#they get each other they hate each other they would kill each other they would kill For each other

[multipleoccupancy]

"I think we need to stay in sight of that guy," Theo said of the orderly still by the door, ready for a fight and not wanting to give him any excuse to decide to go after them or to send others after them. "We can't be accused of anything if so many people can see us," but it did leave them exposed to the other patients as the common room ended up full of people.

A patient repeated the scream "He's dead!" He shouted followed by what could only really be described as a mad cackle before he jumped onto one of the tables and proceeded to start to dance while he sang the phrase merrily. Some patients clapped to no particular beat, laughing along, some were crying and starting to argue with each other. The tension in the room was rapidly rising but it felt somehow better than whatever was in the corridor, someone was wailing and bawling with tears.

Mauve was right, two deaths was weird, troubling in fact. "I think so." He couldn't remember how much time passed between deaths in the ward but two in two days did feel excessive. "This one feels different, something is really wrong." His eyes shifted from the unpredictable patients and to the corridor door way, wanting to know what had happened and who was dead. "Do you think someone killed an orderly?" The whistles had stopped and the shouting carried on and the sheer panic from the other patients who had fled the corridor was out of character. Theo felt himself shaking and his heart racing, not at all comfortable in the situation but he made sure to stick beside Mauve. Whatever was coming they would handle together, right.

One of the orderlies came tumbling through the corridor doorway, distraught as he landed on his hands and knees and promptly threw up all over the floor, making several patients start hollering and laughing. Theo looked at the man and despite hating the orderlies, seeing him so disturbed was horribly unnerving. "This is bad," Theo whispered to her nervously.

"No one goes in that corridor! No one moves!" Ordered another orderly who emerged from the corridor behind the vomiting man. "All of you get down on the floor, lie down on your stomachs, hands to your sides and to yourselves. GET DOWN!" He ordered, pulling out a baton and turning it on with a terrible crackling and then a buzz. Patients started doing as they were told and Theo stole a quick glance to Mauve to encourage her to follow suit.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet followed Theo's example, taking a few steps back until her back was against the wall. The common room was filled with more and more patients as they fled from the corridor, screaming, wailing, and sometimes laughing hysterically. If it was a fight, they'd be participating. No, this was different. She nodded. "Yes, you're right. Let's- let's just stay here... or should we go hide in the kitchen?"

In the chaos of screams and limbs, Violet couldn't help but notice that Cecil was strangely calm. She didn't think much of it -he was a dangerous, unpredictable man. If anything, she preferred for him to stay calm!

A scream confirmed Violet's worst suspicions: someone else was dead. "It's happened again," she whispered, pale as a sheet, "two deaths in two days... that's a lot, right? Even for the ward?" Had Cecil killed someone? Was that why he was so calm? But he'd been in the common room this whole time!

[forever-rogue]

Your fics kill me and bring me back to life queen! Requesting Joel and fem!reader almost dying from a clicker attack; Joel and her end up getting blood stained, give each other a bath in the same tub, and talk about what’s to come.

AN | This concept is both so sad but so soft ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 1.9k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Both you and Joel were covered in blood, guts, and bits of brain. 

You’d been doing your best not to cry, trying to remain somewhat composed but it was hard. The tears were welling up in your eyes but none of them had managed to roll down your cheeks just yet. You were fighting them back; you knew that once the tears started it would open the floodgates and all the pent up emotions would come right out. 

Joel, meanwhile, looked almost…fine. Not fine, but not like you, ready to fall apart at any moment. You supposed that he was more used to it, the violence and gore, while you were still fairly…unfamiliar. Admittedly, you had very little ‘real’ world experience compared to Joel. You knew that one day, you’d probably come across the infected, but you hadn’t expected that it would come close to costing you your life. 

Your partner had been all but silent as he sprang into action to help save you while you panicked, screamed, and cried, probably attracting almost everything around you. Joel had remained the image of cool and collected as he took them all down to make sure you were safe. 

Once you were safe and accounted for, he’d hauled you to your feet and started making his way back home, keeping you close behind. Neither of you spoke a word, the silence loud enough to speak volumes. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got back to the home you shared with Joel, you felt like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You closed the door behind the two of you, before leaving against it and sliding to the floor, in a small heap of sobs. You weren’t able to contain the emotions any longer and they all spilled out at once. You didn’t even care that you were dirty and smelly, you just couldn’t be bothered to keep going at that moment. 

Joel had already started making his way upstairs but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard your first sob. He turned back around and quickly made his way over to you, dropping to his knees right to see what was going on.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, reaching for your face and gently taking it in his hands. He hated to see you crying, especially right now, when you had just had a near death experience. Joel brushed your tears away, trying to hide his frown when he noticed all the grime and blood still sticking to your skin. He wished you hadn’t had to experience such a thing; he’d tried to protect but failed. He could have, should have, done more, “baby, you’re alright. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

You managed a small nod, your lip trembling as a few more tears ran down your cheeks. Joel gently shushed you before pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. With the little energy and strength you had remaining, you hugged him back, burying your face into his chest. He held you for a while, letting you get out your tears, and occasionally offering you a few gentle words of reassurance. When you felt like you were all dried up and your throat was raw, you pulled back and looked at him with puffy, red eyes and a forlorn expression on your face. 

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I swear it.”

“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name, “I…today...it was horrible.”

“I know,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, his heart hurting for what you had just been through. He’d gone through it enough times himself and had gotten to the point where he had become almost numb to it all. It was a horrible thing really, to become so desensitized to actions that had once been considered carnage. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much to say and he couldn’t just turn back time, “it becomes easier over time, but I don’t want it to become easier for you. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

“But,” you looked at him with wide eyes as you grabbed his hands and held them tightly in yours. You’d been so caught up in your own woes that you hadn’t even considered how Joel could have been feeling, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he offered you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that didn’t quite feel genuine, “I’m alright.”

“Are you?” your question came softly, whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He paused for a moment before hanging his head and giving it a gentle shake. You breathed in softly and exhaled through your nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug, squeezing him with everything you had, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he murmured softly as he buried himself in you, breathing in your soft scent and allowing it to wash over him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After a short while, you slowly untangled yourselves before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. You were almost desperate to get the dirt and grime and whatever else was on your body so you could feel like a human again. 

When you got upstairs and into the bathroom, Joel immediately turned on the shower, getting it just as warm as you liked. He turned to you, slowly and reverently starting to peel off your clothes. You lifted your arms as so he could remove your shirt, a small sound escaping your lips as the cloth stuck to a few of the superficial wounds you’d managed to obtain. It already felt a million times better just to be free of your shirt, which was quickly followed by your bra. 

Joel’s touch was gentle as he undid the button of your jeans before helping you to step out of them and kicking them to the side to get them as far away as possible. Your underwear was next and you left standing there naked. It didn’t matter though; just shedding the layers allowed you to feel a million times better.

You wiped some of the grim from your face before motioning for Joel to step closer to you. He did so, his face becoming more gentle as he watched you. You reached for the hem of his henley, slowly pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of your clothes. Your lips pulled into a small frown when you realized that his ribs and shoulder were already starting to bruise. You trailed your fingers softly along his skin, tutting under your breath.

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he insisted, which you knew was only for your benefit, “nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you insisted, reaching for his belt buckle and slowly undoing it before and tugging his jeans down his legs. Joel pulled down his boxers before kicking it all away, “I already feel better. Just having the gross clothes gone.”

He made a small sound in response before pulling the shower curtain back so you could get inside and under the warmth of water. You let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the warm water cascading all over your skin. Joel stepped in after you, shoulders sagging with relief that the day was over and that you were both home safe. 

“C’mere,” he grabbed your shoulders and tenderly traded places with you. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand before moving to wash your hair. You tried to ignore the water that was running off your bottles and red swirls that ran down the drain. It was over and you were okay. Joel started to lather the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp just how he knew you loved. You had to work to keep in the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth at the feeling. 

He worked in silence for a while as you tried to relax and forget about the horrors of the day. It was when he was about halfway through conditioning your hair, you realized that tears had run down your face. When you stepped under the water to rinse your hair, Joel wiped away your tears, which managed to bring the smallest smile to your face. 

Once your hair was washed, you went to reach for the bar of soap but Joel beat you to it, working quickly to get your body clean and wash away the rest of dirt and grime that had been left on your body.

“Thank you,” you whispered softly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. The two of you stayed that way for a while, until you felt yourself start to get pruney, “come on, handsome. It’s my turn to get you all clean.”

Joel knew better than to argue with you, and admittedly loved getting his hair washed just as much as you did. You took your time to make sure he was just as clean as you were, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck. At one point, he took your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless. You let him hold you until the water ran cold and both of you were ready to get into pajamas and get into bed. 

Once you got out of the shower and dried off, you stole a shirt and a pair of boxers from Joel and slipped into them before getting into bed for some much needed rest. Joel followed suit and quickly joined you in the bed, letting out a groan at the comfort of being clean and in bed with you. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm frame so he was your big spoon.  You put your hand on top of his and offered it a gentle squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded, “thank you for protecting me today. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I might be-”

“Shh,” he cut you off, “don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. We’re here now, safe.”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat in an effort not to cry, “I’m glad for that.”

“Me too,” he promised, “me too.”

It wasn’t long after that until you both managed to fall asleep. 

[witchesverse]

please, don't.

pairing: agathario x reader

summary/request: you're an inexperienced witch who tried to stop her coven from executing agatha. after agatha kills them, rio appears, and that is how you meet the loves of your life. once you and nicholas die, agatha and rio part ways, only to see each other on the witches' road.

content: character death, getting shot, blood, crying, begging, angst without a happy ending.

masterlist

a/n: erm so im not entirely sure if this what u wanted but this is what i wrote anyway :> icl this is not what i normally write so if it sucks that's why lol

1693

The forest was typically quiet, the only sound being the running of water and the chirping of a bird. You loved the quiet, though. After living in a busy, loud village for most of your life; the quietness was peaceful. Plus, it gave you a chance to practice your witchcraft without someone screaming in your ear about it. But, it sometimes got lonely.

So, when you heard the loud screams and cries of a woman, it peaked your curiosity and you crept towards it.

One half of your brain was blaring alarm bells. This could easily be a trap that you were foolishly walking into. But, the other half of your brain told you that there could be someone in danger and you couldn’t not help them.

Your eyes widened. There was a group of women standing around a small stage with a woman tied to the pole in the center. The scream must have come from her.

“You stole knowledge above your age and you practiced the darkest of dark magic.” One of the women spoke. “You will be executed for your crimes, Agatha.”

Even before you started practicing witchcraft, dark magic had always been an interest for you. You had dreamt of learning dark magic and becoming a powerful, twisted witch. Now, this was your perfect chance to learn dark magic and your teacher was about to be executed. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You were positive that these witches had centuries of witchcraft on you, but that didn’t stop you from throwing an attack spell at them. You impressively managed to hit 3/6. The three witches that you hit fell to the ground and squirmed in pain.

Unfortunately, you were blasted into a tree by one of the other witches. You groaned. You felt like all your bones had been snapped in half. 

Two witches lifted you to your feet and dragged you in front of the oldest looking witch. She was angry.

“Who is this pathetic excuse of a witch?” She asked.

“The hell did you just call me?” You roared. “I’ll snap your fucking neck.”

Your threat was empty. You had never inflicted such damage against a person, but you hated being called a ‘pathetic witch’. You preferred the term ‘inexperienced witch’ or ‘baby witch’.

“I’ll deal with her after this.” She waved her hand and you were dragged to a tree, hands bound behind your back with magic.

You couldn’t believe it. You had lost your chance of learning dark magic and now, you were probably going to be killed. That is beyond embarrassing.

