the markings got there...

Months ago...

"Husker, my good man! I need you to serve only the finest bottle of wine tonight, you hear?!"

Everyone was caught off guard by Alastor's presence, seeing him trudge down the hotel stairs more animated than usual.

"I want things to be 100% top-notch this evening for me and my gal,"

"Aww, Alastor," Charlie approached him at the bar with curiosity and intrigue. "Do you have a friend stopping by?"

"Suppose you can say that," Alastor replied, still practically beaming as his shadow was conjured up with a mirror so he could adjust his bowtie and spruce up his hair. "I'm inviting a special someone to the hotel. Someone I've grown accustomed to after spending time with her."

"Oh shit! Am I hearing things right?!" Angel was the next to approach Alastor after hearing this bombshell. "Big, scary Alastor found someone he's willing to get it on with?"

Alastor snapped his head away from his reflection to glare at Angel, but it was only a second or two before regaining his composure. "I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. I have been courting someone."

Charlie practically squealed upon hearing the news. "That's great! I'm so happy to hear such news! She must be quite special to get you so happy and want to make this a lovely night for you both."

"Special, or out of her fuckin' mind..." Husk grumbled from the bar so only Vaggie, who joined the rest of the group, could hear and silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, my dear. I do request one thing. My lady love is a very private person and would rather keep our relationship under wraps for the time being. I assume you all can refrain from any gossip that can be conjured from our romance."

"Of course! Your secret is safe-"

"Why exactly do we need to keep this a secret?" Vaggie interrupted her girlfriend to offer the usual suspicion she reserved just for him. "You're not trying to rope us into some shady business, are you?"

Alastor refrained from rolling his eyes. She was always so distrustful.

His relationship with Y/N might've started as a potential business and a possible deal, especially since it was so easy to capture her heart so her soul would've been no problem. The more time spent with her, however, it instead was slowly turning into something else - something dearer that left him so unsure. Instead of him getting something out of her, he always made sure she'd want for absolutely nothing, no soul required.

He wondered how he could've gone through life and death not knowing such an endearing, trusting darling. She was kind and gentle but didn't possess any of the bubbly naivete Charlie did. She was not only aware of where they were but also came from a family of assailants and weapons dealers who raised her to be alert and to fend for herself. He both feared and admired that along with how she accepted him for who he was and never judged the darkest parts of himself.

It was all so new and a bit alarming, whatever this was. He just knew he had to keep a good hold on it--

----

Alastor's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at his door. No doubt Charlie chose to stop by to check on him after he charged back to the hotel a few days ago, after his fallout with Y/N.

It wasn't the princess' dulcet tones that implored him, however, after some insistent knocking. Instead, Alastor heard a more unwelcoming voice that under more proper circumstances he'd find entertaining.

"Alastor?" Vaggie continued to call out to him outside his room. "Come on, let me in. We need to talk."

[madamevirgo]

okay so i have an idea for a lady jessica x reader fic, where the reader is one of the fremen and supports and protects jessica, around the time when paul and jessica join the fremen. She is still pretty vulnerable and even a bit scared but only shows that side of herself with the reader.

obviously you dont have to write that :)

Mine to Give

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f!)reader

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none? Terrible writing, softness.

A/N: I took this and ran with it ijbol. I’m a little rusty, so I apologize, but I hope you’re happy with this. Thank you for the request!!

You looked up from the stillsuit that you’d been working on repairing for the last hour at the sound of rushed footsteps moving about. 

Although it was not uncommon to hear commotion about the Sietch, these sounds were different. The footsteps were rushed and had a certain urgency to them that compelled you to follow them. As you got closer to the communal space, you heard voices laced with equal parts anger and anguish. 

“What’s going on?” You asked a little boy who almost crashed into you as he was pushed back by the large crowd that had been formed. 

“Stilgar is back with the others, and they’ve brought two outsiders. One of them killed Jamis” he replied hastily, before worming his way into the crowd once more - like a little desert mouse. 

You frowned as you watched him go, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. Jamis was dead, killed by the strangers. Why would Stilgar - a man you knew to be wise and calculating - risk endangering the community by bringing the foreigners here? He wouldn’t. He had a motive and a reason, you would find out. 

—————

“I’ve been gone for weeks, and you don’t even make an effort to greet me upon our arrival.” You turned around to see Chani leaning against the entrance to your room. 

“I didn’t hear you enter the yali.” You said as you approached her with a smile and claimed her in a hug. 

“What had distracted you enough for your acute senses to have been so diminished.” She asks, and you follow her as she sits at the edge of your bed. 

You take a moment to collect your thoughts. “These outsiders that you and Stilgar have brought, what do you make of them?” 

She looks ahead, her eyes seeming to lose focus as she thinks of an answer. “They’re the last remaining survivors of the Atreides family, our latest oppressors - slaughtered in the night by the Harkonnens. The woman is a Bene Gesserit and Stilgar believes the boy to be the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib. You know how I feel about these prophecies that have been written to control us.” You put a hand on her clenched fist to placate her. 

“Calm yourself, my sister.” You start quietly. “I know you are suspicious by nature, but you must not let your anger cloud your vision. Trust that Stilgar knows what he is doing. Give them a chance.” 

“If I am too cynical, then you are too trusting. I fear that your heart will get you in trouble.” She says with a slight smile, making you bump her shoulder with yours. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust strangers. And this prophecy - the Lisan al Gaib is supposed to be Fremen.” She said as her eyes once again regained their previous harshness. 

“I’m an outsider,” You replied pensively. “Yet, Stilgar saved me from the desert and raised me like his daughter. Feeding, clothing and cuddling me. You have done much the same, claiming me as your sister and teaching me to fight like a Fedaykin amongst other things. So tell me Chani, by your logic - am I Fremen or an outsider.” You held her gaze awaiting her answer. She looked down with a frown, before answering.

“You are Fremen. You learned the way of our people.” she says with certitude.

