#kinda wish i had of kept her alive

[crownrots]

🐉 PRINCESS RHAELA TARGARYEN (75 AC - 108 AC) (template by @kanos)

↳ Rhaela Targaryen was born in 75 AC to Prince Aemon Targaryen and his wife, Jocelyn Baratheon. She is the younger twin sister of Princess Raenessa Targaryen, and youngest sibling to Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

Not so affectionally dubbed 'The Wild Targaryen' in her youth, Rhaela was always a wealth of energy and trouble. Her antics were felt far and wide, yet, all who had the fortune (or misfortune, to some) of being in her presence found her zest for life and revelry to be infectious.

In 87 AC, at the age of 12, she took the war dragon once ridden by her ancestor ,Daegon Targaryen, to mount. She and Rovni were inseparable, wreaking havoc in the Stormlands during her hosted stays by her mother's family. Though, a slow acting illness grounded her for the last years of her life, she and the dragon were remembered for their unshakable bond and shared, fierce spirit.

Scandals seemed to follow the wild and spirited woman wherever she went, one such occurring in 94 AC when she fell pregnant with her first and only child. The father was unknown to most, and kept secret by a few, though, many whispered that the aforementioned parent may have been her older sister's husband, Lord Corlys Velaryon; his name was just one whispered among many.

Motherhood did little to dampen the wild sprit of hers, the new mother determined for her daughter, Eraesella, to live just as freely and fearlessly as she had. As her illness worsened over the years, Rhaela and her young daughter were offered space in High Tide by her sister, Rhaenys, giving the young bastard a chance to grow up with a privilege few received.

By the start of of 106 AC, Rhaela and her young daughter had found themselves in King's Landing as guests of her cousin King Viserys I. He had appointed the best healers in all the realm to ensure that his "favorite cousins" comfort was prioritized.

In 108 AC, at the age of 33, The Wild Targaryen took her last flight upon her beloved dragon, flanked by her sisters and her fourteen year old daughter, mounted upon their own dragons.

Those closest to her and those lucky enough to have found themselves in her presence wept for days after her death. It is said by many that her dragon let loose a roar so sorrowful and powerful that it shook the very ground they stood upon as her funeral pyre was lit. The great dragon, Rovni, would not be seen for years after that, some believing he went into hiding to mourn the loss of yet another rider.

Rhaela Targaryen's untamable spirit lives on in those she touched so deeply, especially her daughter, Eraesella Storm.

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.”

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader

Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)

Word Count: 2,411

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.

Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.

There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.

Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.

When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.

The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.

----

Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.

A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.

“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”

There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.

“Say that again.”

Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.

“How may I be of use?”

The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.

“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”

His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.

“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”

Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.

“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.

The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.

Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.

“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”

“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.

Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”

Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.

It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.

“Y/n?”

“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.

Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.

“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”

“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”

“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”

“I know.” she responded almost immediately.

“No, y-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”

Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”

“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.

“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide.

“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”

“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”

“I loved you. I still do.”

Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.

“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.

Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.

“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”

A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.

“Al, I have to go.”

“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”

As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.

“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”

A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.

“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”

He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”

“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”

Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.

“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”

“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.

“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.

Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.

“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”

As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.

“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.

Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.

“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.

“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”

——

Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

[harryxmarvel]

Shatter my soul

Summary : Harry has been suffering from an addiction and y/n decides to take time for herself or based on this ask

Pairing: rockstarboyfried!Harry x reader!y/n

Warnings: Angst

A/n: this piece turned so much better than I hoped for.

My masterlist

When they decided to take time for themselves harry and y/n were in a rough spot with not only their 11 years long relationship but their entire life.

After being falsely accused and getting fired from her dream job, gave up any and all hope y/n had as she came home to her love only to find him passed out in the middle of the living room.

His cocaine addiction was getting out of hand so much that he almost died of overdose saved by y/n who decided to come home early for some reason.He swore to never touch that stuff again but there he was high off his mind as he mumbles incoherently lying on the floor a week later.

The next day after getting him sober y/n decided it was best for them to take a break to figure out themselves and their life as she can't stand by him hurting himself like that. Harry had his issues, stress eating him alive at every wake hour ,he decides it was better if he wasn't in his own mind. The cocaine he could easily get his hands on was just a massive perk for him.

It had been a month and half. Y/n got a job at a restaurant and works as a bartender at night. She moved back to her old appartment after their break up and had been doing well on her own. She missed harry a lot even though their good days were well past months she still loved him, still wanted to help him and show him that she was there for him no matter what. She just wished he was doing better too. After their first week of breakup harry had called her high as he mumbled how much he missed her and promised to be better she just hopes he kept his promise.

It was a month later when y/n was at her favourite arcade bar with her friends. The place was a little loud with drunk men drinking beers and shouting at the screens.

They were seated in a booth after a good round of beers and  fun. She was mindlessly talking with her friend klara when the bartender calls her name.

Y/n walks to the bar and the bartender points to the payphone at the corner of the room.

They still got payphones

Y/n thinks to herself as she brings the phone to her ears. The first thing she hears is a sob which sends her into alert. "Hello?" She questions and the person on the other line replies "Baby, it's me.." he sobs out making y/n quiet as he continues "I'm getting sober. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do but I'd do anything for you baby. Just want you back, want to love on you like you deserve" he says breathing hard as y/n finds her words.

"I'm so happy to hear that H. That's what I wanted for you." Y/n says a smile breaking on her face as she tries to calm him down but he doesn't he keeps crying which makes y/n a little scared because it would've been really hard for him to be doing this alone.

Y/n should've struck by him, isn't that what their relationship should have meant. She feels incredibly guilty for walking away when things got worse but she did it wishing for the best and maybe it kinda did work out in the end and now all she wanted was to be with him and show him how much she appreciates him doing this for her.

"I'm gonna be there okay? I'm so proud of you baby" y/n says ready to hang up the phone but harry breaths out before she could "No, no i....you can't....I want you to but" y/n cuts him off in worry "what's going on H?"

"I wrote you a letter"he says and the other end is quiet as he continues.

"I wrote it so I could get everything out. I think?" He sounded so unsure his voice raspier than usual. " It should be in your apartment" he adds and y/n says she would read it and come by his place before hanging up the phone.

She bids goodbye to her friends after explaining them about the situation and then waving her off with a concerned look on their face as y/n walks back to her apartment. She goes through all her mail and finds the one harry had sent. Her name and address on the envelope.

She opens it and it had two sheets folded inside it. She didn't know what to expect as she reads through it.

My love,

             Today has been particularly hard without you by my side. My manager has been pressing me for the next album but how could I think about anything but you. It had been 8 weeks since I last heard your voice and I never knew how much it filled my life untill I couldn't hear it anymore and I think maybe that's what made me want to give up the drugs even if it feels like I'm drowning. I'd do it for you.

I still remember the tears in your eyes when you told me about you ex and how mad it made me. I wanted to bury him alive for hurting you like that. I never wanted to infect any kind of pain in you. I swore I never would when I saw the lack of trust in your eyes.

It killed me to see the smile on your face slowly fading away because of me. I wanted to hold you close and tell you I'd be back. We'll get all of the good times we had together back because that was what you deserved. But I couldn't save myself not for me but for you because you are everything i have left. The only person who stood by me through it all and maybe that's what made me realise I was nothing without when you left.

I was always honest with you even when I was out of my mind i tried to explain what I was feeling. I know you blamed yourself that you couldn't help me but this was my own battle and you were the warrior in the front ready to kill anyone even though you didn't have to. You were always there for me and I'm really sorry if I wasn't baby. Because

 You deserve better than that.

You deserve someone who would be there for you.

You deserve someone who would stay true to their promises.

You deserve someone who would stay good for you.

You deserve better than me.

You deserve every happiness in this world.

She is at the end of the page her soul shattered with each word when a knock on the door pulls her out. She has a few tears falling down her cheeks. She wips them off before opening the door to find her close friend klara.

"Hey , what ar-" y/n is cut off as klara bursts "I need to tell you something"

"Oh okay, come on in" y/n opens the door wider to let her in but klara shakes her head as she continues "No, I just need to tell you this....i" she's breathless and y/n patiently waits for her to continue.

"I slept with harry" she says after a few deafening seconds which stretches to minutes after the words are out.

"It was stupid and I was drunk and it just happened. We were both out of our minds and we didn't know what was happening. I'm really sorry y/n. I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry"

Y/n is still as she listens to her ramble. All of y/n's friends hated harry something about him not treating her right while he was the total opposite.  She never knew why that was but to hear her bestfriend had slept with her boyfriend of years cut deep into her poor heart and the stabs just kept coming.

"It happened a few months ago and I couldn't stop myself from going back. I didn't mean for it to happen y/n you have to believe me" klara begs her eyes welled up with tears.

Y/n couldn't stop herself from thinking how much of a fool she was for thinking all those nail marks on his shoulder, love bites on his jaw and chest were from her when she knew it wasn't. The woman's perfumes he used to smell like made her realise it wasn't just Klara. And one thought kept haunting her mind as she stands on her doorway.

Had she really been that delusional ?

A/n: I think I just broke my own heart 😭. Who wants a part 2?

Read part 2 here

Check out my masterlist  if you are interested

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[semisolidmind]

What happens when they outlive angel? Since poppy was first created in the 50’s it seems like being preserved as toys has granted them longer lifespans if not technical immortality, so angel aging is going to become a problem sooner or later, and I’m kinda wondering what happens when the inevitable comes. I made myself sad thinking about this and now all of you will be too, suffer with me

(i was thinking about this as well, uuuugghhhh)

it's so so sad. what will the toys do without their one advocate, the one person who truly understands them and what they represent? when the one good home they've ever had is gone, they've got nowhere else to go.

so, they stay.

when y/n dies, the toys have a quiet burial for them in their backyard, under a big shady tree. they make a simple marker from rocks, and pick wildflowers nearby to lay on the grave. none of them speak. it was hard enough digging the grave, and unbearably difficult to lay their savior to rest.

the house is horribly quiet afterwards.

poppy is likely the strong one throughout all this. she's had the most experience saying goodbye to people she cares about (thanks to her longevity), and she attempts to maintain a sense of optimism about it all. they'll all be ok, she's sure of it. they'll find their way through this, like always. it's what y/n would have wanted. kissy withdraws into herself further, following poppy's lead and trying not to cry.

dogday is devastated. devastated beyond all measure. he was the one to discover y/n when they passed. they were so pale, he could feel their warmth leaving them. their face looked so peaceful, they looked like they had just fallen asleep. he knew it was coming, they were getting older, but—but it's still not fair. it doesn't feel real. it can't be, his angel can't be dead, nothing has ever kept them down before, they always get back up, why couldn't they get back up—

...he tries to stay calm.

he took on the duty of grave digging. he took on the heavy burden of laying his beloved angel into the makeshift coffin they were able to cobble together. he could barely keep it together when he did. he managed, but not without crying.

that night, he waits until the girls have gone to bed before he closes himself off in y/n's bedroom. in the privacy of the once-shared space, dogday allows the truly desperate, heaving sobs he's been keeping in to finally leave his chest. tears mat down the fur on his face as he cries. he shakily grasps y/n's jacket to himself, wishing that there was some way, any way, that they could come back to him. he knows humans aren't meant to live forever. but that doesn't stop him from wishing that y/n could achieve the tentative immortality that the toys have, if only so that they could stay with him.

dogday becomes somber after his angel dies. they were his source of hope, his reason for living. they saved his life in ways beyond just physical. they were the only reason he was alive at all. without them, he's...he's not sure if he wants to keep going.

but he must. he knows he has to. y/n would want him to take care of the others, they'd want him to protect and provide for them. so, without any other purpose...that's what he does.

the toys live in their savior's house for as long as they're able. it's just their luck that the house is never put up for sale, that it's just sort of...forgotten about. it becomes a "haunted house in the woods," feared and avoided. they're more than happy to become the vague, cryptic monsters in local legends if it means that they're left alone.

nobody will come by to check on y/n for a while, and the toys will have power and food (their water comes from a well hooked up to the house) for at least a little while longer. and after that, they'll manage on what they can find in the woods.

they live as peacefully as they can for as long as they can.

[mamawasatesttube]

the other thing abt tim&tam that fascinates me is like... she met him when he was at rock fucking bottom and clawing his way back up. and it's partly by virtue of how comics often are written but their romance reads a little rushed to me - she kisses him for saving her life, and that's that. she's into him now. she sees him and she realizes he's sad, he's hurting, he's a little freak, but how well does she actually know him? she trusts him with her life because he's saved it before, but does she know that he used to go to baseball games with his dad, or that he goes to car shows for a good time, or that he's struggled with the vigilante-civilian stuff for years? what does he know about her? (hell, what do we the reader get to know about her that's not related to tim or her dad?? not even her college major???)

and i know it being a romance that just ... happens + tam getting kinda shafted as "The Girl™" is kind of part and parcel of the comic book medium, that the romances are often rushed bc the focus is on the action and plot, but. i think leaning into that in this case as an in-universe phenomenon is fun. because tam idealizes tim for being her hero when she was in mortal danger, and because tim's never had a civilian friend be in the know before, and he's reveling in that novelty, because he doesn't have to lie to her... until he does anyway, because old habits are hard to break, and he still has that same mental dichotomy of "person he can respect/trust enough to work with as equals, versus person he needs to protect and therefore keep out of the loop" (see also: how he and frankly all the bats treated steph in the past).

and i think that actually makes their breakup so compelling. she was willing to look past all his flaws or just see them as exciting because he's a hero and he saved her and she's his confidante. he is in the fucking pits mental health wise and he has Not worked on figuring out how to deal with his worst habits. he's entrenched in the vigilante business and he's jumping from pitfall to pitfall. tim doesn't even think he did something wrong - he thinks keeping that lucius was alive from her was necessary even if it cost him her friendship. like, it sucks and he wishes it didn't have to be that way, but he doesn't think it was a mistake or the wrong choice. of course they fall apart. it's inevitable. if it hadn't been over faking her dad's death and not telling her it was fake, it would've been something.

anyways i just think them both having a slow burn from awkward exes/ex-friends into real actual friendship for the first time would be so good. like both of them actually getting to know each other in ways they didn't before. like, tim has to do enough character growth to get out of his mental health pit and work enough on his identity issues etc. to understand that he didn't have to shut her out. that will take him a hot minute. and i think tam realizing how little she actually knew him outside of being a hero is also just sooo juicy.

so it should take time. but after they get to the point of being able to have actual conversations again, i wanna see tim talking to her about things other than business. and tam actually getting to tell him about her interests. gimme them growing to care about each other for who they both are as people, not just because circumstances brought them together and then kept them there because she knew too much for tim to walk away.

