#i haven’t drawn chase in so long…… i don’t remember how 2 draw him

[doctorcollege]

Dad I’d Like to. friend :)

(redraw of this)

#i love the original post so much but it looks so bad.so i remastered it #i haven’t drawn chase in so long…… i don’t remember how 2 draw him #henrik #chase #jacksepticeye egos #<- yea whatever i’ll main tag a post for the first time in a million years #my art.png

[clusterbuck]

been trying to tell you i want you the most (part two)

(2.6k, rated E, chapter 2/2; vampire!buck au) part one, or read the whole thing on ao3

Buck avoids him for the entire rest of the day. He’s not obvious about it—doesn’t turn tail and run away from him like Chimney trying to hide a secret—but Eddie knows Buck, knows him better than he knows anyone, with the possible exception of his own son. So he knows what it looks like when Buck’s avoiding someone.

There’s also the fact that Eddie is accustomed to spending entire shifts practically glued to Buck’s side, and now he’s alone. Buck might only be on the other side of the room, but he could just as well be on a different planet. And Eddie knows he isn’t the only one who’s noticed.

No one says anything, but Eddie doesn’t miss the way Bobby, Hen, and Chimney keep looking back and forth between him and Buck like spectators at a tennis match. He also doesn’t miss the way their gazes linger at the base of his throat, where Buck’s earlier attention left a sizeable hickey.

At least no one had seen him in the locker room, scrambling to find a pair of uniform pants with the button still attached.

But Eddie doesn’t care about any of it—the looks, the raised eyebrows, the speculation he knows must be going on behind his back. All he cares about is the fact that Buck won’t even look at him. It gnaws at him, digs a hole in his chest that only grows deeper the longer this goes on.

And on it goes.

They get called out to a fairly sizeable structure fire in the early afternoon, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, because at least now Buck will have to look at him.

Except he doesn’t, not once. It would be impressive, if not for the fact that it’s putting them all in danger.

Their shift is over by the time they pull back into the station. Buck is off the truck before it comes to a stop, in and out of the locker room before most of them manage to climb out. He stalks through the station and out towards the parking lot, and Bobby sighs.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” he tells Eddie. “But you need to sort it out before it gets somebody killed.”

“It’s—” Eddie starts, and then stops, because he doesn’t know if Buck has actually disclosed the whole vampire thing to Bobby. Also because he doesn’t really want to tell his captain a story that culminates in him basically coming in his pants in the fire station supply closet.

“I don’t need to know the details,” Bobby says. “Nor do I particularly want to. Just figure it out, will you?”

“I’m trying,” Eddie mutters. Bobby gives him an encouraging smile and heads off in the direction of his office.

He calls Carla on the drive over to Buck’s loft to ask if she can hang out with Christopher for a little while longer today.

“Is everything okay?” she asks immediately.

“Yeah, I just need to figure out why Buck won’t fucking look at me,” he says, perhaps a little more vehemently than originally intended.

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and then: “I’m gonna tell my husband I’m spending the night here.”

“No, you don’t have to—”

“Good luck!” Carla says, and hangs up before Eddie can finish his protest.

He pulls up in front of Buck’s building, and this time he doesn’t need to sit in the parking lot debating it. He just walks right in, all the way into Buck’s apartment.

Buck is lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t react when Eddie storms in, doesn’t even turn his head to look. “What the fuck, Buckley?”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says hoarsely, and he sounds so despairing that Eddie stops in his tracks. Some of his anger melts away.

“What—are you okay?”

Buck says nothing.

“I’m gonna need more words,” Eddie says.

“No, I’m not okay,” Buck says tonelessly.

“Buck.”

“It’s okay, you can spare me the lecture and just go. I know. I’m sorry.”

Eddie had been angry when he walked in, but now he’s mostly just confused, and more than a little concerned. “What are you sorry for, exactly?”

“I said I wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, and then I…” Buck trails off, and it clicks.

Eddie doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. This is why Buck has been avoiding him all day?

“Were we in the same supply closet?” he asks, incredulous. “Did you miss the part where I said please?” It’s not exactly his proudest moment, the begging, but he’d thought it was pretty obvious that he had been very into everything that had been happening.

“It’s the venom,” Buck mutters. “More of the same predator bullshit. It just makes you think you want things.”

This isn’t the way Eddie had planned on coming clean to Buck. Mostly on account of the fact that he hadn’t really planned on doing it at all. But Buck is about to spiral, and Eddie can only think of one way to pull him out of it.

He takes a deep breath. “Buck. I wanted you long before I ever even saw your fangs. It isn’t the venom talking.”

“Sounds like something someone under the thrall of vampire venom would say,” Buck says, but he’s beginning to sound more like himself, amused and a little teasing.

“It’s not—okay, is there some kind of venom field sobriety test?”

Buck stares at him. “I can almost guarantee you there is not, because no one in the history of the world has ever needed one before.”

“Okay, so, how long do the effects usually last?”

“Twelve hours, maybe?”

Eddie looks at his watch. “Okay then.” He pulls Buck’s feet off the couch and sits in the space left behind.

“What are you doing?” Buck asks, scrambling not to fall on the floor.

“Waiting it out.”

Eddie doesn’t know exactly when they left the supply closet, but he has a good enough idea. He watches the minutes tick by, looking up at Buck every now and then. Buck meets his gaze every time, and his stare is intense enough that Eddie’s well on his way to hard by the time his self-imposed deadline comes around.

“Time’s up,” he says, looking at Buck. “I still want you.”

Buck swallows. “Then have me.”

Eddie crawls over slowly, draping himself across Buck. “Are you sure?” he asks, face hovering inches above Buck’s. “Sure it’s not just the venom talking?”

“Shut up,” Buck growls, reaching for Eddie’s neck to pull him closer.

“Make me,” Eddie says, and he’s grinning as his lips crash against Buck’s.

It’s then that Eddie realises that as familiar as he’s become with Buck’s mouth over the past few weeks, this is the first time they’re actually kissing. Buck’s mouth has been all over him, but this is the first time he’s been able to get his mouth on Buck.

For the life of him, he can’t remember why they haven’t been doing this all along. Buck’s mouth slides against his like they were made to fit together, and Eddie is suddenly glad they’re already lying down. It would be embarrassing if the mere act of kissing brought him to his knees, like he suspects it might if his legs had to actually hold his weight right now.

Buck’s fangs slide out, and Eddie traces the shape of them with his tongue. Buck pulls back, just enough so he can see Eddie.

“I knew it,” Buck says, a hint of smugness in his voice. “You have a thing for the fangs.”

“I don’t—” Eddie splutters. “It’s not—”

But Buck drags the tips of his fangs down the column of Eddie’s throat, just shy of drawing actual blood, and Eddie’s dick twitches.

“That’s right,” Buck says. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a little fang kink.”

Eddie groans and hides his face against Buck’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure it’s approximately the same shade as a fire truck right now.

“I mean, you’ve come to the right place,” Buck says, trailing his fingertips up and down the back of Eddie’s neck. “If, you know, that was something you were into.” He punctuates the statement by nipping at Eddie’s throat, just enough that blood starts beading on his skin, and Eddie shudders.

“I’m gonna have to start wearing turtlenecks,” Eddie grumbles.

“We live in LA,” Buck points out. “You might as well just wear a big sign that says ‘ask me about the marks on my throat’.”

“Or you could stop marking up my throat.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Buck asks, and Eddie still hasn’t looked up, but he can hear the grin in Buck’s voice. “I do have a couple of ideas, though…”

Eddie lifts his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and scrapes a fang along Eddie’s jaw. “But I just fed this morning, so you’ll have to wait to find out what they are.”

“Tease,” Eddie groans, breath catching as Buck licks at the spot his fangs had just been.

“It’s only teasing if I don’t do anything about it,” Buck counters. “And I fully intend to.” Then he moves, flipping both of them over faster than Eddie can blink. And maybe he should be used to the vampire strength by now, but it still kind of takes his breath away.

Buck cradles his face like it’s something precious to him, and Eddie is struck dumb by the contrast of the fond look on Buck’s face and the fangs at the corners of his mouth. He’s always been drawn to Buck, but he’s only just starting to understand the extent of it. There is no configuration of the universe that intended for them to end up here like this, predator and prey—and yet.

Eddie has always been defiant, but as he reaches up to chase Buck’s lips with his, he thinks this might be a new extreme.

Buck leans back as Eddie reaches up, a glint in his eye. “So much for not being a tease,” Eddie whines in protest.

“Give me a second,” Buck says. A moment later he’s on his feet, supporting Eddie’s weight with just one arm.

Yeah, Eddie is definitely not used to the vampire strength yet. He wraps his legs around Buck’s waist, more for the novelty of it than because he’s afraid Buck will drop him.

Buck heads for the stairs, and Eddie leans in to kiss his neck, the underside of his jaw, anywhere he can reach. They reach the top and Buck deposits him on the bed, crawling after him until he’s hovering over Eddie.

“It’s not that I wasn’t enjoying the high school style couch make out,” Buck says, kissing the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and his jaw, and nipping at his earlobe. “But I need room to work.”

Buck tears off his shirt, and Eddie is about to protest when Buck gently bites at a spot on his ribcage and starts sucking a mark into his skin, and Eddie no longer has the brain cells to spare for things like complaining about ripped clothing.

He’s convinced Buck’s mouth has magical properties, even beyond the obvious, because surely the combination of tongue and teeth shouldn’t be this potent. Eddie writhes under Buck’s touch, torn between never wanting him to stop and begging him to move on already, because Buck hasn’t even touched him anywhere below the ribs yet and he’s almost painfully hard.

“Buck,” he grits out, a groan and a plea. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, exactly, just knows that he needs more.

“We’re going to have to work on your patience,” Buck says, and bites at Eddie’s hip, just above the waistline of his boxers.

“Patience is overrated,” Eddie grumbles, trying to grab at whatever part of Buck is closest to him.

Buck takes both his wrists in one hand and pins them to the side. “Will you just stay still? I promise I’m gonna take care of you.”

“What if I want to take care of you?” Eddie counters, sounding more belligerent than he feels with Buck’s hands working his fly open and dragging his pants down.

“Later,” Buck says, throwing Eddie’s pants and boxers off somewhere to the side and pulling his own clothes off. “My turn first.”

Eddie is about to protest when Buck wraps his lips around his dick, and the only sound that leaves Eddie’s mouth is a moan.

If Eddie thought Buck’s mouth had magical properties before, it was nothing compared to this. His entire world narrows to this one point, to his dick in Buck’s mouth. To the swirl of Buck’s tongue and the gentle pressure of his mouth. To the occasional barely-there scrape of his teeth, just enough to remind Eddie about the sharp fangs that live in that mouth.

Just as suddenly as it began, it’s over, and Eddie whines at the loss of contact as Buck withdraws. Buck runs his hands over Eddie’s thighs and spreads them apart, and Eddie shudders at the rush of air—and then shudders again as Buck bites the inside of his thigh, enough to draw blood.

“Told you I have ideas,” Buck says, and Eddie can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You can’t—you can’t do that at the station,” Eddie gasps out.

“No, that’s just for me,” Buck agrees, and bites him again.

There’s a sound Eddie can’t identify, and then Buck’s fangs are replaced with something cold. Buck brings a hand between his legs, and Eddie realises it must be lube just as Buck starts carefully working a finger into him.

Buck takes his sweet time with it, moving his fingers so slowly Eddie isn’t sure he’s moving at all. Eddie whines impatiently and tries to buck his hips, and Buck just laughs and pins him down with his other hand.

“Buck,” Eddie pleads. Buck’s slow movements have all his nerve endings on high alert, desperate for the friction Buck isn’t providing. “Please, I—I need—”

“Shh, I know,” Buck says, hand still continuing at its maddeningly slow pace. “Soon.”

Soon could be hours later or it could be seconds, Eddie doesn’t know. All he knows is the way every cell in his body is focused on Buck’s hand, like he could somehow telepathically will it to give him what he needs. His cock is hard against his stomach, leaking and twitching every time Buck brushes against his prostate.

Finally, Buck withdraws his hand. He produces a pillow from somewhere and tucks it under Eddie’s hips, and then Eddie’s practically sobbing from relief as Buck pushes into him.

Buck keeps his thrusts steady and slow and Eddie writhes beneath him, mumbling incoherent praise and encouragement. He can feel himself teetering on the edge, and he tries to communicate this to Buck, practically begging for harder, faster, for anything to tip him out of this limbo of almost, almost, almost—

He tries to reach for his dick but Buck stops him, lifting his arms and pinning them over his head. It brings his face closer to Eddie’s, and he grins. “I keep telling you,” Buck says, “patience,” then he sinks his fangs into the pulse point on Eddie’s throat, and Eddie comes so hard he whites out for a second.

Above him, Buck is finally losing his composure, and Eddie watches him slowly come apart; moving faster, almost frantically, then stilling as his orgasm hits him.

Buck collapses onto him, breathing heavily and nestling his face in Eddie’s shoulder. “Patience was worth it, huh?”

Eddie hums in reply, trailing his fingers up Buck’s back. “I’ll show you patience,” he says, feeling the heavy weight of exhaustion begin to creep over him. “Next time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, letting it curl into just enough of a growl to wipe the smirk off Buck’s face. “So you’d better be ready.”

#buddie fic #buddie #911 fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #shush emma #emma writes #vampire!buck au #if you read part 1 the other day please note the rating has been upgraded from M to E lol

[anonymous0writer]

Dating JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer

Warnings: Mentions of sex (I think that’s it) Mentions of abuse

A/N: I wanted to make one for JJ, and I have have another in the works. So is part two of Pretending. :)

Kissing:

He loves to kiss you

Neck, cheek, forehead, anywhere

JJ loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck until you tell him to stop

Every time you see each other, you kiss

You always kiss his cheek

Hickeys? Yes. He loves to make everyone know that those are from him

Especially when Turons hit on you

You love kissing his hair 

You two will just bet sitting in the hammocks, holding hands and you’ll just press a kiss to his knuckles

Kissing is everything

Make out sessions when the rest of the pogues aren’t looking? Of course.

Teasing kisses are the best (and worst when you don’t get what you want)

JJ will brush his lips against yours, making you chase after him until he fully kisses you

Or he’ll kiss you heavily, and when it’s going somewhere.. he pulls away, making you playfully hit his arm or beg him for just one more kiss

Hanging out:

You guys are best friends

You don’t always cuddle or are around each other

That’s okay, because you are also best friends with Pope, John B. and Kie

You always hang out normally

Just laughs, beers and wild ideas

Like the old times, when you and JJ weren’t an couple

It’s so easy, and natural

You love that he’s your best friend and boyfriend

But sometimes, you and Kie will be hanging out and he’ll give you puppy eyes from across the room until you sit with him

The one downside (but you both secretly love it) to the pogues knowing, is that they tease you

Constantly. Literally, they don’t shut up

“Oh god, he’s giving her the eyes again.” “We better get out.” “Get a room!” “Ew. No PDA, remember?” “Jeez, can you guys go one second without having sex?”

When ever you laugh too much at a JJ joke, the boys attack you

Mimicking your laugh and giggling wildly

John B. will stand on the coffee table, giggling madly, saying in a high voice, “Oh JJ! You’re too funny. Stooop!” 

Which will lead into you pushing him off and rolling your eyes

Pope loves to fake gag and throw up when you guys kiss

And Kie will always tell you to stay safe and use condoms- seriously, that girl has no shame

But they all love you and love that you guys are together

They love how happy you two are

Sex:

JJ is wild

He loves sex

Always teasing you

Always leaving hickeys and love bites

And he’ll always leave you a little sore the next day

He loves going hard

And there isn’t somewhere you haven’t had sex

John B.’s couch? Yes. The guest bedroom? Yes. Closet? Yes. Shower? All the time. 

Literally anywhere, any time

You love when he pushes you against the wall

But he’s also into slow, passionate sex when both of you are tired or just not up for it

He loves going raw once you were on the pill

You’re always trying new positions

But your favorites are the wall, and doggy

Aftercare:

Cuddles are everything

Always cuddling

On the couch, after sex, in the hammock

He gives you his shirt, and you just cuddle and talk quietly until you fall asleep

He kisses you until you fall asleep

You love curling into his chest, drawing patterns on his bare chest as he rubs your back, kissing your forehead

He’s really into taking care of you

Sometimes, in the morning he’ll bring you breakfast

But it doesn’t happen often because 1) he’s lazy, and hates sneaking out of the bed because he always wakes you 2) he loves watching you sleep and 3) he’s horrible at cooking

Dating:

You’ll have nights by yourself, and most of the time, that leads to sex

Sometimes, you guys just sit together, doing your own thing, or just talk

You never really go on dates, though sometimes, he’ll ask John B. for the boat and you’ll go watch the sunset on the water

Both of you aren’t big on the fancy dinner dates

You’re perfectly happy with just spending time together and having a good summer

Sometimes, because you’re not very confidant, or good, JJ will help you with surfing, teaching you new tricks and hyping you up

You always surf together, and then go eat at Kiara’s parents restaurant or the Chateau, and you guys count that as a ‘date’

Touching:

It’s like the kissing

Always touching

Lazy circles drawn on the other’s arm

Absentmindedly playing with the other’s hair

Sometimes, you grab his hand while doing something else and play with his fingers

You always lazily touch each other

It’s a habit and a instinct

Just to make sure that the other is there

JJ always touches your arm or your waist

He’s never said it, but the constant touching started with him making sure you were always there, solid and real

Hurting:

Whenever JJ’s dad hurts him, he comes to you, bruised and battered

You always clean him up and take a shower together

You sit him on your bed and hold him if he needs to cry or talk

Sometimes you don’t talk at all, just fuck

Whatever he needs, you give to him

You always get him to stay at John B.’s as long as he can before he has to go back

And usually, after he comes over, and if it’s really bad, you’ll go outside to watch the sunset alone and cry

You hate seeing JJ so broken and abused

You don’t think he’s ever found out about you’re late night crying

But no matter what, you hold him and kiss him and tell him you love him and that his friends love him and that he’s perfect

Saying I love you:

You said it first

JJ was scared to say it, but once he knew you weren’t leaving and that you felt the same, he was quick to say it

It wasn’t anything special, just a normal night

You were in the hammock, softly swinging as you watched the sunset

His arms were around you and you felt so safe and loved

and you just blurted it

“I love you, JJ.”

You didn’t realize it, but JJ heard it and turned you around

“What?” You smiled. “I love you.” He blinked, totally unprepared. You touched his cheek. “You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay. I just wanted you to know.” And you were okay with him not saying it back at first. Because you knew deep down that he did. 

But he said it. You fell asleep in his arms, leaving him to think about it

JJ loved you more than he could express, so he decided that when you woke up, he’d say “I love you so much.” and show you just how much

#obx #john b routledge #john b obx #jj maybank #jj #jj obx #pope heyward #kiara outer banks #kiara carrera #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #dating #outer banks imagine #outer banks

[kbstories]

Diachronic

dia·chron·ic (adj.)

Occurring over time; historical.

Kidd is torn apart and Killer is (almost) too late.

(Or: Remember that nebulous Kidd vs. Shanks fight? Yeah, that.)

Tags: Angst, Blood and Violence, Mild Gore, Kidd Is Straight Up Not Having A Good Time, Shanks Is A Bit Of A Bastard

Post-Summit War setting, during the Timeskip. Content warning for lots of blood and some gore. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

“Fight me!”

A shout like a gun going off, sparks flying, black powder catching fire. Two words, bang bang, and the world stops spinning in the silence that follows.

Kidd is grinning, teeth sharp and eyes alight, near-feral with bloodlust. “Did ya hear me, Red-Haired Shanks?”, he calls across the beach, the Victoria Punk behind and an Emperor’s lair ahead. They’re outnumbered, surrounded already, blood seeping into the sand that shifts beneath their boots.

“I want a duel. Just you and me.”

At Kidd’s back, Killer stares at Benn Beckman, watches him raise an eyebrow and continue to smoke. They haven't moved, him and Shanks’ other officers, content to stand by at the very edge of the jungle where the sun struggles to breach its gloom. Something about how casual it is makes Killer lock his jaw, raise his scythes like fangs.

A glance is all he’s worth, an amused uptilt to thin lips. Beckman exhales, breath hazy with smoke, and nods at his captain. Watch and learn.

Next to him, Shanks takes a swig of whatever swill is in that dusty old bottle of his. Eyes, black as obsidian glass and just as sharp, fall on Kidd, track lazily over the fur draped across his shoulders and how his fingers curl around the thrum of magnetism they command.

Shanks sighs.

“My, my, a duel… Listen, kiddo, it’s not even noon. It’s too early for this stuff, don’t ya think?”

Around Killer, the crew bristles. Underestimated, disrespected, dismissed at every turn: It’s more of the same, a mistake the mighty make before they inevitably fall at their hands. Kidd sneers.

“You Emperors are so fucking pathetic. Letting those Government dogs do whatever they want while you hoard the scraps left behind. The world doesn’t need your kind anymore, Shanks! It’s our turn now.”

Shanks’ mouth shapes itself around a low ohhh. “So harsh! I can’t let a speech like that go to waste now, can I, Benn?”

Beckman replies, “Guess not, Captain”, flicking his cigarette to places unknown. Just as bored, he reaches for the bottle in the same instant Shanks pushes it into his waiting hand.

This is it.

“Kidd”, says Killer, little more than a breath between them. Kidd looks over his shoulder, meets Killer’s eyes despite the mask, the grin softening to a smile, no less deadly. This is the moment they carve their names into the sky, the very fabric of the world; the moment they become infamous enough to reach even the junkyard that gave them a beginning and nothing else.

Broad-shouldered, head held high, Kidd is every bit the man Killer knew he would become as he walks into the space their enemies open up for him. A flame chasing away wolves, ready to blaze a path through whatever obstacles remain.

One step, two – Kidd is out of reach and Killer lets him go. This is the moment they’ve been waiting for. 

*

Killer watches it all unfold in snapshots, blink-and-you-miss-it glimpses he will remember to the end of his days:

A ring of surprised looks as weapons of all kind tug free, drawn to Kidd’s outstretched hands;

Red-Haired Shanks, drawing his sword, cloak fluttering where an arm should be but isn’t;

The audible crackling of Haki clashing against Haki, Kidd’s cackling laughter in the air–

There Killer stands, arms crossed and all his senses trained on every move his captain makes. Strike, counterstrike, an engine roaring to life in streaks of red and gunmetal grey, firing from all cylinders. Action, reaction, the indulgent curl of a smile on Shanks’ lips that is the antithesis to that razor-edge gaze.

Shanks lets Kidd come and Kidd does so hard. Over and over, snarling, “Fight me!”, metal claws hooked and closer to drawing blood with every swipe.