You flinched as Agatha was blasted with six beams of magic. Normally, that would kill a person immediately, but she didn’t die. She screamed in pain but with horror, you watched as their blue beams turned purple and they had the life sucked out of them.

Their lifeless bodies slumped to the floor. “Holy shit.”

Agatha sighed, stepping down from the stage and looking contently at the dead bodies of her coven members. You accidently snapped a twig underneath your foot as you moved towards her, causing her attention to snap to you.

“You tried to save me. Why?” She asked.

“You’re unique and that interests me. Not many witches practice dark magic anymore and I want you to teach me.”

Suddenly, you felt an uncomfortable and cold feeling wash over you. You glanced around the forest until your eyes landed on her.

“I must say, that was quite the performance.” 

The woman moved towards Agatha and you. There was an unsettling feeling about her - something not human. 

“And you are?” Agatha questioned.

“Rio Vidal.” She bowed dramatically. “And I think we’re going to make a perfect team, baby.”

1815

You scowled and crossed your arms. You had been trying to successfully do this spell for the past 5 months, but you haven’t been able to. It frustrated you that you couldn’t do it.

Agatha kissed the top of your head as she walked past you. “You’ll get it at some point, sweetheart.”

You noticed the basket of fresh strawberries in her hand. “What’s that for?”

“We’re having a picnic.” Your eyes lit up and she smiled. “Come on. Grab your coat, it’ll be cold.”

You walked for 20 minutes until the thick trees faded and you walked into an opening. It was beautiful. You followed the trail of flowers that led to the edge of a cliff, the strong smell of wet grass and salty seawater combined with a nice breeze made you smile.

“There are my girls.” Rio sat cross-legged on one of the cushions on the picnic blanket and smiled at you. She patted the cushion in the middle and you sat down.

There were different types of fruit, baked goods, and drinks spread around the blanket.

“When did you plan this?” You asked.

Agatha sat next to you and placed her hand on your thigh. She always put her hand there; she said it made her feel at peace.

“A few weeks ago.” She answered, grabbing a grape and popping it in her mouth. “We figured you deserve a reward for doing so well in your learning.”

You kissed both of their cheeks. “Thank you.”

For a while, you talked and ate with them whilst looking out into the ocean. You excitedly pointed out every marine animal you spotted in the waves, which caused Rio to spew facts about them. After being around since the start of death, she had many nerdy facts about animals.

Once the sun had started to set, you became sleepy. Your head was resting in Rio’s lap and she scratched lightly at your scalp, lulling you to sleep. Agatha sat with her head resting against Rio’s shoulder and they quietly talked.

You sighed happily. Sometimes you thought about what your life would have been like if you didn’t try to help Agatha. You wouldn’t have met Agatha and you would’ve first met Rio once you died. 

Suddenly, there was a loud scream.

You all stood and became very aware of how exposed you were in the opening. There was silence for a few moments, then there was another scream and a gunshot.

“You need to go.” Rio shoved Agatha and you towards the forest.

“What’s going on?” You couldn’t hide the panic in your voice.

“Witch hunters.”

Your heart dropped. Lately, there was an uprising in witch hunting, but you thought that you lived far enough from a village that there was no risk. Clearly, you were wrong.

Agatha grabbed onto your wrist and dragged you through the forest. You shook in fear with each gunshot and scream you heard. Even though your girlfriend was Death, death still scared you.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

You froze and Agatha cursed loudly, shoving you behind her. A man stood in front of Agatha with his gun pointed at her with a sick, twisted smile on his face.

He pulled the trigger.

You don’t even know how your body reacted that quickly, but you managed to step in front of Agatha and took the bullet straight through your heart. You dropped to the ground, blood spurting from your chest.

Agatha screamed and blasted the boy with her magic, leaving a blazing hole in his stomach. His lifeless body collapsed. 

“No, no, no.”

Agatha turned you on your back. There was blood dripping from your mouth and your chest. She couldn’t feel a heartbeat.

“Agatha.”

Rio stood next to her.

“Shut up, Rio.” She snapped. “Please, shut up.”

“Agatha.” She said more sternly. 

Agatha shook her head. “You can stop this. Bring her back to life.”

Rio sighed and crouched next to your body. She tried to brush your hair out of face but Agatha slapped her hand away.

“Do not touch her.” She spat. “You bring her back to life or you don’t fucking touch her, do you understand me?”

Rio stood, her face emotionless. She stared at Agatha, almost like she was waiting for Agatha to change her mind, but once she realised there was nothing more she would say, she left.

1887

Agatha cried out in pain and leaned on a tree for support. After carrying her child for 9 months, he was finally ready. With tears falling down her cheeks, she prepared herself for birth. 

She was finally going to meet her boy. 

Then, she saw the familiar figure.

“No, please.” She cried as Rio stepped towards her. “My love, please don’t do this to me again.”

Rio didn’t reply.

“You took Y/n from me. Please give my boy, I need him.” She begged. “I will hate you forever if you do this.”

Rio swallowed. “I can only offer time.”

And so she did. Agatha birthed a healthy baby boy who she named Nicholas, and he lived for six years until Rio took him. Once again, Agatha’s heart broke and she was left alone.

2026

Since the death of Nicholas and yourself, Agatha and Rio weren’t in contact. Agatha hated her with every fiber in her body. Rio, on the other hand, missed and craved Agatha with every fiber in her body.

So, when Rio was summoned to The Witches’ Road, the exact place where Agatha stood, they both felt strong emotions.

“Agatha,”

It was quiet, besides the occasional snores from Alice. If you were there, you would have considered it to be peaceful and relaxing. 

“I know you’re awake, Agatha.”

Rio carefully stepped over the sleeping bodies and sat in front of Agatha. She rolled her eyes when she saw that Agatha had her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

Rio flicked her forehead. “I want us to talk.”

Agatha glared at her and sat up. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Rio grabbed Agatha’s collar and tugged her forward. Agatha tried to recoil but Rio kept her close. 

“Yet, there is.” She insisted. “They wouldn’t want us to be like this. Y/n would want us move on and continue living the perfect life that we had.”

“Don’t say that. You have no idea what they would want.” Agatha scoffed.

"Do you seriously think that Y/n and Nicky would want us to live with anger and hurt for each other?"

Agatha didn't respond.

Being this close to each other, Rio noticed small details about Agatha’s face. There was a small scar under her left eye that hadn’t been there before, and she wondered where she got that from.

“It broke my heart to take both of them from you. I did not enjoy watching you cry and beg, but-"

Agatha cut her off. “Once we get off The Witches’ Road, I do not want to see your face again. I want you to leave me alone, do you understand?”

Rio felt her heart break and she blinked back tears. She released Agatha from her grasp and stood. If Agatha truly didn’t want to see Rio’s face again, she would respect that, no matter how bad it hurt her.

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 6/?

Some light word-building, and a try at explaining a little with reader's thinking/worldview. And of course, a soulmate :3 Next chapter in about a week(+/- a day)! (AO3) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn

Wordcount: 2506

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

It’s been a week since you saw either of them. 

Your soulmates. 

You don’t like them being that, you could call them something else you suppose. But calling them their names all the time is more of a mouthful, and though you gave them nicknames before you learned their names, giving them new ones seems worse than just calling them what they are. (Even as much as you hate it.)

The ache in your shoulders and upper back has settled to a near permanent thing now, only fleeting relief for the for the briefest of moments if you massage the area. 

You know why it doesn’t fade, but you don’t want to admit that to anyone, especially not Evelyn when you visit her for a check up, this time at home in her and Olivia’s apartment.

You wonder how many other people have to bring brownies to their doctor appointments as you ring Evelyn’s and Olivia’s doorbell outside the building. To be fair, not everyone else’s doctor works as a veterinarian and has a wife that would kill you if you didn’t bring them (not really, but sometimes you think Olivia is certainly capable of doing so). 

Said wife is the one who buzzes you in, and greets you in the hallway just outside their front door with an enthusiastic yell of your name, and a hug that makes you let out a small grunt of pain that you try to hide in favor of hugging her back with the arm not currently holding onto the strap of your backpack.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re a wounded man, come in, come in, Evelyn is just setting up.” Her beautiful dark and curled hair bounces as she heads to the kitchen, and you follow her after making sure the front door is closed behind you.

The kitchen table is covered in towels, towels you know are specifically for this purpose, since none of them are the cute patterns Olivia loves. You also know that underneath there’s cling wrap covering the table, for cleanliness and just in case. It hadn’t been often you had been on this kitchen table instead of the clinic table, but the procedure Evelyn has around it isn’t unknown to you. A lot more organized than what Wade’s and Logan’s had been. 

You banish the thought of them from your mind as you put your backpack down, dipping your hand inside to fish out the box of carefully wrapped brownies out, and present them to Olivia. She gasps at you, almost yanking the box out of your hand with how fast she takes it.

“Sometimes I swear it’s like you are my second soulmate.” Your stomach swoops at her words, and you make a face. She knows and disagrees with your view on soulmates, so you know it’s a friendly jab, and normally you wouldn’t have cared, but this time it hits something you don’t like.

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes at her, focusing on Evelyn instead as Olivia goes to put her treasure away. “Ready for me doc?” Seems to be the perfect time to ask that question as Evelyn puts gloves on and pats the table. 

“Up you go.” You do as asked, hoisting yourself up. You take your shirt off, balling it up, putting it under your head as you lay down, getting comfortable. “Feeling fine?” Evelyn starts to peel your bandages off, slowly and carefully.

“Yeah. They seem to be doing fine, in my non-medical opinion.” She hums, and you know she’s taking your words into consideration, but it won’t really matter much before she has had a look herself. You let your eyes stay open, watching the ceiling as you hear Olivia putter around the kitchen, and feel Evelyn poke around your wounds.

Nasty couple of things. Well, they had been. You have been surprised nothing had gotten infected, you had no idea how well Wade took care of his swords, how nasty or not they were. But well, to be fair to him, if you had gotten an infection, your makeshift bandages would have been just as likely a culprit.

“Looks like you won’t die anytime soon, but they’ll still leave some nasty scars behind.” Evelyn offers, seeming to be done with her inspection of you, as she changes gloves, and starts applying new bandages. You shrug, you figured out much. Nothing cuts that deep without leaving behind a mark.

Well, unless you are a super healing mutant. Even after you had tried multiple times. Both with a katana and a gun.

Should you even feel bad for hurting your soulmates like that when it was done when in panic but with the knowledge it would heal? And you got more permanently hurt?

And to be fair, Wade had knocked you out before you ever hurt them after realizing they were your soulmates, so it wasn’t like you hadn’t been hurt, but you shot them both. Caused them more pain.

So maybe you are all a little beyond messed up. 

Made for each other, like that soulmate shit implies.

You shake your head at that thought, dispelling it into the ether, which gets you a weird look from Evelyn as she finishes with your bandage.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping right.”

“Chest pain?” Her hands hover near your chest, but move away as you shake your head.

“No, shoulder and upper back, think I’ve accidentally pulled something.” She frowns.

“I thought I told you to not work out or put unnecessary strain on your body as you heal.” You know what it’s from, and it’s definitely not that.

“I haven’t been working out or lifting anything heavy, I promise. I’m just an old man.” You joke, she rolls your eyes at you as you sit up, taking the glass of water Olivia offers you.

“Let me know if it keeps up, and I’ll see if I can’t figure out what it is, and get you something for it.” She can’t know and won’t be able to get you anything, but still you nod.

“Am I allowed to put my shirt back on Doc, or do you just want to ogle me some more?” You joke, this earns you a slap on the shoulder by a now gloveless hand just after Olivia hands you a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Thought you were making pasta?” You get off the table and take a bite out of your cookie as Olivia smiles at you, and Evelyn starts cleaning up.

