#sunny is in my synapses turning them rotten

[hellshandbasket]

You just have to elaborate on the “I mean like even the apple seeds” tag on your Dennis’ pain and how Mac takes care of it post because I am very intrigued and can’t infer on that myself!

haha you guys should stop enabling me. anyway. yes i will humanize even the apple seeds joke and make it about macdennis + pain. (tw for light/vague discussions of disordered eating)

my favorite thing about this particular unhinged take is that it focuses on how dysfunctional the macdennis dynamic is instead of just the sweeping romanticism of mac being able to see dennis’ pain and attend to it, because it highlights how mac sometimes does that to an unhealthy/incorrect degree.

but i digress. sorry to keep you waiting. the apple seeds: it’s about the way mac takes dennis’ distress over the thing seriously, and offers dennis genuine and caring counsel.

in fact, if i use the tidy little “mac is the only one able to attend to dennis’ pain and dennis can’t let go of that” theory it explains why dennis would allow himself to believe something so fucking dumb as “cigarette smoke smothers the poisonous apple seeds in your stomach.” we all know dennis has issues with food. both mac and dennis have body image issues, and mac has fluctuating issues with food himself. but about dennis—mr undiagnosed eating disorder himself. i don’t think he has just a restrictive/body image based eating disorder, but something like arfid or ocd, where he has innumerable neuroses and anxieties around his food intake.

this is where it gets toxic because mac is aware of this and takes it upon himself to be like, dennis’ food bodyguard. he’s actually trying to love and care for dennis, but he doesn’t know any better and ends up enabling dennis’ instead (macdennis i’m obsessed with you). gang chokes is like, about this. but md break up talks about it and the apple seeds thing are the greatest example for me, and a huge manifestation of the macdennis + pain thing imo.

there’s the apple skin thing to start, which is a great instance of how this would work. it also gives us a nice glimpse into how macdennis + pain is reciprocal because (and i haven’t even gotten to do a whole thesis on this but i could) mac struggles with wanting to feel needed, wanted, of value, etc and as much as he can get bitchy and mean, overall dennis makes mac feel all of those things. especially in peak macdennis years (3/4-9). but i’m digressing again—just pointing out how and why this works so well for mac too, because it’s more than just being stupid in love with dennis (it fulfills something personal in him too, it soothes a hurt in him too).

but for me, the apple seeds? another instance of dennis showing negative, painful emotion, and mac being the only one to respond in a way that matters to dennis. i mean yes a moment to thank glenn for his comedic genius in the sound of that fake retching, but also dennis was so distressed over the thought of potentially eating something bad. that was panic! that was repulsion! that was fear! food is just such a fundamental thing for dennis.

the rest of the gang kind of brush him off when he scurries over, totally distraught over these stupid apple seeds. charlie validates his alarm over the toxicity of the dumb seeds (<3), but no one has time for dennis and his hysteria. and it is hours after the whole ordeal has passed, and they are still kind of fighting, but the minute dennis sees him he tells this to mac because he knows mac will take him seriously and fix the hurt. he looks so relieved when mac doesn’t brush it off or question him or roll his eyes, he just takes it in stride and asks dennis if he tried x to solve the problem.

i know this kind of thing happens regularly and i know it rewires things in dennis’ brain! he must be so scared and yet so comforted! he must be so confused and in love and embarrassed and mac is mine and mac cares and oh god what if mac leaves who will give a shit if i cry over apple seeds then no one can know apple seeds scare me like this ahhh!!!

[alias-b]

Nothing Lasts Forever.

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

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

Pennywise x OC Eleanor Baker ~ Also on my ao3

   They say she saw It first.

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

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

   They say she felt no fear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

   A red balloon skimmed against the breeze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “Yes.”

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

   "Who are you?"

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

   Big eyes full and empty.

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

   She said nothing to that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “You’ll know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   This girl she ignored was all she had left.

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

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

   “Do what, my dear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Down.

   Down.

   Down.

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

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

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

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

   A gloved hand curled into hers.

   “Am I dead?” She asked.

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

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

   The man leaned in near her hair. Inhaled.

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

   "Pennywise." She puffed, barely audible.

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

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

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

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

   Existed together in one space.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Except love, she thought. Except desire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   It was a soft prayer.

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

   A squelch.

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

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

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

   A scar thickened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   “We were built to last forever.”