Then fabric tears, one long gash from shoulder to wrist if Shanks were whole. “Ah, hell”, the Emperor mutters. Taking the time to pout at his ripped cloak as if Kidd isn’t right there, lunging for his throat without hesitation–

Shanks side-steps it without a single look in Kidd’s direction. “Y’know what? Fine. Make it worth my time, welp.”

And Shanks’ presence, already heavy, already suffocating, drops like a mountain on them all.

Killer grunts out a breath his lungs struggle to take back in, even at a distance. Vertigo paints his vision in smeared black and fading colors within seconds. Shanks moves, and that pressure moves with him – the Kid Pirates breathe as one, a hitched inhale as Kidd staggers mid-step and pulls up his arm just in time.

Metal clangs against metal, and blood splatters the ground.

Yet the grin on Kidd’s face goes nowhere; when Shanks pulls, his sword is slow to follow. The call of Kidd’s powers is strongest at close proximity, even for the blade of an Emperor, and for an instant their eyes lock, at a standstill.

(C’mon, Killer thinks. Kidd strains, and Killer’s arms tighten across his chest to stop his hands from shaking. Hold on, c’mon–)

Shanks smirks. “Huh. Not bad.”

The tension breaks, and Shanks– He lets go. Kidd blinks, draws back, sure on his feet again if cautious. From afar, Killer can see the gears turn in Kidd’s head, sweat trailing down his temples and breath labored while Shanks looks virtually unchanged. The glare of a sun at its zenith is reflected by Shanks’ sword; it shifts, is fully encased in the fist that rises against its master once more.

It cannot last, this tentative lull. They’re in the eye of a hurricane, a realization that finally registers in Killer’s mind, waiting for the storm to hit. They’re mice scuttling straight into the maw of a beast and Killer gasps, jolts forward.

“Captain–!”

A fraction of a second, and Shanks is upon Kidd. Haki sizzles where they meet, metal against bare skin: It’s brutal, it’s vicious, it doesn’t fucking matter that Shanks is missing an arm and a sword, not when his hand bursts Kidd’s fists into their individual pieces and keeps reaching.

Kidd’s eyes go wide; he grabs for Shanks, the red of his nails leaving bloody lines on the Emperor’s arm. Nothing moves in Shanks’ face, nothing as he digs fingers gone black with Haki into Kidd’s skin and watches it split apart.

Killer’s world narrows down to that, a sight that freezes the blood in his veins while Kidd’s spills from his neck and chest and soaks into the sand. “Kidd”, Killer whispers, “No, no”, and he’s tearing away from his crew and towards his captain. Not like this, not like this, until his arm catches on something and he can’t– He’s stuck–

“Kidd!!”

Shanks looks up at that, eyes dark, and it’s all it takes for Kidd to dislodge that grasp. To lurch away and back on his feet, throat working around a groan, a hand on his face. His fingers are drenched in blood.

“Stand back!”

And Killer stops, heart beating up his throat so hard it’s choking him. Kidd doesn’t look away from Shanks, the one eye left uncovered in full focus despite it all. “Knew you’d get serious eventually”, he spits, voice raw from the pain. He wipes his cheek against his shoulder, spreading the mess around.

Shanks merely raises an eyebrow. “Come on, then. Let’s finish this.”

“That kid is done for”, mumbles someone next to Killer, and only then does he realize he’s being held back by someone. Straight blond hair, a bandana, sunglasses – it doesn’t really matter who it is, just that they’re in the way.

Killer growls, scythes snapping out and starting to spin. The guy sighs, “Man, you have bigger problems than me right now”, mildly annoyed at most. “Look.”

Only his captain is allowed to give him orders but– Killer looks, the split-second he wasn’t lingering as Kidd recovers from a hit Killer didn’t see, and Shanks’ torn cloak billows behind him as he approaches in measured steps.

“This is why fighting you rookies is no fun. Got lucky with a fruit and then what? It’s so boring.”

Kidd’s hand goes for the dagger strapped to his chest; goes for it and doesn’t make it, Shanks’ fingers already there around his wrist, crushing. “Fuck you”, Kidd hisses, teeth painted crimson by the blood dripping into his mouth.

Even before the second word is out he’s knocked to the ground, sinking inches into the sand with the force of the boot pinning him there. “It’s not your turn just yet”, Shanks tells Kidd, mournful, almost.

Then he pulls. Kidd’s shoulder snaps out of its socket with a sickening noise, and Shanks keeps pulling, and Killer can only watch as muscle and skin and sinews go taut, are stretched to their limits and beyond. As, fiber by fiber, they give way to the white of bone underneath–

Kidd screams.

No!

Pain radiates up Killer’s side and his arm burns but he doesn’t care. Killer doesn’t care about the yell of “Hey, what the hell!” and the desperate calls of his name – his crew, his friends, so far away now –, doesn’t care it’s his captain who called for a duel and told him to stay away.

He sees Kidd on the ground, and he sees Shanks picking up his sword again, and Killer breaks through all lines drawn in the sand.

The killing blow is struck and Killer is there. Scythes crossed, sparks spraying where blade meets blade: Killer’s arms shake and his knees threaten to buckle yet he preservers through that infinite moment, feels the pressure double down before it lifts and time ticks on, heartbeat for frantic heartbeat.

“Enough!”

His voice rings out despite how rough it is, how every inhale aches all the way to his core. “Enough”, Killer repeats, standing between his captain and certain death. “You made your point.”

(Behind him, Kidd wheezes his name, “Kil”, garbled, weak. It sounds like No, like Get the fuck out of here, and Killer never imagined himself breaking the loyalty he swore to his dying breath and yet there is one imperative that stands above even that.)

Shanks’ head is tilted to the side, a twist to his mouth Killer would call petulant if it weren’t a fucking Emperor he’s talking to. There’s blood on his face, dotted in an abstract pattern up to the scars across his eye. Arterial spray, still wet.

“I don’t think your captain is very happy with you right now.”

“That’s for my captain to decide”, says Killer, coldly. Barely turns his head to call, “Heat! Wire!”, and with familiar steps shuffling closer and Kidd’s agonized gasps of “No, n-no, Killer” growing fainter, Killer takes a stance, scythes ready and lithe body poised to strike.

“You’re fighting me now, Red-Haired Shanks.”

Shanks just sighs, rubs at his brow with stained fingers. “So you know you don’t stand a chance and yet, here we are. What a mess.”

Surrounded by enemies on all sides, Killer doesn’t cower. “Eustass Kidd will be the man to become Pirate King”, he tells Shanks, tells the world, boots firmly planted on the ground thoroughly steeped in Kidd’s blood. It’s the fundamental truth they sail by, the dream they came up with, together.

“He will be King, and I’m the man who will get him there. My life’s as good a price as any to pay for that.”

It’s then that Shanks looks at him, fixes him with that stare like he’s only now bothering to take note of Killer’s existence. “One Piece, huh? Haven’t heard that dream in a while”, he muses, a certain softness there that seems– out of place, somehow.

“Listen. Just ‘cause Whitebeard’s gone now doesn’t mean you kids can waltz in here and start shit you’re not ready to finish. Got it? Playtime’s over. If it's a new era you want, stay alive long enough to carry it.”

There’s an out there, Killer can see it. A line of flight he doesn’t deserve, not after breaking every code of honor their kind adheres to. Shanks sheathes his sword, gestures over his shoulder for the bottle that lands in his palm an instant later. A messy gulp, and Shanks chuckles, all smiles now.

“Your captain’s got some potential, I’ll give him that. The arm’s a goner but it’s not the end of the world. Builds character, and all that.”

Killer should say something about that, about the chatty tone the Emperor strikes as if he wasn’t ripping Kidd apart bare-handed just minutes ago. Beyond the beach Benn Beckman lights another cigarette and he nods at Killer, a pointed gesture. Get out of here.

Nothing. There’s nothing left to say, and so Killer turns his back. Leaves his pride right there in the sand where his captain almost lost his life, and follows the trail of blood through the parting crowd of Shanks’ crew and into the sea’s uncaring arms.

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #red-haired shanks #kidkiller #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #i'm back and still on my bullshit as you can see #this fic is also on AO3!! #my stuff #shanks took one good look at kidd and went yup. mini-me in the making

[mail-me-a-snail]

House Keys

chase…oh chase i love you so but you’re in for it now. chase brody, the former bro average superstar, comes home for the first time in a year.

part 1 part 2 part 3 Even if Chase Brody had moved out the year prior, he still has the keys to his brothers’ house. He stands now on the crisp, green lawn and swings the key-chain around. He cards a hand through his hair and rubs his eyes—he doesn’t get much sleep these days. Three years before he moved into his brothers’ house, he was sleeping in the back of his car. He’s been conditioned to fall asleep on the hard leather of the car seat, not in his own bed. He didn’t have a bed those weeks. Stacy and him still don’t talk.

He shoots Marvin a text.

hey bro im outside. will come in with the keys. jackie okay? are you all okay? There’s no response. Chase shrugs and tucks his phone into the pocket of his jeans. He’s a little hurt, but it’s fine. It’s Chase’s first visit since he’s moved out. It’s exactly as he remembers it. The lawn is in immaculate condition, with the hedges trimmed neatly and flowers springing up all over the place—Jameson was always in charge of that. He has an eye for lawn care. He takes after Jack. The door and porch are dark mahogany, though it’s washed in orange now as the sun is starting to set. The house itself is painted an egg white. The tiles of the roof are black. Potted plants litter the porch, some new, some old, but all beautiful and trimmed to perfection. No doubt it’s Marvin’s work. The sidewalk he stands on is decorated with faded chalk drawings. Robbie. Of course. Chase is standing on his own face drawn in chalk. It’s a wonderful likeness and Chase can’t help but smile. Robbie even got the faded green in his hair. He steps off. He doesn’t want to ruin a masterpiece. The light in the wide upper story window—Henrik’s room—is off. The doctor’s probably getting his much needed and deserved forty winks. The only light on is in the living room. He takes a deep breath, the kind that pulls his shoulders up like he’s shrugging, and walks towards the door. Anxiety wriggles in his belly. He clutches the keys tightly in his hand—they bite into the skin and leave an impression with their teeth. He remembers the call with Marvin the night before. He had been in his apartment putting together some videos when his phone had rung. Marvin had explained everything to him; finding Jackie bleeding out in the city, teleporting him home, the surgeries…all of it. Jackie was okay, Marvin had assured him, and that he would heal. But the fact that it was…was you-know-who’s work… It hadn’t stop his hands from shaking as soon as he said goodbye and dropped the call nor did it let him breathe. His panic attacks were always bad, but he managed the one he had that night fine. And the one in the bathroom this morning. On the drive here, too. He doesn’t have everything under control yet. Being here again reminds him of all the times you-know-who had been there. He had been there, for Jack and Henrik. It went the same way; a phone call. A panic attack. The fear. Now it’s happening all over again. Why can’t he ever escape the demon? Why can’t any of them? Even a year after…he still looks over his shoulder and tosses and turns at night. When will he stop being afraid? The keys bite into his palm like his old dog had lovingly done. He misses him. Stacy had to take that away from him, too. The sting and the thought of Bulls-eye grounds Chase and he lets go, letting it hang by the key-chain instead. Deep breaths. He slides the key into the lock and turns. The door opens. Chase looks around as he steps into the hall. It’s just the same. The walls are orange. The umbrella stand to the right of the door filled with Marvin’s props, the coat hanger opposite, and the stairs upwards at the very front. To his immediate left is the closed door to Henrik’s makeshift clinic. To his right is the doorway to the living room. There’s a movie on, though Chase can’t identify it as the volume is set way down low. He doesn’t know where to go first as he stands awkwardly in the middle space. “Hello?” He says to the seemingly empty house. “Is anyone home? Marv? Schneep?” “Chase,” His heart skips a beat when he hears the raspy call from the living room, but he brightens when he recognizes the voice. “In here.” Chase has to stop himself from running into the living room. Brown couch, flat screen TV (playing Die Hard, of course), wide windows, and white curtains that blow softly. The coffee table has coffee mug rings on it and abandoned medical supplies like gauze, cotton balls, and antibiotics. Henrik’s neatly folded coat, too. Jackie sits on the couch in a black t-shirt with the brightly coloured graphic of a cartoon dog on a bicycle. He wears the flamingo shorts to accompany it. It’s the first time Chase has seen the hero out of his supersuit; it almost feels wrong. His hair is the neon green Chase remembers it to be. He’s wearing his mask. The only sign he’s been hurt at all are the bandages around his neck and forehead. He’s hardly watching the movie. He has a big smile on his face, the toothy kind of sunshine Chase missed so much. “Jackie,” he breathes. Chase wants to cry with relief. He settles with hugging Jackie as tightly as he can. “I missed you, Jackie,” he says, muffled as he buries his head into the hero’s chest. “I was so worried about you!” “O-ow, ow,” the other hacks out a laugh and winces, patting Chase’s back. “I missed you, too, bud, but…stab wound.” “Shit, right, sorry.” Chase lets go, albeit reluctantly. “Dude, how are you? It’s, I mean—I’ve never been stabbed before.” “I don’t recommend it,” Jackie grimaces. There’s humour in his voice but he also sounds exhausted. “You get here okay?” “Parked out front,” he says, “Came in with the keys. Still have ‘em.” He holds them up to confirm that. He drops them in his lap. “How’re you holding up?” “This thing—” Jackie pats his stomach, presumably where the wound is. “—is a bitch and a half of pain. The neck thing I can handle. It just hurts to talk.” He coughs. It sounds like shaking a dead bush. “Really hurts.” “Oh, I can do the talking, if you want.” “No, it’s okay, Chase. Marvin did something to me, I think, when I was out. Makes my mouth and throat taste like mint. Pretty soothing, actually. Besides, I haven’t seen you in forever! I want to talk.” How can he be so chipper even after he almost died? Chase doesn’t understand it. He really is a comic book superhero. Always getting back up again. “Aw, it hasn’t been that long,” Chase ducks his head, sheepish, but straightens right away. “Can I ask, though? What…what happened?” The silence is thick with tension. Chase bounces his leg, the sole of his sneaker squeaking against the hardwood floor, and pulls at the rubber bracelet around his right wrist under his hoodie sleeve. He picks at the multicoloured bandages on his fingers and arms. Jackie turns the TV off just as John McClain launches himself through a window. He turns to Chase. Their knees touch. “This is what I remember,” Jackie says, and begins. He had met Anti during one of his day patrols, but it wasn’t the song and dance number they usually did; it was in the back-alleys where no one could see them. Maybe that’s what Anti wanted. Maybe it wasn’t. “Anti had…had said something to me,” he mumbles, “that I’m not the hero I think I am. That all of what we do, this hero versus villain thing, is just a show. I-I don’t know why he’s been pretending this long, or…or what he hopes to gain, but…” Chase watches him closely. Jackie stops, shakes his head, and moves on. That’s how the hero has always been. Hit a wall? Just go around. Forget about the wall and keep going. He remembers the fight—and the pinning stab through the gut. The words Anti whispered into his ear. Chase is trembling with raw anger as he sees the large dark bruise marks wrapped around Jackie’s neck where Anti’s hands had been. “But after that,” he growls in frustration, “I can’t remember anything else. By my wound here, I can guess what finished me off.” He taps his neck. “Everything else is beyond me.” “Fuck him” Chase breathes, voice quivering with fury, “You’re a hero to me, to everyone. To Jack.” Jackie flinches when he hears those words. “I don’t have any powers,” Jackie mutters. “What? Yeah, you do! That—that super strength of yours!” “Anti can manipulate objects,” Jackie shoots back, “Time and space, just like Marvin can. How do I know he hasn’t been doing it for me this whole time?” “I…I don’t know.” The anger evaporates as quickly as it came. “I-I don’t want to talk about this.” Jackie throws his hands up. “Please, Chase, let’s…let’s talk about you, okay? I want to hear about where you’ve been—what you’ve done.” Chase bites his lip, trying to find a way to stop the subject from changing. The one frustrating thing about superheroes? They build walls around them, shutting the people they love out hoping to save them from whatever inner turmoil they’re wrangling with. …Chase isn’t stupid or in denial. Even he can admit the similarities between them. But that’s just it. Chase knows he does it—Jackie doesn’t. He’d rather not push further and get into an argument, spoiling the whole visit, so Chase drops it. It’ll sit in the back of his mind, though. He tells Jackie about the new apartment; it’s spacious and less of a dump than the last one. Modest kitchen, shower instead of a tub. “I miss the tub here,” he says forlornly, gesturing to the stairs. “And my little rubber ducky. Shower’s okay, though.” He earns Jackie’s laugh. The apartment is far into the city, maybe ten blocks away from the alley Marvin had found Jackie in, and just across a coffee shop. Having cleaner, more colorful walls than ugly white granite that popcorned helps a lot to take his mind off more…painful things. He hung up posters, bought a flatscreen, had a whole new gaming rig up for himself—he’s doing okay for himself, he thinks. The therapy, the talking, has brought him out of the hole he was in three years before. He tells him about new friends. Baristas at the coffee shop who’ve recognized him as a regular. YouTube is more fun than anything for him right now. The Bro Average brand was dissolved, but he couldn’t care less. It had been time for a fresh start. His channel is up and running and he’s been invited to panels, talks, and conventions. Some people from AA said they had watched his videos. He tells Jackie about how good it is to just. Work. To produce content for others to consume, to make people happy, but not at the cost of his own happiness. He notices he’s rambling when Jackie says nothing and keeps beaming at him. He falters and lets his words trail off into silence. “What?” Chase says. “I’m so proud of you,” Jackie replies, and the pride is trembling in his voice. “Chase, you’ve gotten so far without us. You’ve got a job, a new house—you’re practically shining!” “You’re…you’re proud of me? You mean it?” Chase feels himself smile, too. “Yes. I’m proud.” Jackie puts a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my bro. You’re the bravest damn person I know and you’ve come out of this so strong, so…it’s…Jack would be proud too.” Chase understands why he starts crying. That’s all he ever wanted. To hear those words come out of Jackie’s mouth. It means he’s done it. He’s gotten better. Maybe not recovered fully, not just yet, but better. Even in his joy, he hates himself for crying because whenever he cries he bawls like a big baby. He buries his face into Jackie’s chest, shoulders shaking. He’s staring at the cartoon dog through blurry, teary eyes. The dog says, in a neon bubble, “RADICAL!” The other rubs his back in soothing circles. “That’s it, buddy,” Jackie whispers, “I’ve got you, bro.” Chase swallows thickly, sniffles, and wipes his face with the back of his hand. Jackie hands him a tissue and he blows. His eyes are stuffy. He looks up into Jackie’s eyes, milky white, hidden behind the film in the mask, but he can tell they’re full of soft, unspoken love. The hero holds his cheek. “Chase Brody Mcloughlin,” Jackie declares, “I, your loving bro, will never stop being proud of you. Don’t forget that.” “Thanks, Jackie,” he sniffs, wiping his eyes. “Thank you. It’s…i-it’s nice to hear that what I’m doing is finally right.” “We’re all proud of you.” Jackie’s hand drops but gives Chase’s shoulder one last firm pat. “S-speaking of,” Chase clears his throat. “Speaking of…where is everyone?” Jackie blanks. “Uh,” he says, unsure. “Good question, actually! No idea. I woke up, like, ten minutes before you came in. I kind of assumed Henrik went to work, and who knows where Marvin is at any given time? JJ and Robbie are out on vacation or something. It’s just Henrik, Marvin, and I.” “Huh,” Chase frowns and stands. “You wait here, Jackie. Henrik can’t have gone to work; he’d never leave you here alone.” “Marvin would be watching over me!” He argues. “This is Marvin we’re talking about!” He shoots back as he leaves the room. He considers going upstairs but stops before he can do it. He notices, to his surprise, that across the hall the clinic’s lights are on. How did he not notice that coming in? The harsh white fluorescents bounce off the tiles and under the door. Chase knocks. “Doc? Marv?” He says, “Yoo-hoo. Anyone in there?” Of course, unsettling silence follows. Great. Chase has played enough horror games to know that whatever’s on the other side is bad. He flinches as glass shatters behind the door. A shadow moves under the door. “Henrik?” “Schiesse!” comes a muffled curse to answer. Angry German swearing? Yeah. That’s Henrik. “What the hell was that?!” Jackie says from the couch, halfway to standing. Chase notices he’s wobbling like a newborn deer. “Jackie, get back on the couch,” Chase scolds the hero, “You’re in no condition to walk!” He turns back to the door. “Doc, I’m coming in.” He takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob, and turns. What he finds on the other side isn’t horrible, so he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Henrik, hair messy and eye bags seemingly darker, clutching his head, is kneeling among shattered glass. From the way the metal table beside the hospital bed is on its side, Chase surmises that Henrik knocked it and the beakers that were on it to the ground when he tried to stand. “Doc!” He exclaims, rushing over to Henrik. He takes the doctor by the arm, helping him up, and looping the arm around his shoulders. “Danke,” Henrik grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “Chase, is that you?” “A-are you blind, Henrik?” Panic momentarily flares up in him. “Oh, jeez, I can get something for your eyes. Maybe ice—” “No,” Henrik sighs, but in the most affectionate way possible. He opens his eyes halfway, tired grey-blues looking up at him. “Chase, relax. I’m not blind. It’s these damn fluorescents—they could make me go blind. I don’t know why I thought they were a good idea. This nausea…it’s like someone took a hammer to my skull. Might as well have… I see enough of those lights in the hospital. Is it any wonder I wear glasses…” Henrik reaches into his pocket for something. He swears again as he brings out the bent and cracked frames of his glasses. “Oh, that is just great,” he hisses under his breath, “They must’ve gotten smashed in the fight.” “T…the what?” This is plenty strange already, but of course, he just has to notice only now that Marvin is crumpled in a desk chair, long, flowy hair messy and tangled, falling behind him as his head leans back, showing his neck. “Oh my God—Marvin!” “He’s okay,” Henrik straightens, though he’s still too weak to stand. Chase helps him into another chair. The doctor sits down with a sigh of relief, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. “What the hell happened here?” Chase gestures vaguely to the entire room. “To Marvin? Actually, to you? Was it…was it you-know-who?” “Anti,” the doctor spits. Chase winces at the name. “It’s not right to fear his name. He and I had an…encounter last night. I thought I was going to die.” He briefly touches his neck. Chase sees all the scars crisscrossed there; it’s why the doctor wears turtlenecks to work. He’s always been insecure about them. “I thought it was all over but…but I woke up here. My head hurts like a bitch but I’ve got no other wounds. My neck, my concussion—they’re healed, like they were never there. "So, I have reason to believe,” he continues, “Marvin used the full extent of his magic to save me. It’s probably why he’s passed out.” “He’s always been shit at restoration magic,” Chase jokes, but turns serious right away. “Jesus, doc. Are you really okay? Why the fuck did you-know-wh—I mean,—A…Anti go after you?” “Teach me a lesson? Finish me off?” Henrik raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. God, I’m sorry, Chase, that this is the scene you’ve returned to. You’ve had enough of this…this Anti business, and now we’re dragging you back into it. Forgive me.” “No, doc, don’t say that,” Chase waves him off, “it’s not your fault. Besides, the guy’s messing with my brothers. That’s not gonna fly with me.” His voice shakes. He knows how unconvincing his moxie is. He swallows the stone in his throat and turns away before Henrik can call him out on it. The man crosses the room and takes a trauma blanket from the cabinet—he practically knows the clinic as well as Henrik does—and drapes it over Marvin. The magician barely stirs. He’s completely out. “CHASE? IS EVERYONE OKAY?” Jackie shouts from the living room. Chase startles and nearly knocks some important doodad over. Henrik’s blue eyes crackle to life at the sound of the hero’s voice. “He’s okay,” he says more to himself than Chase, “Oh, God, he’s okay.” To Chase, he says, “Chase, help me up—I must see Jackie.” “But what about Marv?” “He’ll need rest. Neither of us are strong enough to move him upstairs. Please, Chase, let’s go.” Henrik is almost begging. The tone unnerves and stirs Chase into action. He helps the doctor, slowly and surely, into the living room. “Henrik?” Jackie breaths, “What happened to you? Why are you limping? Is Marvin o—” Henrik launches himself from Chase’s arms and onto Jackie, nearly tackling the hero into the sofa. Jackie grunts in pain. “You idiot,” Henrik growls, though with utmost love. “You had me so worried! You could’ve died.” He hugs Jackie tight, despite his weak state. “Don’t ever do that again.” “What, get stabbed?” When Henrik glares up at him, he sobers. “Okay, okay. I won’t. I promise. Chase, where’s Marvin?” “Getting some rest,” Chase explains, “He used a whole bunch of his magic to heal Henrik. A-Anti attacked the doc last night.” “He…what?” Jackie’s tone is dangerously quiet. His shoulders are tense—he looks like an apex predator. It takes everything in Chase not to back away. “Calm yourself,” Henrik cautions, “I’m okay now. Marvin made sure of it. It is true; I had a fight with Anti and…I did not emerge the victor. But it’s alright. I’m alright.” Jackie deflates and hugs Henrik back. “I’m glad you’re okay, doc.” “You too, Jackie.” Chase bites his lip and leaves the room. He knows what he said about Anti, that he’d be ready to fight the demon again, given the chance. It’s one big lie, because he is fucking terrified of Anti, terrified of the fact that this is all very real, and that it had gotten all too real very fast. He wants to run away in that stupid little way of his, where he drives and drives until he can’t or locks himself up in his room, anywhere where Anti can’t reach him. He’s managed not to see the demon for a full year. He can’t do this. He can’t. Not again. Not again. – Chase goes up to his room and finds the hatch to the roof still unlocked. He goes out and sits there, on the uncomfortable tiles, and stares up at the stars. It’s somewhere around 11:30, maybe midnight. He doesn’t check his phone. Henrik’s gone to sleep. Jackie had helped Chase move Marvin to the couch. The both of them weren’t nearly strong enough to bring him up to his bedroom. Some part of Chase is telling him to relapse. To drink. He snaps the rubber bracelet against his wrist over and over instead. It makes an angry red mark. It’s a distraction. It makes him all the more ashamed of how fast he crumbles in the face of all this. He’s hasn’t gotten better. Even in the darkness, he knows what the bracelet says. He’s seen it, worn it ever since the last time Anti had tormented him. Alcoholics Anonymous, in white letters against a garish neon green. His mouth tastes of smoke. His eyes are heavy. He is tired and deflated. His brothers nearly dead—what a sight to come home to. At least now, he’s here for them. He is so tired, he doesn’t turn around when the hatch opens and Jackie sits beside him. He’s changed out of that cartoon dog shirt—he sports one of Henrik’s striped shirts. “Hey,” Jackie greets him softly. Chase can see the hero watching the bracelet snap repeatedly against his wrist, which he doesn’t stop. “Hey.” Silence. Cicadas. Snap. Snap. Snap. “How long have you been sober?” Chase knows how much Jackie wants to say more, but he doesn’t. It’s a simple question. “A year.” An exact year from the last time Anti hurt him. He and Jackie match in scars now. Not on the neck, though. “Dude, that’s awesome. I’m proud of you.” The words are hollow. He doesn’t deserve them. Snap. Snap. Snap. “Chase?” Snap. Snap. Snap. “Welcome home.” Chase breaths shakily. His wrist stings. He cries, the fourth time that day, and bites back the urge to scream. “He’s g-going to f-find me again,” he says through quick breaths, “I’m n-next.” “Chase…” The man shakes his head furiously. “I-I’m not leaving. If he think he can fucking s-scare me,” Chase hiccups, “he’s w-wrong. I’m tired of r-running away. I’m going to fight.” Nothing, for a moment. Then, Jackie says, “It’s what Jack would’ve wanted.” Chase cries harder at that. He wants to toss his house keys off this damn roof and never see them again, because they remind him too much of the doors he’s just opened up. He’s not afraid. Shaking and sobbing, he is not afraid. He is furious.

