#just this will tell you if you should bother reading it

[harmonysanreads]

I KNOW WE HAVEN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT PHAINON YET (except for that cute face and yummy booba) AND I ALREADY HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM.

Okay okay imagine Yandere! Phainon who loves you and cherishes your existence too much to the brink of obsession (can you blame him?). Him, being a perfect man himself still thinks that he lacks something, and that something is your devotion, your unyielding love because he deserves it, right? He deserves to have your attention and your affection after everything he has done for you.

Oh no, dear Phainon is definitely not a selfish man, he just needs your love to complete himself, to have someone that he could return to after a hard day.

That’s why I think this man will definitely love bombing you. Gifts, kisses, cuddles? Everything you want, everything you ask for. And even if you don’t even need it, he still offers it to you like the desperate puppy he is. He will spoil you rotten, and I mean it in the most respectful way. He found your smallest quirks adorable even if it’s not that special in your eyes. He reminds you to stay dehydrated and go to sleep early, he even tells you to eat healthy. That’s why after knowing him, you have never skipped another meal. And he will definitely coo softly to you whenever you feel insecure about yourself. That’s why you need him, that’s why you should rely on him. And the only thing Phainon ask for as a payback is your love, love him like the way he does to you. Please please because you’re his pretty girl and he loves you too much to even think that this is not a mutual feeling.

Can you really say no to him? To that adorable face and those sparkling blue eyes that seem to go lovesick everytime they catch a glimpse of you?

It was the fifth time this month, or was it the sixth? You couldn't be bothered to keep count anymore, the absurdity of the situation pushing you closer to questioning reality.

“You do know that it's illegal to break into a person's house?” you manage to croak out, senses strained by sickness.

“Break into your house?” he pulls out a chair to sit, the bowl of whatever he'd brought with him finding its place on the table beside your bed.

The near-dumbfounded edge to his question makes you deadpan, “You're so humorous, even when you're sick. How is it trespassing when we're in love with each other?”

You feel your fingers clutching onto your bedsheets, did he even hear you? Can he hear himself? To that, your conscience answers with a firm no. He'll only acknowledge what will suit his fancy, anything else is but you being in a ‘phase of denial’.

“I am not in love with you, how many times do I need to reiterate?” you stress, watching the twirl of the spoon as he stirs the contents in the bowl.

“Hush, I know you're just moody I didn't arrive sooner. I read it on that book you had on you on last Saturday. This is the part where I'm supposed to apologize and hold my ears, right—”

You release a heavy sigh.

You could not decide what begged the most concern : the fact that he doesn't see the problem in his behavior or how accustomed to it that you're getting.

A warm touch on your forehead startles you, another firmer grip on your arm stops you from moving away, “How are you still so energetic with this high a fever?” the candle atop the table flickers, a frown blemishes his face.

He leans in, you respond by increasing the distance. “I took medicine earlier.” you mutter, suddenly feeling like a guilty child.

“Did you? Good girl.” you don't need to look at him to picture the shine clinging at the corners of his lips. You shouldn't look at him for it'll reveal the barely held back cringe spreading across your face.

You're about to protest but a wave of dizziness halts you. Phainon notices the change, you find yourself wishing he wasn't so observant.

“But you haven't eaten, have you?” his hands act too familiar, too comfortable in touching you. You're forced to inhale as he cups your face in inspection, pretending it's for work — but you know, his greed extends too far for it to be anything but an excuse.

“I did eat.” you try to assert, he remains unconvinced.

“Are you still mad at me? If so, say it, I can apologize however you'd prefer. But please don't lie to me about matters that concern your health.” a squeeze to your cheeks, shadows fall on him.

You almost want to laugh at the worry in his eyes, at the way he behaves so much like a perfect lover. If you hadn't known better, the haze clouding your sense would've made you believe him, buy that he's being sincere.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you're just a bit more distrustful than others, just a bit more cautious than he's giving you credit for — a bit too lucid to have faith in his ‘love’ narrative.

You purse your lips, you are mad at him ; just not in the way he's deluding himself to be. As you contemplate whether to snap at him or not, he releases his grip on you in favor of scooping a spoon of the contents in the bowl, ending his path before your lips.

You turn you head away, a clear rejection. You expect him to probe again but his sigh catches you off-guard.

His finger wraps around a lock of your hair, yearning stains his eyes. “This would've never happened if you just accepted to be mine.”

You soak in his words for a second. Your left eye twitches as you realize, he completely ignored every previous piece of dialogue for his agenda.

“In your dreams.” petulance coats the statement.

To your horror, Phainon easily brings the lock of your hair to his lips, his smile widening as if he's got you exactly where he desires.

“How did you know? I do dream of you, everyday.” sparkles float around the air of his face.

You find yourself grasping at straws, how does one wake up a man who pretends to sleep? A voice in your interjects, perhaps it is for the best you cease these attempts altogether?

“Now, won't you continue to be a sweet girl and eat up?” his words are honey, his smile is blinding and oh so dreadfully, there is adoration in his face, in his every step.

It has alarm bells ringing in your head, because it doesn't make sense.

“No.” you sharply deny, pushing the spoon away again.

“Why not?” you notice just at the nick of time, there is an edge to his voice this time. A crack forming in that perfect face.

“Because I don't trust you. What if you mixed something weird in it?” that is an understatement, your distrust for the man stretches further than the food he offers.

The elders always say, if something is too good to be true, it is too good to be true. ‘Love’ is not reason enough for you to believe Phainon's apparent devotion, his benevolence. No man would squander his time and resources only to back it up with such an easy reasoning — at least, not a man like him. Even if he says it till your ears bleed — you will not believe him.

The Chrysos Heir's hum interrupts the silence, “Then, if I do this...”

Your quizzical gaze falls on him, he holds your stare and you feel a kick at your ribcage. Struggling is useless, but you try anyway ; if just to be petty, if just to drive your point across, if just to survive. He squashes your attempt with an insultingly easy grip, showing you exactly how futile it is.

His thumb parts your lips with an insistent press, joining his pointer finger in holding your mouth open next. Your nails scratch at his glove in a pitiful attempt at getting him away, his free hand holds them both captive.

His parted lips shrinking the distance is the last thing you see, before you close your eyes shut. You would breathe if your lungs hadn't given up, the increase of strength in Phainon's grip seizes you with fear, makes it feel as though your blood froze with dread. Your instincts stop kicking, accepting its place in the serpent's jaw.

You feel a sharp kick of spice on your tongue, washing through your parched throat. A force has you closing your mouth, holding it in place until the content has been swallowed.

You heave as if you reached the surface from an arduous dive at last, mind working overtime, trying to process what just took place.

A clink of the spoon as it's placed on the bowl startles you, Phainon closes his eyes, a smile nearly splits his face in two.

“That's more like it. See, it was delicious and perfectly free of questionable substances, no?”

Phainon's smile breaks into a chuckle at the astonished look on your face, you feel a twist somewhere inside at the way derision drips from its tune. But before you can observe further, you feel a swipe of his finger on your lower lip. You make the mistake of glancing at him and he utilizes your mishap to make a show of licking the residue from your lips clean.

If you were skeptical about it before, you are certain now — this man will be your doom.

SIKE.

[synthetickitsune]

Joshua (SVT) | Souvenirs fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader

“And then…” your boyfriend trails off as he excitedly rummages through the bag on the table. He’s glowing. Wearing his gray sweats and matching hoodie, his hair still damp from the shower, he looks like a masterpiece and you’d lie if you said you weren’t jealous. And the sparkle in his eyes…

“This!” Joshua exclaims as he pulls yet another perfume bottle out of the bag, “I actually layered this with the other one today, but I don’t think the scent survived.”

He sniffs his wrist but obviously the perfume stood no chance against a long flight, longer layover, and a shower.

“You can just apply it now, you know,” you roll your eyes at him, “I won’t say no to my boyfriend smelling nice.”

He gives you a playful glare but does exactly as told without any hesitation. You can already tell the two scents go well together, however the result is just the cherry on top of seeing your boyfriend dutifully applying the perfume and beaming when he sees your content smile. If only he knew. Or maybe not, you don’t feel like dealing with his petty side.

“Do you like it?” he asks anyway.

You hum like you need to think about it and push yourself forward, draping yourself over him. Joshua makes a surprised noise but quickly opens his arms for you and hugs you back.

“It smells better when it’s on you,” you whisper before kissing his jaw. He chuckles as his hand comes up to gently wrap around the back of your neck. He easily guides you towards his lips, sighing in relief when you kiss him back.

“I missed you,” he confesses with a bump of his nose against yours when you part.

“I missed you too,” you reassure him, indulging him with a smile when he steals another kiss, “We should continue,” you nod towards the bag, “We have a lot left to go.”

It seems still half full, yet it also seems too little if it gives you an excuse to sit cuddled up to Joshua. Not that he’d push you away without one.

“Then the next thing is…” he rummages in the bag as if there was an order to the items inside. 

You watch him, and while you realize you must look pathetically smitten with him, you allow it this once. He’s so focused but so clearly excited to share the souvenirs he brought back from his most recent trip abroad. His lips are pursued, his skin is glowing. He doesn’t look at all like he’s sleep deprived and exhausted. Instead your boyfriend looks ready for another photoshoot, the morning sun making him look all the softer and more domestic than is good for your longing heart. 

“Stop that,” Joshua whines, never introducing the next item - finally not a perfume bottle, but something hiding in his palm. You tilt your head without losing the smile you’re wearing. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you tease, laying your head on his shoulder, “Can’t I just admire my boyfriend after not seeing him for so long?”

The corners of his lips turn up, a movement that’s very hypnotising regardless of how small it is. 

“It’s distracting,” he whines while he presses his lips against your forehead.

“It’s not my problem that you’re shy,” you poke his side. Growling playfully, he pushes you back and hovers over your body once your back hits the sofa. You avoid his eyes when he leans down and gently nips at your ear.

“Who’s shy now?” he whispers, as if his proximity wasn’t enough to spread goosebumps over your body.

You sigh, not one ounce of strength in your body to push him away. He chuckles at your lack of response and makes up with you with a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I thought you wanted me to show you what else I got,” he coos, “Maybe there’s a gift for you too.”

You finally turn to look at him, you manage to raise your hand and push some of his hair away from his pretty face. Somehow, though, you can’t be bothered to care about the souvenirs or the possible gifts. Not with him here, with you, home, where he belongs.

As if he could read your mind, he smiles and puts the objects previously hidden in his palm away, stuffing it behind a pillow so you can’t see it.

“What was that?” you ask because it’s not like him to hide anything. 

“You’ll see soon,” he shakes his head, then when you try to move and look, he adds: “Or is it more important than me?”

It makes you suspicious and your curiosity grows too, but they both fade in comparison to the overwhelming love you feel when Joshua looks at you like you’re his entire world. Of course nothing is more important than him, and you gladly remind him of the fact when you pull him closer.

The small heart-shaped box will guard its secrets until it’s revealed.

[v6quewrlds]

💞 Joe burrow! Your choice of genre !

imagine a cold war with joe.

Joe looked over from the couch, his expression a mix of surprise and guilt. "You're home early," he said, standing up to give you a kiss. You turned your head, the kiss landing on your cheek instead of your lips. 

"I told you I'd be home around 7." Your voice filled with false calm as you held up the takeout bags. "I brought dinner from our favorite place and everything."

"Oh, shit!" Ja'Marr jumped to his feet at the sound of something other than Joe's ‘rabbit food’.

"Not for you," you shot the wide receiver a look that could cut through steel before sending another searing look at Joe. "Who's playing?" You knew better than to start an argument in front of his friends, especially when they were in such high spirits.

"Lakers and Nets," Tee announced, his eyes glued to the giant TV screen. "It's pretty good, you should join us."

You nodded, keeping your smile in place. "Maybe later." You didn't miss the look of concern on Sam's face, or the way Tee's smile faltered when he finally turned to see your expression. Only Ja'Marr remained blissfully unaware, shouting at the TV after a disheartening Lakers turnover.

"Hope you guys enjoy," you said, retreating into the kitchen. You heard Joe follow you, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor. He leaned against the counter, his eyes searching yours for some kind of explanation for the cold shoulder.

"I fucked up, didn't I?" Joe said, his voice low as he studied your tight expression.

You didn't bother to hide your frustration as you placed the food in the microwave. "You could say that," you replied, your voice tight. "You didn't mention you were having the guys over."

"You weren't even supposed to be home yet," Joe said defensively. "You always work late on Thursdays."

You closed the microwave with more force than necessary. "Did I not tell you I'd be home early tonight? That we needed to talk?" You didn't wait for his answer, your voice rising. "And you couldn't even bother to send me a text to let me know that the guys were coming over?"

"Right, because you read all your texts, huh?" Joe retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Look, I didn't expect you to actually be home early. And even if I had, I wouldn't have canceled on the guys. We need this."

"Whatever, Joe," you scoffed. "Go entertain your friends. I'll eat upstairs."

"Babe, come on. You can't be serious," Joe pleaded, his voice a mix of irritation and confusion. "Just come watch the game with us. We'll talk after."

"No," you said firmly, turning to face him. "This is ridiculous." Your voice was tightly coiled, your eyes flashing with anger. You could feel the angry heat rising in your cheeks, but you didn't care. All you knew was that you couldn't spend another night pretending everything was fine.

"What do you want me to do?" Joe's voice was low and tired, his patience wearing thin. "I can't tell them to leave."

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your temper. "You can tell them to keep it down," you said finally. "I have stuff to do."

Joe nodded. "Okay," he murmured. He turned and walked back into the living room, leaving you alone with the microwave's hum for company.

[nerdallwritey]

Don't! Cross! This! Line! With Your Hand.