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One Pt V

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing

A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.

You had never been more jealous.

While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.

As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".

You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."

Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.

Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.

As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.

"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."

Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."

Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.

Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.

Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.

The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.

You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.

In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.

"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.

She was protecting you, and look where that got her.

Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.

Ghostface.

Everywhere.

"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.

Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.

The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.

As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.

As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.

You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.

"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.

"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.

Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.

With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.

"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.

Your perfectly real scar.

You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.

"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.

It made you feel human again.

You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.

However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.

These were your people. Your family.

You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.

With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.

As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."

"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."

Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.

"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.

Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.

"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.

"Good call."

As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.

"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."

As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.

"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.

Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.

"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.

As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."

"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."

Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."

The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.

You're different from the person she is talking about.

She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.

"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.

She could never see you the same.

Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.

"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.

As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.

Or so you thought.

As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.

Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.

Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.

"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."

"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.

"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.

"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.

As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.

With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.

The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.

You couldn't help but think how hot it was.

"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.

His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.

They absolutely butchered him.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.

Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.

You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.

As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.

"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."

"Come on motherfucker!"

Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.

"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.

"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.

"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.

"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.

He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.

"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.

Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.

The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.

"Great job. Both of you."

"You?"

A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."

"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.

Ethan.

The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.

The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.

It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.

With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.

The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.

"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"

"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.

"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?

Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"

"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."

Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."

Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.

"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.

Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."

Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.

You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"

You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?

"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"

Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.

Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.

"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.

Oh shit.

"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.

Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.

"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.

"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"

The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.

Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.

"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.

Oh, he was fucked.

"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."

As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.

A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.

Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.

Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.

"Fuck 'em up."

As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.

That made you snap.

With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.

Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.

"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.

Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.

As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.

With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.

Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.

A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.

Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.

With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.

With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.

"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.

"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.

Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.

Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.

It was Tara.

Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.

"Now die a fucking virgin."

Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.

"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.

Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.

The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.

As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.

Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.

Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.

As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.

You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.

She chose the latter.

Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.

It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.

After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.

The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.

You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.

Now, the fun part.

As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.

"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.

A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.

"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."

It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.

The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.

"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.

As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.

Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.

As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.

She didn't entertain it for long.

"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.

"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.

"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.

Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.

"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.

“Yeah… of course…”

Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.

Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.

Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.

With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.

The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.

Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.

"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.

Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.

Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.

"We made it, Tara. We made it."

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega@thenextdawn @zhasmindoesntknow @faunusrubyrose @harleyspunchingbag @yourmamacom@rockwyn @androgynouscloudenemy@padf00ts-l0ver @wol-fica @captainbeat @sophiexoxo-lol@perfectartisanwerewolf @pedrosprincess @dark-hunter16 @daenerys713 @dksjskx @blazemaster4014 @l4venderia @marsyay78 @edearx0 @randomnessbecausewhynot @pixielovers2account @buba424 @niqmandu @karsonromanoff @spidey-beans 

[seireitonin]

Can you make Toby headcanons

I can’t believe I haven’t already done this?? He’s literally all I think about lately. Also sorry for the lack of posts life is busy. Anyway! (Some of this will be canon)

“Ticci” Toby Head Canons

Toby was in and out of the hospital all his life

CIPA will do that for you

He constantly had to lie about the bruises he got from his dad while he was in the hospital

He didn’t want to be separated from his sister in foster care

Toby got bullied and outcasted at school

But he also was a bully kinda

The violence he was experiencing at home made him violent at school

He would beat people who teased him bloody

He’s impulsive and cynical but also empathic

He would use his body as a shield against his father to protect his sister and mother

Purposely behaving bad so he would get it the worst, sparing his sister and mother

Slenderman was trying to get both Lyra and Toby to become proxies and Lyra had been experiencing the slender sickness and seeing Slenderman

So she purposely crashed the car so her and Toby would both die, but he was none the wiser

Only Lyra died and Toby has survivors guilt

Not only because he’s alive but because Lyra was a better person in his eyes

She took care of him, she was sweet, she was gentle

Toby was rough, standoff ish, and rude

Toby thinks he deserved to die, not her

Wishes he died instead of her

Slenderman only targeted Toby after that

The hallucinations getting stronger and worse

Him seeing his dead sister

Constantly feeling sick

Toby looked at all his neighbors with jealousy

Why did they get the perfect suburban life?

Why was he given a life of suffering?

Slenderman was breaking him down day after day

On top of all that the abuse didn’t stop

Slenderman was able to take his mind over easily with all that Toby was going through

Toby’s grief, anger, sadness, pain and suffering making him unable to fight off Slendermans influence

The night he killed his father he was under Slendermans control completely

Only snapping out of his trance for a few seconds before being taken over again

He didn’t really want to kill his father but his body wasn’t his

Luckily he was able to snap out of the trance before he hurt his mom

But he still burned the neighborhood down, ready to accept death

Then Slenderman took him in

When he was 19 he acted a bit like the teen he never got to be

Not super upbeat but he was more playful and free

Masky and Hoodie do care about him, just in a rough love kind of way because they didn’t want to see him die

Also he was so young, they know what it’s like to loose your life and mind to Slenderman at a fairly young age

So they trained him hard and kept reminding him that he’s disposable so be careful and not so reckless with his body

Toby’s not only good with hatchets but knives as well

Also good at hand to hand combat and dodging

Has infinite stamina and is really strong and fast

Dated Clockwork from ages 19-24

He died at 25 but was resurrected by Slenderman and became possessed fully (which is another reason why he’s so sickly pale)

Slenderman attempted to make him kill Clockwork, but luckily some of Toby was still in there and he was able to hold back from killing her

She was able to fight him off easily after that but couldn’t bring herself to kill him

But she doesn’t want to see him ever again

The one man she trusted tried to kill her and it was too much for her to handle

Toby was heartbroken for months and killed a lot of people, letting himself become a puppet for Slenderman completely

Toby came to the realization that his body was never his to own

His body belonged to the doctors when he was a kid to experiment on, the shield to protect his family, a puppet for Slenderman to use, even his Tourette’s controlled him sometimes

Toby is bi but leans towards women because women were kind to him all his life

Total horndog

He can be manipulative but honestly it’s not on purpose he’s just scared to loose people

“You shouldn’t leave. You’re all I have. My family is gone. Please. You’re the only thing I love.”

Very clingy with people he cares about

Especially because he knows he’s a lot to handle

His emotions can change very quickly

Since his mind has gotten used to Slendermans influence, his memories come back in full force

He vividly remembers everything that happened to him and will sometimes have breakdowns

The memories come at random times too

He’s full of himself and not insecure at all

Blunt, rude, will say what he wants whenever he wants with no filter but is nice to people he likes

Constantly has bloody and bruised knuckles

Smells like the woods/ outdoors and campfires

Made a promise to his sister when they were young to never be like his dad. So he’ll never hit a woman he loves

Belive she’s not meant to be loved. Everyone who’s loved him has either died or left one way or another

Wears neutral colors to blend in with the forest

Touched starved, due to not getting much gentle touch and affection in his life

Wants a normal life so bad but knows that will never happen

Wants to have kids. He wants to be the man his father never was

Hides his face gash with bandages and gauze when he goes out in public

He’s handsome and he knows it. He uses that charm to lure in/ manipulate his victims

Dark brown eyes and hair and pale pink lips

29 years old

Started dating Nina at 27

Toby is 6’0 flat

Very lanky but his back and arms are toned because of constant axe throwing and swinging

Toby is much more mature now that he’s 29 but can still joke around and stuff

Has scars all over his body not only from his father, but fighting since he was 17

He’s so full of himself and cocky especially when he’s manic

He’s an extremely jealous person and can be very possessive especially over the person he’s dating

He’s just scared to loose anyone

Hes violent as hell when it comes to killing

Very very messy because he’s impulsive and reckless and doesn’t care about getting hurt because he doesn’t feel it

Sometimes will target abusive men and will beat them to death with his fists while looking them in the eyes, smiling

Just because he was manipulated into killing at first doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it now

Because he really enjoys it

Especially when he’s angry or emotional

Still needs constant check ups and has to check for injuries on his body because he can’t feel them

Eats people on occasion. Since he chewed on his hands a lot he likes the taste of flesh

Likes fucking with his victims before he kills them sometimes. He learned that from Masky.

Has nightmares but doesn’t tell anyone about them

Doesn’t drink alcohol often because he really doesn’t wanna be like his dad

Midwestern emo

Looks like his mom. It makes him sad. He misses her.

When he’s by himself he wears grandpa sweaters and loose jeans

Nina is the only other person who can wear his clothes

Anyone else? No way.

Is close with EJ because of the constant medical checkups

Close with Jane too since Nina became friends with her

Actually can cook pretty well since he had to survive on his own a lot

His hair is mid neck and curly because he doesn’t bother to cut it

His beard is prickly and it started growing at 23

Has a bunch of piercings because he can’t feel pain (eyebrows, snakebites, tounge, septum, a bunch of ear ones) he also did it to match with Nina

His favorite food is ramen

His ADHD can make him upbeat and happy sometimes but it doesn’t last long

He likes to sit in the woods by himself sometimes and just enjoy his own company

He has quite the reputation working for Slenderman and all

Masky, Hoodie and Toby are called the triple threat

Hoodie handles ranged combat like guns. Masky is a hard hitting melee fighter, using crowbars, bats etc. Toby can do both by throwing hatches and using them in hand to hand combat. But he can also use his fists.

That’s all I got 4 now I’ll make a part 2 when I can remember more. Also this isn’t proof read sorry :3

[antis0cial23]

Heart and Lungs

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Reader is in a bad crash during a race that Lewis had to sit out

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury, kinda dark, no use of names, religious themes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world spun, just as her car did off the track. All confidence left her body with every roll of the car, thanking whatever angel that made the halo that kept her safe. her car crashing into a barrier with the noise of a thousand oceans, maybe a radio, rushing in her ears before nothing, the absence of everything. No sight, no sound, only a taste. A taste of blood settled deep in her bones. All she could do was accept it, and she did. Metallic and hot, sticky and wet. Everything came crashing down within seconds, but every roll of her car was years of her life. Blood. Red. Racing. The car. Crumpled, ruined. Expensive. She felt like she was on a cloud, light. Floating. Then the sun was shadowed. Dark. Cold. And for some reason, it hurt. Pain, sharp yet dull. Everywhere. Just like the dark it was all-encompassing. Final. Or was it?

            He watched from the sidelines as her car spun out, rolling like waves from the far seas. Fear. Heavy, strong. He prayed to whatever god existed or would listen that she would be ok. He heard the gasps around him at the final crash of metal against metal, ringing out in sick harmony. He heard the echoes of questions sent to her radio. Everything echoed. Loud, big. His world shattered in seconds. Crumbling, fading. His vision blurred with black, eyes honing in on her mangled car, mentally on his knees, begging for anyone to listen to his prayers. He was quiet. Silent, empty. He watched the med cars speed by, thinking he would give her his lungs so she could breathe, his heart to hers could beat, his health so she could simply be. Be safe. Be alive. Be well. He sat still, watching. Unmoving, broken inside. He watched as they got her from the car, unconscious, Still, unmoving. Her visor broken, red leaking from under her helmet. Vivid, vicious. Blood. Her upper body resting on a medic's leg, he wished it was him. He wanted to be the one there with her, telling her he had her. Hell, he’d rather it be him unconscious and bleeding rather than her. She would be safe if it was. But she wasn’t. She couldn’t be as blood was left in her wake. Like a sick path to find her, it trailed behind where she had been. She wasn’t dead, no. Not yet. Yet.

            Let her be alive, his prayers changed as he saw her body in a bed. He prayed that her heart was beating, her lungs breathing because if they weren’t, he’d give her his. He’d always have her even if she didn’t have him. If they hit rough waters, he’d be the one to give his life to keep her dry, safe, and alive. Alive. Breathing. Please be breathing. And she was. Heart monitor beeping rhythmically, just like the seas of torment his mind sailed. They used to be kings and queens, ruling the world. But like ancient limestone, it all came down within seconds. He saw the cuts on her cheekbones, her brows, her forehead from the shattered visor. Dried blood stained her beautiful skin red, angry. They tormented him just like the gods who never answered. Who sat and watched as her life was barely spared.  He cursed them and denounced each and every one. For if they were real, it would’ve been him. His lungs bruised, his heart damaged. Not hers, never hers. But gods were cruel. They took. Don’t take her from me. Her heart continued to beat; lungs continued to breathe. For now.

