#ashes of memory more like ashes of gays

[butterflies-and-mirrors]

I still find it very funny that in the ashes of memory storyline when Alice, Orpheus and Frederick were in the racecourse and Frederick pulled out a gun on them Orpheus told Alice that he must be experienced because he has bruises on his palms but the thing is. Frederick was wearing gloves at all times whenever he left his room because of his condition so like. How did Orpheus know he had bruises on his palms. Is there something you want to share with the class Mr. Novelist?

[carewyncromwell]

[Marvel AU] Jacob Cromwell/Duncan Ashe Moodboard

featuring Jacob as Steve Rogers “Captain America”  and Duncan as Bucky Barnes “the Winter Soldier”

“...Jacob...?”

“You know me now? Or do you?”

“...Your mother’s name was Lane. Your sister was Carewyn. You called her ‘Pip.’ ...You never shut up about her -- how much you missed her, how much you’d make her proud. You wrote her a letter every morning at eight, no matter where you were on the front -- even in a pitch-black tank with nothing but my lighter to help you see. ...You...loved her more than anyone...”

“Nice facts. Did you collect those from hacking security cameras, or interrogating other targets?”

“Oh, for fu -- Jacob, it’s me! I know the Soldier’s a good actor, and I’m pretty damn sure I know what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s told you about me. Master of disguise -- able to blend in like a chameleon, fluent in seven languages -- the ultimate assassin? ...That was me, but -- it wasn’t. It wasn’t really me. But right now, I...right now, this is me, Jacob. ...Look in my eyes. You know it’s me.”

“...If it is really you...then tell me why you saved me, from the river.”

“Wha -- oh, come on! I -- you know why! You have to know why. How could you not, when you let me just keep hitting you, over and over again -- when you must’ve known I wouldn’t actually be able to go through with it -- ?”

“I didn’t know that. You’re a genetically-enhanced assassin, Ashe -- I knew full well you could kill me, if you tried. ...I just knew I wouldn’t be able to hurt you. No matter what you’ve done, no matter what orders I was given -- no matter what you might do to me...I would never be able to hurt you, Ashe.”

“Jacob...”

“Ashe...I lost you once. I’m not going to lose you again.”

“...Jacob... ...You goddamn idiot...it’s all the same, for me.”

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (4)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: soft!regina, fluff, pining, LOTS of pining, regina is falling for the reader hard, reader is a gay mess, regina is a lesbian who’s terrible at emotions. (don’t get too used to fluffy chapters this is the calm before the storm…)

(this part 4 of the series, read part 3 here)

you end up replaying gretchen’s party in your head over the weekend. you can’t seem to stop thinking about the look in regina’s eyes when she saw you and dani talking. it was the angriest you’ve ever seen her, and then afterwards she just pretended as if it never occurred. yet it was engraved into your brain like a branded memory; permanently there for you to think about at night.

you couldn’t figure out why regina was so enthralled by you… if you could call it that. as you started to become more aware of what dani said on friday night, how you were regina’s “puppy”… it caused you to overthink a few things. this entire time you thought regina was getting closer to you all of a sudden because she enjoyed your company. now you feared it was because she just wanted some new pet to play with.

you and regina had developed a routine on the nights you couldn’t convince your parents to allow you to stay the night. she’d call you, and you’d talk for hours; sometimes till you fell asleep. though saturday night you used a flimsy excuse of being at your grandmas house; she new it was a lie. then on sunday, you barely texted her at all. she knew something was up right away, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

as soon as you walked out of your house to catch the bus on monday, regina’s jeep was parked on the side of the street. your heart immediately began to flutter as it usually does whenever you see the blonde. she rolls down her window, and you catch a glimpse of how gorgeous she looks. your legs have a mind of their own as you begin to walk up to her car, furrowing your brows. “don’t you usually pick up gretchen on mondays?” you question, and she shrugs, flashing you that colgate smile that makes your knees week. “she can take the bus. get in, loser.” she taunts you.

you can’t help but sheepishly smile as you get into her passenger side. “she’s gonna freak out. she was texting the group chat all weekend about how her parents found puke in her grandmas ashes.” you giggle, and regina lets out this strained laugh that isn’t her usual one. “yeah, i tried calling you but you were busy.” she grumbles, and you tense up slightly. “and you were dodging my texts. what gives?” she asks, as she begins to drive. she doesn’t turn on music like she usually does, only showing you how serious she is.

“i just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on friday.” you start cautiously, and she frowns, an agitated expression etching itself onto her features. “seriously? that fucking bitch deserved a slap, y/n.” she defends herself, and you flash her a look. “i’m not talking about the slap… i mean, i’m actually surprised you didn’t do worse.” you joke softly, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the air. regina lets out this tiny exhale; if it weren’t so quiet in the car you may not have heard it. that’s when you take in how wrought up she seems, as if she’s been stressing over something.

surely she wasn’t stressing over you avoiding her for two days… right?

“then what is it? why are you being weird?” she questions demandingly, sounding genuinely upset. “because i can’t stop thinking about what dani said!” you huff out, sounding the most frustrated she’s ever heard. upon seeing your exasperated demeanor, she calms down slightly. realizing something was actually wrong. “y/n, everything that loser said was bullshit—“ she starts, but you cut her off, “she was right though! i am such a different person now and it’s only been a month.” you counterpoint, causing her to bite her tongue.

regina hates to be interrupted, but she really enjoys you and whatever it is that’s budding between the two of you. she doesn’t want to lose it because some stupid jock said something at a lame party she only went to in order to save face. “and you don’t like who you are? you don’t enjoy the way we’ve been hanging out all the time?” regina questions, you shake your head. “i love spending time with you… but dani called me your puppy, gina. is that seriously what people think of me now? is that what you think of me?” you ask persistently.

the blonde shakes her head rapidly in disagreement. “i don’t think of you as my puppy… just because you have the qualities of one, doesn’t mean i consider you one.” she tells you, and you frown. “how do i have the qualities of a puppy?” you can’t help but ask, and she shrugs. “loyal, obedient, always happy to see me.” she flashes you that infamous smile, and you roll your eyes in response. “y/n, dani is just jealous because you’re hanging out with me and not her. she only said that to get under your skin, and clearly it worked.” she states, and your silence causes her to reach for your hand.

her touch sends shockwaves throughout your body. “don’t be angry at me over some comment a dumb jock made because you wouldn’t go into a basement with her.” she practically pleads, and you know it’s the closest thing you’ll get to any sort of comfort from regina george. “besides, don’t you like hanging out with me?” she questions, and you throw her a look that says “are you serious”. “of course i like hanging out with you, you’re like my favorite person.” you admit, and regina feels something tugging on the heartstrings she didn’t even realize she had.

“then stop listening to what anyone else says.” this sounds more like a command, so you find yourself nodding dumbly. your brain always goes fuzzy whenever she tells you to do something, and the only coherent thought is to do whatever regina says. god, maybe dani was right, you are regina’s puppy.

you walk into school with the blonde by your side. you’ve adjusted to the gawking students that ogle regina as she walks by. you really don’t blame them; ever since freshman year you’ve been one of those people who gaze at her in admiration. until now. regina’s strange interest in you hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else, and you’re now beginning to adjust to all the attention.

“please never make me take the bus again!” gretchen exclaims as she storms up to the both of you, and regina rolls her eyes. “i had to pick up y/n today. you’ll survive.” the blonde sounds unamused, causing gretchen to huff in response. “i already said i’m sorry, even though it’s totally not my fault i have a totally hot basement that makes people horny.” she says, and regina narrows her eyes at her friend. “we discussed this already. i’m going to be taking y/n to school from now on.” her tone is up for no disagreements, and you shake your head in protest. “it’s okay, gina. i don’t mind taking the bus—“ you start, but she cuts you off.

“i like picking you up. hush.” she shushes you quickly, and you try to ignore the way the back of your neck heats up. gretchen pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. as the three of you approach regina’s locker, karen bounces up to you guys. “did you guys here about the new girl who’s transferring here tomorrow?” she asks curiously, and regina quirks a brow in clear interest. “a new girl? why wasn’t i informed about this?” she questions, and karen shrugs. “i heard it from arnold who says he heard it from elizabeth g.” she explains, and the blonde presses her lips together tightly.

“a new student nobody bothered to tell me about… huh.” she says as she thinks about it for a moment. “she better be more interesting than the last new student we had. jeanette renolds is such a bore.” the blonde adds simply, and that’s that. the topic of the “new student” doesn’t come up again. at least not in front of you.

during lunch gretchen begins to talk about how close homecoming is, regardless of it being 3 months away. “you’re running for homecoming queen again, right regina?” gretchen asks, and regina glowers. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i?” she responds with a question, before looking at you. “are you going to vote for me to be homecoming queen?” she asks, her voice flirty and sweet. your cheeks flush under her gaze, “of course, i voted for you last year too, gina.” you confess, and this elicits a large smile from your favorite blonde.

“everyone voted for regina last year, and this year it’s not gonna change. i don’t even think you need a campaign manager this time either.” gretchen says, and regina rolls her eyes. “i am my own campaign manager, idiot. but i have y/n to help me with more stuff this year, like what color scheme i should go with.” she says suggestively, as her gaze flickers over to you. your eyes widen in slight panic, “what?? i can’t pick your color scheme! i’m terrible at picking out stuff. i mean, you chose my entire wardrobe.” you remind her, and she shrugs.

“don’t care. your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so we’ll start looking at dresses next week. for you too.” her tone is left for no debates, and you don’t really pay attention to anything past “your opinion is the only one that matters to me”. the heat rises to your neck and face, and regina’s grin deepens. “are we still hanging out after school, or are you bailing on me today again?” regina pointedly asks you, and you nod eagerly. “we can try that new pretzel place—“ regina cuts you off, “you’re so cute, i can’t do too many carbs but i’ll get you pretzels on the way to where i’m taking you.” she declares, and your eyebrows perk up.

before you can question the blonde the bell rings, “i’m not doing anything after school—“ gretchen tries to say but regina cuts her off. “i didn’t ask, and you weren’t invited.” she hisses, and gretchen huffs. nobody dares question why regina is so adamant on spending time with you; especially alone time. honestly, you’re a bit scared to ask her as well. not because you think she’ll be mean to you, regina is never mean to you, no, you’re just afraid you may mess up whatever this is.

you’re ashamed to admit regina has become the center of your universe. she takes up all the spaces in your brain, and you can’t even go an hour without thinking about her. you and regina end up hanging out after school as promised. you end up sitting in the passenger seat of her car, a medium sized lemonade in your hand along with your mini pretzel bites. regina steals glances at you every now and then; you contentedly hum along to the song that’s playing as you curiously gaze out the window.

the only thought that keeps circling her mind is how much she likes this. just being around you.

“are we going on a hike?” you ask your hundredth question, and regina groans. “no, i hate walking.” she reminds you, and you have this adorable expression on your face as you think about other possibilities. the further from town you get, the further your mind wanders. “the beach?” you ask, and she shakes her head. “nope; i hate getting sand in my shoes and car.” she deadpans, and you go quiet for another few seconds. “we’ve been driving for almost forty minutes… what time are we coming back?” you inquire, and regina rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“you already wanna leave me?” she responds with a question of her own, and you shake your head rapidly. “no! i love hanging out with you, i just gotta text my mom and let her know before we end up somewhere with no service.” you explain yourself, and regina pretends as if she’s thinking about it for a moment. “just tell your mom you’re gonna spend the night at mine.” she orders, and you flash her a look, “gina, i can’t spend the night on a monday.” you remind her, causing her to huff.

“fine, tell her i’ll have you home by ten-thirty.” she mutters begrudgingly, and you smile in satisfaction. you send the text to your mom right as regina turns onto another highway to leave town. “okay, now i’m really curious! please tell me where we’re going.” you sound more excited than before, and the eagerness in your voice tugs on the blonde’s heartstrings. “it’s just a little place i like to go when things are too much. todays like the first pretty day we’ve had in awhile, and i wanted to take you.” she reveals, causing something inside of you to melt.

“y-you wanna take me to your spot?” you sound genuinely stunned, and regina snorts. “duh, who else would i wanna bring there? gretchen talks too much, karen doesn’t know what’s going on half the time, and everyone else only hangs out with me because i’m “regina george”… it’s only natural for me to take my special girl to my special place.” she retorts easily, causing the blood to rise to your face. regina smirks as she notes how flushed your cheeks are; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of the affect she has on you.

“we’re almost there; finish your pretzels.” she commands, and you don’t have to be told twice.

the sun is nearly setting by the time you both pull into a secluded area off a random road in the middle of nowhere. you can’t help but wonder how regina knows about this place; how long she was driving to find it one day. as she drives further into a green grassy area full of trees, with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps in the tree lines. your eyes widen as she drives further, only going deeper into the beautiful woods.

you roll down your windows excitedly, “oh my gosh this place is so pretty!” you squeal tempestuously. regina tries not look at you in fear she may swerve and ram into a tree, but your sudden uncontrolled behavior causes her to smile widely. if anyone she knew were to see it, they would hell froze over. she’s glad you aren’t paying any attention to her, because you would’ve seen the unusually soft expression on her face. you turn to look at her, catching her grinning from ear to ear, “we haven’t even gotten to the really cool part.” she tells you, and your eyes enlarge as they gaze into her.