You put a hand on her cheek “I am both. He too shall learn, much like I did. I know you and Stilgar will advise him - just like you did me.” You finished gently. 

“You truly live up to your name.” She said with a smile, before getting up and extending a hand to you. “Now come, the others are waiting for us and I haven’t had a proper meal in three weeks.

———

Dinner had been a very interesting affair. You got the chance to get a better look at the duo, more the boy than his mother - as her back had been turned to you. That only served to increase your curiosity and you found yourself oddly disappointed when Stilgar came to collect her. 

If you thought Chani was against them, this was nothing compared to the way Shishakli felt. The badmouthing, paired with the sight of the boy who was desperately trying to ignore the stares and the taunting comments had effectively cut your appetite and forced you to excuse yourself to go on a walk. 

You’d been wandering for a while, not paying attention to where you had ventured when you bumped into someone coming from the hallway to your left. It was only your quick Fedaykin reflexes that allowed you to grab her before she could fall. 

“I’m so sorry.” You said and as you settled on the face of the woman standing in front of you, you recognized her to be the woman outsider. A slight movement of her hand caused your attention to deflect to her growing belly. “Shai-Hulud strike me! Are you okay? I should have been more mindful of where I was going. Please sit for a moment.” You gently guided her to a resting corner that was often used for prayer. 

“It’s okay, no harm no foul.” Replied the woman as you both sat down. “I am afraid I got lost. I tried to find my way after meeting with Stilgar, but these hallways all look similar to me.” She said quietly. 

You were finally able to get a good look at her and two things stood out to you. She was insanely beautiful and the sadness that covered her features looked like it was swallowing her whole. 

“I’d be more than happy to help you find your way back to your son.” You said as you stood up and she followed suit gratefully.

“Thank you, Stilgar left pretty quickly and I didn’t get the chance to ask for directions.” She explained as you began to guide her towards her intended destination. 

“He means well, but he is a bit scatterbrained at times.” You responded with a smile. 

“I’m beginning to see that. I would’ve asked someone, but most people here look at me a certain way.” You looked at her from the corner of your eyes and saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“You have to understand, that they’ve never met anyone like you and are weary of outsiders.” You explained as neutral as possible, not letting your need to protect your people get in the way. 

“I do understand,” she responded, probably sensing that she had hit a nerve. She was a Bene Gesserit after all. “It’s only normal under the circumstances, but still, it stings a bit.” She finished quietly. “You are different.” You inclined your head, signalling you were listening, but keeping your eyes forward. “I sense no distrust in you. You have only treated me with kindness so far. The only other person who has done that has been Stilgar.” She finished 

“That’s one of the qualities that makes my father such a great leader. As for me, I believe that everyone should be given trust and respect until proven otherwise,” you said proudly.

“You’re Stilgar’s daughter?” She asked with veiled surprise. 

“Adoptive, yes. My name is Y/n, but my people call me Amela,” you explain. 

“Y/n.” She whispers as if testing the way your name rolled off her tongue (rather well). “I’m Jessica. Amela means ‘One who hopes’, does it not? That’s a beautiful name.” You got a weird feeling in your stomach at her compliment. 

The rest of the way was completed in silence as you both were lost in your thoughts. Her more than you, as you couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering to her. After a few turns, you arrived at the communal area where you had been eating. 

“Mother!” You looked to see the other outsider approaching you at a hurried pace. “Where have you been? I was worried sick.” He said as he finally reached the both of you.

“I got lost after meeting Stilgar. Y/n here was kind enough to guide me back.” She said gesturing to you, and the suspicious look he had been giving you wavered. 

“Thank you for that. I’m Paul.” He said, extending his hand. You accepted the foreign greeting before letting go.

As you stepped away, you noticed your father in the distance and it suddenly occurred to you that you had missed him. 

“I should go greet Stilgar.” You say as you step away. Before you could leave completely you spared Jessica one last glance. “Welcome to the Sietch”. 

————

The next time you saw her, she was the Reverend Mother. You hadn’t been one of those who’d waited outside the cave where she met with the previous Reverend Mother, the thought of her potentially not surviving the ordeal made a cold sweat travel down your back. 

You were sitting in a corner in the communal area, quietly working on a defective fremkit, when you felt a figure looming over you. 

“Glad to see you survived drinking worm piss.” You said in a teasing tone. 

“Barely.” She said as she took the greeting as an invitation to claim the seat next to you. “Are you some kind of engineer?” She asked as she watched you work on fixing the fremkit. 

“I’m a Fedaykin by trade. Fixing things is just a pastime.” You explained. 

“How come you’re not outside with the others?” 

“They’re more than capable of dealing with the spice harvesters. Besides, from what I hear, your son seems to be more than enough extra help.” You closed the fremkit and handed it to her. “A gift” You explained. 

“I doubt I’ll need it, but thank you,” she says thankfully.

Her response reminded you of a conversation that you had with your father. “I intended to go find you after I finished here actually. You said as you fully focused your attention on her. “I’ve been assigned as your personal guard, by Stilgar.” you watched her for any discomfort as you uttered the words. 

“That is a bit useless. I’m sure you’ve heard of the weirding way. Much more effective than any fighting taught across the universe.” she said with disdain. 

“I’ll try not to take offence to that. Fedaykin’s fighting skills should not be discarded,” you said slightly colder than you intended. “I don’t see how me protecting you is any different from the treatment you had as a Duke’s bound concubine. But if it’s my presence that makes you feel unsettled, I can promise to not let myself be seen.” she went to argue, but the look on your face must have dissuaded her. 

“Fine, but I still think this is a waste of your time.” she relented and you let a satisfied smile appear on your face.

—-------------

For weeks, you followed the Reverend Mother around. Watching as she continued her Bene Gesserit propaganda amongst your people. You should have been angry at her brainwashing your loved ones, but you couldn’t help but focus on her more appealing qualities. 