            So lord when I die, I want to live on the outskirts of heaven. She thought. For the first time in days. Wildflowers and honeybees line the dirt roads, that’s where I want to hang my wings. Welcome me from my gates of iron to yours of pearl. Streets of coal to yours of gold. Blue skies and dogwood trees. Her mind wandered, no sound penetrating her skull. Her serenity. Please welcome me to fields of hay, green grass full of shade from the light of you. She wasn’t met with the light of the gates, their reflection but a distant memory. She was met with the light of the sun, shading her face with orange. Please take me still, welcome me to you. Her body hurt like no other pain she had experienced, besides a warm hand on hers, keeping her from truly fading. Maybe not yet. Maybe this is ok. The warmth squeezed her, her name on his lips. His. Him. Oh. He was there, watching over her from wherever she was, by her side. Her angel in the dark, her warmth in the cold. Her lungs when she couldn’t breathe, her heart when hers couldn’t beat. Him. Please don’t take me, not yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspired and some lyrics used from

[everythingmp3]

my angel, my sin

adult!Van x fem!reader

after nearly three decades of being together, Van has accepted that things aren’t going to change for her and Tai, resigned to the fact that there is no point in fighting their doomed fate. that is until she meets you.

authors note: I did something a little different with this one bc I wanted to explore a taivan fail marriage (love them both but they would be insane as wives) and what might happen if someone else entered the picture, so there’s a good amount of plot. also I’ll be real, I was kinda into the idea of pillow princess Van while writing this, so yeah. I really hope you like it <3

warnings: minors dni. infidelity, smut (oral, reader giving)

word count: 10k

there is safety in a cage. there is safety in being locked in, being constrained and unfree in your movement, there is a convenient lack of choice and no need for bravery when you submit to your circumstances, when you let the days pass you by without changing a single thing, without breaking out of what is known to you, without ever fighting for more. 

something along those lines was a way of explaining why Tai and Van had stayed together for over 25 years, even when they were close to going insane together.

after getting rescued and eventually starting college, there had been numerous discussions about breaking up, about moving on, they had tried “taking a break” but it was only a matter of weeks until they got back together, slightly ashamed of their inability to live as “Tai” and “Van” instead of “Tai and Van”. it was physical, the terror they felt when they were separated, they had spent about 19 months attached at the hip, literally tied together in their sleep, so once they were free to be out in the world on their own, free to explore their desires and fantasies, everything in them told them that it was too dangerous, to sever the bond that had kept them alive out there. their relationship had been a central part of their survival, so it would have required a strength that neither of them possessed at the time: to brave through both severe and ptsd and the deep pain that their separation would have come with.

the first few years were fine, good even, they were long-distance during college, which gave them a decent amount of independence, it made it easy to avoid fights, to focus on the beautiful parts of their relationship, but once they both graduated, there was no reason not to move in together, so they did, quickly aware of just how different their ideas of a good life were, making compromises left and right that always left a bitter taste, that made them wish they could have just had the guts to go out and find new partners, ones that they could actually see eye to eye with. they married in their early thirties, once everyone around them started doing it, because not getting married would have been an admission, it would have signaled that there was a part of them that was not entirely enthusiastic about the word “forever” and if Tai and Van were one thing, it was stubborn, so they tied the knot, a fucked up irony to that symbol that did not escape them.

their stubbornness was apparent in the shared refusal to show weakness, to admit that they were unsatisfied, to throw the towel and say “I can´t do this anymore, I´m leaving”, to just be honest with each other and say it: that they were tired and needed more from life, from love, from everything. neither of them were to blame and both of them were, so naturally, they ran in circles during every single argument, never reaching any kind of resolution. 

their deep codependency and complete lack of identity outside of their union made it so that they powered through many years of marriage without giving into the idea of “maybe, just maybe, we could try being friends while we figure out who were are on our own?”. it sounded so simple in theory but it was anything but that in practice, the plain truth of it was that they were scared, even at that age, even thought over ten years had passed, there was still that deep fear that struck them at their core whenever they imagined living on their own and the thing that made it even worse was that nobody understood their unique situation because no other married couple had the baggage of having lived through horrors in the woods together as teenage girls. nobody else could have given them advice that  they´d considered helpful because nobody was able to understand just how riddled with hyper-complex feelings their relationship was. there was no example for them to follow, no couple to ask for guidance, so over time, they truly felt like they were stuck with each other in a sphere that nobody else could reach, not unlike some of the feelings they’d had in the woods, and it made a nasty resentment fester in each of them, that feeling of entrapment, of seeing no way out. it wore them out, the constant awareness that true loving companionship was not supposed to feel like bone-crushing work.

they did have their good moments, even amidst all the chaos, even twenty years in, every once in a while they spent a Sunday morning having a late breakfast, joking around laughing the way exact way they had when they were girls, sometimes they still watched films together and made snarky comments all the way through, every once in a while they found themselves in the dark, reaching for each other, not talking about it the next day, the way they´d clung to each other in the night, the way they´d monetarily slipped back into the familiar rhythm of their intimacy. still, over the years those moments had gotten less and less frequent. once they reached 40, they thought it might be time to be mature about it and try couple´s therapy, but one awful session was enough for them to vow to never return, leaving their therapist with a migraine and themselves with even more frustration to swallow. 

at that point in their life they were tired of fighting, they were tired of the drama and tired of the mess, so they fell into a routine, one where they were cordial with each other, one that was closer to a roommate situation than a marriage situation. sometimes a routine like that works so well, so neatly, so perfectly, that it eventually leads to a quiet death of the soul, unless there is a sudden shift, a rupture. 

in Van´s case, you were that rupture. 

during your first year of college, you´d gotten lucky enough to find a group of friends that were looking for a new roommate in a house that was situated in one of the nicer parts of town, a residential area that students usually couldn´t afford, one of them had family in real estate, so you took her up on the generous offer and moved in that fall. 

you´d never been the type to to spend much time talking to neighbors, but once you were aware that you lived next to a married lesbian couple, your interest was piqued. your roomates told you that they mostly talked to Van because Tai was sort of a workaholic, something about politics, which meant that you weren´t surprised when you ran into Van on her own shortly after you moved in, an evening where you both happened to come home at the same time. 

in your memory, those first few minutes of getting to know each other hadn´t been anything extraordinary. you told her what you were doing in college, she told you about her job, you exchanged a few basic facts about yourselves, nothing too exciting, but in her memory, that had already been the beginning of what was inevitably going to happen down the line. you hadn´t been aware of this but she´d had a rough day and the way you talked to her was different from the way other strangers usually did: you never broke eye contact, you gave her your full undivided attention even though you were just doing a bit of small-talk, a sweet smile and bright eyes as you listened to her, and to someone as lonely and starved for connection as Van was at that time, having someone´s full attention like that was nothing short of exhilarating. you left that interaction wanting to know much more about her, she seemed intriguing, slightly mysterious to you, something told you that there was a lot behind those eyes, and on a surface level, she was also strikingly attractive, so you found yourself hoping it wouldn´t stay at that brief encounter with her. 

neither of you had the words for it at the time, but there was an instant feeling of familiarity between you during your initial few run-ins, an ease when you laughed about something that the other person said, an honesty to your exchange that felt refreshing, like you didn´t have to to polite chit-chat but could actually put your cards on the table and be real, which made it impossible not to seek each other out again.

Van worked from home a few days a week and you only had about 10 contact hours at uni, so naturally, you saw each other again and again the following weeks, each time a little too excited, a little too eager, a little too willing to brave through wind and weather just to stay outside and talk for a while longer. one time your roommate saw you standing there and asked you when you came in what you´d been discussing with her, and you couldn´t for the life of you summarize the amount of topics you´d quickly switched between, the natural flow of your exchange that reminded you of the way you talked with close friends. 

without even realizing, your conversations turned from being a few minutes long into being fifteen minutes long, to half an hour of standing in the driveway and forgetting about the time, you chastising her for calling herself a film expert without ever having seen any of the cult classics released after the year 2000, telling her which ones to catch up on asap, which was a welcome excuse for her to start another conversation with you once she´d seen them and could tell you all of her thoughts. part of the appeal of talking to you was that you were so willing to spill details about your life to her: petty grievances you had with some of your professors, drama you´d overheard in the living room the night before, frustrating phone calls with your parents she could sympathize with as someone who’d had a fair amount of fights with her mother as a student. she loved having her mind taken off her own issues by listening to you, your funny way of putting certain things, your youthfulness, it brought out a humor in her that she´d thought of as long lost, and it charmed you, the fact that she was able to keep up, that she knew how to make you laugh, genuinely. 

she knew that she was getting herself into trouble during those weeks, she knew it, whenever you sat down with her on their front porch for a moment, whenever she felt a sting of jealousy at the mention of a girl in your life, or caught a glimpse of you sunbathing in the garden from their bedroom window, she could feel it, something way too intense bubbling beneath the surface, a pull towards you that was getting harder and harder to fight back against.

you didn´t know this but there was one specific reason why she could not stop thinking about you, why she was haunted by all of your interactions: your way of toeing the line between a tone that could be interpreted as both friendly or flirty. you hit the mark right in the middle, every single time, you were subtle with your flirting, and it made her turn the things you said to her and how you said them over in her head many times, part of her thinking “don´t be so self-absorbed, she´s just being kind” another part of her thinking “don´t be so oblivious, she clearly has a thing for you”.

during those first weeks of knowing each other you never exchanged numbers, so it became a guessing game of sorts, when you´d see each other, when you´d talk again, and somehow, the unpredictable nature of your encounters made them more thrilling, made it easier to long for more whenever you went a whole week not seeing each other, and it made both of you painfully aware of how much more you wanted, how desperately you wished you could just invite each other over, but you knew how suspicious that would have looked, the married woman inviting the young neighbor over, to “hang out”. perhaps it wouldn´t have been that big of a deal, perhaps nobody would have thought twice about it, but your shared hesitation gave away that you both knew where things would lead if you were left alone in a room for too long. 

one specific evening, the inevitable happened.

one of your roomates was out of town and the two others were out for dinner. around 9 pm you stepped outside for a moment to take out the trash and because you weren´t used to being the only person at home, you forgot to take your keys with you and the wind made the front door slam shut, leaving you locked out. you didn´t have your phone on you either, so you were left with two options: staying outside and sitting on the steps of the house until your roommates came back later that night, or asking a kind neighbor if they´d let you stay for an hour or so.

naturally, you chose the latter and there was an obvious answer as to which neighbor you would ask. it was a little calculated on your part because you knew that that was maybe your one chance of getting into their house with a clear excuse, a motif that hid your other, less innocent motif for wanting to be let into Van´s personal space. there was no way of turning you away in a situation like that, so once she opened the door and you told her about it, standing there in your loungewear, your face soft in the bit of remaining natural light, she knew she was playing with fire by telling you yes, but she couldn´t help it, it was too late, she´d have said yes to anything you wanted from her, she felt a sharp awareness of it as you walked inside and followed her to the living room, that there was nothing she would deny you if you just asked her for it, and deep down, beneath the part of her that said “no, don´t do it”, there was a much larger part that was glad that you´d come to her, that said “when was the last time you felt this alive? imagine what it would feel like, to give into her?”. 

Van led you to the living room and told you to sit and get comfortable as she got you a drink from the open kitchen, connected to the large living space, where she´d already made herself one, throwing out the fact that Tai was out of town for a conference, which was why she was home alone. the relief you felt when she said that was way too strong, and you didn´t mask it well, she caught it in your gaze as she sat down next to you, your sudden air of giddiness. you kept a safe distance between each other, but not enough to be unaware of the palpable tension, a moment of silence as you both tried to act normal, tried to find a casual way to talk to each other, while feeling your hearts beating of your chests just from sitting there together.

thankfully, the initial awkwardness subsided within minutes, you quickly fell back into your dynamic, one that was built on humor but also trust, over the weeks you´d been something like confidants to each other, enjoying the kind of honesty that was made easy by the fact that your lives were completely separate, that you had no way of spilling each other’s secrets to someone that the other person knew. neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged it but it was clear that you were both lonely in your own ways and that your connection was a way to escape that feeling.

the atmosphere of the room was nice at that hour, a few candles burning, a dim light form an expensive looking lamp in the corner of the room, a peaceful silence, the kind of atmosphere that turns conversations more intimate and personal, so you found yourselves spilling more and more about your personal lives as you kept drinking and losing your filter, absentmindedly touching each other at times, a pat on the shoulder, a touch on the arm, a thrill each time, one that made you both want more, pushing the limit of how long you could rest your hand on the other person each time. 

you´d picked up on it before, that Van hardly ever mentioned Tai, and that when she did, it was always with a slightly pained tone, “my wife” never said with much affection, so it wasn´t a secret, that they were not doing too well as a couple. that night Van told you a bit more, since she felt seen and heard by you and appreciated the fact that you never looked at her with pity, that you had a way of making off-hand jokes in the exact right moments to get her out of her spiraling thoughts. 

from what she told you, you got the sense that neither of them were truly awful people to be with romantically, that neither of them were truly intentionally hurting the other, but that they´d just gotten tangled up in a mess that was so hard to get out of after all that time that staying in it was simply the less exhausting option. at one point that night she slipped up and straight up told you “she actually cheated on me. with someone at work for a few months last year. or maybe she lied and it’s still going on, I don´t fucking know”,  that sudden confession smacked you across the face, so you just stared at her, uttering something like “oh.. I´m sorry” as she looked at you, a fragility to her expression as she continued, “and the worst thing was that I wasn´t even angry or shocked because it was so fucking obvious to me, that that would happen in our relationship eventually”, “infidelity?” you asked, which she nodded at, “yes. it was always going to happen, so in a way I didn´t even blame her because it felt so inevitable. sorry I shouldn´t  be telling you all of this, I´ll stop”. 

what you asked her next was intentional, it was not subtle at all and you knew it, but each passing moment you felt yourself growing more and more eager to touch her, so you just said it, “have you ever considered t it? cheating on her too?”. she looked at you for what felt like ages, you held her gaze, moving a little closer instinctively, holding eye-contact. Van could have answered in many ways, and chose the single worst possible response, full, uncensored honesty: “I´m considering it right now.”, her voice unwavering, her gaze back where it had been drawn way too many times already that night: your lips.

the second you processed what she´d just said, your whole body burned up, your face flushed, your breathing quickened, it came crashing over you in full force, the rush of her confession, her want out in the open. there was nothing left to say, there was no other possible response you could have given her then but to move closer to her, waiting as she reached up and touched your cheek, her lips parted in anticipation, your faces barely inches apart, until you were the one to break the last barrier, your hand on her neck to pull her into a deep kiss.

the thing that was most telling about your need for each other was that you did not pull away and wait for a reaction, from the moment your lips touched you lost all shame and kept going and going, adjusting your positions on the couch, your leg over hers, half on her lap as you both grabbed each other, tearing at each other´s clothes, panting and sighing between kisses, desperate and needy, not dignified at all in the way you got all over each other, a sloppiness to your kissing that turned sexual very quickly, touching tongues and moaning into each other´s open mouths, trying to get some sort of friction from moving your legs apart so the other could push their knee in there, a violent release of all the tension that had built up before, about 15 minutes of making out and moving against each other like that until you eventually lost your breaths and pulled away, hot and red and completely out of it, smoothing down your hair and pulling your previously discarded shirts back on as you mumbled “sorry, I´m so sorry” at least five times, unsure how to possibly move on from what had just gone down. instead of trying to find words, trying to talk about it, you hastily suggested that you should probably leave her be, since your roomates should have probably been back by then, which she agreed to, still breathing heavy and as she saw you to the door.

before you went back to your house, you both stood there at the threshold, telling yourselves that it was just a moment of weakness, that it had gotten late and that you were drunk and that you could forget all about it, you reassured each other that it was a one-time thing, nothing to lose sleep over, but of course, it wouldn´t stay at that, you both knew while saying all those things that it was complete bullshit, that you´d barely drank two glasses and definitely did not feel sorry, and definitely did not want to forget about it.  

after you left, she sat down on the staircase, head in her hands, trying to pretend that she felt guilty, trying to make herself feel bad, but only able to focus on the feeling the burn of her skin where you´d kissed her, clinging to it, the heavenly sensation of you being all hers.