“cooler than a literal forest out of a picture book!?” you ask and she chuckles, “you’re way too easy to impress. i’m starting to think i could park behind the 7/11 with you for an hour and you’d have fun.” she murmurs, and you shrug as you look back out the window. “as long as it’s with you.” you say this so easily, and it causes her smile to fall. her expression morphs into a baffled one, and she can’t stop herself from wondering why... why do you enjoy being around her so much?

regina makes a slight turn, and you let out this breathless gasp as your eyes land on a creek with a waterfall. it isn’t big, but it’s beautiful. “oh my god… gina! this is so beautiful!” you shriek erratically and you unbuckle your seatbelt as you the car comes to a full stop. you run out, and her eyes widen, “hey! i said i hate walking!” she hisses, trying to sound angry but she can’t even recognize herself.

if the girls heard me right now, they’d never respect me again.

“come on, gina!!” you order her, and regina— the girl who never takes orders from anyone— sighs as she turns the car off and gets out. “look at how clear the water is!” your enthusiasm causes regina to approach you, and act as if she hasn’t already seen this place a hundred times before you. it looks different when you’re here… regina can’t seem to place why. she isn’t sure if she’ll ever enjoy coming here without you again, and she doesn’t care. all she can do is stare at how the light of the sunset reflects off your big, wondrous eyes.

“if i would’ve known you liked this place so much, i would’ve brought you here awhile ago. i just never thought of bringing anyone till now.” she admits softly, and your smile deepens, which is something she didn’t even think was possible. “you haven’t bright anyone else here?” you ask timidly, and she nods earnestly. “just you.”

her confession causes you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her abruptly. her eyes widen a bit; she’s never been the hugging type… yet as your delicate grasp tightens around her lovingly, in a way she’s never felt, she can’t help the way her stomach flutters pathetically. she hugs you back, and can feel you practically melt into her. you’re so happy, and it hits her that you’re happy because of her. she’s made people cry, yell, curse, and run in the opposite direction… but she’s never made anyone feel happy.

the fleeting thought alone terrifies her like nothing else ever has. regina george is falling in love with you, and she isn’t sure how to stop it.

a/n: please don’t hate me but tumblr wasn’t letting me tag some of your accounts 😭💔

taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehot0 @syddie-reads @slaysksmska @cas-is-weird-ig @scarlettbitchx @pianogirl2121 @puppy-danvers2016 @messsor @dmenby3100 @that-one-little-soybean

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (6)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: I slacked last night to post this chap, ya girl was tired lol. f this 9-5 ON A SUNDAY- anyways yall enjoy lol

_________________________

The hum of the Undercity stretched below you as you sat perched on the edge of an old rooftop, the air thick with the scent of metal, oil, and faint traces of decay. The flickering neon signs in the distance cast an eerie glow across your features as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. The city buzzed with life, chaotic and unyielding, but up here, it felt strangely quiet.

“Brooding already?” Jinx’s familiar voice broke the silence.

You turned your head slightly to see her slinking toward you, her wild hair catching the light like a chaotic halo. She plopped down next to you with her signature reckless ease, her legs swinging freely over the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I don’t brood,” you shot back with a smirk. “You’re confusing me with Vi.”

Jinx snorted. “Vi’s brooding is all fists and scowls. You? You’re more of a ‘mysterious loner with a tragic backstory’ kind of brooding. Very cinematic.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Yeah? And what’s your deal? Crazed powder monkey with a flair for dramatics?”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me, but I prefer the term artistic mastermind.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “That’s definitely what people call you.”

The banter continued, sharp and fast, each quip met with equal intensity. But then, amidst the teasing, Jinx’s voice softened just slightly. “I missed this.”

You glanced at her, your smirk fading into something gentler. “Missed what? My dazzling wit?”

“Maybe,” she said with a sly grin, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “Missed you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of everything you both had been through pressed down like a storm cloud. Without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, your thumb brushing over her scarred knuckles.

Jinx’s gaze dropped to your arm, her sharp eyes catching the faint lines of ink peeking from under your sleeve. “What’s with all these tattoos, anyway?” she asked, tilting her head. “You never told me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question digging up memories you preferred to keep buried. But Jinx’s curious stare was relentless. “They’re… a map,” you admitted finally. “A map my so-called family gave me. They told me it would lead me to something important—something I needed to find to figure out who I was. But it’s from my past, and I haven’t looked at it in years.”

Her interest piqued, Jinx leaned closer. “A map, huh? Lemme see more of it.”

Before you could protest, she tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it enough to reveal the intricate network of lines and symbols inked across your chest and stomach. The tattoos were stark against your skin, a labyrinth of pathways and cryptic markings.

Jinx’s fingers hovered above the lines before tracing them lightly, her touch featherlight. “This… this is insane,” she murmured, her usual chaotic energy replaced by quiet fascination. Her fingers stopped at a particular symbol etched near your ribs.

“Wait a second.” Her voice grew sharper, her finger tapping the symbol. “This. I’ve seen this before.”

You glanced down. “What about it?”

“It’s Silco’s symbol,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and unease. “How the hell do you have this?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “I don’t know. It’s just part of the map. I never understood half of what these marks mean.”

Jinx stared at the symbol for a moment longer before her fingers resumed their path, tracing the lines of ink as if trying to decode you. Her touch lingered, and her voice softened again. “You know, when I was a kid… I used to dream about someone like you.”

Her confession caught you off guard. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant, almost wistful. “Someone who could pull me out of the mess I was in. Someone strong, who’d see me for who I am and not some broken thing. Someone who could…” She trailed off, her eyes meeting yours. “Give me the life I always wanted but could never have.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, and without thinking, you leaned closer. “And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Now I’ve got you. So, I guess… dream fulfilled.”

The warmth in her eyes pulled you in, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance, your lips pressing against hers. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the unspoken things you’d been too afraid to say.

Jinx melted into you, her hands gripping your shoulders as if anchoring herself to reality. And for a moment, everything—the chaos, the pain, the uncertainty—faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet glow of the Undercity.

Caitlyn sat at her desk, a chaotic array of maps, reports, and scattered photographs spread across the once-pristine surface. Her office, once a model of order and discipline, now reflected the turmoil in her heart. The faint hum of Piltover’s cityscape filtered through the window as she poured over the last known locations associated with you. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she refused to stop. Not until she had something solid to go on.

“Commander Kiramman, there’s… not much to go on here,” the enforcer standing before her said hesitantly, his voice grating against her frayed nerves. “The reports from the Undercity are unreliable. And the last sighting was weeks ago.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Caitlyn snapped, slamming her hand down on the desk. The officer flinched at her sudden outburst. “I don’t care if the information is unreliable. You are reliable, aren’t you? Then do your job. You find her.”

The enforcer opened his mouth as if to protest, but the icy fire in Caitlyn’s eyes silenced him. “This isn’t just another case,” she continued, her voice low but seething with urgency. “I don’t want excuses—I want results. She’s alive, and I need to find her before someone else does.”

The officer nodded nervously and backed out of the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face as a wave of emotion washed over her. She couldn’t shake the guilt, the memories of what she had done to you.

For weeks, Caitlyn had been consumed by a singular need to find you—not to capture you, not to punish you, but to make things right. Now that she knew the truth, that Ambessa had fed her lies and manipulated her into believing you were responsible for her mother’s death, the weight of her actions was unbearable. She had hurt you in ways she couldn’t take back, and yet, she couldn’t let go of the feelings she still carried for you.

She cared for you. Loved you, even. That much she couldn’t deny anymore.

You had always been a mystery, but there was something about you that drew her in—your strength, your resolve, the quiet way you carried the scars of your past. And now, knowing you had been innocent all along, those feelings burned even brighter, mixed with an aching need to atone.

She stood abruptly, her decision made. Grabbing her coat, she strode out of the office and made her way to the grand steps of Piltover Tower. By the time she reached the top, a crowd of enforcers had gathered below, their curious murmurs filling the air. Caitlyn stood tall, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled troops as she prepared to address them.

“This city,” she began, her voice steady but firm, “has been through hell. We’ve lost good people—our families, our friends. And in the midst of that pain, we’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes.”

The enforcers exchanged uneasy glances as Caitlyn’s words hung in the air.

“I’ve come to realize that some of the choices we’ve made, some of the people we’ve blamed, were wrong. There’s someone out there—a person who was wronged by this city, by me. And now, they are in danger.”

She took a deep breath, her voice softening as her eyes drifted to the horizon. “Y/n isn’t a threat to us. She never was. And I won’t let Piltover’s mistakes take her away from me again.”

The crowd murmured, confused but attentive.

“I’m ordering a citywide search,” Caitlyn continued, her voice hardening with resolve. “Every corner of Piltover and the Undercity will be searched. I don’t care how long it takes—we will find her. And she is to be brought back alive.”

Her last word rang out like a commandment, silencing any doubts among the ranks.

“There’s another threat,” she added, her expression darkening. “Someone is targeting her���someone who wants to use her for their own gain. We cannot allow that to happen. I won’t allow it.”

Her gaze swept over the crowd, and for the first time in weeks, Caitlyn felt a sliver of clarity amid the chaos. She turned sharply, walking back into the tower, her mind already racing with plans.

This wasn’t just about making amends or clearing your name. It was about protecting you, saving you from the same forces that had taken so much from her. Because deep down, Caitlyn knew the truth: she still loved you, and she wasn’t ready to lose you again.

The streets of the Undercity buzzed with the usual mix of life and chaos as you walked alongside Sevika. She lit a cigar as the two of you moved through the crowd, your hood pulled low to avoid unnecessary attention. It was a routine now—your almost daily rounds to reinforce your presence. Let the people see you, remind them that you weren’t a ghost, that the streets still had a protector, even if it wasn’t the one they expected.

“I don’t get why you bother with all this,” Sevika muttered, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. “Your face is plastered on every corner. Pretty sure they know you’re alive.”

You shrugged, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Gotta stay ahead of the rumors, Sev. Besides, it’s not all for appearances.”

“Right.” Her smirk was as dry as the tone in her voice. “Totally not about that dish Jinx keeps whining about or those goggles you were ogling for the kid.”

You shot her a look, but it was playful. “She’s been craving it for days. And Isha… she’s been working so hard on her little machines. She deserves something nice.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, taking another puff. “You’re soft, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a small smile. “But they make it easy.”

Her expression softened briefly, but then she leaned in, her tone turning teasing. “So, you and Jinx, huh? Gonna make it official or keep tiptoeing around each other?”

You scoffed, the tips of your ears burning. “I don’t even know what we are. But… it’s something. She’s something.” You hesitated, your voice dropping as the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They both are. Isha and Jinx, they make me feel… like I belong. Like I finally have something worth holding onto.”

Sevika’s teasing grin faltered, her usual tough exterior replaced with something quieter, almost understanding. “Yeah, well… don’t screw it up.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Her mood shifted abruptly, her eyes narrowing. “Speaking of screwing things up… you know Caitlyn’s been sniffing around, right?”

That caught your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen her,” Sevika said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “Gathering troops, barking orders. She’s definitely on a mission, and I’m guessing it’s to find you. Word’s out, Spark. She knows you’re alive.”

You frowned, your mind flickering to Caitlyn and the weight of your history with her. But before you could dwell too much, you changed the subject, unwilling to let the conversation linger there. “What about you, Sev? When are you gonna stop babysitting me and get yourself a love life?”

She barked a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, because brooding loners with bionic arms are a hot commodity these days.”

“Hey, I’m proof it works.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, shoving your shoulder lightly. “Shut up and go get those goggles, sap.”

The teasing put a smile on your face as you ducked into a dimly lit shop tucked into the corner of the street. The air was thick with grease and the metallic tang of machinery. Rows of mismatched tools, gadgets, and gear lined the shelves, but it was the sleek pair of goggles hanging near the back that caught your eye. You reached out for them, turning them over in your hands, when a voice from the shadows made you freeze.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the lost one.”

The voice was low, measured, and carried an unsettling familiarity. You turned slowly, your eyes locking onto a tall, gaunt man stepping out from the shadows. His face was pale, his sharp features shadowed by a hood, and his eyes gleamed with a cold intelligence.

“Singed,” you said cautiously, your grip tightening on the goggles.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he said, his tone almost amused. His gaze flicked over you, lingering like he was studying a specimen under glass. “But it’s me who knows you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Don’t you?” His lips curved into a thin, cruel smile. “Oh, you’ve forgotten. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? The past buried so deep, you don’t even recognize the name you were given.”

You narrowed your eyes, but before you could speak, he said it—a name you hadn’t heard with that voice since you were a child. The sound of his tone–it sent a jolt through you, like a trigger and for a brief moment, your vision blurred.

The purple flash. It came unbidden, your body reacting to the name like a spark to a fuse. Your heart raced as you blinked, forcing yourself back to clarity, but Singed had already noticed.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his smile widening. “It’s still in you. Buried, yes, but not gone. I was right to be patient.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, but your voice wavered.