“I am, but good patients get rewards.” 

“What am I, five?” You joke, Olivia reaches out as if to take the cookie out of your hand, you take a step back. “I prefer your cookies over any stupid little toy.” Olivia’s smile is bright, and if you weren’t gay and she didn’t have a soulmate, she could have been your type. She turns around, planting a kiss on Evenlyn’s cheek as she passes her on her way to grab ingredients for the dinner she is going to make for you all.

You lean on the kitchen counter and munch on your cookie, mindful to stay in the background and out of the way for them both as they move around each other with ease. Evelyn cleaning up medical supplies and the makeshift sickbed, Olivia starting to cook dinner.

You don’t want to bring up your soulmates with either of them, since you know their stance on it all is opposite of yours, since they are themselves soulmates. You’ve had plenty of arguments about this both drunk and mostly sober. You think soulmates make one vulnerable and just bring misery in the end, they think it brings strength and that you should enjoy what good you can have in life.

So you know they would just tell you to go to your soulmates, and be with them. 

For the rest of your life. 

Ugh.

You’re fine on (mostly) your own, thanks.

—---

This time, when the universe decides it’s time for some light fuckery, it’s Logan. On his own. And it’s not while you are working. 

Not that it makes it any better.

You are taking it slow, the bar you find yourself in isn’t the fanciest thing, which suits you perfectly. The tables are mostly clean and the floor has seen better days, but they have several types of beer on tap and in bottles, a pool table, and even two shuffleboards. All in all, very casual, somewhere you could sit alone, or join a random group playing one of the games. If money sometimes exchanged hands, both between players and spectators, nobody gave a shit.

You had been a few times before, always enjoying yourself. You’re not even drinking this time, sticking to soda as much as you want to have a proper drink. You had just needed to get out of your apartment, and though you long to feel the burn of alcohol pass over them, you know it won’t heal any faster, so if you can just keep from drinking for a little longer, you can get back to the normal state of things quicker.

Well, as normal as they can get after the universe decided to change the core of your life. You were not one for company, at least not permanently.

Currently you are sitting at a table, watching two long bearded and bald men play pool, making snide comments back and forth. You had made a bet on the man with the scarred ear, but he is losing, pretty badly.

Oh well, 20 bucks isn’t the end of the world.

What kind of feels like it though, is when you spot Logan walking into the bar. He’s wearing normal clothes this time, just some jeans, boots, and a green flannel. He glances around the bar, you duck your head in the hope that he doesn’t see you.

You don’t hope for long though, as a very full glass of what looks like whiskey is sat down next to your soda, and the chair on the other side of the table becomes occupied.

“Logan.” Your uttering of his name in greeting is icy, your name falling from his lips are decidedly less so.

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, feeling your shoulders ease up. Which annoys you so much, he’s just arrived, and he’s already making you feel better. You want to go, to leave, even as your loosening muscles reminds you that staying for a little bit will stave off side effects of your unfortunately shared bond. 

“Drinking.” He grunts, taking a sip of his glass. You roll your eyes and look at him for a few moments, head swirling with thoughts. You settle on one, just to have something to say as you stall and try to figure out how much time you need to feel more than just a little less shitty, though you can’t help but be actually curious as you ask.

“Can you even get drunk with your healing shit?” Logan frowns, and you wonder if that’s his default. You don’t ask about that though.

“With some effort.”

“Why the fuck even be in a bar then?” Your tone is still not kind, even as you  feel your shoulders ache just a little bit less, like you had just massaged over a good spot. He shrugs.

“Company I guess.” It’s your turn to frown.

“I have no interest in being company. Get away from me Logan, or I will make you go away.” You know you should stay close longer so you can also stay away longer, but you are still stubborn, not wanting the fuckery that is soulmates. 

At least if you just stay in the same room, it should help, you think. 

You hope. No need to stay close in the slightest. 

He takes you in, quickly glancing at you from top to toe.

“I -“ You don’t let him speak.

“What did I just say Logan?” He scowls at you, you glare back at him, but let him speak when he opens his mouth this time.

“I don’t like it.” Logan reluctantly admits as the scowl stays on his face. “This being the way we are going about things.” He clarifies.

“Though shit.” He tilts his head at you, scowl turning into more of a squint.

“Are you always this combative?” You feel like a street dog on high alert, barking in warning. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Look-” And when barks don’t work……

“You had your warning.” You say as you grab your knife from your left leg. You stab it into his hand, aiming for the skin between where the claws go through his hand, hitting the jackpot as red seeps around the knife and the tip of it burrows into the table. Seconds later there is warm and sharp metal pushing your chin up. You grin and waggle a finger at him.

“Nah ah, mortal, remember?” You twist the knife around once for good measure, making him grunt in pain, and then pull it out of his hand. You already know you are banned from this bar for life, but you don’t care. His claws retract, this time you realize it actually makes a sound. Huh.

“So you are always this combative.” Logan grits out between his clenched teeth, as his hand heals itself, leaving behind nothing but the blood that spilled out where you stabbed him.

“Fellas, time to go.” A bouncer suddenly stands in front of your table now, a t-shirt with security over his chest in big white letters. He’s huge, towering over both you and Logan, arms ready at his sides, eyes flicking between the two of you. You see Logan seize him up, and for a moment you wonder if he is going to fight the man, but his eyes go to you as you get off your chair.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You put your knife away. “Again, fuck off Logan.” You show him the finger as you walk out. He’s just steps behind you, clearly no longer welcome in the bar either, but he keeps his distance as you both go out of the door. 

You have no idea where he's going, and you have no plans now, so you start walking in the direction of home.

After gaining some distance, you look over your shoulder. You don’t want to be followed. Logan is standing just outside of the bar, looking at your retreating back, but he takes a step forward as your eyes connect with his. You show him the finger again as you disappear around a corner.

You rub your forehead as you are out of sight, annoyance cursing through you. You think some of it might be his.

Fuck, you wish you could get drunk right now. Well, you could, but it wouldn’t be good for your healing. And you have no idea how bad or good your control over your bonds are when you’re drunk.

Just another thing for future you to figure out, you guess.

[anarchywoofwoof]

they are hypocrites. everyone is aware they are hypocrites. but it's disingenuous to make this argument. what is actually being said is "i hope all of the bad things that could possibly happen under a Trump administration happen to you" and that's no less demented than saying that about someone who voted for Kamala Harris. you're supposed to be better than them.

the point is that this entire statement and 99% like them since election day have been based off of a sentiment that basically originates from "i hope you and your family get deported" or something equally evil. presumably, you voted for Kamala Harris. how would you feel if a leftist told you that they hope the military breaks into your home, kills and sexually assaults your whole family because of who you voted for? Kamala Harris supports doing that in Israel. is it okay for me to wish that upon you? you voted for it. it's what you chose. do you deserve that level of violence and hate in return?

this kind of discourse is pointless. wishing the worst on each other, playing the blame game, making your neighbor the enemy. what does it do besides make people resent you even more? people should either present a solution to these people's material problems or stop talking because they're making things worse.

[ree-dee-art]

Honestly, I must admit that I'm not too fond of fan artists changing/headcanoning Harry and James to be as desi/dark skinned. I personally think the Dursleys are far more despicable due to hating on someone not because of skin color/racial prejudice(because then they would've no doubt hated Kingsley), but because someone is not their definition of 'normal'/ looks & acts not to their standards. It's already stretching it with race changing Hermione and making her a big target of wizard prejudice on muggles. And it also kills the prejudice Lily faced, because she's still fair skinned.

Initially, I was just going to respond to this by encouraging anon to go touch some grass.

However, I feel somewhat compelled to respond, because there is just so much to unpack in this single nonsensical message.

Firstly, I honestly don't get a whole lot of asks or messages in general, so receiving this one out of the blue was a bit wild for me. The nature of fandom itself allows for and embraces a plethora of different interpretations and headcanons for any given character. In many ways, this is the beauty of fandom--to take a beloved character and ask "what if?" I have no problem with someone having a different interpretation of a character from my own. What confuses me is this person's method for expressing their opinion. Why are you anonymously sending this to a stranger? Why not make a text post on your own blog about it? Like...what is your goal here, anon? I'm an artist who draws what I enjoy, and sometimes I share these drawings in the hopes that someone else might enjoy them too. Not your vibe? Not my problem. Go find some white Harry artwork to appreciate, there's plenty out there. Were you hoping I would change my own interpretation and headcanon of Harry or Hermione to fit your own? Lol, tough luck. No one is stopping you from drawing your own pictures.

All of that aside, your reasoning for your preference of having characters like James, Harry, and Hermione not be POC is incredibly confusing to me. You said you believe the Dursleys are "far more despicable" for hating Harry not because of skin color but because he didn't match their "definition of normal." I have a few follow-up questions regarding this (wildly inane imo) take:

1. Does this mean you believe the Dursley hypothetically also hating Harry because of the color of his skin is in some way less despicable than them hating him because he can do magic?

2. What exactly do you think racism is, if not "hating someone because they don't match your definition of 'normal?'"

3. How does Hermione being black and muggleborn erase the discrimination Lily faced for also being muggleborn? Do you know that intersectionaily exists?

Some of the most interesting creations I've encountered in the HP fandom (fics and art) explore the complexities in the intersections between racial discrimination, white supremacy, and pureblood fanaticism. And there truly is so much to explore in these themes (for example: ways in which Harry could have been separated not only from his loving family, but also a part of his culture. It also allows for interesting and more complex ways for Harry and Hermione to bond and relate to each other in their friendship, etc).

For me, more diversity within these characters (whether it be race, queerness, or anything else) allows for much richer storytelling and much more interesting characters. If that's not your jam, then perhaps my work isn't for you.

However, I will say--this message is very much giving "only white characters and muggle discrimination allowed!!!" and I encourage you to ask yourself why that is the only context for these characters you feel comfortable with.

But seriously, go touch some grass.

[rabvan]

the most awful thing about thoschei is that they love each other.

they were childhood best friends. one of them murdered for the other and changed the trajectory of their lives forever. they grew up to hate each other, they’ve spend hundreds of years fighting and exchanged an amount of “please, join me” and “over my dead bodies” that’s honestly a little embarrassing. they hate each other so much (“how could you kill?” “how could you cure?”) but there’s no one else who knows them as well as the other. it is familiarity at first. i know you, and i will keep knowing you, and maybe hating you is comforting enough. the time war happens. if they didn’t understand others, they certainly don’t now, last of the time lords as far as they’re aware. if that wasn’t enough, one of them finds out the other is this deity so far out of their worldview (“above” them) and shatters.

and THAT. that’s what hurts. because if they were rivals, it would just be unfortunate. you are stuck with the person you hate the most, but you find other things to do, and they show up sometimes, and it’s fine, you leave them to their own devices. there’s a whole universe to see, after all. it’s possible to keep your distance. you don’t have it in you to care.

except you do care. you love them. you’ve loved them through every regeneration that it might as well be written into your artron energy. you need to be as close to them as the universe allows, so you plan to kill them as an excuse to see their face. and it is an excuse. if you really wanted them gone, you could have killed them off by now. for all your elaborate, stupid at times, schemes and silly costumes you are remarkably clever, and if you’re being honest with yourself, the costumes are just a way to get their attention. because you love them. even when you don’t want to. you like it when they look. you burn cities so they’ll turn their head.

sometimes you find yourself on the other side of the equation, and you love them. you love them so much it kills you over and over because you keep giving them a chance. you keep begging them to run away with you, and they won’t, and they never will, and you carry hope anyway. it kills you and kills you because you love them when you shouldn’t. you see it in every companion’s face. your empathy for them has gone past your usual savior complex into something raw, something ugly, something you keep hidden away between your two hearts except for when they’re in front of you and it comes pouring out. you love them. you wish they made it easier.

