#either. he's dead bc that's easier for them to swallow and he's alive bc no one ever actually told them he died. he's dead because he left

[th3houseofleaves]

never actually said this but dove just assumes their dad is dead. it's not a concrete fact like they act like it is. but it's easier to live thinking he's dead than it is thinking he left them. so. even though there's a chance that he's still alive somewhere, they don't look into it. they can't really explain why either, no one understands it; most people believe they should be actively trying to find out if he's alive or dead, they think dove is weird for not wanting that. they don't understand that dove doesnt want to find out their dad has been alive this whole time and he just abandoned them when things got too hard.

[touchmycoat]

qijiu bingqiu (bingliushen??) fix-it fic planning blabber

so i think i gotta keep it tight on SJ’s POV. Right before his death, he makes a deal with Xin Mo (who’s kind of a lone operator bc LBH too has to fight its power) to create this alternate timeline in exchange for his cultivation. Xin Mo can open up new dimensions no problem, and with SJ’s cultivation, it even manages to rewind the timeline. That’s not enough though—Xin Mo’s goal is only consumption, so it takes the deal but reveals there’s nothing that will actually change. The price SJ paid only opened the door.

But that’s fine, ‘cause SJ saw it coming. He also strikes another deal, this time with Death itself? Some sort of large cosmic force. The only thing he wants changed is Qi-ge’s death, and in exchange...the universe takes him. SJ will not get to exist in that second universe. SJ takes the deal.

And that’s the start of canon. SJ-as-SQQ can no longer exist. Instead, SY-as-SQQ is brought in. In order to stay cohered though, YQY’s memories and personality get a little glitched—he is physically incapable of recognizing all the ways SQQ is now not SJ. That’s why, despite SY-as-SQQ clearly being OOC, YQY never seems to see it.

Canon happens, now we’re in the post-canon world where bingqiu are married and settling down, but SQQ still kicks it with his buddies LQG and YQY every now and then. YQY still firmly believes SQQ is SJ, to SY’s increasing consternation. Is it just delusions and wishful thinking? The more YQY treats him as SJ though, the worse SY feels—he shouldn’t be stealing all this affection that doesn’t belong to him.

It all comes to head when SQQ overhears public opinion on YQY, how he’s perfect in everything but his crazy devotion to SQQ. SY thinks enough is enough. He can’t bring SJ back but he sure can tell YQY that his Xiao Jiu is dead, right? The System warns him he’ll be punished but that’s fine, it’s just not fair, SQQ can take another little mental horror trip down to BinggeLand if it means YQY can have some closure.

Except that’s not what happens. He gets YQY in private and says, “no, you don’t understand, Shen Jiu is dead.” He sees the recognition in YQY’s eyes, but he also sees the moment that recognition gets wiped. The sad smile that had fallen off of YQY’s face returns, eerily happy, as YQY says, “my apologies, Qingqiu-shidi, I must have spaced out just now, what did you say?”

Right before the System kicks him into another punishment phase, SY tries again: “Shen Jiu is dead!” He sees the recognition disappear once again from YQY’s eyes.

Inside the punishment world, Bingge has him again. “I’ve been searching for an answer to why the sniveling pathetic version of me gets you as his Shizun, and I think I figured it out.” For a moment, SY’s horrified by the possibility that Bingge has figured out his transmigrator status—if his punishment figures it out, would he be trapped inside the punishment forever? But instead, Bingge says, “Liu Qingge is still alive, meaning Shizun didn’t kill him in the spirit caves. Did his survival render such a dramatic change?” SQQ”s like “yup, yup that’s definitely it. We’re such good friends, he really changed my outlook on life, so I treated you better, mhm.”

“Shizun’s very clever then to save his own life this way. Xin Mo’s already told me about your little bargain.”

That’s how SY learns that SJ had made a deal. Holy shit, he’d thought it was just random phenomenon this whole time, but the original goods had made it all possible? He didn’t know whether to thank SJ or curse him.

But that can’t be the whole story—Xin Mo opened up a timeline, that doesn’t explain why SY is here. Bingge doesn’t know this part, but it sure feels like SJ made a second deal, paying with his life.

What would motivate the original goods to do all this? Sacrifice his hard-won cultivation and his entire existence in this last-ditch effort?

The memory of YQY’s glitching came to mind.

Holy shit. SY owns the two of them more than he’d ever thought.

After the punishment, SY goes back home. He’s with Binghe, and LBH can tell there’s something troubling him.

“Binghe, there’s something this husband wants to do, and I need your help to do it.”

“Shizun, anything.”

“...But there’s a risk it might hurt you. There’s a risk it might ruin everything. It might be straight-forward, but it also might not be. It’s safer for all of us—but especially you, Binghe—if I just let things be.”

“But it’s not something that Shizun can just let be, is it? Otherwise Shizun wouldn’t have said anything. Binghe is honored to help. Anything to ease Shizun’s mind.”

“...I promised I wouldn’t let you come to harm again, and I meant that. Whatever happens, remember that I am your husband, this is my call, and you must do whatever you need to do to protect yourself, okay? Swear to me, Binghe.”

SQQ begins figuring out how to use Xin Mo to go fetch SJ from the other timeline. He figures that if Bingge could exist in this dimension without destroying the space-time continuum, the same ought to be true for SJ. Only trouble is, he can only go get SJ after SJ’s made the deals, because otherwise it’s a paradox, and he wouldn’t exist.

So SQQ brings home limbless, post-torture!SJ. That’s where the fic starts.

By all accounts, the deals are squared: SJ no longer has cultivation and SJ died in SY’s dimension, so SY successfully exists. SJ and SY can exist in the same space totally fine, and SJ begins healing.

(Currently, the fic is completely from SJ’s POV, and very much about coming to terms with being saved and what the hell is going on in this better world.)

The trouble is, SY doesn’t know what’s going to happen when SJ meets YQY again. SJ very thoroughly declines the offer to go see YQY because part of SJ still believes this whole thing is a trick, and if he goes to see YQY he’ll ruin his end of the bargain and YQY will die again. For SY’s part, he’s afraid of SJ going to see YQY too for similar but opposite reasons—if SJ going to see YQY ruins SJ’s end of the bargain, then wouldn’t that mean SY can no longer exist? Would SY just disappear from this universe?

So we get ragtag group therapy fun times. SJ thinks this is probably all an illusion Xin Mo is tricking him with, so treats everything with scorn but also existential apathy. This actually works to his benefit because he’s not clinging to things as hard, and it’s easier for him to admit, for example, that he was definitely in the wrong for abusing LBH, and yeah he was being a spiteful bitch when he did not need to be.

SY tries to keep LBH away from SJ mostly, because c’mon, he’s not about to make his darling husband face his childhood abuser. He does explain the situation to LBH though, in the same terms that Bingge had (mis)understood it lmfao—that the act of saving LQG’s life had prompted an entire 180 on his personality so he came out of the spirit caves a better man. LBH’s jealous as fuck of course, but damn if that doesn’t explain some things. Given the opportunity to see his old and new Shizun side-by-side, LBH takes it, and really gets a moment to see how horribly he’s been treated by SQQ.

So it actually prompts some therapy between SY and LBH too. LBH used to figure that getting pushed into the Abyss was squared by SQQ sacrificing himself to save him. But ofc it turned out SQQ came back and kept on, in his perspective, trying to get away from him. Trying to leave him behind. SQQ’s tried to treat his abandonment issues by going “okay sorry about that I’ll never leave you behind again” but he’s never really explained it.

SJ’s presence gives Binghe the ability to ask the question again and gives SY an answer: shame and cowardice. They’re able to put SJ’s mistreatment of Binghe right in front of them and SY-as-SQQ gets to explain how much it hurt to look back on that bit of their past, but also how much he feared LBH's retaliation. LBH is a little hurt, but also he remembers how he’d raped SQQ under Xin Mo’s control and, looking at what’s left of SJ now, he sees his own darkest possibilities. He really did destroy the man he loves now in another timeline. That helps him contextualize SY’s fears and why SY chose to push him off the cliff.