the next day you woke up with an ache for her touch that you tried your best to ignore, busying yourself with cooking an elaborate dish, doing coursework, listening to music, cleaning up around the house, but by 5 pm you were done with your to-do list and had no plans to go out with friends, so you laid down and tried to take a nap because the time simply would not pass, minute after minute, dragged out by your excruciating desire to go over to her again, so around 6 pm you could not stand it anymore and accepted your culpability as you left your house to go over and follow your selfish instinct to have her again. 

the moment Van opened the door, she smiled at you in a way that said “I knew this would happen”, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed as she looked you for a moment, taking in the sight of you before asking “locked yourself out again, hm?”, which made you smile too then, a shake of your head, a shared feeling of “what the fuck are we doing here.” as you stared at each other, unable to pretend that you felt anything but joy when she said “come in”.

the next few hours turned into a feverish haze of desire, you lost track of time entirely as you continued where you´d left off the night before, frantically undressing in the hallway before landing on the couch again, hands eagerly exploring the spots of your bodies that you hadn´t gotten to the night before. 

that evening she became addicted to you, to a degree that was beyond what she´d expected, because you read her so well that she didn´t even have to muster up the courage to ask you for what she really wanted. a few minutes into making out and caressing each other, you moved down to her legs, and for a moment it seemed like a dream to her, too good to be true, that you were doing the exact thing she´d been dying for; each time she´d imagined being with you, she hadn´t imagined fucking you but being fucked by you. the one thing that got her to finish while masturbating those days was the thought of you between her thighs, but she had not expected that you were into it, her assumption was that most younger girls would probably want her to take charge and fuck them and she would´ve done it, gladly, but the fact that you were so eager to give, to please, your lips soft on her skin as you kissed your way down her body, it made her yours, entirely. that night you switched between making out, having sex, and talking for about 3 hours until you were spent and exhausted and laughed about how beyond help you were, how you could already see it playing out, your impending affair. 

the thing that Van told you as you laid together, absentmindedly tracing the outline of each other´s exposed bodies, was that her and Tai did still have sex every once in a while, but only ever after fights. it was always an extension of their struggle for power, always rushed and aggressive, forcing orgasms out of each other so quickly that it hurt, that it felt more like a punishment than anything else, never an expression of love or of true desire, always a tool for dominance. so even though Van was not much of a top, over the years she´d started fucking Tai after particularly nasty fights, to regain the upper hand, and it always left her feeling horrible afterwards, ashamed and sad. 

some people were really into hate sex but Van had never been one of them, to truly be satisfied during sex she needed it to be sensual and passionate, she was not the type for degrading or brutal stuff, sometimes a hint of it maybe, but most of the time what she truly wanted out of intimacy was to be lovingly opened up by someone, to be tended to and worshiped, to turn soft and vulnerable in someone's hands. she loved slow kissing during sex, she loved taking her time and finishing only a good while into it, and most of all she loved being eaten out. penetration was good in certain moments for her, she did enjoy it when you kept your tongue on her while adding pressure with your fingers, but nothing pleased her more than the simple act of getting head, preferably multiple times with breaks in between, which is what ended up happening most times you were over at their place. she´d stopped letting Tai do it for her because she quite literally did not want to open up for her like that, couldn´t bear the vulnerability of it, so with you, she rediscovered the side of her that she´d tried to ignore, her deep need to submit to someone sexually, to give up control and be pleased without worrying about being perceived as weak. 

it was not that she did not enjoy pleasuring you too, sometimes when you seemed a little too satisfied with yourself after you´d made her cum twice in a row, she pushed you down and held you in place to finish you off too, sucking on your neck, on your tits while making you cum against her hand, proving to you that she was very much capable of also turning you into a whining mess, the way you usually turned her into one. sometimes you tried different things, one time she begged you to let her watch you jerk off which turned into her doing the same thing next to you, a few times you were both so in heat that you just rubbed up against each other in various ways, deeply pleased by the sight of the other person’s head falling back, the feeling of your hips moving in unison.

and yet, the one thing that made you both feel electrified the most was when you did what you´d done to her that first time you´d had sex: giving her head until she was too weak to speak, to do anything but lay there and submit to her bodies intense response to you. 

the contrast was unbearably hot to you: her tough exterior, her nonchalant and stoic aura, that melted away in an instant each time you touched her, replaced by a sensitivity and softness that drove you crazy, that made you feel protective over her in some way. on your part it also had something to do with pride, there was no way of denying it, that you got a taste for it very quickly, the unique power you had over her, the knowledge that you and you alone were giving her what she really needed, the fact that she seemed to be physically incapable of staying away from you for more than a few days. you were addicted to it the same way she was, haunted by her moans and words of praise, the way she sighed your name, the way her legs felt smooth against your face, her taste, all of it.

it wasn´t just emotional for her, for you it was also shifting things, your collision. for a good while you´d felt like you were just floating around, going from place to place without being truly tethered to anyone or anything, friendships that were fun but never that deep, no truly fulfilling romantic encounters, so the feeling of being needed on a visceral level, being a central part of someone´s life, being physically indispensable, it gave you a sense of purpose. you knew that it might have sounded absurd to others, describing fucking someone else’s wife like that, but it was true, it was giving you something that you´d been lacking, that you´d been craving. 

the affair had its own rhythm that you fell into those weeks after you first got together, there was no way you could sneak her over to your place, with at least one of your roommates always being home, so their house was the place to meet up, and Van was careless enough to invite you over whenever Tai was working late or out at some politicians dinner party, other people might have waited until their partner was out of town, to be 100% sure that they could not be caught, but Van was too desperate for you to wait that long in between, she told herself that she could always get dressed in a hurry if she randomly heard the front door unlocking while you were there, but lucky for the both of you, it never came to that.

about a month into it, you broke the news that you´d go on a seven day trip with your friends, which would mean that you´d be separated for way longer than you were used to, since those early days of the affair, you saw each other at least four times a week, sometimes more if you both happened to be home at the same time during the afternoon or on a day off.

you were both not thrilled about spending those days apart, but part of you also felt a sense of excitement over the fact that it meant that your need had time to grow, that your next time of seeing each other would be intense and even more desperate than usual.

Van realized when you told her just how lost she had gotten in her feelings for you because for a second she felt genuine terror at the thought of not seeing you for that long, you´d made her experience a sort of sexual renaissance, you´d woken her body up again; for years Van had suppressed her needs, which had mostly been drowned out by her depressive moods anyway, so it could not have been overstated, how life changing it was to finally be connected to her desires and her body again, to feel free in her expression of her sexuality, to be taken care of by you, since it was not just about the sex itself, it had slowly started bleeding into other areas of her life too, the feeling of autonomy, the feeling of vitality, something about your connection had brought her back to life, so she tried her best to keep her separation anxiety at bay. 

after seven long days, most of which she´d spent working over-time or going outside as much as she could to try and remain somewhat sane, she finally got the text telling her that you were back home and would come over once you were done unpacking and eating dinner. 

the moment she closed the door behind you later that night, you couldn´t even finish the sentence “you look good” because you immediately felt her hands on your face, her lips finding yours with a force that made you stumble back against the wall, bracing yourself as you smiled into the kiss and returned the energy, more than willing to save your words for later.

what you didn´t know was that she´d spent a better part of the week thinking about you, to a degree that was bordering on the obsessive, it was slowly but surely driving her mad; you showed up in her dreams, she woke up hot and frustrated more than once after feeling you close in her sleep, she regularly zoned out while trying to get work done, Tai had to repeat herself more around her because her mind was always with you, the way you looked at her,  the way you ran your fingers through her hair while kissing, the feeling of your bare leg pressed against hers, her hand on your thigh when you got hot and heavy, your nails digging into her flesh as you held her in place, every little detail was burned into her mind and the constant flashbacks were killing her, so naturally, the moment you were finally in front of her again, it all came bubbling up, and you could tell from the way she kissed you: she was fucking starving. 

after you both pulled away to catch some air she sighed, “jesus christ, you smell so fucking good”, while remaining barely an inch from your face. lucky for her, you´d gotten out oft the shower about fifteen minutes before coming over, so your skin was freshly lotioned, soft to the touch and and giving off a fresh scent that was sure to haunt her the coming days, she breathed in as deeply as possible, a shiver down her spine, a feverish adoration for you gnawing at her sanity as her hands wandered all over you.

“you´re not seeing anyone, are you?” she made sure, so you shook your head, wondering why she asked in that specific moment until you felt her eager lips on your neck and knew exactly why: she´d made sure that she could do whatever she wanted to you without worrying about marks or bruises, and you were happy in your passivity, pinned against the wall as you felt her tongue on the side of your neck, her teeth ever so lightly digging in, clearly lost in her need to taste you, to devour you, and if she hadn´t been careful she might have actually hurt you but you were glad to be wanted that violently, her hands rough under your shirt, on your chest, squeezing your tits hard enough to leave them shades of pink and red where her fingertips pressed down, drawing out increasingly loud sounds from you until she finally let go and faced you again, her lips swollen, her face flushed, an intensity to her gaze that was close to something animalistic as she kept feeling you up, making a satisfied humming sound, you smiled then as you placed your hands on her back.

“well you´re high energy, considering the hour”, she nodded, briefly wiping her mouth, “yeah, I just..”, she was beyond words, so you pulled her closer, your, tilting your head, a tenderness to your gaze as you asked, “should I help you relax? wind down a little?”. of course you knew that that was why she wanted you over, still, you liked hearing her say it, begging for it, “yes, please”. “you really missed me, hm?”, a smugness to your expression that got to her, she liked being being teased by you, it made her feel weak in a delicious way, “you have no fucking idea”, she uttered as she pulled you down the hallway, her hand firm around yours, almost ripping you forward because she was so impatient, leading you to the couch, your preferred place to hook up because fucking in their bed did seem a little too shameless, and besides, their couch was large and luxurious enough to feel like a bed anyway. 

there was no need to pretend or waste time, so she pulled down her jeans and took her place, getting comfortable as you got down on your knees in front of her, moving between her legs and brushing your cheek against her inner thigh for a moment, looking up at her with innocent eyes, a docility to your demeanor that almost killed her then. she usually only took her pants off by herself because she liked the ritual of you ripping down her underwear, so you did, freeing her of it in one determined motion, placing your hands flat on her freckled thighs after, caressing them as you leaned forward, drawing it out to have her right where you wanted her.

Van seemed even more desperate than usual, you could tell from her heavy breathing, from the faint whimpering sound, that she´d been dying to have you back all week, that she´d probably tried and failed to be satisfied with touching herself to the memory of you, it was a little cruel of you to draw it out, you could hear her whispering a soft “please..” as she leaned back and waited, burning up from the sensation of your fingers trailing her skin, so you finally put her out of her misery and kissed your way up her thigh to where she needed you, a gasp of relief as you put your lips to her cunt and ran your tongue over the familiar sensation of her arousal, warm and slick, a broad stroke of your tongue, a humm of pleasure, savoring her taste before diving in, your hands firm on her thighs as you pulled her forward a little to have her right in your face, no worry about air flow as you buried yourself in her.

you´d gotten to know her body well enough by that point to have the exact rhythm and speed that she needed from you figured out, and you used it to your advantage, mercilessly, moving your tongue up and down between her folds in a sloppy intense manner that bordered on making out with her cunt, and it had her whining within seconds, her hands in your hair, roughly tugging at it as she praised “that´s it, baby, keep going”, she knew it was pretty shameless, to use pet names when you weren´t her “baby”, not her anything, but during sex she couldn´t help it, she was just too into you, and you didn´t mind, it felt good to be claimed like that, even just for a moment.

she struggled hard with keeping her legs still, so you held them in place as best as you could while feeling her rock against your mouth, your chin mouth glistening with her juices, drunk on the feeling of her slick heat against yours lips, the heavenly sensation of hearing her panting and moaning for more, her hips moving with the rhythm of your tongue, the brief vision of her head thrown back, her throat exposed, her glowing hair against her pale skin as you glanced up from below, you could feel yourself growing wet from it, the utter thrill of having her at your mercy like that.

Van eventually grew so erratic and dizzy with lust that she held onto your face, harder than usual, as she abandoned all shame as she pushed your head forward, grinding herself against you, using you in a way, which you submitted to in an instant, holding your tongue in place as she basically rode your face, brushing up against your nose with her clit in a way that made her lose her last bit of composure, her sounds closer to cries then as she felt the pleasurable ache at her core deepening and deepening each passing second, “you feel so fucking good”, she breathed, overcome with affection for you, your way of giving her exactly what she needed and more, your selflessness when it came to intimacy, when it came to her desires.

she could only keep up her aggressive claiming of your face for so long, after a few minutes of perverse, nearly pornographic sounds from both of you as you got lost in the aggressive heat, her hips became sore, a needy cry from her that signaled to you that you should take charge again, so you pushed her back into the couch cushion and slowed it down, urging her “breathe, I´ve got you” deep, intense strokes of your tongue, deliberate and sensual licks that were a sweet contrast to her messy, fast movements before, a satisfied sigh from her, followed by “god, don´t stop”, as you kept going, never letting up, never interrupting the flow of intense arousal that was filling her head to toe, a warmth that was unparalleled, burning through her heart, her soul, her whole being, submitting to you was her way of experiencing revelation. 

you spent a good while like that, feeling her stroke your hair in encouragement as you let her get worked up to the point that she needed to get to, in order to really cum as hard she wanted to, so eventually, once you felt her growing restless, you did the final thing you knew would push her over the edge, your tongue focused solely on her most sensitive spot, flicking over it again and again as you forced her weak legs open to have enough space, suckling on her clit with a low hum of pleasure, which was the thing that made her feel that sudden violent wave of heat at her core, helpless mumbling and cursing under her breath as you drew out her orgasm, the shuddering kind, the kind that´s full body, all consuming and satisfying to a degree that no rushed jerking off could ever compete with, it was the thing that made her crave you, your touch, your mouth, the way you made her cum without rushing her or forcing it out of her, each time you went down on her she knew you´d let her take as long as she needed, you´d keep your face between her legs for hours if she wanted, so in that moment, she felt nothing but pure bliss as she finished against your mouth, her hips still jerking up in slower intervals as you let her ride it out, your lips still on her, leaving light kisses on the mess you´d made as she let go of your head, a barely audible “fuck..” as she went slack, a comfortable silence while you looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her all flushed and blissed out, her eyes shut, her lips parted,  her chest rising and falling, a pat of her hand next to her on the couch, a signal for you to come up and join her. 

once you got down next to her you moved closer and felt her reaching for your hand as she turned her face and smiled at you, slightly shy in the wake of her vocal climax, “I like when you get like that”, you mused, gently touching her arm, “oh really?”, she asked, a tired smile, eyeing you from the side, slowly coming back to her senses. “yeah.  it´s hot when you hold me in place, use me”, she squeezed your hand then, grinning, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, “okay I see. I´ll keep that in mind” a pause before she added, “I really don´t deserve you, huh?” meaning it, she’d felt slightly guilty for unleashing her desperation onto you like that, and there you were, telling her it was a turn on. “you know, you should ride me face sometime. like actually sit on me”, that comment got a blush out of her, she shook her head and protested but deep down she knew she´d probably take you up on it, it made her feel a lingering heat at her core, to imagine you under her like that, your pretty face, all hers.