“Oh, you’ll understand soon enough,” he said cryptically, his words slipping into a language you couldn’t place. The sound of it was almost hypnotic, a strange rhythm that made your head swim and your body feel weightless.

You stumbled back a step, gripping the counter for support, your eyes unfocused. The world around you felt hollow, distant, as his voice echoed in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” Singed said, his tone almost mocking. “I’ll find you again. When the time is right.”

And just like that, he was gone, slipping back into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. You stood there for a moment, your breath shallow, your mind racing with questions you couldn’t answer.

The lair was dimly lit, the hum of machinery in the background blending with the occasional clink of metal tools on the workbench. You sat on a battered old chair in the corner, your hands clasped tightly, your elbows resting on your knees. It had been hours since you’d spoken. Since you’d even moved.

Your reflection in a nearby cracked mirror caught your eye. You barely recognized yourself. The sharp confidence you once carried felt dulled, replaced by something hollow, something unfamiliar.

His voice. That name.

“Spark.”

The word echoed in your mind like a haunting melody. It wasn’t just the name—it was the way he said it, the power it held over you. Your fingers twitched as you recalled how your body had responded against your will. A primal reaction you couldn’t control, one that made your stomach churn with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you muttered under your breath, your voice hoarse.

Jinx’s light steps barely registered until she plopped down on the floor beside you, cross-legged and watching you closely. Her usual manic energy was subdued, replaced by something softer, more curious.

“Alright, what’s eating you, Big Shot?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’ve been sitting there looking like someone stole your favorite gun.”

You glanced at her, your jaw tightening. You wanted to brush it off, but the weight of the encounter was too much to carry alone.

“Do you know someone named Singed?” you asked, your voice low and strained.

Her expression shifted immediately, her playful smirk vanishing. “Yeah… I know him. He worked with Silco back in the day. Creepy guy. Always muttering, always experimenting. Why?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. “I ran into him earlier. He… he called me by that name, Jinx. A voice I haven’t heard since I was a kid.”

“What name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Spark,” you whispered, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “And when he said it… it was like… like I wasn’t in control anymore. Like I had to listen.”

Jinx’s expression darkened. “What do you mean ‘had to listen’?”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. “It was like I wasn’t myself. My body just… responded. I felt feral, like there was something buried in me that he was pulling out. I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. I felt… hopeless. Submissive.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jinx’s fingers tapped against her knee, her gaze fixed on you but distant, as if she were piecing things together.

“I don’t like this,” she finally said. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I need help, Jinx. I need to figure out what’s happening to me, why I reacted like that. And I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

Jinx hesitated, biting her lip. You could see the conflict in her eyes. She hated the idea of you being vulnerable, hated the thought of you needing anyone but her. But she wasn’t blind to the truth.

“You’re saying this is bigger than the Undercity,” she said quietly.

You nodded. “I think it is.”

She ran a hand through her hair, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but… you’re right. If Singed is messing with you, and he’s tied to whatever happened to you as a kid, we need someone who knows how to deal with him. Someone with resources.”

Your heart sank as you caught on to where she was going. “Jinx—”

“It has to be Caitlyn,” she interrupted, her tone firm despite the reluctance in her eyes. “She’s the only one who can help you figure this out. I hate it, but if it’s between that and losing you to whatever freaky science Singed is pulling, then I’ll deal with it.”

You looked at her, surprised by the resolve in her voice. Her loyalty was fierce, but this level of sacrifice was new, even for her.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, searching her face.

“No,” she admitted with a wry smile, “but I’m sure about you. If Caitlyn’s what it takes to keep you safe, then fine. But I’m not gonna let her take you without a fight. Got it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the weight on your chest lifting slightly. “Got it.”

She reached over, taking your hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t care how many towers we have to burn down. You’re not going through this alone.”

Her words settled deep in your heart, and for the first time since the encounter with Singed, you felt a flicker of hope.

Caitlyn’s quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional sound of her shuffling papers or the creak of her chair. You stood in the shadows, watching her as she slumped at her desk, her head resting in her hands.

Her once pristine space was unrecognizable. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers left half-open, and an empty teacup sat forgotten on the edge of the desk. She exhaled deeply, her body trembling as she fought back tears. But eventually, the dam broke.

“I hate this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice shaky. “I hate how much I care. How much I miss you. And you’re probably out there hating me after everything I did to you.”

You shifted in the shadows, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“I trusted you. I loved you. Still love you, even though I shouldn’t.” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Even if you don’t love me back… I can’t stop. I can’t let go of you.”

You clenched your fists, emotions swirling inside you. You felt deeply for Caitlyn, more than you were ready to admit, but now wasn’t the time to explore those feelings. There was too much at stake, too many questions that needed answers.

Still, seeing her like this broke something in you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you spoke lightly, trying to mask the weight in your chest. “You know, your security’s terrible. Anyone could just waltz in here.”

Caitlyn froze, her tear-streaked face snapping toward the sound of your voice. Her wide, disbelieving eyes found you as you stepped forward, your lips quirking in a teasing smile.

“Hello, Commander,” you said softly, the playfulness in your tone betraying the tension in your heart.

She didn’t hesitate. Caitlyn launched herself out of her chair, her boots thudding against the floor as she closed the distance between you. You barely managed to catch her as she threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a desperate embrace.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice muffled against your shoulder. Then, louder, as if saying it would make it real: “You’re here!”

Her hands found your face, her thumbs brushing against your jaw as she held you at arm’s length to look at you. Her fingers were trembling, her breath hitching. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I… I’m so sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For not trusting you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You let her hold your face, her warmth grounding you in the moment. “I’m here now,” you said softly, your hands resting on her waist. “But I need your help, Cait. I really need your help.”

She blinked, her tears slowing as she searched your face. “Anything,” she said quickly. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just tell me.”

You stepped back, reluctantly breaking her hold, and removed your coat. Then, with a steadying breath, you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing the tattoos that snaked across your torso.

Her eyes widened, her gaze tracing the intricate lines and symbols etched into your skin. She reached out instinctively, her fingers hovering over one of the symbols near your ribs.

“These…” she whispered. “You’ve never explained them to me before.”

“They’re a map,” you said, your voice low. “My so-called family gave them to me when I was a child. I didn’t understand what they meant back then, but… Singed does. He called me by a name, Caitlyn. ‘Spark.’ And when he said it, I wasn’t… myself anymore.”

Her fingers brushed against one of the symbols, and you shivered at the contact. “He did something to you?” she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

You nodded. “I don’t know how or why, but it’s like… he has some kind of control over me. I need to understand what these tattoos mean, what he’s after. And I need you to help me find out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened as she looked up at you, her hands still tracing the lines of your tattoos. “We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly. “I’ll do everything I can to get you through this. You’re not alone.”

She pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around you. For a moment, you let yourself sink into her embrace, her warmth chasing away the lingering cold left by Singed’s voice.

You held her close, your cheek resting against her hair. “Thank you, Cait.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you, her blue eyes filled with determination. “Whatever it takes,” she promised.

You nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest. For the first time in days, you felt like you had a chance to take control of your fate.

The dim glow of the desk lamp illuminated the worn records of Silco’s operations scattered before you. You sat hunched over, elbows propped on the table, flipping through the faded pages. Caitlyn had been quiet for some time now, seated across the room with her own stack of documents, but you felt her gaze lingering.

You glanced up, catching her staring. She didn’t look away.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips.

Caitlyn blinked as if pulled from a trance. “No, I just…” She trailed off, setting her papers down and folding her hands in her lap. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’ve changed me.”

Her words caught you off guard. You tilted your head, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I mean, the way I see the world,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “I used to think everything was so black and white. Good and bad. Piltover and the Undercity. But you… you made me see the shades of gray. The hope. The humanity I ignored in the people I was supposed to protect.”

Her blue eyes softened as they met yours, and something in her expression made your chest tighten. You tried to brush it off, turning your attention back to the records in front of you, but her voice drew you in again.

“You gave me hope,” she admitted. “You made me believe things could be better, even when I was at my lowest.”

You were about to respond when you realized she wasn’t across from you anymore. Somehow, she was beside you, her presence warm and steady. Her fingers brushed against your arm, and your breath hitched.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the moment. “Cait, I…” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I’m seeing Jinx. And… I have feelings for her.”

Caitlyn froze for a second, then nodded, her expression unreadable. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I understand. I’m not trying to come between you two.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly. “But I need you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

Her voice wavered, and before you could react, her hands were on your face, her touch gentle but firm. You froze, your heart pounding as her gaze locked with yours.

“Cait…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay on task,” you added quickly, trying to redirect the moment. “We need to focus on what Singed is planning.”

Caitlyn sighed, her hands falling away as she pulled back slightly. “You’re right,” she said, though her eyes lingered on you a moment longer. Then, as if something clicked, her gaze sharpened, and she leaned closer again, her eyes catching on the faint symbol etched onto the side of your neck.

“What’s this?” she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the mark.

You frowned. “It’s part of the map. Why?”

Caitlyn stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she crossed the room. She rifled through a stack of papers, muttering to herself until she pulled out a crumpled sheet. Her eyes darted between the paper and your neck, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This symbol,” she said, holding the paper up for you to see. “It’s tied to Hextech. There’s someone who might be able to help us. They’ve worked on experimental tech, mapping neural pathways, and… well, they might know how to decipher this.”

You stared at the paper, the symbol on it eerily similar to the one on your skin. Your fingers brushed over the mark on your neck as unease and curiosity warred within you.

“Who are we talking about?” you asked, your voice steady despite the knot forming in your stomach.

Caitlyn looked at you, her resolve clear. “Heimerdinger,” she said. “If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

The faint, persistent hum of that voice had been tormenting you all evening, like a needle threading through the fabric of your thoughts. You tried to ignore it, to push it back where it belonged, but its grip only tightened.

The teacup slipped from your trembling hands and shattered against the floor, porcelain shards scattering like stars across the wooden boards. Your knees buckled, your hands flying to your head as a scream tore loose from your throat—a sound that was raw, primal, and animalistic.

Your vision spun, flashes of fragmented memories—or perhaps illusions—assaulting you. Faces you didn’t recognize, voices layered over each other in chaos, the faint glow of a strange symbol seared into your mind. And the voice. That commanding, icy voice calling you by a name you hadn’t heard in decades.

“Spark,” it whispered. It echoed, again and again, rattling inside your skull.

“Y/n!” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the haze. Her footsteps were quick as she rushed to your side, dropping to her knees beside you. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You couldn’t answer her. You couldn’t see her. Your eyes were wide, flickering between their natural gray and an unnatural, glowing purple. Caitlyn froze, her hands hesitating in midair as your gaze snapped toward her.

Her breath caught. “Your eyes…” she whispered, fear lacing her voice.

Your breath was ragged, shallow, as if something deep and primal was clawing to the surface. The world blurred, your senses heightening in unnatural ways—every sound sharp, every scent piercing. You were becoming something unrecognizable, something feral.

Through sheer will, you found a sliver of control. With trembling hands, you fumbled into your pocket and pulled out the emergency flare Jinx had given you. Your hands shook as you thrust it toward Caitlyn, your voice a low, broken rasp.

“Go,” you managed.

She stared at you, stunned for a moment, before the severity of the situation sank in. Without hesitation, Caitlyn grabbed the flare and sprinted to the nearest rooftop. The night swallowed her footsteps, and moments later, a sharp hiss filled the air as the flare ignited.

The smoke rose thick and red, a stark beacon against the starless sky.

->

Jinx sat at her workbench, goggles perched on her forehead as she tinkered with a delicate trinket. She worked with an uncharacteristic focus, her tools clicking against the small device. A faint smirk played on her lips as she muttered to herself, occasionally shooting Isha a glance.

Isha sat nearby, her small frame rigid and tense, her wide eyes darting between Jinx and the object in her hands. The girl’s expression said everything: curiosity, apprehension, and admiration, all swirling together.

Jinx noticed the look and wagged her finger, a teasing grin curling her lips. “This little beauty? It’s not gonna bite, kid. Unless I screw up. Then…well…” She mimicked an explosion with her hands, laughing as Isha’s eyes widened further.

Isha’s head snapped up, though, her gaze fixed on the window. Her lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together in concern.

“What is it, gremlin?” Jinx asked, not bothering to look up. “I swear if it’s another—”

Her voice died as her eyes followed Isha’s line of sight. The flare burned bright in the sky, its red smoke twisting like a serpent against the black.

Jinx froze. The world seemed to stop around her. Her breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. Without a word, she sprang to her feet, her stool clattering to the ground.

Her workbench became a blur of movement as she scrambled to grab her weapons, tools, and anything she might need. Every motion was frantic, precise, desperate.

Sevika was making her way to Jinx’s lair when the chaos hit. The red smoke was unmistakable, its ominous glow visible even through the smog of the Undercity. She turned the corner just as Jinx barreled into her, nearly knocking them both over.

“What the hell—” Sevika began, but Jinx’s hand gripped her collar before she could finish.

“It’s Spark,” Jinx blurted, her voice unsteady, her eyes wide and wild. She didn’t need to explain further; the desperation in her tone said it all.

Sevika hesitated for only a heartbeat before she nodded. Her hand moved instinctively to her weapon, her expression hardening.