Her beauty for one. The way she walked, sometimes seductively, sometimes like a fearless woman. You also grew protective of her, admonishing anyone who dared to utter negative words about her. And when the day had been long and the weight of her responsibilities and precognition seemed to crush her, you felt the urge to take her in your arms and tell her that you would take care of it all. But you couldn’t; you could only watch and make sure she was safe physically. 

You didn’t talk much, just like you had promised; and she did a good job at acting like you didn’t exist unless necessary. A hard task since you had been given a room in her yali. It had been a month since you’d been appointed as her guard when your relationship took a more personal turn. 

It had been a particularly long day. News from the Fedaykins had come of another successful mission, but many had been lost. Too many. Every time we received news that Paul was still alive, she cradled her belly and let out a breath. She had spent most of the day mumbling to herself, or rather her daughter. Something she seemed to do more when she was anxious. You wish she’d talk to you instead.

You were in deep sleep when a scream had you immediately jumping to your feet and running to her room, your Crysknife drawn, ready to defend your lady. You arrived and quickly surveyed the room for any imminent danger, when you saw none - you approached the bed where the Reverend Mother was trashing about. 

“Reverend Mother!” still she didn’t wake up as you avoided getting hit in the face by her wild arms. “My lady! Jessica!” finally, her eyes snapped open and she looked around in panic, before meeting your worried eyes. 

Once she did, she burst into tears. “It’s too much.” you didn’t think twice before gathering her in your arms. You understood what she meant by that. You’ve seen the toll her new position had taken on her in the past month. 

Your heart broke for her and you felt more useless than ever. You cursed the Bene Gesserit for making her this way, you cursed the Harkonnens for having disrupted her life, you cursed Paul - for whom she was doing all this, you cursed Stilgar for having entrusted her into this position, but above all - you cursed yourself for not being able to do something about it. As she cried, so did you. You who had been taught not to give your water away - you let your tears fall freely for Jessica, as you let yourself echo her pain and sorrow. 

“I’m sorry. Shh, I’m so sorry. I’m here.” you repeated these words like a litany as you held her. 

Eventually, her sobs turned to sniffles, and to hiccups before she fell asleep. You don’t know how long you stayed watching over her like a vigil. Sometimes she would whimper in her sleep and you’d pat her back softly until she was calm again. Soon, sleep also claimed you, and you fell asleep where you sat on the floor with your hand in hers, and your back against the nightstand. 

When you woke in the morning, it was in a very soft bed. The pillows smelled of something fresh. You’d heard about a place in the universe that was full of greenery and water. They called it a forest. You think this is what that must have smelled like. This is the type of comfort that it must have brought. You didn’t want to move, but when you remembered the event of the night, you couldn’t get up fast enough as you ran around to find the older woman. 

Your heart was beating in your chest, chastising yourself for having been sleeping so deeply. 

“You’re awake,” you turned around to see her coming out of the bathroom and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up, I thought-” You shook your head to get rid of the bad thoughts. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up after last night. Besides, it wouldn’t do any good for my bodyguard to be falling asleep on her feet.” she teased slightly, you kept your face neutral, still trying to get your heart to calm down. 

“I’m sorry”

“Thank you” 

You both spoke at the same time and you looked at her in confusion. 

“Thank you for what?”

“Why are you sorry?”

This time you allowed myself a smile to accompany hers. 

“You first, my lady.” You said gracefully 

“I am saying thank you for the comfort you provided last night,” she hesitated, before adding “For this past month, really.” she finished almost bashfully. A look you hadn’t seen on her face before. 

“I haven’t done anything worth acknowledging. Not last night, and not these past weeks. All I’ve done is follow you around.” You shrug. 

She crossed the room in three long strides before taking your hands in hers softly. 

“I know it’s been hard at times to watch me work. You don’t agree with how I’ve been spreading my doctrines - but I’ve never caught any judgment, hatred or disgust from you. You’ve been more of a companion for me.” she looked to the side and frowned, before capturing your eyes once again. “The path I’m on can be lonely, I’ve been thrown into a new culture and position with no time to adapt, collect my bearings or mourn. I’m scared, terrified actually; but it’s been a little easier with you watching my back.” she finished.

“I’ll always have your back,” You mumbled earnestly

“I know.” she taps her head slightly with a finger, to show that she can see it, and you laugh. Of course, she can. “This is only the beginning of something beautiful for you and I.” the way she looks at you causes heat to rush to your cheeks and to look away from her mesmerizing eyes. 

“What does that mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh. 

“All in due time. But please, don’t give your water away for me again,” she says softly, her hand on your cheek as if catching the tears that had fallen last night. 

A shiver runs down your back. “It’s mine to give.” 

———

Part 2

A/N: Like, share and subscribe to my chanel teehee 🥰

[justmeinadaze]

Created A Monster Part 2 (Steddie X Kas Y/N)

A/N: Totally new for me here. Reader kind of takes more control in this one but I'm not calling it Sub/Dom dynamics. As someone going through some shit right now, this is kinda something I needed with the angst and their strong need to please her <3.

Enjoy!

Part 1

I can also leave it here or add another part. Up to you!

Warning: Steddie & Kas (vampire) Reader, SMUT, I read that bats give off pheromones so that was KINDA utilized here but all three here are consenting, dirty talk, boys desperate for her praise, etc. FLUFF, reader has memories of the guys that she forgot thanks to Vecna, it shows the love they had/have for each other. Memories are in black bold.

ANGST (because I'm me), she does insult them a lot through the beginning and they do what they can to make her remember them. The feels are abound. There is a cameo from the envision they have of her from part 1. She's always represented with italicized font. She mentions being hit by Vecna which makes the guys mad (rightfully!). There is a moment in the upside down near the end where Vecna expresses disappointment in her. That world is in red font. Cliffhanger ending.

Word Count: 6099

"Got you on your knees, beggin', "Mommy, please?" Girl I used to be, now she isn't me, say, "R.I.P."