[canonically47]

i don’t like how almost the entire fandom is on jimmy’s ass but loves curly. while jimmy undoubtedly did worse things, curly PROTECTED HIM. you cannot stand there at your computer and type straight-faced about how ‘jimmy is a horrible monster!! ...but curly could treat anya sooooo well’ like HUH??? this game is NOT about how jimmy is the worst person alive ever WITHOUT also the message of curly being AT LEAST half as bad.

because HE KNEW. and i think this is also beautifully represented through his design. he chose to turn a blind eye to anya’s struggles, HE CHOSE TO NOT SEE, and then, after the crash, he found himself with one eye constantly open, FORCED TO SEE. and by god did he see. he saw, first-hand, how protecting his absolute bastard of a friend led to the death of the entire crew and their prolonged sufferring. i saw one person suggest that the scene in which swansea kills daisuke could be from curly’s POV since it aligns perfectly with the hallway and the look he would get of the scene.

so curly, who once always protected his friend and turned a blind eye to his misdemeanors, is now forced to see these terrible events unfold firsthand. because guess what? it’s about half of curly’s fault for these events jimmy creates. because he could have prevented so much if only he wasn’t part of this toxic culture of males protecting each others from the consequences of their own actions.

now before i get any angry comments or reblogs: i do not despise curly. i do not even despise jimmy as a character. i condemn their actions 110%, ESPECIALLY jimmy’s - but i think they’re such deep and shockingly real, raw depictions of humans that not only could, but DO exist. as concepts and characters, i admire wrong organ for their bravery to create them into existence - and i hate them as people. again, they are representatives of the toxic culture males have in which they protect each other (“my buddy couldn’t have raped/SA’d/etc her because i know him and he wouldn’t do that!!” etc etc.) and it is so upsetting but so necessarry to witness this. i just wish the fandom would be willing to witness it fully, not just go “FUCK JIMMY” “so sorry you had to draw jimmy” while simultaneously pushing out curly x reader or saying shit like “curly just wanted everyone to be happy :(” “curly would treat anya better” etc etc.

this is such a raw and real story once again ruined by a fandom whose minds are rotted by hehe hot man, toxic yaoi, and amatonormativity. and yea that sounds funny when you read it but so many of the messages of the game are ignored in favor of all the above. i’m tired of it!!!

TL;DR: i condemn both jimmy AND curly’s actions and i think that you guys should not give curly a pass for protecting jimmy. if you’re going to call jimmy a horrible fucked-up monster, acknowledge that curly enabled him time and time again. also stop shipping people this is Not That Kinda Story ffs (from a tired aromantic)

[meeludrawz]

New Rehab Program - Pt 4

A/N: Hey if you wanna get tagged, just tell me! Cuz life makes me update slow, rip

Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of you being badly injured, mention of death, also you hate the Twilight saga

During the next couple of days, Shigaraki was oddly 'clingy'. Not physically, but he was always following you around like a dog or cat.

You were watching tv? He was there, sitting on the lazyboy, playing on his phone while sometimes, looking at what you're watching too.

In the kitchen? He was there, sitting on the kitchen island, still doing his own thing though.

The only times he wouldn't follow was when you were in the bathroom, or your bedroom. During those moments, he'd stay in his room. WITH HIS DOOR OPENED. He never closed it now!!

You didn't really understand that sudden switch in him until you decided to examine his behaviour.

From what you had observed, he was clearly grateful to be freed from this collar. That was an easy guess though because the day when you removed it, you put it on the counter. Guess what? Next day there was only a pile of dust left there.

It made you smile, because in all honesty, you would never put it back around his neck. He wasn't a wild animal or caveman with rabies.

You quickly realized that, him following you around, was his own way of saying that he appreciated your presence. Though, knowing his personality, you knew he'd tell you the opposite.

He was still quite silent but at least he didn't ignore you when you asked or talked to him.

You were more than glad to see all this progress when all you did was being kind and patient to him. Even if there was still lots of work to do.

"She should dust them both" Shigaraki hissed at the tv.

You had been bored and had decided to rewatch Twilight. Tomura was still on his phone but he was clearly more focused on the movie. You didn't like this saga but you watched it to see his reaction, to see if he disliked the franchise like you. Was it some kind of therapy? Not really, it was more like bonding time. So far, his reactions were hilarious but you kept your laughs inside.

"Why does Jacob has screen time? He should be a background character only" The white haired man hissed again.

At this point, your show wasn't Twilight anymore but Tomura.

"Why does Jasper keeps staring like a fucking moron? I want to kill him." He went silent for a few seconds. "Is Bella a fucking zombie? She has no emotions" He growled before adding. "If she's a zombie, that would fucking explain why she smells weird to them"

Your laughs escaped your mouth without your consent but you couldn't stop them.

Shigaraki snapped his head in your direction and raised a brow. "Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry it's you- You're just funny, 'cause I agree with you" You wiped your eyes, sighing with a smile.

"Was this a therapy?" He growled in a very low and menacing voice.

"No, I was bored and thought it could be fun" You chuckled and shrugged. "I like judging that saga with my friends"

"I'm not your friend" Tomura frowned.

"Maybe, but it's still fun, right?" You smiled.

Tomura narrowed his eyes as he stared at you, probably trying to decipher how the gears in your brain worked.

After that, he stayed silent for the rest of the movie. Even if his mouth was shut, you could read his body language. He hated that movie and that was an amusing sight.

During the week, All Might, Eraser Head, Tsukauchi and some of your bosses showed up.

You were all sitting at the dining table. Shigaraki and All Might sitting at both ends, right in front of each other. As if they were kings of some kind. Well, Tomura was trying to look intimidating but All Might? He probably just took the first chair he spotted.

As a normal civil, you'd think that everyone was pissed at each other but as a therapist or as someone very observing, you knew how to decipher people. All Might was nervous, Eraser Head was on his guard, even if he hid it quite well, your superiors were angry, Tsukauchi was calm but intrigued while Shigaraki was fuming. He hated those people.

What about you? You were nervous, sitting there in the middle of this silent war. And also because you removed Tomura's collar without anyone's permission, oops. Oh and with the help of All Might on top of that….

Tsukauchi spoke first. "I will ask some questions to begin"

You nodded and dared a look in Shigaraki's direction, he was glaring at Tsukauchi. He knew he couldn't lie, because he knew the cop's quirk and that must be pissing him off.

"Have you two been manipulated to remove his collar?" The officer clicked his pen, turning to you and All Might.

"No" You and All Might shook your heads and Tsukauchi wrote something down before turning to the 'ex-criminal'.

"Have you manipulated them?"

It took a few seconds before Tomura only shook his head, clearly pouting at the officer's quirk. Tsukauchi could detect lies.

"Were you trying to hurt your therapist before your collar reacted?"

"Yes" The white haired man narrowed his crimson eyes.

Tsukauchi didn't seem surprised. "Why?"

"Because they were pissing me off"

Ha, yes, Tomura's famous excuse over anything really.

The inspector noted something before turning back to you. "Has he tried again?"

You shook your head.

Tsukauchi nodded before looking at your superiors, telling them that his part was done.

One of your employers sat down in front of you with a menacing frown. "Now, why did you remove his collar? Do you know the risks?"

Ah, there it was. The one million dollar question. You gulped as you felt everyone's eyes on you but not Tomura's. He was glaring at your superior. But why? Wasn't he interested into what you were about to say?

"Because it's inhuman, because he is NOT a wild animal with rabies. He is NOT a do who has to be put on a leash. He is HUMAN. No one should treat a human like this, it's unfair and cruel. Sure he probably did-"

"Nah, I never put a fucking collar on anyone. I just used handcuffs on that young brat and even removed it from him before he fucking decided to attack me."

"We're not talking to you, Shigaraki" Eraser Head frowned at the man.

Shigaraki only raised both his hands in a 'defensive' way and scoffed.

You decided to continue.

"Yes I know the risks. He can be dangerous, he has free will, like any of us. But I strongly believe that for example, forcing someone to eat when they don't want to is a very bad idea. Just like how you guys forced him into this therapy and forced him to wear the collar."

Everyone stayed silent as they registered what you said.

Oh fuck-

Maybe you spoke too much?

But before you could worry, a huge hand was softly put on your shoulder, All Might was smiling at you with pride and comfort in his eyes.

He was probably thinking that you were the perfect therapist for Tomura. That choosing you was the right choice.

You had only under 5 years of experience and yet, people liked you because you made the therapies different. And for some reason that you ignored, people had started talking about you and it had eventually landed in All Might's ears.

So when he showed up at your workplace, you were speechless. He had asked you, THE symbol of peace, had asked you to help him.

That day, you led him to your office, thinking that he needed therapy. He wasn't there for himself, but for Tomura Shigaraki.

At first, you honestly couldn't understand why he wanted to save the 'apprentice' of his now deceased, arch nemesis. Well no, All Might was known to help countless of people no matter who they were. But then he had revealed you something intriguing. Nana Shimura. Tomura's biological grandmother. Who was no other than All Might's mentor.

Again, you were speechless so you had let him continue. The way he spoke about her, she was a mother figure to him. It clicked in your mind. He wanted to save Tomura because he was family to him, because he felt a mountain of guilt on his shoulders for not being able to be there for the ex-villain.

Frankly, you weren't supposed to let your feelings decide as a therapist but this case touched your heart. You wanted to help. But also, if a criminal as bad as Shigaraki was open to get into therapy, wouldn't that mean he wasn't as bad as we think? Plus, that meant you could help fixing society, right?

You sighed with a smile and glanced at the white haired man.

The villain was staring at you as if you had just confessed that you were an alien sent on Earth.

You chuckled. How great would that be? No more crimes. Just peace and happiness. Sure it probably sounded like an impossible dream but hey, if you could save THE Tomura Shigaraki, you would be saving thousands of people, right?

Your superiors and the Pro Heroes discussed together about this whole 'collar removed' situation.

They weren't really happy with this but the heroes (mostly All Might), had taken your side. You were quite surprised that Eraser Head and Tsukauchi seemed to believe in you too. Again, hella surprising, but much appreciated.

You watched them leave with their cars as you stood in the doorway. Once they were away, you walked back inside and closed the door.

Tomura was still sitting at the table, staring at nothing.

"Are-" You remembered that he disliked being asked if he was okay. "Tomura? You're staring into the void"

He didn't react.

Hm, what could you do?

Ah right! He was obsessed with video games, from what you observed. Hell, you didn't even need to be a therapist to find that out. You decided to speak his 'language'.

"If you keep doing this, you'll start glitching and crash the game"

Tomura finally glanced at you with a scoff. You smiled, happy to see that it worked.

"Never been this close to Eraser Head.." He mumbled.

"Are you a fan?" You genuinely asked.

Shigaraki's face scrunched up as he frowned. "No"

You nodded, you weren't going to ask more so you only headed to the living room.

And just like the past few days, he followed a few seconds later. He plopped on the couch and grabbed his phone while you turned your favorite console on. You picked a new game.

After an hour, you weren't far into it but it had piqued Tomura's curiosity as he often looked up at the TV screen. You were struggling with a boss.

"Don't"

You didn't listen, you were stubborn when you had an idea.

"Dodge! Just- Damn it! What the hell are you doing??"

"I AM dodging!" You replied back.

"No you're not, hand me that!" He leaned towards you and reached for the controller. But you stubbornly refused and stretched both arms away from him, while still holding it.

Did you forget that he was also stubborn? Yes, yes you did. He almost climbed on top of you to snatch the god damn controller.