“Let’s go,” she said, and the two of them took off toward the flare, their footsteps echoing through the labyrinth of the Undercity. Neither of them spoke, their shared urgency driving them forward into the unknown.

<-

The room felt impossibly small as you clawed at your mind for control. Your breaths were shallow and ragged, each inhale jagged like broken glass scraping your lungs. The voices—taunting, commanding, relentless—coiled around your thoughts like venomous snakes.

The table in front of you cracked under your tightening grip. Your strength betrayed you as it splintered and gave way, collapsing in two with a deafening crash. Your hoarse scream tore through the room, raw and primal, echoing against the walls.

You stumbled to your feet, your body swaying like a marionette with severed strings, and found your way to Caitlyn’s bathroom. The tile felt icy under your bare feet, but you didn’t notice. Your trembling fingers twisted the faucet handle, and steaming hot water roared from the showerhead. Without hesitation, you stepped under the cascade, letting the searing heat soak into your skin.

The world blurred as the water streamed over you. Memories began to rise, vivid and haunting, like waves crashing against the walls of your mind.

You were small again, no more than a child. The bridge stretched before you, cracked and broken, its foundation trembling with each explosion that rocked the air. Smoke choked the sky, and screams pierced your ears.

A man knelt in front of you, his face obscured by the haze, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“Sparky,” he said, his hands cupping your tear-streaked cheeks. His tone was warm, protective, but tinged with desperation. “Listen to me. You’re strong. Stronger than you think. But you have to go. Run.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” you cried, clutching at his arms.

He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll find you. I promise. I love you, kid. Never forget that.”

Another explosion roared behind him, the shockwave forcing him to let you go. His body shielded you from the debris, but the force sent you stumbling backward.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

You turned and ran, your legs heavy with fear. The bridge groaned beneath your feet as more explosions rattled its structure. Then, the sound of splintering metal tore through the air, and the ground vanished beneath you.

You screamed as you fell, the world spinning into a blur of smoke and sky. The man’s distant cry of anguish echoed after you.

The memory collided with the present as your scream ripped from your throat once again. You stumbled back against the shower wall, the water now unbearably hot, but you didn’t care. Your hands gripped your head, nails digging into your scalp as you slid down to the floor of the shower.

Jinx burst into Caitlyn’s residence, her face flushed with urgency. Her mismatched eyes darted around until they locked onto Caitlyn, who had already armed herself and was braced for confrontation.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. Caitlyn’s sharp gaze met Jinx’s defiant one, both women silently acknowledging what neither wanted to say aloud: they both loved you, and they both knew it.

Jinx clenched her fists but broke the silence first. “She’s in trouble. You know it, and so do I.” Her voice was steady, but there was a crack in her tone, a vulnerability she rarely allowed.

Caitlyn nodded reluctantly, her grip on her weapon loosening. “I know.”

Sevika, leaning against the wall, smirked. “Well, isn’t this cozy? Two sides of a war teaming up over a girl. Feels like I’m stuck in a bad romance novel.”

Neither Jinx nor Caitlyn acknowledged her quip, but they both shot her sharp looks before heading down the hallway.

As they approached the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed the steam curling out from under the door. Her chest tightened.

“Stay behind me,” she said firmly, motioning for Jinx to wait.

But Jinx ignored her, shoving past and throwing the door open.

The sight that met them was chilling. You lay slumped in the shower, the hot water pouring relentlessly over your face and body. Your skin was pale, your lips parted as shallow breaths escaped you.

Jinx was the first to move, skidding to her knees beside you. “Hey! Come on, don’t do this to me now!” Her voice cracked as she shook your shoulders gently.

Caitlyn followed, her heart pounding in her chest. She crouched next to you, her hands trembling as she reached for your face. The heat of your skin against her palm was alarming.

Your eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t the gray she knew. They glowed an unnatural purple, their intensity sending a shiver down her spine.

“Y/n?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice barely audible.

You stared at her blankly, as if you didn’t recognize her. Then your lips parted, and a guttural growl escaped, low and feral.

Caitlyn turned to Jinx, her expression grave. “I need to detain her. For everyone’s safety.”

Jinx bristled, her hand already reaching for her pistol. “The hell you will!”

“She’s not herself!” Caitlyn snapped.

“Like I care!” Jinx yelled back, her voice breaking.

Sevika lingered in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Oh, this is gonna end well,” she muttered under her breath.

The tension in the bathroom was suffocating, Jinx and Caitlyn standing inches apart, their heated argument escalating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jinx hissed, her voice sharp. “She’s not some wild animal to be locked up in your tower like a damn trophy!”

“She’s a danger to everyone, Jinx!” Caitlyn fired back, her tone equally biting. “If we don’t control this, people will die. You can’t just ignore that because you—”

“Because I what?” Jinx interrupted, stepping closer, her mismatched eyes blazing. “Because I love her? Like you don’t?”

Sevika, leaning against the doorframe, let out a frustrated growl. She’d been watching you the entire time, noting the way your body tensed and twitched, your breath ragged, your purple eyes flickering faintly as if battling something unseen.

They didn’t notice the moment you stirred, your body beginning to rise from where you lay. Sevika did.

“Enough!” she barked, stepping forward just as you fully began to sit up, your glowing purple eyes locking onto the nearest target. With a single motion, Sevika’s mechanical fist slammed into your temple.

The metallic sound of the impact echoed in the room as you slumped forward, unconscious.

“What the hell, Sevika?!” Jinx shouted, rushing toward you.

Caitlyn froze, her face pale as she watched Sevika lower her arm, her expression dark.

Sevika turned on them, her voice sharp and unwavering. “You two were so busy fighting over who loves her more that you didn’t even notice she was about to tear both your throats out.” Her voice cracked slightly as she muttered, “And then Isha would be alone.”

Jinx’s mouth opened to argue, but nothing came out. Caitlyn lowered her gaze, guilt washing over her.

“You think this is a game?” Sevika snapped, her glare shifting between them. “You think any of this is about your feelings? It’s not. If she goes feral again, it won’t matter who she loves or who loves her back—none of us will make it out alive.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, composing herself. “We need to detain her. Somewhere safe.”

“Not the tower,” Jinx said immediately, her tone defensive.

Caitlyn frowned. “Jinx—”

“She’s not going there,” Jinx growled. “Ambessa’s there. You think I trust her anywhere near Spark?”

Caitlyn hesitated but relented with a nod. “Fine. Somewhere secluded.”

Sevika sighed heavily, bending down to lift your unconscious body over her shoulder like a sack of flour. “Let’s move. We’ll figure this out on the way.”

_________________

Well...

[asexualbookbird]

Ah, I read some books in 2024, huh? And eight rereads? Who am I. Tried a lot of new things this year which yay! Go me! Branching out! Not all of those were successes, but I did it and therefore no one can criticise me. But we all know what's important here. So here you go, THE BEST AND WORST OF 2024 (in no particular order)!

THE BEST BOOKS OF 2024

The Adventure of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty - yes, I am still thinking about this, thank you for asking! A full entire adult of a person, a mother even, going on adventures? Fighting and killing and fucking and living? Hell yeah! More of this, please! I would also love to see a prequel of Amina's adventures before the book timeline. Everything about this was so great, I look forward to rereading it.

The City We Became by NK Jemisin - I was wary about this because it was so polarizing to readers. On one hand, even my least favorite Jemisin was still fun, on the other hand, I know nothing about New York. HOWEVER. The audiobook was FABULOUS. I wholeheartedly believe the audio is why I enjoyed this so much. This was FUN this is what reading should feel like all the time.

When the Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb -FRIEND TO MY SOUL. Again, beautiful audio performance. Beautiful story. I need my own copy so I can reread this to my hearts content. It's cute, it deals with heavy topics, it's gay, it's the friend to my soul.

WORST BOOKS OF 2024

The Novice by Taran Matharu - Ugh. Bought when released, knowing nothing, which seems to be a Theme with books sitting on my shelf I end up not enjoying. Learning about the history of this book made me more angry than the book itself. What do you mean his entire series was bought and published without an editor? It shows, but. Come on. Wattpad born and it shows.

Last Heir to Blackwood Library by Hester Fox- this was only for a summer reading bingo challenge, but come on. There are ways to pull the memory loss, or altered memory plot line and have it work. This did not do that. Wish a library would eat my memories of this book so I never had to think of it again.

Red Sister by Mark Lawrence - Mark Lawrence is one of those authors who writes long books because he thinks it makes him a Good Writer. Mark Lawrence is one of those writers who is afraid to write adult characters because he thinks they won't sell, but continuously puts them in adult situations to show how Hard their lives are and Isn't This Dark And Gritty And Sad without doing the work to actually get there. It toes the line between fantasy in scifi, but not well. It feels more indecisive than anything else.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace -more like fireBROKE MY HEART!!!! It was on my tbr list for years, and I finally found a copy and I'm glad I own it so I can reread it at my leisure. It's what Ready Player One could have been if it was actually good.

Godkiller by Hannah Kaner - Okay honestly, this and City were fighting for a spot in the main top three. Either could be there. I do honorable mentions for this very reason. I was surprised to learn this was a tiktok book, because yknow. It's actually Good. Witcher vibes, but with more respect towards women. Why isn't book three in my possession right this second.

Someone You Can Build A Nest In by John Wiswell - I Am Normal About This Book. It was fun to read and annotate it for a friend. It was fun to be around as two friends read it and I loved seeing their reactions to it. Loved cheering on Shesheshen, still think she deserves to eat more people. Friends and I will still share biting goop memes with the caption "Shex3 posting". It's safe to say this has rewritten my brain.

DISHONORABLE MENTIONS

Legacy of Ash by Matthew Ward - I was hyped about this book before release. I bought book two before even reading this because I was that sure I'd enjoy it. What a fool. This did NOT have to be 800 pages. It was another example of someone writing many words because they think that's what Good Writers Do, and not stopping to think about what those words even SAY. Which, in this case, was ~Absolutely Nothing~

Ghost Station by SA Barnes - crying sobbing this book was so fucking stupid. Best thing to come out of it was seeing a friend read it and confirming that yes, it was That Fucking Stupid. Learning the author mainly writes YA Paranormal explained why everyone had Too Stupid To Live disease.

I'm Afraid You've Got Dragons by Peter S Beagle - Admittedly only here to make things even and because it's still pretty fresh in my mind. I was soooo excited when this was announced, and now I'm soooo happy I didn't preorder it. More boring than anything else, but I don't wish it was longer because it already felt Too Long.

Once again, ignored rereads because I feel like that's cheating somehow. Let these be for highlighting new and fun books I discovered! I feel like the last few Bricks I've read have been Very Bad so I hope a couple of the bricks I have planned for 2025 are actually good. Considering one of those is Labyrinth's Heart, I think we're okay.

[p-taryn-dactyl]

after midnight

a/n: dw i still am working on all my wips but i just wanted to show my love for the movie that ruled my childhood! also if there's a certain fairy tale and character you would like me to do i would love to do more of something like this! this is the first part, but the others have been written already, lemme know if y'all would like me to continue posting for this word count: 2.5k warning(s): the evil stepmother is NOT cunty in this guys (rip cate blanchett); the step sisters are definitely not girls girls; everyone is gay; if you know the story you know; but im also going to add aspects from one of the non-disney versions; mentions of blood (small but at the beginning); not an exact retelling, more like cinderella is a blueprint? prompt: you never thought that you would go from cleaning fireplaces and singing to mice to dancing in the royal palace in a magical disguise, meeting the love of your life. or, a cinderella story <3

The needle pricked your finger, sending droplets of blood spilling onto the fine fabric. You watched as the red seeped into the green, mesmerized by how the blood ran quick. How you wished you could be as free, as quick as you ran. But your father built this house, his hopes and dreams were buried deep into the foundations, no matter how much your step-mother tried to erase his memory. She loved his money but cringed at his legacy.

"Y/N? Gods, where is that wretched girl?" Your stepmother's voice echoed up the stairs to the attic where you resided. Quickly, you folded the cloth over, hiding the spot of blood staining the rich emerald fabric. You were mending an evening gown of your stepmother, one she had snagged on a splinter of wood while evading your requests of new fabrics. Your clothes were quickly becoming patchwork quilts and even though you rarely left your attic space, you were desperate to sew a dress that you could feel proud of. Your door burst open, revealing Valentina, the woman who's presence seemed to make your room grow colder. Her eyes narrowed in on the dress in your lap and she scoffed, hand clutching the handle of the attic door tightly, as if speaking to you was a burden.

"Are you still working on that? Whatever, the fireplace needs tending to," She spun around to go back downstairs, obviously signaling you to follow, "Oh, and be mindful, the dressmaker is here, don't get soot on any of her fabrics."

Valentina's tone was haughty, as if even when she couldn't see you, she spoke looking down upon you. You merely nodded, gently folding the dress on your bed and following your step-mother down the stairs. Making sure to keep your head down, you passed Valentina, heading towards the main fire place, where burnt logs sat and ash blanketed the stone like snow. You internally sighed, knowing how this task would end. Grabbing a rag, you sat on your knees as you started gathering the loose ash and kindling, mindful of the sparks that still lingered. The voices of Valentina's daughters wafted into the room like a burnt goose pie, making your stomach uneasy as you braced yourself for the comments they would surely make. Thankfully, you heard the voice of Shuri, the acclaimed dressmaker, mingling with theirs, gently shutting down their absurd ideas. While your curiousity spun around in your mind, furiously wondering why your step-mother had called on Shuri, someone who only made dresses for the most extravagant of occasions. She also had extravagant prices, prices you weren't sure how your step-mother would repay.