Call a doctor I think I created a monster She's got a psycho inside her But I think that I kinda like her."

After removing your armor, they hastily tied you to a pillar and waited for you to wake. 

“I watched her die in my arms, Steve. I held her till she took her last breath and even then people had to drag us away from her. How is she here?”

“I don’t know. She looks different…harder. She was always a badass but…’My master sends his regards.’ What can that mean?”

“In D&D there’s a character called Kas. He’s a solider with a sword who Vecna grants eternal life and in turn he becomes his right-hand man killing Vecna’s enemies.”

 “But then why would she come after us?”

“I mean we did help take him out—”

“No, asshole. I mean why is she, Y/N, coming after us, the men she loves?”

Growling catches their attention as your eyes flutter open and you take in your surroundings. 

“Sweetheart.”, Eddie coos as he holds up his hands in surrender to show he’s not a threat. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine but you aren’t. As soon as I get out of here, I’m going to rip you apart.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you.

“Do you know who we are?”

“Steven Harrington, the former pathetic king of Hawkins who helped hurt my master by setting him on fire and Edward Munson who helped by distracting his babies so they couldn’t protect him. Still on the run, freak?”

Their eyes darkened as they listened to you speak. This wasn’t the girl they fell in love. You would have never said things like this to them before. 

“And who are you then?”

Your body straightens as you raise your chin in defiance. 

“I am my master’s right-hand and his strongest knight. I protect him and kill any of his enemies that he asks of me.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re his bitch?”

Baring your fangs, you hiss Eddie’s way causing both men to jump back before regaining their composure.

“My master takes care of me. He saved me when I was left bleeding to death on the concrete after you and friends tried to kill me!”

“Is that what he told you? No. No, honey, that’s not what happened. You were on our side of that fight.”

“My master said you would lie.”, you growl.

“HE killed you, Y/N. Him and his ‘babies’.”, the metalhead responded in an equally angry tone. “You were supposed to come back with us but you sacrificed yourself by distracting those things. THEY pinned you down and THEY bit into you. You died in my arms, sweetheart. How can you not remember this? I was fucking screaming at you—”

“Y/n! No, no, no, no, no. Stay with me, baby. Don’t you fucking close those beautiful eyes. Henderson! Go get Steve. Fucking hurry!”

“Be nice, a-asshole.”, you try to chuckle. “Eddie…I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, ok? I’m right here and Steve is on his way. We’re gonna get you to a hospital. I just need you to keep talking with me.”

“I lo-ove you both…so much.”

“Hey, don’t you do that. Don’t fucking tell me goodbye!”

“It’s not goodbye… it’s—”

“…See you later.”

When you cut off Eddie’s story, his eyes locked with yours and for just a moment he saw the old you reflecting back within them. Their tiny victory was short lived however when your features hardened once more and you spit in their direction. 

“Let me go now and I promise to kill you quickly.”

“What should we do?”, Steve asked his friend, ignoring your threat. “We can’t tell the others about her because then they may want to kill her.”

“Maybe we can take turns watching her and talking to her? Get her to remember who she is.”

“And what if that’s a lost cause?”

Both men glanced your way as you tried to pull out of your binds.

“Then…we kill her.”

####################

While Steve laid in bed, he stared at the ceiling above completely unable to sleep as the events of the night you died run through his mind. 

He, Nancy, and Robin ran to where Eddie was clutching your limp body to his chest as he sobbed. 

“No! NO! What happened?!”, Steve screamed as he slid to his friend’s side. 

“She didn’t come through with us when we went back through the gate. She stayed behind to distract the bats and fight.”

“O-Ok. Ok, um, need to get her…get her to a…a hospital.”

“Steve—”

“NO!”, he shouted cutting Robin off as he reached over to pry you from the metalhead’s grasp. Dustin placed his hand on his shoulder when it took him a moment to let you go. “Honey?” His voice cracked when he felt how cold your skin was as he cupped your cheek in his palm. “Y/N, come back, baby. We won. We beat him. Vecna’s gone. We-We can go home.”

When your body remained lifeless in his arms, he desperately shook you.

“WAKE UP, Y/N! PLEASE!”

The realm around them began to quake almost knocking them off their feet. 

“We need to go NOW!”, Nancy instructed. 

“Ok, we-we need to lift her and—”

“We can’t Steve. We’ll barely be able to get Dustin back through and—”

“I’M NOT LEAVING HER HERE!”

“Neither am I.”, Eddie growled angrily at the thought. 

“I don’t blame you for having to leave me behind.”, the vision of you coos softly from beside him. “Maybe if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be in the living room right now.”

“That’s not you.”, Steve whispered. “Whoever that is, is what Vecna made her to be.”

“Hm. That’s one way to look at it. What if a version of me was hidden there the whole time and you didn’t know.”

“Please. The girl we knew would never let anyone tell her what to do.”

“Oh wow. Is little Stevie disappointed?” When he rolled away from you, your light laugh echoed in his ears. “You always did like those nights when I took control, didn’t you?”

***

“He’s talking to himself in there.”, you say sarcastically to the metalhead sitting on the counter in front of you strumming his guitar. 

“Yeah…he does that. He’s actually talk to you; a version of you.”

“Hm. We’ll that’s pathetic.” When he doesn’t respond or react to your words, your try to pull at your binds to no avail. “Do you also talk to a figment of your imagination?”

“Sometimes but I go to your grave to do that so I seem less insane.”, Eddie sighs as he readjusts his instrument. 

When his fingers start making a melody, you freeze as you listen to the notes. 

“I know that.”

A small smirk paints his lips as he plays a bit louder but softly murmurs some lyrics. 

“In touch with the ground I'm on the hunt, I'm after you Smell like I sound, I'm lost in a crowd And I'm hungry like the wolf.”

“You always loved that song. I would tease you because you would stop anything you were doing to watch the music video if it came on.”, he chuckles at the memory. 