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #fanfiction #fic #nearly 4k words if you'll believe #jse #mine #my writing #alcoholism tw #alcohol ment #writersofjack

[elleonmybeloved]

A New Muse

Winx Club | Flora x Helia Words:5785 Chapter 1 Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431853/chapters/53596288

Summary:  Ever wonder what goes on in that freakishly strong poet guy's mind when it comes to Flora? A retelling of the events of their experiences together in season 2 but this time you don't have to guess at Helia's personality.The mind of a teenage guy can be an interesting thing.

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

“No way dude, Kellthorn is totally winning this. Miran might be at the top of his class, but he’s just a sophomore. Kellthorn’s got two years of experience on him.”

“You obviously haven’t seen Miran fight. He’s got this one in the bag.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure. Whoever loses buys dinner.”

“Hah! You’re so on.”

Helia had chosen a seat surrounded by empty space in the hopes of getting whatever peace he could at such a loud and chaotic event as the reopening of the Red Fountain stadium, but unfortunately he could still hear the bickering of some excited specialists from his corner seat.

He hadn’t even wanted to come in the first place, but Uncle Saladin had made him a deal too good to refuse… and well, just about anything seemed worth it in the face of getting a new set of WeiLu brushes. Enhanced with a secret potion formula and made from the finest of unicorn hairs, the kind of elegant and versatile brushwork they could produce was a worthwhile trade for a few hours of mild suffering.

“Yes!! I told you Kellthorn would win. Mmm, I can taste the pricey Italian alfredo already!”

“Aw man, can’t we just go out for pizza dude?”

“Nope. This is what you get for underestimating a real specialist’s strength!”

Helia hid an expression of disdain. What good came of obsessing so much over strength? In his opinion, it was pathetic to take such pleasures in brutish delight. The best this school had going for it were it’s few intellectuals, but they always failed to acknowledge the balance of technology and nature.

The new design of Red Fountain’s campus would be one example of such. Floating among the clouds with the help of technology and magic, but a part of the natural beauty of the sky, floating like a cloud, and gravity’s brush painting the long cascades of water that fell from all sides, like a waterfall.

Not that anybody would notice that.

A flock of doves landed at his feet, cooing on their way down. Pleased, he leaned forward and turned a new page in his sketchbook, trying to capture the grace in their flight. They had such fluffy feathers, like clouds. He made several short, curved strokes, trying to imitate the downy feathers and the soft clouds above simultaneously.

“Hmm…” He was pleased with the overall shape, but he wasn’t sure he had succeeded in what he had been trying to do.

“According to my calculations, this is the best angle to watch the event!”

Glancing up briefly, he noticed a few of his specialist acquaintances approaching with a group of young women he suspected were Alfea fairies. Looks like his newfound peace wasn’t going to last long after all. He went back to his sketch.

“Hey, who’s that ?” He supposed he should have knocked on wood. One of the fairies had noticed him already. Helia pressed his lips together at the subsequent uncomfortable sensation of several pairs of eyes on him.

“Oooh, he’s kind ce-yute… is he a transfer student? I’d remember if I’d seen him before.”

This one’s loud voice grated harshly on his ears. Helia suppressed a sigh.

“That’s just Helia.” From the unamused tone in Brandon’s voice, he made the quick connection of the identity of the loud blonde as his royal girlfriend.

“Helia is Saladin’s nephew.” Timmy never missed a chance to list off the facts.

He almost didn’t hear the next voice. Unlike the others it was quiet and soft, and not easily heard over the ambient noise of the crowd.

“Then he must be a talented specialist. Is he going to be in the competition?”

“Actually no, he’s not a hero.” Brandon was quick to explain. “He goes to art school, but Saladin’s trying to convince him to transfer here.”

And he’d need a better bribe than high quality art supplies to pull that off.

“The problem is, he’s a pacifist, and doesn’t believe in violence.”

“Huh, what a shame.”

He flipped to the next page and began another sketch, not really wanting to hear the usual judgements of how lame or cowardly he “must be” that usually ensued the disclosure of that information.

“Actually, I think that’s wonderful…” The quiet voice was so full of genuine admiration, it shocked him.

Finally looking up from his sketchbook, his gaze raked over the group of girls, searching for the owner of that voice.

“I’d like to meet him and hear his point of view.”

Her shy expression wasn’t hidden by the blonde like she had been the first time he’d looked at the group, nor was the rest of her. For that, Helia was thankful. He would’ve been extremely remiss had he never gotten a chance to lay eyes on this fairy.

Helia took his time drinking in the sight. Her petite form, the deep green of her eyes, the delicate swell of her pink bottom lip, the glow of her smooth caramel skin, and the delicately curled waves of her long chestnut hair that flowed loosely in the slight breeze were enticing. More than those, however, was her posture: graceful yet shy, and the way she wore her expression: open and kind.

It was exactly the kind of raw, gentle beauty he found himself chasing so often in his artwork. Most fairies were physically attractive, but he always found their “pretty” to be boring and repetitive. It was refreshing to encounter something different.

“Sure, I’ll introduce ya.”

Helia set down his brush and shifted his leg in anticipation as Brandon approached, giving the specialist an inquisitive gaze.

“Hey Helia.”

“Hello.”

“These ladies here are my friends. Let me introduce you.” Brandon turned to indicate each girl with one hand as he rattled off their names.

“This is Tecna, and that’s Layla, and-”

“I’m Princess Stella of Solaria!” The blonde chirped enthusiastically as she inserted herself in front of the one girl who’s name Helia was actually curious to know. “I’m actually a big supporter of the arts and-...”

Perhaps it was worth the delay, because the brief flash of disappointment in the other fairy’s eyes at the lost chance to be introduced pleased him. He was glad she wanted him to know who she was.

“-you’re an artist, right? Can you show me your sketchbook?” Helia tuned back in to what the blonde was saying in time to hear what was probably simultaneously the most annoying and most asked question of every artist of all time. As usual, he ignored it.

He stood and gave a formal bow of greeting to the group, coaxing forward his best friendly smile. “It is an honor to meet all of you.”

“With all due respect, Helia, why are you drawing on paper?” The one introduced as Tecna asked. “Such a primitive antique. Graphic palettes are so much better.”

He didn’t have a chance to answer as what he assumed was Tecna’s bonded pixie began regaling him on all the specs of such digital equipment. Helia raised an eyebrow and tried to keep his polite smile.

Except the blonde then casually took his sketchbook right out of his hands.

“Wooow!” She gushed, shamelessly flipping through the pages. It was too quickly for her to really be looking at them. “These are greeeaat ! You’re perfect to do my royal portrait.” She gave him a wide, expectant grin as if she’d just given him a great honor.

And then unceremoniously shoved his sketchbook into the hands of the gentle girl.

Stella continued on about having her people call his people or some nonsense, he was only paying attention to the almost reverent way the girl was holding his sketchbook, taking her time on each drawing and turning the pages gently.

Helia was quiet as he awaited her response to what she saw there, curious what she’d have to say.

“Your brush strokes capture the dove’s moment so beautifully.” She sighed, still looking at the drawing. “The way you’ve drawn the wings -  it’s like they’re hugging the clouds and the sky and the dove… become one.” Meeting his eyes at her last words, she seemed a bit chagrined, but passed his sketchbook back with a shy smile.

He was a little stunned and mechanically took it back from her before speaking.

“That’s… exactly what I had in mind. I wasn’t sure I’d managed to pull it off... I love that you got that.”

The girl let out a nervous laugh, like she’d been expecting him to make fun of what she said and was relieved that wasn’t the case.

If anything, it was the opposite.

“He-hem. And this is Flora.” Brandon’s knowing smirk was annoying but the important information he just imparted was enough for him to get away with it.

“Hmm, Flora.” He murmured quietly, immediately testing out the name on his tongue.

Flora . Of course her name was Flora, he thought, a girl with all the beauty and grace of nature. Like a wood nymph of legend. He wondered how she would feel about letting him draw her sometime.

“Anyways, we need to go start getting ready. I’ll see you girls later.” Brandon said, winking at Stella before he and the other specialists broke off from the group.

Helia took the opportunity to take his own leave. He didn’t want to risk getting dust or rubble on his sketchbook while the “Big Reveal” was taking place, and as it was he was thirsty. His uncle surely wouldn’t begrudge him getting some water before returning.

The group of fairies chatted animatedly as they took their seats, and though he resisted the temptation to turn his head for a last look, his wondered about warning the gentle fairy about what most of the audience would probably perceive as an earthquake…

...Nah, she would be fine.

And if she wasn’t, he’d be there to rescue her.

---

Flora would do anything to save those she cared about, so while she wasn’t particularly brave, she volunteered to be bait in their plan to get rid of the monster attacking Red Fountain.

Her magic was primarily defensive after all. She’d leave it to the heavy hitters to bash this thing down.

Steeling her nerves, she flew around the face of the monster, trying not to look at it’s scary gaping maw that was no doubt right behind her.

Finally, the signal. The spell Bloom and the others had been charging were ready.

“Aaieee!” Flora panicked, suddenly covered head to toe in a stick substance that stang where it touched her skin. She’d reflexively squeezed her eyes shut, but now she couldn’t open them. She shouldn’t have looked away!

“Oh no, that’s what it does right before it eats you!” Bloom’s voice sounded hopelessly far away.

“I-I can’t see!” She stammered, trying her best to shake the goo off with little success.

Flora knew she needed to keep moving, but what if she flew into the monster’s awaiting mouth? There was a spell for this, of course, but her mind was blank in her panic and it would take several seconds she didn’t have to cast it. Her breath left her in gasps, and she sobbed, curling in on herself in anticipation of the sharp teeth she knew were coming to crush her in two.

But those teeth never came.

“What the- look, it’s being restrained by glowing cords!”

Still unable to see, Flora frantically chanted the spell while she had the opportunity, and after a few agonizing seconds, the goo vanished and she opened her eyes.

Instead of the gaping maw she’d expected, the monster was several feet from her, bound in a glowing gold cord. Her eyes followed the line up to a high ledge.

There stood her hero. His bicep flexed as he effortlessly restrained the monster with a single hand, the cords extending out from a white glove on his left hand. The folds of his loose poet’s shirt billowed in the wind.

An odd sensation buzzed in her chest.

“How did that happen?”

“Haha!” Sky’s laughter sounded surprised. “It seems like we have a new hero!”

“What? Where?” Brandon swung his dragon around.

“He’s up there.” Flora couldn’t keep the smile off her lips. “Helia.”

Following her gaze, Brandon’s eyes just about bugged at the sight of the young man. A smug smile on his face, still keeping the powerful beast restrained with just one hand.

“Wh- Helia ? How could an art student do that?” From his tone it sounded like he hadn’t expected Helia to be able to fight at all.

“Well, he is Saladin’s nephew… maybe heroics is in his blood?”

But Helia wasn’t paying attention to them anymore. Or the monster. He was looking straight at her. When he spoke, the soft concern in his voice made her throat go dry.

“Are you okay, Flora?”

“I- uhhh…” She didn’t really feel okay, she felt weird in her chest, and she’d almost been eaten by a monster with very sharp teeth. She should thank him right? Or maybe... reward him with a kiss? She covered her face with her hands at the embarrassing thought, immediately banishing it. “Uhhh?”

Sky laughed. “She’s okay.” He still seemed shocked, gazing incredulously at the artist.

“Hmm.” He seemed pleased with that.

And then let go of the monster in one fluid movement. Flora didn’t miss the cheeky smile that quirked up at the corner of his lips.

Her friends reacted immediately, shocked and enraged, but Flora was transfixed. Helia just walked confidently away, barely seeming to hurry at all for the monster that slammed an angry fist near where he’d just been standing.

He just calmly walked away with a satisfied expression on his face.

It was startlingly cocksure compared to her first impression of him. She couldn’t decide if he was humble or reckless… but regardless, she found the display incredibly attractive.

---

As much as he hadn’t expected a giant monster to crash the tournament ceremony, he’d appreciated the opportunity it had presented.

Helia decided he’d liked the look on Flora’s face when she opened her eyes and turned to him and saw him as her savior.

There was something in her eyes, a kind of trust that was so tempting. In that moment, it had satisfied him more than any of the art he’d made that day. The way she’d watched his arm, assessed his capabilities… he sort of felt like a preening bird in that moment, oddly. He didn’t usually care much for competing with others, but to have won her sole attention had been so satisfying he maybe needed to revisit that.

He wanted to see her look at him like that again.

Helia had succeeded in his first attempt to impress her, but what could he do to do it again? Hmm, perhaps… ah, yes.

An hour later, he managed to track down the group’s whereabouts, the specialists and fairies lounging in the courtyard against some trees. Flora sat alone against the base of a tree, eyes closed and looking peaceful as she relaxed.

It would be a shame to disturb her.

Folding his drawing into a paper airplane, he tossed it in an arc, letting it catch the wind.

A lucky throw - it landed right beside her.

Helia watched from out of her sight as her expression changed from one of curiosity, to shock, and then joy as she saw that it was a portrait of herself.

Flora looked around for him, but when she couldn’t spot him, she smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and happily hugged the drawing to her chest, holding it tightly like it was precious. It seemed attempt number two was a success.

Helia smiled too.

---

The next time Helia saw her again was several weeks later.

Despite his original resistance, with a bit more bribing on his Uncle’s part, he’d caved and joined Red Fountain. When asked, he’d said it was because he was bored and interested in a change of scenery.

But really, he was just concerned about his uncle’s safety here. They’d found no evidence in the aftermath of the beast’s attack to identify the perpetrator, which was odd. And meant that whoever was unsuccessful the first time might come back to finish the job.

His hunch turned out to be correct, the mayhem globe wreaking havoc on campus could attest to that. Unfortunately, nothing they were trying was having much of an effect.

Helia had happened to be outside, trying to find a pattern to the globe’s movements when she’d showed up, long hair streaking behind her as she and her friends ran to come offer their aid.

To be honest, he’d only thought of her a couple of times since. Sure he was interested, but he didn’t know the first thing about her. Though he wasn’t inexperienced, he wasn’t really the type to chase women.

But now that he saw her again, he was reminded of why he was attracted to her. It was those same eyes, that tempting expression.

In battle she was brave and kind, and smart enough to know her limits. But in the end, they lost the codex, despite their best efforts.

---

It was another several weeks before he saw Flora again. But this period of time, unlike the last, he spent thinking of her often.

It had started when Sky had asked Bloom to be his girlfriend after being revived from death by her power. Though he was happy with the situation, he’d come to Helia for advice on how to take her out on dates she’d enjoy.

And then Timmy had approached him soon after to ask for help in wooing Tecna, having failures to capture her heart with several gifts.

Happy with the results of his half hearted counseling, they’d formed a habit of “thanking” him with things they heard about Flora from their girlfriends.

“She likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Pink is her favorite color.”

“There’s a large vine plant that grows in her room. She calls it Leafy. Apparently she snuggles it at night sometimes.”

There were admittedly some interesting things among the asinine.

“She mispronounced a spell in class the other day, saying your name instead of helion .”

“It’s supposed to be a secret, but Bloom says that sometimes Flora makes weird noises when sleeping with her vine plant and the room smells strongly of sweet sap.”

That one had earned Sky a glare, if only for telling him that someplace public enough to be inappropriate for the boner Helia was then sporting.

Helia had then proceeded to have a very heated dream about the subject and he’d given up trying to resist his attraction that morning.

He wanted to see her again. He wanted to know more. He wanted to hear it from her lips, in that gentle voice.

But it had been weeks… and besides, it was possible she wasn’t interested. Or had someone else in her heart.

“Hmmph.” He scowled down at the journal of poems below him, tearing off the sheet and balling it up before tossing it and beginning anew.

Her voice is the whisper of wind-swept trees

Putting my troubled mind at ease

Her eyes are lit with a new star’s aura

I long to be close to my dear Flora

...It seemed the muse wasn’t with him tonight. Maybe a hot shower would help him relax… he set down the pad and headed towards the bathroom, pulling the strings of his shirt loose.

As usual, he took long showers. It took time to wash and condition all of his hair after all.

He was just patting it dry when he heard a noise in his room.

That was odd. Had something fallen?

But when he walked out to check, everything was in place. The sound must have come from the adjacent dorm.

Glancing at the poem, he decided to give it a rest for the night and go to bed. Maybe the right words would come to him tomorrow.

---

“You really think the poem was about me?” Flora asked, gazing up at the sky, wanting to believe what Layla had just told her, but it was too good to be true. She really wished it was. She couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome artist.

She’d daydreamed about him saving her from monsters more than was probably healthy. It was hard not to drool over the memory of his confident smirk as he’d saved her at Red Fountain. It would feel so good to be held in his arms. At least that was how it had felt in her dreams. She’d had some other dreams too, but she’d never admit to those. Only that her imagination had a lot of faith in Helia being good with his hands.

“Unless he’s madly in love with a Dora, Kora, or Laura.” Layla teased her, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “Of course it was about you, Flora. He’s into you, big time. Trust me.”

It was such a tempting thought.

Flora was struck by a whimsical, bold idea. Encouraged by the prospect of the truth of Layla’s words, she sat up, deciding to act on it before she lost her nerve.

“Maybe I’ll just send him a little something to let him know I’m thinking about him too.” The way she was planning to do it, she would be totally safe if it went south - she could always feign innocence and pretend it wasn’t her.

It was a clear and sunny afternoon. Maybe some sweet and unobtrusive white camellias? Nothing too garish or fragrant, so as not to disturb him…

She hoped he didn’t know flower language. White camellias represented love and adoration and were given to those you really liked. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he knew it.