Summary: “I’ll tell you what, they didn’t call me ‘Astarion the Trustworthy’ for nothing.” He made to hand you the instrument, then snatched it back just as quickly. “They DIDN’T call me ‘Astarion the Trustworthy,’ they called me ‘Astarion the BLOODTHIRSTY, who KILLS whoever doesn’t give Astarion exactly what he wants in the moment that he wants it! Which is RIGHT NOW when I had better get my back read out to me!’” You looked at him with wide eyes, trying and nearly failing to withhold a laugh. He was trying to play this game with you. He really was. But you could see how desperately he wanted answers, too.  Astarion, in turn, puffed his chest out as if trying to stand his ground.  Just a little longer with the teasing, then you’d help him. “That’s what they called you?” you asked. Astarion looked up as if trying to grasp what exactly he should say next. “It was… shorter in Elvish.” OR Astarion asks for help with reading the scars on his back. You give him a hard time in the process. NOTE: This is a crack fic is based on this scene from Night at the Museum 2: Battle of the Smithsonian. ADDITIONALLY: This is a tumblr exclusive post because I can't be bothered to properly format it on ao3 or taint the Night at the Museum tag over there 😅 (I'm willing to post it there if people want me to but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Pairing: Astarion x gn!reader Rating: Mature Word count: 2.1k CW: strong-ish language, stupidity, Night at the Museum 2 Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline

a/n: I wrote this back in March of 2024, WAAAAAAYYY before I ever posted An Evening to Ourselves. It was never supposed to see the light of day and yet, here we are. I recently reached 300 followers on this account and was encouraged by @vividiana and @khywren to post this crack fic as a celebration of sorts. Here's what I wrote in the google doc I originally wrote this piece in: "I wrote this purely because I love this dumb scene a lot and I thought it was a funny dynamic between Astarion and my Tav. It’s bad. It’s good. It is what it is." Please enjoy!

There it was. Your precious lute. Wood worn from loving hands cradling it through years of song. Haphazardly shoved into the back of a tent with jars full of what you assumed was the blood of wild animals. Rags and other miscellaneous objects thrown on top of it to try and hide it from view. Nothing too heavy though. She’d sing another day.

You KNEW Astarion had taken it. The bastard.

He’d begged you to stop playing when you were working out a tune on the way to the Risen Road. He’d begged you to stop playing when you made your way back to camp. It hardly seemed fair that he would take it and hide it while you were helping Gale with dinner. You couldn’t help that annoying him was one of your favorite pastimes.

Still, he hadn’t destroyed the instrument as he had threatened to do so eloquently. That was something. Though Astarion rarely ever made good on his threats to you or your prized possessions.

Puffing out a short breath to move a strand of hair out of your face, you crouched, doing your best to mimic what your resident rogue might do in this situation. Looking around, Astarion was nowhere to be seen. Strange, given the time of evening - perfect time to ignore everyone and read something he’d picked up on the road - but you couldn’t complain. Here was the perfect time to take back what was rightfully yours.

On your hands and knees you crawled forward, ducking your head under the low flap of his tent. Gently, you removed the debris covering the beloved instrument, and scurried backwards again to make off with your loot.

“Stoooooop-” you heard a familiar voice bellow from the treeline, “-right there, darling.”

Spinning on your heel, you turned to greet an irritated, and shirtless, Astarion. His brows were knit together in a scowl as he marched towards you. Specks of blood littered his skin. He must have just come from a hunt.

“Evening, Astarion,” you chirped innocently. “Were you out hunting for a shirt?”

He ignored your quip and instead got up into your personal space. Thrown off by his proximity, you dropped your guard a bit, allowing him to reach forward and snatch the lute out of your hands.

“Give me that!” you lunged after his hand but he held the instrument out of your reach.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he tisked. “First, you’re going to do something for me.” He turned to give you a look at his back.

You were met with the intricate scar you’d only seen a handful of times before. Once when you’d accidentally come across him washing his shirt in a nearby stream, and another the morning following the Tiefling party after you’d spent the night with him.

The intricate patterns drove a dull ache through your heart. Astarion had mentioned it had been carved into his skin over the course of a single night by his ruthless master, Cazador. You scrunched your nose and scowled at the thought, then softened, feeling sympathy for the man before you. Speaking of-

“I know a few healing spells, but I don’t think they’d help with this,” you said, genuinely.

“Obviously not,” Astarion spat over his shoulder. Then he sighed. “Sorry, I- That’s not what I meant. I was wondering if you could help me read them. The scars. I’ve been trying to read them by touch, but I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashimi.”

You crossed your arms and examined his back. You recognized the language of the runes: Infernal. Your eyes zeroed in on the lute in his hand. Might as well have some fun if he insisted on being annoying.

“I’ll help you read your back,” you said, a teasing lilt in your tone, “when you release my lute and give it back to me.”

Astarion turned again to face you and caught a mischievous look in your eye. You saw him mirror it. He knew you’d read the scars for him. But a game was afoot.

He straightened his posture and lifted his head in a way you’d seen him do dozens of times now: I’m better than you. I’m looking down on you. Come here and I’ll snatch you right up.

“I shall release what I want to release the moment I want to release it.”

You snorted. “Great. And I’ll read what I want to read at the exact moment that I want to read it, okay?”

Astarion huffed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Tell me what it says right now or I shall destroy ALL your instruments, starting with the little worn out piece of driftwood here.” He waggled the lute by its neck lamely to punctuate his point.

“It’s spruce!” you feigned offense. “Fine, if you’re not gonna give me back my lute, then I’m never going to help you translate the Infernal on your back.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Infernal… what was that bastard up to?” His eyes flicked back to yours. “Alright,” he said. “Alright.”

“Good,” you said, leaning forward for the lute.

Astarion tilted back a little, keeping his grip firmly on the lute. You gave him a look of confusion.

“I’ll tell you what, they didn’t call me ‘Astarion the Trustworthy’ for nothing.” He made to hand you the instrument, then snatched it back just as quickly. “They DIDN’T call me ‘Astarion the Trustworthy,’ they called me ‘Astarion the BLOODTHIRSTY, who KILLS whoever doesn’t give Astarion exactly what he wants in the moment that he wants it! Which is RIGHT NOW when I had better get my back read out to me!’”

You looked at him with wide eyes, trying and nearly failing to withhold a laugh. He was trying to play this game with you. He really was. But you could see how desperately he wanted answers, too. 

Astarion, in turn, puffed his chest out as if trying to stand his ground. 

Just a little longer with the teasing, then you’d help him.

“That’s what they called you?” you asked.

Astarion looked up as if trying to grasp what exactly he should say next. “It was… shorter in Elvish.”

“Great, well, I’ll read your back after you give me back-” you reached forward once more for the lute and your fingers brushed one of the strings, letting out a soft trill. 

“How dare you,” Astarion pivoted on his heel away from you. “If you touch that again, I shall kill you right now.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes. For all his talk, you knew Astarion would never hurt you intentionally. 

He pointed at the lute and continued: “Do not touch this. This is a no touching zone.” He waved his free hand in front of the lute, drawing an invisible barrier through the air. 

“Good! Well, then-” you reached out and strummed a few of the strings that were within your reach.

Astarion angled his body to cut you off. “Oh my gods,” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe you reached across like that.”

Again, you tried extremely hard to keep yourself from laughing. 

Astarion smiled and kept going. “I can’t even believe it. Oh, gods, I want to kill you right- If I didn’t need you to read my back you’d be- you’d be so dead right now, it would be unbelievable.”

For all his practiced words and charm, he was failing miserably at threatening you articulately. You both knew it but neither of you would be the one to break first.

“Great, but you DO need my help to read your back.”

Astarion used his free hand again to dramatically redraw the barrier between you and his arm holding your lute. “Don’t! Cross! This! Line! With your hand.”

“No-”

“How dare you-”

“What I’m saying is-”

“If you speak again-”

“Nobody else-”

“If you SPEAK again, I’m GOING to kill you. Do you understand?”

You attempted to give an answer to this, but the vampire cut you off gleefully.

“Don’t say any- Oh gods I see you getting ready-”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh my gods! Don’t say anything!”

Sucking in your lips and holding your breath, you did your best to remain nonchalant. Astarion could see you were about to break. He leaned in and lowered his voice.

“I shall murder you if you talk again. Now would you please… read what's on my damn back?” He turned once again to show you the pattern in his skin. You took this as your chance to snatch your lute back.

Your hand connected with the instrument. “Okay, after you give this back to me.”

Astarion slowly turned back to you, feigning disbelief and using his free hand to clutch at his chest in mock pain. “You did both! You spoke, and you reached your hand across!” He whipped his arm holding the lute back to his side, forcing you to let go.

“Look,” you said, placing your hands on your hips, “I could do this with you all night, okay?”

“How about this?” Astarion moved his hand to the pegboard of the lute and brought his free hand to the base. He then kicked the back of your knee, making you shift off balance, and finally came around behind you, holding the neck of the lute against your throat. “How about I DON’T kill you right now like I really, REALLY want to, and I give you precisely five seconds to read what’s been carved into my back.”

“Oh my gooooooods,” came another voice. “You two need to stop flirting so loudly around the rest of us.”

Karlach meandered over, dragging her hands down her face indicating she’d heard enough. 

“Astarion, the infernal on your back doesn’t say anything specific. It’s part of some larger devilish pact or some shit. I can’t be fucked.”

You both looked to Karlach and then back at each other. Astarion released you from the “threatening” hold he had you in and the pair of you turned to face your tiefling friend. 

“Karlach,” Astarion started, “you know how to read?”

The flames that surrounded Karlach’s body burned brightly for a moment. “Of course I know how to read, you absolute twat hat.”

That made you start to laugh in earnest.

“And you, soldier!” Karlach focused her attention on you and you immediately shut up. “If you’re gonna bang fangs, good for you by the way, but if you’re gonna bang fangs, have the decency to keep it down? Some of us are really pent up and can’t do anything about it.”

You cringed inwardly. “So sorry, we’ll keep it down from now on.” you elbowed Astarion.

“Ow! Yes, sure, sorry.”

“Good. Now put a shirt on, fancy boy.” With that, Karlach made her way back to her tent. 

The both of you stayed quiet for another moment.

“Still feel like murdering me?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“Great. Turn around.” You knelt down in the dirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Turn around,” you repeated.

Astarion did as he was told and turned to show you his back. You stared for a moment, then took to drawing it in the dusty ground in front of you. When you were done, you patted Astarion’s calf and he turned back to face you.

“What in the hells?” Then, after a moment, “What did he do to me?”

Looking at the runes you’d dutifully copied into the dirt, you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, apart from what Karlach had already told you. You stayed silent.

“Two centuries carrying this, and I can finally see it.” Disbelief and confusion coated his words. 

“You really have no idea what this is?”

“None at all… Cazador was only figuratively hellish - there were never any devils hanging about the crypt.” 

You rose to stand and joined Astarion by his side. 

He sighed. “Whatever he’s left carved in my flesh, it’s a mystery to me. But if this is part of a contract, it must be powerful. Or valuable. Or both.” Something hungry played in his tone.

You nudged him gently. Come back. “No wonder he wants me back. What have I run off with?” 

He spoke more to himself than you. You left his side briefly to rummage through his things not a few feet away from you. You tossed one of his own shirts at him, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“We’ll figure it out,” you walked back to his side. “I promise.”

“Will we?” He searched your eyes. “How… sweet.” 

You half smiled, then your eyes trailed down to your lute still in his hand. “Can I have that back now?”

“Not a chance, darling.”

[barbiegirldream]

I understand where you're coming from absolutely. I know my fandom history. I did a minor in queer studies I know queer coding. I also know that homophobic fans attack gay ships when they're not canon because they're never canon.

Bakudeku can be as real in your heart as you want it to be. I was just assessing the narrative of the story. Not if I think bakudeku shippers need to die which of course I do not. Like to me itafushi is the only valid ship in all of jjk and no one not even Gege himself telling me directly will ever change my mind. As for not confirming m/f ships Gege didn't even bother to say Maki is the grandmother to Yuta's grandkids he just assumed we'd get it looking at them. And everyone did. Doesn't mean no matter the jokes about how it could be anyone Yuta got with that Yutamaki isn't clearly canon. What's actually happening isn't a secret messags that the m/f ship isn't happening it's taking for granted the the assumption of heternormativity and straight romance.

But the reason so many people take Ochako and Deku as canon is pretty simple. "Let's talk more" isn't literal in the we should talk more. It's how people say they want to start dating now. for example if a guy asks "are you talking to anyone else?" he doesn't literally mean do you have conversations with others. He means flirting with others. Ochako and Deku want to See each other more. As bizzare as it is Toga is the representation of romance. As much as I joke Ochako is repressing her love for Toga it's clear Hori intended Toga to be the wingwoman from the beyond. Just like Bakugo was for Deku.

There is a lot of history in mha in the fandom. In fandom history. in shonen jump. There's a lot of context to our disucssion. But you have to remove all that and just look at the story. Just cause they didn't kiss doesn't mean Hori wasn't intending for it to be read as the start of a relationship. After what he clearly felt was sufficient enough slow burn build up <- it wasn't but most things in mha weren't.

And the reason I was separating it from Itafushi is that I don't think Gege intended for romance because of the themes of the story centering around preserving childhood. Which is the last thing poor Megumi gets to say in the whole series. Gege also clearly likes the love-sick teenage girl trope doing it to both Hana and Ozawa, which is another can of worms to open, so I won't.