“god I don´t know what the fuck is going on with me..” she admitted, shaking her head, still high on endorphins, a sympathetic pat on her shoulder from you then, deeply pleased by your effect on her. “am I messing with your head?”, you joked, but she didn´t laugh, she just nodded, “you are, yes. I like you so much.” it came out more sincere than she intended, so you went quiet for a moment, letting the words settle, leaning your head against the cushion while staring at her, waiting for her to look at you, which she did, brushing a stand of hair out of your face, a gentle swipe of her thumb over your lower lip before leaning in and giving you a kiss, a tender one, unlike before, the kind of kiss where you just leave your lips pressed against together for a moment, followed up by a few minutes of soft, slow making out. 

eventually, Van reached down to put on her underwear again before walking over to the kitchen behind you to get you both a glass of water, handing it to you once she sat back down and paid closer attention to you than before, looking right at you as she said, “I just realized I haven´t asked you a single fucking thing about your week yet, I´m a horrible host”, you smiled, “no worries, not much to tell anyway, it was just a nice getaway, no juicy stories”, she smiled, looking at you with unconcealed affection,“still, how are you, really?”. it was clear that she was actually interested, invested in your life, your state of mind. you thought about it as she drank up and put the glass down, her hands free to touch you again, resting on your legs as you spoke. “oh I´m good, just a bit tired from the flight, but other than that, I´m great right now”, emphasis on the last words to make it clear that it had to do with her, she nodded, “well, I feel kinda bad now, calling you over here when you´re already exhausted. you should probably be sleeping right now, hm?”, you shook your head, “oh no, I´ll take this over sleep, any time”.

Van glanced down for a moment and noticed the slight bruising on your knees, which had appeared because the floor right below the couch was not covered by carpet.“jesus I´m sorry..” she said, inspecting it closer, “oh no need to apologize, I don´t mind.” she gently traced the red skin, mostly out of concern, but deep down she was also satisfied by the sight, proof of your submission to her needs, deep down she´d always had a thing for women on their knees, something about worship, something about devotion, her hand wandered up your thigh eventually, her voice low as she said, “I do feel a little guilty sometimes though. you´re so sweet and I treat you.. well not the way you deserve. you should be out on a date or something” for a moment Van genuinely felt a sense of shame over her greed for you, the impact she was quite literally leaving on your body without being able to give you much more than a few nights a week, in secret. 

“I´m not doing you a favor, Van. I wouldn´t keep coming back here if it didn´t give me what I need too”, she looked back up at you again,“it does?”, she knew of course that you were into her, but it wasn´t easy for her to believe that being of service to her was that pleasing to you. “yes, I´d be pretty devastated if this ended right now” you insisted. she moved her hand to your neck, her eyes trailing down to that space above your collarbone that she wanted to kiss again, “you know that that´s kind of hard to believe for me, right?”, you were amused by her inability to see just how deep your attraction to her was because to you it was so obvious, “well, not to be too forward but your body feels really good and you sound hot. and that´s more than enough to get me off”, she shook her head, “okay stop”, you liked seeing her flustered so you kept pushing it, leaning forward playing with her hair as you said, “I mean it. you´re very hot, you know that right?” a light shove from her then because she could feel her face turning red from your overt flirting, “alright, enough with the flattery, miss” but deep down she loved it, you could tell from her failed attempt to suppress a smile. 

it had gotten late, it was nearing midnight, you were both getting sleepy and you´d come over in the clothes you´d wear to bed, so there was an obvious question on Van´s mind, a hesitant pause before she said, “listen. would it be really fucked up to ask you to sleep over tonight?”, she was aware that it might be out of line to ask you to sleep in the bed she usually shared with her wife, you eyed her, the way she was holding herself with slight self-consciousness, a soft smile as you said, “probably, yeah”, she nodded, “right, yeah, I thought so..” a slightly disappointed expression that you took as a compliment before you continued, “but. I can cope with doing messed up things. clearly” gesturing back and forth between you two, which made her laugh then, “okay, good. I mean, you can sleep on my side, if that makes it less weird”, you were tickled by that logic, “sure, let´s do that”, “come on then, I think you deserve to relax now”, she said, giving your thigh a light squeeze as she got up and motioned for you to follow her upstairs. 

as you passed by the kitchen counter your eyes landed on an opened envelope near the edge, “Vanessa?” you said, which made her flinch and grab your wrist to pull you towards the hallway, away from the document, you laughed as she did this, amused by her dramatic reaction “so, that´s your real name?”, “obviously, yes. and just so you know, I fucking hate it.”, a pause before she added, “but I´ll admit, in your voice it actually doesn´t sound that horrible”, “careful, don´t be too sweet to me. Vanessa”, usually she´d have gotten pissed at someone for teasing her with her full name, but with you it was different, she could tell it was done lovingly, it also kind of turned her on but she´d unpack that another time, “no? why not?”, you looked back at her then as you went up the stairs, “don´t wanna make your side piece fall for you”, “side piece?? that´s awful, I don´t think of you as that”, she sounded scandalized, “I know, I´m just messing with you”, in that moment it hit her what you´d actually said before,“wait, what was that, repeat that for me”, her demeanor suddenly much lighter, but you just smiled at her, the glow on your face was enough for her to know that you had meant it, that you didn´t just see her as a casual fling. 

the fact that it was pitch black outside by that point made it much easier to go into their room, it felt less intrusive than if you´d seen every little detail, besides, you were too tired to take a good look around anyway, so you went over to their bed and tried to get comfortable as you felt her getting in on the other side. you did have a brief moment of worry then as you realized what exactly it was that you were doing, where you were laying down, and it didn´t escape her. about a minute passed of you just laying there, quiet, not looking at her or moving to snuggle up to her, which amused her, the fact that you had no problem having sex with her but suddenly got shy in that moment, so eventually she turned to face you, a smile as she said, “you do know that you can touch me, right? considering what we just did, this should not be the thing to lose sleep over”, you moved your head to meet her eyes then.

“okay very funny. I just thought it might be weird for you, if it feels like I´m her or something…”, she shook her head,“we don´t get close under the covers anymore, so, you´re good”, that almost made you laugh then,“that´s a pretty depressing image”, “oh I know, that´s why you had such an easy time seducing me”, she drew out the last two words for dramatic effect and you knew she was joking but you decided to play into it, a prideful smile on your face as you moved closer to her, pressing yourself up against her side as you whispered, “right, I took full advantage of your loneliness, didn´t I?” your lips soft on the side of her neck, your hand under her shirt, a helpless sigh from her “hmm”, “I corrupted you, huh?” your fingertips trailing down her ribs, you loved feeling her weak and quiet from your effect on her, so you kept whispering to her between kisses, her eyes shut as she let you feel her up until she eventually grew too hot from it and pushed you away, gently. “okay, easy you´re gonna have to stop that, unless you´ll follow through”, you cocked your head, a playful sparkle to your eyes, “should I?”. Van shook her head, in slight disbelief over your willingness to go again, “I appreciate the energy, really, but let´s save it for tomorrow”.

she had a different urge then, one that came from a place of pure tenderness, the sight of you all soft and comfortable next to her made it impossible for her to leave any space between your bodies, “come on, turn around for me”, a nudge to your side that made you face away from her, so she could put her arm around you and pull you close, her face nuzzled against your back, breathing in that scent of yours she couldn´t get enough of, “good?”, she asked, squeezing you a little as you moved your legs against hers under the blanket. “yeah, this is nice”, you sighed, relaxing into it, a deep sense of safety in her embrace.

both of you instantly grew heavy, so you shut your eyes and drifted off, whispering “sleep well” to each other at the exact same time, which made you both laugh a quiet, almost girlish laugh. just before you fell asleep, you put your hand over hers, in that state of half consciousness it was easy to be romantic, it was easy to do what you really wanted to, so you fell asleep the way you would with a girlfriend, forgetting for a moment that she wasn´t, too lost in the utter peace you felt being there with her. 

Van knew what some outsiders might have said about her relationship to you, “the lonely wife goes and fucks the hot young neighbor? how surprising.” something cynical like that, and she couldn´t deny that there was some truth to it, but as she felt your body warm against hers that night, she could not see anything nasty in your dynamic, it was impossible, because right then, the part of her that had remained a believer even during her darkest times came alive again; she was convinced that some higher power had made you cross paths. she did not believe in angels in a literal sense but she believed that people could play that part in the lives of others, often without even realizing, and that was how she saw you, as a kind of divine presence in her life that had come and ruptured the routine that was about to suffocate her, that she´d shut herself away in. Van knew that it might have come off as sanctimonious if she´d said it out loud, but she did not care, deep down, she truly felt like you were going to change things for the better, not just for her but for Tai too, because for the first time in ages Van felt a fragile sense of optimism looking forward, instead of the sheer dread she´d felt all the years before. 

she realized then that felt stronger and more capable of trying to figure out how to move on from her marriage, not because she was going to use you as her distraction or emotional support, she was not selfish enough to make you shoulder that burden, but because you were a living breathing reminder that there was more out there, you were a reminder of the possibilities she would open herself up to if she just accepted the initial pain of breaking out of what was known to her. it hit her then, that her feeling of entrapment was not grounded in reality, she was not the young girl stuck in her mothers house anymore and she was also not the teenage girl stranded in the woods; during her developmental years she´d been so unfree and restricted in her movement that as an adult she´d been completely blind to the fact that she could do whatever the fuck she wanted, go wherever she pleased, it was not out of masochism that her and Tai had stayed together for that long, even when it hurt, it was because they were hardwired to accept horrible circumstances as inescapable, they were too good at submitting to pain, in a way it was almost impressive, just how long they could keep their heads above water in situations where others would have already drowned in despair. 

the time she spent with you had shown her just how exhilarating and beautiful it could be, to finally allow herself to look beyond what she was familiar with and to let herself want things, to open herself up to the terrifying act of hoping for more. 

in her deepest fantasies, she could see herself and Tai with new partners, as good friends, talking to each other with that shared humor that they´d lost during their years of marriage, which Van missed, Tai had been her best friend before they’d become lovers, after all. she could envision it perfectly, Tai teasing her about being into younger women, letting herself be bossed around by someone who wasn´t even alive when they were in high school, it didn´t seem impossible to her, it seemed within reach, which shocked her.

as the feeling of you presses against her chest slowed her heart rate, she remembered what it feels like, to be free of anxiety, fully at ease, relaxed to her core. in that moment, nothing was gnawing at her, no past pain could reach her, nothing could disrupt your shared peace, and you were blissfully unaware of it, the fact that she was close to tears right before sleep got a hold of her too. 

the next morning you were unsure if you´d dreamed it up or if it had actually happened: her breath warm against your cheek in the middle of the night, a soft kiss, a whisper, “my angel”. 

[kozmicmizuu]

guys please PLEASE here me out on this kny au idea

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ok yall watched Puss in Boots the last wish?? and have seen the 2019 kny halloween costumes???

guys…. them as puss and death…

PLEASE

idk how this cooked in my head but i can’t get it out after rewatching the movie

so obviously the others would be in this- i’ll get there don’t worry let me cook

tengen would obviously be a bit of a cocky bastard because he’s never been caught or killed, being the successful pirate he is, he considers himself almost untouchable. but he’s avoided death too many times— he was supposed to be dead ages ago. and then giyuu comes in.

giyuu was of course pissed off and agitated that some albino lil pirate bitch kept avoiding his clutches, so he decided to take him himself

then this scene is probably gonna be the first scene of this au, just them meeting in a bar

and the sizes would, of course, be swapped. tengens a big guy who is currently sitting next to the embodiment of death and the purge of the sea and doesn’t suspect a thing— because no way he’s taller than death! he’s not looking up at death, he’s looking down

just like he has been for his whole life

giyuu didn’t say anything (typical) and simply drank with him until tengen got a bit suspicious and felt uneasy about him. giyuu then pulled the same thing death did and told tengen “i’m a big fan- could you sign this for me?”

then pulls out the “wanted- dead or alive” thing and points to dead. then the whole fight scene happens, but it’s a bit different. tengen did land a hit on giyuu, successfully cutting giyuu in half at the stomach. but nothing happened. giyuu just simply put himself back together and acted like nothing happened, he simply said “you do live up to the legends.”

of course, tengen was confused and a bit worried now, giyuu didn’t care, he had an objective and he would complete it

the famous scene of puss actually getting touched by a blade would be blue, a bright yet dark blue— like the seas tengen rules, he just didn’t know that they’d be ruled by someone else (giyuu). also another overall headcanon for giyuu is that he’s a scary guy when he really wants to be

as for the others, i do have some ideas for them

these two are giyuu’s angel and devil on his shoulders, throughout the au, these two are helping giyuu with his decisions and even with fights! they’re like giyuu’s lil summons

i had to add genya my beloved

but yes, giyuu’s lil hell hound babygi— i mean super tough and cool is sanemi ft. two other lil hounds. genya just came along because sanemi made him(he couldn’t find a babysitter). but genya is very determined to impress his big brother.

instead of death being alone i just thought it’d be cool to have a little team for death hehe

also just found out i have a limit of ten images so ima just let yall find the 2019 halloween pics for kny (can be found of pinterest and google!) sigh 😔

but yeah, the rest of the hashira are helping tengen! most of em at least. himejina, kyojuro and muichiro are spirits that are simply wondering around, kinda sorta avoiding being put in the underworld (giyuu is going insane because of that)

and shinobu is a witch! she’s a very talented (and scary) one at that, she’s more than willing to help(may or may not have questions for death about a certain sister of hers)

mitsuri and obanai come together DO NOT SEPARATE! mitsuri is a kitsune while obanai has a big old snake buddy (with kaburamaru) (long ass name for a snake) also obanai did NOT want to go.

the kamaboko squad id also here!! but they’re the comedic breaks for this au, god bless their souls for that

and yes, giyuu shall speak spanish in this too, cause why not

————————————————————————

wowzers this is long (that’s what she said)

[aboutcustardcreams]

Part two

part one

She sees right through me

Can't express how much I loved writing down this chapter. I got carried away, and here's the result. Hope you enjoy it :3

word count: 4000 ish

A pregnant silence fell in the TARDIS right after those simple words slipped from your mouth. A small confession, merely the tip of the iceberg that still was able to cause quite a shock. 