“I’ll be right back.” She said, giggling at the knowing look Layla shot her.

“There’s a blue ledge next to the window that makes a good hiding spot.”

---

Helia was in the middle of his afternoon meditation when he noticed a lack in the absence of the gentle heat of the sunlight. A shadow…? He hadn’t sensed anyone’s presence.

He opened his eyes and stood. There by the balcony ledge, a small bush of flowers magically grew and blossomed in front of his eyes.

Racing out to the balcony, he watched them bloom and sparkle in the light of the sun. They were white camellias, beautiful with their winding stems and layered petals. They usually only bloomed in the winter.

“Whoa! Nice…”

He looked up in search of the one responsible for such a gift, just in time to see the form of someone flying away. They were already almost out of sight, so to his disappointment he had just missed his chance to find out their identity.

Regardless, he couldn’t help a smile as he looked down at the plant, softly touching the petals of one of the flowers. If he remembered correctly, white camellias were typically given to those well-liked by the sender and could represent feelings of adoration… or love. Well, that was only one interpretation.

Who indeed?

He aced all of his tests later that day, but refused to answer as to the reason for his good mood when asked.

Even when it lasted for the rest of the week.

---

Enough heroism was enough for one day. Helia had half a mind to skip his classes, but it was a bit difficult to do when your uncle was the headmaster.

But nothing was stopping him from escaping to the park in Magix the second he finished school for the day.

Helia didn’t stop until he found the perfect spot - a large flat rock in the middle of a clearing in the trees, far enough away from most of the bustle and noise of the park, but still near enough by that he wouldn’t lose his way.

Time for some much needed decompressing.

Helia climbed up on the rock and made himself comfortable, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees in his usual meditation pose, and began to empty his mind.

Soon, his shoulders relaxed and the stiffness began to seep out of his spine. His mind was blissfully clear but for the chirping of birds and woosh of wind in the leaves. Nature never failed to calm him down.

He was almost an hour into a deep in a meditative trance, so when someone called out his name, it took him a moment to resurface to the forefront of his mind and open his eyes.

“Hmm…?”

Flora stood before him, and startled so harshly when he met her gaze that she dropped all the books she had been holding to her chest. Had she been looking for a spot to read?

She made a sound of distress and bent down, hastily gathering them up. The embarrassed look on her face was adorable.

“Hey Flora.” He couldn’t keep the mirth out of his tone as he leapt down from his perch and knelt on the ground by the mess. “Let me help you.”

He picked up one of the pieces of paper she had dropped - a letter actually, he realized as he held it up.

“Umm ahh - that’s just- uh-!” She seemed to panic, and he took a second look at the letter.

It couldn’t be...

“The christened Flower of Love?” He said out loud as he recognized the flower on the cover of the letter, surprise quickly turning to anticipation.

Flora hastily gathered up her last book and stood. He rose mechanically with her.

“You know it?” She sounded surprised, as if she didn’t expect him to. As if she had been counting on it.

“It means this letter is for the one who has your heart.” He pressed his lips together unhappily. She looked like she wanted a hole to swallow her up rather than have him see this letter. It wasn’t for him then. He felt like a fool for having misread the situation. She had probably just enjoyed his attention. Or was just that friendly to everybody...

“Uh yes.” She admitted. “But it’s uhh…”

She was blushing. Irritation swelled up within him as the image of her romantically presenting this letter to some other man came into his mind, unbidden.

“I have to tell you, whoever’s getting this letter is really a very lucky guy.” He said stiffly, fully scowling now. He had the sudden urge to leave and never show his face again.

“Well actually it’s for my parents.” She finally blurted.

“Oh.” There was an intense feeling of relief, like a pressure being lifted off his chest. But just as soon, doubt creeped back in. She was covering her mouth - was she lying to save him face? But Flora didn’t seem like the kind to lie.

“That’s very sweet.” The smile he forced on his face felt stiff even to him. “Here-”

He handed the letter out to her and she quickly took it back from him. Clutching it awkwardly, she bit her lip and gazed up at him reluctantly as if she wanted something.

But after a moment she just squelched a placative grin and nodded awkwardly. “Well… see you later?”

The disappointment hit him like a sack of bricks. Turning away abruptly, all he could manage was a simple-

“Bye.”

He sounded like a defeated loser even to him.

---

Every time Flora thought about the disastrous lost opportunity with Helia at the park, she got the urge to bang her head against the wall. Well maybe not quite, but she knew Chatta certainly did.

So it was a relief when Bloom invited her along on her trip to Eraklyon to meet Sky’s parents. And that they hit the ground running when they got back, although she wasn’t sure how she felt about going to Cloud Tower. She could really use a break from negative energy.

She didn’t miss the surprised look on Stella’s face at the orb of darkness she summoned. The sun fairy had probably assumed that she too would be unable to summon one.

But it wasn’t hard to let the feelings of embarrassment, disappointment, and frustration with herself rise to the surface.

It sure made for one ugly orb of dark energy. She tried not to let the disgust show on her face though, considering she was surrounded by witches who may not appreciate that.

---

“Man, we finally get fall break and my girl isn’t even in the same dimension. How am I supposed to ask her out on a date now?”

“You’re out of luck Brandon, besides they don’t get their break until next week. They’re only on Earth to conduct research for their project. Going to some creepy house for a party. Bloom told me it was for gathering information about a traditional folk holiday there called Hahl-oh-eeyn.” Sky responded matter of factly.

“They always get to do the fun projects.” He grouched, looking for all to have the wind blown out of his sails.

“Not always.” Timmy interjected. “In fact, I don’t envy them. From what I know of Halloween, going there now is practically the worst timing ever after their harrowing experience at Cloud Tower last week.”

“How come?”

“Apparently, Halloween is all about getting scared by creepy things. Take a look at some of these decoration example images I found on the interweb.”

Helia raised an eyebrow at what he saw as Timmy scrolled through the display. The objects ranged from tacky to something he’d seen a witch wearing, to straight up terrifying. Fake blood, faces twisted in gaunt screams, large weapons and unsettling equipment all set up in a dark place called a “Haunted House” that people went in for thrills. Or to show off to their crush.

What a terrible holiday. This was why he was a pacifist - he could never fathom why people could stand or even enjoy such violence. And Flora, sweet, gentle, easily startled Flora was going to have to go in something like one of those “Haunted Houses?”

Poor thing. Her not-quite rejection a week prior had stung, sure, but his heart still ached at the idea of her crying out in fear.

Images of her trembling, her large green eyes filled with tears… if he was there, he’d hold her close until she stopped shaking and then take her out of such an awful place immediately. He imagined her clutching him closely, looking up at him with that same expression of admiration as the day they first met. Like he was her hero and the only thing that mattered in her eyes.

“Helia? Hello-o, earth to Helia!”

“Huh?” The fantasy scattered from his conscience. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to come with us to get some pizza tonight.” Brandon said. “They’ve got a group deal on Saturdays.”

“Dude, why’re you always spacing out?” Riven crossed his arms, shaking his head like it was personally disappointing to him. “Seriously.”

“I’ll pass, thank you.” Helia responded simply.

“Alright man. More pizza for us.” Brandon loped an arm around Sky and tugged him towards the door. “Lets go, I’m starving.”

“Yeah dude, me too. Codatorta really went all out on us in combat practice earlier.”

Riven and Timmy followed them out the door, and when they were gone Helia was left alone with his thoughts. Where was he…

Ah yes, Flora’s hero.

---

Sometimes, being part of a prestigious family line of powerful sages came in handy. Among other things, one had good eyesight, incredible natural strength, and a natural propensity for the mystic arts.

But sometimes, it just plain sucked.

Like now, when the rest of Helia’s specialist classmates were being sent to spend an entire week alone with the six fairies to ‘guard’ them on a beautiful vacation realm full of exotic plants and animals he would’ve loved to have the chance to capture in paper and ink. Meanwhile he was stuck attending one of the “important family meetings” one could expect of a rather powerful and well off family with much business to do about Magix and several other realms worth of politics.

It didn’t help that he had to listen to them talk about it while he assisted with prepping the hovercraft ship for use. He was just about turning green with envy.

“Dude, I can’t wait to see Stella’s new bathing suit. She’s been teasing me with little details over text all morning. Expensive, red, custom-contoured to fit her body…”

“Dude, you’re drooling.”

“As if you’re not looking forward to seeing Bloom in a bikini.”

“Touche. I bet she’s got freckles just as cute as the ones on her face in other places.” The blond easily hefted a box full of tents into the back of the ship with a cheeky look on his face. “I’m also looking forward to her having to embrace her natural height. Without the help of 3-inch heels since she can’t possibly wear those in the sand or mud. Heh-heh, she gets so angry when I tease her about it, it’s adorable.”

Riven made a choking sound like he was gagging on the mushiness of Sky’s tone.

“We’re not allowed to socialize. Seems to me like you’re forgetting that.”

“Don’t be such a drag, Riven. Besides, I’ll bet you’ll be the first one to drop the whole routine.”

“No way dude.” Riven looked offended at the very insinuation that he would fail at any mission. “I’m not the one getting all horny over some girls in bathing suits.”

“Woah, hey, it’s not like that.” Brandon wagged his finger at Riven as if teaching a young boy. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to embrace the woman you love.”

They then moved on to the topic of who was sharing tents with who, and taking bets on who the first fairy to scream over a bug or something in her sleeping bag would be.

Helia wasn’t really listening anymore. His brain was stuck on the image of Flora, lounging next to him on a beach towel, sipping on a strawberry shake as he applied sunscreen on her bare back, strands of a frilly pink two-piece laying untied at the sides so as not to hinder his application job.

He forcefully cut the image off when it started to wander into “sounds she would make from his hands massaging her back” territory. That was dangerous. And besides… there was the guy Flora was going to give that love letter.

That was a sobering thought. Seems like the engines were in perfect condition and nothing was wrong with any of the interior systems.

Time to go ask if he could get out of the family meeting. Or at least leave early.

#winx club #flora #helia #flora x helia #fanfic #alright I know I said I had a kotor 2 one on the way but that ones not done yet #and besides... flora is best girl #amen

[pocket-luv101]

Across Time || Chapter 20

Fandom: Servamp Ships: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht

Summary: Mahiru falls into a well and is taken to a new, fantasy world. He comes across a half-blooded cat demon trapped in a tree. After he frees Kuro, he helps him collect the shards of the sacred jewel. (KuroMahi, InuYasha AU)

Ch.1 || Ch.2 || Ch.3 || Ch.4 || Ch.5 || Ch.6 || Ch.7 || Ch.8 || Ch.9 || Ch.10 || Ch.11 || Ch.12 || Ch.13 || Ch.14 || Ch.15 || Ch.16 || Ch.17 || Ch.18 || Ch.19 || (Ch.20) ||

“Gear said that one of our brothers made tainted jewel shards. It’s time to arrange a reunion with them. I haven’t seen them in years so I don’t know where they are now.” Hyde said. They left Kuro’s childhood home but they didn’t know where they should go next. “I don’t want to believe that one of our siblings is creating these shards but Gear doesn’t have a reason to lie.”

“Our family is made of different demons but I can’t think of one that’s able to corrupt a shard.” Kuro rolled the tiny shard between his finger. He thought of how the jewel forced him to become a demon. Luckily, Mahiru was able to purify the shard with his powers. He turned to him and he couldn’t help but look at his lips as he thought of the kiss.

Kuro shook his head and reminded himself that he needed to focus on the issue. He handed the shard to Mahiru and said, “You should hold onto the shard. It can’t turn me into a demon again but I’ll feel better if you were the one holding it. You’re the most knowledgeable about spiritual energy and the sacred jewel. The shard won’t be tainted again with you.”

“I heard of people drawing power from the jewel. On the other hand, a person influencing the souls within it is rare. Since the shards are smaller, it’s easier to corrupt it now.” Licht thought of the stories his village would tell him about the jewel and its creation. “A human may taint the shard. My mother told me of two brothers who did so. They died long ago though.”

While Licht didn’t tell him directly, Hyde could hear that he wanted to reassure him that his brother wasn’t the one selling tainted jewel shards. He was surprised that he would do so. He assumed that Licht wouldn’t question Gear and insist they go after his family. Hyde looked down at him but Licht quickly pulled his eyes away. “You have six other siblings. It’ll be a waste of time to search for each one and ask them about the shard if they aren’t involved.”

“Touma has been giving shards to people in exchange for their help. Selling these shards may be an extension of that plan. It could also be someone copying him as well.” Mahiru added. He reached out and took Kuro’s hand. He thought of Tsubaki and Mahiru didn’t want anyone else in the family to hurt Kuro. With a light squeeze, he said: “We should search for others who have these black shards.”

“You can sense the jewel shards, Mahiru. Does the tainted shard feel different from the others? It would help.” Kuro didn’t want to believe that one of his siblings was selling the dark shards. While he hadn’t spoken with them in years, he thought of them each day he was sealed to the tree. Yet, he knew it wasn’t in Gear’s nature to lie. Tsubaki also worked with Touma to take the tessaiga in the past.

He turned back to Mahiru when he let out a long sigh. “From a distance, they have the same energy. I can only tell them apart when I’m closer but that won’t help lead us to the person selling the shards or anyone holding one. I’m sorry.”

“We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.” Kuro adjusted their hands so their fingers were threaded together. He had seen how strong Mahiru was throughout their journey. He knew that he felt responsible for the shard being shattered. Tenderly, he stroked his thumb over his knuckles to comfort him. “We’re going to reform the jewel together.”

“I hope you’re including us in your ‘together’, Nii-san.” They pulled apart at the sound of Hyde’s voice. Kuro and Mahiru had a blush and the sight caused him to chuckle. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his brother so flustered. He was happy that Kuro found a partner but they needed to keep their focus on the jewel shards.

Kuro could read his brother’s thoughts and he understood the importance of reforming the jewel. A part of him was worried about the journey ahead of them. He didn’t want to fight another of his siblings since it would cause the rift in their family to become larger. If one of his siblings tried to kill Mahiru, he didn’t know what he would do. He cared for both equally.

“We can ask travellers and other merchants if they heard of a man selling tainted jewels or if a similar person approached them. Someone must know something.” Mahiru suggested. He was able to sense the shards but they were scattered around the country. It was difficult for him to focus on a single one. He would lead them to the jewel’s general location and then search for it.

“The person selling shards must be holding many of them.” Hyde reasoned. “Where is the largest cluster of shards you can sense? We can also talk to people on our way to the shard.”

“What a beautiful garden.” Mahiru said breathlessly as he looked over the sea of violet flowers. A humble inn sat at the center of the garden. His eyes were drawn to a flower that was a different colour from the rest. A light blue flower grew at the edge of the garden. The light colour reminded him of Kuro’s beautiful hair. He was tempted to pick the flower but he didn’t know if he should.

“The villagers said that they heard of a merchant who sells jewels. Hopefully, they’re the tainted shards. Do you sense a shard in the inn?” Hyde asked him and Mahiru nodded. “We don’t know if he’s still staying in the inn but someone must’ve seen the merchant. Knowing the man’s appearance will help us find him rather than blindly following rumours.”

“Let’s go then.” Licht said and stepped forward.

Mahiru started to follow him but then he noticed that Kuro was staring at the camellias. He reached down and picked the blue flower. Kuro had noticed how Mahiru looked at the flower and thought he wanted it. He tucked the camellia behind his ear and then lightly brushed his bangs from his face. “I don’t think the owners will mind if we pick one flower. If they get mad, you can blame me.”

He touched the flower in his hair and a smile spread across his face. While the gift was small, it showed that Kuro’s kindness. He wasn’t the type for words but his loving gesture told him how he felt. Others wouldn’t notice how he stared at the single flower yet Kuro had. Mahiru picked a white flower and handed it to him. “We’ll get in trouble together. Planting so many flowers must’ve taken a long time.”

“The garden is beautiful but it’s a little overwhelming for me.” He groaned and scratched his nose. Since he was a demon, his senses were heightened. The thick scent of the flowers turned his senses into a haze. Kuro took the flower from Mahiru and tucked it into his obi. “We should go inside. The smell won’t affect me as much.”

“Okay.” Mahiru nodded and took his hand. They walked into the garden but then his steps stuttered for a moment. His eyes widened slightly and he looked around him. Kuro didn’t know what caught his attention since he couldn’t sense anything around them. His brows furrowed as he said, “I can’t feel the jewel shard anymore. It didn’t move though. It’s simply gone.”

“Maybe you’re tired from walking so much and it’s affecting your powers.” He suggested. While he nodded, he could see that there was still a hint of concern in his brown eyes. Kuro rubbed his hand over his arm and then placed his hand on his back to led him into the inn. His strong hand was comforting but Mahiru had to question why he couldn’t sense the jewel anymore.

They entered the inn and saw Hyde speaking with a man. “I am a travelling monk. I was drawn to your inn because I can sense a looming evil in your walls. Have any of your guest noticed a demon presence?” Hyde spoke loudly enough to draw the attention of the patrons. “I would suggest you purify your inn to chase out the demon. Since I’m a kind monk, I will perform an exorcism without charging you.”

“I’m not giving you a free room.” The man retorted bluntly. “One of my regular customers is a monk and he exorcise my inn regularly. There is also a barrier around the inn so I will know if a demon enters.”

Behind them, Licht chuckled. He had seen Hyde trick many people into giving them free lodging. Licht would often have to kick the demon and force him to pay for the room properly. He stepped forward and took out his coin purse. “How much does a room cost? We’ll take two if they’re available.”

“Are you planning to room with me? I’m sure my brother would want to share a room with his mate.” Hyde had a charming smile and Licht quickly looked away from him. The sight caused his heart to flutter even though he knew the flirt was merely teasing him. He had fought many demons yet Hyde was the only one who could affect him.

“You will be staying in a room with your brother.” Licht said and he turned back to the innkeeper. As he was discussing the room, Hyde glanced around the room. The strong scent of flowers filled the room and irritated his senses. The owner had decorated the room with flowers that they saw outside. He thought they were strange but he couldn’t focus on them enough to understand why.

“Here are your room numbers. My name is Misono and I own the inn so please come to me if you need anything.” He said as he passed the number slip to Licht. “My inn is famous for its flowers because they sooth the soul. They will give you a peaceful sleep.”

“You must have a lot a of customer. Do merchants visit often? I would like to purchase a few things but we haven’t encountered many merchants on journey.” Mahiru asked Misono. He didn’t want to scare the people staying in the inn by telling them about the tainted shard. There were a few people in the lobby but Mahiru couldn’t sense if one was holding a shard.

“We had a merchant stay here yesterday but he left this morning. If there’s something you want in particular, you might find it in the village.” Misono suggested.

“Thank you. We might pay the market a visit.” Mahiru tried to hide his disappointment. He didn’t know how to ask Misono more about the merchant without being suspicious.

He walked to where Kuro was speaking with his brother and told them what Misono told him. They walked down the hall and Mahiru let out a sigh once he thought others couldn’t overhear them. “It seems like we missed the merchant by a day. Should we leave and try to find him? He might not have gotten far in such a short time.”

“I have to question if the innkeeper has been telling us the truth.” Hyde whispered and looked back to the lobby. His sharp eyes watched Misono interact with his guests. “He told us that there was a barrier around his inn that would tell him is a demon enters. Nii-san and I were able to enter though. Something feels wrong here.”

“You’re quick to distrust people. What are you looking for, Shit Rat?” Licht asked Hyde who was shifting through the flowers. The sun was setting so it was unlikely they would find anything before it became dark. He knelt next to him and scanned the garden. “If you’re searching for the barrier Misono mentioned, you’re already looking at it.”

“I’m a trained monk and I can’t find a spell tag or talisman that could make a barrier.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at the flowers. Licht picked one and shoved it into Hyde’s face. The petals tickled his nose and caused him to sneeze. He turned away from him and blindly pushed his hands away. “What was that for, Angel Cakes?”

“This garden acts as a deterrent to demons, whether Misono intended for it to be or not.” Licht twirled the flower between his fingers and watched the blur of colours the petal created. “My village would plant potent flowers near our home. We would use different flowers though.”

“My brother is resting in the inn due to the smell these flowers have so you might be right. I’m lucky my nose isn’t as strong as his but it’s still hard to concentrate with the smell.” Hyde complained. His instinct told him that the inn was hiding something but he didn’t know what it was. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard Licht curse next to him.

Licht dropped the flower and stared at his finger. He had been pricked by a thorn and blood began to bead on the wound. “I didn’t think violets had thorns.”

“They don’t. Let me see your hand.” Hyde cupped his hands around Licht’s. He hadn’t noticed how long and slender his fingers were before he held his hand. He was reminded of Licht’s strength when he stared at the faded scars on his skin. Closing his eyes, he focused on the thorn prick. “I don’t think the thorn had poison or something similar.”

Hyde tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and wrapped the fabric around his finger. His touch was gentler than Licht expected it would be. Once he finished, he pulled his hand back. He turned away from him so he wouldn’t see him blush. “You didn’t need to wrap a tiny thorn prick.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’.” Hyde chuckled. He stood and held his hand out to help him stand. As Licht reach out to place his hand in his, a drop of blood soaked through the fabric and landed on a flower. The petal became red and the colour spread to the other violets.

He jumped to his feet and asked, “Do you sense a demon who could be causing this?”

“I can’t smell a thing with these flowers. I think that’s the point.” Hyde muttered and drew his sword. He watched the flowers for a demon but he couldn’t sense anyone’s presence.

“Do you feel better?” Mahiru asked Kuro who laid on his lap. He tenderly stroked his fingers over his temple and let his spiritual energy flow into him. The scent of the flowers gave him a headache and he had trouble sleeping. He went to Mahiru’s room with the hope that he could help him. Kuro only need his warm fingers threading through his hair to sooth him.

“A little. I never thought there would be a day where I can’t fall asleep. It was the one thing I’m great at.” He groaned and Mahiru chuckled. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Kuro reached up and placed his hand on Mahiru’s cheek to pull him back down to tickle their noses together. Mahiru giggled and sat up.

“There’s nothing we can do about the flowers but a cup of warm tea might help you fall asleep. I’ll ask Misono if I may use the kitchen and make a cup for you.” Mahiru said and patted his shoulder. He sat up so he could stand. “Hyde wants to investigate the inn but I can’t sense a demon presence. I’ll ask them if they found anything later.”

“My brother is lucky that his nose isn’t as strong as mine and he can still walk around.” Kuro sighed at his own weakness. He was also worried about the flowers’ effect on Hyde though. As Mahiru walked out of the room, he stumbled slightly and caught himself on the door. He jumped to his feet and went to his side. “Are you okay, Mahiru?”

“I’m fine, Kuro.” He reassured him but his words were overtaken by a yawn. Mahiru tried to rub the sleep from his eyes and said, “I’m just a little tired. I don’t know why. The sun set but it isn’t that late yet. Maybe the journey is taking more of a toll on me than I thought. I should feel better in the morning once I get proper sleep.”