“It was the fedora hats. Gave off this Indiana Jones vibe I always found attractive.”, the image of you beside Eddie laughed along with him. 

“We surprised you once by buying the outfits they wear and dressing like the band for Halloween. You felt bad because you thought we should all match so we ran to the corner store and bought you this headband with ears and a tail you could clip to your jeans. As soon as we stepped outside you howled real loud like a wolf.”

Eddie’s head hung at the memory, desperately missing those times when you made him unbelievably happy. 

“Baby, it’s ok to have hope that you can bring me back. You know it will kill you if you both don’t try.”, you try to soothe as you step closer to him. “It also ok if I don’t but you accept this new…powerful…stronger…sexier version of me.”

The metalhead snorts out another laugh as he glances towards the chained-up version of you to find your black eyes watching him curiously. 

“Oh come on. I know the armor and attitude got you all riled up.”

“Am I turning you on, freak, or the imaginary friend you both talk to?” A wide toothy smile stretched across your face as you inhaled through your nose. “The other asshole is turned on to if it makes you feel better.”

Eddie listened to you manically laugh as he jumped down from the counter so his friend could take over watching you. He couldn’t handle your snarky attitude anymore. 

#################

“Hey, man. You alright?”, Steve asked as his best friend sleepily came down the hallway rubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah. I think I slept for like a total of 20 minutes.” Eddie’s gaze shifts to your sleeping frame that was now sitting on the floor with your head resting on your shoulder. “When did she knock out?”

“Um, around 6am. I was going to ask you; it seems like she’s a vampire like you said. She has the fangs and hates the sun.”

“Hm and the silver chains seem to be keeping her in place. She’s probably going to be hungry soon. I wonder how she eats. I mean it’s not like Vecna is the kind of asshole to give her blood.”

“Ed…she’s killed a lot of people, remember?”

“Steve?”

The sound of you calling out the man’s name grabbed their attention as the metalhead slowly stepped closer to you. Your eyes were still closed but your breathing had gotten shallow as your head lolled to the other side. 

“Y/N?”

“Steve…Eddie’s…missing…”

The former jock’s eyes widened at your words as the memory flashed through his mind. 

“STEVE! Did you see—”

“Yeah, baby, I did.”, he pants out as he runs around the Family Video counter to take you in his arms. 

“Eddie’s missing! We have to find him! He’s probably terrified and panicking.”

“He’s probably at another friend’s house.”, Robin suggested. “Do you know who else he could be with?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not missing anymore. You found me…you always did.”, he cooed. 

His ringed hand shook as he slowly reached for your cheek, breathing a heavy sigh of pleasure when his thumb caressed your cool skin. 

A low rumble left your chest and he promptly retracted when your eyes snapped open. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“You were having a memory.”

“One of your lies imprinted in my brain!”

Steve angerly kicked one of the lower cabinets before leaning against the counter. A thought crossed his mind and you both watched him as he ran to the tv, searching through the plethora of VHS’s before finding what he wanted. 

Standing back, he pushed a button on the remote and the sound of your laugh echoed through the apartment.

“Steve! I’m going to laugh if we play this back and you’ve been filming the wall the whole time!”

“Honey, the lens is pointing at us. How would it capture the wall?!”

“Here, maybe, if we squeeze closer together…”

“Eddie! You’re crushing my ribs!”, you whine as the metalhead pushes you three closer together. 

Their eyes scan you over as you watch the video in front of you and your whole demeanor softened. 

“You guys are so dumb.”, you giggle and sigh. 

“Yeah but you still love us.”

“Damn right.”, you coo as you tilt up to kiss Steve’s lips. “So why did you spend money on this bulky thing?”

“Because…a few years from now when we’re married and have our six to ten kids…” The boy smiled when you rolled your eyes and your palm reached up to pet Eddie’s curls as he laughed into your shoulder. “… we can look back on this and remember. Remember a time when we were done fighting monsters and villains. A time before I became some awesome businessman working with Robin and making a ton of money.”

“A time before I became a fucking rockstar and women were screaming my name.”

“Oh my god, Ed.”, you laugh before he grips your chin and turns you towards him. 

“I’m sure even then all I hear is you.”, Eddie smiles as he kisses your lips. “What about you, sweetheart? What will you be doing?”

You softly grin as you pull them closer. 

“I don’t know yet but as long as I’m with you two I know I’ll be happy.”

“…I know I’ll be happy.”

When your words echoed alongside the ones in the video, another pang of hope pierced their hearts. 

“Did we fake that? Or imprint the idea in your head?”, Steve asked trying to hide the pleading in his tone. “You loved us and we loved you.”

“So much.”, Eddie added. “Still do, baby.”

A tear fell down your cheek as your eyes stared into a void, fleeting subtly from left to right as if you were sifting through your brain trying to decipher what was real. 

“Leave me alone.”, you commanded in a soft tone as you hung your head. 

Nodding, they did what you ask, surprising even you when they didn’t try to argue back.

***

“Ed! Wake up, man. Something’s wrong.”

Eddie’s head shot up from the chair he had fallen asleep on as his friend began to shake him. 

“Wha--? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. She’s really clammy and growling.”

Without hesitation, he headed your way and carefully took you in. Your eyes were now fully black as your head leaned back against the wall and you panted heavily. Your shirt was damp against your chest as sweat fell from your temple and your stomach rumbled. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

When you didn’t answer, he stepped forward before abruptly pausing when you hissed his way. 

“Hungry.”

“O-Ok. Um, what do you eat? Do need blood?” As he began taking off his bracelets and rings, Steve grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “She needs to eat or she’ll die, Steve.”

“What if she kills you?”

“Then she kills me. I lost her once; I’m not losing her again.”

You blinked as you listened to them speak in such absolutes about you. Your master told you that they were vile, selfish men who left you for dead to save themselves. But then why were they offering to feed you? Why were they trying so hard to keep you around?