"We can do measurments in here, ignore Y/N, she'll be doing her chores." Valentina absentmindedly waved in your direction, sitting on the stool farthest from you. Shuri nodded in hello, giving you a small smile which you returned. The basket she carried was full of fabric samples and measuring strands, grabbing your attention with the expensive items she so leisurley held. As your step-sisters argued, Shuri gave you her attention, her question making you pause as you cleaned the fireplace.

"Are you also going to the ball, Y/N? I'm sure I have the creativity to quickly sketch a fourth dress." Shuri joked, not noticing how your hands shook as you continued your task. There was a ball? And your stepmother was commisioning dresses for herself and her daughters in front of you, flaunting the knowledge you didn't have. While you could care less about a ball, you were bothered by how little you knew of the outside world, of the town you loved so much. Something clicked in your mind as you thought, lifting your head to turn and begin to ask your stepmother a question but her voice cut through the air.

"Unless Y/N somehow cleans the entire house top-to-bottom until it shines and sorts our mixed grain into like piles in time for the royal ball, I don't think she'll be needing your services, Miss Adanna. Besides, the queen is hosting this ball so her daughter may find a spouse, what use would she have of a serving girl?"

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"This isn't a request! You must marry!" Evanora's stern voice echoed through the throne room, practically rattling the armour of her guards. She glared at her daughter who stood before her, hair down and wild from horseback. Agatha stared back, arms crossed and head held defiantly.

"For what reason? The kingdom is prospering, the people are happy and for the most part well fed, and we've no news of our enemies to the south! Why must I marry, Mother?" At the purple wisps gathering at her fingertips, Agatha anticipated her mother's response. The queen bunched her hands into fists, her jaw clenched as she spoke.

"You know the reason, daughter. Your...studies have put you in a very precarious position and the curse will solidify on your next birthday. Plus, it won't hurt to erase the image people have of you, with your escapades and trysts that bring embarassment into my court."

Agatha merely scoffed, uncrossing her arms as she held them out incrediously.

"If you've forgotten, Mother, my birthday is at the end of this month. And the curse you speak of can only be broken by unconditional love, something you wouldn't know about." Agatha spit out her words like venom, hopeful they would affect her mother in any way. But the Queen merely watched her daughter with cold eyes, waving her messanger up to the throne. The man gave a crooked bow to Agatha as he passed her, scroll in hand. Evanora took the scroll with a nod, dismissing the man. He scurried out of the large room, footfalls echoing in the silence. The Queen waved the announcement in the air, almost tauntingly, before she opened and began reading out loud.

"The Crown formally invites you to partake in the debutante ball for Crown Princess and Heir Agatha of House Harkness. Our home will be open for three nights as our beloved Princess searches for a partner to strengthen the bonds of our kingdom."

The Queen put down the scroll, letting it fall to the ground as she smirked at her daughter.

"You'll have three nights to find this unconditional love or the consequences you'll face will doom the lives of everyone you hold dear."

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The thought of leaving the house, if only for a few nights, ate away at your mind, distracting you from your chores. Shuri had long left, your stepmother and stepsisters measurements and requests for last minute additions scribbled on a notepad you were sure she wanted to burn. But before she left, she grabbed a package from her carriage, giving it you once Valentina and her daughters had already gone inside. Inside, you found fabric, soft and beautiful. The shimmering pink shade reminded you of your mother and how she decorated the house before she died.

"I'm sorry it's not much but I've seen your work Y/N, if they won't have me make you a dress, I believe you can bring your own dream to life." Shuri clasped your hands in hers in a goodbye, her kindness overwhelming you, bringing tears to your eyes. However, at the screams of your stepsisters for tea, your bubble was burst and you made your way inside, careful to keep the package out of Valentina's sight, hiding it under a loose floorboard in the kitchen before you started the afternoon tea. Anya, the eldest of the two stepsisters, practiced her dancing, stumbling into the couches and lounge chairs as she held a candlestick in place of the Crown Princess. Damille, the stepsister close to you in age by a few months, scoffed at her sister and mockingly danced, starting a fight between the two sisters. You kept your laughter to yourself, remembering the sting of Valentina's hand when you reacted to her daughters antics the first week after your father's passing. While you waited for the water to boil, you prepared the tea leaves, grabbing a lemon to slice and squeezing the tart juice over the dry leaves. Your mind wandered once again to the idea of going to a ball. A royal ball. While you had never truly seen the royal family, you recalled the portrait of the heir you had once seen in the library of your town. You felt heat rise to your face as you recalled the childlike crush you had on the Crown Princess, shaking your head as you pouring the now boiling water into three teacups, careful to avoid splashing the water onto your skin. Once the liquid turned into a pale yellow-green shade, you strained out the leaves and prepared a tray with the cups, a bowl of sugar cubes, and some milk for Damille, who prefered her tea tart with no sugar. You walked into the sitting room, setting the tea down in front of your stepmother. While you prepared it the way she enjoyed, you attempted to ask her a question.

"Stepmother, may I accompany you to the Royal Ball? It would cost you no expense, I can make my own dress-"

Valentina's laugh cut you off.

"With the scraps you have? I will not be seen in public with someone is a patchwork excuse for a dress, at a royal ball no less. Besides you have chores." Even though she waved her hand through the air, indicating the conversation was over, you continued, feeling slightly desperate at a chance to taste freedom.

"I can get the chores done in time, the house is never truly dirty, and I could wear one of my mother's old-"

It was Valentina's cold stare that stopped you from continuing. Something clicked in her eyes and she brought up her tea to take a sip, reveling in your tense body language. Slowly she set her tea back onto the china plate, the soft clink the only noise as you and her daughters awaited her answer.

"If you can create a dress, a new dress, that isn't embarassing for my family and if you can complete the chore of mucking the stables before the first night of the ball, you may accompany us. But," she held a finger almost accusingly in your face, "You will not speak to anyone of any status while there."

There was something in her tone, something you couldn't quite place but her agreement overshadowed any caution you could've had. You practically danced out of the room, patterns for your dress spinning in your mind.

You didn't notice the look your step-mother shared with her daughters as you left, an evil glint shining in their eyes.

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Agatha walked around the library, absentmindly running her fingers across the spines of every book as she was lost in thought.

The curse was her fault, yes, but she would never admit her mother was right. She would admit, however, that her stunt of gaining power in hope of overthrowing her mother was done in haste. If she had read the fine print maybe she wouldn't be in this position. She silently scolded herself as she saw a slight purple haze cover her vision as magic pooled in her eyes.

She had three nights, three, to find someone who could potential help her break the curse she put upon herself. Blinking away the haze, Agatha looked down at her hands, her black fingertips fading into dark grey veins up to her elbow. The words her mother spoke to her the night the curse was solidified rang in her head as she followed her unearthly veins with her eyes.

How could anyone love someone like her?

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You leaned against the tree your parents had planted the night of their wedding, tears streaming down your face as you clutched onto the scraps of your dress. You had slaved over this garment, days were spent tending to your stepmothers every word but nights were spent hunched over with a needle as you sewed a dress you had dreamed of. A dream that was nothing now. You were raised to be kind to all but as you recalled the event of this night, you felt hatred bubble in your chest.

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Excitement was all you could feel as you slipped into your dress, proud of your work. You had finished mucking out the stables hours ago, giving you time to wash the stink away from your skin and hair. Pride welled in you as you smoothed the fabric with your hands, opening your attic door to join your step-mother and step-sisters as they waited for the coach that would take you to the palace.

"Mother, look!" Anya practically shouted as you walked down the stairs, covering her smirking expression with a fan. Valentina spread her arms out in what you would learn to be false affection. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, your step-mother examined your dress, pursing her lips. Quickly, the excitment you felt died like a dwindling fire as your step sisters joined their mother in circling you.

"Oh Y/N, I just don't think this'll work. This design is just...it has too many faults. Here, let us help."

Your confusion was replaced by cold shock as Valentina's hand shot out to rip part of your sleeve off. Anya followed, grabbing part of the skirt to pull on the seams. Damille's was the worst, using both hands to create a distance between the bodice and the top of your skirt. You stood frozen, tears streaming down your face angrily as they continued to destroy your hard work. It was over the second the familiar sound of horses sounded outside.

You don't remember what Valentina said to you before she left, or the snide remarks her daughters added on. All you remember was running, running through the house, running across the backyard into the open land where your parents tree stood proud.

And that's where you found yourself.

"How could you be so stupid?" You muttered to yourself as you wiped away tears, angry for allowing yourself to believe your step-mother could ever show you kindness. In your wallowing, you didn't notice how the ground in front of the tree started to swirl, how the wind changed directions, how a slight humming noise filled the air.

"Now why are you crying when you should be at the ball?" A slightly cocky voice spoke in front of you, unfamiliar yet comforting. Your head shot up and your eyes widened at the sight in front of you. A woman, wearing a sparling cloak stood expectantly, hand on her hip while the other held a wand. Blinking, you stuttered out a response.

"I, I can't go. They ruined my dress and my stepmother would recognize me. I don't want to deal with the aftermath."

The sparkling woman held out her wand, pointing it at you.

"I'm not too fond of this 'can't' business. You have a very obvious fairy godmother standing in front of you, ready to snap her fingers and say a catch phrase I created when I was younger. So tell me, Y/N, do you want to go to the ball?"

Without hesitation, you nodded and your fairy godmother waved her wand.

a/n: whoa cliffhanger, wonder what happens next...but seriously, i love doing AUs like this and I'll focus on getting my other wips out but lemme know if you enjoyed this??

[suffarustuffaru]

terrible ideas for rezero matching icons (arc 8 and ex spoilers)

spica going :D while julius and otto plot to kill her. this can even work extremely well without spica. here is some concept art. im gonna make this one real bc me and a pal wanna do it

^^ add in rem and subaru matching icons if you want (they’re screaming in horror)

felix / fourier / crusch but fourier is Deceased and felix and crusch are bawling

felix and julius………………………….. from That Scene in pride if

rowan, cecilus, and the heavenly sword.

cat garfiel and cat heinkel from garfiel’s theatre dream

rabbit. and subaru.

normal julius icon paired with a gluttonyed joshua.

pandora. and theresia. and a white bird

a set of astrea icons but louanna is eepy and theresia is just a jar of ash

greed if ottosuba icons but it’s a transparent otto going “gay gay homosexual gay” and subaru going “FUUUCK I CAN STILL HEAR HIS VOICE”. add in a matching echidna icon too

greed if subaru / a half-dead echidna. if you know you know

gluttonybaru / random ass book of the dead. like the matching icon to subaru is just a whole ass book

todd and subaru but like this:

^^ alternatively the same as the above but with louis and subaru

main route otto / a literal wall / greed if subaru

cute 🫶 matching icons but one is subaru and the other is satella’s shadow hands

emisuba icons but its them dead and holding hands from arc 1

anastasia, ram, subaru, and patrasche………………. from the miasma tunnel scene

meili / pushing amnesiabaru down those stairs

subaru…………………. and an unwashed cup

cute icon of emilia kissing subaru / subaru being FUCKJNG DEAD

arc 3 julisuba duel

julius / reid beating his ass

normal natsuki family icons!!!! with naoko, kenichi, an empty frame ("Subaru, where are you?"), and a jar of mayo.

subaru + getting stabbed/jumped by rachins, camberley, and gaston (the three guys from arc 1) + a hot woman watching them bc camberley has the dp of bedroom wiles—

cecilus / halibel / subaru (wrath if edition)

subaru, rem, their children, and appa man raising an eyebrow and asking him whether he is fine (sloth if subaru returning back to the arc 3 save point after dying of old age)

rem and “who?”

the barbie and ken meme with otto and subaru bc theyre definitely the kind of people to get arrested together. they literally have in a lost in memories if route

pridebaru doing half a hand heart / reinhard too busy crying to do the other half / emilia killing pride

little kid otto, otto’s cat crush, and the cat’s crush

joshua. and an apple. if you know you know

louis / rem strangling subaru LMFAOO

subaru flinging paperwork off frame / otto drowning in paperwork

the three idiots crossdressing! :) this is the most normal idea on this list.

EDIT BC I FORGOT TO ADD THIS ONE: regulus and reinhard in arc 5 being launched to the moon :)

some of these are ideas from my pals (you know who you are). also if you have more awful ideas or wanna see some of these become real feel free to say so 🙏🙏🙏

[sardar106]

had this in drafts for a while. sleep deprived brain decided to post it now instead of waiting for the anniversary, so

okay— Ash (@thepersonwithoutaname) said before that An Epilogue 2/22 by TE/MO is Icarus coming back home and reflecting on their life and other people’s view on it. and I agree on this a lot but… if you think about it being the anniversary the Cathedral… it’s specifically Icarus in the Worldport during the anniversary of the Cathedral reflecting on their life and what happened

and here’s why and why I shake it so hard (kinda line-by-line analysis (also my first song analysis real?))