If I had a nickel for every time almost half the fandom called a ship canon based off of a casual conversation in a shounen manga's epilogue, I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice…

_________________________________

If I had a nickel for every time a shounen manga ended with no canon ships but somehow half the fandom still found a way to discredit one of its most profound fanships just because they were M/M, I'd have 2 nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

[genderlessghoul]

Hey so some while ago I wrote a bit about Dew's elemental transition and him taking it well and NOT HAVING ANGST ATTACHED TO IT FOR ONCE CUZ I'M SOFT!!! (Affectionately to anyone who writes angst, I love you)

Anyway I talked a bit about Rain's summoning in that post and I wanted to write it better so I did! It's under the cut.

~1k of Dew falling in love at first sight

Dewdrop stands in front of his mirror, ceremonial cloak in hand. Anticipation and dread eat at his nerves as he stares at his own reflection. He barely recognizes what the mirror shows him now. Just a few weeks after his elemental transition, he's not yet used to this new version of himself. 

No more gills. No more fins. His silky soft white hair now a more orange blonde, blue eyes replaced with amber. Scorch marks and scars over all his once discernible Water features. 

He doesn't regret his choice. He says it loud and clear to anyone who'll listen. Water was familiar, but never home. Fire embraces him, makes him feel welcomed. That doesn't make it any easier for him to live this new change, to recognize the stranger looking at him from the other side of the mirror. He throws his cloak on with a sigh before heading out his door. Tonight, the Clergy summons its newest ghouls. Air and Water. The Water that will take his place in the band and- No. Dewdrop pushes the thought aside. He cannot, will not, resent the new ghoul simply for existing. He doesn't regret his choice.

The Fire ghoul runs into Aether, also on his way to the room where this ancient ritual will take place. As the new head of the Quintessence ghouls (by default of being now the only one), it's his job to welcome the new summons.

“You doing alright?”

He asks the nerve-wracked smaller ghoul.

“'m fine, just… nervous.”

“You can tell me what's on your mind, you know? It's kind of a big deal, what's happening tonight.”

“I just hope that-” Dewdrop pauses, not sure exactly what he's hoping for. “That we get a good one.”

Aether hums in acknowledgment and the both of them keep walking in silence, picking up Mountain on the way. The last three ghouls remaining after the events following the death of the Emeritus brothers. They make their way to the summoning chamber, where Sister Imperator and the shiny new Cardinal are already waiting, candles lit and sigils drawn on the floor.

The woman instructs them into place, around the circle of candles and explains the ceremony. He can't be bothered to pay much attention, he watches Aether pick up the cloaks for the ghouls-to-be and take place next to him. All Dew has to do is stand there and keep his mouth shut. Should be easy enough.

Imperator stands by the Cardinal as she shoves a book in his hands and reminds him of the incantations. He takes a hesitant step forward, gripping the ancient book in an iron grip that Dew can't help wondering if he'll rip the thing in half. Copia clears his throat nervously before he starts to read with a shaky voice. 

A small wind picks up in the room, slowly growing in intensity as the Cardinal reads until it turns into a tornado that takes out most of the candles around the summoning circle. He finishes the incantation and the tornado disappears, revealing two Air ghoulettes sitting in the middle of the circle, both looking just as confused as everyone else in the room.

Two?

Aether looks at Imperator, wanting confirmation before breaking into the circle. She gives a quizzical look in response and the Quintessence ghoul takes it as his unusual cue to go greet the newcomers. He offers them both a hand and gives them the two ceremonial cloaks he had with him. 

Dew watches as Aether greets them and exchanges a few words, getting them into place around the circle. Now is not the time for long winded explanations, they still have one ghoul to summon. The Fire ghoul fidgets nervously under his cloak. His heart feels like it's going to burst out of his ribcage at any moment, the anticipation slowly killing him.

The Cardinal lets out a dry chuckle while Imperator glares at him with daggers shooting out of her eyes. How do you mess up a spell that badly that you end up summoning two ghouls at once?

Copia does his best to ignore the Sister and flicks the book to another page for the next incantation. He looks up at Dew expectantly and the ghoul gives him a confused expression before he catches on.

Oh, right.

He walks around the circle and relights the extinguished candles with ease before taking his place again. The Cardinal starts to read again and Dew wonders what kind of small natural disaster he's going to conjure, this time around.

Everyone stares in equal parts of awe and confusion when the inside of the summoning circle turns into a puddle. No hurricane or tsunami, no downpour or thunderstorm. Just a puddle of stillwater. After a moment of absolutely nothing happening, the top of a head peeks out of the water, a curtain of black hair sticking to blue skin. A pair of curious amphibian eyes stare down the people in the room while the rest of the ghoul, if it even is one, stays completely submerged underwater.

Dew shoots a glance as Aether, who looks like he's at a complete loss of what to do in this new scenario. Before he even knows it, the Fire ghoul is kneeling in front of the puddle.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

A voice calls out from beneath the surface and Dew has to fight every single atom in his body not to jump in the water right then and there.

“How you feel about getting outta there, right now?”

“Water's nice.”

“We have better pools.”

The pair of eyes blinks slowly at him. Dew's face becomes incredibly hot and he convinces himself it's from having everyone in the room watching him. A webbed hand with slender fingers reaches out of the water and he takes it, pulling the new ghoul out of the puddle with effort. He takes his own ceremonial cloak off and offers it to the newcomer, covering his naked form in an attempt not to ogle him so soon after being summoned.

“I'm Dew, by the way.”

“Rain.”

Rain. The Fire ghoul repeats in his mind. Sounds like home.

[deatheaterv]

HUNG THE MOON

pairing : harry potter x fem!reader

genre : fluff

summary : harry potter secretly leaves you thoughtful gifts, too shy to approach.

the common room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. harry sat in the corner, fidgeting with a piece of parchment that he hadn’t written anything on. his heart thudded annoyingly loud in his chest as he glanced over to where you sat, curled up with a book on the couch.

you weren’t even doing anything extraordinary. just reading. but you had this way of existing that made it impossible for him to look away. he was sure if he tried to talk to you, he’d either trip over his words or worse, make you think he was some kind of idiot. so instead, he just sat there, thinking about how he could get closer to you without actually, you know, talking.

and then it hit him.

the next morning, a neatly wrapped package appeared at your usual spot in the great hall. it was small, tied with emerald green ribbon, and your name was scribbled on the tag in handwriting that was careful but a little crooked. inside was a tiny, enchanted quill that glowed softly when you wrote, perfect for late-night essays. no note, no explanation. just the gift.

you frowned, curious, but you liked it. it wasn’t every day someone left you something so thoughtful.

the gifts didn’t stop there.

the next day, there was a charm bracelet, each tiny trinket representing something from your favorite class. how they knew your favorite class was beyond you. the day after that, a soft scarf in your house colors that smelled faintly of cedarwood and something else comforting. each gift was small but meaningful, left without any indication of who was behind it.

you couldn’t help but smile every time you found one, though the mystery was driving you a little mad.

harry, meanwhile, was in shambles. he’d watch you from across the common room, his heart leaping every time you smiled at something he left for you. but he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

until one evening.

you were heading back to the dorms when you found him standing awkwardly near the stairs, his face redder than a howler.

“harry?” you tilted your head, stopping a few steps away.

he blinked, his green eyes wide as if he hadn’t expected to get caught. “uh—hi.”

you crossed your arms, the tiniest smirk playing on your lips. “so, are you going to tell me why i keep finding all these ridiculously perfect gifts or should i keep pretending i don’t know it’s you?”

his jaw dropped. “you knew?..”

“harry, you’re the only person in this house who stares at me like i’ve hung the moon,” you said softly, stepping closer. “i just couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want to talk to me.”

he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “i was scared. i didn’t think you’d… i mean, i didn’t want to bother you.”

you smiled, so warm and bright it made his stomach flip. “harry, you could never bother me. i think the gifts are sweet. but next time, maybe just… talk to me? i don’t bite.”

his cheeks turned impossibly red, but he nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips. “okay. i can do that.”

and he did. eventually. but for now, you just stood there, smiling at each other like two complete fools, neither one in any rush to move.

[thebigqueer]

"dirt in the wounds" - Caitvi - One-Shot

Summary: caitlyn and vi bump into each other after one of vi's pit fighting matches. angst and hate sex ensues (but it's not smut because i don't go into that much detail about the actual sex). inspired by this art by @koifee and this one from twitter! Notes: important CWs: blood & injury, vomiting, alcohol use/abuse, sexual content. Word Count: 9197 Read on AO3

Vi’s not sure how long she’s been on the ground, crumpled in a puddle of her own blood and sweat and drool. All she knows is that all of the audience has petered out and that her rise on the charts was short-lived. 

It’s kind of a blow to her ego, if anything. After everything that had happened the past few months - getting out of prison, finding her sister and losing her again, falling for some stupid Enforcer and being inevitably betrayed - her fists have been the only thing keeping her going. If she couldn’t save the people she loved, she could at least fight the pain of her failures. 

But after the straight losing streak over the past few nights, she supposes even that comfort had to end at some point. It was only a matter of time before she would fail even herself. 

As she’s lying on the ground, watching her blood soak into the dust, head pounding and jaw pulsing and teeth aching, she wonders how many more punches she can take. Maybe she should ask someone to just knock everything out of her in one go. It would speed up the process.

Her hand twitches, and the motion surprises her, as if it wasn’t even her own body. She drags it into her line of vision and stares at her knuckles, bruised and bloodied from her embarrassing attempts tonight. She rolls her hand over in the dim lighting, and as she does, a hazy memory floats the surface of her mind. Her and Vander, sitting in the warm glow of the basement of The Last Drop, his eyes full of regret and disappointment, her chest raging in frustration. 

That path? He’d taken her hand, bloodied even then, so many years ago, and looked at her. This? It’s not gonna solve your problems. Just makes more of ‘em.

She wonders what Vander would say now if he saw her. She wonders what she’d tell him. “You were wrong”? If anything, fighting has been her only path. 

A thudding sound makes her heart jump, and she flicks her eyes around, waiting patiently for whoever it is that wants to bother her now. A foot comes into view in front of her, and when she looks up, she finds the rat-faced referee, holding a bucket of whatever slop he was eating. She narrows her eyes at him. 

“Ey, kid, you can’t just lie here.” He bends down to face her and throws another piece of meat into his mouth. “Show’s over. Go home.” 

Vi just continues staring at him. Her silence seems to make him squirm, and maybe a few weeks ago that would have made Vi feel good, but now she can’t even feel proud of that; it’s such a small win compared to all the losses she’s faced. 

But then his eyebrows lower in what looks like pity, and any sense of pride she gained evaporates immediately. Her teeth grind against each other. 

“Listen, kid,” he says. “We all have bad days. Just go home and get some rest.”

The sound of his remorse scratches against her and lights some sort of match. It’s a small flame, but it does the job - she uses the last of her energy to push herself up into a sitting position. Her muscles throb, her head spins, her abdomen burns, but she pushes herself up even through it. 

She spits out some blood. The referee’s pity doesn’t relent.

Vi’s hand whips out against the bucket, and the meat goes sprawling. 

“Hey!” he exclaims, his eyes now narrowing in rage. Better than the pity. 

She stumbles to her feet and starts wobbling towards the tunnel exit. The referee throws a slew of insults at her, but all she can manage is a weak middle finger as she stalks her way through the darkness, gripping her abdomen, trying to keep herself together. 

The alleys are bustling on the outside, filled with audience-goers talking animatedly about the matches. There’s laughter, groans, shouting, drunkards swaying and talking loudly. Vi clings to the wall to try to keep her balance, and her vision blurs with each step forward as another pulse of pain erupts from her abdomen. Her skin stings with the weight of people’s stares on her, their whispers and jeers. Shame hardens around her with each step forward. 

She needs a drink. She needs a punch. She needs something more painful than whatever this hollowness in her heart is. 

Blinded by her own self-pity, she hardly registers when she shoves into something tall and soft and stumbles to the ground. It takes a second of blinking rapidly before her vision clears, and she looks up, her fists already clenching, her teeth already gritting, preparing for her next fight. A figure in a purple cloak hovers over her, and when Vi blinks again, the figure is bent over her, hands outstretched in surrender. 

“Sorry,” the figure mutters. The blade of the street lights strikes against their features, and Vi’s heart shudders to a stop in her chest. 

The exhaustion and pain that weighed Vi down just seconds ago slide off as a new adrenaline surges in her stomach. She yanks herself to her feet and lunges, hand curved for the throat. But before she can even get her grip on the figure, white hot pain cracks through her arm, and a cry rips out of her. Her gaze whips to her wrist, which is now pinned to the wall by pale, slender fingers, then turns back to the figure. 

And Caitlyn’s eyes stare right back at her. 

“Vi?” she hisses, her eyebrows knitting together, growing more irritated by the second. Her nails dig deeper into Vi’s skin, but when she grunts at the stab of pain, Caitlyn’s gaze whips back to her wrist. A new shock falls over her, and she immediately lets go. Vi falls to her knees, cradling her wrist to her chest, and looks up at Caitlyn, hissing through her teeth. 

There were about a million ways Vi imagined meeting with Caitlyn again. In most scenarios, Vi imagined, maybe selfishly, that she got her turn to leave Caitlyn on the ground, begging for forgiveness. And she’s been training for that moment: after the matches, as her opponents look up at her with pain glazed over their eyes, it’s Caitlyn’s face she sees. When they’re sobbing, pleading for mercy, it’s Caitlyn’s voice she hears. 

But now that they’re facing each other again, only dread hardens in Vi’s stomach. Isn’t this exactly how they left each other? Caitlyn, looking down at her, tall and mighty, and Vi looking up at her, crumpled over in pain. 

All that training, all that imagining - gone to waste. Vi is right back where she started.

She scowls at Caitlyn around her bangs. “Why are you here?” she spits.

Caitlyn’s spine straightens, and her eyes flicker around nervously. Vi almost scoffs. Is there ever a moment she isn’t on guard? 