LQG crashlands into the middle of this whole party as is his wont. He gets a little fix-it too maybe. SY very staunchly repeats the reason for his personality swap—saving LQG in that cave made him a Better Person™. Meeting the original goods again, LQG is forced to believe it. Or like, it doesn’t really matter to him either way, but now he really does see pre-cave SQQ and post-cave SQQ as two completely different people.

SJ though, has to swallow this really weird pill. He remembers trying to save LQG inside the cave but failing, and then getting blamed for LQG’s death. If he’d succeeded, he and LQG would’ve become...this close?? A life debt between them would’ve changed his outlook on life so much???

Well whatever. Now that he’s put down all his old posturing, he more readily gives his reasons for why LQG gets on his nerves so much: the insufferable confidence (arrogant prick), the skills to back it up (privileged bastard), and a flawless cultivator family with all the money and the training and the pedigree. (Meanwhile SY’s like “oh shit that’s me too hahahahah awkward, good thing he still thinks i’m him so he doesn’t just murder me immediately.)

LQG’s a little weirded out too. SY-as-SQQ is his favorite person in the world, so it’s hard to get angry at SJ-as-SQQ since they’re “the same person.” He’s more willing to talk all this out with SJ and brings up all their old beef on his side too: high-handed snootiness coupled with underhanded dick moves, also the whole sleeping-with-prostitutes thing hurting Cang Qiong’s reputation. Ofc they’re snapping at each other this whole time. “There’s no reason for you to do all that!”

SY intervenes if needed. “Actually there is.” Considering the fact that SJ gets indicted for so many things that actually turn out to be not his fault, SY figures he’ll just get it out there. “Remember Qiu Haitang’s accusations against me? I grew up a slave in that household. I grew up believing it was kill or be killed—it doesn’t make sabotaging others right, but...that’s why the Spirit Caves made such an impression on me. I learned it wasn’t just kill or be killed, I can also save people. It opened my eyes to everything I already had, and everything I should be grateful for.”

This is for both LQG and SJ. And it works, to some degree. SJ knows he managed to claw to the top of privilege, but he still felt horribly insecure there. That’s because, he realizes, he never got the thing that would actually grant him security. It's not power or money or reputation—it’s Qi-ge. Holy hell he misses Qi-ge. In anger and betrayal, he’d pushed YQY continuously out of his life, but when faced with certain death the only regret he actually had was bringing Qi-ge down with him. YQY was meant to have survived, and in this world, he did.

So now, after all that, SJ really, really wants to go see his Qi-ge. It’s nice to have survived (and gotten part of his power back—at the very beginning, SY gives one of SQQ’s eyes to SJ as a bit of his golden core in order to save SJ’s life), but it’s so damn hard to live on in this world knowing YQY is only so far away, still very deeply attached to Xiao Jiu.

They try to Cyrano it at first. SY-as-SQQ goes to YQY with SJ’s voice in his ear, telling SY how to treat YQY as him. YQY is so fucking touched and hopeful, and SY is damn uncomfortable. He goes running back to SJ and says it’s not going to work—it’s not going to work because he’s no longer Qi-ge’s Xiao Jiu. He’s Luo Binghe’s husband, okay? He can’t go back to YQY as SJ.

SJ’s fucking furious at first (what kind of shitty variation of himself saves LQG’s life and then falls out of love with Qi-ge???? bitch?????) but what can he do? LQG tells them YQY’s on his way here and SJ hides for now. They still don’t know what will happen if SJ meets YQY, so SY continues to front as SJ for now.

But during this conversation, something changes. Maybe YQY says something, but SJ realizes he’s actually a little willing to take this chance. If Qi-ge does disappear—easy, he’d just kill himself right after. He’d already experienced Qi-ge’s death twice before, and at least this time, he can follow, knowing he’s at least reconciled with Qi-ge through SY.

And if he disappears on his own, then at least he knows there’s a world in which Qi-ge does not die horribly. That’s enough for him.

That, however, leaves the very last possibility—that SY will disappear. At this point both LQG and LBH have figured this out, and are very, very reluctant to let this be the scenario. They don’t see it as two people, they see it as their version of SQQ vs. YQY’s version of SQQ.

So there’s a little tension, but in the end, SY gets the final choice. As soon as he learns SJ is willing to go see YQY, he chooses that path. He simply owes qijiu too much to deny them the possibility of reconciliation. So despite knowing he might disappear from Binghe and LQG’s life, he makes it happen.

(They should get a very painful goodbye scene.)

SY goes out to explain things. “Zhangmen-shixiong may have noticed my change since my qi deviation and the spirit caves.” “I’m happy Xiao Jiu has a brighter outlook on life.” “Yes, but I think Qi-ge, of all people, might actually prefer how I was before, right?” “If Xiao Jiu’s happy, I’m happy.” “Yes, but Shen Jiu wants you. Is that alright?” “—of course. I want Xiao Jiu too—”

SJ comes out. Everyone holds their breath.

Scene cut.

It’s said that Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan disappeared suddenly one afternoon...

But jk, YQY just ran away with SJ, they’re recuperating in the mountains and everybody’s fine and it’s a happy ending.

[alias-b]

Nothing Lasts Forever.

Summary. The town of Derry changes people. Sends them running away. What it draws in is arguably worse. Humans create the hate and evil monsters come to feed off of. Eleanor Baker knew that well at a young age when she stumbled upon a painted figure in the distance. Pennywise never forgot the girl without fear. It’s possible that they haunted each other.

AN: I take no responsibility for this. Me flexing some horror and hopelessness bc I have nothing left to lose here. Wrote this to work through some things and sorta in love with it. TW: Should be obvious. Trauma. CSA mention. Abuse. S*xual references. G*re. S*icidal thoughts.  Death. Pennywise F*cks and it’s canon. Sorry, Mr. King.

Pennywise x OC Eleanor Baker ~ Also on my ao3

   They say she saw It first.

   They say she smelled the circus. Sugary sweet and the rusting of metal.

   They say she heard the bells toll soft. Once. Twice for her.

   They say she felt no fear.

   A branch cracked under pristine shoes, distracting a clown in the midst of hunt. The prey; small and blue eyed, barely five years old, ran into safe arms where their family set up camp for a weekend by the lake. 

   Body twisting around, It saw her last. Six years old. Curious green eyes shimmered even under grey skies. Pigtails. Feet behind her, father was hunched over to change a tire with mother beckoning from the window. Pulled over to the side of the road near a Derry forest. The Baker family. Well known and beloved because they had money.

   “Eleanor. You’ll ruin your new shoes. We can’t be late for your recital. It’s going to rain!” Mother’s voice went under heard. Leaves rustled while the clown made a path to slink toward her. Her lips parted, eyes fixated and unblinking. Yellow eyes faded to baby blue like the pretty jewels her mother wore. Safe.

   They were face to face. Drool dripped to hit her once untouched shoes. Those bejeweled eyes surged from that delicate blue back to a hungry orange, glowing brighter and yet he smelled nothing. 

   She had no scent. No fear. A deep, wide nothing. Vast as the ocean could reach. There was no advancing, no will to bring forth the deadlights. She’d probably think they were pretty stars watching over her. Cinderella wishing for a fairy godmother and a prince to whisk her away. He could only watch her make an utter fool of him. Somehow that charmed.

   “Eleanor, now!” Came the shout from her father. A drop of red emerged from the trees. Shiny and terrible. “Where did you get that?”

   A red balloon skimmed against the breeze.

   “From the clown.” She said, getting into the car. “He gave it to me.”

   “Enough playing around, Nell.” Father pressed her inside. The grip was lost along the tangled string. That spot of blood floated up toward the endless sky. Became a floating star too. She wished to float with it. 

   Eleanor danced her little heart out. Prima Ballerina in the making. Perfection was not everything, it was the only thing. She gazed into the audience beyond the balmy stage lights. Rows and rows of orange eyes. Glowing into her. No fear to be cast. Not for any of them. This world didn’t deserve it.

   She saw It again that same week. When they attended a big family reunion. Picnic and all. And her uncle pulled her into the closet full of coats and old board games that were gathering dust. He called this a game too. A secret game. 

   After he’d decided the game was over, a pang snatched his heart to squeeze. Gushing. Eleanor saw those glowing eyes from the shadows. Thought for a moment it was the old cat who roamed the grounds.