A year out from the day And it still feels like yesterday That some part of me died Upon that slab of steel

point one, anniversary of something point two, the memories of it feel so close, they funky as Quixis point three, change that to stone and you got that perfectly

Cuz when you think that you can swim You don't expect the tides to pull you in Especially when you're wading into Rivers ankle deep

Icarus. moving on— (but seriously tho, the whole arc after the Cathedral)

Now I’m hunting my own body A ghost miserable and lost The spirit of that January And everything it cost…

Icarus and hunting? with everything that happened with Haley and then thinking that it happened to Centross and also just being Quixis in general. they’re not like what they used to be. they don’t have their wings. they don’t have their jewelry. they’re just Quixis January? like how the Cathedral was in January? yeah what the Cathedral is and the aftermath of it caused

How I wish I could return to claim The parts of me that burned Oh I was mean at times But least that was a choice

burned?? arson??? parts of them that burned?? yeah. “mean at times” that’s a bit of an understatement, my guy not all of it was their choice, but at least wanting him back was

Ambition's waiting by the door Finally returning from the war But she's been gone so long We can't recall her voice

change war to the stasis chamber Isla was in, it’s after Rae got her out yeah… they already didn’t before becoming Quixis

It's a gold rush fever Panning for the simplest bits of joy

Gold? in this economy? yeah, Icarus because of Fable after Cathedral they tried so hard, went through so much, to bring him back, to be able to bicker and be with him

Oh I used to get things done And honey, Lord help anyone That stood between me and The empires I made

could be about before corruption and stuff you see, I know that line is different, but “honey, Lord”? about Centross. they be gay. he be a god don’t really have anything for the two other lines

Now when shit gets hard I walk And I can't stand it when I start to talk I hate it more than you That I can't put it in a grave

Icarus walking instead of flying because “when shit gets hard” is when the phantom pain in their torso is strong talking in the Worldport just feels weird. especially when there’s no one around they just want to burry all that grief and anger towards Fable but they can’t and they hate that fact

Oh I wish I could return to claim The parts of me that burned Oh I was mean at times But least that was a choice

Ambition's waiting by the door Finally returning from the war But she's been gone so long We can't recall her voice

It's a gold rush fever Panning for the simplest bits of joy

all three same as the first time as they loop their thoughts

Moving on’s a luxury They'll say I can afford But with pockets starved of gold dust Babe, just how can I be sure?

basically flash back in this part they couldn’t move on from Centross’ death but they’ve seen the people around them be okay starved of gold dust? Fable. thinking about what if he doesn’t come back

If time heals every wound But no one mourns the wicked dead Then she'll be trapped forever With each sorry tear she shed

Icarus and Isla. Icarus and Isla. Icarus and Isla wounded by not having her around as a child they’e the wicked dead. just, no more words she was trapped for eternity she. just Isla. she’s so sad about not being there for her kids

Bodies they remember What the mind tries to forget Bodies they remember What the heart saw as a threat

My body it remembers What the mind tries to forget My body still remembers What my heart saw as a threat

the understand that. they understand that and they know it’s happening to everyone in the universe. but if we call back the first verse with it being the anniversary, their body freaking out when it hits the day

Wish I could return to claim The parts of me that burned Oh I was mean at times At least I made a choice

we’ve been over the first part. but the last line at least they made a choice. their choice in the Finale

Ambition's waiting by the door Finally returning from the war But she's been gone so long We can't recall like anything at this point

the last line again first they said they don’t remember her voice but they didn’t remember anything about her Rae did. he told them. but it was never their memories

How I wish I could return to claim The parts of me that burned Oh I was mean at times At least I wasn’t gone

yeah. yeah. at least they didn’t die in the cave it sucks a lot that they had to go and put everyone through that but if Fable got the portal, went in the Worldport and took Midas’ powers, things would’ve been much more fucked

Ambition's waiting by the door Finally returning from the war But she's been gone so long We’ve learnt to carry on…

they’ve learnt to carry on cuz they had to they had to live without her they had to live not just that, they forgot her. they carried on, in a sense

It's a gold rush fever Panning for a reason to be strong

they have to be strong all the universes are carried by their hands they can’t mess up they have to focus

Somehow it feels like this is only the beginning… But I guess that means I'm getting better, doesn't it? With how much the body remembers Healing is not linear… But we find a start in the end and Go from there

this part. oh, this part. it’s spoken, not sung. emotions are controlled, they are done with it all they’re Quixis and it’s been a year since the Cathedral. it’s a new beginning new beginnings means getting better the body remembers, the mind not as much, healing has ups and downs, there’s not a solid way to predict it just, yeah

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 114

Part 1 Part 113

It’s fully dark by the time they trundle into the trailer park. The sceneries nostalgic, almost. Steve at his side, his feet aching from too long upright, not another soul in sight. There’s no ash floating in the air, and no vines squirming on the ground, and the sky’s not an ominous red.

Will he ever be able to walk down this familiar stretch of street without thinking of that time?

He almost hopes not. Without the Upside-Down, when he and Steve ever come together like this?

Maybe it’s stupid, but he wants to hold onto those memories just as much as this one. They’re what got him here, holding Steve Harrington’s hand, floating past cloud nine and straight into the stratosphere.

His glasses are chock full of roses.

It’s a tragedy that he has to drop Steve’s hand to open and unlock the door, but he makes do.

Wayne’s on his recliner when they stumble through the door, holding a beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He glances away from the screen, double takes, then stares back, eyeing them both up and down with an eyebrow raised.

He takes a long, loud sip from his beer, then asks, “you boys have a fun night?”

Eddie glances at Steve, and it’s only then that he notices how disheveled they both must look. Steve’s lips are still swollen, and his hair’s fucked beyond repair. Steve’s eying Eddie in kind, making those same damning connections.

He looks worried around the edges, though, so Eddie does what he’s always done best: put on a show.

He turns to Wayne, hands planted on his hips and says, “Wayne, I’ve got something to tell you.” He reaches out, linking his hand with Steve’s once more. “I’m gay.”

Wayne snorts, coughing on his beer. It must burn because his eyes water as he gasps out, “you play too much, boy.” He wipes the overflow from his chin, glaring up at Eddie. “You finally figure your shit out?”

Eddie beams, squeezing Steve’s hand. “Stevie here figured it out for me.”

Wayne looks between them for a few seconds more before shrugging disinterestedly, says a flippant, “he’s my favorite son for a reason,” and then just turns back to the TV to continue flicking through channels.

And that’s it. That was all she wrote, and all that. The world just, keeps turning.

“Should we tell anyone?” Steve asks that night, curled up into his side the way he always is. “Besides Will?”

He pulls Steve closer, the fondness in his chest expanding to the point of pain. Will, who is a part of their fucked up little trio. Of course, they’ll tell him.

It might even help him come to terms with some things that were hard won, brutal battles for Eddie when he was Will’s age. Give the kid a little hope, and all that. Hope that there are partners better out there than Mike Wheeler, the turd.

Eddie hums, skimming his fingers up and down Steve’s arm. “Well, Wayne figured it out the minute he looked at us, that’s one down.” He holds up one finger before bringing it back to Steve’s arm and tapping it against it. “You told Carol, so that adds in her and Barb.” Fingers two and three, tap, tap.

“Jeff?”

“Oh, definitely Jeff.” Eddie raises a fourth finger, taps it once before unlocking his thumb so he can clutch Steve’s hand. He pulls it up to his own chest, pressing it to the beating of his heart. “He wants me to tell him about the Upside-Down.”

Steve’s quiet, and it’s too dark to read his face no matter how hard Eddie strains his eyes.

“Do you think I should?”

Steve sighs, digging his pointy chin into Eddie’s shoulder. “I don’t know, man.”

“Man,” Eddie cuts in, mockingly. “Your tongue was in my mouth like, ten minutes ago.”

Eddie’s body shakes with Steve’s quiet laughter. “Fine, whatever,” he huffs. “It’s not up to me, Loverboy.”

The nicknames got that same mocking edge Eddie himself had used. It still makes his heartbeat stutter in his chest.

“But I’m not sure this is a situation where not knowing would help them?” he continues, voice lilting up at the end like it’s a question. “I mean, it didn’t help us.”

Eddie sighs, letting himself melt into the springy mattress. Look at all of them. They’d left Carol in the dark, and she’d crawled her way into the inner circle by her hell-beast talons.

Stumbling around in the dark never helped anyone.

“I’ll think about it,” Eddie says, already knowing that its too late. The worm’s wriggled its way into his brain and made a home there.

But there’s an order to these things, and Will comes first, always. They clamber into Eddie’s van in the morning, ready to enjoy whatever somehow overcooked and overcooked concoction Mama Byers has made for breakfast.

Jonathan opens the door before they’re even out of the van. He leans against the door jam, crossing his arms and glaring hatefully out at them, still in his raggedy pajama pants.

“Johnny Boy!” Eddie calls, beaming as he bounds up to him, shoving past him to come into the house, uninvited. “You’re looking mighty cheerful this morning.”

“Sorry, I don’t have a cheerful face on for the early-morning uninvited guests,” he grumbles, stepping out of the way and letting Steve through with much less ire.

Eddie can’t blame him. Steve’s in his stupid yellow sweater looking soft and warm in the November air. Eddie can’t compete with that, doesn’t even want to.

“Is Will up?” Steve asks, in a far more appropriate volume for the early morning.  

Jonathan gestures toward the back of the house before stumbling over to the couch and sinking into it.

Mama Byers isn’t anywhere in sight, and the house is quiet enough that their voices may carry. Eddie’s not worried. These people are his family, and more importantly, they’re Will’s.

If the wall’s have got ears, he couldn’t pick anyone better to be listening. He’d bare any bit of himself here, if Will needs him to.

Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and pulls him along toward Will’s bedroom. It’s time to get this show on the road.

Part 115

[beescrafting]

Johnny's Family.

Okay okay so i've been thinkinng about this for to long.

So in the end of MW2 the 141 get Johnny's ashes, not his family, the 141.

So this either believes me to think that Johnny doesn't really have a family or he was for better words for less, cut off and kicked out.

NOW HERE ME OUT-

we know Johnny's fruity in the game, its been hinted to us that he's the gay one (not ghost, ghost is Bisexual or Pansexual depending on where you wanna go with that its a whole other can of worms frfr)

Johnny was also brought up catholic...

When Johnny came out his family kicked him out and cut him off, they practically cut him off from the family tree no longer claiming him as theirs.

Thats why the 141 get Johnny's ashes, that's why they don't go to his family, Johnny was banished from his family from once he came out, and what do you do when you have no money and are just outta high school? You join the army. Johnny joined the army to avoid being homeless.

This also means none of his family tapped him out of boot camp.

Anyway, this thought has been in my brain for awhile and god can you imagine Christmas or Thanksgiving for him? He stays on base because he doesn't actually have a family to go back to, yes they are all living unlike Ghost's but they want nothing to do with him due to him being Gay.

To be honest that just makes him more relatable for a lot of people who've had to deal with that.

It explains why Johnny's so angry, why they get his ashes, why they spread his ashes.

Johnny's ashes were spread on those green hills in Scotland, in those highlands. Johnny's ashes were most likely spread there due to him talking about good memories there as kid where he had a family before they kicked him out for being gay.

the 141 was the most family like thing he's had since he was a wee lad.

[localcanadiancreature62]

MORE Perfect Plan/Perfect World au lore

More of This au. This time with the logistics of the Perfect World itself and also Lobotomy Husbands stuff.

More Lobotomy Husbands musings + how the Perfect World works: There's no official law or government in Ford's Perfect World. Bill *IS* the law,he secretly enforces every law there by having his clones from the og Dimension 46'/ tell the actual cops what to do and he threatens to kill them if they don't comply. Although despite this,there's actual government officials cops and even Barack Obama as the president however they're just as fake as Ford's "family" since they're mere copies made to stabilize the dream world that Bill made for his researcher husband. There's even various civilians to populate the dream world,which are fake as well.

Bill and Ford have been married for 10 years,which is also the duration of how long the dream world has existed. Ford is now 70,and he has been 70 for a while as time doesn't fly in the Perfect World. No one ages here,they remain the same age as they were "created". Fidds and Stan are still in their 60s,the twins are 12,Wendy is 15,Soos is 21,etc. The general populace also stays in a permanent time stasis as no one ages or actually progresses besides the changes that Ford or Bill has made to the world.

The Henchmaniacs aren't allowed in the Perfect World,as Bill knows that those chaotic bastards will ruin the permanent stasis bubble he made for his husband in one way or another no matter how many times he threatens them as he knows that it's in their nature to destroy things as the monsters of the multiverse. Which is why Ford never actually sees Bill's friends despite the triangle often talking about them.

They're not actually married. Bill and Ford aren't actually married. Bill deadass just put a ring on himself and Ford then called it a day soon after the Perfect World was created,erasing the man's memory of him randomly giving him a ring and replacing the memory with an actual ceremony with the Henchmaniacs attending. Tfw you call a man your husband when you didn't even have a ceremony and just made him THINK you had one fr fr.