“Business,” she finally mutters, then turns her gaze back on Vi. For a brief second, Vi catches that familiar cold determination in her eyes, the same one she’d seen down there in the sewers so many months ago. But then it gives way to a softness, something similar to pity, and once again rage surges through Vi.

Maybe Caitlyn spots the rage in Vi’s eyes, because her features shift again. Something more like curiosity. Caitlyn’s eyes roll over her, and Vi can almost hear the thoughts in her head as the frown pulses on her face.

“I saw you in there,” Caitlyn says finally. “Hardly recognized you at first.” Her eyebrow flicks. “New pastime?”

Vi’s mind flickers back to Vander, at his grip on her wrists. She looks back at her wrists now, rolls them over in the streetlight. “No,” she mutters, “not new.”

Before Caitlyn can respond, Vi turns her head away and focuses on gathering her strength. After a brief moment, she presses her hand against the wall and starts to pull herself up, relying solely on the prowess of her own muscles. She manages to lift herself a bit, but then the wound in her abdomen pulses, and she stumbles. 

Just before she falls again, a pair of arms catches her. A strange scent overwhelms her - not the dirty gases of the Undercity, not the trash around her, but something sweet. Violets.  

Caitlyn eases her onto the ground, propping her back to the wall, and as she does this, Vi’s eyes burn with frustrated tears. It’s one thing to be unable to get up on her own; it’s another to have Caitlyn watch her crumble right before her. 

“I don’t need your help,” Vi growls around her shame, hiding her face behind her bangs. It’s bad enough she’s caught her in this state, useless to even herself; she doesn’t need Caitlyn to see the tears in her eyes either.

Caitlyn sighs irritably and lets go. She bends down on her knees to meet Vi’s eyes, and the sight only makes Vi’s rage flame. She feels like a child. 

“How do you plan on getting home?” Caitlyn asks, brows knitting together in the middle. Not in concern, but as if she’s trying to prove a point. 

“Since when do you care?” Vi meets Caitlyn’s eyes again with purpose. “It’s not the first time you’ve left me on the ground.” 

Caitlyn only stares at her, and something unreadable flits through her eyes. Her jaw locks in place, shifts around. Then her eyelids flutter as she rolls her irritation out of her eyes. “I don’t see anyone else around to help you.”

Vi blinks and looks around. For what, exactly, she doesn’t know. Someone to come in and help her? Loris gave up on her. She wants nothing to do with Jinx anymore. None of these stupid audience members is going to come to her aid; if anything, one of them will just try to steal whatever money she has in her back pocket. 

She knows Caitlyn’s only talking about the present. But Vi’s come to the same conclusion a million times since the night at the sewers. 

Vi narrows her eyes at Caitlyn. “I’ve managed just fine every other night. But thanks for your concern.” 

She shifts herself to try to stand up again, but even that movement is too much for her; her abdomen throbs, and this time she cries out. Her vision blurs as tears prickle her eyes, and she grits her teeth.

A flicker of movement catches Vi’s eyes, and she looks down. Through the blurriness of her tears, she can make out the shape of a pale hand. 

Vi glares at it. “You don’t even know where I live.” 

Caitlyn tilts her head to the side. “Then show me the way.” 

Vi scoffs. Then, grudgingly, she grabs her hand. 

~~~

The walk back to Vi’s apartment is charged. The air around them feels denser than anything Vi’s ever felt living in the Undercity, and her lungs burn in Caitlyn’s vicinity.

A hood covers Caitlyn’s face, and each time the streetlight strikes her face, Vi can only see a glimpse of her lips and the bottom half of her face. It’s grown a little thinner, but other than that she looks about the same.

Vi almost wants to laugh. Here, Vi’s been trying to escape her failures by changing every possible thing she can about herself. Then there’s Caitlyn, looking the same as ever, if not even more arrogant. Vi doesn’t know why she’s bothered giving a shit about her; clearly she has more important things to be worrying about. 

As Caitlyn lugs Vi along on her side, one arm around her waist, Vi wonders what kind of business could be bringing her to the Undercity anyway - or what could constitute her coming alone, no less. 

Vi weighs the consequences of whether or not to ask her. But as they’re stumbling through a familiar narrow alleyway - just at the end of this are the stairs to her apartment - her eyes catch on the poster to the left. The commander’s face stares back at them through the dimness of the tunnel, stern and proud as she looks off into the distance, her decorated cloak sharp against her shoulders.

Vi steals a look at the Caitlyn next to her. Her jaw locks in place, eyes steely as she glances at the poster.

Vi grits her teeth and decides she doesn’t want to know the answer. 

After a bit more of limping and grunting, they eventually find themselves stumbling through Vi’s door. Caitlyn helps set Vi down on her bed, and she cries out at the sting that erupts from her abdomen at the motion. Once she’s down, a long sigh drags out of her, and she leans her arms behind her and spreads her legs, trying to breathe out the pain. 

As soon as the stinging clears a little, Vi looks up at Caitlyn, and her shoulders grow heavy as the weight of this moment settles over her. Caitlyn’s face glows green in the sliver of streetlight that bleeds through Vi’s window. Her eyes wander around, catching on every detail of Vi’s apartment, and with each passing second, her disgust only hardens. 

The scene is almost hilarious. Caitlyn, tall and arrogant even in her plain cloak, surrounded only by scum. It almost washes the pride out of her stance. 

Then her eyes land on Vi’s, and she blinks as if she forgot she was even here. With a slight shake of her head, she starts to take her cloak off, and it falls to the ground. The gold of her Enforcer’s uniform gleams in the light.

“Not wearing your special commander’s cloak?” Vi cocks an eyebrow at her. “What’s a villain without her cape?”

Caitlyn lets a beat of silence pass before turning her gaze away, down to one of the empty bottles lying on the floor. A furrow appears between her eyebrows. “I needed to be inconspicuous,” she mutters. Then, in a voice so soft Vi almost doesn’t hear, she adds, “I didn’t ask for it. Ambessa had it made.” 

Vi huffs humorlessly. “Doesn’t matter. You’re the one who wears it.” 

Caitlyn looks back at her, and Vi takes the moment to truly take her in. Her hair’s grown longer, crawling just past her shoulders. An exhaustion lingers in her eyes, and Vi wants to snort. Long nights running martial law on the scum of Piltover? she thinks, but she decides it’s not worth the fight to say it aloud.

Caitlyn’s own eyes rove over Vi, and her brows furrow again as she takes in all the changes. “Your new uniform isn’t much to look at, either.” 

“At least mine isn’t sweeping the floors for war-obsessed tyrants.” 

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow into blue knives, and Vi meets them with the same fervor. But finally, after what feels like hours of staring each other down, Caitlyn sighs in irritation. “Where do you keep your medical supplies?”

Vi keeps her eyes on Caitlyn as she juts her head towards the mirror cabinet above her sink. Caitlyn keeps her eyes locked on Vi for another moment, a cold wariness sizzling in them, before making her way over. She returns with the small box of supplies and places it on the floor. Vi watches as she dabs some alcohol onto a cotton pad, then begins to reach forward, her eyes aimed at something on her face. 

Vi swats her hand away and narrows her eyes. “I can handle myself, Commander.” 

A spark of rage bursts in Caitlyn’s pupils at the title, but her face remains frozen in her usual cold determination. She brings her hand forward again.

Maybe it’s Vi’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s the ache in her bones muddling up any remaining sense of reason she’s been holding on to. Or maybe it’s her body still accustoming to the shock of seeing Caitlyn again. But this time, for whatever reason, Vi doesn’t swat her hand away. 

Caitlyn blinks now, but again, so practiced in keeping her composure, the expression is only fleeting. Her fingers hover over Vi’s forehead, and Vi closes her eyes as she awaits the sting. After another second of hesitation, Caitlyn finally presses her hand against the cuts, and Vi hisses at the touch, trying not to curl away. 

“So,” Caitlyn says, and her voice yanks Vi’s focus onto something other than the pain. “This is what you’ve been up to? Getting yourself beat up at the bottom of a pit?” When she pulls her hand away, Vi meets coldly amused eyes.

Vi huffs in equally cold amusement. “What do you care?” Her head tilts daringly. “Jealous that other people have the balls to hit me with their fists instead of their gun?” 

This time, Caitlyn isn’t as good at hiding her emotions. Shock ripples through her face, and the blue of her eyes pales with regret. She’s frozen momentarily, and pride swells in Vi’s chest; she’s broken through, snapped something in her composure. Then Caitlyn turns her head and rummages through the box again. Her fingers fumble with the bandages, and Vi knows she’s just buying herself time, trying to pull herself together. 

Finally she emerges again, but Vi’s surprised to see the guilt is still apparent in the furrow of her eyebrows. She leans forward with the white bandage and presses it to Vi’s forehead, and through the padding, she can feel the heat of Caitlyn’s fingertips. She almost sighs. 

Caitlyn pulls back to check her work, but then her eyes drift to Vi’s abdomen. The guilt in her brows only deepens. “You’re bleeding.”

Vi looks down. Caitlyn’s right; there’s a tear in her bandages through which a shallow gash bleeds through, and suddenly Vi becomes aware of the stinging in her abdomen again. For some reason, the sight of it sets tears burning against her eyes. She can barely even remember who it came from, but it doesn't matter; it’s all pain in the end, anyway.

When she looks up to meet Caitlyn’s gaze, she realizes just how pathetic this moment is. Of all the times Caitlyn showed up, it was a night Vi had to lose. 

If Caitlyn spots the tears in her eyes, she doesn’t react. A moment of silence passes between them, burdened by the implications of their words, and then Caitlyn leans forward gingerly again. She takes a deep breath and touches her hand to the bandage around Vi’s chest, and when Vi doesn’t do anything, she releases the breath and begins to unravel it.

As she peels the bandage off, all Vi feels is a pervasive shame ringing through her lungs. She closes her eyes, if only to try to stop the tears threatening to spill. 

The bandage falls to the floor, and despite the pain in her abdomen, a pressure falls off Vi’s chest. Her breaths come easier now that she isn’t bound together, and she tilts her head back as she savors her ability to breathe. 

When she straightens her gaze, she’s surprised to find Caitlyn equipped, yet again. A handkerchief dangles from between her fingers, and in the light, Vi catches the Kiramman logo engraved into them. Her vision fizzes in rage, and she meets Caitlyn’s eyes, only to find her looking at Vi solemnly. 

“This is going to sting a little more,” Caitlyn says. 

Vi just huffs out a sigh and closes her eyes, trying to steel herself. Caitlyn puts a hand on her chest, keeping herself balanced, and then presses her other hand to the gash. 

Red bursts across Vi’s vision as a stinging erupts in her stomach. Against her will, new tears burn against her screwed eyes, and a cry pierces out of her chest. As Caitlyn’s cold hands continue cleaning, her mind bursts with images of the flashing lights of the pit, glaring down at her as she throws punch after punch. She can hear the roars of the crowd, booing her with every missed hit. But, most of all, she thinks she can see a pair of blue eyes watching her, glowing even brighter than anything around her. 

The tears start slipping out. 

Then she feels a hand on her face, and she opens her eyes to find Caitlyn looking at her, her eyes hardened in concern. With a start, Vi realizes the stinging has dimmed, just a little; when she looks down at the gash across her abdomen, she’s met with a soft white bandage. 

She brings her eyes back to Caitlyn, whose concern hasn’t relented from her eyes. She searches Vi’s face, soaking in all the pain on her face. Her hand brushes over Vi’s shoulder, coated in thick black paint, and Vi watches as she pulls her fingers away gently. A slight black smudge stares back at Caitlyn. 

Caitlyn looks at it, then meets Vi’s gaze again. They stare at each other for a beat of silence, the weight of unspoken words pressing on both their shoulders. 

Then Caitlyn reaches out again, more hesitantly this time, and brushes her hand against Vi’s chest. Her fingers linger over a smaller gash, one still healing from nights ago. Guilt pulses in her eyes.

When Vi doesn’t react, doesn’t shove her hand away, something hopeful sparks in Caitlyn’s pupils. She blinks, then drags her fingers further down, her touch achingly slow against Vi’s breast. With each inch she dares, her eyes start to feel more and more like a challenge. But Vi doesn’t move her gaze - in fact, only focuses harder on Caitlyn’s eyes. 

It’s another match, and this is one Vi refuses to lose. 

Caitlyn’s fingers finally linger over Vi’s waist. A final test. And when Vi doesn’t take her gaze off Caitlyn’s - when she merely throws a raised eyebrow at her - Caitlyn’s hands grip the back of her neck and she surges forward. 

Vi’s ready, though. As soon as Caitlyn’s mouth crashes into hers, desperate and guilty, her hands grab for Caitlyn’s waist. She opens her legs a little further, tugs Caitlyn closer, and Caitlyn follows. She wraps her arms around Vi’s shoulders and pins one knee against her side, while the other stays planted on the floor. She’s on the barrier between Vi’s bed and the rest of her apartment. 

But Vi won’t have her straddling that barrier. Vi pulls herself further onto the bed, just a few inches from her wall. If Caitlyn really wants her, she’ll follow. 

And she does. Caitlyn brings the other leg forward to straddle the other side of Vi’s waist, and now her full weight is on Vi’s lap. Vi grips at Caitlyn’s jacket, yanks her closer, and Caitlyn’s mouth opens wider, her tongue licking desperately at Vi’s. 

Vi keeps one arm locked around her waist while the other presses down the side of Caitlyn’s leg, and with each inch further, Caitlyn’s breathing gets deeper. Vi digs her fingers into her thigh, and a strangled sigh escapes her. The hands on Vi’s shoulders start drifting around, one now gripping Vi’s neck and the other in her hair, and with each tug of her fingers, heat licks at Vi’s stomach. 

Vi hooks her fingers over the buckle of Caitlyn’s pants. She fumbles with it, but no matter how hard she tries to unbutton it, her pants can’t seem to come undone. Finally Caitlyn has enough; she pulls herself away from Vi and starts tugging it off herself, and in the meantime, Vi pushes away from the wall so that she’s parallel to the rest of her bed.

Vi watches as the paleness of her legs start peeking through, and she curls her lips in disgusted amusement. What is she even doing, fooling around with Caitlyn like this? There’s no good way tonight could end. 

Maybe this is her way of letting go of Caitlyn. She’s not the girl with the sweet, slow smile in her drunken hallucinations; she’s not the girl in the frilly officer’s uniform she met that first night in the prison. She’s a commander now, someone who’s learned to aim that power in her hands as easily as she knows how to shoot.

Maybe tonight will give her a reason to give up her hope in the old Caitlyn. After all, everyone in Vi’s life has changed; she doesn’t know why she ever thought Caitlyn wouldn’t.

Vi leans back on her hands as she watches her. “Do your Enforcer friends know you’re fraternizing with the enemy?” she crows. “I don’t think sleeping with an illegal pitfighter is considered very commander-ly of you.” Then Vi scoffs. “With my luck, you’re going to arrest me after this for aggravated assault of an officer.”

Caitlyn glances at her with an almost comical look of irritation on her face. At one point, maybe this would’ve made Vi laugh, but now it only makes her heart feel heavy in her chest. This moment doesn’t feel real; it feels like she’s getting a glimpse into some alternate universe, where maybe her attempts at being annoying might have come across as more lighthearted plays of flirtation. But instead, in this universe, in this moment, their existences are in complete opposition of each other. Two girls who’ve lost themselves. 

“I came alone,” Caitlyn says as she tugs her other leg out of her pants. “I didn’t want anyone else getting involved with me tonight. It would’ve been too risky.” 

Caitlyn finally throws the pants to the floor, and they fall to the wood with a soft thud. Before Vi can say anything more, Caitlyn crawls onto Vi and straddles her hips, then comes to meet her lips again. Her hands pull at Vi’s neck as she deepens the kiss, and a new wave of desire crashes over Vi when she lets go of a slight moan. Her fingers dig into Caitlyn’s waist, push her down into her, and her desire flames when she feels Caitlyn rocking against her. Vi drags her lips over Caitlyn’s jaw, into the crook of her neck. She runs her hands over Caitlyn’s thighs again, now bare and warm in her grip, and Caitlyn shivers under her touch. 

Vi brings her lips higher again, back into the corner of Caitlyn’s jaw, and Caitlyn stretches her neck a little further. Vi presses her nose against the side of Caitlyn’s hair, then nips at Caitlyn’s ear, and she flinches slightly. 

Vi grits her teeth. “Why are you really here, Commander?”

Caitlyn doesn’t answer immediately. Vi brings her lips down Caitlyn’s neck again, then to the other side. It’s only when Vi stops to meet her eyes that Caitlyn sighs in irritation. “I think you already know,” she mutters.

Vi scoffs and brings her lips back to Caitlyn’s neck, and Caitlyn sighs again, this time in relief.

Vi wants to rip that relief from her throat. She doesn’t deserve it.

“Jinx is gone, Caitlyn. No one’s heard from her.” Vi huffs in humorless amusement. “And this is coming from me.” 

Caitlyn doesn’t answer immediately. She lets Vi drag her lips against her neck, breathes through her touch. But Vi doesn’t want her to have this slow ease into the moment. So she bites against the skin in the crook of Caitlyn’s neck, sinking her teeth further than she really should, and Caitlyn sucks in a breath in surprise. 

“Just because no one’s heard from her doesn’t mean she’s gone.” Caitlyn’s voice burns against Vi’s ears, so low it’s almost a growl, and Vi’s vision turns red. There she goes again, letting her arrogance blind her. “The opposite, actually. She’s a symbol down here now.” Then Caitlyn rears her head back and looks down at Vi. An aggravating cockiness hardens in her eyes. “Or have you been too busy letting people stab you in the stomach to notice?”

Caitlyn’s face blurs as Vi’s rage surges through her. She grabs Caitlyn’s bottom lip between her teeth and bites down. Even when Caitlyn hisses, she doesn’t let go immediately; only when she speaks again does she release her. “You don’t get to mock me,” Vi growls against her lips. “At least I’m getting hit by trained fighters. Are you still trying to fight innocent kids?”

Caitlyn’s brows furrow, and her eyes shine in disgusted shock at Vi’s words. Good, Vi thinks. At least she feels some sort of remorse.

 Vi leans forward and bites at the fabric of Caitlyn’s uniform collar. With a tug, she rips the fabric, and something inside Vi’s chest unfurls with pride at the sound. She brushes her lips against Caitlyn’s unprotected throat now, and at her touch, Caitlyn clutches at Vi’s bare back.

“What brought you to the ring, anyway?” Vi asks into her skin. “Didn’t think filthy trencher entertainment was high-end enough for Topside’s favorite commander.” 

Caitlyn pushes forward to kiss Vi again, and this time she comes in with something even hungrier, more desperate. She forces Vi’s head to tilt to the side as she takes her turn to drag her lips over Vi’s neck, and Vi’s own breath hitches. But her skin starts to burn at the touch; she gets the sense that this is Caitlyn’s way of warning her. 

Caitlyn forces Vi’s chin to tilt up as she drags her lips lower, now just above Vi’s heart. Vi’s hold on Caitlyn tightens, tethering herself for what’s about to come next. 

Then Caitlyn straightens and meets Vi’s eyes. Vi can’t stand the cold remorse in her irises; she wants to force her back to her neck just to stop looking at it. “You won’t like the answer,” she says grimly. 

Vi tugs at Caitlyn’s thighs, forces her closer. “Try me.” 

Vi’s surprised to see the genuine anxiety in Caitlyn’s eyes. But when she takes in the adamance in Vi’s, she sighs. She leans forward to kiss Vi again, and this is more gentle, more elusive, like she’s trying to seal something before letting it go.

“A figure was spotted leaving one of these fights the other night.” Caitlyn pulls back to meet Vi’s gaze again, and now a genuine guilt shines in them, like she’s about to regret the next words out of her mouth. “A girl with long blue hair.”

Caitlyn’s face blurs into a mix of blue and gray as rage overwhelms Vi’s senses. Her fingers reflexively turn towards a fist, and it’s only when Caitlyn lets out a whimper that Vi realizes how hard she’s gripping her thighs. 

Vi’s teeth grind against each other. Whatever Caitlyn thinks, whatever she’s heard, it had to be a false report. Jinx would know better than to even dare show her face anywhere - she’s Piltover’s most wanted now. She wouldn’t take a risk like that. And she would know better than to come anywhere near Vi, not after everything that happened at the sewers. She would know Vi wants nothing to do with her anymore. 

But still, despite it all, Vi can’t help the way her heart stutters. Only one thought screams through her mind: What if she needs help?

Vi’s vision blurs in red. With newfound adrenaline, she shoves Caitlyn over and pins her arms to the bed, and Caitlyn gasps in surprise underneath her. Vi straddles her waist and presses against her, makes sure that she can feel all of her weight on her hips. She digs her fingers underneath Caitlyn’s chin and forces her head to tilt up, and a blade of streetlight falls over her face. She catches Caitlyn’s gasp in her mouth. 

“What is it, Kiramman?” Vi growls against her lips. She pinches her teeth into her neck. “Does it get you off when you lie to me? Is that it?” 

“Vi,” Caitlyn wheezes, and Vi sits up to let her explain for herself. Caitlyn takes a few deep breaths, and Vi watches her chest rise and fall rapidly as she tries to catch her breath. The motion annoys her, so she rips open the buttons of her jacket. Her fingers tug aggressively at the buttons of the cotton blouse underneath, and she rips it off Caitlyn’s shoulders.

Finally she finds herself staring at Caitlyn’s bra. So pretty and lacy. It reeks of expensive. 

Vi digs a thumb under the wire and yanks. She almost smiles at the sight of the threads snapping. 

“I’m not lying,” Caitlyn breathes, and Vi looks up to meet her gaze. There’s genuinity in them, and another wave of rage floods through her. She throws Caitlyn’s clothes to the floor, then runs her bottom lip against Caitlyn’s neck and bites her shoulder, hard. Caitlyn whimpers, shivering in Vi’s hands. 

She has to be lying. Jinx doesn’t get caught; if she does, it’s because she orchestrated it. And showing up to an illegal pit fight hardly seems like her way of making an entrance.

But would Caitlyn be down here if she didn’t trust her sources? 

Vi’s vision narrows, and she comes back to leave another bite against her shoulder. “You’re a bitch,” she seethes. A new wave of desperation washes over her, and tears start burning against her. She tightens her eyes, and when she speaks again, it turns into a whisper. “Do you know that? All you do is fuck me over.”

She flattens herself against Caitlyn, brings her hands to hover between her legs, and a slickness coats her fingers as she starts tugging at her underwear. Caitlyn’s back arches at her touch and her arms tighten around Vi’s shoulders. 

Through the blurriness in Vi’s eyes, she catches the blue of Caitlyn’s again. An ache erupts in her chest at the sight of her own tears, fat and round at the corners of her eyes. Vi gets the underwear to start sliding down her thighs, but before Vi can go further, Caitlyn brushes a thumb against Vi’s lip. The touch is gentle, like a promise before she’s about to leave for war. Like an ending. 

She breathes out a dying breath. “I know.” 