"Tomura! I can do it on my own! Go away!" You tried pushing him back to his place with your foot but as you both stretched further to keep, (or grab) the controller, you dropped it on the floor.

"HA! Dibs!" The white haired man jumped off the couch to snatch it.

"No!" You quickly grabbed his shirt and he fell on you.

It hurt, you both groaned then immediately froze when you realized, with wide eyes, how close your faces were from each other. You both stared at the other for what seemed like an eternity. He leaned his face closer and closer until your lips were just an inch away. You were short circuiting and shut your eyes hard, panicking a little.

Suddenly his weight was gone.

You opened your eyes, letting out a breath that you'd been holding. Your heart was also pounding, ready to break your ribcage while Tomura was sitting on the floor, in front of the tv, like nothing happened. He didn't seem to give a shit either because he had snatched the controller when you closed your eyes.

But- What happened?

Your cheeks were red and you felt like the room had suddenly become warmer.

Seriously- What the fuck just happened??

Blood

Everywhere

All around you

Shigaraki was holding you tightly against him, screaming in rage and agony. But why?

It was your blood

Your stomach had been shot and you were unconscious… Or dead? In his arms.

He was in pain too, but not physically. He only had small scratches. But his heart? It felt like someone had stabbed it

The young man closed his eyes as he cried. But why was he crying?

And when he reopened his eyes to look at you, the first thing he saw was his pillow that he was clutching against him. It quickly vanished into dust so the villain sat up, confusedly looking around. He was in his bed, right next to his gaming desk. He was back home, but how? Oh right, a dream. The white haired man glanced at the dust on his bed. He didn't care about his pillow right now.

He stood up, Tomura couldn't understand that weird dream. Why was his heart pounding in his chest? Why was his eyes felt itchy? He didn't like you. Did he? No, no he didn't. It was just a stupid dream. Maybe it was that weird werewolf vampire saga that messed up his brain, nothing else.

And yet, even if it was 2 am, he instinctively walked to your doorway. It was never closed for some reason, so he looked at your silhouette sleeping softly.

The bloodied scene came back to his mind and his heart restarted to ache. He couldn't understand, you were there, safe and sound. Sleeping peacefully. Nothing bad happened to you.

He decided to go back to sleep, but first, he needed to clean his bed.

Why did he needed to check up on you? It was only a dream so of course you were fine. His feelings were dumb, he frowned.

What the fuck did you do to him?

A/N: OOOOOOOH THE FEELINGS HAVE STARTED TO SHOW HEHEHE >:3

Pt 3

[salem-witch-slut]

These Trembling Hands(18+)

Sevika X Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Since Silco died, you hadn't seen Sevika after months of her visits nonstop. When she finally comes back to the brothel, you couldn't help but notice one thing... She looked so, so tired.

WARNINGS: Descriptions of past sex (very minor), breast fondling (also pretty minor), only rated 18+ because dirty things were mentioned. Pretty tame overall. Brief mentions of SA of a minor (TRIGGER WARNING)

WORD COUNT: 4K (EXACTLY OMGGG)

A/N: This is a sequel fic to my Prostitution kinktober prompt. I loved it too much to hang it out to dry. And damn, you guys are eating that fic up. Over 1K notes in 2 days. Bunch of whores, the lot of ya!

DIVIDERS MADE BY @cafekitsune

You had heard rumors of Silco being killed, but that was all you heard of it. You could see from your shitty home terrace deep in the underground of the Undercity. People were scared, things were chaos, and the gangs were at war with each other. Without their leader, the Zaunites were rogue and killed whoever they saw fit. Luckily for you, you weren’t exactly a target as a brothel employee. 

It was more valuable to keep you alive, and everybody knew you were loyal to one Zaunite in particular that even after everything, she’s still as powerful as ever. Still a force to be reckoned with, but does not act unless prompted to. 

Sevika hadn’t been back to see you since Silco’s confirmed death. You simply assumed she had far too much work to do as the leader of keeping the peace between the gangs. Which was insane, because peace talks were never her job.

You hated to admit it… Oh, fuck that, you would scream it from the rooftops. You missed Sevika so bad. You missed her touch like it was what kept you alive. She saw you nearly every single week before Silco’s death and now the only way you know she’s alive is from the whispers on the streets. 

Every day you would come in and hope for her presence, but you were never lucky. You never got to see her handsome face and your body begged for an actual release, or that cool metal from her cybernetic arm. You loved the chills you got from the sharp talon like fingers raking over your rear and leaving marks in your skin. 

God, you missed her. You missed her husky voice, how she held you when you came on her fingers, how she encouraged you to bite her, the praise she gave, mixed with degradation… You were addicted to Sevika, and it was embarrassing. 

The entire staff knew about your obsession with her. She once left a handkerchief of hers in your room after she used it to wipe the sweat from her face and you kept it. Oddly enough, it smelled just like her and you simply enjoyed having it in your presence. Sevika made you feel wanted. Was that so wrong to love?

You kept it with you all the time. You had it in your pocket even as you walked into work that day. 

It was just like any other morning as you entered through the backdoors and got set up in your assigned room that you had, over time, personalized to fit your personality. You had a thing for dark candles and burning herbs that had been known to have relaxing properties. It made your life much, much easier and Babette encouraged it so you wouldn’t need to call out of work once again for your bruised cervix. 

You chewed on your thumbnail as you sat yourself down, prepared to get dressed in your signature outfit of dark colors that the clientele loved, when the curtain pulled back to your room without warning. Your entire body went rigid as you looked up, and your breath got caught in your throat. 

She came back! You tried to not let your excitement show as you stood up from your seat, cursing at your frumpy outfit. Baggy sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt that kept you warm in the dark underground city. Your hair was a mess and you hadn’t done your makeup yet but she barely even blinked as she stood in the doorway. 

“S-Sevika, I–” You stuttered, looking at the cloak on her shoulder and then up to her face… Oh, she looked so, so tired. Her eyes had dark circles under them, partially bloodshot and her cheek was cracked, evidence from the overuse of shimmer from her cybernetic arm. She had a fading bruise on her brow, and healing cuts over her neck and near her cheeks. “Sevika?” 

The tall woman finally made eye contact with you and you watched her toss off her cape and throw it to the floor. You noticed her arm was missing, and there was a frayed wire sticking out of the socket. It looked like it was ripped out of the mechanics on her shoulder as she slowly approached you and made you stumble backwards until your legs smacked into the bed. 

Sevika watched you fall onto the bed, your face turning pink as she let out a long, big sigh and got down on her knees. For a second, you thought she was going to eat you out… But then you simply felt her head rest on your thighs and her arm wrap around your waist. 

“Sevika, are you–”

“I’m tired,” She said, her voice wavering and cracking. You could smell the alcohol on her body and you could feel your heart almost breaking for her. “I’m so… so tired…”

“Oh honey,” You cooed softly, your hands reaching up and gently rubbing at her scalp. The crime lord visibly relaxed, feeling you remove the hair tie from her brown strands as you slid it on your wrist and raked your fingernails over her head. “You must be just exhausted… You’ve been doing everything out there.” 

“Shit never stops,” Sevika pushed her nose into your thigh. “It’s always something… Someone is always getting killed, and I have to fix it. I used to be the one with the blood on my hands, and now I’m cleaning it off someone else’s.” 

“I know,” You said, combing your fingers through her hair. “You’re the best at what you do.”

“What I did,” Sevika scoffed. “Doesn’t matter now… It’s just me holding it together.” 

Words seem to fail you as you simply rubbed at the back of her neck, one hand sliding from her hair and down the back of her shirt, nails crossing over her skin and making the muscular woman shiver in your hold. This was completely different from what you two had grown used to. 

Normally, Sevika would be making you scream at this point. She would stretch you on her fingers and praise you as you pulled on her hair and called out her name like it was the last thing you would ever say. But now? Sevika was too exhausted to do anything… Why was she here then? Why not at her home, sleeping?

You sat there with her for almost ten minutes, simply playing with her hair and rubbing her back. After a while, you could feel her breathing get a bit heavier and you frowned, looking down and seeing how she was almost asleep in your lap. 

“Sevika,” You said gently, feeling her hand flex in your shirt as she looked up and then visibly relaxed at seeing your face. You smiled sweetly before scooting back on the bed and removing your sweatshirt. You flopped backwards in your plain white tank top before patting the space next to you. “Come here.”

“Y-You know, this isn’t what I pay for,” Sevika stuttered, her ears going pink for a second. You had never heard her stutter before! It was adorable. You simply rolled your eyes and reached out with both hands, undoing the fasteners on her shirt. The woman’s breath hitched as she went tense for a second, her hand reaching for your wrist out of instinct. “What are you–”

“Just relax,” You spoke softly, reaching up and sliding the shirt from her body down onto the floor. Underneath was a simple black stained shirt with tears near the collar. You scooted back once again and patted the mattress. “How long did you pay for this time?”

Sevika hesitated as she sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching down and undoing the buckles of her boots. “All day?” 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes and wrapping your arms around her waist. Sevika looked down, used to being able to reach down with her cybernetic arm but now it was simply phantom feelings. 

In seconds, you two were crawling into bed as Sevika immediately wrapped her arm around your waist and pushed her head against your soft chest, basking in your warmth and listening to your heartbeat. 

If there’s one thing you didn’t expect from today, it was this. You were expecting another hard, rough day with no rest and no breaks between clientele, but this was a very, very pleasant surprise. Your hands stayed put, rubbing at her back and holding her forearm that was draped across your middle. You could feel her breathing become more heavy, and you simply looked down before smiling.

She looked so peaceful… Her lips were parted slightly, the gap in her front teeth more prominent as she breathed heavily, a snore escaping her as she dug her fingers into your side. It was then that you realized something. Something that you definitely should have realized before after all these months with Sevika being your favorite client– No, favorite person.

You felt something for her. It went beyond simple affection or fascination with the woman. It was every time you saw her come in. You felt your heart skip a few beats and you were wrapped up in her arms almost immediately. Sometimes she stops by just for an hour, sometimes she’s here for almost four hours. But no matter how long, she never neglected your feelings. 

Sevika was a rough lover, but she was so good at taking care of you, even if her aftercare was slightly condescending. She would wipe you off while calling you a messy whore. She would wrap a blanket around your shoulders while gently slapping your cheek. She would laugh at you as you lay in the pile of pillows on the floor, but still managed to get you water if you asked nicely. 

And yet, even after all these months, there was one line you two had yet to cross, no matter how badly you wanted to. It felt too personal… A big jump between client and lover. Sevika couldn’t possibly see you like that. She pays for this. She has never attempted to see you outside of working hours, and you were sure she could easily find you. Not like you went anywhere outside of work and home and the occasional food stop. 

The thoughts plagued your mind as you watched her sleep on your chest, seeing her lips move as she mumbled something and pushed her face deeper into your tits. You raked your fingernails slowly over her back, being gentle enough to keep her sleeping, but not so light that it tickled and woke her up. You were fully content with being like this all day long. If she paid for an all day session, this would be more than enough to keep you happy. She didn’t even need to touch you to make you happy. Sevika being here was good enough for you.

As the time went by, you could feel your eyes growing heavy with every passing second. You wanted to close them so bad, but every moment with Sevika felt precious to you. You wanted to kiss her. You had never been able to do that before… you wanted to so badly, it was eating at your soul and making your heart race. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and part of you felt like you would throw up, but it was simply eating at you.

Would she push you away? Would she refuse to come back? Or worse, would she retaliate? It felt like Sevika liked you too beyond just a body to play with, but you weren’t sure… Well, asking was out of the question. You knew words would fail you and you would sit there stumbling on your sentences like a moron. This was your only option.