Fidds Stan Mabel Dipper Wendy and Soos are NOT aware of anything that's going on in the Perfect World. These mfs are literally empty husks with set instructions on how to act or feel,their personalities and desires are PROGRAMMED into them by Bill as if they were living dolls. Only Fiddleford is starting to become aware as Bill somehow managed to make him TOO advanced as he was given alll of the assets in order to be Ford's perfect bestie,which suddenly made him develop feelings and thoughts but Bill keeps erasing his memory every time so that he won't find out about the Horrors (everything is fake the world he lives in is a lie and his entire being is a lie and he's merely a clone of a man that was far more real than he is :]),but he doesn't know that this exact advanced copy will lead to his eventual defeat.

Ford is 100% aware of the horrific shit that Bill gets into like destroying and conquering worlds torturing people and literally having the entire multiverse under his palm but instead of being horrified about the fact that he's married to a monster,he's basically like "Oh that's nice,dear" because he's too damn happy and gay to notice how fucked up his triangular husband is. There is such a thing as being blinded by happiness...

The Perfect World was created after Bill grabbed the ashes of Dimension 46'/ and shaped the remains of the dimension into his researcher husband's happy place with his newfound abilities of controlling space matter and time. He made an entirely new dimension with the remains of the original one,one with moldable qualities and a permanent time stasis (Time Baby would be thoroughly pissed at the existence of a dimension where time doesn't progress if he was still alive). The Perfect World has since been called Dimension Infinity after the Axolotl acknowledged it as an official part of the multiverse, it's called such due to it having infinite possibilities with Bill constantly molding different aspects into it (but really out of universe,i just wanted it to sound cool fodndjdnd).

I was serious about Bill being the Ruler of the Multiverse. He deadass got exactly what he wanted after he made Weirdmaggedon global and "liberated" Dimension 46'/,with everyone in the multiverse worshipping him out of fear and slight admiration for managing to have the entire multiverse at his fingertips due to his sheer power. But really it was all because of his assets,and him realizing that he the more he uses his powers the more his power grows as he can now control EVERYTHING like he said "I can control Space,Matter,and now that the dumb baby is out of the way,Time itself!". Bill managed to get the Time Anomaly Removal Crew as well as Time Baby's old time soldiers at his side,he ended up having most dimensional rulers to agree to his demands regarding him being able to freely manipulate or destroy their worlds as he wishes lest they get their organs turned inside out,and he even got the Axolotl to let him take on their role of watching over the multiverse for them while also giving him permission to create worlds as he wishes. However the Axolotl was half bluffing,as they only let him take on the Multiverse Ruler role while not letting him freely create worlds besides being able to mold the Perfect World as he wishes. Because they knew that Bill's new plan was going to fail horribly one day,and letting him have everything he wants will slowly make him realize that he made a mistake once it all crumbles down on him in the end.

In the Perfect World,nothing gets in nothing gets out unless they have Bill's permission. Bill was somehow able to grab his memory of the Gravity Falls natural law of Weirdness Magnetism and he ended up expanding on it so that it would reach a dimensional scale. This is why interdimensional anomalies besides the ones that already exist inside of the Perfect World won't be able to get in,as only Bill has the ability to collapse the barrier with his current higher power level. No one really wants to stay there anyway save for a few refugees from decaying or destroyed dimensions,because everyone in the multiverse know that Bill is bad news and that they figured it would be better to not interact with him at all lest they get their skin turned inside out for merely insulting him or Ford. Bill did this because he doesn't want anyone to go in and ruin everything for his husband's dream world with their chaos.

I mentioned that the Perfect World doesn't change unless Bill or Ford do something to it. Bill's changes are usually precautionary measures or putting in things that Ford would like,such as a setting that causes any intruder to be electrocuted once they enter the buildings that they own/are associated with such as their condo the Oregon Institute of Oddology the Stanley Co Comics building Dipper and Mabel's house that they live with Stan and their fake ass parents (lightning bolts are set to appear and electrocute enemies until they die. Bill is playing with this world like the fuckin sims) and a museum where ancient extinct anomalies are on display (the bigfoot mothman etc) while Ford's changes are usually science/environment related such as having Bill invent a new mineral that replaces plastic so that people will use something renewable AND one that's better for the environment (also to feed his ego cuz he'll be hailed as a revolutionary for this invention loll) or making the triangle create a chemical that is more dangerous and potent than radiation so that he has better fuel for his giant death ray machine (made for.. entirely research related reasons and not because Ford wants to see a machine that can kill thousands,totally totally not).

Bill and Ford got EXACTLY what they wanted,with Bill being able to rule the multiverse with his genius by his side while Ford is a successful genius like he always wanted if he didn't fail to attend West Coast Tech university. They got everything they wanted,but at what cost?. At what cost,Bill/Ford?. Bill has to try everything to keep Ford happy lest he'd be all alone again with a miserable genius that hates him and things would go back to the bitter way they were while Ford is outright living a lie no matter how happy he is with it..

Ford is slightly more unhinged now that he lives in a world with no consequences i.e one where Bill can immediately reverse time to get rid of all casualties with his newfound power. He freely creates machines that can cause whole species' to go extinct,he has made guns that can kill a thousand men,the chemicals he has unleashed to the public are more noxious than any regular mineral,and he may or may not have made Bill create a self destruct device for their house if any intruders got in (it would kill the intruders by the time they escape). He is absolutely batshit insane and Bill loves him even more for it,especially when he's the one enabling Ford's crazy experiments without once making him doubt whether it's safe or not since he can just reverse everything whenever something goes wrong.

Oregon still technically exists in the Perfect World which is why it's called the OREGON Institute of Oddology,except Oregon America is the only place there. None of the other countries exist,Bill purposely made Oregon the only state and America the only country so that Ford would never want to leave (talk about possessive amiright?). He isn't even aware of the fact that he's living in the middle of nowhere nor the fact that America is the only country smack dab in the middle of an empty white void as he's too preoccupied with his picture perfect life to care.

Story wise,the beginning and the end has all of the lore and fucked up shit. The middle part however,is entirely just happy Lobotomy Husbands. As this particular section contains the entirety of their 10 year marriage. (okay but it's so funny that the entirety of the story is in two parts meanwhile there's a whole section where there's just married gay people pffft).

This au is set in Gravity Falls,but it's no longer a geographical anomaly when it's literally the only place that exists in the Perfect World's version of Oregon. The town is exactly the same as canon,only with no mayor or founder or history with the Northwests and Bill is it's sole leader.

[rei-ismyname]

From The Ashes - Mystique

So, Mystique has her own book once more with issue #1 dropping on October 16th. Given the state of the Marvel world at the moment (or at least the X-books, everyone else seems focused elsewhere while mutants are being slaughtered and imprisoned... again) it really feels like Raven Darkholme's time to shine.

Looks cool but feels like something's missing

She hasn't had a solo book since 2004 - 20 years - and a lot has changed since then. She was quite the breakout character during the Krakoan age - she got her wife Destiny back, she found a sort of understanding with their son Nightcrawler (and we all learned the truth of the retcon in a pretty slick way), and perhaps most importantly we got a sense of her interiority. I'd be remiss in not mentioning Rogue, but they weren't really in each other's orbits until Fall of X. YMMV, but she became sympathetic for the first time ever. We got to see her interact with almost everyone as an uneasy ally while still being her bad bitch black ops self. Not friends, but on the same team with the overarching investment in keeping their shared home working. There was a foundation of connective tissue there right until the end.

Be Gay, Do Crime?

Alas, the wheel has turned again and Krakoa is no more. The connective tissue is gone. However, out of the three people she was closest to narratively - Destiny, Kurt and Rogue - the relationship I'm truly invested in seeing more of is her and Destiny. The book isn't called Mystique and Destiny, and she's not in any of the solicits or preview artwork, but surely they wouldn't do a Mystique book without her, would they?

My favourite sapphic terrorists

Yeah, I think they would tbh. Destiny is a very complex character to write and she was so entwined with Krakoa from the start in HoxPoX due to the nature of her gift - seeing possible futures. As the narrative pulls away from Krakoa, as we look for those pieces of connective tissue, as character growth is left by the wayside or undone, the world and stories are getting much smaller. Destiny had reached the promised land and her gift was focused on survival - of the married couple and Krakoa itself. I'm just not sure where she'd fit in a From The Ashes world.

Such a strong partnership too - Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler.

The elephant in the room is that the pair are very popular and I'm pretty sure the Mystique-buying demographic would have something to say about Destiny being absent. I'm thinking the Magneto treatment is likely, some contrived way of keeping her in the margins of the run or even depowering her. We know Mystique is going to be more of a face than she's been in the past, 'protecting mutants.' That is a good thing as her motivations were often baffling pre-2019. Her behaviour was often handwaved with 'craziness' which is not good for any character, especially a woman.

Destiny in her distinctive mask is visible in this header, although...

This was somewhat explained in Fall of X that Xavier's (consensual) memory tampering knocked something loose, for lack of a better term. I'm hoping the growth we saw sticks, and I don't think that's unrealistic, it's the rest of it. What prompted me writing this was the AIPT review of the first issue. It all sounds exciting but the only other character mentioned is Nick Fury, nothing on Destiny. Any reviewer worth their salt should have a sense of expectations, and the absence feels meaningful.

Obviously this is all speculation, which is fun, though I'm not going off nothing here. I'm trying to be mindful of being the 'Krakoa was the best and this shit sucks' person, but Krakoa WAS the best and I really don't want From The Ashes to suck. I don't have any control over that, though I do have control over my expectations.

Bling! knows what's up, leaning on the fourth wall.

The last thing I think needs consideration is that the couple got the Wedding Special very recently. It was pretty good, though I thought the best parts were the Claremont interview and Anole's ongoing protest. But it was popular!

Mystique would LOVE that. Bisexual Menace for life.

He ended up putting it on a t-shirt. I need one!

As fun as it was and as much hype it got at the time, remember that it was a Pride Month thing. Ever the rainbow capitalists, Marvel picked a winning focus but I don't think they'd have done outside of Pride Month. Sadly, that might apply to their relationship as well. I think it would be a miscalculation, but the signs point to it being a solo book. As I often say in my doomsaying posts, we shall see and I hope I'm wrong.

They're just too iconic and work so well together. Don't get me wrong, good writing can make anything work. Aside from my ongoing mourning of Krakoa, WLW rep is important and for all their faults they deserve love like everyone else. Maybe a Sisterhood of Evil Morally Ambiguous Mutants is on the cards?

[joapmactavish]

imagine soap recognizing that you’re stressed out with your current work and he knows you guys can’t leave base so he sets up a blanket and pillows outside for you to stargaze -

| no warnings just fluff and jokes, reader calls ghost gay (real) , can be interpreted however you want (gn reader, f!reader, m!reader), can be platonic or romantic although my intentions are leaning on a romantic bond. dialogue color code: soap: light blue, price: purple, ghost: red, gaz: green(can you guys tell that i love them and want to put them all in my pocket) | • this is generally a softer portrayal of the guys, if u aren’t into that sorta thing that’s cool just a heads up •

“ca’mere lassie, wanna show you sumthin”

he leads you outside by the hand and you’re met with a little blanketed area on the soft grass , plush pillows and he’s even lit your favorite candles / incense - he lays down and opens his arms for you to join him and you both wrap your arms around eachother - your legs intertwined being as close as possible - feeling his heartbeat against you.

“i know there’s not much we can do here sweetness, and this may be cheesy but i know how much ye love random surprises, just wanted to give you a little change of routine tis all”

you scrunch your eyebrows at him saying it’s cheesy, “you do know i’m a sucker for anything cutesy you do johnny, but this is so sweet, look how bright the stars look! so pretty.”

“they look wonderful but they’re nothing compared to you bonnie, you’re my stars, my moon, my world, hell- the entire universe and you’ve made my life infinitely better”

you give him a pout and scooch up to give him a kiss, “nothing i say can be better than that, but just know i love you too and-“ you’re stuttering now and he chuckles “and- i agree but l- yknow- that- i-“ you take a quick pause and he nods at you teasingly, “you’re my world.”

the guys find you two outside and you end up finding yourself all together sharing the moment now, so of course you all have to adjust and make room.

your head is laying on soaps shoulder while he has his arm wrapped around you, price has his head laid against your legs, gaz is behind the 3 of you with his head on the same pillow soaps head is on but he’s laying on the opposite side and ghost is sitting criss cross (apple sauce ofc) by you all.

price lights his cigar and takes a deep sigh - tension leaving his body as he relaxes his shoulders .

“ya know y/n, you really do know how to bring us all together in your own goofy way.”

“WHAT?! I SET THIS UP?” soap replies and you gaz and ghost laugh.

“yeah was all him, not me cap’n! i swear!”