~~~

Vi’s not sure how long she and Caitlyn have been lying here, on Vi’s sorry excuse of a bed, passing this bottle back and forth between them. All she knows is that no matter how many sips she takes, the burn will never be harsh enough to let her forget the taste of Caitlyn on her tongue, soft and sweet, or the feel of her voice on her bare skin, pleading and devastated. 

They’re not even holding each other, which is what makes this moment so harsh. Vi feels like she and Caitlyn are packaged dolls, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

Then Caitlyn shifts, and her hair brushes Vi’s shoulder as she leans over her. “Is it alright if I take a shower?” she asks. 

Vi purses her lips at Caitlyn, then shrugs. “Sure.” She takes another sip from the bottle in her hands. Then she snorts and, under her breath, she adds, “But no amount of water is gonna clean out all that dirt on your hands.” 

Caitlyn starts to peel herself off the bed, but stops midway and rests her head against the wall. She stares blankly at the foot of the bed for a minute, and Vi watches her back expand with each breath she takes, pale and shivering. 

“If you’re gonna puke,” Vi says, “do it in the sink.” 

Caitlyn’s eyes snap back at her, almost surprised at her voice. She releases an irritated breath and continues climbing off the bed. “I’m not going to be sick,” she says. “You’re the one who finished most of the bottle.” 

“And I’m gonna finish the rest of it, too.” 

Caitlyn flashes her with a look of disgust, then gets to her feet, and then she’s standing in front of Vi. Her muscles flash green in the blades of light that seep through the window, and Vi’s eyebrow jumps in appreciation. 

Caitlyn holds her elbows to her body for a moment, and Vi watches her over the bottle against her lips. Her hair falls over her shoulders, messy and tangled, and a question lingers in her eyes. 

Vi raises a brow. “What?”

“Can you… come with me?”

Vi huffs in amusement. “What, you don’t know how to take a shower? Scared of some bug jumping out at you from the drain?”

“No,” Caitlyn says. “I just…” Her eyes flash in the light, and she sighs. But no other explanation comes out. 

Vi watches her for a moment. She’s not sure why, but watching her in this light, looking so frail and confused, so outside of her own body, makes her chest ache with pity.

Vi shouldn’t give in. Caitlyn doesn’t deserve the comfort. 

And yet, because she’s just as pitiful, she sighs and throws her legs over the bed.

It takes a moment for the floor beneath her feet to stop tilting, but when Caitlyn sees her sit upright, surprise flashes in her eyes. Vi tries to push herself into a standing position, but the world’s still tilting, so she cocks her head at Caitlyn and holds a hand out. “You gonna help me out, Cupcake?”

Caitlyn blinks at her, then pulls on Vi’s hand. For a brief second, the walls tilt backwards as Vi’s tugged forward, and then something crashes against her body. She blinks to clear her vision, and she realizes she’s leaning on Caitlyn, her chin fallen against her right shoulder. 

Caitlyn huffs, and a pressure builds on either side of Vi’s shoulders. Then she’s staring upright at Caitlyn’s, whose eyes are narrowed in irritation and something that almost looks like concern.

“Sober as ever,” Caitlyn mutters sarcastically. Her gaze drifts down, and Vi follows it to the bottle in her hand, which, by some miracle, is still in her hand. Caitlyn reaches for it, but Vi yanks it out of her way, and then their gazes meet again. 

Caitlyn’s lip curls in disgusted confusion. “You’re going to drink it in the shower?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Vi says, then pushes herself off Caitlyn. She’s able to stand perfectly fine without her. 

Caitlyn’s brows furrow, and then she looks around the room, eyes all the bottles in it as if really noticing them for the first time. When her gaze turns back to Vi, the concern in them blooms full-force, and rage curls in Vi’s nerves. 

“Seems like punching yourself blind isn’t the only thing keeping you busy,” Caitlyn says, but her voice lacks any fire. Her head tilts and then, to Vi’s surprise, she reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from her face.

Vi swipes her hand away. “I don’t need your pity.” 

Caitlyn’s eyes flinch, and for some reason, seeing the shock ripple through her body, Vi’s heart tumbles. She hesitates, then glances at her bottle. Then she huffs a sigh and throws it on her bed. It’s empty anyway. 