The Doctor’s voice is barely above a whisper when she asks, “so you come from Gallifrey?” 

Of course you did, but she needed to be sure. From the moment she laid her hand upon your chest, she had known. A sound so very familiar to her echoed to her ears, against her palm. It was slightly accelerated, yet in perfect harmony with her own heartbeats. 

Thump Thump Thump 

You nodded your head, and glanced at her while her eyes were still fixed upon your chest. She swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times, as if to find the strength to pull away from you and come to terms with this unexpected revelation. All this time she thought she had lost her family, her people, and yet you stood there, very much alive, and like her. Like a bolt from the blue. She didn’t even know what she was feeling: relief, happiness, fear, confusion. Probably all the above.

You give her a glimpse of a smile, and bow your head just a bit so that you can meet her hazel eyes. “Are you alright?” 

Your voice kinda worked as a wake up call. She nodded quickly and pulled away. One single step back still felt like she had just put an entire ocean between you two. “Of course. I’m great, me. Over the moon.” 

Yaz lightly scoffed at that, clearly having none of it. 

She was lying and it was so obvious. You licked your lips and hummed in thought, suddenly having second thoughts. What were you thinking? Why were you doing this? She had her life sorted out now and was content with it. She wasn’t alone, you had to remember. She had Yaz. And they seemed happy. Complete. You couldn’t just burge in and then what? Disrupt her entire existence? Make her remember you? 

“Are you?” She later questioned, noticing your state of trance and sudden quietness. 

Blinking repeatedly, you waved your hand dismissively, “Sure thing. I’m always fine,” you blurted out. 

“You’re both terrible liars,” comes from Yaz in the background. Her tone is serious yet veiled with a layer of fondness. She found herself thinking that perhaps hiding and …lying was a Time Lord’s thing. 

You let out a sound between a huff and a chuckle. Brief and bitter. The Doctor stirred her lips in a grimace, “I mean, I’m quite shocked if I’m honest. But I’m happy to know you survived the war…” There was honesty in her voice, but also a veil of awkwardness in her movements. She was telling the truth. On one side, she was eager to get to know you, but on the other, she was terrified. 

A lump formed in your throat. “Only because I wasn’t there when it happened,” you stated, somehow a bit ashamed.  

The Doctor frowns at the sight of your features dimming. You’re suddenly wishing to have been there too, to help, maybe? To die? To do something that wasn’t lying in a jail’s cell for an insane amount of time. It wasn’t that easy to read what’s going on inside your head, but the Doctor was trying because you intrigued her. The funny thing was, she only needed a brief physical contact to know it all, a connection she could gain by touching your temple. But it wasn’t her place to pry. 

“Where were you?” asked Yaz cautiously. 

You licked your lips and swayed a bit, shifting your body weight from one foot to another, “Ah– you know,” you looked up at her, voluntarily avoiding meeting the Doctor’s eyes, afraid of what you might find in there. “Prison is not as bad as they think. It’s a tad boring, food isn’t great. It’s slimy, but all in all, it kept me alive.” 

The Doctor’s hearts ached for you. “I’ve been in prison,” her voice came out firm, despite the clear emotion in her eyes, “so no, I don’t believe you for a second. Prison is terrible. It’s lonely. Cramped and quite smelly. Days go by and you feel powerless, useless. You lose yourself in places like those.” 

You swallow at the firmness of her tone. A tear slides down your cheek. She was right. It had been Hell to you, but you managed, you had no other choice. Her eyes softened; drawing closer she reached out a hand to wipe your cheek. You shivered. Oh- how you had missed this. Was it embarrassing to admit you had been touch starved? That the last time you hugged someone was when the Doctor was still with you? “And you–” she trailed off, “something tells me you didn’t deserve to be locked up.”

You lifted your chin and met her eyes. Your smile didn’t reach your ears as you muttered, “what gives?” 

“Can’t explain,” she replied. “It’s a feeling. My gut is telling me there’s good in you.” 

You hummed softly. “Is it because I saved you and Yaz?” you mused, eternally grateful for the hint of a smile she was giving you. 

She chuckled lightly, “You got ten points for that by the way. Plus, you’re our friend now. Isn’t she, Yaz?”

Yaz smiles so genuinely, the dimples on her cheeks showed up. “Absolutely.”

Friend. That was something, wasn’t it? And it didn’t even take much to get there, having started as a total stranger. This version of the Doctor made her look like a cute and loyal golden retriever. Playful, friendly, a bit of a dummy sometimes and always ready to contribute. You never thought you could love the Doctor more than you already did. Perhaps it was a good idea to start over, build your friendship from scratch. Could you do that? Definitely. For her, you’d open up the galaxies. Staying in the shadow was pure bliss if that meant breathing the same air again. 

“But you still have to explain how you know our names,” she adds, arching an eyebrow at you. There’s playfulness in her eyes and in her tone. 

You chucked, “I s'pose I have to.” 

“The TARDIS let you in. And if she did, it means…”

You looked around you, a nostalgic light brimmed in your eyes. You still remember the day you and the Doctor stole this spaceship. The euphoria of having conquered something only yours to use, had been thrilling. Originally, the TARDIS belonged to the Division, but it was damaged, and for that reason, left in some kind of stock with other rubbish and mechanical supplies. But you and the Doctor fixed it, after a couple of months, or years, it didn’t even matter to you, because you bonded like nobody else. And when you two started traveling with it, nobody noticed the TARDIS’ missing, simply because it wasn’t one of the Division’s official spaceships. 

“She knows you,” Yaz continued. The lights of the TARDIS flickered from bright yellow to a warmer hue of orangish. It suited you, that light. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, and hummed softly, feeling the warmth of the TARDIS as a velvety caress on your skin. 

“You’re very perceptive, Yaz. I get why the Doctor likes you so much,” you teased, with your eyes still closed. The Doctor’s cheeks turned into a darker shade of pink. 

Yaz opened her mouth to reply, but her words died down in her throat before she could even think of what to say. Was it so obvious that the Doctor liked her? And that she liked her back? Even for someone that has just met them? Apparently so. 

The Doctor stared at you, all of the sudden a tad bit uncomfortable. To possess such a knowledge meant being exposed and vulnerable. And the Doctor hated to feel that way.

“You talk as if you’d been spying on us.”

You squint your eyes, as if all of the sudden, the Doctor started speaking another language. “Not spying,” you objected. It was frustrating to stand there and be treated like you couldn’t be fully trusted, whereas in the past, you had been the sole trustworthy one. You stiffened and took your hands out of your pockets. “My intention all along was to make sure you were okay. It’s all I ever wanted.” 

The Doctor thought for a second. A wave of guilt flashed through her eyes, as those softened, “can you tell us why?” 

You hesitated, looking back at her like a lost puppy. “I don’t think it’s right,” you muttered, voice broken. Your eyes mirrored the confusion of the Doctor. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have–” you felt dizzy, frantic. Your voice trembled as much as your form while you spoke. 

But the Doctor wasn’t having any of that. “No, hey, it’s okay–” she cooed, her hands coming resting upon your shoulders, in the genuine attempt to reassure you. She mentally scolded herself for having been so pushy, without giving you proper time to collect yourself. Your hearts were beating so fast she feared you were on the verge of a panic attack. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t trust you. I know I can. You helped us and I can’t simply brush that aside. It’s just…” she paused, briefly glancing at Yaz, whose gaze was encouraging. “Yaz and I have been through so much lately and I can’t help but worry about a new danger lurking in the shadows. Ready to catch us unprepared. But you’re nothing like that. Quite the opposite, I think.”

The TARDIS buzzed softly. Yaz couldn’t understand what she was saying, unlike you and the Doctor. She figured by the small giggle that slipped from your lips, that the TARDIS said something funny or accusing aimed at the Doctor. 

“She acts like she knows you well” she later reasoned, “And if she does, it means–” 

You inhaled sharply and hesitated, averting your eyes from her to the tip of your boots. How could you sum up everything in a few words? How could you look into her eyes and tell her you had missed her for entire lifetimes. 

“Tell me, please…” 

Yaz watched you nibbling on your bottom lip. The emotion veiling in your eyes was raw, as if spilling those words out would mean putting salt over a freshly open wound. “Can I tell you something, Sage?” She muttered kindly, reaching up to you. Feeling her standing by you, you turned your head and nodded wordlessly. 

“I learned my lesson the hard way. Hiding my feelings from the Doctor thinking it was the best choice,” she muttered, with a tight smile. “And even if we can’t have what we’d like to share, for all kinds of reasons, I don’t regret for one second having told her how I feel,” a tear slipped down her cheek at the confession. You blinked slowly, trying hard to swallow the lump that just formed in your throat. Her pain was very similar to yours; she was in love with the Doctor and even if she couldn’t have her the traditional way, she was willing to stay by her side for as long as time would grant her. And that was enough. 

The Doctor’s eyes turned glassy too. She pressed her lips in a thin line, nodding slowly, almost mechanically, “I can’t really tell my hearts what to feel, because they are so full of love for Yaz. I vowed to protect her and to stand by her for as long as I’m allowed to exist in this body, and even in the next if she will have me,” Yaz smiled at that. “I can’t give her what she wants, nor what she deserves in matters of human relationships simply because I’m not a human. Time will catch up on me, eventually. And when that moment comes, it will hurt.” 

Bravery is knowing something will hurt and doing it anyway. A wise person once told the Doctor. 

You thought for a moment. It made sense, in a way. Their relationship didn’t need any label, simply because it existed beyond any of those. That was, in your opinion, the most beautiful confession of love. The truest manifestation of it in its purest form. Yaz wasn’t ready to let go of the Doctor as much as the Doctor wasn’t ready to say goodbye any time soon. Never been good at goodbyes anyway. And Yaz, oh– she was brave. Probably the bravest human you’ve ever met. 

Does it still count if you said she is the first one? 

“That’s to say…” Yaz continued, placing a hand upon your shoulder. “That whatever you feel you can’t tell the Doctor, in truth you can. Plus you owe it to yourself. There’s nothing worse than living a life filled with regrets and what ifs.” 

“I know, I understand–” your lids fall shut for a second and when they reopen, the Doctor is met with a pair of puffy and red eyes. It only took you a second to crumble. But you allowed no tears to wet your cheeks. Not yet. Not ever if you could help with it. It was too soon anyway and if you started tearing up now, then it would be impossible to keep talking and make sense of everything. 

“But I think,” you blinked, and forced a tight smile, “I need a cuppa. Don’t you want a cuppa? My throat is dry,” you rambled while the Doctor and Yaz exchanged a curious glance. 

When you started moving towards one of the corridors, as if you knew every path like the back of your hand, the other two followed behind, calling out your name. “Do you even know where to go?”

You hummed in thought, “Should be here, right?” The Doctor realized you weren’t talking to any of them, but with the TARDIS. The blue box buzzed and lit up a series of lights to guide you over the kitchen. A grin curled up your lips, “I thought so, thanks,” you continued, “Second door to the left and then right and then– oh,” you come to a halt when instead of the kitchen you find a cozy library, “Is this new?” 

A pang of nostalgia hit the Doctor in the stomach at the sight of the room. She leaned against the doorframe and stared at the slouchy couch in the middle of the room. Everything smelled like paper and leather in there. 

“The TARDIS made this room for one of my friends, she was a teacher.” 

“Clara,” Yaz whispered, and she nodded her head. 

“Oh,” you gaped, in awe. “It’s beautiful. Love a good book, me. And there are plenty of them here,” you commented quietly. “The kitchen used to be here, so I presume it moved elsewhere. Maybe next door?” 

“Sage, wait, please,” the Doctor grasped you by your wrist, before you could flee away from her again. Her fingers curled around your skin, that felt warm and incredibly smooth underneath her fingertips. You sighed, but listened to her. You didn’t even like tea, to be honest. You were more of a coffee type of person. The Doctor would know if only she remembered you. “The TARDIS knows you, she let you in, and you act like you have known me forever, but I have no memories of you. Only recently I found out what the Division did to me, taking away from me a speck of a life I didn’t even know existed, nor how big that was. And when I look into your eyes, I feel drawn to you in a way that feels both terrifying and right. And I’m not saying that just because you’re a Time Lord. I kind of feel all my past regenerations, those I have no memory of, were there with you. Am I wrong?” 

You promptly shake your head. No, she was hardly ever wrong about a thing. It brought a small smile upon your face, that somehow eased the Doctor’s hearts. You sniffed and adhered your palm against the corridor of the TARDIS, “We fixed her together. It was challenging, but so much fun. You were still working for the Division at the time. I wasn’t. Never did. You couldn’t share much of the things you did for them and with them, despite wanting it so much. I think I asked everyday,” a watery chuckle escaped from both yours and her mouth. It felt like a sense of familiarity was coming back to her. You loved it. “You were always so patient with me. No matter how insistently I kept asking you what you were up to with the Division, you never let a single word slip out,” she hummed, still smiling softly at you. It did sound like something she would do. Especially to protect those she cared about. “Eventually I stopped asking and respected your privacy. And now, thinking back to it, I’m so glad you never told me anything” you bowed your head as the Doctor listened to you in reverent silence. Same did Yaz. You couldn’t hold yourself anymore, and tears started spilling down your cheeks at incredible speed. Your breath hitched. 

The Doctor’s hands came cupping your face, her fingers getting wet with your tears. “Sage, it’s okay…” She looked at you with a pair of eyes that held nothing but affection and comprehension. You sniffled. “If you had told me, they’d have wiped my memories too. They chose prison, instead. There, I had time to think. So much time. I erroneously used to believe you had been blessed with memory loss because at first I was suffering so much. You can’t miss someone if you don’t even know that they exist, right?” 

Yaz’s heart tightened in her chest at your words. She had thought the same thing once. She regretted it later on, but that thought still had crossed her mind once or twice. 

“Then it hit me. I couldn’t live a life, believing it was normal to think a person so special like you never existed. The thought of you kept me going. Doc.”