“You don’t have to make tea. Go to sleep and I’ll talk to my brother for you.” He suggested and lightly nudged him towards his own room. The fact that Mahiru was a human was always on his mind and he didn’t want him to push himself. He touched the flower in his brown hair and said, “Misono claims the flower can give people a peaceful sleep.”

“I would like a cup of tea myself so I don’t mind making a pot for us. It shouldn’t take me long so you can wait in your room.” Mahiru told him and continued down the hall.

The lobby was empty when Mahiru entered the room. He wondered where Misono was so he could ask him for directions to the kitchen. The moonlight filtered through the window and reflected off a mirror. The light caught Mahiru’s attention and he walked to the decorative mirror standing on the table. A small portrait of two people rested next to the mirror.

He recognized Misono in the photo but he hadn’t seen the other man in the inn. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Misono appear in the mirror’s reflection. He turned over his shoulder and said, “This is a beautiful mirror you have.”

“It’s a family heirloom. My brother gave it to me and said it will protect me while he’s travelling.” Misono told him and picked up the mirror. Despite the darkness, Mahiru could see that there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.  

Mahiru reasoned that the man in the photo was his brother and he likely missed him. He understood how Misono felt since he missed his friends and family from the future. He thought of how Kuro and the new friends he made helped him. With that thought, he said: “I came down to ask you if I could borrow your kitchen and make tea. Would you like to join us, Misono? Friends can help you through anything.”

“Friends?” Misono repeated and turned the mirror in his hands. A butterfly landed on the edge of the mirror. “I see many people since I own an inn. Most people don’t stay for long for us to become friends. It’s better if I don’t become close with the guests here. They all die.”

His last statement made Mahiru stiffen. For a moment, he thought he misheard Misono but a dangerous glint appeared in his violet eyes. He turned the mirror so it reflected Mahiru’s image. A powerful force crashed over him and he thought he felt the air being pulled from his lungs. He didn’t understand what was happening as his vision became hazy.

Instinctively, Mahiru raised his hands and summoned a barrier. His spiritual energy formed a wall but it quickly disappeared. The light was drawn into Misono’s mirror and Mahiru’s heart sank. He didn’t know what powers the mirror had but he could sense his spiritual energy being taken. He left his arrows in his room so he couldn’t defend himself.

“I was told that you haven’t mastered your powers yet. I should tell Touma that he has underestimated you. I haven’t though.” Misono stood over him and his mirror began to glow. The image changed to Hyde and Licht walking down the hall. “I can see everything in my inn through this mirror and I overheard you discussing the merchant selling black shards. I won’t let you kill him.”

“Are you working with him?” Questions raced through his mind but he doubted Misono would answer any of them. He needed to warn his friends about Misono. Mahiru grabbed the table next to him by the leg and swung it towards Misono with all his strength. He managed to knock the mirror from his hands. Once the mirror was turned away from him, Mahiru felt his strength return.

He ran down the hall and called Kuro’s name. “Misono has a demon mirror. I need my arrows.”

In the room, Kuro jumped to his feet. He could fear the panic and fear in his voice. He grabbed his quiver and rushed out of the room. The relief Mahiru felt when he saw Kuro only lasted for a moment though. The ground beneath his feet disappeared and he started to fall. He summoned a barrier beneath his feet to keep himself from dropping through the floor.

Mahiru looked down and found a dark mirror beneath him. His barrier began to weaken due to the mirror’s power and he searched for a way jump to safety. The mirror was large so he couldn’t jump to safety. Kuro stood on the edge of the mirror and stretched out his hand to catch Mahiru. He moved to the edge of the barrier and reached out to Kuro. Their fingers only managed to brush together before someone attacked him.

Kuro was shocked when he faced his brother. “Snow Lily?”

“I’m sorry, Kuro, I don’t want to fight you. But I owe Misono my life. Touma only wants the Shirota man dead so we don’t need to fight. Please, just let him go.”

Kuro hadn’t seen his brother in years so he didn’t know the debt he owed Misono. He couldn’t let Mahiru be taken though. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Mahiru’s barrier finally fade away. His heart sank and his body moved before he could fully process the situation. He pushed Lily aside and jumped after Mahiru as he fell into the mirror.

#servamp #kuromahi #lawlicht #sloth pair #greed pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #servamp hyde #licht jekylland todoroki #fanfiction

[sharinluna]

Golden Eyes like the Sun - Chapter 14

1. Kiro = Sun

In the Darkest Hour chapters, the boys leave Yōurán one by one. First Kiro retires from his idol job. Gavin’s evol goes berserk. Lucien turns Ares on her. Victor is who knows where.

In these lonely, dark times, just being in Kiro’s presence makes Yōurán feel peaceful, like she’s standing under warm rays of sunlight.

Words like bright, warm and cheerful are used when the story is describing Kiro. Likewise, dark and cold imagery is used to describe the bad guys, or the absence of Kiro.

When I finally ran out from the pitch black underground parking lot, the dusky gloom outside seemed like another world.

“Do you remember the underground secret room from the Hacker’s Summit and the things we saw?”

I felt a twinge of fear seeing the figures in black in the video searching through the building.

Kiro’s gentle, soothing tones sounded in my ear, and I was completely reassured.

Extremely gently, he smoothed out my disheveled hair.

Looking into his clear, pure eyes, my panic dispersed like a cloud.

“It’s my time to shine!”

I had to laugh at his joking, seeming to break the ice in my heart. I could finally relax.

His smile was like the dawn breaking through the clouds. It couldn’t be held back by any darkness or gloom and brought me warmth every time.

I only clung to the warmth and courage flowing between our enjoined hands.

His smile was warm and dazzling.

I could quote many more examples. Kiro is Yōurán’s personal sun. He chases her darkness away and cheers her up. He brings hope and he is a light in a dark cave that you must follow to get out.

2. The sun's about to go out.

“Oh, them? They’ll be gone real soon.”

His mouth was drawn, and around his eyes was a little dark. All the brilliance of superstar Kiro seemed swept under the rug.

Kiro is like the sun, he chases the darkness away. But it seems like the darkness is starting to get to him. This foreshadows that he will also be gone with ‘them’. The darkness.

The metro entered a dark tunnel, and the daylight disappeared.

Dark tunnel = TV tower

daylight = Kiro

“Wait till I’ve taken care of some things, and I will come for you. I’ll tell you everything that’s happened.”

It’s a common cliché in these genres. If a character says things like “I won’t ever leave you” or “I promise I’ll come back for you”, the opposite happens.

3. How could you be so selfless, Kiro?

Sometimes I think that Kiro is more secretive than Lucien. He doesn’t give off any villain vibes, but he is a very elusive character. His bright, cheerful disposition is not an act, but he is hiding a depth of sorrow underneath.

The other LIs have all expressed insecurity regarding their relationship with Yōurán. Lucien’s obsessive butterfly call. Victor’s panicked over-protectiveness in chapter 11. Even Gavin is projecting his issues regarding his abusive father and late mother.

Kiro is the least possessive/obsessive one out of four of them. He does get jealous, but in a cute way, not in a controlling way. The other boys have all expressed their desire to be in an exclusive relationship with Yōurán, and Kiro is the one who seldom has said such things, at least in the early dates. As long as Yōurán is happy, he is happy too. He just wants to make her world bright without expecting anything in return.

It makes me sad that his love is so selfless. It’s as if he knows that he won’t be able to be with Yōurán in the end. Even in the pre-release trailer he says “There won’t be Kiro in your world anymore.” 

As long as Yōurán is in the light, he is willing to kill his own light and be trapped forever in the darkness. All the boys would go to hell and back for Yōurán, but Kiro is willing to stay in hell permanently for her. That’s the main difference. The other boys would do all they can to go back to Yōurán, but Kiro... he would just be content that at least Yōurán’s safe and happy in the sun, without him.

That’s why his Kiss date came out the latest. (By the way, check out my translation if you haven’t) 

In order for him to fully commit himself to her, Yōurán needs to reassure him that she accepts all sides of him, even the dark/less perfect sides. That she would love him no matter what. Then Kiro would finally accept that it’s okay to be selfish, to want to have Yōurán as his own. That it’s okay to be sinful.

4. Not cool, STF

Getting a bit off-topic here, but I think I should point this out.

“Your visions certainly do make the future change, but whether that change is for good or bad, the only one who can make that change is you.”

After this phone call from Leto, Yōurán makes a resolve to go to the TV tower to change the future. Storywise, it makes sense that Yōurán takes part in solving the problem. We can’t have the protagonist sit home and wait for the others to do it.

But… the Special Task Force is basically asking a plain citizen, a non-combatant, to go to the source of danger. They obviously know that Black Swan is behind all this, an organization that is trying to capture Yōurán. One of the duties of the Special Task Force is to protect civilians like Yōurán. Storming to the TV tower was supposed to be their job. They should have asked Yōurán to stay behind. If they really needed civilian help they should have taken measures to ensure that she is unharmed.

And Leto prompted her to face them on her own without offering any trained back up or protection. As a result, Yōurán nearly fell to her death. She was saved in the end but still, if it had been a moment too late...The story passed over this but in reality this is a problem. A military-like organization using civilians without regards to their safety. 

This actually foreshadows what the STF will be like in future chapters(They suck as much as BS).

5.  Kiro’s evol = absolute charm?

“My evol is passively attracting others.”

Kiro’s evol in Chinese is 吸人力. 吸 means draw sth in, absorb, attract. 人 means people. 力 means power. So 吸人力 is ability to draw people in. If his passive superpower is attracting everyone to like him. What would happen if he uses his powers actively and “literally” draws people in?

6. The Sun’s Death

In the early chapters, Kiro in a phone call says this line that comes from Batman.

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

I think this foreshadows what happens in chapter 14.

He let go of his hand from mine, and the sudden loss of warmth sent me into a tailspin.

“I command you… now walk onto the rooftop, lock the door, and don’t let anyone in… including me.”

Kiro’s keyword in the Darkest Hour PV was ‘sacrifice.’

A black figure suspended in the air behind Kiro, just like scythe-toting Death himself.

I seemed to see a golden-winged bird fly by, like a ray of light crossing the sky, leaving a temporary light trail in my vision.

The story brought up Grim reaper for a reason. Also, phoenix symbolizes revival from death. He literally or figuratively died as Kiro and then resurrected as…what? Helios

“Wait for me.“

You wouldn’t believe how many chapters I had to wait.

#mlqc #mlqc analysis #mlqc kiro #mlqc chapter 14

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I thought about Adventure Time: Distant Lands-”BMO”

Salutations random people of the internet who probably won't read this. I am an Ordinary Shmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons. And today, I'm going to do one-fourth of what I do best by reviewing "BMO": The first hour-long special of Adventure Time: Distant Lands. Seeing how it's been a week since the special premiered, and that most fans saw it by now, I thought I'd share my thoughts on BMO. Keep in mind, if you haven't seen the special yet, you're final warning against spoilers stops here. Because I'll be spoiling the heck out of this special, by listings everything I like, and don't like. Things like characters, plot elements, and little touches that I thought were worth mentioning. Without further ado, let's start this review off by listing-

WHAT I LIKED

The Animation Quality: You know how Steven Universe: The Movie had animation quality that was ten percent better than the original series? That's basically what the animation in “BMO” is like. It's not the smoothest I've ever seen, and probably not the best Adventure Time has ever looked, but it's still pretty good. There's definitely more attention to detail, shading, and lighting to help make “BMO” look more cinematic than the series. There is one issue I have with the animation, though. But I'll get into that with the dislikes. For now, it's safe to say that the animation is still pretty darn good.

BMO (The Character, not the special): What can I say about this little rascal that hasn't been said already? BMO is still his adorable little self, and more so. There are times when his naivety can be kind of annoying, at least to me, but I'm sure BMO fans will love how he's presented in the special. Especially given the fact that this is the most active BMO has been in the entire series. Throughout most of Adventure Time, BMO has primarily been a source for comedy as well as a tool for characters to use. Even in episodes when BMO does save the day, it's either by accident or by him not understanding the situation. In "BMO," the little robot purposefully solves many problems, and fully understands the situation. The special still manages to keep his naivety by having BMO just not completely understanding how serious the problem is. Weirdly the writers found a perfect way to make BMO a more active role while not giving him a different personality. And personally speaking, the writers executed that idea well.

Y-5: This special may be about BMO, but Y-5 is the real star here. Y-5's personality, design, and overall arc as a character was so much fun and downright adorable to see. It was so surprising because I did not expect to like any new character introduced in Distant Lands. I just assumed that any newcomer would divert attention from the main character that the special would focus on. And while Y-5 does do that, I'm ok with it for three reasons. First, BMO is not a good character to work on his own. He actually needs characters that fully know what's going on for the plot to progress. Second, while Y-5 can hijack the story, sometimes, there are still segments that make it clear that "BMO" is about BMO. Third, Y-5 is already an incredible character, so I'm not going to waste time complaining about her inclusion. She plays the perfect straight man to BMO's antics, and it was so endearing to see her grow as a more confident character. So much so, that I actually consider Y-5 as one of my personal favorite characters. Not just in the special, but in the series overall. Also, I’m sure that there’s some symbolism behind her wanting to be called Y-5, but I’m not touching it. Mostly because I have no idea what I’m talking about in that regard.

The Comedy: There's not much to say here. The jokes are all worth a good chuckle but were never funnier than anything in the series as a whole. Except for that hard-cut to the elf looking angry as he drifts off into space. That was pretty hilarious.

The Drift: I love everything about the Drift. From its design to the background characters, and even the backgrounds themselves. Everything about the Drift just screams hard work and dedication from the cast and crew. It's almost as if everyone involved knew this would be the last time they would work on Adventure Time, so they just poured their hearts and souls into it. And given the fact that they worked so hard on the first special, makes me even more excited for the other three.

Martin returns...sort of: Let's be clear: It is understood by everyone that Mr. M is Martin Mertens. He has the same voice actor, the same mannerisms, and even the same body type. However, what I like isn't the fact that Martin returns. What I love is the fact that "BMO" never reveals that it's Martin. I'm sure some fans might be upset about not getting an official reveal, but I personally don't think it matters. Mostly because it doesn't matter to BMO. BMO doesn't know who Martin is, and has very little connection to the scumbag. So making a big reveal that Mr. M is Martin would just be unnecessary. Overall, I'm ok with the fact that the writers had Martin return to be nothing more than a glorified easter egg. Because honestly, it's what he deserved.

Hugo’s backstory: Again, there's nothing much to say here. It's yet another twist reveal about how a character who seems nice turns out to be quite the twat. There are two things worth mention, though. One, Hugo's personality stays the same. Look back at all Disney twist villains who become vastly different characters before and after the big twist. Compared to Hugo, he seems like a twist villain done right. Once you figured out that Mr. M is Martin, it should be pretty clear that Hugo's not a saint to be partnered up with the guy. Plus, when it's revealed Hugo really is, he still keeps up this charming persona that he uses around people...up until he ditches them like a twit. Another thing worth mentioning is the animation used for the flashback. Dedicated fans might remember that it was the same style used for "Water Park Prank," which might be the worst episode of the series. So it's nice to see the art style used for something good rather than something...not as good.

The solution to “save” the Drift: Most people use the special as an allegory for climate change. Which is why I put "save" in air-quotes because the citizens didn't really save anything. Similar to how we all play our part to save our planet. What the citizens do, though, is come up with solutions that might work as long as they have hope. And I. Freaking. LOVE that! The lesson that "BMO" is trying to teach is incredibly important, both to children and especially to adults. It's so easy to assume that the best solution is to abandon once it gets too hard and take the easy way out. Same as how some people believe it's better to just abandon this planet we call home, rather than put in the work to save it. And to those people: Let me ask you a question. Do you really think that you'll shoot off into space with the people planning to colonize another planet? Or do you think that those people are going to be like Hugo, who will only take along close friends and the rich? Personally, I think it's more likely going to be the latter. Which is why I adore the lesson being taught in "BMO." It might be hard to save the planet at this point, but it's still worth doing. And I can hope everyone else will come to agree with that conclusion.

WHAT I DISLIKED

Olive: I feel bad for saying I don't like Olive because the truth is that I'm more indifferent to them. To me, Olive feels less like a character and more like a plot device. This is because Olive has little to no personality, and all they do nothing but be something that furthers the plot. Although, I do like how Olive can stretch, as well as how they are overprotective over BMO. Other than that, there's not much to work off of.

Inconsistency with Character Designs: This was the problem I had with the animation. At times, characters are pretty inconsistent with how they're drawn. Some scenes, Y-5's eyes are large and cute, and other times they're normal-sized. There also times when BMO's height and width can be pretty inconsistent with what scene he's in. Now to be fair, this is nothing new to Adventure Time. It's a problem that the show has had for quite some time, and fans have come to accept it. However, just because you accept a problem doesn't make it any less of a problem. If anything, it makes it worse because the showrunners still refuse to fix it.

KS-2: Is it weird that the best character in "BMO" is the daughter of the worst character? Because to me, I don't understand how someone as amazing as Y-5 came from someone so rotten as KS-2. To be fair, I get what the writers were going for. They wanted to make a mother who was just another adult that "just doesn't understand." I can see that, but the problem is that the writers went too far with the idea. The way that KS-2 just constantly berates Y-5, as well as refusing to listen, comes off as too cruel. And the fact that the father pointed out how KS-2 never said the words "Y-5 was right," does nothing more than add fuel to the fire. But what's tricky is for all I know, this could have been the intention. And if it's true that the writers wanted to make KS-2 so unlikeable, then they more than succeeded. Although, I will give the crew credit for subverting gender norms by making KS-2 buff and the dad scrawny. I just wish that good intention was put into a good character.

The first chase scene in the Jungle Pod: This is mostly a nitpick, but it's still something that bothers me. Because having BMO getting chased away from his radio, to then have him end back where he originally was, felt like padding to me. Because why else would you have BMO go through all of that danger, only to have him end up at square one. Maybe the writers included the scene to build tension, but even if that's true, there could have been a better way to do it. Like while BMO's being chased, he somehow gets closer to his goal, rather than end up in a loop. And if the scene really was just for padding, then pad that time with literally anything else. Like maybe use the time to show KS-2's gentle side, or doing more to tease Hugo's true self. I know it would only be a few minutes, but actually make those minutes count for something. 

It’s a Prequel?: After my initial viewing, my reaction to the ending was, "Oh, BMO found Finn and Jake's descendants." Then when actual smart people pointed out that "BMO" was a prequel, my reaction became "Oh, that makes way more sense." But then I started thinking about the fact that the special was a prequel, and the more I thought about it, the more holes I found. Or, at least, two holes that I found. First off, why does BMO have a heroic nature in this special? At first, I thought that maybe the years living with Finn and Jake taught BMO how to be a hero, but BMO hasn't met Finn yet. So I guess BMO felt like a heroic personality the entire time? Even though he never acted like this before in the series, unless he thought he was playing a game? Another thing I noticed is Martin's line about kids calling out their deadbeat parents. Why would he say that? Martin hasn't met Finn yet, either. Therefore Martin doesn't have the experience of being called a deadbeat parent. So does this mean that Martin has other children in the universe who calls him out on his crap? Or is it most likely that the writers wanted to give another clue that Mr. M was Martin, but briefly forgot the series timeline? I think it's most likely the latter, even though the former sounds way more interesting. And before people want to kill me because they actually love the story being a prequel, I want to point out, this is another nitpick. The fact that "BMO" is a prequel doesn't bother me too much, but I still can't help but feel confused when thinking about it.

As a whole, I give “BMO” an A-. BMO is as adorable as ever, Y-5 is an astounding character, I love the moral that the special is trying to teach, and the entire thing just screams effort. Is it perfect? No. Does it have problems? Yes, but not anything that makes me think the special was unwatchable. I enjoyed it, and something tells me that if you're an Adventure Time fan, you enjoy it too. "BMO" was a great introduction to Distant Lands, and here's hoping the other specials will be even better.

(And here’s also hoping that “Obsidian” will deliver that sweet, sweet Bubbline goodness that fans have been demanding for years.)

#adventure time distant lands #bmo #y-5 #adventure time distant lands spoilers #what i thought about

[weirdostoner]

For the Love of a Monster Ch.2

Apparently I no longer know how to post on Tumblr without fucking it up. Great.

When Bill wakes the next morning, the sun is beginning to bake his room. The sweat that clings to his skin makes him shiver and yearn for a shower. He stretches and slides out of bed, grabbing clothes on the way to his bathroom. While Bill is in the shower, he attempts to shake the feeling he’s forgotten something important. What could be more important than a fucking killer clown?

Once Bill has showered and clothed himself, he heads down stairs. He’d noticed how quiet the house was, but the money and note left on the counter is what lets him know. His parents both left early and neither would be back until later in the evening. I guess it’s easier to avoid your kid when you don’t actually have to talk to them.

Before Bill gets too caught up in his thoughts, the phone rings, and he’s thankful for the distraction.

“H-hello?” he answers after the second ring.

“Fucking finally. I’ve tried calling you like a gazillion times!” Richie’s voice greets him.

“D-don’t be s-so dr-dramatic, R-r-richie.”

“Whatever,” Bill can clearly picture Richie rolling his eyes, “Are you ready fucknut?”

Bill’s sense of urgency returns, and he feels too exposed in the empty house. He’d wanted to eat something before leaving, but his hunger is gone.

“Y-yeah, leaving n-now,” he replies, jamming his feet in his shoes. “B-be there i-in f-fifteen.”  

He hangs up without waiting for a response, locking up on his way out. With his parents gone, he has no one to tell where he’ll be. They likely wouldn’t care either way.

OOOOO

 Pennywise watches, hidden in the shadows, as Billy leaves the house. It kept an eye on him, all through the night. Watched as It’s Billy tossed and turned in his sleep, dreaming dreams It had left with him. It had been there to hear him on the phone, and knew when Billy began to sense It. How It longed to show Itself, finally have It’s moment with the human. While It grew impatient, It knew the wait was over soon. It would sleep again, but before that, It would have Billy.

OOOOO

When Bill stops his bike at the hideout, six are already there. The sound of arguing is already clear from where he’s standing. He calls down into the entrance, not wanting to startle his friends, and the arguing stops.  

Probably Richie and Eddie.

“I-I’m c-coming down, g-guys,” he gives the others time to move out the way, and climbs down.  

“Hey Bill,” Mike greets him when he reaches the bottom. His large hand claps Bill on the back once and then is gone.

“H-hey,” he greets back, smiling lightly at his friend. He looks around at the others and sees they’ve all found things to do while waiting on him. One look at Richie and Eddie near the hammock let’s him know he’s right about the arguing.  