Her eyes trail over the floor now, too, catching on the bottles and papers and stains, over the pile of clothes, both hers and Caitlyn’s, to the cloak lying like a dead body on her floor. Then she meets Caitlyn’s eyes and sighs in disgust. “We all need to deal with our mistakes somehow.” Vi shrugs. “You grieve by putting on a disguise. I grieve by drinking.” 

Caitlyn’s eyebrows furrow, and she looks down at her cloak, too. Her eyes shut at the sight, and another wave of pity washes over Vi, so she takes this chance to pull her towards the bathroom. 

Vi’s shower is small, just barely a big enough square for even herself, but they manage to fit, somehow. As they get accustomed to this new tight space, their chests breathing against each other, their arms brushing, they meet each other’s gazes, and something about this moment feels almost comical. 

Caitlyn Kiramman, leader of House Kiramman, beloved commander of Piltover’s forces, standing in a dingy shower in front of a trencher. How low she’s buried herself. 

“Why are you laughing?” Caitlyn asks. 

Vi grins and leans back against the wall. She looks Caitlyn up and down, and all she can think about is how unnatural she looks here, with the flickering light barely processing over her features and the scum of her walls a stark contrast to the pureness of Caitlyn’s body, devoid of scars and bruises beyond the ones Vi left on her. 

“You look fucking ridiculous here,” Vi snorts, and she can’t stop the torrent of giggles bubbling out of her. 

Caitlyn doesn’t laugh. The pity in her eyes has somehow managed to grow wider. 

And that pulls the plug on any further laughter. Vi’s eyes narrow at Caitlyn, and she leans forward again, making sure she can feel the sting of Vi’s eyes on her own. “Why are we just standing here, Kiramman?” 

This seems to bring Caitlyn out of her stupor. Her eyes find the handle of the shower, and she flicks it up. The scene slows down as Vi hears the water racketing through the pipes, sees it bubble at the top of the showerhead, watches it glitter as it comes down. 

When it hits Caitlyn’s back, she gasps and lurches away, right into Vi. Vi can feel her shivering as she snaps her arm out again to play with the handle. Through clacking teeth, she hisses, “Why is it so cold?”

“You think hot water is free?” 

Caitlyn whips her gaze to Vi, then turns it back around to the handle. She keeps trying to twist it, but Vi knows there won’t be a change. Caitlyn eventually gives up and turns around, and, with a start, Vi realizes just how close they are. She can feel her stomach pressed against hers, her thigh quivering between her own, trembling as the water soaks her back. 

For some reason, a pang of guilt strikes Vi’s chest. She hesitates, then draws her arms around Caitlyn’s waist. 

Caitlyn looks down at her embrace, then meets Vi’s gaze. Something like remorse shines in her eyes, and Vi tilts her head curiously. After a beat of silence, her eyes harden decidedly, and she steps backwards into the water. As the cold water spills over her, her hair flattens over her face in thick blue ropes and she grits her teeth. But even through the pain of the water, a determination shines in her eyes. 

Vi blinks at her, and a new remorse swells in her chest, watching her shiver.

Caitlyn wasn’t meant for this life. She wasn’t meant for the harshness of the Undercity.

Vi steps forward again, brings her arms out, and her teeth grit as a torrent of cold water hits them. But she persists and finds herself close to Caitlyn again, holding her around the waist. Caitlyn’s still getting most of the hits, but some water bounces off her and coats the front of Vi’s body, too, and Vi’s bangs become heavy against her face. The sting in her abdomen bursts at the chill, along with some of the other cuts on her face and body, and her eyes screw shut at the pain.

They stand there for a moment, shaking in each other’s embrace. But eventually the cold begins to feel like secondhand nature, and the stinging in Vi’s stomach eases. Caitlyn’s eyes drag over her body, and Vi follows her gaze. The paint on her shoulders ribbons down in rivulets of gray water, and the blood from her wounds slither down in a light pink. The colors mix together as they swirl into the drain. Watching them slip away, for a brief moment, Vi feels new. She feels unburdened.

Caitlyn brings her gaze up again. She searches for something in Vi’s eyes, and a tremble appears in her chin. A hand presses against the side of Vi���s face, and it's cold and slick, but Vi leans into it anyway. Caitlyn’s fingers brush against the cuts on the side of her face, and it stings when she touches them, but Vi doesn’t move her hand. She just takes it.

She needs the reminder of how much Caitlyn can hurt.

Caitlyn brings her gaze back to Vi’s shoulders, then starts running her hands in circles against them a few times. The water turns a deeper gray color, and Vi watches it fall off her body. 

But when Caitlyn removes her hands to look at her progress, there's still a light gray overcast on Vi’s shoulders. 

Caitlyn sighs, then brings her gaze to Vi’s abdomen. She brushes a hand over the wound, then looks up at Vi again, her eyes warily pleading. When Vi doesn’t do anything, Caitlyn gently pries the bandage off. She throws it to the side of the bathroom, and now the wound glares back at them both. 

It’s not so bad. It’s shallow, which means it should heal soon enough. But Cait’s gaze lingers over it anyway, and her brows furrow. 

She looks up again and searches the bandages on Vi’s face. Vi knows she should take those off, too, but she can’t bring herself to care. She just wants Caitlyn to watch her, to see all the scars on her body. 

When Caitlyn speaks again, her voice is reedy, chipped by the sound of the water pouring over them. “Did I do this?”

Vi wants to laugh in Caitlyn’s face and say yes, actually, it’s all her fault. But as she looks up into Caitlyn’s eyes, the blue of them now gray in the flickering light, Vi decides that she doesn’t want to give her all the credit. That would be handing her too much power.

“No,” Vi decides, “not all of it.” She presses herself against the wall again as her mind flashes with fractured images: blood dripping down a little girl’s ashened nose; raging violet eyes, piercing her from behind the flicker of candles on an elaborate dining table; broken breaths escaping a broken girl as she choked at Vi’s hand.

“Most of it was me.” Vi’s gaze slips to the bandage on the floor. “Maybe all of it was me.”

And then: a child’s amber eyes, looking up at her in fear.

A scowl yanks on Vi’s face, and she snaps her eyes back to Caitlyn. “But you played your part, too.”

Cait cowers at Vi’s gaze, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. When she opens her eyes again, there's a slight red in them. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, but it comes out like a barely contained sob. Her bottom lip trembles, and Vi’s heart drops at the sight. But that doesn’t make any sense, because isn't this exactly what she’s been hoping for? Caitlyn, begging her for forgiveness? Caitlyn, facing the mistakes she made? 

But the more she looks into her eyes, the more Vi’s chest churns with rage, and angry tears shove against her eyes. Sure, Caitlyn’s crying now about how much of an evil person she’s become - but when she leaves, she’ll be clean and proper again, and she’ll go right back to unraveling the world around her until she fulfills whatever fucked up delusions of justice she has. 

Vi pushes forward, her anger licking at her heart, and she means to push Cait into the opposite wall, but her movements are sluggish and she just ends up in Caitlyn's arms, both of them back in the cold water pouring down on them. She narrows her eyes at Caitlyn, then buries her head into her shoulder. “You should be sorry,” she mutters. “You’re a fucking asshole. You fucked us both over. You fucked the entire Undercity over.” 

Caitlyn straightens Vi, and now the tears in her eyes look angrier as she scowls. “You think I don’t know that?” she seethes. “Every decision I’ve made has been worse than the last.” 

Vi laughs, because she looks fucking ridiculous. What is a councilor’s daughter even doing in her fucking shower? She needs her to just shut up right now. Vi tugs Caitlyn again, brings them both back to the wall, then forces her head to tilt as she drags her lips against her neck. 

Her mouth comes off wet and cold. 

Vi brings an arm around Caitlyn’s waist again and pulls her closer, so close she can feel Caitlyn’s stomach rising with each breath she takes, so close that she can feel her thigh quivering between her legs. “I bet you feel so fucking high and mighty up there,” Vi mutters against her. “I bet you love seeing filthy trencher animals suffer down here all because you can’t seem to just let go of some grudge on a teenage girl.” 

“She killed my mother,” Caitlyn says into Vi’s hair, but her words barely have any fire. She sounds tired, like she’s not sure if she even feels the same conviction. A wick with barely any length left. 

“And your Enforcers killed both of our parents.” Vi tilts her head and meets Caitlyn’s eyes, and laughter bubbles out of her. “You look fucking stupid.”

Caitlyn heaves out a desperate sigh, then leans forward. Her mouth drags down Vi’s throat, down her chest, and one hand tugs at Vi’s waist. Vi’s heart cries out at the touch, and the sound that crawls out of her throat sounds more like a sob than a moan.

A new revolting desire overwhelms Vi, and she pushes off the wall and back into the water. She meets Caitlyn’s mouth with a new fervor, and Caitlyn’s hands tighten around her waist, her nails gripping at her thighs, desperation hot on her fingertips. Her tongue on Vi’s is the warmest thing in this shower right now, which is just so fucking ironic, because Caitlyn is the coldest thing to ever happen to her. Vi’s hands travel up into her hair, grip the back of her neck, and she opens her mouth wider to push Caitlyn in. 

Caitlyn pulls away suddenly, and Vi lurches at the momentum. Cait has to balance both of them, and when she holds Vi against the wall, her eyes burn with fear.

“I don’t know how to fix it,” she breathes.

Vi sneers at Caitlyn. God, she looks fucking ridiculous. “Is that why you came back with me? You thought I’d give you some sort of consolation? Tell you you’re just making silly mistakes that you can just erase? Is that what you want to hear?”

Caitlyn’s jaw locks, and the sight of it is so funny. Now she’s really angry. “I came back with you because you needed help,” she growls. “And I never needed consolation. I just need a reason to wake me up from whatever nightmares I’ve caused.” 

Vi giggles. “Great. You’re welcome for being that reason, then. What do I get now? A pat on the back? A ‘good girl’?”

“What do you want, Vi?” 

Vi just smiles up at her. Suddenly the walls around her are tilting again, and Caitlyn’s eyes are fuzzy blue. Funny - they look almost like Powder’s hair. “Nothing,” Vi says. “Whatever I wanted, it’s all gone. All that’s left is for me to rot a-fucking-way.” She laughs. “Isn’t that what you fucking Topsiders want? Let us trenchers rot?”

Then the wall behind her begins to slip, until it doesn’t, and then she’s floating up. A pressure builds at her lower back, and when she opens her eyes, she finds herself staring at big blue eyes. They look like the moon on Topside. They look so beautiful. They look so fucking dangerous. 

“You’re drunk,” Caitlyn’s voice says. 

“Oh, don't be so modest. You’re tipsy, too.” Vi snorts. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t even still be here.” Then Vi smiles and puts her hands against Caitlyn’s face. Her thumbs pull at Cait’s bottom lip, and wow, Vi kind of wants to eat her alive. “You know, it’s kinda funny… those few days we spent together at your house, I was always hoping I could do this with you. Drunk fucking showers. But then you turned into a big fucking bitch. And so did I.”

“Vi.” The intensity of Caitlyn’s voice sends shrapnel through Vi’s heart, and she blinks up at her. The light suddenly feels too bright, like she’s staring right at the sun. “Do you need to sit down?”

“No, I don’t need to fucking sit down.” Vi shakes her head, basks in the coldness of the shower, then looks up to meet Caitlyn’s eyes. “I’m not a fucking child.”

“What do you need, then?”

Something burns against Vi’s eyes. She closes them, but the burning keeps going. 

“I just need to forget you.” 

~~~

Vi’s eyes burst open to something white and too bright, and as the blurriness clears, she realizes staring at the bottom of her sink. She's about to lift her head, but then her skin begins to tighten on her and her mouth fills with an acrid, metallic taste, and the next time she blinks, there’s vomit sprayed across the already unclean porcelain. The alcohol burns as it comes back up, and her anger burns and her sadness burns, and she hopes she gags so hard it rips her heart out of her chest. 

 Her fingers clutch at the sides of the sink reflexively as another wave of nausea overwhelms her. A piece of hair falls in front of her face, and she’s about to push it away when it pulls itself, and she feels a hand in her hair and a pressure on her back, but she has no idea how that’s even possible if both her hands are clutching the sink. Maybe she’s finally cracked; maybe she's starting to hallucinate phantom touches, too. 

She tries to breathe, and it momentarily works, so she brings her gaze up to the mirror. Her eyes are watering and the paint’s all washed off, and she feels so fucking naked, so ripped apart. Then something catches her eyes - another face, next to hers. Pale and angelic and intangible. The most beautiful blue eyes she’s ever laid her eyes on. 

Except this Cait looks different. Her hair’s longer, wavier, and her skin isn’t glowing with warmth; it’s pale, almost sickly. Instead of a smile, her eyes glint with concern and her lips are moving, but Vi can’t form the words in her head. She looks anxious. Vi gets the feeling it’s her fault she’s anxious, somehow. 

Vi’s chest cracks with a sob, and the sound echoes around her head. What isn’t her fault? Even with fake Caitlyn, she’s fucking it up somehow. 

“Please,” she begs, leaning towards the mirror. She needs to talk to Cait. She needs Caitlyn to hear her. “Please, Cait, stay. Just this once.” 

Then another wave of nausea shoves her over the sink again, and Caitlyn gets stuck in the reflection.

~~~

The first thing Vi’s aware of is that she feels not freezing for once. She groans and rolls over, trying to hold on to sleep’s consolation. But as the familiar pounding in her head beats louder, she opens her eyes. 

She rolls onto her back to stare at the ceiling, but when she does, she’s surprised to feel a weight on top of her. Something rough brushes against her bare chest, and her gaze snaps down.

The Kiramman flag snarls up at her. 

She stares at it for a moment. Then she throws it over her head and shuts her eyes closed.

[janecuppa]

Hello ladies and gents!

What you all have been waiting for has arrived! THE TEA.