   Her uncle asked for help with no breaths left. Tore her frilly dress clutching at her. Hit the hardwood with a finishing crack. Blood pooled.

   Nell didn’t want it to stain her shoes or Mother would be upset.

   That white face bent down toward her. Spine curving to push out against skin. Utterly inhuman.

   “Can you smell the circus, Nelly?” Painted lips full of clustering teeth rumbled. She blinked. White cheeks threatened to tear open with the grin curling.

   “Yes.”

   Little, pretty bells chimed in the ruffles of his garment as he laughed. Soft and sweeter than any sound in this world.

   "Who are you?"

   "Pennywise. The dancing clown." He caught her looking at the body behind his feet.

   Big eyes full and empty.

   “Oh, don’t worry about him, he won’t float.” The clown paused. “You’re a little wonder, aren’t you?”

   She said nothing to that.

   “Go on, grow and see if the world devours you. Tumble back to the weeds where I'll find you again.” His own curiosity was a growing sickness. This fragile human. Unbreakable. 

   The thing about Pennywise was he never considered himself the villain. He only came to feed when that evil and hatred humans brought this world was potent. Natural order. Clockwork. Wolves feed on sheep. The worlds spun on.

   Predators tore into prey, he wouldn’t apologize for that. He didn’t create the hatred, just fed from it. Didn't stop it either. Little dash of fear did a body good. Gave it a sweeter taste.

   Fear was painfully human. A trait that tore us open to display the soft underbelly because it betrayed us down to the core. Granted us something to overcome. A test of endurance. Truly let our true colors pour fresh and obscene. Beautiful. Even when it overcame.

   Pennywise gave her head a pat, leaned down to whisper into her ear.

   “I see into your blackest heart of hearts, Nelly, deep down you’ll know. You'll always know.”

   The door opened. Tiny footsteps away from the dark and the figure there always watching her. Like the stars above in a black sky.

   “You’ll know.”

   Eleanor walked downstairs. Out into the sunny day full of festivities and family. Asked her aunt for another piece of cake. Frosted with yellow buttercream flowers. They discovered her uncle in that closet at the same time the flies found him too.

   They found the cloth clutched into his meaty, stiff hand and began to ask questions. She didn’t want to talk about the secret games he played when she was in that house. They sent a bolt of thunder rattling into her brain. Unraveled the synapses.

   Her mother burned the cloth. Vowed to never speak of it in hopes she would forget. Children forgot things all the time.

   Nell never forgot. Not for a moment. Not her uncle or her festering relatives who seemed to easily put her in the back of their memories.

   She wanted them to always remember too. If anything, they owed her that much.

   The pictures her mind fleshed out with crayons were not what children should be drawing. Twisted bodies sometimes. Other days, it was those eyes. Molten lava. Mother and father decided this wasn’t something they could deal with. Seeing her looking so still and motionless around the house like a ghost was too much. Knowing they failed their daughter was just too much. A lock clicked.

   They put her in a place that watched over mistakes of all ages from rich families. Paid it well. They told Eleanor it wasn’t her fault and yet, she was the one locked away in a tower for it. She was the one ignored and doped up.

   Ten years and she gave them nothing. Years of homeschooling. Counseling. Medications. Years of sticking her tongue out to swear she’d swallowed her pills. Years of giving them nothing. No laughter or tears. She never hurt a fly and she was the monster.

   Sometimes, it was easier to become the monster they wanted, she supposed.

   Eleanor got out and married the first man who smiled at her. Called her pretty. Just to be away from mother and father. They’d rot in the weeds soon enough. The rest of her family dwindled. Terrible accidents. She vowed to never reproduce to spite them.

   Husband played games too when dinner wasn’t just right or when she dressed just a little against his wishes. Seven miscarriages. Too many broken promises. A car accident pulled his body apart. Left her with some money to return home. 

   Mother and father needed her now, sick and dying in their lavish beds. Life always went on in Derry. Father went still snug in his tomb a month later. Few more weeks and mother’s harsh insults became apologies.

   This girl she ignored was all she had left.

   “Nell, I hope you can forgive us.” Her mother croaked one day.

   “You’re free to do that, mama.” She’d turned and came to sit on the bed.

   “Do what, my dear?”

   “Hope.” Eleanor tucked some brittle hair from mother’s face. Made room for the pillow she pushed into place. Eight minutes and it was over. Twenty seven years and members of her family dropped like flies. She told herself it was a curse. Or fate.

   Bloodlines dying had never been so beautiful. Not built to last forever. Not at all. There was justice in that much.

   Both Eleanor’s parents became ashes in two ornate urns. She drove them out to the Barrens and poured them into the festering waters. Stinking of Derry’s rotten bowels. Wind swept. Picking up green and brown leaves. Wading the waters to give them some appearance of peace.

   Nell didn’t smell the stink of death. She smelt the circus. Hot buttery popcorn and cotton candy. Twang of metal from the old, rusted rides whirling all directions. A child’s laughter echoed out from the giant pipe ahead. Covered in sludge and moss. 

   She followed the lively sounds. Enticed. No long holding to this world. Another one awaited. It always had. Marked with two glowing orange eyes.

   Reminded her of the lights twinkling every Halloween. Jack-o-lanterns you couldn’t blow out before midnight because it was against the rules and would bring you bad luck.

   Through watery rot and dead leaves, Nell went into the pipes. Caught glimmers of light between cracks. Felt her way. Heard the uttering of the seven children she lost beckoning her home.

   Down.

   Down.

   Down.

   Ruined her clothes in the trance. Clawing for more because the world couldn’t hope to deliver. Into a massive nest with a skylight. Candlelight danced. She heard the trill of a music box until the room came alive. Whirled from rust and rot to marble and gold.

   Prettier than her wedding day. A church with decorated pews of red taffeta. White roses hanging from every corner. Petals crying into the cherry wood floors.

   A man smiled at her who wasn’t Husband. Sharp, brooding face. Swept brown locks slicked like Clark Gable. Pink lips curled and crystalline eyes gave a twinkle. A white suit and one red rose at his breast.

   She came to him when he reached. Body heavier because a dress dragged behind her. Full skirt of those same delicate white roses. Tight bodice that twinkled under candlelight. Nell smiled too. Utterly lost and found all at once in this room that smelled like decadent caramel apples. 

   A gloved hand curled into hers.

   “Am I dead?” She asked.

   “Oh, yes. For twenty seven years now. You wandered the Earth. But, you're home now.” That voice. All shivers. Chilling until the candles started to snuff out. “That was not life, Nelly. You existed by a thread.”

   “Nelly.” She mused in her deepest dream of dreams. The hate and the neglect and the sheer evil brought by humans who were supposed love and protect instead tore her soul far asunder.

   The man leaned in near her hair. Inhaled.

   “Nothing. Even still.” He recounted the memories. All those times he tried and failed to devour her. “Little wonder.”

   "Pennywise." She puffed, barely audible.

   “I watched you dance. All those years. You can dance down here too in the dark."

   Nell realized as he brought her out for a romantic spin. She’d been seeking him out all her life. All the decay and twisting vines in her soul. Begging to just cross over and stop this pain. But, he wouldn’t finish it because she had no fear. So she danced until the room began to peel. He wiped his cheek on one sleeve. Peachy makeup smeared the fabric to display that red smile upon white skin. 

   She pushed off him. Watched blood rain and melt the rest of it away. This place. A nest. A stomach. A pile of trash and metal twisted up toward the sky. Gouging. Figures floating around it. Waiting. Sleeping soundly because evil couldn’t touch them anymore. At the very least. They fueled something brand new.

   No cry. No scream. Nell succumbed. Stumbling back into a worn mattress as the clown crawled up toward her at some inhuman speed. Slapped his hands on either side of her head. They just breathed.

   Existed together in one space.

   Sometimes good and bravery didn’t blossom from overcoming fear. Sometimes you still wanted to die because enduring a lifelong ache was not growth. It just hurt. There was power in it, but it fucking ached.

   It burned. Plenty of things in her life burned. The scorn of her parents. Her uncle's games. The rotten nurses tossing her around. Husband's hands indenting skin.

   But, Pennywise didn’t. He just showed up to watch the fires grow hot and breathless into a black sky. The terrible view was still a breathtaking thing. Something shattering to become a supernova. Rebirth.