“I know,” Mike says, drawing back Bill’s attention, “It’s been years but everything still looks the same.” While his thoughts weren’t quite where his friend assumed, Bill agrees.

“You know, didn’t comment on it yesterday ‘cause I was fucking terrified, but this place is a wreck.”

Leave it to Richie to ruin the moment.

“We haven’t been here in a long time,” Bev speaks up, “It’s been, what, three years?”

“Well three years is plenty of time for this place to look like a shithole,” Richie retorts, cue eye roll.

While he’s missed his friends, Bill thinks it’s time to get down to why they came here. He finds an empty, sturdy (ish) bucket and sits down. When he looks back up, ready to speak, he startles to see they’re all looking at him. Even Richie and Eddie have stopped their bickering and are sitting next to each other in the hammock.

“S-so,” his voice comes out weaker than he’d expected, and he clears his throat, begins again.

“S-so, h-has a-anyone seen I-i-i-it?” He holds back for a moment, though isn’t sure why. He’d seen it, however fleeting the encounter. Something in him tells him to wait, and he listens.

“No,” Stan speaks up, and Bill is both surprised and relieved at his answer. Stan is the easiest target among them, and Bill is grateful It so far hasn’t gone after him.

“None of us have,” Ben says, and it surprises Bill for a different reason. “We talked about it, before you got here.”

“Have you?” Bev asks, and Bill knows he could answer honestly. Knows that he could tell them the truth and every person there would be behind him. No matter how scared they were themselves, they’d always have his back. He hesitates for a moment, but it isn’t hard to decide what to tell them.

“N-no,” he replies, but can’t bring himself to meet her eyes. He’s worried she’ll be able to tell he’s lying if he does. There must be a reason It only showed itself to Bill, though. Until he figures out why, he refuses to bring the people he cares about into it.

After he answers, it’s as if a collective breath being held is released. He allows himself a moment of sick guilt, then straightens his shoulders.  

“H-how a-about we g-go for a-a sw-swim?” he asks, knowing his friends would all agree, despite Eddie’s usual complaints. Sure enough, they’re already moving toward the exit. As far as distractions go, it’s a win.

When he walks past Mike, getting ready to climb out himself, he notices the way Mike looks at him. Maybe he’d seen Bill hesitate? Bill is a bit worried, but in the end only smiles. The moment breaks when he turns to climb. He hopes that Mike keeps whatever suspicions he might have to himself.

OOOOO

When Bill gets home late that afternoon, the house is empty. He’d expected nothing less, but the quiet of the house is a shock after the warm vibe he’s had all day. Despite feeling weighed down with guilt to start with, he’d enjoyed the time spent with his friends. Now, he flicks on several lights and turns the radio on in an attempt to chase the feeling.

He’s hungry, started to regret skipping out on breakfast two hours before. A familiar tune comes on the radio, and he dances and sings along a bit while he makes a couple sandwiches. He’s halfway through his second one when the lights cut off, radio going silent. The late afternoon sun is no longer enough light to see with, and his eyes take a moment to adjust to the dimness.  

He half ponders checking the breaker, but gets a familiar feeling that makes his hair stand on end. He knows nothing tripped the breaker, and he now has a much unwanted visitor. Though he’d been expecting something, the childish giggle still startles him. Out the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of yellow glide past the kitchen doorway.

 Why is it always Georgie?

Yet, he knows exactly why. He knows that it’s fruitless, but he will always chase after Georgie. For what he did, he’ll always try to save his baby brother. No matter how in vain.

There’s nothing in the living room when he gets there, but the sound of feet above his head leads him to the stairs. He hesitates there, remembers that this is exactly what It wants. Slowly, he climbs the stairs one at a time. Checking Georgie’s room first reveals that it’s empty. He makes his way over to his room, the door closed even though he knows he left it open. Turning the handle, Bill opens the door.

He’s standing in a corner, farthest away from Bill. The yellow slicker is filthy, a testament to the time the boy’s been gone. Bill holds back a gag when he realizes most of Georgie’s left arm is gone. All that’s left is a mangled, dripping mess. He pauses when he notices that Georgie is crying.

“G-Georgie? Wh-what’s wr-wr-wrong?” he inches closer to the boy, not wanting the other to run again.

“Save me, Billy,” Georgie cries, and the sound of his voice tears Bill’s heart in half.

“H-how, G-Georgie? H-how d-do I s-save you?”  

He gets no answer, and before he realizes it, Georgie is around and past him. Straight out the door. Bill turns to follow him, is now crying himself, but the door slams hard in his face.  

The sun had continued to set, and when Bill turns around, the room is on its way to complete darkness. He can just see the outline of something tall- huge-  making its way toward him. He’s aware that he should be scared, there’s only one thing it could be after all. Right now, he’s only angry.

“Hiya, Billy!” the shrill voice of Pennywise greets him, and the room lightens enough for his human eyes to see. At least It’s considerate? Billy wonders why It wants him to see It, instead of terrorizing him in the dark. It would be easier, he thinks, wouldn’t it?

“W-what d-do y-you want?”  

He’s deep in his anger. Mad about everything this creature has ever done to him, his friends- his family. He grits his teeth when It only smiles at him, amused that he’s mad. It moves closer to him, but Bill stands his ground. When It brings It’s hands closer to his face, he flinches, sure that he’s about to lose an eye. Or his life. He’s more than a little confused when, instead of mauling or killing him, It grasps his face gently. He almost wished It had killed him, the tenderness of the touch overwhelming.  

“Oh, it’s not about what Pennywise wants, Silly Billy,” here Bill swears It caresses his face, and he’s starting to freak out. “It’s what you want.”

“Wh-what do you me-mean?” Pennywise looks at him, and It smiles the widest smile Bill’s seen on It yet. He must be seeing things, but it almost looks genuine to him.  

“Don’t you want Georgie back, Billy boy?” It stares him in the eye, and doesn’t blink once. Bill is drawn into the gaze, caught up in the way Its eyes glow. It’s almost...beautiful. That word snaps him out of the daze. He’s horrified with himself for thinking something like that for a creature that can and has killed. Many, many times over.

“B-but G-Georgie’s d-d-dead,” just saying the words makes Bill feel like his chest will cave in. “Y-y-you ki-killed h-him!”

Pennywise takes a step back from him when he yells, but doesn’t release him. There is still a thin, long-fingered hand cupping his chin in a loose grip. The grip tightens for a second, and Bill thinks It’s going to choke him, but It loosens Its hand once again. Leaning back in, Pennywise brings It’s face close to his.  

“What if We said We can bring him back?” Bill doesn’t understand why It’s calling itself ‘we’, but glosses over that when he registers what It was saying.  

“B-bring him b-back…,” Bills voice sounds broken even to himself, and he tells himself that this is a trick. There’s no way It could bring his brother back from the dead. A part of him holds out hope, though. If It’s capable of all the other things he’s seen, why not this? He feels sick, but he asks anyway.

“How?”

It laughs at his question, the sound high pitched and far from any laugh he’s heard before.  

“That’s a secret, Little One, one too complicated for you to understand." Bill feels miffed, finds himself wanting to know all the secrets this being holds. He’s not sure why he cares, only that he’s curious. His doubt that It can do it is gone, though, somehow he knows that It’s not spouting nonsense. He’s intrigued, and It can tell. It grins, like It can read his mind. Can tell that he’s close to giving in.  

“We’ll give you Georgie, and We’ll even promise not to hurt your friends.”  

The words sound too good to Billy, he wonders why It would give him all this to begin with. A thrill shoots through his body when he realizes that it’s not going to be for free.

“W-what’s the catch?” he asks, wondering if he can accept whatever the creature throws at him. What would and wouldn’t he do to have his brother back? To ensure that his friends are safe from this monster?

“Why, Billy boy,” It leans in, lips close to his, and Bill thinks that It’ll kiss him. He tries not to think about the mix of dread and anticipation he feels.  

“You’ll come float with Us.”

#bill denbrough x pennywise #billwise #bill denbrough #pennywise #pennybill #for the love of a monster #ftloam #fanfic

[youvereachedthebadend]

Notes

3/5

"Well, if there’s a supernatural force behind all this shit, you must be wondering what that means. The supernatural is real? Are all myths true? That’s where Raven comes in. I mentioned them in my last note, which...if you haven’t read yet, I’m not going to waste paper space explaining. Just find it. But yeah, Raven. They’re a magician.”

“Yes, I didn’t believe it at first either. But then I saw their eyes change from black to glowing blue with a simple tune, and they lifted rocks into the air with nothing but light. Magic fucking exists. I’ve sort of accepted it at this point, because why not with my life going the way it has. But someone reading this note might not know that. Which is why I’ve decided to try and explain everything Raven’s told me about magic in this note. Emphasis on try. I’m no magician, so I’ll surely be forgetting things. But hopefully I’ve got the basics down.”

“First three questions I asked Raven were 1) how many people had magic? 2) Why didn’t we know about them? and 3) Does this mean other myths and creatures are real? Raven told me that about one in a hundred people are born with the magical talent, though their natural skill will vary. Magicians tend to hide because they’re so outnumbered, and things like guns are just as powerful as their spells. Who knows who’d want to exploit or kill them? And that mythical creatures as we know them, like unicorns and dragons and stuff, don’t exist. But there are...Things that exist. Things that aren’t human, and are powerful. Raven gave me a few examples, but paper space is limited, so I’ll just get to the point: there are no records of something like we’re facing ever being seen before.”

“Next I asked them how magic worked. Were there rules? How does someone cast spells? Raven said that learning spells was just like learning anything else: some people will be drawn to certain spells, liking them more or just being better at them. Casting spells requires magical energy, which will take time to regenerate. The more you use, the longer it takes, of course. Drain yourself completely of magic, and that’s it. You don’t have anything more if you don’t leave yourself a spark to regenerate from. Some people have more magic than others, but that doesn’t equal skill.”

“Raven said casting spells falls into three categories. All magicians use one of these to channel their magic. It’s not something you learn, it’s just something you have. You’re born able to channel magic a specific way, nothing else:”

“Vocal focus: Magicians will cast spells using their voice. They’ll chant, read poetry, sing, whistle. Raven themself is a vocal focus; they hum or sing to cast spells. For them, it’s the notes that matter, but for other vocal magicians it’s the words or the rhythm or the beat. Anything, as long as it’s a sound that comes out of your mouth.”

“Motion focus: Magicians will cast spells through movement. This involves dancing, gesturing...apparently Raven once knew a magician who channeled magic through facial expressions. Must’ve been pretty inconvenient. But the point is, the magician has to move. Maybe only part of their body, maybe the whole thing, but they have to be in motion.”

“Scripted focus: Magicians will cast spells through writing. Or not just writing, also drawing. Sometimes they need ink or paint, sometimes only a pencil or piece of chalk will do. Anything that involves leaving a mark (apparently even a digital tablet and stylus will work.) These guys’ spells tend to be more powerful, but take longer to create.”

“Raven then said that magic takes the form of colored light. And it’s then that I realized something. If you’ve read my first note, you’ll remember one of Chase’s friends, the one I identified through him having a mask. Well...he might be a magician. Well, he was, I know he did like stage magic tricks. But I’ve always wondered why green light sometimes appeared during those tricks, when he flourished his arms a bit too much. I asked Raven about this, and they said he probably was a real magician. But they were confused about one thing: the color of the light. Apparently, magic isn’t supposed to be green. Magic is only red, yellow, blue, purple, or silver. Never green.”

“That reminded Raven of something. They explained to me that they worked for something called the Réalta Council, which apparently governs magicians in this part of the world. They were sent to this city to investigate it.”

“See, this city wasn’t normal, magic-wise, even before people were getting controlled. There was something around it, some sort of gigantic aura that, and I quote, “did things to people’s magic.” They wouldn’t explain further. But they said that all magicians were forbidden to enter this city for decades. Every ten years they sent someone in to find young magicians born in here and “take them away” (I wasn’t fond of that, but Raven assured me they got permission from the kid and the parents,) but otherwise, no magician had set foot in the city since this aura appeared in the 1920s.”

“Until this aura vanished. A few years ago, apparently, but this Council wanted to wait to see if it would come back. It didn’t. And then a different aura appeared, surrounding the city again. Raven was sent to check it out, but the minute they passed the border of this aura, they lost all communication with the Council. And they couldn’t leave. Every time they thought to, they physically froze. So now they’re stuck here. And apparently, so are we. Because this new aura is keeping people from leaving, probably because of this controlling force.”

“And again, apparently there are no records of anything like this force. Raven was apparently pretty high up in the Council, and they’re positive they’ve never heard of anything like it. There are things that influence electricity, and things that can hypnotize people, but never so...thoroughly. And on such a large scale.”

“Raven’s current theory is that this force comes from some kind of pocket dimension. There are apparently a lot of those, sprinkled across the earth. They’re called the Places in between the folds of the world. They’re supposedly empty, but maybe the magicians are wrong in thinking that. We don’t know.”

“Or maybe it’s a new kind of Thing. These...Things are supposed to be pretty powerful, ranging from on par with the stronger magicians to “able to destroy nations.” I really hope this force isn’t one of the latter.”

“But maybe it’s not a Thing. Maybe it’s a person with magic of some kind. Magic that’s never been seen before. We don’t know. We have no way of knowing. But we have to figure it out.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye au #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #antisepticeye #septic eye sam #stacysnotes #badendwriting #whatledtotheend

[wordssometimesfail]

Textual Reddie & Queer!Eddie: A Masterpost

So I’ve been planning on doing something like this for a while, but it had fallen to the wayside until @skinks​ and I started talking about Reddie again, and my weak little heart was rekindled.  

Speaking of reKINDLEd (ehh? Ehhhhh?), my Kindle copy of IT is full of highlighted textual support of unresolved Reddie feelings, and a queer reading of Eddie specifically. And lo, a disjointed essay-type meta was birthed. This fucker’s about to get long, so if you’re interested, dive on under the cut – but be forewarned, there are massive spoilers for the book and (probably) Chapter 2 below!

(Seriously, cannot emphasize the MASSIVE SPOILERS enough. If you don’t know what happens and you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read this.) 

As a very general disclaimer, I am not going to be including everything that I highlighted. There is a fuckton, including a lot of small moments of Richie and Eddie interacting that don’t showcase anything other than their closeness. I’ll be paring it down here to moments that prove a larger theme, and some standout cuteness. With that said, IT is a 1,300-page behemoth, and it’s definitely possible that I skipped over something. If you know of anything significant that I missed, feel free to reblog with additions.

Note: I will be using terrible, half-assed MLA citations for this. Pagination is from my Kindle copy of the novel. All quotes will be italicized to help differentiate them visually from my points (if something was italicized in the original text, it’ll be unitalicized here). Unless otherwise stated, all bolded emphasis is mine. “--” will be used in place of em-dashes, “/” will be used to denote paragraph breaks.  

PART I – ASTHMA

“When Eddie’s nervous he reaches for his aspirator.” (King 372)

It doesn’t get much more explicit than this. We’re told in no uncertain terms that Eddie’s psychosomatic asthma is rooted in nervousness, in things that make him scared and uncomfortable. The trigger for this particular explanation is being overwhelmed by the age and significance of Boston, but in an earlier scene:  

“These shoes no longer looked just right... but he supposed they would do for where he was going. And for whatever he might have to do when he got there. Maybe Richie Tozier would-- / But then the blackness threatened and he felt his throat beginning to close up.” (King 112)  

This is Eddie’s first on-page asthma attack. It hits him the first time we see him as an adult, having just received his call from Mike to return to Derry. And yet it’s the thought of Richie, not It or Derry, that makes Eddie nervous enough to need his aspirator. Notably, the thought goes unfinished. We don’t know, nor do we ever find out in explicit terms, what Eddie thought Richie Tozier would.  

Of course, asthma is the most prominent symptom of Eddie’s hypochondria, so the attacks crop up often in the text. The most interesting of these attacks for our purposes (other than Eddie becoming nervous at the thought of Richie) is the following:  

“‘The first of the ‘new murders’ [...] began on the Main Street Bridge and ended underneath it. The victim was a gay and rather childlike man named Adrian Mellon. He had a bad case of asthma.’ / Eddie’s hand stole out and touched the side of his aspirator.” (King 646)

Mike (speaking) tells the gang about the death of Adrian Mellon, and takes care to note three things about him: he was gay, he was childlike, and he had asthma. The connection between Eddie and Adrian is drawn quickly and obviously as Eddie reaches for his aspirator, seemingly out of reflex - but what we can also infer here is that this is making Eddie nervous. He could be nervous because a man with asthma was just killed by It, and he, too, is a man with asthma. He could also be nervous because the parallel that Mike and the prose have none-too-subtly drawn between Eddie and Adrian implies that they have more in common than a respiratory problem. But what?

PART II – EDDIE/ADRIAN

“[The other Losers] are being called--I know that much. Each murder in this new cycle has been a call.” (King 1116)

Mike writes this in the fourth interlude, referring to the way that It’s murders 27 years later all seem to be calling out to the Losers’ Club. By drawing a parallel between Eddie and Adrian through their asthma, King leads us to believe that Adrian’s murder specifically called to Eddie. He also leads us to consider how else they might be linked.

Adrian is virtually Eddie’s opposite. He’s out and proud and in a loving, unstrained relationship. He flirts openly with other men, teases his aggressors, and, to contrast with the neurotic and nervous Eddie:  

“‘He didn’t have much in the way of protective coloration. He was one of those fools who think things really are going to turn out all right.’” (King 27)  

His openness, however, is what gets him killed. While being harassed by some homophobes, Adrian teases and antagonizes them, and the next time they see him they assault him and unwittingly gift him, half-dead, to Pennywise.  

It especially kills me that Adrian’s asthma is not significantly mentioned in his chapter. He makes a comment to his boyfriend that the “air’s better” (King 36) in Derry, which could imply that he has had less problems since he moved there, but the word “asthma” is never used. It’s not relevant to his story, and it’s not brought up until King has to draw a parallel between Adrian and Eddie. Because it’s not relevant to Adrian’s story, the connection that King draws between them feels almost half-assed and weak, until one considers their contrasting personalities and contrasting happinesses in their respective relationships. Along that same line of thinking, the implications of having Eddie directly paralleled by a gay man killed for being gay cast a suspicious light on Eddie’s presumed straightness.  

If we accept that Eddie and Adrian are linked, that Adrian’s murder was a specific call to Eddie, then it goes without saying that there is a strong implication here that Eddie is closeted. He is being contrasted with an out gay man who fears no consequence for being out in a small, violent, hateful town. Eddie’s neuroses and fixation on his psychosomatic asthma are contrasted with a man who hadn’t a care in the world - not even his (presumably) real physical condition. The fear and self-hate that dogged Eddie his whole life never bothered Adrian Mellon, until it killed him.  

If we accept that Eddie and Adrian are linked, and what that implies, then we can infer that Adrian is what Eddie could have been, were he happy, open, and out - and what happens to Adrian is the exact kind of thing that may have kept poor, terrified Eddie in the closet.  

PART III – SEX, QUEERNESS, AND SELF-LOATHING

So, I think we all remember the leper scene--creepy in the 2017 movie, even creepier in the novel. One notable book-only detail is that the leper “[offers] to give Eddie a blowjob for a quarter” (King 400) in addition to chasing him around and being generally disgusting.  

“Come back here, kid, the hoarse voice whispered. I’ll blow you for free. Come back here! / No, Eddie moaned at it. Please, go away, I don’t want to think about that.” (King 394)

Eddie is immediately terrified by the mere thought of getting a blowjob, of being touched by someone diseased, of being touched by a man. He doesn’t even want to think about it... and then the question becomes, does he not want to think about sex with the leper, or sex at all? Regardless, it seems pretty normal for an eleven-year-old boy to be scared of a blowjob from a strange adult with open sores on his face. But there is, of course, more to unpack here.  

Another difference between book and film comes when Eddie recounts the tale to Richie and Bill...:

“‘He didn’t have leprosy, you dummy,’ Richie said. “He had [syphilis].’ / […] / ‘It’s a disease you get from fucking,’ Richie said. ‘You know about fucking, don’t you, Eds?’ / ‘Sure,’ Eddie said. He hoped he wasn’t blushing.” (King 400)

All of a sudden Eddie isn’t just afraid of disease, but of a sexually transmitted disease. Pennywise’s angle on Eddie is a big fuck-off combo of decay and sex--specifically gay sex. Not only is the “leper” a man offering him sexual favours, but Bill is quick to point out that men can get syphilis from “another g-g-guy if they’re kwuh-kwuh-queer" (King 402). Queerness and gay sex are therefore lumped in with Eddie’s fear of the “leper” from word go.  

Since he’s a pre-pubescent child (in that same scene, Eddie recalls trying to masturbate and nothing happening), Eddie’s disinterest in and general apprehension towards sex makes sense without bringing the element of internalized homophobia into the mix. But this is my post, I can do what I want, and Stephen King already brought it into the mix for me.  

Eddie is frightened by the thought of queer sex at another notable point in the novel as well, when he recalls a vignette from his and the Losers’ past:  

“Patrick Hockstetter was down [in the Barrens]. Before It took him Beverly saw him doing something bad. It made her laugh but she knew it was bad. Something to do with Henry Bowers, wasn’t it? Yes, I think so. And-- / [Eddie] turned away suddenly and started back toward the abandoned depot, not wanting to look down into the Barrens anymore, not liking the thoughts they conjured up. He wanted to be home with Myra.” (King 720)

Myra, for those who haven’t read the novel, is Eddie’s wife. If you’re one of those people (or even if you haven’t read it in a while), you might also be wondering what exactly Patrick Hockstetter did to Henry Bowers in the Barrens that made Eddie balk and suddenly crave his wife’s company. Well, my friends, Patrick tried to give Henry Bowers a blowjob. Eddie has to turn away from the mere thought of two men (well, boys) engaging in a sex act. He has to return to his wife, the implication here being that she is there to shield him from queerness, from queer sex.  

And the scene between Patrick and Henry, which we do see later from Bev’s point of view, is extremely telling as to why Eddie has to turn away. Henry gets violent and angry when Patrick propositions him, just like Adrian Mellon’s assailants got violent and angry, just like Eddie’s own mother gets defensive and cruel at the thought of a pair of (unconfirmed) gay men in their town with a nicer house than hers:  

“‘Any two men who bother keeping a house so nice must be queers,’ Eddie’s mother had once said in a disgruntled sort of way, and Eddie hadn’t dared ask for clarification.” (King 712)  

Eddie here is afraid to even question the root of his mother’s assumptions, or the very fact of her prejudice. Questioning, experimentation, being openly anything other than straight in Derry only earns you bile and violence from the rest of the town, and Eddie knows this. Why would anyone come out? How could they? Isn’t it better to just turn away and leave the thought unfinished?  