I just have a few things I want to say first to bring understanding and clarification. I'm not a lawyer. I'm not going to try to sway you one way or another. I'm just going to lay it all out and let you decide. I feel what I share should be able to speak for itself. I may share some opinions and conclusions I've come to, but that is all. Opinions are not facts. It's just what I personally think.

I will admit the tea was served to me with a clear bias, so I will also have to pass it on with a bias.

I don't believe in trying to influence what you think and believe. Trying to coerce you into what I think, because it really doesn't matter. I think it should speak for itself. Those who influence and try to control what you think do so because they want to brainwash you into their way of thinking. I don't think that's right. Autonomy is so important to me. You should have your own freedom in that. So just take it in. Think it over. Decide for yourself.

Use some critical thinking.

Because I will say, when people get a little loud, defensive and aggressive and try to manipulate you and convince you of something, there is a reason. They're usually feeling threatened and insecure. And want to distract you and lead you away from what they don't want you to see. They will flow through different gears. Aggression and defensive to sometimes dismissive. Truth doesn't require such aggressive defending. Truths speak for themselves. Lies don't. Lies need weaving and defending.

So whenever someone has got defensive with me, I pause and bring a more critical eye to the situation. Why? Why are you defensive? What are you trying to deflect? Or if they get dismissive and almost seem to try to make you feel like an idiot for even considering it. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would you even give that a thought?". Theres something off there.

And every single time I've experienced that, I later realized it was because I was getting a little too close to comfort to seeing a truth. Many people can't handle the shame of being found out. So they try to intimidate. They get loud, defensive, or they'll try a different gear and attempt to dismiss it. So, just keep that in mind. If something is being talked about and causes a commotion, there is a reason why.

I keep in mind that people see and interact with the world with their own lense. People who bluster and bully, that says more about them. That reflects on them. It has nothing to do with me. It doesn't intimidate me. Go ahead. I'm not going to volly back. It's not worth it to me. I rather watch snow melt.

So go ahead, try to bully me. Riot and whoever else. You'll just be fighting with yourself. I didn't even bother reading what riot was posting because I really didn't care. I just immediately blocked her so I would stop being tagged and included with the infantile behavior. Do what you have to in order to cope. If it's throwing all the heinous words, threats and whatever else at me, go hard and have fun. And if some of the "NV stans" are paid like some think, then you go earn that coin! Put money in the bank! We all have bills to pay. I get it 🤣. But that still supports my point. If you're on a payroll, you're being told to go be loud and distractive for a reason.

Now. I went in search for answers. I'm snoopy and I want to understand. I ask questions. This entire thing has been bizarre and I think many could see that. It wasn't convincing. I knew there would be cracks and leaks if you searched hard enough. There's people out there that can't help themselves, regardless of administration and NDAs. There are many people around them. Some more consistently and some in passing. I knew there had to be a hotel worker, a sound guy, a friend of a friend, a waitress or something like that out there that would have seen or heard something. Some people can't help themselves if they think something is juicy. They'll tell their spouse, best friends, and maybe their parents. So I went in search for these people. I was determined and I did finally make some connections with seemingly valuable information. The one in particular proved themselves out when they told me that Henry and Natalie would have a public appearance soon. A few days later was the Enola Holmes premiere. The others had plausible stories that I wasn't seeing be talked about. I took it in under consideration, and that's where those stories still are filed. "Consideration and speculation." This is gossip. It's heresay. You have to remember that. It's not the gospel truth and should not be taken that way. Although I will say, personally speaking, that I'm lending it more weight based on the aggression I faced when I first started posting. Something in there is ruffling feathers and there is a reason.

I'll repeat. I'm not the only one who knows this stuff. If they were willing to tell me, they were willing to tell others. It has also been discussed in group chats. I myself have shared with selected people. This information is out there. I'm just the one who decided they were bored, realized they were sitting with all this gossip, and decided to put on the kettle. I knew what I was doing. I don't plan on outting my connections and sources. I don't think I could anyway if I wanted. They were careful. Thank you for your patience. I felt like I was back in university, sifting through textbooks and notebooks while I wrote an essay. That is what took time, trying to go back through conversations to make sure I had it right.

Now the fun begins! Remember, this is all alleged, gossip and heresay and not the gospel truth. I'm just repeating what all I've managed to find. Also, keep in mind I've been snooping and filing everything away for years. There is a lot to recall. I have had many many hours of conversations about this shit show. So even with all I share, I feel like you still will only get a summary. I feel like this could be written into a novel. Keep truck loads of salt nearby.

I've had multiple sources over the years. Some long term. Some have come and gone. I'm not going to keep mentioning them, but my making these multiple connections has enabled me to get all this gossip. It pays to be stubborn and snoopy.

This is probably going to come across as a story and in a way they are. It's gossip. It's multiple stories I've heard about them. I'm going to try to relay it how it was relayed to me.

Let's start from the beginning.

Henry was still under management with Dany. Dany liked to utilize PR relationships. They're common in Hollywood. They're a good way to generate traffic online and in the media with a celebrities name. People want to know the hottest gossip. Who is dating who. It helps keep their name being mentioned and relevant. In this type of business, they want to be relevant.

They wanted him to look like he upped his game from past girlfriends. They wanted to give him the look that he had a hot shot, big-time girlfriend in the industry. She wanted to take her career in a different direction, and she was only too happy to play along. She had been selected by Dany, and he agreed. There was a contract between them. It was originally only to last under a year. It was to be a business transaction.

Hollywood is all smoke and mirrors. They sell you what they want you to believe. It's a production. Even "real life" stuff. It's a business.

It's a cesspool if you ask me.

Social media is important to officials in Hollywood. Social media is another business tool to them. So they got her verified and a following to help her business, as stipulated in their contract. He was obligated to do that for her. It is also why he had to keep naming her publicly. It was in one of his contracts. He had to promote her. People thought it weird he kept naming her by her full name if she was a girlfriend, and I agree. It's fucking weird to do that for a girlfriend. But she wasn't his true girlfriend. She was a business associate and in my opinion, he told us that by calling her a "Partner". That was not a lie. She was a business partner. They were linked by a business contract.

They tried improving her image. They wanted her to be taken seriously. Her image reflected on him. The entire point was so he could have an elevated image. She was given a lot of guidance on how to act and portray herself. They put in a lot of effort. It was a complete scrub down and then rejuvenation.

She was terminated from Legendary. I was told because she was caught stealing their property. I was told it was a script. Which to me makes sense, because if you take that script to a competitor it can cause lots of problems and money lost. She also had a reputation as a bully in the workplace. She caused problems and was not easy to work with. Her ex coworkers have talked about her behavior online before. I've seen allegations on Reddit and IG from former coworkers against her.

Henry and her were in contract during this time. In short, the contract said he had to help her career. Her getting herself fired became his problem. He had already been in talks with Vertigo at this point for a possible producing partnership. He had been able to get her a sham title, articles and some contracted work. So she had worked for Vertigo but not as what they say. She hasn't had a permanent job since Legendary. But he did this to try to cover what happened and to help her become desirable to hire

Natalie also made many threats against Henry. She was not happy with the result of their contract. He was fulfilling his obligations, but she was not happy with the results. She expected more. She kept saying she would not leave until she was satisfied. She threatened that she would lie and tell stories against him.

This is after the era of Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. Amber Heard managed to be successful in ruining Johnny Depps life for a number of years with some lies. Obviously the two situations are slightly different but the core factors are the same. Lies managed to really cause upheaval in a man's life.

I can only speculate how Henry felt when he realized what he had to work with. He clearly took the threats seriously.

They renewed their contract many times. So there is a paper trail.

He tried to find a middle ground. But she couldn't be controlled. She stepped on so many peoples toes. She was so rude to people around them. He tried to keep conflicts to a minimum but she became too much. Staff members had enough, and they left. He tried to keep conflict to a minimum, but he couldn't manage. That's sad because staff members had to face bullying and abuse. In trying to appease her so she wouldn't go spread lies to the press and online, he couldn't also manage to keep a safe work environment. It's very sad and unfortunate. They were just working to get further in life like everyone else and shouldn't have had to be subjected to that. That's my opinion.

There has also been much conflict in regards to his families dislike of her. They don't hide that they don't like her and they don't invite her around. They don't include her, and there is always a distinct separation between them and her. There have been quite a few fights over this. I've heard she's embarrassed about the fact they don't hide it. TW3 premiere family pictures were to passify her.

They have so many reasons to not like her.

I mean it when I say she is unable to emotionally regulate herself. Each of my sources has had something to say about her behavior. It's a common theme.

She snaps. She loses control. She's impulsive. They've said it's like she loses her reason to her rage.

She screams. She yells. She throws things.

She has got physical in these episodes.

There is one such story I was told. There was witnesses. She must not have cared or she didn't think it through.

She was making demands of Henry. He was trying to explain what she wanted wouldn't work, she got angry, slapped him clear across his face, and then shoved him. They were separated. He went to get his gym gear immediately and left for the gym. She was escorted out. I was told there was a threat of getting the authorities involved that never amounted to anything. I'll talk more on this closer to the end. It's mostly opinion.

She has thrown things at him. She has yelled at and belittled him. She's gotten physical. And not just with him. Others have been involved in these episodes of hers.

His family was appalled, and everyone knew it. They wanted her gone, but there was a contract, and he was afraid she would follow through on her threats and he would have to deal with that disaster. My opinion, is he wanted to try to make it all work and he could get to the otherside. Help her career, keep her happy and he won't have to deal with his reputation being lied on and trying to fix it. I can guess he didn't want to live what Johnny Depp did. Johnny Depp was able to get his life back but for a big chunk of years his life was ruined.

She has also been unpleasant to his family and there's been fights over it. Word gets around. People know. You also just have to look at them and know not all is well there. But I have had people ask how he could let that happen and he hasn't just allowed it. There were big fights about her behavior towards them. With others around. A common theme is she doesn't mind fighting with an audience. My opinion and speculation is that perhaps she does that as a way to embarrass and manipulate him. To possibly try to exert dominance over him. Maybe she thought she had a higher chance of getting her way if she did it with an audience. But people talk, they gossip, and you have people like me who keep their nose to the ground, sniffing out stories like this that aren't really talked about. If you search hard enough, you will find a chink in the armor.

There's also been very long stretches of time he hasn't been physically available to her. She told her friends and family it was just normal long-distance relationship stuff. She's told her friends and family that it's a real relationship. He knows that. His business associates know that. My opinion is I don't think she could live with the shame of them knowing it was just supposed to be a business transaction. My opinion is she wanted them to believe she managed to bag Henry Cavill for herself. If my source is to be believed, she told them she slipped into his DMs, he took notice and responded positively.

But I was told it was because there was nothing coming up to promote during those stretches and he was off living his life and she was home living hers. I do know she had access to his Florida house at one point. Dany helped her with that. Dany had a lot of power and access to Henrys life. He allowed it. My opinion is he was naive and put too much trust in her. I know he changed all the codes, passwords and locks to everything in that house as a result.

I've already spoke on the Fuck Off post. It was a result of Natalie running to Dany upset at the backlash she was receiving. She was upset and felt it was getting in the way of what she wanted to achieve from this business deal. I suppose Dany felt the post was needed and concocted that post. My opinion is she tried to make it sound like he was some white knight protecting his damsel in distress lady love, and it came across disingenuous. Because it was. He hadn't been made a part of that plan. He was not happy, people knew, and Dany and him had a meeting over it. I don't know what was said in that meeting. I did ask lol. But I do know he was not happy with Dany, and it did play a part in her no longer being his manager. As I said, he had too much trust in her. Social media is a business tool, and his business associates have access to it. He had it so she could do with it what she felt was needed. He had given her that authorization.

Their contract had come to an end when filming in Turkey came around. Everything was supposed to have ended by then.

She suddenly showed up in Turkey using the last of her money while bringing her sick dog. She called crying to Henry about how she had no money and still hadn't managed to find a permanent job. She could no longer stay where she was, and to top it off, Meat was very sick, and she could not afford his vet care. I was told Henry had told her she could come and stay for a short visit and he would help her with Meats vet care. At that point, he didn't say anything about helping her with a job or finding a new home. It was, for now you can stay and I'll help with your dog. She was destitute at that point. This is the point where things went completely nuclear.

She caused many problems during the filming of this movie. She caused disturbances and scenes on set. There was a huge production hold up. She came on set and caused a huge scene with Henry. She was the perpetrator, the aggressor. Henry was taken aside by Jerry Bruckheimer himself and was given heck from him. That something like that could not occur again. They had a schedule they had to keep, too. They could not afford a hold-up like that again if it could be helped. So he needed to control her. She ended up being banned from Guy Ritchies films. This is just speculation on my part, but I do believe Alan Ritchson even alludes to the production holdup that resulted from her meltdown in an interview. I also speculate Guy Ritchie went out on a limb for Henry in that interview, where he made sure people understood Henry was a gentleman. It was his films these disturbances happened. He witnessed the meltdown from Natalie aimed at Henry. He knew and heard the aggression lobbied at him. My opinion is he wanted to say his piece and defend Henry from any possible rumors that stemmed from that. I also believe Henry wasn't expecting it. You can see in the interview from his reaction. He went to bat for Henry of his on volition.

She was not even allowed anywhere near the filming sets in Tenerife. She had been served a legal notice about it.