   Enduring pain was worth it. That sick curiosity that there was something more to life. It was worth it. So, fight. Endure. Ache. Be human while you have the chance in an inhuman world because it needs you.

   Gloves opened her dress. Tore layers of tulle and chiffon. Slashed silk. Hands pressed against his chest. Not pushing or pulling. Just holding. Shifting over thick, stitched cotton. Ruffles swayed. She felt a heart beat so hard there under her palm.

   He was alive. Something brand new. Not of this world.

   “Am I like you?” She begged finally. Years of searching and asking why. He stopped to see her green eyes. Glowered. One blue, one orange.

   “Not yet.” Was the truest answer he could form. Fingers gripped his fabric sleeves. Twisted just to hold onto something tangible for the first time in all her existence. Alive at last in this place. Water droplets echoed distantly. “You cannot last forever. Nothing lasts forever.”

   Except love, she thought. Except desire.

   Pennywise seemed to hear it even still. Felt the truth of it carve out his heart that was still beating powerfully. Profoundly.

   Something flayed her open. Pushed inside. Made her moan deliciously until two gloved fingers touched her mouth. Bodies connecting. Moving together.

   There were hands everywhere. Stroking soft caresses up and down her naked flesh. It felt like a million little pieces of candlelight were swirling up her body. Those same orbs that had been following her around for too many years shined behind his eyes. Resonated. Beautiful.

   She made out parts of him between thumps. Orange hair. Pristine paint. His mouth on her skin. A heart that was pumping vigorously. Low rumbling growls. Nell felt she’d been starved all her life and was finally feeding. Finally letting the ache flood out that she’d held onto for too long. Finally alive. Feeling. Deep down and drawing in it.

   Her voice came to beg for more of him. Hands grasping to touch him back. To delve into this earth and just feel. He touched her everywhere. Lips and neck. Down her breasts. Between spread legs.

   The combined sensations made her cry out for him to never stop. A gloved hand on her jaw brought their eyes together. Hot, wet touch. Boiling. The peak shattered them both. Nell fell to shuddering pieces. Curved up. Moaning and shameless. Weight fell into her body so lips could touch her own. Once. Just once while they were warm.

   Pennywise lifted off fully to see her eyes. Inhaled again and got what he’d sought too. Years and it was finally there.

   Those green eyes glimmered at him. A waft of sweet candied apples bubbled with heat. Fear. Clear as a crystal, dewy morning. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

   There was finally something found that could be lost. Something she sought out and held and hoped for.

   And the fear of losing it was almost too much to bear.

   One gloved finger caught a tear that trickled out from the corner of her eyes.

   “Please.” She said, unable to find much else. Like she wanted him and nothing else for the rest of these long days. Do it. Just do it. Nell’s hand lifted. Gentle fingers drew lines along his face. "Pennywise. Please."

   It was a soft prayer.

   He lunged down. Sunk teeth into her tender neck. Tore the scream out before she could hope to give it. Nell choked there. Made an odd sound like she was laughing. It bubbled. Claws grew out from those gloves. Shoved forth into her raging heart. 

   A squelch.

   Her lips were still upturned when it was done. Green eyes pointed on him. Peaceful and bloodied. Naked under the moonlight. Dripping rubies.

   He tossed his head back and wailed. Teeth sharp and bared. Bloodied. Lost. A shattering sound that bent time and space apart. Pennywise plucked her up. Climbed high and vast to the very top of the twisting pile. Watched the dead children float like little falling stars. Something to make wishes upon. Peaceful for only a second in this life.

   He placed her there in a sheer drape. Closed her eyes. Let the deadlights swelter above them. Spinning all directions. 

   A scar thickened.

   Three days passed. The deadlights danced high and wide. Fluttering like a swarm of butterflies. The world spun on a new axis. Pennywise sat below upon his stage. Curved over in wait. Marble statue. 

   A low rumble like a purr erupted. Dainty feet came to him with a newfound grace. Little dancer. Deadly ballerina all porcelain and blushed. Blood red shoes made soft taps across the stage.

   A white hand touched his shoulder. His little wonder. Bells tolled distantly three times.

   “Can you smell the circus?” Her voice poured white hot. Purring louder so he'd feel it vibrate his own chest.

   Lips curled wide. Split. Pennywise rose to see her in the light. Perfection. Those green eyes shimmering like emeralds. Haunted. Totally alive and willing.

   “Yes.” He hissed. Cupping her face to see the angles. Not ruining the permanent brushstrokes that came with her rebirth. “Yes, I do.” A bond struck.

   I do. I promise. We'll float. Always.

   Nell smiled to match him. Totally and irrevocably his equal. A pulse of light drew them together. She granted him a single kiss, tasting candied. A new horror in this world hungry for the evil it would always bring.

   “We were built to last forever.”

[heartlyre]

META NOTES: The Answer

      all notes compiled during various playthroughs of The Answer, for those curious and for my own personal reference in the future. bc i can’t be assed to turn it into an actual meta post lmao. 

      as always, this is an extension of Hamuko’s main verse wherein she is the male protag’s sister and he fulfills the requirements to create the Great Seal. 

      i doubt anyone following me cares, but just in case: THIS IS NOT A SPOILER FREE ANALYSIS. THIS POST VERY SOLIDLY SPOILS THE ENDGAME OF P.ERSONA 3 AS WELL AS ITS EPILOGUE. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT COMPLETED BOTH PARTS.

it’s doubtful that Hamu would have remained at the dorm after her brother’s death — too many memories. either moved to the standard female dorm or chose to spend spring break living with Yukari or Mitsuru

Aigis DOES still keep Minato’s Evoker. Hamuko was not the one who picked it up during the final battle versus Nyx and afterwards couldn’t bear to see Aigis parted from it in the name of her own selfishness.

it’s been less than a month since the loss of her brother. she’s still horribly shell-shocked, and it shows —— she’s still pleasant and is obviously trying to keep up her former appearance of cheer, but she is incapable of not being sad and will ( silently ) bristle should anyone tell her to ‘ lighten up, ‘ no matter how well-intentioned it may be.

she is not at the dorm until after the first battle with Metis, and instead arrives with Yukari. she doesn’t seem entirely pleased to be back. 

Hamuko spent the entire night of March 5th by her brother’s side, watching him for signs of difference, though she knew from the moment they arrived at the dorm that something was wrong. by the time he was gone, she’d already been weeping for hours.

The Answer marks the beginning of Hamuko’s Arcana Change, wherein she still retains her original arcana of The Fool, but if she were inspected by Mitsuru or Fuuka, she would seem… distorted?  Her own version of Orpheus remains unchanged physically — still keeping his golden hair and heart-shaped lyre — but he seems tarnished, almost. Something akin to rust has begun to appear on his joints, and his hair looks to be thinner…

is all but silent through Metis’ initial explanation wrt the Abyss of Time, choosing to watch quietly rather than speak. all it takes is Metis saying that she’s trying to lead them through the Abyss of Time to save Aigis — to save her sister — for Hamuko to believe her and be on board with going in.