The Doctor’s chin quivered. She gasped helplessly, and blinked repeatedly to ward off the tears clouding her visions that kept streaming on her face. 

Her hand slid from your face to your shoulder, then reached out to your hand, hesitantly clasping it in hers. She took in a long breath, “for how long?” 

At first you didn’t understand, so you frowned. How long, what? 

Anguish dimmed her features. She started to question her own decisions of keeping her past in the past and you being there was one of those reasons. You suffered her absence, while she kept on living her life like you never existed, never mattered, never touched her hearts. And that was wrong. Cruel. Because you did. She could feel it. Maybe you had another face back then, surely she had too. But that didn’t matter. You were still you in your hearts. And so was she. It was exactly why you never stopped looking for her.  

“How long have you been in prison? How long have you missed me? How long have you suffered because of me? How long have you been searching for me? How long have we known each other? How–” The Doctor was frantic. And you were taken aback by her outburst. So was Yaz. She couldn’t stop talking. Rambling. Panicking. 

Perplexed and rather shocked, you opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t master a single word out of you. The Doctor kept asking you questions over questions. She was mad, not at you, but at herself, at the Division, at whoever did this to her and to you. It always ended up like this. In the end a life with her meant only pain and suffering. 

You stumbled backwards, a wave of dizziness at you. Yaz caught you, “Doctor, calm down…” 

“Calm down?” She almost laughed. “How can I calm down, Yaz?” 

You cleared your throat, and then advanced towards her again. “It doesn't matter anymore. I’m here now,” you lifted your hand, allowing it to cling to her coat. 

“Except that it does, Sage,” she insisted, eyes wide open. You held your breath. “Just tell me, how long have you been in prison because of me.”

You inhaled sharply. “Not because of you,” you argued, the determination in your eyes didn’t falter, despite your voice coming quite faint. “Never because of you, you hear me? I’ll not let you take the blame.”

“Please,” the Doctor wasn’t one to beg, yet here she was now. 

You dropped your hands over your hips. “About seventy years.”

Yaz’s face turned white, “Oh God-” she muttered under her breath. 

The Doctor’s mouth twisted into a painful grimace. It felt like she had been run over and over by a train. You didn’t come here for that. You didn’t mean to add to her sense of responsibility. 

“Doctor, that’s nothing for a Time Lord and you know it. We are immortal.”

She snapped, “doesn’t mean we can or should endure everything!” 

It had been unbearable for her to spend about thirty years in prison, but unlike you she had hope. If it hadn’t been for Jack rescuing her at some point, she would have lost her mind. The thought of her fam waiting for her, remembering her, kept her hoping. What hope did you have, instead? What kind of foothold did you have for yourself? 

“Doctor, it’s okay,” you insisted. 

“No, it’s not okay! Don’t tell me it’s okay when it’s not!” 

You gulped and moved your hand from her coat, up to her cheek, where another tear was slipping down, thick and warm. “Fine, it’s not. It was not. It was pure Hell. But I resisted. I never gave up because I knew sooner or later I’d have found you again. And I did. That’s the only hope I ever needed. It was enough for me.” 

Reluctantly, almost fearful, the Doctor eyed you through her wet lashes. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you,” she pursed her lips and you smiled at her sympathetically. You took a step closer to her. It was your turn to be strong, your turn to reassure her, to tell her that it was okay, because truth be told, it really was. 

“Hey,” you lifted her chin by placing your finger underneath. She sniffled and closed her eyelids to get rid of those itchy tears that kept welling up in her eyes. “I said, hey,” you playfully nudged her arm,  and she chuckled. Yaz was chuckling too. 

“Hey,” she said back, smiling with her eyes. 

“I’m here now, am I not? If you’ll have me, I can help you remember who we were. No pressure at all. Or,” you rolled your tongue behind your teeth, “we can start over, I’ll become your friend from scratch. New me, new you.” The Doctor was considering it, motionless. It’s not that she didn’t want to be your friend, because she wanted to. more than anything she wanted to know you, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny the fact that you knew her deeper, and better than she would ever know herself. 

Maybe that’s what she wanted too. All in due time. You saw her silent request in her eyes, as a free pass to do your next move. Stretching out your arm, you smiled politely at her, still adding a hint of silliness in your tone, because that’s who you were, “Hiya. Nice to meet ya. I’m the Sage. And you are?”

The Doctor couldn’t help but chuckle heartily at that. She could accept that for now. Like Yaz had accepted traveling with her despite knowing it wouldn’t be forever. That’s what love was. Effort, sacrifice, every single day. 

“I’m the Doctor, and that over there is my friend, Yaz,” she smiled and squeezed your hand. 

You nodded your head, happily, “Nice to meet you too, Yaz.” 

“Likewise, Sage” she chuckled, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve. 

“Can we have that cuppa now?” The Doctor asked, her voice still thick with emotion. “Isn’t it how we welcome the Fam?” 

“It is,” she agreed, walking past you. In the moment, she brushed your hand with your fingers. 

You grinned, and before she could disappear in the kitchen, you scrunched up your nose, “I actually hate tea. Can I have coffee instead?” 

The Doctor draped an arm over your shoulder, while Yaz nodded her head, wordlessly. 

The Time Lady scooped you a bit closer, her smile widening, as you let out a surprised giggle, “I’m glad you found me.” 

“Me too” your cheeks flushed with the colors of hope, the exact same colors she was proudly showing off on her tee. 

Hope, what a beautiful thing to hold on to.

[nevermorgue]

I'd love to hear your headcanons with Ada and Annabel and Ada and Wil. Their relationships interests me, and I'm curious what you have in mind with roommates, and two people who find admiration in the same guy. (Hopefully two in the same ask is okay--)

Okay, you’re so right. I do love both of those dynamics a lot. And of course I’ll do two, I love these

Ada and Annabel

- It’s complicated. Annabel finds her irritating, but she wouldn’t wish for anything bad to happen to her. Ada envies Annabel terribly, but admires and respects her greatly.

- Ada keeps begging Annabel to help her try the rag curl method out, but Annabel is trying to drag it out because she knows it won’t work with Ada’s hair type.

- Annabel hates how Ada tries to flaunt her ‘friendship’ around like an object. It’s how she was treated when she was alive; pretty object.

- Annabel had to resist every urge to roll her eyes when Ada told her she could ‘have Prospero to herself now’ once she got with Montresor.

- Ada tried to take her tea the way Annabel does but it was far too bitter. She sneaks sugar in when nobody is looking.

- Ada loves walking with her in the garden, pointing out flowers that ‘her darling would definitely pick for her’. Annabel is so tired of it, but she puts on a smile and goes along with it.

- Annabel has woken up to Ada hyperventilating/crying. She usually pretends to stay asleep, but on one occasion she actually sits up and offers comfort. Ada refuses to tell her what is upsetting her, wiping her eyes and insisting a lady would not react like this. Annabel says nothing to that.

Ada and Will

- cannot get along. They’re too similar, and they both hate it.

- Will is passive to literally everyone but her in canon. He talks back to her all the time. I think he sees her on his level of pathetic.

- They will tell the other that Montresor doesn’t care about them, even though they both know deep deep down that it’s true on both ends

- Will is further in denial than Ada. Ada kinda knows what she’s doing + pursues Montresor in a time of vulnerability. She wants to like…see someone as messed up as she is. Meanwhile, Will is just desperate for someone to call a friend.

- Ada finds out that he writes and insists that she is made into a character. So he makes a very ugly, evil hag.

- She tried to use ‘Fear Itself’ on him and couldn’t find one thing. It kept changing, as if his brain couldn’t decide what was worse.

- She was genuinely uncomfortable seeing him wear her face for the first time. It was too accurate. It made her wonder how often he’s watched her to be able to do that.

- Ada laughs in his face and jokingly says he probably turns into her to pretend that he gets Monty’s romantic attention too…and he can’t even deny it.

- They have a big fight after that. Ada always hits harder.

- They really cannot even sit in a room together alone without arguing unless someone is supervising them.

- Will remembers when she complimented her eyes. One day they’re just existing in the same room and he just quietly goes, “…did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“When you said my eyes were nice.”

And then Ada is confused- when did she say that? When she remembers, she ends up speaking without a filter.

“Duh, gray is a rarity for eyes you know.”

And that’s the only time they can ever truly speak to one another because Montresor is such a heavy blanket over them both that he’s the factor that keeps them from forming any sort of bond.

[zmb1eslut]

Luke Castellan x hypnos!fem

tags: non-romantic relationship, fluff, Luke's pov.

summary: Luke Castellan was found by the way out his nightmares.

1,6k words

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Luke remembered it quite clearly, the night in which the whole... something between them came to be what is now.

He was sweaty and drained, being the only wishful thought he felt brave to feed, for the air to reach his lungs so he could run a little further. He had lost all his will, and he was now running on the only thing stronger than his determination, his fear.

Both Titan and kid could feel it, that night he was fated to succumb to the torture. His mind had already given its last pleadful breath when his foot tripped and his face met the floor. And he now cannot phantom the thought of how different his life would be if he hadn't lifted his head, she hadn't been there.

Luke saw her sitting, with a blank expression on her face, looking down at him. His hand reached for her never expecting to actually be aid, she took it and pulled him towards her. Once they were close to each other she said to him in a bizarrely sweet voice "Your screams were getting too loud". That was the last time the girl acknowledged his presence, as well as the last time he felt that sort of fear.

Somi kept rescuing him like that every night. She never explained why. Luke never asked her either. He would only sit there in what he guessed were the girl's own dreams, and wake up in the morning with just a thin grasp of the events.

Most things about the dreams (and the dreamer herself), were awfully confusing for the swordman-boy. He felt like she looked at reality with an eager infatuation, like she knew that guy better than the arbitrary rules that defined him ever could. Being inside her mind perhaps was making a number on him. Perhaps that's why she at some point stopped posing as the spacey buzzed girl everyone meditated with at times, and held herself in a homely sort of normality he developed a liking for.

She showed a part of her no one else ever saw. Altough it would probably be more precise to say she eventually stopped hiding it. Being honest with himself, Luke admitted that he toyed with the idea of him having found her.

She acted exasperated, bored, mean. She behaved like any person he would never mistake for her on the other world would behave. Their exchange right now was especially out of character.

She had entered his dream, as every night. She stepped in front of him and pushed his shoulders down, when he fell, he was met with the softness of a bed. Tonight's dream was apparently on a room. "Sorry for the mess." She said to the boy's surprise. He wasn't opposed to a change on their routine.

"Kinda used to it and all." he said. She answered with an understanding nod. "Did anything happen?" the Hermes boy asked just to keep this anomaly alive, to which she sighed.

"Evan just left." Curiosity flourished on the boy's throat.

"Like the real one?" the girl took way too long to answer and started stroking his hair while she thought.

"No... the dream one. But I'm pissed at him. And that's a naptime dream" she answered as if it was obvious. Even more questions arose, so she explained "Those are the dreams you aren't supposed to watch." Huh...

"What dreams I'm not supposed to watch?"

"You know, Castellan." she really meant it, he didn't had a clue. She got close to him to whisper teasingly, even knowing no one would really be able to hear. "The inappropriate ones" Oh.

He understood fast though, making sense of what teenager needs usually were. "I was naive on that one, wasn't I?"

"I mean..." she said chuckling while walking away from him. She sat down on a chair in front of a desktop. The place was humorously colorful.

"Ok. But like... Evan? Does that happen often?" He asked almost gossiply.

"I mean! Not anymore! He's a total prick." that made him laugh.

"Is he?" Luke asked, enjoying seeing her so annoyed, especially as he wasn't the cause.

"Yes. And you know what? I hate that, I hate this. Cause he goes around just getting the fuck he wants, and then pretends he 'didn't mean it like that'. Then I get mad, and he thinks I'm pretty when I'm mad, and I get pissed off when he says that, and then I'm horny when I'm pissed. And you know what? He doesn't deserve horny me." Sometimes she just was that unexpectedly honest. Luke just listened amused. She looked up and let out a frustrated groan. "And now I have to take care of you." That made him laugh, but he didn't want her to know that.

"C'mon I'm not that difficult" he pretended to be offended.

"No. But right now you're truly inconvenient" He put his hands up in the air as his sign of surrender before laying down in the bed. She stayed silent for a minute and Luke almost thought they went back to normal. The girl usually was quiet and still, looking lost into the air, or, only the contrary, highly invested in a task and barely paying him attention. Now she was neither, the chair was slowly spinning with her wearing a childish expression. She controlled every aspect of every scenario he had observed, and even when she didn't feel like going strong at it, she would prove her domain by popping something for him to distract himself. He took note of that when he saw a ray of sunlight entering the window, leaving a path she was now following in his direction. She was standing in front of the side of the bed again. "Sit." she said, way too used to having control over here. And, listen, he wasn't about to oppose an emotional all powerful being. Once he stood straight, she st looking taller than him, barely. She supported her arms on the top of his head. And sighed again. "I hate men".

"Oh, they are terrible" he teased.

She stayed silent for a bit, he was just being used as a table. Then he heard her. "What do you think about... weird". He understood perfectly.

"I've met so many demi kids, that word just simply lost meaning at some point"

"Ok, then..." she took a step back and looked at him now, lowering her head a bit. "do you consider me pretty?" He took a second to look at her, then shrugged and nodded. "Great then... tell me when to stop." She said while sitting on his lap, with both her legs at his left side, and reaching for his left hand. The girl held it against her face and started nuzzling against him. He couldn't ignore the thought that her actions weren't sexy at all, not as much as they were needy. She was like a cat looking for attention, and he truly didn't mind. He lifted his right hand to caress her hair, and she gave in to the touch. She had closed her eyes and moved the hand of her face down to her outer thigh.

His strong hand gripped her skin, almost performatively. He flirted using a lower voice. "What do you want?" his nose under her jaw, his breath against her neck.

The answer came only with her voice, as she didn't even bother to open her eyes or explore his touch. "I'll let you know when you're doing it wrong." Moody, bossy, and assertive. This was not more than a game for them. This was just a caprice. What is wrong with wanting things that feel right?

The girl held onto his left bicep and hid her face on his neck. They just stayed like that for a couple minutes. Somi hiding on his arms when Luke faintly felt the scent of her hair.

"Why did you rescue me?" wasn't enough to disrupt the comfortability of their scene.

"I already told you why."

"I wasn't screaming tonight."

Then the silence prolonged itself for longer than he would have chosen. The girl just gently pushed his body with hers, making them lay on the bed, side by side, looking into the ceiling.