“Here, sweetheart, take what you need.” When he noticed you looking at the scars on his wrist, Eddie lightly chuckled. “My, uh, beauty wound.”

“I…have them…to.”

“Yeah.”, he sighed. “I tried to save you but those little fuckers were everywhere. They got me pinned before I could get to you but, um, thankfully Steve saved the day.”

“Y/N! Y/N, I’m coming, princess. Fuck! Let me—ugh!—let me go!”

You shook out his voice screaming inside your head as pain shot through your body and you growled. 

“Shit. Ok, come on, Y/N. Go ahead and eat.”, the metalhead instructed as he placed his wrist by your lips. His scent wafted into your nose as another memory filled your brain. 

“The fuck are you doing you, weirdo?”, Eddie teases when he feels you inhale and nuzzle into his neck while you were straddling his lap as he tried to read. 

“I like the way you smell.”

He cackles through his teeth making you smile as you hug him tighter. 

“I smell disgusting. I haven’t showered in like three days and you know I smoke like a chimney.”

Tilting back, you tenderly kiss his lips. 

“Its YOU. I love the way YOU smell.”

While you were lost in your head, Eddie couldn’t help but caress your cheek and to his pleasure you turned into his palm. 

Suddenly, your teeth sunk into his flesh making him wince as the other boy stepped forward before he held up his free hand to stop him. As you drained his blood his chocolate eyes flutter closed as he groaned, falling towards you as his palm shot out to catch himself against the wall. 

“Talk to me, Munson.”

When his friend didn’t respond, Steve swiftly jumped into action, yanking him from you so hard he fell to the floor. You loudly growled at the action, your wings expanding as you push forward and broke the chain around you. Tackling him to the ground, he did his best to fight against you but you were stronger as your fangs sunk into his neck. 

The former jock’s fight slowly left him as his panicked whimpers were replaced with hefty groans of need as his fingers reached up to lace in your hair. 

“Ok, now look.”

As you slowly open your eyes and see your reflection in the mirror, you let out a loud “HA!” as you cover your mouth to stifle the rest from escaping.  

“What?! You don’t like it?”, Steve teases with a big grin as his large hand lightly pats your floofy hair being held up currently by a ton of hairspray. “You said you wanted to look like Madonna in that one video and for some reason trusted me to accomplish that.”

“I just thought that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington would have some knowledge into hair.”

“Well, honey that was your mistake, not mine.” The boy’s laugh echoes through his always empty home as you gently hit his arm and he falls onto his back bringing you with him. “I still think you look beautiful.”

Your smile grows as you kiss his lips and he wraps his arms around you. 

“Eddie’s gonna have a field day though.”

“What?”, Steve asked breathlessly as he cupped your cheeks. “Keep going, baby. T-Take it. Take it all if you need to.”

At his words, a bunch of memories flash through your mind at once, overloading your brain as you tumble backwards on to the floor. 

“Whoa! What’s going on, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked as he hastily slid to your side. 

“I guess, um, we’re lab partners today?”, Steve forces a smile as he extends his hand to you. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

Eddie cautiously hands you a cigarette as he eyes you up and down as you both lean against the brick wall. “I’m Eddie…Eddie Munson. What’s your name?”

“Christ, I suck at this. The last person I said this to didn’t feel the same but…I don’t know…It’s just different…with you. What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is…I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart, so much. I never thought I’d ever feel this way about anyone.”

“STEVE! Oh my God! Are you alright? When you got pulled under again I got so scared. Oh, fuck you’re bleeding. Nancy, do you have anything we can wrap around him?”

“I’m buying you more time. Don’t worry, Eddie, you can spank me after we finish this.”

“Y/N! No! Baby, please! Y/N! Y/N! Y/N.” 

Both men covered their ear as you tilted your head back and screamed. Before either of them could do anything about it, your wings expanded and you flew out the window.

#################

“What happened?”, Dustin asked after Eddie silently opened their front door and he saw their destroyed apartment. “We, um, Mike, Nancy, Robin, and I have been trying to call you guys these past couple of days. Did something happen? Someone break in?”

“No…nothing happened.”, the metalhead responded sullenly as he threw himself down on the couch. 

The young boy’s eyes flicked to Steve who was seemingly fuming as he paced back and forth in their kitchen.

“Did you get cut?”, Dustin inquired as he gestured towards his friend’s neck. 

“She has to come back. We know she’ll come back. She’ll remember. She’ll remember. She’ll remember.”

“Ok, no. Something’s not right! Now tell me or—”

“Or what?”, the former jock snapped. “Or WHAT, Henderson?!” Thrown off guard by his tone, Dustin slowly backed towards the door as his friend stalked his way. “Nothing then? Didn’t think so.” After lightly shoving the boy’s chest, he slammed the door and went back into the kitchen to pace. 

“That was rude.”, the vision of you scolded.

“Fuck OFF.”

“Oooo Mr. Harrington… are you…needy?”, you cackle mockingly as he glares your way. “Hmmm. Who would have thought you were into biting?”

“I’m not…you…you did something…”

“Who? Vampire Kas me? Ha! To be fair, it’s been, what, five months since either of you have gotten any? Feeling me on your lap again probably kick started your cock, you bad boy.”

The sound of glass shatters loudly as Steve throws a plate against the wall towards the vision of you. 

“Would you calm the fuck down!?”, Eddie shouts. 

“Fuck you!! Fuck everybody!”

The metalhead rises to his feet and stomps towards his friend before shoving his chest. 

“I feel it to but you don’t see me screaming at hallucinations and throwing shit!”

“Ugh! What did she do, Munson?!”

“She’s a fucking vampire now, right? Bats give off pheromones… Don’t look at me like that, Harrington! I don’t see you coming up with anything better!”

As night fell, they did everything they could to distract themselves but images of you constantly clouded their mind way more than before. They barely even heard it when your feet landed on the tile in the kitchen and your wings retracted. 