Mitsuru does not choose her to step up as the field leader, both out of respect for her recent loss, and because there is tactical strategy in having Aigis, the new holder of power of the Wild Card, as their leader rather than Hamuko. she accepts this with grace ( despite clearly being somewhat disappointed ) and instead settles back into her former role of ‘co-leader’

essentially Hamuko acts as a more quiet version of Yukari during the beginning sequences. she vocally agrees that she just wants to get through the Abyss of Time as soon as possible — leaving unexplained that this is mostly because she doesn’t want to be thrown back into battle, when every move she made was once intended to protect her now deceased brother — and expresses wary curiosity similar to Yukari’s when asking Aigis why she can now change Personas as Minato could. she is… unreadable to the others, but at heart, is both hurt and somewhat offended that she, as Minato’s sister, wasn’t chosen to step forward in his place.

she joins the party as a permanent member and is irremovable as soon as dungeon crawling begins, at least for the first few bosses. for all her unspoken wishes not to go back into battle, she says simply that she’d prefer to go into the Abyss and fight rather than stand around. in truth, she’s drawn a connection between the Abyss’ sudden appearance and Aigis’ inheriting of her brother’s Persona —— she suspects from that moment forward that it has something to do with Minato, and she actively wants to get to the bottom of it.

her Orpheus’ skillset reverts back to ‘Agi’ / ‘Matarunda’ / ‘Diarama’ and proceeds to re-learn the same skills he’d had during their Journey.  intended to act as the ‘mage’ to Aigis’ brute force.

she is mildly upset by the flashback of Ken’s memories in the police station, but says little, only coming over to stand by him and rest her hand on his shoulder in a show of solidarity.

seems to be upset by the talk of her teammates chasing the thrill of battle, but again, says nothing besides quietly agreeing with Yukari’s sentiment of ‘If we don’t keep our eyes forward, it’s all a waste of time.’

smiles a bit at watching Akihiko’s flashback, commenting on how ‘handsome’ Akihiko was when he was younger. her mirth quickly fades.

stiffens when Metis mentions feeling a ‘presence’ outside the last room on the second floor. no reaction but for a ‘!’ above her head before running out of the lobby to go see for herself. will comment on how strange this is should she be approached by Aigis before going into the next dungeon.

here, Hamuko is no longer a permanent party member. though she’ll make it known to Aigis that she’d prefer to go down into the Abyss and that her place as co-leader means she keeps a good eye on healing everyone, she’ll also say that she feels it would be best if someone stayed up on the second floor of the dorm for the time being. she smiles. it’s fake.

physically stiffens during Junpei’s flashback and looks… almost angered by the revealed breach in her and her brother’s privacy. ( “someone took a peek into [ his ] file when one of the teachers left it lying around. both of [ his ] parents are dead.” / “it’s just a rumour!” ) both siblings had wondered how the gossip about their parents and living situation had spread so early into the year (Junpei himself places his memory flashback as ‘the night that Akihiko-senpai found me,’ which is less than two weeks after the Protagonist arrives in Iwatodai. the siblings were at Gekkoukan for 12 DAYS until the rumour got out — ) and now that Hamuko has her answer, she’s visibly dismayed.

she swallows it back for the most part and doesn’t mention it past a quiet, near emotionless “… so i guess now i know how the gossip got started,” but she’s still clearly bristling at flashback!Junpei’s “that stuff only happens in soap operas!” remark.

Junpei will comment when approached by Aigis about how ‘Hamu-tan’ seems to be acting a bit colder towards him ( though he brushes it off as her merely being on edge in general because ‘the past few weeks have been hard on her, ya know?’ ) in addition to standard dialogue about how his father is, at least, still alive, and therefore he has it easier than most of the other dorm residence . Hamuko, in turn, will wonder aloud if the Arisato’s file would have been looked into had they grown up here like everyone else, and acknowledges that perhaps she’s being a bit harsh thanks to her lack of perspective on abusive parents.

not much to comment on with Mitsuru’s door, only a look of worry for Mitsuru when she says how strange it was to have seen her father again as if he were alive. talking to Hamuko in the dorm brings about a soft mention of how she thinks she’s beginning to figure out the connections between everyone’s flashbacks, but that because Aigis is the leader now, Hamuko is going to keep it to herself until she has more evidence.

Yukari’s flashback also leaves little to comment on from Hamuko besides a murmur of her friends name once the flashback is over, though she does add a quiet “me too” when Yukari mentions wanting a sign she was moving in the right direction equal to the same blessing Aigis received in the power of the Wild Card.

when Yukari reveals the connection between everyone’s doors and points out that it was the awakening to everyone’s Personas, and Mitsuru mentions that Fuuka, Aigis, and Metis’ memories all have no need to be revisited, Hamuko also adds that as her Persona was awakened in defense of him the same night he awoke his, it’s likely that her memories were also unnecessary. speaking to Hamuko in the dorm afterward shows her mulling over the idea that the Abyss of Time is connected to all of them, musing out loud about the shadowy black figure they’ve been seeing and wondering if it’s connected to the presence outside her brother’s now vacant room.

she does not come into the dungeon for the final door, stating that she feels like she really needs to be up on the second floor in the dorms and that she hopes Aigis understands

Upon finding the last door in the Abyss’ furthest level: > Junpei: ‘what did we do to deserve this?’ > Hamuko, softly, but with contained anger: ‘nothing. we’ve done nothing to deserve this.’

Hamuko comes out of Aigis’ flashback in stunned tears at the sight of her brother’s retreating form. once Fuuka says, ‘I didn’t expect to see him again, even if he had his back turned,’ Hamuko reacts with a ‘!’ over her head, stumbling where she stands to the point where Akihiko has to steady her. a party member asks if she’s okay, and she nods, attempting to stand on her own again, but she’s clearly shaken. “… it was really him, then? the rest of you saw that too?’

the cutscene continues until Aigis says that she’s done nothing but chase him in her dreams, and Hamuko murmurs, “I’ve had dreams like that too… he doesn’t turn in mine either, if it makes you feel any better.”

the Shadow version of Minato and Metis’ comment of “this is the reason why everything is happening. this was born from all of you.” draws a pained, whimpered “no” from her. she is left unable to move, and takes the Shadow’s first strike — from her own Orpheus —- to initiate combat. she spends the rest of the battle awake but incapacitated.

she’s standing for the Shadow’s rather gruesome disappearance, but immediately sinks back to her knees after Akihiko’s comment of “we did it.”  besides her soft whisper of ‘brother…’ the cutscene continues as normal

… until Metis’ comment of ‘you were unwilling to let go of something precious to you,’ Hamuko, swiping at her eyes and shouting, angrily, shakily: ‘AND WHY IS THAT A PROBLEM?? WHY IS ANY OF THIS A PROBLEM?? WE DIDN’T DESERVE THIS! NONE OF US DESERVED THIS!! WE JUST WANTED TO LIVE,  TO GO TO SCHOOL LIKE TWO NORMAL KIDS, AND INSTEAD I WAS FORCED TO WATCH AS HE —” Hamuko: … Hamuko, standing and turning to Metis, sadly, but firmly: ‘I lost someone who was just as important to me as Aigis is to you. I lost my only family left, someone who I loved more than my own life, less than a month ago. he was my everything. and you just… you expect me to just let go?’

falls silent once more as a party member quietly says her name. the cutscene proceeds as Metis explains that defeating the Shadow may mean that SEES can once again leave the Abyss of Time.

Junpei: “No one is seriously thinking about going back to the past, right?” Hamuko, glancing away guiltily: “…” … Akihiko: “Even if it hurts, we have to deal with it and accept the present.” Hamuko, as though coming to a realization: “Akihiko-senpai…

Hamuko, softly after Yukari’s outburst against Ken and Akihiko’s supposed ‘selfishness’ for not wanting to return to the past: “… I agree with them, too. Junpei-kun is right —— there’s no guarantee that even if we did go back, everything wouldn’t just happen exactly the same way it did. And I… I can’t watch him die in front of us again. I can’t… I can’t lose him. Not again. It isn’t worth the chance.”

despite Hamuko’s agreement with Ken and Akihiko, she ultimately takes a stand with Metis and Aigis, stating that her stance as the secondary leader means her allegiance goes to the leader proper. To Aigis: “I lead with my brother. I will continue to lead with the person who inherited his powers, regardless of your decisions or how I feel about them. It’s my job to have your back, after all...”

speaking to her in the dorms only ends in her saying: “I still think it’s wrong of us to go back and undo the sacrifice he made for us… but if you agree to go to the past… then I guess I’ll just get one more chance to see my brother again, won’t I?”

Metis, while standing in front of the arena preparing for battle: “This is a real battle, and there will be consequences if they lose.” Hamuko: “Consequences?? What kind of consequences???”

Akihiko, while facing the team in the ring: “Let’s get this over with.” Hamuko: “… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, to both of you...”

speaking to Hamuko in the dorms after Akihiko and Ken have been sealed leads to a single comment of “Make sure you’re ready. I won’t be losing anyone else. Not you… and not them.”