"We... don't really know each other." He agreed with the sentiment on silence. "But, we both have been here for years so I know you know me." Of course he did. "And everybody knows you." He felt like he didn't quite know what she meant by it. "Luke 'the greatest swordsman in the last 300 years' Castellan, a born leader whose smile has infatuated half our population of half-bloods, who is always there to help when someone gets hurt."

Luke analyzed those words for a couple of seconds. Apparently not enough seconds. "Do you... like me?" She laughed.

"I don't mean it like that!" She then took a pause and moved her head to look at him, he followed. "What I'm trying to say is. There are so many children looking up to you, learning from your effort, going to sleep smiling because they know you'll be there to protect them, and when they fail... you don't make them feel like they failed you. I guess for a second I realized how much our spirit was relying on you. I thought maybe you needed someone to rely on too. I'm sorry if I'm making it awkward now." He didn't know how to answer, her eyes on his were feeling heavy for a second so he escaped by closing them. He didn't know how to answer so he just breathed and hugged her, hoping she wouldn't tease him about his heart rate. She didn't. She hugged him back.

[your-ne1ghbor]

Hello, Neighbor! (Insert Welcome Home reference here 🏠)

I'm a hundred years late to this, but it's time for me to drop some questions for "The Kingdom of Thorns and Roses"! (I'm craving more Wish content, do this will do for now, lol.)

How did you come with your AU? Is it inspired from other AU's or something else?

What happened to Asha's family in this telling?

Can you drop a little lore about TKOTAR's Star system?

Who's your favorite character to draw in your AU?

Are any of the Teens in this story, are they sent to the oblivion? 😂

I know you mention that Flazino is possibly in your AU, but uh…..is he still alive or actually dead? Cause WG!Flazino can't vent to a dead guy. 😂

Any original characters in here besides Bonsai?

Which other Wish AU's would be some of your favorites?

Are all the songs from the movie included in your story, or us it just certain ones?

How long do you think your story is going to be?

How would TKOTAR!Asha would interact with WG!Asha? (She does have some trouble making friends though, lol)

Any hints for the ending?

Out of questions, but I'll give you a hug! 🤗

OMG QUESTIONS AHHHHHHh🦈🦈

1. How did you come with your AU? Is it inspired from other AU's or something else?

I was inspired from a lot of works! I think what really made me actually GET INTO rewriting Wish was "Alicia and the Kingdom of Star Light" and "At all Costs" Animatics. At first, I originally was going to have Magnifico and Amaya be like this Gaston/Frollo like characters, but overtime, I didn't see them like that! I think this was because my interpitation of Magnifico in the film was more of the "tragic hero" rather than the "tragic villain". Also Asha at the time felt really boring, and Star felt very hallow, which is why I also had to change that super old draft to something new. Overtime, after watching Owl House, Race to the Edge, Wish...15 more times (watched it I think 30 times total), Hunch Back of Notre Dom, and Epic the Musical, I think some of those aspects of what I liked bled into the story. Example, people comparing Magnus to Odesseous LIKE ITS THE VIBE THEYRE NOT THE SAME PERSON-

Not only that, some parts of the story is actually kinda inspired from personal experience! Mainly with the family part- . . . but nothing less, it more inspired from HTTYD and Owl House lol

2. What exactly happed to Asha's family in this telling?

Well...neither of them are dead for starters.

Probably the only Asha who has a fully ALIVE family 💀🙏

3. Can you drop a little lore about TKOTAR's Star system?

Research ^

4. Who is your fav character to draw in your AU?

Agatha my beloved 💕

I don't even draw her a lot, I just love her design lmao

5. Are any of the Teens in the story, or are they sent to oblivion?

Pfftttt they weren't all sent to oblivion Rascal hehehh

Dahlia, Simon, and Gabo will most likely be the ones to end up in the story, so most of the teens are here.

I have some ideas to how they tie into Asha in terms of how they know her on a personal/co-worker relationship.

Dahlia WAS Asha's friend during the best parts of her childhood, before Asha distanced herself from her. Her arc is best kept secret for story reasons, but I think it is pretty wholesome.

Simon I'm sorta concidering to be some form of body guard while Asha goes into the Market.

Gabo probably will the the "consipiracy person who is actually right" type of guy heh- Also a friend Star becomes close with! (He totally does not teach him how to swear-)

I do want to incorpiate Hal and Bazeema and probably Flazino somehow in the story, just not sure how and what sort of purpose they will serve at the moment.

I still don't have designs for them, but I will soon hopefully :D

6. I know you mention that Flazino is possibly in your AU, but uh…..is he still alive or actually dead? Cause WG!Flazino can't vent to a dead guy 😂

So I guess he is now the Therapist! Flazino in my AU? IS THAT WHAT UR SAYING???? (I love it)

Too bad all the therapists are dead in Rosas because of the incident. No wonder Flazino probably dies from poisining. He knew too much.

Anyways no need to worry for the dead guy in the room that probably wont exist in my AU, the dead do exist as ghosts in some way so WG Flazino can still vent to him lmao

(ghosts cant talk tho (but then again, he drank poison which could have ruined his vocal cords but still))

He is looking out for WG Flazino :D (He was killed by drinking a mYsTeRiOuS LiQuId )

Just realized he kinda looks like Hermes- naurrrr not intentionalllll bc he looks like that bc he ded :(((

7. Any original characters in here besides Bonsai?

OK ROSAS, HERE IS ALL OG CHARACTERS IN THE STORY (THIS INCLUDES REPLACEMENTS)

Bonsai

Agatha

Thomas

Morning Star

Captain of the Guard, NOT PHEBUS (I dont have a name for him-)

Evelyn (minor character)

Atticus (minor character)

Agatha's parents (minor character)

Magnus' Father (minor character)

(what I mean by minor characters, I mean that they wont really show up in the story except in portraits or mentions unless I do a lore video that could include them)

CREATURES:

Dragons

Sirens

THE FUCKING FAIRES I HOPE YOU DIE LIKE KYS

Trolls

Ghosts/Ghouls (Good Ghouls Go Bad is a pretty good movie go watch it)

Forest/Water Nymths

Serpants

Kraken probably

Stars (ofc)

probably will be more

They all probably won't show up in the story, but know that they exist.

ALSO THIS ONE IS IMPORTANT, SO HERE IS A CONCIDERATION I HAD.

Although I am personally not sure if they will ever be in the story, along with Flazino, BUT...HERE ME OUT-

A ATLAS BASED CHARACTER. I MEAN THINK ABOUT IT

In Greek mythology, HE HOLDS UP THE FUCKING SKY??? LIKE??? BRO-

AND HE IS A TITAN?/?? ANDD IT WOULD MAKE SENSE??? KINDA???

Not sure, but I wanna put that there because I think a Atlas based character in a story with a sky filled with Star creatures is very interesting.

8. Which other Wish AU's would be one of your Favorites?

I don't pick favorites between fanfics. I personally love them all and I think a lot of them are really interesting retellings!

Except for the freaky ones

I hate you Hiccup x Toothless fanfic go burn (made me not trust fanfics for a long time💀🙏) (BTW I DIDN'T READ IT MY SIBLING READ IT OUT LOUD TO ME AND WE WERE LIKE 😨😨🐄🏃‍♂️💨)

9. Are all the songs from the movie included in your story, or us it just certain ones?

Certain ones. It overall depends on execution in the story.

Im a star is removed for obvious reasons.

But as I honestly think about musical instruments tieing with their respected characters, I might have to make completely different songs for almost all of them-

OK for what I mean by this...

The 4 main characters, Agatha, Magnus, Asha, and Star have their respected instruments tied to their character. This is due to because a lot of the music surrounding the characters in classic disney had instruments tying with their character or enviroment. Ariel, for example, as more whimsical or wonderous music, as she sings "a part of your world". Unfortunatly, I found Wish's instruments not fitting to how I interepret the characters and went for a completely different route.

Asha is mainly tied with either the chello or violin in my version. "BUT ISN'T THE VIOLIN USUALLY TIED WITH THE VILLAIN??" Thats where I say "Does it have to be?" I want to shake it up a bit instead of the violin being just used for "EVIL", because it can be used to tell SUCH EMOTIONAL beats. Here is a cover of the "This Wish" I found:

And here is the actual song:

OFC, I would personally add more instruments to the violin cover for it to hit harder. I ironically found a "Epic" (not sure if it is to the Epic the Musical or just Epic version lol) version that hit so hard, I felt like I was ascending:

Listening to different instruments PLAYING THE SAME SONG hits a LOT MORE DIFFERENT. LIKE YOU FEEL DIFFERENT EMOTIONS LIKE WHAT-

Also a more prominant example is "Dandalions" by Ruth B.

Here is the original:

Here is the Violin cover (funny enough I listened to this version first before the original. Personally, I think the Violin is better)

If anything, I think the gutair is overused in Disney protagonists, Mirabel had one, Moana had one, and probably more. I just wanted to do something different!

For Star, I imagined the whimsical part of Neverland or more or less instruments that give you that feel, like flutes for example. Or hell, more lullaby! Honestly the best example I can give to show what I am going for is something like:

Maybe even the At All costs instumental tying in both the Asha's instruments and His instruments at the same time can hit more different.

For both Agatha and Magnus, I liked how the trumpets were tied to the scenes they were in, like when Magnifico calls for a meeting and the trumpet plays, I honestly really liked that! But it doesn't have to be trumpets alone! I imagine Magnus/Agatha to have both a electric guitar/piano tied to their characters! Trumpets can be used to enhance the song their singing!

Here is a example (Ik it is a rewrite version, but I think this is a good one!)

Unironically, there is not a lot of villain songs that I know of that use pianos. I think it is because it is more in ties with dispair moments rather than actual villain songs. Doesn't mean that they don't exist, its just uncommon.

Why am I ranting about this? Well, blame this guy:

He is right yk-

Shut up.

You shut up

10. How long do you think your story is going to be?

AT least 2-3 months, possibly more or less. It depends.

11. How would TKOTAR!Asha would interact with WG!Asha? (She does have some trouble making friends though, lol)

Ah both interovernts! My fav.

TKORAT! Asha also has trouble making friends. Its mainly due to her having trouble trusting someone and also some more personal issues (this goes for everyone, not just WG! Asha) I think at first TKORAT! Asha would at first just avoid talking to WG! Asha, until after a while, they have a nice cup of tea and just chat! Def would be Art buddies.

12. Any hints for the ending?

I have no idea. Just a lot of chopped up parts in my head. Probably smth like this:

and probably:

What have I done....WHAT HAVE I DONE-

13. Out of questions, but I'll give you a hug! 🤗

Thanks for the Asks Rascal! 💕

I really appreciate it :D

@signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @rascalentertainments

@spectator-zee @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden

@uva124 @dangerousflowerpanda

[bobbydagen24]

in Defence of Creek ( warning if your an Avid Creek Hater you may not want to read this 😂😂 )

ps. Branch will Hair strangle some guy he Barely knew who he didn't even care about for betraying them but doesn't do the same to his Jerkass Brothers who let him down his whole life 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️.

anyway onto the topic at hand 😂😂😂😂

Creek gets an unfair Rap in my opinion sure he technically betrayed the village but when you examine the story of the first film he literally had no other choice.

as there's no other scenario that didn't end with him being Horribly Eaten as soon as he was picked by Chef for Gristle Jr to eat and taken out of the cage his fate was sealed.

unlike the rest of the snack pack he didn't have the option of sitting around waiting on the off chance Poppy would Rescue them.

we see in the Betrayal scene he was literally in Gristle's mouth before he finally played the only card he could and said he'd do what ever they wanted him to do.

and from then on he was kept in Gristle's locket around his neck which I have to say was Horrible poor guy was stuffed in their with no space or light or even air given how tight it was.

and he was kept there until eventually being moved out of the locket and put into Chef's waist bag just before the snack pack got the Locket from Gristle and were then captured by Chef.

and from that point like Creek himself said there was literally nothing else he could do that wouldn't result in him being killed straight away by Chef.

this is what rubs me the wrong way about the movie trying to make him into a villain he has no real agency in the betrayal it'd be a little easier for me to Judge him.

if he was kept in the cage with the Rest of the Snack Pack so he had the option of just having faith in Poppy someone he claimed to care about.

coming to save them but instead he took the more cowardly action and offered to sell everyone out early on in order to save himself then I feel it'd work a little better.

but having him be plucked from the cage early on and literally only betray everyone when he was on the verge of being eaten just makes him a victim in my eyes.

like I'm sorry but he can't be blamed too much for anything he does at that point he's just a normal civilian who's life was put in danger by negligent leaders ( cough Peppy cough ).

he technically wasn't obligated to die then and there and the whole situation with him selling out the Village is a classic Trolley Problem sure its easy to Judge.

from the outside but when we're on the verge of being gruesomely murdered who's to say what each of us would do in the moment to stay alive.

basically its Chef's actions and she's the one to blame not Creek dude was a literal Hostage who had been kidnaped Humiliated by being shoved in a taco and sprinkled with spicy stuff.

and then nearly eaten and then crammed into a tiny locket for presumably Hours and then crammed into a waist bag like how is this guy not the victim here?

and some people do like to point to how he behaved about the whole thing telling Poppy he's doing it for her but I'm sorry that doesn't change anything in my eyes.

sure its an unusual reaction but its also an unusual situation and I see it more as him weakly attempting to justify it to himself since he does admit he wishes there was another way but is promptly reminded by Chef that there isn't.

his Reaction isn't Great but it doesn't change the situation and make him some pure evil person.

a little autistic maybe? given the weird response to an emotional situation he has but yeah it doesn't make him worse in my eyes.

basically to end things the film as well as the fandom that villainise him seem to basically be saying that he should have just laid down and accepted his gruesome fate the first time.

and the movie even ends on a cruel irony of still being eaten along with Chef.

which for Chef is ironic in a karmic way but for Creek its just kinda sad tbh so the film's saying his death was decided at the start and he's a villain for not accepting it the first time.

and as punishment he meets the same fate in the end anyway.

I thought this was a Trolls film not a Final Destination film lol.

anyway even tho its separate cannon I was Happy when he was Revealed to still be alive in TBGO sure I feel his Return could have been written way better.

but Regardless I'm Glad he's still alive he didn't deserve to die and also the movie cannon never contradicts the tv show cannon in Terms of Creek's survival.

so yeah he could very well still be alive in the movies as well sorry Haters 😅😅😅😅.