Very carefully, you slid down the mattress and felt her lift up her head so she could rest it on the pillow as you moved. Sevika made a face of disappointment as she opened her eyes and blinked a few times in order to readjust to the soft lighting of the room. From this close, you could see how the candles reflected off her irises and you could see the flecks of purple around the corner from when she would use shimmer. 

She stayed quiet, simply looking at you as you slowly reached down and grabbed at her hand. Her brows creased, seeing your slight distress and scooting herself slightly closer. Her body heat had your breath hitching. “What’s wrong, doll?” 

Fuck, that nickname made your heart flutter. It felt like a rabbit was kicking at your chest behind your ribs as your hand slid up the length of her arm. You could feel the muscles underneath flexing, almost like she was teasing you on purpose. Her body was solid muscle and all strength; with sharp edges and tough skin. You loved every single inch of her. 

“Sevika, I–” You tested your voice, and felt it crack like glass. Your face went pink as the smirk that did reside on her face slowly began to vanish. The silver irises glinted with confusion. She was genuinely concerned now as she saw, and felt your hand shaking as it slid up her arm and carefully rested on her cheek. 

“What are you doing?” Sevika asked, her voice barely above a whisper. You blinked slowly, biting your lip before scooting closer. 

A moment passed, and you simply couldn’t take it. “Screw it.” 

You grabbed the back of Sevika’s neck under her hair and pulled yourself upward, your lips finally connecting with hers. The woman went stiff, her entire body rigid against yours as her eyes widened and she made a noise of surprise. A noise you had never heard from her before. It made your legs press together as you refused to breathe until you separated from her. 

It scratched an itch deep in your brain that you didn’t know was eating at you. It felt like a hot shower after a cold day. It was like breathing after being underwater. It was everything you had expected… Minus Sevika not reciprocating… 

When you broke off from her lips, you saw that she was laying there in pure shock. Her eyes were wide and the hand on your hip twitched as you looked down, refusing to meet her eyes. You were worried now. She looked almost upset with you as you refused to meet her gaze, scared of the repercussions. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, close to sobbing. “I-I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to overstep and I was just– I don’t know what I was–”

Your words were cut off as Sevika gently tucked her knuckle under your chin and tilted your head back up to meet her eyes. And you saw her cheeks tinted a soft pink and her eyes were sparkling. And that was the last thing you saw before she was jolting forward and recapturing your lips like she couldn’t live without it. 

Instantly, your hands went around her neck and you pulled her close, drowning in everything that was the woman named Sevika. How intense she was with every aspect of her life and how she gave 100% with all her actions, and that included kissing. Her tongue gently teased at your lips and you responded with your own, pressing it against hers and slipping it passed her teeth. 

Sevika groaned, grabbing at your hip and pressing your entire body against hers, allowing you to feel how warm her skin felt on your own. It was like touching a livewire; you couldn’t break away even if you wanted. You couldn’t get enough, and you wanted more. So, so much more…

Your stomach twisted in your gut as you began sitting up off the bed and before you could stop yourself, your legs moved until you were sitting on Sevika’s hips, holding her down and breaking off from the kiss for a brief second. 

There was a look in her eyes, almost like she was challenging you. Her brows knitted together as she panted, her hand curling against the bedsheets and her chest rising with each harsh inhale she took. Dear fucking Gods, she was sculpted by deities you didn’t even know existed. Her taut abdomen sucked in with each breath and you saw the outline of her abs through the shirt riding up on her waist. 

Maybe someone else would have been put off with her only having one arm, but you didn’t care. It didn’t diminish her strength, and she could fair fine without it. Even with just a hand, she was able to break you and you would thank her. 

“Someone’s being bold today,” It was that same flirty condescending tone she used with you all of the time. You ate it up as your fingers traced down her chest, between the valley of her breasts before stopping to trace a few little patterns into the flesh showing below her shirt. You felt her abdomen tremble at your touch, and you smirked. “Get that smile off your face.” 

“I can’t help it,” You said, fingers twitching as you reached forward a little more and began sliding her shirt upward to expose her stomach and staring at her chiseled muscles in full view. Your breath hitched and you felt your toes curl up. “So perfect…” 

Sevika groaned, putting her hand over her face and covering her eyes. Almost like she was embarrassed of your words, but that would be silly. Sevika doesn’t get embarrassed. She isn’t capable of that. Is she? 

The veins almost popped in her forearm as she grabbed her face, feeling your soft, uncalloused fingers stroke along her ribs and slide up even more. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second as you breathed hard, licking at your lips. This was a huge moment for both of you.

You had never seen Sevika without a shirt before. Never seen all of her and hardly ever got to touch her like this. You felt like you were in control. This was insane. 

“S-Stop me if it’s too much,” You said, voice wavering as you pushed the shirt up the rest of the way. Your insides damn near melted at seeing her breasts for the very first time. You had a feeling it was just as strong as the rest of her, but you didn’t have proof until now. And another suspicion you had? Yes, her nipples were pierced. You fucking knew it.

“You done?” Sevika snapped, looking down at you and narrowing her eyes. You blinked, not realizing just how long you were staring at her until she knocked you out of your stupor. “Not some sideshow attraction here, doll.” 

“Really?” You chuckled, reaching up and cupping her breasts with both hands. “Because I think I should be paying to see you.” Your fingers traced over her piercings and Sevika gasped, her body jerking towards your touch like she was desperate for it. 

Sevika was a vision. And you were desperate to see more. 

It wasn’t long until you were reaching down for her belt and unzipping her pants when she reached out with her hand and grabbed at both of your wrists. You immediately stopped, looking down at her and seeing the wild look in her eyes and how her body was almost on the offensive. 

“Wait,” She pleaded. Your heart broke. “Just… just wait, please, give me just a minute.” 

“Sevika,” You frowned, releasing her belt and scooting closer towards her. Something was off about this, and you just had to know what was going on. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” 

“It’s just that… I just…” Her entire face fell as she sat up and dropped her head down. Her hair covered her face as you reached forward and pushed it away to look at her. “No one has done that before. I haven’t… let anyone touch me like this.” 

“Honey,” You cooed, leaning down and looking into her eyes. Sevika pressed her lips into a thin line and looked up through her lashes, the bruises under her eyes more prominent from this angle. “Talk to me.” 

The woman scowled. It was an internal battle for her to admit any of this, especially to you. Sevika knew how you saw her, and this was just crossing some kind of line in her mind. You saw her as a strong, unmovable force that could never be injured or taken down. You saw Sevika as a god, and she was about to shatter that illusion. 

“It was when I was a kid,” Sevika admitted. “I was a scrawny little shit, you know? A gutter rat… an easy target,” For a brief second, her eyes watered but she blinked it away. “I didn’t stand a chance back then.” 

There was a moment of confusion before the pieces clicked into place and you felt your entire body go rigid. You felt sadness, empathy, compassion… rage. Pure, blood-boiling rage as you pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. You couldn’t show your anger, but you wanted to hunt whoever it was down, and watch them bleed out slowly. How could anybody do that to her? To a child?

“I’m sorry, I–”

“Don’t,” Sevika looked away immediately, her lips curling into an almost snarl as she looked down at the sheets, trying to distance herself. You tried not to flinch as you scooted back in the bed and gave her space. “I don’t tell people shit for that reason. I don’t need pity. I don’t want it either.” 

“Okay,” You bit down on your lip, tucking your legs under your body and putting both hands on your thighs. Sevika noticed your sudden change of attitude and she stood up from the bed. Before you could ask what she was doing, she started pacing back and forth, rubbing at her jaw and trying to sort out her thoughts. You sat there silent, scared if you said a word that she would snap and the moment you two shared would be over. 

It was almost three whole minutes before she stopped pacing. You felt like you were trapped in a cage with a wild animal. So unpredictable and volatile, but just scared of what you could do to them and they feel the need to defend their existence. Your heart went out to her, and you wish you could take back your actions because now everything was shattered, just as you feared. 

“What the hell are we doing?” Sevika muttered into her hand. She turned to look at you and saw that you weren’t looking up at her, and almost like it was happening in slow motion, a tear slipped down and splattered onto your leg. You didn’t look up… until she said your name. Your real name, not a nickname or pet name. 

“Look,” Sevika said, sitting back down on the bed and reaching out to take your face in her hand. You leaned into her touch and held back a whimper. “This all got out of hand… Somewhere between us, the lines started blurring. Went beyond me paying to fuck you–”

“You’re not coming back,” You shivered. Sevika visibly recoiled at your words. “Are you? I ruined this, and now you won’t come back again.” 

“Hey now,” The woman immediately grabbed at your chin and forced you to look up. “Don’t put words in my mouth, doll. I never said that.”

You whimpered. “Then… What are you saying?” 

A gasp left you as she pressed her lips into yours once again and sighed, her hand tangling in your hair and rubbing at the back of your neck. It was just as fucking amazing as before and you were visibly upset when she broke off.

“I’ve got a reputation to keep up, you know? We just… have to keep this quiet, understand?”

“You mean,” You said. “Like a secret?” 

“See?” Sevika chuckled before kissing your cheek. “I knew you weren’t dumb, sweetheart.” 

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep7 Musings - Sam Reid’s Autumn Brown Interview (Pt2) S3 Akasha, the Drop, & Amel

Ok, returning to the whole "Blame Amel For Lestat's Abusive Behavior."

Sam referred to something VERY important that I think people overlooked in his segment on the Ep5 revisit; they heard the Akasha bit and just ran with it. But this is exactly what he said:

[SR] Loustat "had the potential to have something very beautiful, but [Lestat's] too messy and chaotic, and Louis and Lestat are also...the beauty of their violence and hatred together, their dynamic...you know.... [AB] It's the best! They have exactly what each other needs. But also everything that makes both of them the worst parts of themselves and the best parts of themselves. [SR] And I think that's kind of cool, when we revisit that scene from Episode 5 in Season 1. And you see that in the in the Trial. I think there's something really wildly beautiful, between the two of them, in that violence. Because Louis is unhinged and angry at Lestat, and I think Lestat is more obviously--he's way more powerful, and his act of violence is, you know, like unforgivable. [SR] But there's this space that private space that they have in the coffin room...how much they hate each other...that's how much Louis hates him, and that's how much Lestat is...hurt, and then turns into this violent, angry, I hate you!.... They have that much hate. They also have that much love; because they're also vampires, and so they operate on like a level of like-- [AB] Emotion that's dialed up to-- [SR] Pure chaos! They're operating on that level, and then Lestat drops him from the sky, and it is an irredeemable event in their relationship. It cannot come back from that. And it creates this kind of cascade in a set of events, that leads to Lestat being killed. And I think that's part of our adaptation. It's not necessarily the the real events Anne Rice's books, but this is what is in our adaptation. And I think it does feed into that overall sentiment that Lestat acknowledges his evil, hellish self-loathing self...that is there; and we obviously heighten things and make it bigger. [AB] In Season 1 you know that there's something else going on, on the other side of the wall; because you can hear the fight dies down. There's a break, and you think it's over, and suddenly starts back up again. And we have this moment of Lestat taking Louis into the sky. We finally get to see what that moment was. And Louis is chilling--oh my god that little laugh that he does! He's like I'm gonna cut your head off! I'm gonna feed it to the lions and I'm gonna laugh about it! I mean, do you think for Lestat in that moment...? Cuz what leads to Louis saying that is Lestat asking Are you going to leave me? Had Louis just said: Yeah! and walked out the door and left with Claudia, would that have led to the explosion? Was it the act of him leaving, or was it the words that instigated that level of vitriol? [SR] Uhhh....I don't know about that. And I don't know if it's worth speculating what would have happened if that didn't happen.