Junpei: “I dunno, do you really see us being able to go back and pull off another miracle, better than he could? I think this is something we’ve got to figure out on our own. You agree, don’t you, Hamu-tan?” Hamuko: “… Yeah. I’m not going to like facing Yukari-chan… but this is how it has to be.” and, while smiling, “Try not to hurt me too bad, okay? I won’t want to have to kick your butt again for payback later.”

the end of Junpei and Koromaru’s fight has Hamuko shaken, but she says nothing but a quiet ‘we’ll get you guys out of there soon’ once they’re sealed.

the scene between Metis and Aigis in which Metis offers Aigis her life should she die so that Metis wouldn’t be alone weighs heavily on Hamuko, and it’s clear that she understands when she says, simply “… that’s the pain of being a sister.”

Yukari: “It’s strange. I kinda want to say ‘long time no see’ to you guys.” Hamuko: “Yukari-chan… please, please don’t do this. You’re making a mistake.”

Mitsuru, in the ring: “Show me your resolve!” Hamuko: “Senpai… Yukari-chan… I’m sorry, but you’re both wrong.”

As Yukari breaks, Hamuko sinks to her knees next to her friend, opposite where Mitsuru would sit. Yukari’s cries of “I want to see him!” are only met with a hushed, “don’t you think I do too? I want him back… I want him back more than anything i can think of. but not like this. not this way… not to take what he gave us and throw it back in his face…”

speaking to her before the final battle will reveal that she’s nervous, and she outright states that there’s something almost familiar beyond that door… like she’s been there before. she warns Aigis to be careful, but states that she believes Aigis can bring them out to the other side safely.

Fuuka, upon seeing Minato’s essence forming the Great Seal: “What… what is this?” Hamuko, tearily: “…Brother… that isn’t… is it?”

Yukari, after watching Erebus attempt to attack Aigis: “I won’t let myself run this time.. He’s watching us, and I won’t let him down!” Hamuko, with barely contained fury: “You leave my family alone, you freak! If you want a fight, you come at me!”

Yukari: “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. He did this, made the seal, because there was no other choice. If there was an easier way, he would have taken it. It’s still sad, but… If I think of him as protecting us, forever… it helps a lot. ” Hamuko: “…He was always a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. He did what he did because he had to… because he cared about you guys… because I care about you guys. And it’s as simple as that.”

Hamuko recognizes the Velvet Room from descriptions her brother had given her, and offers a smile and a quiet ‘it’s nice to finally meet you’ to Igor and Elizabeth.

as Aigis fades after coming to her answer: “No!!! Not you too, Aigis! I’m not losing you too!!!”

as the final cutscene plays, Hamuko can be seen touching a pair of silver headphones where they rest around her neck. tears roll down her face, but she smiles. 

[rorykillmore]

okay so i’ve also been working on ANOTHER thing that, thus far, has taken a backseat to my christmas fics, but i think now i’m as happy with it as i’m gonna be so. idk. this is basically just the result of me being salty about arrow (constant fandom mood) and black siren and the total lack of lance sister interaction.

special shoutout to @larkspear bc their character thoughts and the discussions we’ve had helped. we have a lot of fun rp stuff for these two planned but i wanted to do, like, a canon set fix-it thing for them too because my spite is JUST that real.

so this is set idk sometime after the crossover, in an au where sara stayed in star city for awhile and team arrow has black siren under lock and key again and thus gets Busted

“They aren’t going to let me out of here.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on asking Oliver for permission.”

“You didn’t tell me.” 

Sara doesn’t usually yell when she’s angry. A cold shoulder’s a more effective approach, she usually finds -- or at least easier for her, easier to shut down what she’s feeling and keep it safely out of other people’s reach.

“None of you fucking told me.” But now? Now she’s practically seething.

“Sweetheart --” Her father begins, and he sounds tired, but Sara is bristling too much to care and he gets cut off anyway as Oliver (predictably) steps forward to take the heat. 

“I asked him not to, Sara.” He barely flinches when she turns a fierce gaze on him. “Because I knew you would come here and do this, and from what I understand, your... team has enough to deal with right now. Don’t get distracted.”

“We were gonna tell you. I swear to god, I would never have kept this from you forever,” Quentin manages to get that in before Sara can decide on the best way to kill Oliver with her bare hands. “But better for you to know once we had the situation handled. I didn’t want you to see her like this.”

He puts a hand on her shoulder, and Sara just barely refrains from shrugging him off.  Laurel - her Laurel, anyway - hadn’t given up on her when she’d been some damaged killer fresh out of the League of Assassins, or when she’d been without a soul, so whatever this is? Sara thinks she can handle it.

“Look, Sara -- you haven’t met her. You don’t get it,”  Felicity tries almost plaintively. “She’s -- she’s not Laurel. Not really. Not like we knew her.”

She feels her father’s hand tense, but he doesn’t say anything. For her own part, she doesn’t quite manage his level of restraint. “Do you even know this Laurel at all?” Sara flashes an angry look from Felicity to Oliver.  “Either of you -- did you even try? Because I don’t remember you being all that good at listening to our Laurel when she was alive.”

Felicity looks hurt, and even Oliver grimaces this time, but Sara can’t bring herself to care. She’s too angry about them keeping this from her -- and maybe, maybe it isn’t fair, but maybe a part of them hasn’t forgiven them for that year she was dead. The one when Laurel grieved and suffered alone. Mostly, she knows, if it hadn’t been for Nyssa.

“She’s dangerous,” Oliver presses on. “If you let this cloud your judgment and give her the benefit of the doubt, she will take advantage of you. Believe me.”

He seems to think he’s speaking from experience, but Sara can’t say she has much faith that he handled any attempt he might have made at reaching out to the other Laurel particularly well.

Besides that --

There’s no universe out there where Laurel is a condemnable, irredeemable person. Sara knows - knew - who she was at the very core of her person, and it just isn’t possible.

She turns to Quentin, not quite able to lash out at him with that same anger once she sees the pained look in his eyes. He’s lost enough already. She won’t let it happen again.  “Where is she?”

She feels more than sees everyone in the room hesitate.

“We’ve got her in a cell that dampens her powers,” Quentin admits finally.  “She’s a metahuman, this version of her. But we -- it’s temporary. We can’t keep her here forever.”

“STAR labs can take her again.” Felicity clears her throat unhappily. “At least until we --”

“I want to see her,” Sara interrupts, because she’ll stop trusting herself if she lets Felicity finish that thought. 

“Sara --”

“Now.”

They know well enough to leave her to it, though Oliver looks less than happy about it. His problem. Sara forgets about it almost as soon as she enters the room with the cell, because there’s -- there’s Laurel.

She wears her hair different, swept to one side in a way that her Laurel would’ve fussed with, and there’s a look in her eyes that’s grim and haunted in a way that feels unfamiliar, but it’s still --

Laurel looks up, meets Sara’s gaze, and goes utterly still. Something in the way she pales a little, or how her expression falters just for a moment, reminds Sara of someone finding themselves face to face with a ghost.

All things considered, she can’t imagine her own expression is much different.

“Well,” Laurel drawls, a second too belated to be entirely convincing. “I see they’ve brought in the cavalry.”

Sara’s not sure if she’s aware, because most people probably wouldn’t be able to tell just from the little shifts in her expression , but she looks utterly miserable. She wonders if Laurel thinks they sent her in here just to torment her.

She steels herself and approaches the cage. 

“I’m sorry,” she starts quietly, not sure what else to say. “They didn’t... tell me about you. Or I would’ve been here sooner.”

“Would you?” Laurel tries to sound disinterested, but her gaze never leaves Sara. “I’ve heard you have very important things to do, these days.”

Nothing in any universe is more important to her than her sister, but Sara doesn’t say that. Instead, she tries for something lighter. “I mean, you know. There’s some kind of all-powerful demonic bullshit threatening the universe, at the moment, but it can wait.”

Laurel looks faintly surprised, and then almost for a moment like she wants to smile, but then she catches herself.  “Well, whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it here. I’ve already heard all the pep talks.”

“Good thing I suck at those, then.” Beneath her easy banter, Sara feels strangely hollowed out.  She tries not to let it show, but if she’s not having a hard time reading Laurel, she doesn’t imagine Laurel’s having a hard time reading her. Then again, it’s hard to say for sure. Maybe her relationship with her sister was... completely different. All Sara really knows about that is that her family’s dead now (Quentin had been kind enough to give her that heads up).

“So what do you want?” Laurel’s voice is starting to sound a little strained. “Did they send you in here to get something out of me, or are you just here to torture yourself?”