And it is explicit that Eddie feels somehow wrong and incomplete, in addition to his general aversion to all things queer and sexual. At one point, compounding himself and the homeless “leper”, Eddie has an internal monologue that ends as follows:  

“I got me a disease that’s eating me up. My skin’s cracking open, my teeth are falling out, and you know what? I can feel myself turning bad like an apple that’s going soft. I can feel it happening, eating from the inside to the out, eating, eating, eating me.” (King 405)

By conflating himself with the “leper”, Eddie makes the disease his own. He makes his fear of the “leper” falling apart a fear he has about himself. He fears something within himself, something rotten, turning him “bad” - bad like offering a blowjob to Henry Bowers in the Barrens. It’s a literal fear of disease, to be sure, but that sense of being rotten to the core, being bad on the inside in a way you cannot change, also feels like an apt metaphor for internalized homophobia in light of the subtextual queerness of the rest of Eddie’s fear. And especially in light of another scene in which he feels inferior, rotten, wrong:

“Simply reaching for the cubes of bread [at communion] became an act which required courage, and he always feared an electrical shock... or worse, that the bread would suddenly change color in his hand, become a blood-clot, and a disembodied Voice would begin to thunder in the church: Not worthy! Not worthy! Damned to Hell! Damned to Hell!” (King 1247)  

We will absolutely come back to the fact that Eddie uses Voice with a capital V, but for now let’s focus on the rest of the scene. Eddie’s fear of being damned and unworthy is rooted in a story his Sunday School teacher told him, about a boy who blasphemed. Even as a small child, he has anxiety about his existence or behaviour cursing him – making him diseased, or turning bread into blood. And, of course, for the purposes of this reading, we can’t ignore the fact that queerness and American Christianity don’t typically go hand-in-hand. This compounded with the suggestion that he is rotten from the inside out suggests that Eddie has some reason to think he has blasphemed – and his persistent association with queerness suggests that this reason may be the knowledge or suspicion that he isn’t straight.  

Eddie’s worries even follow him into adulthood:  

“Get off it, Eds, Richie’s voice seemed to whisper. You ain’t solid at all […].” (King 715)

I included this quote because it reinforces my point about Eddie not feeling whole or right within himself. It’s not quite time for the Reddie part of this meta, but I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that Richie is nowhere in this scene and has absolutely nothing to do with it, and still it’s his voice that voices Eddie’s subconscious fears about not being “solid”. Again, I will be going into this in more detail later. First, there’s one more element of this queer reading of Eddie that needs to be tackled.  

PART IV – THIS ONE QUOTE GETS TO BE ITS OWN PART BECAUSE MY GOD

Most of you are probably familiar with Anthony Perkins, even if you don’t know you are – if you’ve ever been exposed to Psycho, either by watching it or through pop-cultural osmosis, you'll know him as Norman Bates. You also may or may not know that he was famously closeted. He reportedly only had relationships with men until he met and married Berinthia Berenson in his early 40s, and never came out during his lifetime. (Obviously one’s sexual history doesn’t necessarily determine one’s sexuality, but most sources I can find suggest that he was gay, not bisexual.)

Now, if you read Eddie Kaspbrak as gay, this may sound somewhat familiar. Married a woman, never came out, horror icon, it’s all there. But why do I bring it up? Well, because of this:  

“Eddie--it was weird but true--had grown up to look quite a little bit like Anthony Perkins.” (King 628)

On its own, it’s a seemingly innocuous, if oddly specific, pop-cultural reference. Nothing to write home about. Compounded with everything else we know about Eddie, and everything else I’ve covered above? It’s telling as balls. King could have simply described Eddie, as he does immediately after this line, but he takes the time to compare a character repeatedly associated with queerness and sexual repression to a closeted gay man who eventually married a woman.  

(Note: admittedly, IT would’ve been written in the early-mid 80s, at which point Perkins was not officially known to be gay, but according to my father there were plenty of rumours. He was, additionally, known as a repressed, shy “mama’s boy” who was made nervous by female attention. Sound like anyone else we know?)  

PART V – REDDIE

And now for the main event.  

If I unpack every individual piece of Reddie goodness to the degree that I’ve unpacked Eddie himself, we’ll be here for another 2,500 words. So, I’m only going to hit three major points:  

PART VA – CLOSENESS

Richie is all over Eddie. He frequently pinches Eddie’s cheeks, calls him cute, and is all-around physically and verbally affectionate with him. Some notable examples:  

“Richie […] pinched Eddie’s cheek. / ‘Don’t do that! I hate it when you do that, Richie.’ / ‘Ah, you love it, Eds,’ Richie said, and beamed at him.” (King 384-85)

This is their first on-page interaction, mind you. This moment sets the stage for the rest of their relationship.

“Richie jumped to his feet a second time and pinched Eddie’s cheek. ‘Cute, cute, cute!’ Richie exclaimed.” (King 390)  

“‘[My aunts] all pinch my cheek and tell me how much I’ve grown,’ Eddie said. / ‘That’s cause they know how cute you are, Eds--just like me. I saw what a cutie you were the first time I met you.’” (King 446-47)  

Listen. Do you think I’ll ever get over this? Do you think I can move on, knowing that this exists? Richie teases everyone, but he only ever uses “cute” for Eddie.  

“‘Take it easy, Eds,’ Richie soothed, and leaned toward him. / ‘Don’t call me Eds and don’t you dare pinch my cheek!’ [Eddie] cried, rounding on Richie. ‘You know I hate that! I always hated it!’ / Richie recoiled, blinking.” (King 668)

This scene takes place when they’re adults, and I love it for a number of reasons – the easy return to form for both of them, Richie genuinely trying to comfort Eddie, and Richie’s surprise at being snapped at. My heart goes out to the man. 

“‘I hate it when you call me Eds.’ / ‘I know,’ Richie said, hugging him tightly, ‘but somebody has to toughen you up, Eds. When you stop leading the sheltered igs-zistence of a child and grow up, you gonna, Ah say, Ah say you gonna find out life ain’t always this easy, boy!’ / Eddie began to shriek with laughter.” (King 1334)

There are quite a few scenes where they make each other laugh, but this one is my personal favourite.  

And the cherry on top:  

“[Richie] slapped Eddie’s can.” (King 1322)  

The context of this is less than shippy (they’re squeezing through a tight passageway, Richie is behind Eddie and needs him to move forward), but there are few ships that can say that party A has canonically smacked party B’s ass, and I think we should appreciate that more as a fandom.  

There’s also a strong element of protectiveness – Richie is very protective of Eddie in a way that Eddie’s mother isn’t. He genuinely pays attention to Eddie’s needs and tries to do right by him:  

“It was Richie and Bev who went to Eddie. […] Richie dug his aspirator out of his pocket. ‘Bite on this, Eddie,’ he said, and Eddie took a hitching, gasping breath as Richie pulled the trigger.” (King 903)  

“Richie heard Eddie cough twice […] and then fall silent again. He shouldn’t be down here, he thought […].” (King 968)  

“...Eddie [agreed to follow Bill into the sewers] last. / ‘I don’t think so, Eddie,’ Richie said. ‘Your arm’s not, you know, looking too cool.’” (King 1251)  

“Richie turned Bill toward him, looked at him as you would look at a man who is hopelessly raving. ‘Bill, we have to take care of Eddie. We have to get a tourniquet on him, get him out of here.’” (King 1396)

Hey fun fact? Fun fucking fact, Eddie’s already dead in this scene and Richie knows that.  

On a cheerier note, and to add one last dimension to Eddie and Richie’s closeness, Richie is the only person with whom we see Eddie intentionally swapping spit/germs (outside of ritualistic bloodletting). Not only does Richie use Eddie’s aspirator at one point, but there’s also this scene:  

“‘I can carry [the Parcheesi board],’ Eddie said, a little out of breath. ‘How about a lick on your Rocket?’ / ‘Your mom wouldn’t approve, Eddie,’ Richie said sadly. […] ‘[…] Ah say you kin get germs eatin after someone else!’ / ‘I’ll chance it,’ Eddie said. / Reluctantly, Richie held his Rocket up to Eddie’s mouth... and snatched it away quickly as soon as Eddie had gotten in a couple of moderately serious licks.” (King 1243)  

The obvious humour of this scene aside (poor Richie, having to share), the fact that hypochondriac Mama’s boy Eddie doesn’t mind Richie’s germs in particular is both sweet and interesting. The imagery here, of Eddie licking Richie’s Rocket despite his mother’s disapproval (compounded with the pre-established association between Eddie and blowjobs) is just... interesting, to say the least. As is the fact that I totally stole this scene and reversed the roles for the sake of a fic that I would like to pimp as a reward for making it this far into this monstrosity. It has a happy ending, don’t worry. 

What does all of this put together signify? Richie and Eddie are close. They clearly love each other as friends, and the almost flirtatious touching, cute-calling, teasing, protectiveness, and Rocket-licking can also all signify the beginnings of something else as well. If nothing else, it’s fun, sweet fic fodder.  

PART VB – THE VOICE (WITH A CAPITAL V)

This is one of my favourite details. Eddie thinks of all the Losers from time to time, but Richie is straight-up one of the voices in his head. Richie refers to his impressions and characters as Voices with a capital V, and Very often, Eddie will think in them. He’ll hear jokes in them, Pennywise will taunt him with them, he’ll hear the very criticism and hate that he fears hurled back at him in Voices. Right from the start:  

“‘Had any good chucks lately, Eds?’ [Eddie] says out loud, and laughs again.” (King 374)  

As he drives to Derry, Eddie is already laughing and delighting in the thought of his friends (specifically Bill and Richie) and the way they used to be. Later in the same scene:  

“‘Sure, kid, EV-ery day,’ he says in a Richie Tozier Voice, and laughs again.” (King 376)  

King quickly establishes that Richie’s Voices are a source of joy for Eddie, and that Richie himself is one of the Losers that Eddie is most looking forward to seeing. Indeed, in several scenes (including one of the ones quoted above), we see Eddie laughing at or with Richie when he does his Voices, both in the present and the past. But Eddie’s love of the Voices gets twisted by his own subconscious fears – I mentioned earlier that it is a Voice with a capital V that tells Eddie that he’s damned to Hell during his imaginary blood-communion. And it’s Richie’s voice that reminds Eddie that he’s not “solid”, to cap off a scene where he literally runs away from thoughts of queerness and sex. Eddie’s fear of himself becomes conflated with the Voices in a way that suggests his fear is of Richie, of Richie’s hatred, contempt, and dismissal. He is afraid that Richie sees him as unworthy, damned, unsolid. He is afraid that Richie sees the thing that’s eating him from the inside out.  

Eddie wants to be home with Myra. It’s easier to keep Richie and his Voices in his head than to risk what they would (--) do if they saw all of Eddie clearly.  

PART VC – EDS & EDDIE’S DEATH

Yes, we all know and love “Eds”. We love Richie being a little shit, we love Eddie being his tsundere self, and we love that Eddie canonically has a soft spot for the nickname:  

“Man, he had hated it when Richie called him Eds... but he had sort of liked it, too.” (King 374)

We also love (or hate) that “Eds” factors into Eddie and Richie’s final exchange in the novel:  

“But there was something else [Eddie] had to say [before he died]. / ‘Richie,’ he whispered. / ‘What?’ Richie was down on his hands and knees, staring at him desperately. / ‘Don’t call me Eds,’ he said, and smiled. He raised his left hand slowly and touched Richie’s cheek. Richie was crying. ‘You know I... I...’ Eddie closed his eyes, thinking how to finish, and while he was still thinking it over he died.” (King 1386)  

(A.k.a. the scene that nearly made me throw my Kindle across the room.)  

This ties into a broader theme with Eddie that I only began noticing when I started compiling my notes for this meta – his thoughts, when connected to other men, queerness, or sex, often go unfinished. He cuts them off before they stray somewhere that makes him nervous (the thought of Richie giving him an asthma attack), before they stray anywhere at all (the memory of Patrick and Henry making him yearn for Myra, not wanting to think about blowjobs), or before they even become thoughts (not daring to question his mother’s homophobic comments). And here, when he has to say one thing before he dies, when he’s finally allowing himself to conclude a sentimental, intimate thought that he doesn’t even know how to word... he’s cut off one last time.  

And we don’t know what he was going to say. We can speculate, we can infer, but we don’t know, just as we will never know what “Richie Tozier would”.  

Richie Tozier seems to know, though. When he realizes they’ll have to leave Eddie’s body behind, he kisses Eddie’s cheek (just as Eddie touched his in his final moments, and in contrast to the way he used to pinch them) and...:  

“Richie got up and turned toward the door. ‘Fuck you, Bitch!’ he cried suddenly, and kicked the door shut with his foot. It made a solid chukking sound as it closed and latched. / ‘Why’d you do that?’ Beverly asked. / ‘I don’t know,’ Richie said, but he knew well enough.” (King 1427)

Richie’s shutting the door on Pennywise and the sewers and the whole horrible tragedy of it all, yes. But he’s also furious with the grief of losing Eddie, and shutting the door that will now forever separate Eddie’s final resting place from the hole where he died. Bev’s question allows Richie to do just what Eddie did, too – keep it quiet, cut it off, not acknowledge what he’s avoiding or what he’s just lost. Still, he knows well enough.  

PART VI – CONCLUSION  

I don’t know for sure that King intended for Eddie to be closeted, but I think he did. He’s gone on the record that he believes in leaving stuff like this for the reader to figure out. There are a lot of scenes, a lot of small moments, that suggest that Eddie is gay, and while many of them make sense without that reading, the entirety of the picture they paint does not. I’m partial to Reddie, and as I’ve demonstrated above, I believe there is a lot of textual evidence to support the theory that they had feelings for each other. Eddie’s death alone, and the fact that the last thing he had to say needed to be addressed to Richie while Eddie held his face in his hands, is... a LOT. But I’ll be honest – my loyalty is to queer!Eddie on its own.  

If Eddie Kaspbrak is gay, then his story is ten times more heartbreaking. It’s a story of fear, not just of the supernatural but of the very real hatred and pain he would have faced being openly gay in Derry. It’s a story of fearing that something inside of him was rotten and sick and sinful, and that one of his closest friends in the world thought so too. It’s a story of self-loathing. And it’s a story without an end, because Eddie could never let himself think of how to finish admitting what he needed to admit to himself. The truth was lost in asthma attacks, in Myra, in death. In that sense, it’s fitting that King never explicitly stated that Eddie was gay, if that was indeed his intent – it's one more thing we’ll never know for sure, because Eddie couldn’t bring himself to tell us.  

THAT BEING SAID. My loyalty is to queer!Eddie. Which means that my loyalty is to making this shit better, exploring and dissecting the hell out of it, and fixing it. Give Eddie Kaspbrak the ending he deserved! Let him finish his thoughts! Take these quotes, draw inspiration from them, and let’s all cling to each other in preparation for Chapter 2.  

#it stephen king #stephen king's it #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #gay eddie kaspbrak #it meta #reddie meta #Aaliya writes #I have been working on this... for a long time #please tell me what you think and what I've missed #unless what you think is that eddie isn't gay because why are you here then #why did you read this #who are you

[vixthefantheorist]

Is Anti the Shadow of the Egos pt. 2

Or an add on really. But an important one that I did touch on in my previous post - right here - that I didn’t go into detail yet. Or I was planning too but forgot the words at the time since I was writing that at like... midnight or something.

Anyway, the bit that I wanted to focus on now is this little tidbit.

Again its just theory I have. That Anti is/was a Shadow self of Jack but evolved into something more. Hell maybe Anti is the shadow of all the egos, absorbing their fears and darkness that they refuse to face… with the exception of Chase to a degree. Chase is a ball of negativity and acknowledges it, but likely refuses to face the reason of why or do anything about it; and Anti finds it funny or hell thinks of him as a battery to drain energy from. Who knows.

The reason I point that out is.. because it is true each ego has their own set of fears. Fears that Anti would be all to happy to latch onto and needle at them with. But the biggest fear they all collectively *share* - is the fear of being forgotten and replaced.

Which of course is a valid reason. Seán had stated before that all the egos are each their own person, not fragments of Jack or anything. At least in the Lore. But the thing is it doesn’t matter if they are or not. Every human in the world has their own fears. Spiders, darkness, oceans, etc. But again, the biggest fear nearly everyone has... is being forgotten and replaced. We are creatures that desire to be remembered in some shape or form. Thus, we leave behind pieces of ourselves in creativity. Art, music, literature, architecture and of course important points in history. We all want to be remembered.  

The thing is that Egos thrive and exist on the attention and memory of the creator and the community. If the community forgets, they exist to the creator. If the creator forgets but the community remembers, they exist to them. But if both forget... they vanish. Fade into nothing.  And that’s the problem. People are easily swayed by the next new thing, creators and community shift ideas often but as long as they love the creations, the Egos in this case, then they don’t need to worry for a while. But eventually they would fade like all things do.  Back on track, sorry, Egos fear being forgotten and/or replaced by whatever new thing pops up. Anti has that fear as well despite how he rants about attention, which is likely fear disguised as rage.Anyway, that is ONE fear they all share... even with Anti... perhaps that fear... one they know is there but do not want to think about... not want to face... is where Anti came from. 

Maybe. I don’t know for certain.

But if that is one fear that links them all together than its that one fear Anti is anchored to, his link to the egos, his way to possess them and interfere with any chances they try to use to rescue Jack or each other from his influence. A link that he uses to read their other fears, invade their dreams and twist them into nightmares. And a root to draw in their hidden negativity. 

Because, come on, we all know no one is innocent here. Each one has a skeleton in their closet and we don’t know those yet because we haven’t gotten to those points yet. But they do have a certain... anger to the community. Or at least I think so. After all, this is just my theory and observation, so take it with a grain salt.

Each ego may or may not have an bone to pick with the Community. Again, just *My* thoughts.  JJ: Hardly seen as anything but innocent with no real way to defend himself. Either he’s good or evil that’s all really anyone thinks of him. Nothing more than that.

Marvin: Again, good or evil, a magician with magic... nothing else. Much like JJ and gets pity. 

Henrik: No one really talks about his family troubles. Either he’s a good friend or a crack job doctor, but again no one really speaks about how his wife cheated on him and took his children away to run off with some tennis instructor.

Jackie: A loved superhero... that gets dumped extremely quickly for a new or better version of him. I mean there was that time that everyone started drawing Seán in spiderman outfits and Jackie was shoved into the backburner for a while. Then people started to change Jackie to be less Jackieboy Man to... JSE version of Spiderman.

Chase: Barely gets anything written or drawn of him with a happy ending. Everything is very depressing and people seem to not want to see that change. So... his life is constantly in a state of depression. And who decided that was his life until spoken otherwise? Seán - or Jack, depending on how you see it.

Again, these are just probabilities, and bits I of info I got from a couple of other theorists I spoke to in the JSE discord server, so its second hand knowledge and *NOT* 100% correct or accurate. (Kinda hard to with 22 + million fans running around) Everyone has their own ideas of the Egos, so this is *not* a blast at anyone. So please don’t think of it as such. 

Anyway, each Ego has a sore spot and a bit of anger they may not want to face and acknowledge out of fear. And as I said in the previous post, that negative emotions that are rejected break away into shadows. If this was a case of Anti being a shadow like the shadow selves from Persona. 

If Anti absorbs that, then he knows their darkness, their fears and can use it against them in various ways. To corrupt them to join him, to have them turn on the community and Jack. Or slowly drive them insane. Take your pick. 

Its like Anti is the major shadow in this show. Because if you remember Dr. Jacksepticeye, the one ‘ego’ that was trying to pass off as the good doctor and we all knew it was Henrik Von Schneeplestein that is our good doctor ego. We were all suspicious. And Henrik kicked in the door and wanted this person out of his chair and out of his spot as the doctor. That was fear. Henrik’s fear of being replaced by someone new... a shadow of himself in a way. And from then, we do not know what happened to Dr. Jack or Henrik.

And in Chase’s case, he was completely abandoned and forgotten by Stacy and the kids. Was it by choice? Who knows? Did she remarry? Who knows? But its hurting Chase deeply since he cannot for the life of him somehow get them to take him back or prove he is a good husband and father. Honestly, being the one with the most fleshed out story, we still don’t know much of Chase or his situation. Just that he’s depressed and lonely and struggling to move on. Jack and Henrik seemed to be helping him with that, until Anti drop kicked Jack into a coma and can’t talk to him as he used to.

Do you think Anti is a shadow of them? Or just a shadow of Jack but linked to their central fear of being replaced? Or an amalgamation of their fears but sentient and wants revenge? Or something else? I’m curious.

---------

Though there is another way to see Anti. Not really a Shadow to Jack or the egos... but a Shadow; a dark mirror to - 

Us. The community.

If you look at his behavior, its very similar to that of a community of fans, but in a negative light no one really wants to see or acknowledge.

Anti craves attention, very much like fans do when we crave attention from Seán, to get him to talk to us... *acknowledge us* as much as Anti wants acknowledgement. And if we don’t get it, we scream and rant... much like Anti.

We want control of the channel, to have him play this... or that... go here or there. Do this or that... like a puppet dancing for our entertainment. Exactly how Anti wishes control of others, making them cower and dance in fear for his entertainment.

Anti reflects how we are like a dark mirror. And I mean it, that we refuse to look at own darkness but we swoon and fawn over another's. We scream when we don't feel acknowledged or if the youtuber refuses to pay attention to what we want. Anti rants about acknowledgement.

Anti rages at not being paid attention to. Just as many fans of the community rage at not having anyone pay attention to what we do or make. 

We want something done our way. Anti wants things his way. 

We try at times to control something that wasn't ours... just as Anti does...

We yank on the strings to try to get what we want; then hate and threaten if we don't get it. And Anti does the same, hate and threaten the other Egos, Jack because he doesn’t get what he wants.

All fandoms have an ugly side that we often at times refuse to acknowledge exists. Perhaps Anti is our own Shadow... our mirror of ourselves as a community.

Now I say that, not out of arrogance or hate or anything. Hell no. I love this community, I love the people in it because I met people, completely strangers to me but all share the same love of the funny shit in Jacksepticeye. I get to geek out with them and come up with theories and AUs and all kids of fun things because of this community. I love Seán as friend I never met and the content he provides because it brightens my days. But I do acknowledge there is a darker side to all fandoms. We all know it and we all try to ignore it for good reasons.

I just wanted to point this out as a possibility, not a bash to the community or any side. Anti was created by the fans, by US, the community, and should be cherished as something fun. And that’s what it is. Anti is fun, I just really think it would blow my mind if Anti was a fun dark reflection to the community as a way to be linked to the story, the Lore that Seán is making.