--MURF INTERJECTION-- Thank GOD Sam shut that ish down, omfg. Again: STOP tryna find ways to victim blame Louis for what went down or say he "instigated" the fight! 🤬 It doesn't frikkin MATTER what Louis said or didn't say. All that matters is what happened TO Louis, and TO Claudia, that was what got Lestat "killed."

[SR] But I think more importantly is that--and this is something that I've felt has been really important about playing Lestat from the beginning, and probably something that people find probably a little bit confronting--but for me, for Queen of the Damned to work, Lestat has to have a level of toxic male rage in him, so that when he is angry, and when he's violent, it has to be a toxic masculine rage for Akasha to follow through with the events that she does. And why she says: You are everything about masculinity that's wrong and terrible. And so that's why you're going to be my right-hand guy, and you're going to help me kill them all. And I think...I always felt like, when he does have those spurts of anger, it does have to come from a very toxic place. [SR] Where we're going, when we're looking at it, obviously there's a scene back in Season 1: he's had a drink of this, like, fountain that nobody knows he's had. Nobody knows. No one in the show. Nobody knows. The only person who knows is Lestat. And most of the people watching the show don't know this, at this point in time. [AB] There's just that one little throwaway line about Those Who Must Be Kept, and then nothing else. [SR] And originally in Season 1, when they're in the sky and they're having that moment, Lestat was originally scripted to tell Louis about The Sacred Fount! In that moment, Lestat actually tells Louis about what he has inside of him; what, who he's drunk from. I'm trying to be really vague for anyone who's watching this, and has no idea, and I'm not going to give anything away! But anyone who does know, will know. But originally it's that he's up in the sky. [SR] And I think that is the parallel line that we're drawing with. That level of rage that Lestat has. That toxic abusive rage is also coming from an extreme monstrous power, coming from this intense monster that he has, and he has no idea how to control; he's trying to repress it all the time. But he knows, if he can, if somebody just ticks him off a bit.... He's a volatile guy already, but he's got this thing in that makes him go: AAH! [AB] It's almost going back to that element of vanity that you're were talking about: being like, you would do this to ME?! You don't even KNOW what I have within me! [SR] Yeah, exactly! So that also means that we can feed that shame and shock into his monstrous self--and acknowledgement OF his monstrous self--into his progressive spiral, into where we're going. (34:10 - 40:59)

So. All of this stuff about Akasha (& Amel) needs to be recontextualized, cuz what Sam said is that "ORIGINALLY" the 1x5 script had Lestat threaten Louis with the warning: I'm trying to restrain the monstrous thing in me that makes me go AAH; you don't even KNOW what I have in me, AAH!

But guess what else happened? OBVIOUSLY, THEY TOTALLY TOSSED THAT ISH OUT OF THE SCRIPT, in S1 AND in the S2 revisit. 😂🤣 The time to have teased/suggested that there was something controlling Lestat that made him "accidentally" hurt Louis came & went in BOTH seasons, so arse-pulling Amel so late into the show after we already got Lestat's admission during the Trial looks goofy AF.

Cuz possession is a lazy abuse apologia COP OUT. Having "It was Amel's fault all along" would've directly contradicted AND undermined their whole point about PERSONAL ACCOUNTABILITY that they clearly wanted to get across MORE than using spirit possession as a crutch to explain/excuse Lestat's abusive behavior.

Possession would imply too many things, distracting from the overall thrust of Rolin's vision for telling a very real & very "aggressive, toxic, beautiful love story" about the ways soulmates find their way back to each other after hurting each other over & over.

Esp. since Hannah Moscovich (Ep5's writer) has already been VERY clear about her take on Lestat's capacity for "evil." She mentions his bad actions in TotBT, when Lestat was HUMAN again--he wasn't even in his own vampiric body (attached to Amel/Akasha's blood), and he was STILL doing effed up things! So his issues have nothing to do with spirit possession.

[SR] "it does feed into that overall sentiment that Lestat acknowledges his evil, hellish self-loathing self...that is there; and we obviously heighten things and make it bigger."

(Funny, when Sam something it's flowers & praise; but when Hannah says the same thing it's boos & hisses from the exact same fans, lol.)

Vampirism EXACERBATES & INTENSIFIES aspects of ALL people's character/nature that was ALREADY there; "all feels amplified." Cuz ALL vampires have Amel's spirit in them, NOT just Lestat. ALL of them are powered by his monstrous spirit, and ALL of them are capable of heinous sadistic bloodlust & inhuman acts of violence--look at Claudia's 56 Floaters & Santiago at the Chateau & Armand chasing Malik (& book!Daniel) for the lolz; and how hard Louis tries to FIGHT succumbing to those same impulses too. (Nebamun/Gregory & Teskhamen drank Akasha/Amel's blood. Marius & Pandora & Bianca drank her blood. Sweet baby Khayman drank her blood. Her son Seth drank her blood. Even Big Bad Rhoshamandes drank her blood, and as twisted as he is, even HE was like naaah this heifer's crazy, I'm outta here. Plenty of vamps drank from the Sacred Fountain, and aren't half as crazy & abusive & evil as the vampires that DIDN'T: Magnus, Santiago, Santino, Bruce/Killer, etc.) So the (weak) argument that Amel/Akasha's blood alone is what drives vamps to go totally effing ballistic on their significant others whenever they get mad is patently false, by the book AND the show's own logic.

So I'm glad they got rid of those lines, and just had Les say EXACTLY why he "fought myself a million times; fought my nature, controlled my temper!" and got mad enough to beat the breaks off Lou:

It's INSECURITY--not that Les can't control the monster in him (though ofc that's a VERY legit fear, his struggles with his temper & anger issues); it's that he can't control his family; his husband & child; and can't even "force Louis to love me;" esp. cuz despite all the Dark Gifts he has, he CAN'T read Louis' mind or manipulate his thoughts the way he could back when Lou was still human.

Cuz what Lestat DOES have from Amel/Akasha is direct access to more raw POWER & more Dark Gifts than the average vampire his age. He got her blood straight from the source, not diluted across vampiric generations. Those Gifts are why his rage so dangerous--his ability to overpower weaker vamps & fly them up in the air to drop them & set Millennial Fledglings on fire just for irritating him, etc. Esp. cuz we know "he's a volatile guy already;" he's got patented anger issues up the wazoo ("I am cursed with my father's temper; I am burdened with my Maker's temper").

ALSO, why would Amel have possessed Les to do something so counter-productive to his Chosen One's survival as almost winding up in the incinerator right next to Antoinette? By that logic, we'd have to say that Louis chokeslammed Claudia cuz HE was possessed by Amel too! That entirely strips away precisely what Sam said: how much Loustat LOVES each other drives them to unhinged levels of violence AGAINST each other, AND ultimately Claudia, as they each fear she'll take them away from each other (to Europe/the incinerator).

Hence why AMC hasn't laid ANY breadcrumbs indicating that Lestat was "possessed" by anything--just plain ole oppressive patriarchal toxic masculinity, just like I've been saying all along:

Cuz that machismo's what draws Magnus to Les in TVL & Akasha to Les in QotD; and that "vanity" is what draws Raglan James to Les in TotBT, and that sin/guilt/shame/self-loathing is what draws Memnoch to Les in MtD. In every book until Merrick, Lestat proves the villain right, before he finally realizes how bad he's messed up AGAIN, and course corrects to try proving them WRONG about him.

But Lestat's character development is a marathon, not a sprint; so it's not until Blackwood Farm that Lestat finally simmers TF down, and it's not till the PL Trilogy that his redemption arc really shines best. In PLatRoA, Louis proposes to Lestat WITH AMEL STILL IN HIM, as the Sacred Core directly communicating with Lestat, with the greatest chance to ACTUALLY take over Les if he wanted to! Louis is arguably the MOST concerned about Amel staying posted up in Lestat & possibly taking over him, so sure, I CAN see AMC leaning into the fear that Lestat's underestimating the chance of being spiritually possessed; esp. when compared with Akasha & Rhoshamandes. But that's also what SEPARATES Lestat from those 2, cuz he IS different; he IS special--to Amel. Cuz Les has a massive capacity to LOVE; he LISTENS, and treats Amel like a FRIEND, a PERSON, not a monster. And Lestat was SAD when Kapetria darn near kidnapped him & forced the surgical operation that finally separated Amel from him--cuz Lestat's ALWAYS carried that fear of abandonment in him.

Cuz it's not about Amel at all: it's about the HUMAN SOUL in each & every vampire; at the core of Gothic lit as a genre.

Cuz vampires ARE monsters, but the whole point of TVC is how they all learn how to be BETTER monsters/people; and NOT act like "barbarians" & wild animals--hence: Lestat's Vampire Court in the Chateau Era at the end of the franchise. Hence: Lestat finally becoming WORTHY of Louis' love.

So if AMC succumbs to pressure from the Lestans and retcons S1 & S2 to blame it all on Amel, Imma call that weak ish out on the spot.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"So how well did you do in the exam, Sev?"Lily asks excitedly.

Severus makes a dramatic pause, but is hiding a smile, then he shows her his paper: "An easy A+"

Lily, who didn't sleep to study all night, blushes. But she still shows her friend her own exam.

"An A - . But just barely. Physics is not my strongest subject"

It is the most difficult subject for everyone. Because their professor gives them the most horrible examinations. Everyone is torn up after it has ended. Lily knows some of her classmates even cried.

Severus touches her shoulder "You did great, Lily. It was a general difficult exam. You know how Frumentar is"

He doesn't sound like he made much effort. While Lily is exhausted for cracking her head up during the exam. She feels like a fool for trying so hard when others make it look so easy.

It should have been an A+. Lily feels like a failure.

That's when she hears them. The Marauders.

Peter sounds very stressed "I can't believe you got an A+. An A+!! It was the most difficult exam I've ever done"

"Easy peacy, I tell you" James grins.

"But you didn't even study!" Peter protests "We stayed until late with Remus revising it all"

James shrugs "The exam had everything Frumentar gave us in class. Nothing out of this world"

Peter groans, reflecting Lily's annoyance. How dares he? James Potter is Lily's number one enemy for a reason.

"How did you guys do?" James is asking to his friends.

Peter hides his paper. Sirius and Remus look at each other.

"C+" Remus sighs "I knew I could do better"

Lily would have died if she got a C+. She had never been lower than a B+.

"Same" Sirius hits Remus's palm. He doesn't look perturbed like him though "I don't worry. Grades are stupid. School sucks. It's all about the great things you do in life" he winks "Like Steve Jobs, for example. Did you know he left school?"

"I bet Steve Jobs didn't have a mother that would kill him" Peter whines.

"What did you get, Wormy?" Sirius asks putting an arms around him.

"I'm not sharing my grade" Peter blushes.

"It's okay, boys" James exclaims "Not everyone can be a genius like me"

Lily's blood boils. She really hates him. How come he is great at everything without moving a stupid finger? Some people are great academically but suck at sports. Like Severus. Others are great at Gymnastics but aren't that good at school. Like Marlene.

Although James Potter is good at both. And Lily hates him for that.

James Potter, Severus and her are always competing to be the top of their class. And it might be stupid. But Lily wants to win. All the time.

"I bet he has the teachers bought, Lily. Don't worry" Severus says, sensing Lily's anger.

"Let's just go, Sev"

Lily is so so angry and frustrated that when she passes by and James says "Hey, Evans" in the cheeky way he always does, she groans openly.

"How did you do in the exam?"

"Fuck off!!"