Sara hesitates, because there’s no denying that this does hurt, in a way she can’t really articulate. But it wouldn’t be fair to assume that it doesn’t hurt Laurel just as much, if not more -- does she even have anything left?  “...Do you want me to go?”

Laurel opens her mouth to say something, then swallows in a way that looks almost painful. No response comes after that.

“I mean -- I’m not gonna just leave you here,” Sara clarifies, in case that’s what she’s deliberating over.  “I’ll just -- I’ll talk to Dad, or --”  The rest of her words catch in her throat as she realizes what she’s said. There’s a choked pause, but Laurel doesn’t seem to want to linger on it.

“They aren’t going to let me out of here.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on asking Oliver for permission.” Sara tilts her head, a touch defiant in spite of everything. Laurel blinks at her, hesitating like someone who suspects they’re being baited into a trap.

“But why would you --”  Laurel seems to struggle with this sentiment, and Sara’s heart aches for her. “I’m --”

“You’re Laurel.”  And she is, unquestionably. Sara can’t understand how anyone would doubt it.  

Her sister - not the Laurel she knew, who was irreplaceable in every way that it’s possible to be, but still her sister - grips the bars of the cage a little too tightly, her eyes a little brighter, a little more teary.  “I’m not -- who you want me to be,” she says, like it’s a question Sara’s asked, and she sounds  just a little broken. “I’m not good, like she was. You’re just going to be disappointed.”

The sentiment only makes her seem more achingly familiar. Because the thing not many people knew about the Laurel of this Earth - the worst thing - was that she never thought she was worth very much, either. Sara can still remember that Laurel standing in Thea’s club with those same tears in her eyes and begging Sara not to hate her.

As if Sara ever could.

She reaches out, pries one of Laurel’s hands away from the bars, and holds it carefully. “Speaking as the resident family disappointment of this Earth, you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Laurel makes a choked noise that’s almost a laugh, and holds onto her a little more tightly than Sara would’ve expected her to. It makes her even more conscious of the reality of the situation:  Laurel without a family, Laurel, who’s been apparently flitting from dangerous situation to dangerous situation, who’s been locked away by the city’s heroes.

“Tell me how I can help you,” she asks more quietly.  If she has to go stab whatever big-name asshole’s been terrorizing the city this year a couple of times, she will, Oliver’s no-killing rule be damned.

A little guarded still, Laurel shrugs.  “Just get me out of here. I’ll -- leave Star City. Go somewhere else. Leave your friends alone.”

The pragmatic part of Sara wonders whether she should question whether Laurel’s telling the truth, but she suddenly sounds so exhausted that it’s difficult to doubt her.

“What about... whoever it is you’re working for?”

“I can lay low when I need to.”

Even if she can, Sara doesn’t like the idea of her spending God-knows-how-long running.  “If you want to go back to your Earth, I have some pull in Central City --”

Laurel shakes her head with a bitter, unamused smile. “It’d be worse there.”

Sara wants to ask, even though she’s certain she wouldn’t like the answer, but she figures her questions can wait until Laurel’s not sitting in a cell. Maybe Laurel senses her hesitation, because she finally, almost painfully, drops Sara’s hand.

“I’ll be fine, Sara. You’re overthinking it.”

It’s difficult to be deterred by that when it seems like not many people have given much thought to Laurel’s safety at all. She shrugs. “You could come with me.”

It’s a simple solution on the surface, because she doubts Laurel’s ‘friends’ have the means to track a timeship. But proposing it without thinking it over seems a little reckless, in retrospect.

Laurel stares at her for a moment. “What?”

“It’d still be dangerous,” Sara amends quickly, her mind racing. “I mean, the Legends aren’t exactly good at... staying out of trouble. And, you know. There’s the aforementioned demonic bullshit.”

And Damien Darhk. Sara’s blood runs cold at the idea of letting this Laurel anywhere near him. Maybe it was a stupid thing to offer, maybe she’d be putting Laurel in more danger than she ever would be here, and what room does she have to think she can help her when she couldn’t protect Stein, couldn’t keep Jax from leaving --

“I’m used to dangerous,” Laurel says slowly, interrupting Sara’s spiral of thoughts.  “I just...  maybe you should think about whether or not you and your team want me traveling with you.”

Oh -- that.

It’s a fair concern, although honestly, Sara doesn’t think the other Legends will have any particular hang-ups. Most of them didn’t even know her Laurel, and this one would hardly be their first recruit to have a spotty record (really, it’d be easier to list the team members who didn’t have a criminal history).

As far as how she herself feels about it...  

Would it be too hard? Traveling with Laurel, but not the Laurel she grew up with?

She hesitates, because her feelings are so tangled up that they’re difficult to decipher.

Laurel, meanwhile, deliberately averts her gaze.  “It’s better if we don’t stay together,” she says after a moment, her voice carefully controlled in a way that makes Sara wonder whether she really believes that or whether she’s just trying to protect herself against some kind of seemingly inevitable rejection.

“Do you really think that?” she challenges, because she’s not so sure she believes it herself. 

-- And then, the strangest thing, in the next moment: she knows she doesn’t.

Knows that if she never lets herself know this version of her sister, she’s going to wonder for the rest of her life.

That maybe the Legends aren’t good at giving a lot, but that they’d be willing to give her a family.

That Laurel can be so much better than she thinks she is if someone just gives her the chance.

“It’s always going to hurt,” Sara continues bluntly. “I mean -- with or without you, I’m always going to miss my sister. And I’m sure you feel the same way. But you and me -- all this multiversal crap aside, we’re still family.” She hesitates again, because she doesn’t know how to bear her entire soul in quite the same way as she used to do with the Laurel from this Earth. She finds she’s a little afraid to.

“...I think knowing you would make my life better, not worse,” she finishes gingerly. “But it’s your choice. You can also just... fuck off to Coast City, or something, and I won’t be offended. Promise.”

Silence hangs between them for a moment. It feels fragile. Laurel still won’t look at her, but her shoulders shake just a little, and Sara fights back the basic instinct to open the door to the cell and just hug her until she stops crying. She leans her shoulder against the bars instead, carefully composed.

When Laurel finally speaks, she still doesn’t turn around. “You know, you’re a lot like I imagined she’d be. All grown up.” Sara doesn’t have to ask who she means, barely has time to contemplate the sudden lump in her throat before Laurel brushes briefly at her eyes and finally does turn. “I don’t think I’ll make a very good hero.”

“Literally none of us do, on an average day. You’ll fit right in.” Sara offers her a rather lopsided smile, and Laurel finally, fleetingly returns it.

[nothingwrongwiththepain]

....Aizawa is struggling

was I the only one who thought they glossed over Aizawa suffering at the end of season 1? 

this is purely suffering between the hand off from Tsu to Mezo. bc wow did he get a beat down. 

900 words ~ 

or read it on ao3

The first thing he's aware of is the hands, gripping him tightly. He has to get away, but even that poorly formed thought is no match for limbs that are simply non responsive.

The world is spinning and spinning and a jolting step treats him to another powerful wave of nausea. But the hurts are inconsistent with a beating, the ground sliding under his dragging feet is too constant a motion.

Someone is moving him. In almost any other case, that's not a bad thing, considering the fight he was losing. But right now - right now being jostled and pulled who knows how much further - is more than he can take.

"Stop."

The word is costly, Aizawa has to add the possibility of a dislocated jaw below concussion and above the obviously broken nose and two black eyes he can already name.

Sliding off someone's shoulder - the trip isn't long, they aren't very tall - is an all call to every single hurt he collected in the past half hour.

Vision isn't deemed a necessity, his gradual connection with the underfoot concrete is stolen by a white black flash. Blinking the interruption away takes too long, his eyelids are sticky.

He can't see for shit, but he can tell right away his goggles are gone. It's a concern, one that doesn't belong amidst the back drop of incredibly painful injuries making themselves known. Still, a worry he clings to for the better part of three seconds as the rest of him alights with new and inventive definitions of pain.

Breathing is the first problem, he can't move his jaw to spit properly, the blood collecting in his mouth slides unpleasantly down the back of his throat.

Swallowing does little to improve the situation, throat working and waking the overextend muscles in his neck. But he can breathe.