The thing with Natalie is. Everyone knows and has talked about how fame hungry she is. She wants to be a celebrity. It is why she entered the contract to begin with and kept making threats so she could get her way and force him to help her make her way in stardom. In my opinion, she was ruthless. Scare Henry into compliance so she could ride his coat tails. But the thing is, she did succeed in a way. People did know of her association with him. She was publicly known as his girlfriend, just like she wanted. That means throughout the years of her association with Henry, she has been caught with her ass out, almost literally. There's been a few dalliances with different men. Can it be classified as cheating? Henry and her definitely had a weird thing going on. I wouldn't call it romantic. Their relationship was built on fear and was very toxic. But she has been seen out with men. Henry does know about it. He is not ignorant to it. Those around him know about it. That's how I know, but I've also seen some of the rumors through the years myself apart from my connections. Even after posting on here, I've had a few anons ask about the different stories of her out partying and being seen with men. If there's no romantic relationship between her and Henry and it's just the most toxic business relationship known to man EVER, then she can do that. She can have fun with men. But don't be mad if you get what you want, which is seen and recognized. People know who you are. And those people don't have NDAs to protect you. They can go to their friends and say, "I saw Henrys girlfriend drinking and grinding up on some guy who definitely was not Henry". You can't be mad if that gets out and paints you in a bad light. Exactly that happened, and people know about it. She's a party girl and that didn't stop during her association with him. She's been seen out.

Let's not be naive. They have slept together. Everyone is adults. Let's not be children about it. But...

What is embarrassing is what is being said about it.

He told people around him that he could not remember ever going unprotected and that it was only ever a moment of weakness. This is just what he apparently told people and what leaked out from that. I have seen it discussed very briefly in a few private chats, but it is also something my sources shared too. That is what he was saying. He couldn't remember ever going unprotected, and he is embarrassed at the mishap if that's the case.

She told him she was pregnant and he didn't believe her. I asked why he didn't believe her, and all I was told was he thought it was another manipulation story she was using to try to get more out of him. He figured he had always been careful as a rule, so he would be in the clear. She had been poised to tell the tabloids for money. She still hadn't managed to find a job in the industry, which at this point you have to ask why, she had very little money and she was pregnant. He was ignoring her. So she was going to sell the story. He got in contact with her and realized she was telling the truth. He gave her money to hush her up. They discussed the situation. They came to the decision they were going to co parent. At this point, he did believe he could have been the father. He had slept with her recently enough it was possible. I was told that meticulous planning went into this pregnancy situation. She wanted it to be used for clout. They did influence the timeline. People have caught on to that. They did want to throw people off. It was all part of the plan. They had a very tight schedule for everything. It was meticulous. And there had been a birth announcement originally planned.

He again went to help her with a career. He went back to trying to promote her. She now had a baby she had to help look after. She didn't even have to threaten his career this time lol. I was told he wanted the baby to be looked after and provided for by both. He didn't hide that from those around him. It was all very carefully put together and planned out. It was all very intentionally done. Even the things that throw people off, it was intentional.

South Korea was all about Natalie. I'm sure everyone knows what is said about them is known. They do know about the stories going around. They're not ignorant. They polished everything to help Natalie's image based on past criticism. She was pregnant then. And her weight loss? A result from wicked morning sickness. She had awful morning sickness at the beginning of her pregnancy. I remember being told she wouldn't eat because it made her sickness so much worse. I was told she was even harder to deal with then. It wasn't ozempic like people speculated. She was already pregnant then. SK was all about promoting her and a bit about their PR relationship to help bring attention. It was part of the plan.

They both got reprimanded for their performance in SK. There was some ignorance that landed them both in hot water. Her for her appearance and him for 'allowing' it and their PDA. They both were told they wouldn't be welcome anytime soon. Which is funny considering her IG post. It's like she didn't want that found out, so she told the public the opposite of what happened. That's my opinion and speculation. I was only told they both got in trouble, why, and what was said.

It is why the London premiere was very different. They both were reeling from the trouble. And she was told there would be no PDA and she got mad. She caused a scene beforehand. I also can only speculate but I do think she wanted people to begin to talk about a pregnancy then. Her choice of outfit, and the way she was posing and making sure the coat was pulled back. She knew it would emphasize the baby bump forming. That's my opinion. She wanted the rumor mill to start flowing then. Again, my opinion.

NYC. Guy Ritchie didn't want her around. She caused so many problems during MOUW and she was completely barred from the filming in Spain. I was told Jerry B also had a hand in that decision. So she would be unable to debut on the red carpet so they had to get creative. They arranged paparazzi to come. I was told they wanted it to look like they were being followed around and like they both were a big deal. It was staged. All of it. All part of the big plan.

The red carpet premiere in NYC. The choice to have no significant others for the actors was deliberate. To be fair and look uniform. Even the interview was pre-planned. He used it as an opportunity to promote her. That was the plan.

The Father's Day post was also part of the plan. It was all promotion. It was the plan. He would make the post, and then she would piggyback off it.

When I say it was meticulous, it was very meticulous. They also had to do things when he was around and had the time. Even if he wasn't filming, he had films he knew that were upcoming that would need work. He had meetings and trainings. He would still have to travel. So things had to be done when he could do it, such as pictures. Such as public sightings. All of their public sightings were part of it. The dinners. Everything. It was like they were trying to run a tight ship and work around a schedule, in my opinion. So keep that in mind when you wonder about timelines.

Everything went to shit when the baby was born. And there is a baby. Regardless of what some may try to push lol.

She would show up when he was at work and bring her baby. She was never invited. I was told in true Natalie fashion, it was disruptive. But people took notice of the baby. Rumors started. That they both heard. Rumors that the baby didn't really resemble him. She stopped showing up. But the damage had been done. His family had also been urging him to be smart and not just take her on her word, especially based on past occurrences with her. There had been quite a few discussions about that from the beginning.

This is where my information gets spotty, and you have to puzzle it together.

He did contest paternity, and I do know that the judge had to get involved. She was told that if she refused, the judge would then rule it was because she would know the answer to the paternity test and that would be the end of it. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Now this is where things get quiet.

But this is the reason why nothing further has been mentioned on the pregnancy or baby, regardless of him saying in that interview more would be coming. In that point of time a lot more had been planned to come.

They have been fighting it out in court.

He has since given her a legal correspondence that she had to leave his house and be gone by the time he returned home from work out of the country. She had also been told to leave him alone while he is at work.

She had been living at his residence but I was told seperate from him. They didn't get along, and I was told that was done so there would be minimum conflict and fighting between the two. He allowed her to stay since she had been pregnant and then had the baby there with no steady income of her own. I was told he felt it was his responsibility to help her get back on her feet.

He didn't buy that house for Natalie or because they were together. I asked lol. There was no commitment between them. My opinion is they only occasionally rolled in the hay together, and she ended up getting pregnant around one of the times. I was told he told people he bought the house for his family. He meant his parents, siblings and nephews and nieces to congregate. As well as preparing for the next stage of his life. He did tell people he wanted to settle down within the next few years, and have a family home in place for when he met someone and began that stage, it had nothing to do with Natalie. I double checked.

Natalie is gone. He sent that correspondence and I was told he wouldn't help her with paperwork anymore that would allow her to stay in the UK. She had to leave.

I was told he has no plans right now to ever talk about the baby.

I don't know the results of that paternity case. I asked lol. I was told gag order and I've seen speculation of the case being sealed.

In my opinion, no one will know the paternity for a long time. But based on puzzle pieces, of people that worked with him saying it didn't look like him and her subsequent disappearance whereas before she had no problem being around. The silence when they told the public more was coming. The fact he asked her to leave and she was told to leave him alone. I feel one can read between the lines. The way they act is apparent there are secrets.

My opinion is that the baby should be left alone. It did nothing to anyone. It's here because Natalie wanted it here. I also can't say gender. I know people think it's a female. But the baby was always referred to as her baby or the baby when spoken of in my conversations. Natalie is a single mother. Let her deal with that. It can't be easy.

So while everything in regards to the baby has suddenly quieted down. I personally would hedge my bets on him not being the father based on other factors surrounding.

My opinion is we will never see that baby. She suddenly disappeared after those rumors around his work environment made their rounds. She hasn't proudly shown off her baby online even with the face hidden. She has completely retreated, which is not her usual way of doing things.

This wasn't because of privacy. Their plan feel apart and they didn't complete it.

That is the main course. The rest is just opinions and what I consider minor factors.

She has not had a steady job since her termination from Legendary. I mentioned earlier she got paid for her appearances with Henry and yall went weird with that one. I was not implying she was an escort or he was paying her for sex. Fucking hell everyone lol.

She was being compensated for her time. It was part of the job. There is nothing wrong with that. Plus, she needed the money. It was considered work for her, and so she should get paid.

I can't sit here and tell you she beat Henry. I only know of the one occurrence where she slapped him. If it's happened more times, it was behind closed doors with no witnesses. But she has tried to shove him and has thrown things at him on multiple occasions.

I've asked and never received a clear answer. But why no consequences for her acting violently. I don't know. I can only speculate. Maybe they felt it wouldn't go anywhere. Henry isn't exactly a small man. He's tall and broad. Maybe he felt he wouldn't be believed. Or because of his stature, he felt he could handle it. Again, I dont know. This is just speculation I've made about it.

My opinion is that it is so incredibly sad. No one should have to sit through that. I don't care if you're six foot whatever and 220 LBS of muscle. If someone is acting violently against you, you should be able to to say something. We have a long way to go in order for men being able and comfortable to speak up.

It's very easy to ask why you didn't just leave. You have to live through something similar yourself to understand. Abuse and toxic situations like this do something very weird to our brains. You can look it up. If it's happened long enough, the structure of our brains change. Different areas go in over drive and areas fire off that normally wouldn't. It changes our behavior. We go into some sort of survival mode.

People have noticed, myself included, that he has changed over the recent years. He looked like shit for one, and like he's been drained of life and left a husk. You can tell just by looking at him something is not right. His attitude also changed. He seemed more irritable. He didn't seem like himself any longer. Something was changing in him.

Maybe this was why.

I can't say for certain. Just based off some gossip I was told and piecing other parts together that would possibly explain things. I also had to do some amateur research on brains, abuse and the effects. I went in lol. When I say I wanted to understand, I really meant it. That means taking the time to research and try to put it together.

Again, I can't say for sure this is true. Only they can officially clarify and verify. These conclusions are my own based off my own snooping, digging, analyzing and researching. Take that in how you want.

I believe these two were a business transaction gone horribly wrong. I believe they had a very toxic situation. I believe it was very stupid. I also believe she was the main problem. She threatened him to make him help her climb the stardom ladder. She used and abused him.

He tried much too hard to appease her because he had feared her. In doing that, he allowed an unsafe work environment to crop up. He also did a huge disservice towards himself. In showing her that he would bend to her, taught her it would work. It created a vicious cycle. Of course, she is going to continue to use a weapon she knows works.

He was stomped all over.

They're both not innocent or saints. He allowed a lot of things to occur that never should have.

But I also think it's possible he was subject to things no one ever should be as well.

She must have put too much faith in the NDAs. If you treat people badly enough. And inspire enough dislike, I think you'll be hardpressed to stop their betrayal. Fear does not inspire loyalty.

These are my opinions and conclusions I have drawn. You're free to make your own. I just want to share what I have learned, which this is still a condensed summary but this is the main bulk of it.

I wanted a clearer picture of what was happening. It took time and effort, but I believe I succeeded. But you're free to disagree with me. I won't convince you otherwise if you do. I've already shared what I think and believe. That's enough for me.

Now, let's brace ourselves. We got a taste already of what to expect.

[zadig-fate]

Not trying to wade too deep into the ongoing Jance debate (I've already reblogged people who've made the same argument I would)

But for those who interpret Nace's line in the film as him being tired/annoyed with the shipping stuff, I will point out:

That moment was filmed pre-Stožice while they were setting up the stage.

They made that "there's an ongoing conspiracy theory and it's all true" video while backstage before the show... so probably a few days AFTER the exchange we saw in the film.

If they really were tired of the shipping at that point, I doubt they would have thrown fuel on the fire with that video. So, at least at that time, I think it's fair to assume they were more amused than annoyed by it.

How they feel about it NOW... that's a different question. But at least during that moment in the film, I really think they were joking.

[wereh0gz]

Sonic au where everything's the same except the werehog was feral during unleashed. Nothing else abt the plot changes bc at his core sonic is still himself BUT he's more Creature. Bigger, fluffier, can't talk, overall more animal-isms. Yeah

[padfootastic]

No but man child x fun sponge is a perfect way to describe that dynamic. It just really fucking gets to the core of the problem (women must parent the men, the men get to be carefree but the woman takes on all responsibility but man isn’t it annoying how lecturing these women get about doing work?) and like. God. I fucking hate this and how prevalent it is, both in fandom and official fucking media too.

ugh yesss this dynamic is exactly why i hated jily and lily for so so long. every single het ship seems to be pigeonholed into this for some reason? it’s like we’re incapable of writing it any other way and it!! bugs me!! so much!!!

like WHY is it that the women are always concerned about safety and responsibility and the kids and consequences but somehow the men aren’t??? why do the women automatically move into the kitchen or for cooking and the men are fucking around or going out to duel like,,,

i feel like it wouldn’t bother me so much if it was written like so with intention ykno? like, if it was a part of their character, for eg, like say, hermione trying to get her boys to finish their homework. makes sense, i can see where it’s coming from. but lily doing the same? ginny? luna? narcissa? alice fucking longbottom?? there has to be a point where u run out of fem characters who’ll fit that mold no?😭

and conversely, it makes no sense for the guys to be written the opposite way either like,,,if it’s wartime and james/sirius are more concerned about pranking someone idk and lily is shrieking in the background for them to take things seriously like just. where is this coming from.

[corvidcall]

i very rarely get a sense of satisfaction from completing tasks. ive heard people say this is an ADHD thing, but idk. personally i think i might just be bad at being alive

[kaiserkisser]

today is such a stark contrast to yesterday in how much i fucking hate today (vent/rant in tags bc i forgor to do it on my vent one)

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[fiona-fififi]

...