When their eyes landed on you, they thought they were envisioning you again. Your hair was laying down against your shoulders along a clean white tank top with matching shorts. Slowly, you tip toed to the couch where Eddie was laying drenched in sweat. Silently, you grabbed the back of his hand and place his palm against your cheek as you keened into the feeling. 

When his eyes found yours, his eyebrows knitted together as he pushed up on his elbow and his thumb ran along the purple bruise under your eye. 

“What happened, princess?”

Steve crawled from his place on the floor near the hallway till he was right beside you both and used his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear.

“Did I do that? Did we…?”

You shook your head as your gaze averted from theirs. 

“I…I asked my master…too many questions…”

The boy growled as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled towards the sword he had defeated you with on the ground. 

“I helped kill that fucker once, I can do it again.” 

Steve blinked in surprise when you were suddenly in front of him, gently prying the weapon from his hand. As he fell back against the wall, you fell into him and he limply circled his arms around you. 

“I’m sorry, honey. We’re not all…all here…”

Tenderly grabbing his hands, you placed them higher up your back before the sound of your wings expanding filled the apartment causing Eddie to roll off the couch and stagger your way. 

“No, NO, sweetheart, please…don’t go…”

Shaking your head, you place him beside his friend and lightly flap your wings their way. That feeling of need washed over them again causing both men to groan. 

“You were too close.”, you say as you gesture behind you. “It’s meant for enemies…to defuse a situation…I panicked…too many memories.”, you whisper sullenly. 

The metalhead tugs on your wrist, bringing you to him as he pushes your head against him. When your lips pressed against one of his tattoos, he practically melted, moaning at the action. Steve followed with a mewl of his own when your hand reached out to run along the hair that was sticking to his sweaty chest. 

A prominent whine escaped them as you took a few steps back with Eddie falling to his knees and crawling as he tried remaining as close to you as possible. Your eyelids fluttered as his lips trailed from your feet, along your calf, and up your thigh till he reached your stomach. 

After petting the long-haired boy’s head, you sauntered past them both down the hallway, pausing to beckon them with your finger and both men immediately follow. Laying down on the bed, they kiss and run their tongues along any part of your skin they can reach from your neck to the tips of your fingers.

Each pant and heavy whimper that left their mouths knocked something loose in your mind that turned you on more and more. 

“That’s it, Eddie, baby. Harder, please.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can feel you in my stomach.”

“Oh my God, pretty girl. You’re so fucking tight. You take us both so well.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Ride my cock just like that.”

Lightly guiding his head with your fingers in his hair, you maneuvered Steve between your legs and helped him pull down your shorts while Eddie did the same with your top. 

The metalhead promptly latched onto your tit as the pretty boy pressed gentle kisses against your pussy lips till his tongue licked a long stripe through your folds. 

“Oh fuck, honey. I-I never thought I’d be able to taste you again. Still so fucking sweet.”

As his face fell back in your cunt and his mouth wrapped around your clit, your fingers softly played with his hair.

“That’s it, Steve. Such a good boy for me making me feel so good.”

Jealousy coursed through Eddie at the encouragement, desperately wanting it as well. Rings dug into your flesh as the long-haired boy sucked and nibbled on your breast a bit harder causing your back to arch into the man below. 

“Aw—mmm—does Eddie need some attention to? Fuck, your both gonna make me cum.” 

Both men hurried their rhythm just as desperate to hear you come undone and as you tumbled over the edge, you clung to them tightly as continuous moans fell from your lips. Grinning drunkenly, it took you some time to come down from your high but when you did you were met with animalist grunts as they pushed at each other. 

“You just ate her out! Why do you get to fuck her first?

“Because I can!”

A gruff growl left your throat as you pushed up and gripped Steve’s chin between your fingers roughly. 

“Don’t be greedy, Steve Harrington. You’re both mine and you’ve had a taste. It’s his turn.”

The boy nodded when you let him go, pressing his lips to yours.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You’re right. You’re right. Forgive me, baby, please.” At his last sentence, Steve’s voice cracked in pain and in return you kissed his forehead. “Thank you. I’m sorry, Ed. I’m so sorry.”

The metalhead curtly nodded as if to say he forgave his friend and when he turned to focus on you, he was rewarded with your legs open wide as your hand rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Come here, Eddie. I can help make you feel better.”

After climbing the length of your body, his beautiful, glassy eyes locked with yours as he slowly guided his cock into your warm core making him loudly groan. 

“Ahhh my god, Y/N. Y-You feel…” He tried to control the strain in his tone but Eddie was so overwhelmed by the feeling of you as he delivered small, pointed thrusts that had little pants falling from your lips. 

“How do I feel, baby? Tell me.”

His long hair tickled your cheek as his head fell beside yours and your legs wrapped around his waist pushing him closer to you.

“You feel so fucking good. I missed you so much, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea. I’m sorry I failed to bring you back. I broke our promise.”

“You’re safe with me, pretty girl, and I promise nothing is ever going to hurt you as long as I’m here.”

Clinging to him, your lips tenderly kiss the skin along his shoulder as Eddie’s pace hastens and his hips slam aggressively into your own. 

“It’s ok, baby. You did everything y-you could.” You tried to say that as confidently as you could but the truth of the matter was you just didn’t remember. These past couple of days, your brain had been sifting through two timelines and it felt like sometimes you were viewing someone else’s life. But they were hurting and you could feel the sincerity when they spoke. 

Your master told you he loved you and would protect you; that he would never lie to you. But when you asked him questions about your memories, he became angry.

“WHY ARE YOU QUESTIONING ME?! After everything I’ve done for you, Y/N. You let them get in your head didn’t you? Made you weak? I knew I should I have left you on the concrete.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie cooed as he lifted on to his elbow to look you over when he heard you start to sniffle. “Are you ok? Am I hurting you?”

Shaking your head, you encourage him with your palms to keep moving. His lips gently press a kiss to your forehead and down to your cheek as finds his rhythm again.