[idyllcy]

thinkin' about growing up and joining Ghosts with Keegan... grr

childhood friend!Keegan who you grew up with, hanging out with him after class and at your shared extracurriculars with, sitting in the back of your parents' car talking about anything and everything

childhood friend!Keegan who brought you to freshman year homecoming and junior year prom, photos of the two of you and matching corsages and outfits, final photo of your two families being a picture of the two of you in your military uniforms.

childhood friend!Keegan who returns home in between deployments with you, shared car driven from the airport as he drops you off before heading home himself. Eventually your parents just host dinner at one house so you both get a lighter trip

sergeant!Keegan who hates that somehow you've made your way into the Ghosts unit with him, pretty much attempting to shake you up at any chance to discourage you from continuing along, but it proves useless when you get promoted to Sergeant instead, sticking your tongue and middle finger out at him

sergeant!Keegan who's caught getting coffee with you in the morning, your back against the railing as he leans over it, staring down at the new recruits running. The base makes it the talk of the month until they realize the two of you don't give the reaction wanted

sergeant!Keegan who gets scared shitless whenever you get injured out on a mission and vice versa, the two of you always with the other at the medical facilities, string of scolding words given as you nurse each other back to health. The unit tries to make sure neither of you get hurt so both of you can go out on the field

sergeant!Keegan who unwinds when possible with you, wind in his hair as you let in a little air through the window of the room, sitting down on his bed as you throw your head back and just lay on the ground.

"Nearly got yourself killed out there, kid."

"It's fine." You exhale. "I'm alive and unscathed. That's all that matters."

"Debrief was hell."

"Always is." You stare up at him, humming. "Gonna kick me out tonight?"

"No, but floor's dirty."

"You mop yours." You yawn, closing your eyes as you do.

Keegan shuffles and lays down next to you, staring at the ceiling as he blinks once and then twice.

"Should get us a bigger room."

"Should get us a room." You hum. "Lie to their asses or get to the nearest government office."

"Who said I'm gonna marry you?"

"Your lack of game." You yawn again, sighing. "If you won't marry me, then I'll just go find Logan. Sure he'd love to get under your skin and start calling me his wife."

"He'd never let me live it down."

"Neither would I."

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 53/54

Prev | Next

Danny hugged Sam and Tucker. He would miss his friends, but there was no reason to stay. His dad and family were in the other dimension. Besides, even when they destroyed the portal, they could visit with Wulf's help.

Ghostwriter, who had been stuck in the thermos with Danny, had said he would look for Wulf so that they could facilitate communication between the friends. The other ghost had gone through the portal when they let him go to tell Raven they were fine and not to call other heroes.

Thank the Ancients he did because if time was slower in Danny’s home dimension, who knows how long it’s been in the other dimension? He didn’t want Auntie Raven freaking out. They already had to think of something to explain Danny’s disappearance. They didn’t need to add heroes to the mix.

They all went to the basement. Danny was wary; he didn’t want to see the Fentons’ bodies.

He was thankful Talia had cleaned up well. There wasn’t even blood on the floors. He did idly wonder where she hid the bodies.

Don’t think about it.

“We’ll miss you, Danny, but I’m glad you found a parent that cares about you,” Sam said as she hugged him again.

“Yeah, dude, you deserve some happiness. And who knows, you might have caught up to our age again the next time we see each other. You’re so shrimpy right now,” Tucker teased.

“Hardy, har-har, Tucker.”

His friends grinned, and Danny couldn’t help but give one of his own.

“We’ll wait for Wulf. We can trade letters or try to visit each other in the Ghost Zone,” Sam said with a sad smile. “It’s not goodbye. It’s an ‘I’ll see you later’ type of deal.”

Danny nodded, “I’ll miss you guys, but…”

Danny turned to look at his dad. He was standing by Talia and Jazz. Talia was tucking Jazz’s hair behind her ear and telling her something. Jazz’s eyes were still red. Danny couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Jazz had killed the Fentons to save him. It was his fault.

Talia had a maternal air around her as she continued talking to Jazz. Maybe he should accept her, not as his grandmother but as part of his family. She seemed to be helping Jazz after—after what happened.

Sam brought Danny back to the present.

“Live your best life; it sounds like you’re in a great dimension.”

“It has problems, but at least I’ll be more accepted with my powers. And the best part is, no GIW or Vlad!”

“I wonder what he’s going to do when he finds out Maddie is, well, you know,” Tucker said.

Danny tried not to think about it. He ignored the renewed sense of guilt at the thought of the Fentons’ deaths.

“You guys should go; we’re going to blow up this place and the portal. We don’t want anyone to think it was your fault.”

They hugged one last time, and then they were gone. It saddened Danny to see his friends leave, but he didn’t regret his decision. Besides, it was, as Sam said, it wasn’t goodbye.

“Are you sure about this, Danny lad? We can stay here. I have no problem leaving it all behind and, umph.”

Danny had tackled his father, “You’re silly, dad. I’ll miss my friends, but we can always visit. This dimension has left a bad taste in my mouth. I’d rather be home.”

Danny saw Batman and Nightwing’s tense shoulders relax from the corner of his eyes. Danny ignored them. They had been the main cause of his dad’s pain.

“Danny, chum, stop.”

“I’m not doing anything, daddy,” Danny said innocently. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely ignoring the two men. And maybe glaring at one of the founding members of the Justice League with glowing eyes wasn’t the best idea, but he couldn’t help it.

Dad laughed and hugged Danny, “I love you, chum, so much.”

“I love you, too.”

“I hate to break up this sweet father-son moment, but it’s time to leave,” Jazz said in a hollow voice, “I set the portal to blow up in ten minutes. That should give us enough time to get far enough away from it.”

“And you’re sure this explosion will stay isolated to the basement,” Batman asked. Which okay, it was a valid question, but why couldn’t someone less annoying have asked?

Jazz turned toward him, “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll only take out the basement and the portal. Nothing or no one else will be affected. Also, I know that you copied the data on the computer. I want to receive a copy. And that isn’t up to negotiation, Batman.”

“Busted,” Nightwing murmured.

“Seriously, old man?” Danny grinned at his dad’s pissed-off tone.

“Of course, I’m…sorry that I didn’t ask before doing so.”

“Somehow, I doubt that. Let’s go.”

Dad glared at Batman one last time before walking through the portal. It was time to go home.

____

Jazz drank a hot cup of tea as she watched the sun move across the sky. Ellie was sleeping beside her in a baby bouncer.

Thankfully, by the time they returned home, they had only been gone the whole night and part of the morning. They had made up a story about looking for Danny in the woods behind the school all night and having found him. The official story was that Danny had followed a kitten into the woods and gotten lost. It hurt Danny’s pride a little, but they had to come up with something.

The police had notified the school officials, and by midday, everyone knew Danny had been found.

Even Avril had shown up to make sure they had been fine.

“I’m so glad little Danny is well,” she crouched down to Danny, “Don’t follow animals into the woods anymore, sweetie; it could have ended so much worse. Oh, Sarah was so worried.”

Jazz couldn’t tell if the woman was being sincere or not, but they were all too tired to care about her.

After their statement had been taken, the little family went back home. Raven had picked up Ellie, and Jazz had wanted to hold her little girl after the shitty day she had.

They had let Bruce and Dick stay the day so they could rest. Bruce had overstepped his boundaries but still helped get Danny back. He even gave Jazz the drive and asked if he could review the information.

Jazz and Jason could let the two men rest at their home.

Jazz had been too restless to sleep, so she had offered her bed to Dick while Bruce had taken Jason’s. Jason had gone to sleep with Danny in Danny’s room. Raven had gone home but promised to return with Roy and Lian the next day.

Jazz took another sip of her tea, Ellie’s soft snores calming her nerves.

She let time pass her by without any real thoughts, which was her excuse for not noticing Talia until she put something wrapped in a white cloth in front of her.

It took Jazz a moment to recognize the shape of the item. It was a knife. Jazz’s blood ran cold.

“I doubt you would want to keep it, but I had to ask before taking that decision away from you,” Talia said.

Jazz took the wrapped dagger in her hands. Although it was clean, she swore she saw red specks on the cloth.

“It’s Danny’s; you should ask him.”

Coward, she thought to herself, making Danny decide is a cowardly move.

Talia put her manicured hand on top of Jazz’s, “It’s yours now, Jasmine. I can take it away, and you’ll never see it again, but you have to decide.”

For a while, only Ellie’s soft snores punctured the silence.

Jazz put the dagger down.

“I want to keep it, as weird as it sounds.”

That dagger was her partner in crime. Probably the only other thing that could understand her. After all, it had helped Jazz take Jack Fenton’s life.

Jazz tried not to think too deeply about her keeping a souvenir of her first kill.

She laughed hysterically: did she really think ‘first?’

Talia squeezed Jazz’s hand. “Jasmine, I am not a perfect mother or person, but I want to be here for you. I want to help you through this.”

Jazz looked at Talia and said sincerely, “You have helped me. Thank you.”

She got up and hugged the woman. Talia tensed with surprise before putting her arms around Jazz.

Jazz would get through this. She could try to find a therapist who specialized in PTSD, or she could ask Talia to find one who wouldn’t report her to the authorities and lock her up.

She would not let this consume her. Jazz had her future ahead of her; the Fentons had taken enough of her past, and they would not have her future either.

Hey everyone, just one more chapter to go through, and I'll finish this fic. I actually have tears in my eyes. I can't believe it's almost over 😭

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's what it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

Derry, Maine 1984

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

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[halfwayunder]

Caitvi will reunite in Act 3 as part of the Piltover-Ambessa war.

Don't read if you don't like trailer scene-by-scene dissections and want to keep yourself in the dark! I just wanted to share my thoughts. Based on clips from the trailer, where we see both Vi and Caitlyn wearing that same black and gold enforcer-looking armor, the reunion is inevitable. Also based on how Act 1 ended and has set up what's to come, as well as clips from the trailer again, through one way or another Ambessa will lose influence over Caitlyn and upon realizing she cannot control Piltover through a puppet, will be desperate enough to try and conquer it directly. She has no other option. In Act 1, Maddie said to to Vi what Cait said about her "if every enforcer had a heart like yours we would be able to take on Noxus itself" this was somewhat of a throwaway line but I think is foreshadowing the war. We see in the trailer at 1:24 Ekko and the Fireflies in Piltover swooping down from the sky toward Noxan soldiers, I believe that the battle with Noxus will have a temporary or partial alliance between Piltover and some of Zaun and help heal relations with a common enemy that manipulated them both. I say some because Jinx will probably remain a hostile third party to everyone and show up near the end as an even more final enemy after the Noxans are bested perhaps. We also see what looks to be scenes of enforcers battling Noxan soldiers and that explosion at the tower where Vi is carrying someone to safety.

Ambessa fighting enforcers (the guy on the right hand side) with Noxan warriors to the left.

Vi carrying someone in similar armor to her own to safety. I first thought it was Caitlyn but now I think it might be someone else because it looks like they're wearing a helmet if you look to the far right of the image. You can't see any neck skin, hair or a head.

Blue fish guy from the strike force squad with some enforcers. You can see the red banners of Ambessa's ships in the distance (we know this from another clip where Vi and Ekko are on his board together, you can see a ship in the water below them.) This is just before an explosion forces them to take cover.

And of course, our girls are wearing matching armor! And Vi has a new pair of gauntlets! So with fears of them not getting back together soothed, my only concern now is what happens after they do. I don't think the writers won't indulge in a 'kill your gays' trope and have one of them die after they reunite and reconcile, they've shown themselves to be really good so far. They did say the ending would be a "gut punch" but that could reference any number of things. I'm more worried they might have both gone through too much to get back together after all this is over and their ending will be more bittersweet where neither dies and they don't hate each other, but their life paths just take them different ways now. When I say I'm worried about it that doesn't mean I'm sure or think there's a high probability it'll happen. I just think it's a possible outcome. At the end of the day I just REALLY REALLY want them to get married and live a happy life together tbh. They deserve it.