Which sets off the next series of symptoms, this time the familiar slash of broken ribs and bruised abdomen as his chest rises and falls. He tries to compensate with shallower breaths, which sets off a series of pathetic coughs.

Tension runs down his spine and for the briefest of seconds, whatever the fuck has been done to his arms threatens to burst past the dead buzzing that's settled over them since he woke.

Threatens, but doesn't break through, and Aizawa is frankly quite alright with this whole 'going into shock' business. Fresh memories dripping with the pressure, click and crunch of the thin bones in his arm have taken a seat within arms reach, kicking at the floor. Aizawa pushes them away with the faint hope he won't remember any of this. But then he's never been that lucky.

Instead he tries to focus on the blurry face leaning over him, the faint sensation of careful fingers pushing strands of hair from his eyes. He should say something, or at least give some sign he's alive.

Aizawa attempts to clear his throat, but swallowing a third mouthful of blood is the last straw for his gag reflex and instead, he's faced with the absolute certainty he is about to throw up. While lying on his back.

Rolling onto either arm isn't a thought he'd like to entertain, thankfully any wherewithal for anticipation seems to have faded with his ability to string words together. Every splintered, cracked and broken bone, from his wrist to his shoulder to his ribcage alight in a network of pain as Aizawa tries force his body to turn.

He chokes on a whimper instead, system in full revolt at the newest abuse. Fortunately whoever was carrying him clues in when he jerks again, hot spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. They take a firm hold of his shoulders and tip him sideways just as his much abused stomach forcefully begins to empty its contents.

There isn't a good deal in his stomach to throw up. Aizawa, despite Hizashi’s endless complaints, hasn't had more than coffee for breakfast in years.

Vomiting is bad for his everything. If coughing hurt, the near full body convulsions as bile crawls up his throat is agony on his stomach, his ribs, the nails drilling in his neck: the dislocated jaw has him reconsidering the merits - if any - of consciousness.

And yet. The slightest of inklings that passing out while gagging on stomach acid with a nose clogged with blood might be a bad idea keeps him grappling for awareness.

Making the decision doesn't make it any easier. Pulling air into his lungs between heaves is a trial, then another, and another. Dizzy spots from earlier are right back where they started, making home improvements at the edges of his vision. Fuck.

After a short age has passed and time has gone a bit wonky, Aizawa can finally, finally fall into a irregular pattern of uneven panting. Its terribly, incredibly uncomfortable and a million times better than throwing up.

What happens after that does melt and blur into a vague collection of events, the pounding in his head doesn't make room for much beside muffled questions and thrown off balance whenever he's moved from one spot to the next.

He needs to know if his class is safe, if anyone got hurt. He needs to know and that knowledge is a luxury not afforded to a barely conscious victim - the last sensation he registers is an oxygen mask pressing gently against his cheeks and again, a hand brushing his bangs to the side.

[tenya]

sands of time

SHOW: Generator Rex CHARACTERS: Rex Salazar and Breach RATING: PG

SUMMARY: There is more than one way to tell a story. When Breach’s powers spiral out of control and the time portal she has created swallows her and Rex whole, Rex is determined to give her the best ending possible.

The swirling yellow vortex looming over them crept closer with each passing second. Rex wondered how he was supposed to make it out of this alive. He wondered if surviving something like this was even possible. The vortex kicked up dirt and then slung it against his legs, his arms, his face.

He pulled Breach closer. She was shaking in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder, her breath coming in and out in short rasps. Rex couldn’t blame her for being scared; after all, he was scared too.

After spending the day with her and watching how she hopped from dimension to dimension with practiced ease, Rex couldn’t see this ending well for either of them, not when the portal they were about to be sucked into was as new to him as it was to Breach.

An oppressive air fell over their heads. Rex squeezed his eyes shut when the brightness of the portal became too much to bear. He might have said something to Breach, something along the lines of, “Hold on tight; this could get bumpy,” but he wasn’t sure. He might have just thought it.

As the portal closed around them, so did the world. It vanished from beneath their feet and suddenly Rex and Breach were falling down, down, down toward what could only be their demise. The only light for what seemed like miles was a tiny yellow splotch at the bottom of the tunnel.

Breach started to slip away from him. In spite of the overwhelming darkness around them, when Rex opened his eyes, he could see Breach clearly; her expression was one of abject horror. No, it seemed to say. Don’t leave me here alone! I don’t want to be alone. Not again.

The only thing connecting them now was one pair of hands. Their fingers lost their grip on each other one by one, pulled apart by what could have only been pitch black demons. The yellow light beneath their feet was fast approaching, but Rex knew that they wouldn’t reach it together unless something changed, and fast.

So Rex made something change. He forced his way forward, pulling against the invisible force that was trying to pry him away from Breach, and grabbed onto her other wrist. She looked at him with a desperate sort of shock, like she didn’t want to get her hopes up but at the same time, she wanted more than anything to believe that he could do this, that he could keep them from being separated.

The blackness pulled at Rex with renewed vigor. It bit into his arms and made him grimace. It saw the yellow portal under their feet and screamed an unearthly scream that made his ears ring. But still he did not let go.

Rex pulled Breach against his chest in the same moment that they passed through the portal. His whole body shook from the strain of what he had just done. Sweat rolled down his skin and when his back hit something firm and hard he barely noticed.

Groaning, he opened his eyes only to see a clear blue sky above him. He stared at it in silence for a couple of seconds before coming to his senses and bolting upright. “Breach?” Rex surveyed the area around him but saw no sign of her anywhere, just sand. “Breach! Come on, answer me! I know you’re out there somewhere. At least, I hope you are. Being stranded alone in a desert is so not how I wanted to spend my day.”

Rex bit his lip and scrambled to his feet. Pulling his goggles down over his eyes, he took a step forward only to recoil immediately; there was something buried beneath the sand, something that Rex had started to dig out before he even knew what he was doing. Sand and grit flew everywhere but Rex barely noticed it, too focused on what he now recognized as a part of a girl’s shirt, as Breach.

“I hope your nanites were generous,” he said, “because I’m really banking on them giving you another mutation. One that lets you breathe sand, or at least hold your breath for a really long time…”

Once Rex had uncovered enough of Breach, he turned his right hand into a giant metal fist and hauled her out of the sand, but she didn’t move. After dismantling his build, he reached out to shake her shoulders. 

“So,” he whispered, “I guess it was too late to order an extra mutation after all.”

The happy lilt that normally pulled at his voice when he made a joke was absent. Rex stared down at Breach with an expression that belonged to a dead man. There was only one thing left to check.

Leaning down, Rex pressed his ear against Breach’s chest. The whipping winds around them made it hard for him to hear anything. So he strained his ears. He pushed them to their absolute limit.

And after what felt like an eternity, he finally heard something.

It was small and quiet, but it was there. A tiny thump, followed by another, and another, and another. Rex’s eyes widened and his face split into a grin. “Yes!” After sitting up, he threw his hands into the air in victory. “Now that’s what I call a heartbeat!”

“What are you smiling about?”

“Breach!”

Rex threw his arms around Breach, ignoring her gasp in favor of hugging her tightly. “Man,” he said, “and I thought your portals were scary! Do me a favor and never do that again, okay, amigo? I hate it when people die on me– or, uh, look like they’ve died on me. Either way, it’s not fun.”

“Why do you care?”

“What do you mean, ‘why do I care?’” Rex leaned back, frowning, looking incredulous. “You said it yourself: we’re friends now. And I’m not a half-rate friend! So, yeah, I do care if you kick the bucket.” After pushing himself up onto his feet, Rex extended his hand to Breach. “Plus, we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, and I don’t know if we’re in 3000 BC or 3000 AD. As far as I know, either one is fair game. And, well, that stuff is just a little bit easier to deal with when you have someone else to deal with it with you.”

Maybe it was because he had almost died three times in the past hour, but Rex could have sworn he saw Breach smile when she took his hand.

“I’m not supposed to like you, but I’m glad I do. You understand.”

“Uh huh. Well, I don’t know about you, but there’s enough sand in my shoes to fill a soccer stadium! I’m sick of the stuff, so unless you want to stick around, I’ll see if Providence is around to pick us up…”