“Just l-like that, sweetheart, fuck. Your cock is so deep, Eddie.”, you whisper in his ear. “I love you.” 

Your eyes roll back as the coil snaps and your nails drag almost painfully down his back but the metalhead doesn’t care as he chases his high, falling flat on top of you as he rolls his hips and releases his seed inside of you.

“Good boy, baby. It’s Steve’s turn now, ok?”

Lazily nodding, he rolled to away from you as the other boy grabbed your arm and pulled you his chest while he laid on his side. After lifting your leg and hooking his arm under your knee, you helped guide his length into your sensitive hole causing your back to arch off the bed as you moaned. 

“Mmm—Stevie, oh my God—you’re so big. Stretching me open, baby boy.”

“Fuck.”, he groaned as he steadily pumped his hips. “Look at me, honey, please. I n-need to see your face.” When you craned your neck to do what he asked, his palm grazed your forehead, moving your hair back so he could see everything with no obstruction. “I missed you, Y/N. F-Fucking—mmm—dreamed about you every night.”

You mewled as he pounded into you and his arms abruptly pulled your body tighter against him.

“I tried, Y/N. I prayed you would never see the monsters in this town. I tried to—mmph—shield you.”

“Steven! What aren’t you telling me!” The man’s head hangs as he sits in his bedroom after you and Eddie picked him up from the hospital after the mall caught fire. “Baby…look at your face. That’s not just from a fire. Someone hurt you… Please…”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”, he murmured under his breath. 

Reaching out with your fingers to move his hair, Steve winces as a tear falls from his wounded eye. 

"Try us.”

Your fingers thread through his as his rhythm picks up and his cock abuses that spongey spot inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, baby. W-We weren’t fast enough…”

“It’s not your fault. Make me cum, Steve, please.” Pushing up on his elbow, his eyes met yours as he did what you asked and your mouth fell open in a silent moan as he thrust into you harder. “I love you to.”

Lips crashed to yours as your body trembled and you came with him following as he warmed your insides.

Both men clung to you as the kissed along your sweaty skin, thankful that you were between them once again. 

################

Vecna sighs from his spot in his crumbling home those insignificant kids tried to burn down. Idiots. He was slowly getting stronger and soon they would feel his wrath. Until then he had to depend on you; a friend and girlfriend to the people he despised. You had proven useful these past few months but when you disappeared, he thought they had killed you and began moving forward with his plan without you. 

When you flew in with half your armor missing and blood dripping from your mouth…he was disappointed. 

“What took you so long? I thought you were dead.”

Your head tilted at his aloof tone as you fought the urge to cry.

“I’m sorry, Master. Eddie and Steve were much harder to dispatch than I thought.”

“Hm. Eddie and Steve, huh? I thought they were the freak and asshole. At least that what’s you called them.”

“I-I-I…”

“Fitting men who hurt you and left you to die.”

“Did they?”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud but you still stood up straighter when he turned to face you, his intimidating eyes taking you in as he stepped forward. 

“Are you questioning me?”

“No…N-No, sir. I just…I’ve been having these…flashes and—”

Vecna’s large hand across your face cut you off as he smacked you hard and you fell to the ground. He reprimanded you and you flew away to your “home” to rest so you could go back out when night fell again. You thought he didn’t know your secrets but he always did. This WHOLE WORLD was his home. 

He felt the wind of your wings when you descended to the apartment building you felt safe in for some reason. The vine that you moved out of the way as you opened the window to a “random” apartment and curled up on a dusty bed. The pin of the thumb tac you put in the wall to replace the generic frames that were there with a banner from the trailer you explored next to where you woke up. 

You didn’t know what “Corroded Coffin” was but for some reason the design gave you peace. After removing your armor, you would sift through your closet for clothes you lifted from that same trailer and another house a few miles down the way. Dozens of polo shirts and band tee’s that were much bigger than your tiny frame but they calmed you as soon as you put them on. 

You had hidden little Knick knacks in the drawer nearby hoping one day you’d get the courage to ask your master why they felt so important to you. There was a 20-sided die beside a book with notes about dragons and dungeons and hair gel that smelled familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where. You had four metal rings that sometimes you put on your fingers as you slept feeling like someone was holding your hand in the dark when you did. In the house you found the polos in, there was a pair of sunglasses on the dresser that you ignored at first because there was no sun here but something in your stomach tugged at you to bring them with you. 

“Weak”, Vecna thought every single time. 

When morning came around and you didn’t come home again he shifted from disappointed to annoyed. Maybe he needed to do this particular task himself. He still wasn’t as strong as he was before but he had enough strength to take out two measly men. 

You would learn…one way or another…

****

You gasp as the strong feeling that woke you slowly recedes but are hit with the peak of sunlight that penetrates the through the crack in the shades causing you to hiss as you jump out of bed and push your back to a corner. 

“Whoa! Ok, baby. It’s ok!”, Steve calms as he hastily throws off the covers and runs to fully cover the part of the window that had sun coming through. 

Eddie slides down to his knees in front of you as his eyes look you over with concern. 

“What’s going on, Y/N? What happened?”

“We…we…we have to…I have to go… I have to…”

“Sweetheart, it’s noon. The sun will hurt you—”

“Ok, then you need to leave. Right now. RIGHT NOW!”

As you stand up and start to push forward, ring covered fingers keep you in place before you growl and the man lets you go holding his palms in the air.  

“Just talk to us, honey. What’s going on? Let us help you.”, Steve pleads as he takes his place at his friend’s side. 

“He’s coming for you because I failed.”

“Who?”

Your worried gaze shifts between them both as you sigh and shake your head, annoyed that they don’t already know. 

“Who’s coming for us, baby?”, Eddie asked again as he stepped towards you and carefully pushed some of your hair behind your ear. Closing your eyes, you turn your cheek into his palm and kiss the skin as you place your hand over the back of his own. 

“My master.”

###############

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