“ah yes, if it were you- there would’ve been tea.” he flicks the ash off the end of his cigar

soap rolls his eyes, “fuckin brits . . . never tired of the damn tea”

you don’t know how but you all end up out there all night - sharing jokes and stories, childhood memories, playfully making fun of eachother and cuddling like chumps, price asking you to run your hands through his scalp and huffing anytime you stop (like when a dog side eyes you as you stop petting them) and then quickly smiling when you continue - you even caught simon swinging his legs while you were sharing scary stories and you and gaz almost died of laughter

“that shit was gay as hell” and he just rolls his eyes and grunts

but what did it for soap was the fact that gaz starts snorting with his laugh, and you’re wheezing.

these men were known to be very intimidating scary beings, soldiers and fighters first - but ever since you joined them they started remembering to have more fun - being that they joined this line of work so early in their lives they lost most of the opportunity to just exist and be. after the shit they’ve been through in their lives, you manage to just strengthen the faith they have in humanity with your caring tendencies.

after a while you can hear price snoring and ghost lets out a “heh, the old man’s fell asleep”

price slurs out a tired “m’not sleepin- just resting my eyes soldier.”

“right, i too snore when i “”rest my eyes”” sir” gaz says,

you just shush them and giggle but lightly, not to stir price since he’s against you still, arm now wrapped around your leg.

[ca-suffit]

sorry how long this is, but this fandom is pissing me off so much and I need to rant a little before I explode lol.

-- madeleine (nonchalantly) says of sleeping with a literal nazi, "I was inviting a frightened boy to cradle my tits," and then when louis turns her we see this as a pleasant memory, and I'm supposed to believe someone who could take pity on a nazi (even if he "wasn't dedicated to the cause") and remember him fondly isn't going to be racist? so I'm the weird one for finding claudeine to be a gross ship and being exasperated by seeing edits of them flood my dash? and every time I talk about this on ANY platform, I mostly get ignored and the few people who do interact w my posts are denying it and saying she had to do it to survive, as if she didn't also literally say she grew up rich like 30 seconds prior.

-- a decent chunk of the anti lestat crowd insists he participated in the trial as an act of revenge and can't say his name w/o talking about how they hate him (bc his racism + abuse), and these are the same people going apeshit over ben daniels saying that santiago was gay and in love with armand, as if he isn't one of the most antiblack characters we've met on the show bc he was quite literally eager to put on the trial solely bc he hated louis for falling asleep during one of his performances. and don't get me started on his monologue about claudia's ashes. and yet ppl are excitedly eating ben's interview up. 🙄

-- the narrative literally showing us that lestat has changed since the attempted murder (going off script on the trial in defense of louis & claudia, taking accountability for his abuse, staying silent about the fact that he was the one to save louis & letting him leave w armand when we know how terrifying being alone is for lestat, spending decades living in that shack and eating rats to punish himself vs the hedonistic & decadent lifestyle we saw him living in s1) and the anti lestat crowd claiming this is just him being manipulative and are furious that the writers had louis forgive him. like normally I agree that it's in very poor taste to paint an abuser as sympathetic, but the thing about this show is that these characters are immortal and have all the time in the world to change. like this isn't the writers sweeping it under the rug, they're explicitly acknowledging how horrific lestat's behavior was and there are literally canon glimpses showing us that lestat has become a better person (and I'm sure this will be fleshed out more next season as we'll get his pov) and, like, isn't it a good thing to see an abusive character realize the error of their ways and alter their behavior and become better????? like it's fair to not want to see that, but this is the wrong show to be watching if you can't handle seeing abusers change their ways & being forgiven by the people they've hurt (especially since it's pretty much confirmed armand/daniel is going to happen at some point and given I'm sure they'll be circling around each other, I feel confident that louis will eventually forgive armand too)

ur fine, u can rant! I have a lot in my inbox but I try to get to it all eventually in whatever way.

idk how much u wanted me to comment on anything or not, but I'm gonna add comments and u do whatever u want with it.

a) ur never going to have an easy time criticizing a white woman in fandom. it reflects too much of what fandom is usually made up of and ppl will usually tell u it's misogyny to judge these characters if u ever try (most of the time it's not, but that's a convenient excuse to shut down convos).

the show intentionally makes everyone do p questionable shit, especially the white characters. it doesn't tell u how to feel about it, that's up to u. that makes ppl uncomfortable. it goes further too when it is someone like madeleine, who is otherwise seen in positive ways. it's reflective of real life and that's what scares ppl the most. nobody ever fits in a box of only "good" or "bad." a lot of what the book for IWTV asks too is what defines that anyways? and S1 also said "are we the sum of our worst moments?" so it is constantly asking u that and it is for u to decide and reflect on.

b) white, gay stuff is also gonna be popular in fandoms. ben daniels is also gay irl and his husband just died so there's crossover from that to praising his character bcuz ppl feel sympathy for him. I also think ppl detach more from his actions bcuz he's not romantically linked to the characters he's torturing. ppl also just honestly dgaf about antiblackness anyways so for most ppl it's easy to overlook. which is how we get posts like this.

I mean, u can also like whatever characters u like for any reason. some ppl like characters not bcuz they support what they do, but bcuz they're just enjoyable to watch in performance or connection to the plot or whatever. I think examining santiago after what ben said about his performance is something ppl should be able to do, and again it circles back to the stuff I wrote for madeleine. where does ur (general u) discomfort lie and why? as u said, if it's ppl who dislike lestat then it's worth looking at that too, why are the characters different then?

c) there's sort of 2 things happening for this part. the first is that 2x8 did have pacing issues, for whatever reasons. a lot of ppl felt like it flattened the plot and characters for the sake of making lestat look the best (over armand) and rly shoving it in out of nowhere. the second part is what u said about the themes. I've always figured they were going to explore forgiveness and personal growth, but I also know it isn't going to be easy for ppl to follow. hopefully the full seasons coming do a better job of this but for 2x8 there were a lot of reasons ppl felt crazy about the way it was shown to us. I also agree that other characters will have these journeys with each other too. it was just such a sharp turn for S2 to end on highlighting the white character we've otherwise seen as being p horrible and suddenly saying "it's the brown character who rly did the worst!" I don't think they intended to come across like that but it's how it landed for a lot of ppl. it doesn't mean ppl have an issue with the concept of forgiveness and stuff otherwise. we'll have to see how it goes. but ya there's 2 things going on there for this rn.

[maybeitsalive]

Philip Marlowe, BI: Novels quotes (part 1)

Look, someone had to do it…

When I say Philip Marlowe is bi, I know I’m preaching to the choir, but maybe you need to make someone else realize this very important truth. For your convenience, here’s some quotes from the novels, so you can prove that you’re not ins- okay, you’re on Tumblr so you’re probably insane, but now you’re insane with proof at the tip of your fingers.

This is not an exhaustive list, the quotes are all Marlowe-centred (otherwise I’d quote half the books) and your mileage may vary.

The Big Sleep

Chap 11

“I was beginning to think perhaps you worked in bed, like Marcel Proust.” “Who’s he?” I put a cigarette in my mouth and stared at her. She looked a little pale and strained, but she looked like a girl who could function under a strain. “A French writer, a connoisseur in degenerates. You wouldn’t know him.”

(Reminder that Proust was gay as hell.)

Chap 13

“The pug sidled over flatfooted and felt my pockets with care. I turned around for him like a bored beauty modeling an evening gown.”

Chap 24

“She called me a filthy name. I didn’t mind that. I didn’t mind what she called me, what anybody called me. But this was the room I had to live in. It was all I had in the way of a home. In it was everything that was mine, that had any association for me, any past, anything that took the place of a family. Not much; a few books, pictures, radio, chessmen, old letters, stuff like that. Nothing. Such as they were they had all my memories. I couldn’t stand her in that room any longer. What she called me only reminded me of that.”

(it’s probably a queer slur. Even the radio drama included it.)

Chap 28

“Just a plain pine box,” I said. “Don’t bother with bronze or silver handles. And don’t scatter my ashes over the blue Pacific. I like the worms better. Did you know that worms are of both sexes and that any worm can love any other worm?”

Farewell my lovely

Oh boy. I had to skip a lot.

Chap 3

“He just picked me up. I’m kind of cute sometimes.”

Chap 22

“I think I went to sleep, just like that, with a bloody face on the table, and a thin beautiful devil with my gun in his hand watching me and smiling.”

Chap 35

Everything about Red, but there you go:

“He smiled a slow tired smile. His voice was soft, dreamy, so delicate for a big man that it was startling. It made me think of another soft-voiced big man I had strangely liked.” (ie Malloy)

Chap 36

“I looked at him again. He had the eyes you never see, that you only read about. Violet eyes. Almost purple. Eyes like a girl, a lovely girl. His skin was as soft as silk. Lightly reddened, but it would never tan. It was too delicate. He was bigger than Hemingway and younger, by many years. He was not as big as Moose Malloy, but he looked very fast on his feet. His hair was that shade of red that glints with gold. But except for the eyes he had a plain farmer face, with no stagy kind of handsomeness.”

“I told him about it. I told him a great deal more than I intended to. It must have been his eyes.”

Chap 37

(Still about Red:)

“Put your dough away,” Red said. “You paid me for the trip back. I think you’re scared.” He took hold of my hand. His was strong, hard, warm and slightly sticky. “I know you’re scared,” he whispered. “I’ll get over it,” I said. “One way or another.” He turned away from me with a curious look I couldn’t read in that light.”

(About Brunette:)

“He had a cat smile, but I like cats. He was neither young nor old, neither fat nor thin. Spending a lot of time on or near the ocean had given him a good healthy complexion. His hair was nut-brown and waved naturally and waved still more at sea. His forehead was narrow and brainy and his eyes held a delicate menace. They were yellowish in color. He had nice hands, not babied to the point of insipidity, but well-kept. His dinner clothes were midnight blue, I judged, because they looked so black. I thought his pearl was a little too large, but that might have been jealousy.”

The High Window

Nothing too obvious.

The Lady in the Lake

Chap 3

“He had everything in the way of good looks the snapshot had indicated. He had a terrific torso and magnificent thighs. His eyes were chestnut brown and the whites of them slightly gray-white. His hair was rather long and curled a little over his temples. His brown skin showed no signs of dissipation. He was a nice piece of beef, but to me that was all he was. I could understand that women would think he was something to yell for.” (…) “At the moment I’m not doing anything,” he said coldly. “I expect a commission in the navy almost any day.” “You ought to do well at that,” I said. (...) “So long, beautiful hunk,” I said, and left him standing there.”

(He said the last one to be a jerk but he said it.)

Chap 13

(All of it is a scene between a half-naked Marlowe and the three guys he's bribing with booze and money. Personally I think it’s just a mix between it’s too hot + zero-fuck-given attitude, but I can’t not mention it.)

Unsurprisingly this got long, so part 2 is coming.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

more salty commentary about.... salty fandom commentary, but for a fandom i'm not really involved with

ftr this is about the gay-ass (affectionate) vampire show

squinting at some of super vitriolic anti-armand commentary that tumblr's algorithm keeps throwing at me like 'this? you want this one bestie? no? what about this one instead?' when in fact i want none of these takes, actually. "i don't believe a word that comes out of that lying liar's mouth!!" "of course he could have stopped claudia and madeleine's murders, he's the most powerful vampire in the world!!" (uh, i'll come back to that one later. maybe. if i feel like it) "he was onboard the 'let's murder claudia!' train from the very beginning!!!" etc. if you're even peripherally keeping your finger on the pulse of this fandom's discourse, you've probably seen some of this, too.

and... okay. bearing in mind two things:

it's been about 20+ years since i read the original novels, and

the show's relationship to the original novels, as well as the 1994 movie, is both conversational and subversive,

two seasons into this delicious mess, how are we still collectively failing to recognize that the central conceit of amc's retelling is that, intentional or not, all recollection of louis' past is both catharsis (for louis) and performance (for ???)? that all of louis' recollection of his own actions, as well as the actions of the other vampires in his orbit, is filtered through the lens of his own feelings about those vampires in that moment? like this isn't a subtle storytelling device, this is something the show is repeatedly bashing us over the head with again and again and again: louis' reliability as a narrator of his own experiences can't be trusted even when he isn't so consumed with rage that he tries to drain twenty year old daniel molloy dry for the unforgivable crime of /checks my notes, mouthing off at him like a dumbass, or goes into vulgar detail describing to lestat precisely how he is going to kill him, cut his head off, and then feed his decapitated head to lions at the zoo. which, it bears mentioning, is not the version of events that we were presented with during s1, but it is the version of events that louis himself comes to reluctantly believe is the more accurate recollection of the past.

does that make lestat into The Real Victim™️ who did nothing wrong to louis or claudia, ever? please tell me you're not actually asking me this question. be serious.

the point is that louis is right in the thick of feeling his intensely passionate vampire feelings about armand in real time, in the present day, while looking backwards through time at the 77 years they have spent together, and he is questioning everything. justifiably so, for the record! why wouldn't he question the actions and motivations of the supposed love of his life after discovering that such an important memory from his and daniel molloy's shared past was erased from his mind? but seriously, if you have reached this point in the story and your takeaway from the last episode boils down to "THIS TIME louis' recollection of the past is definitely 100% accurate! the rose-tinted glasses are OFF and we can see the TRUTH about you now armand!!!" then i just. i don't know what to say to you. lmfao.

anyway rather than getting into the weeds with anyone actually in the fandom about which of these diva vampire daddies is right, actually, find me hanging out with claudia and madeleine's ashes giving all of them the proverbial finger. because honestly, fuck all these vampires (affectionate).