Also remember the Lore he’s making isn’t a set in stone story that we all have to abide in writing or drawing the egos. Its just a story he wanted to do for and with us. He even stated himself that He has his own ideas of what Anti is, but its not included in the Lore to keep Anti flexible and fun for everyone to still come up with their own designs and origins of Anti.

But how is that? What do you think? Is Anti a dark reflection of our own darkness~?

#jacksepticeye #jse theories #Chase Brody #dr. schneeplestein #antisepticeye #marvin magnificent #jackieboyman #jameson jackson #vixtheories #Is Anti a shadow of the egos? #Or a shadow of ourselves?

[spn-ficfanatic]

F*ck Cancer- Ch 3: The Beginning

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER FOUR 

Summary: After your rest period it’s time to go back to the hospital for scans before starting your next cycle of chemotherapy. What news will your doctor give?

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Platonic!Reader* *For the Dean ladies/lads: it may not be romantic between him and the reader, but it’s a very close brotherly/sisterly relationship and I still think y’all will really enjoy it :)

Words: 2737

Warnings: Cancer/chemo talk, swearing

Sam and Dean walked either side of you, slowing down to match your stride as you walked from radiology to oncology. You’d just had scans done to check the lump in your brain and were now going to have to anxiously wait to speak with your doctor about the results. You flopped down on a nearby chair with a ‘hhumppff’, the guys following suit.

“I hate hospitals,” Dean commented glumly.

“You’re just jealous that I get to wear the fancy robe,” you told him with a smirk, elbowing him in the ribs. He chuckled and leaned back, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“So how long until we see the doctor?” Sam asked impatiently, his knee jumping up and down nervously.

“A couple of hours, she needs time to get the results of my scan and look them over. Get comfy boys,” you told them, earning a groan from each.

“Y/N?” you heard your doctor call a while later, and you turned your head to see her smiling back at you. “I’m ready for you now, if you’d like to come in.”

You nodded and lifted yourself from your chair. Dean and Sam did the same but were surprised to be stopped by your doctor.

“And who are these handsome gentlemen?” she asked with a kind smile. She’d always been concerned about your refusal to tell anyone about your condition, and you could see she was pleasantly surprised to find you had company.

“This is Sam and Dean,” you told her, and she extended her hand to shake theirs. “They’re old friends, they’re helping me through this. Guys, this is Dr Wheeler.”

“Call me Sally,” she added to them. “I’m so pleased to hear that you’ve opened up to someone Y/N. Now I’m required to ask you, are they joining you in your appointments?”

You nodded, having already discussed this with the guys previously. A part of you was worried about how they would react if the news was bad, but at the same time you wanted them to hear it first hand as well.

Sally smiled as she directed you and the brothers to her office and as you all sat down, the boys either side of you, she closed the door behind her and took a seat at her computer.

“How did the scans go this morning?” she asked you conversationally, and you shrugged.

“OK, I’m fairly used to them by now.”

“That’s good, I know they can be uncomfortable. Well, I’ve taken a look at those results and compared them with the results of the blood tests last week…”

She trailed off as she clicked some files on her computer, and you didn’t miss her smile falter slightly. It was so slight that no-one but a hunter would have spotted it, and you could feel an instant shift in the atmosphere of the room.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to say that the news isn’t what we were hoping for.”

You felt your heart stop, only for a moment. Sam and Dean’s hand instantly took your own and you felt them gently squeeze.

“The tests you had after the last cycle of chemotherapy didn’t show any marked improvement in the size of the tumour, and during the rest period it noticeably increased in diameter.”

“So then why put her in a rest period at all?” asked Dean, and you could hear his anger bubbling under the surface.

“It’s an important step in the treatment process,” Sally explained to him calmly before turning back to you. “Normally the rest period would give your body time to heal before the next cycle, however based on what I’m seeing here I don’t believe that’s a viable option anymore.”

You swallowed thickly, choosing to look at your lap rather than the pity in her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Sam commented. “Why can’t she at least try another cycle of treatment?”

“Her b-”

“Because it won’t help,” you interrupted her. You felt all eyes drawn to you and lowered your head even further, and started picking at the thread on your sleeve. “Because we’ve been down this road before. Because the same thing happened with the first cycle of chemo and we knew it was a possibility with the second. And because I’d already decided that if it didn’t work this time, I wouldn’t proceed with a third.”

You were embarrassed to be admitting this to them. Sure, you’d told them that the odds were slim, but never did you admit that you’d already made up your mind to stop treatment altogether if it stopped working. Silence filled the room, and you could practically hear Dean’s nostrils flaring. He quickly let go of your hand and stood, making a beeline for the door.

“Dean-” Sam called after him, but he was already gone.

“Go after him,” you urged.

“No, he can handle himself. You need me,” he told you firmly.

“Sam, please, what I need right now is to know he’s ok,” you begged quietly, resting your palm on his cheek affectionately. He closed his eyes and leaned in, turning it over quickly to kiss it before standing up and leaving the room also. When the door shut behind him you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Y/N? How are you taking this news?” Sally asked gently, and you gave a weak smile in return.

“I’m not surprised,” you admitted. “The headaches are getting worse, I’m having at least 4 blood noses a day, my vision is getting blurry and I’m bumping into everything… I haven’t even told Sam and Dean half of the things going on.”

She nodded knowingly, and took a prescription pad from her drawer and started writing.

“These painkillers should help with the headaches. Unfortunately I can’t do much for the blood noses and your vision other than suggesting rest when you feel you need to.”

She reached over and handed the paper to you and you took it, and she grabbed your hand gently before you could pull it back. You squeezed it gently, not letting go.

“How long?” you asked quietly, surprised that you had yet to shed a tear. You imagined asking this question a thousand times and each time you were a sobbing mess… the calm you felt at the moment was never what you expected.

“With the speed of its growth I think 2 months is a reasonable expectation.”

“What about my memory?” you asked her with a cringe, remembering the moment Sam had to save you from down the road.

“Because of where it’s positioned you will find you have more and more periods of time you cannot remember, both short and long term. As your time draws nearer other abilities will start to go, namely your ability to walk. Once you reach this stage, it should be fairly quick,” she explained. You nodded, and retracted your hand from hers.

“You can do another cycle if you would like Y/N,” she added. “I won’t offer false hope, another round of treatment would only offer a 3% chance of success, but I’m willing to try if you want to.”

You shook your head. “I’m done. I don’t want to go out of this life pumped with that poison. I want to be able to enjoy the time I have left, however much of it there is.”

Sally smiled sadly and nodded, leaning back in her chair and sighing loudly. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I wish I could have helped you.”

“You did,” you assured her, “more than you know.”

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

“Dean!” Sam called out, running after his brother who had managed to slip out a side door and to the nearby gardens. He was pacing in front of a fountain, running his hands through his hair roughly.

“Go away Sam,” he growled. “You should be with Y/N.”

“So should you numb nuts, she needs us both.”

“I can’t be in there, not with that quack doctor putting shit into her head like how she can’t make it through another round of treatment. Hasn’t that idiot heard of the power of positive thinking, or whatever crap it is you go on about?!”

“She’s right Dean,” Sam told him, and stood his ground despite the look Dean gave him. “Y/N showed me her medical records, and if the results weren’t good this time then another round isn’t going to fix it.”

“Well we have to do something,” he snapped, kicking a nearby plant out from its roots. Sitting his hands on his hips he took a deep breath and tried to calm down, resisting the urge to punch his little brother for agreeing with the wrong side.

“We will ok? I’ve been doing some research and I think I’m close to finding her a way out of this,” Sam admitted, looking around to make sure they were alone.

“One of our ways?” Dean asked sceptically, and Sam nodded in response. “Oh sure, because those always work out for the best don’t they?”

“It has its risk yer, but it’s worth it isn’t it?”

Dean mulled it over. “Have you told Y/N about this?”

“Not yet, I thought we’d see how today went first.”

“Well, it went crap,” Dean snapped in response. “Might be time to have the talk Sammy.”

--------------------------

The drive back to your house was painfully silent, but you knew that once you were behind your closed door they would have their say. You weren’t an idiot, you’d caught Sam reading some pretty serious literature and knew what he had in mind, and were prepared to dispute any ideas they had about saving you “their” way.

You watched the trees flying past the window and thought about what you wanted for your final weeks of life. You didn’t know if you were going up or down once all was said and done, so making the most of the time you had would be your priority. You didn’t want to waste time chasing after supernatural cures when you’d already made peace with what was happening. Thanks to Sam and Dean Disneyland was scratched off your bucket list, and while there was no chance of finishing everything you wanted to do you felt the majority would be doable.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t notice Sam calling your name until your door opened and he knelt down in front of you.

“Hey, you with me?” he asked, looking at you worried. You raised your eyes to see Dean hovering looking just as concerned, and you smiled at them.

“I’m ok, sorry, got lost in thought,” you assured them. “Let go inside.”

Walking through the door of your house felt surreal, it felt like everything should be different but it all looked the same. The bowl from cereal that morning was still on the dining table from when you had to rush out for your appointment. The plant in the corner of the room was still dying despite your best efforts to get the blasted thing back. Photographs hung on the wall of you with your parents and friends; a large picture of you, Sam and Dean sat proudly on the hallway table greeting any visitors you had.

“Y/N?” Dean asked, offering his hand. You looked down blankly, reaching for it and allowing him to guide you to the couch.

“Let me get you some water,” he mumbled more to himself, and headed to the kitchen on his quest. Sam sat down on the coffee table in front of you, its legs creaking under the weight.

“I’m going to fix this,” he promised you. “Don’t worry about anything ok, what Dr Wheeler said… well, she doesn’t know the things we do.”

You looked up with a frown, and silently took the glass of water Dean handed you.

“I’ve been researching and I think I found-”

“No,” you told him blunty.

“Wh-what?” he stuttered, your comment catching him off guard. Dean leaned on the wall in the corner of the room with a frown, the same spot he stood when you told him about your tumour, with his arms crossed.

“No spells. No demons. No crossroads. Nothing.”

Sam looked at you with his jaw hanging, and scratched the back of his head. “If you’ll just let me show you-”

“I’ve seen the book Sam, I’m not a moron.”

You stood up as he stared at you incredulously. “This will save your life! We should at least talk about it.”

“No Sam,” you replied sharply, sitting your glass on the table and pointing a finger at him. “It might save my life. But I’m not willing to make the sacrifices you clearly are for something that has no guarantee.”

“Wait, hold up,” Dean interjected. “What sacrifices?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sam growled, earning a humourless laugh from yourself. You turned to Dean.

“For his genius plan to work, he would have to split off a piece of his soul.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he glared at his younger brother angrily.

“What is she talking about?” he asked, his voice dangerous.

“Oh please, it’s a tiny bit, I won’t even miss it,” he tried to brush it off. Your blood boiled, and before Dean could move a muscle you threw a punch across Sam’s jaw. He looked at you in shock, and Dean didn’t know whether he should interject or bolt.

“You’re a fucking idiot Sam Winchester. If you think there’s even the slightest chance I’d want you to take this risk for me then you don’t know me at all.”

You hadn’t shed a single tear at the news of your impending doom, but Sam singlehandedly started the waterworks. Shaking your swiftly swelling hand you bolted for your room. Dean called your name but you kept moving, not stopping until the door slammed shut behind you.

15 minutes later someone dared to knock on your door. After a decent crying session you were now sitting on your bed, looking through some old photos, and you frowned at the interruption.

“Do you REALLY think I want to see you right now Sam? Because if you do-”

“It’s Dean,” came the reply, and you bit your lip.

“Um, ok, come in I guess,” you replied quietly, and he let himself in.

“Thought you might want this,” he explained, sitting down next to you on the bed and placing an icepack on your bruised knuckles. You hissed, but took it from him with a small thank you.

“I didn’t really hear anything after I left. Did you… I mean, is Sam, you know… still breathing?”

Dean chuckled and patted your knee. “I didn’t hurt him. You got in first, I thought you’d appreciate keeping that crown for yourself. Anyway, I can’t be too mad at him for considering something I probably would have done if I’d seen it first,” he admitted.

“Et tu, brute?” you sighed, and Dean shrugged.

“Yer well, what can I say, he’s not the only one who loves you kid. Just in a veeeeery different way.”

You raised a curious eyebrow at Dean, not sure he realised what he’d just revealed about his brother, and opened your mouth to say something before he continued.

“He’s taken off in Baby, hopefully just getting some air and not a new plan.”

You nodded in silence, deciding to ask Sam about Dean’s admission later.

“What do you want?” you asked him, curious to know his thoughts.

“It’s not about what I want,” he shrugged. “Obviously I don’t want you to- you know.”

“You can say the word Dean,” you told him, taking his hand which was still on your knee. “I’m going to ‘die’. See, easy.”

“No,” he replied with a huff. “Not easy. Not by a long shot.”

You watched as his eyes became glassy, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Suddenly an idea formed.

“Tell you what,” you started, your voice wavering slightly. “I have a list of things I want to do before I go. I know it’s corny as hell but it would mean a lot to me to get them done. Well, the things I CAN anyway. Do you think you and Sam could help me with it?”

Dean looked at you with a small smile and nodded, and you rested your head on his shoulder enjoying just being with him in the moment.

“Love you,” you told him.

“I know,” he replied, kissing the top of your head.

CONT.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SERIES MASTERLIST - CHAPTER ONE - CHAPTER TWO - CHAPTER FOUR

MY MASTERLIST

Tag Lists (Open)

Series Taglist: @deghostyboi , @dreaminemz , @spence-rreid, @almostelegantfire , @ericaprice2008,  @mirandaaustin93

“Dean/Jensen” taglist:  @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk, @perpetualabsurdity, @mlovesstories

“Everything” taglist: @angelsandwinchesters, @grace-for-sale, @growningupgeek, @iamnotsaneatall, @nanie5, @waywardasfudge, @im-dead-inside05, @julzdec, @adoptdontshoppets, @meghanbeinghappy, @sleepylunarwolf , @sammysgirl1997, @imaginationisgrowth, @screechingartisancashbailiff , @flamencodiva , @salt-n-burn-em-all

People who requested tags, that I cannot tag (but will still mention because I feel bad :( ): @ronja-uebrick, @lilydarcy, @cabbagewithissues, @ruffdog921

#SPN #spn fic #spn imagine #spn reader #spn angst #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural series #Supernatural Fan Fiction #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #Sam Winchester #dean and sam #Sam and Dean Winchester #sam fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester angst #Sam Winchester Fanfic #sam x reader #sam x y/n #sam x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fan fiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #reader insert

[lesbianarcana]

could you just... like... answer all of those questions at once? I can't pick one but I wanna know all the things

Oh God okay

[[MORE]]

1. When did you start playing?

Oh a long time ago...over a  year ago I’d say? The main 3 were only up to uhhhh the Hermit book I think. I remember I stopped playing after that gross fetishy Asra CG came out.

2. What got you into the game?

The beautiful art and the tarot theme. This was before I knew what I know fdjhksd

3. Who was your first route?

Julian!

4. Who is your favourite route?

Honestly Muriel is shaping up to be my favourite so far. Before that, I loved Asra’s route.

5. Who is your least favourite?

So far, Portia’s. Don’t get me wrong - it’s nothing to do with Portia herself. It just feels a little stagnant and flat.

(I bet you expected me to say Lucio, didn’t you? Well, you’re wrong).

6. Who do you play in Heart Hunter?

Chibi Chandra!

7. Who is your favourite to chase in Heart Hunter?

Portia or Muriel!

8. Who of the not playable LIs do you wish you could romance?

The baker. Selasi route when?

9. Opinion on Asra?

Asra is often mischaracterised imo and held to an unfair standard that a lot of the other characters aren’t. I’ve seen many of these arguments and I’m tired.

Asra is not jealous, possessive, creepy, manipulative or shady. Not once does he act possessive towards the MC in any of the routes including his own (a possible exception could be made for the Reversed Ending, but what do you expect? That’s after the MC literally enables that behaviour).

Being sad or cautioning the MC against Julian is not being jealous or possessive. The way he talks about Julian it’s pretty obvious he felt more for the man than he realises, even if he doesn’t understand that himself.

Asra keeps secrets from the MC because canonically trying to remember too much too fast harms the MC. This has been established. In his route, he literally tells you that he hates keeping secrets from you. He takes you into his own personal gateway - an expression of trust and a willingness to open up to you. Does he do these things in the other routes? No, but that’s because you’re not spending that time with him.

I also see people angsting about how sad Asra is going to be when you tell him about Lucio in his route. Lucio harmed his parents and has been cruel to Asra so like idk what you expect. The MC doesn’t know this of course, but you do!

I think we also forget that Asra took a considerable amount of time and effort to rehabilitate the MC, care for them and reteach them basic tasks as well as magic.

Is Asra a perfect person? Of course not. He’s probably overly cautious, he can be a little distant and he reacts badly when in a crisis (see the deal he made with the Devil). He’s not always brave and not always strong, but why should we expect him to be? He’s a human being and he’s bound to have faults, but he has a generous nature and is remarkably well-adjusted considering the trauma of his childhood (don’t tell me that suddenly losing your parents is not traumatic).

10. Opinion on Julian?

I once said that Julian is likely hypersexual and I still maintain that. (For those of you who don’t know, being hypersexual is like..a tendency to engage in compulsive or self-harming sexual behaviour, sometimes as a result of trauma). I think Julian craves affection and associates sexual interest or sexual contact with his worth as a person. I don’t think he does it deliberately or to be manipulative, but because he has a definite self-esteem problem. I honestly see him as bipolar like me.

I think the way the fandom treats him as this dumbass uwu subby boy is kind of annoying. A lot of people I feel erase his bisexuality either by just ignoring it or by making homophobic jokes where the punchline is ‘ha ha he likes dick like you do!!!!’ like no shit, he’s BISEXUAL. But he’s also hard-working, brave, clever, pleasant and good-natured, and once he starts to really come into his own, he’s cheerful and optimistic. He has so many more good qualities than just ‘submissive and kinky’.

11. Opinion on Lucio?

This may surprise y’all but I actually don’t hate Lucio that much. I love to hate him as a villain.

I think he, like all of us, is a product of his environment. He grew up in a clan with a strong martial culture; his clan were warlike and frequently made war on his neighbours. We’re all influenced by our upbringing and I don’t think he’s an exception. I draw the line at saying he ‘just didn’t know right from wrong’ though. He’s not a baby.

But the differences between Lucio and the other LIs like Portia, Asra, Muriel etc is that Lucio’s life and his fate and the hardships he’s faced are almost entirely due to his own choices. It was he who decided on the eve of his eighteenth birthday to kill his parents. He sought out Vlagnagog with the intention of making a deal. He chose to continue to make deals. He knew he carried the plague and he chose to carry it across the continent including into Vesuvia, causing the deaths of thousands. He murdered and blackmailed his way across the continent. He wouldn’t have even needed to bargain for a new body if he hadn’t caught the plague that he brought into Vesuvia himself after making a deal etc.

Do I think he is a sort of cackling, villainous cliche or unrepentantly evil? No. I think he’s a person who has made deliberate choices that he is facing the consequences for and IMO it’s important that he face those consequences. I do think his main issue is entitlement and a profound lack of self-esteem (I don’t think he really believes any of the stuff he actually says about himself or other people; even Lucio’s not delusional).

I mean that’s about as generous and objective a take on Lucio as I can give you. I’ve made my feelings clear on him, but I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t actually understand him as a character, hopefully the above will prove I do haha.

12. Opinion on Muriel?

Out of all the LIs I think I relate most strongly to Muriel because of a few reasons: trauma, touch-starved, lonely and wants to connect but afraid of getting hurt (physically or emotionally).

Now that I’ve gotten personal, I really hate the way Muriel is treated by the fandom. He’s either called bland or boring, or he’s treated like he’s an animal, called feral and animalistic. He’s none of those things.

Muriel has a big complex about being alone. He was literally given away by his parents and left in Vesuvia on his own, to fend for himself on the streets. Being abandoned by his parents and not knowing why, not remembering is traumatic enough, but because of his size he’s often characterised as aggressive and strong when he’s always been gentle. Later in his life, Muriel was forced to fight and kill people against his will. I don’t think a lot of people get just how traumatic that is; not only being forced into doing Lucio’s bidding, but being forced to violently take someone’s life. I don’t blame him for leaving to live at his hut and resist connecting to anyone. It’s common for traumatized people to withdraw and isolate themselves, because the thought of getting hurt again is more frightening than being alone. But everyone needs human contact, and I think Muriel struggles a lot between wanting connection and contact (physical or emotional), between not wanting to get hurt again, to not feeling like he’s worth the effort. That struggle is something very close to my heart and that’s why I’m attached to him.

13. Opinion on Nadia?

Nadia has the biggest youngest sister complex and it’s almost amusing because I, too, have the same complex (even though I’m actually the older sibling!). Nadia, like me, feels like she’s always been compared unfavourably to her older sisters, and has felt like she has to work harder to prove she’s their equal.

It’s probably because she’s a Cancer like me. We have dual natures sometimes; the caretaker and the ringleader, who feel like we have to take it all on ourselves to get the job properly done, but who have moments where our self-doubt takes over.

I do find some aspects of Nadia’s route to be sort of odd, where it’s mentioned that the people of Vesuvia find her to be a tyrant. There’s literally no evidence to suggest that, so the only reasoning I can find next is she’s a woc. But race doesn’t matter in Vesuvia apparently so...what else could be the reason? Not to mention she’s been asleep for the past three years, so the people haven’t even seen the Countess in that time.

I feel like we didn’t really get to understand a lot about Nadia even from her route-why did she fall asleep? What on Earth did she see in Lucio? Why did she let him do all those bad things in Vesuvia before he died? (My initial thought was Cancers can be sloth-like and passive, so that could be why).

14. Opinion on Portia?

Of all the LIs I feel like it’s Portia I know the least about despite having probably the most appearances. Sure, she’s quirky and fun and cheerful, and that’s cute, but...what does she want? What does she fear? How does she feel about her brother being on trial?

I’m hoping we get to expand more of her personality in her route. I know her patron Arcana is the Star, so her route will likely be about learning to have faith in other people, but who knows.

15. What is your favourite Arcana card?

Justice. The Empress is a close runner-up.

16. Have you bought any of the official merch?

No, I refuse to give a single cent to Nix Hydra. (I really want those Tarot cards though hhh)

17. What is your favourite CG?

The one where Asra is sitting in the gondola. Squishy cheeks :3c

18. How many Arcana themed blogs do you have?

Three! This one, then I run an Ask Muriel blog at @ask-muriel-inanna and an Ask Asra blog at @ask-asra-and-faust

19. Do you draw any Arcana art? What is your favourite image you have drawn?

The cover I just did for my Arcana comic! I cant link but it's in #arcana comic and #my art

20. Self insert or apprentice insert?

Both are valid, but I have an apprentice OC.

21. Do you have an apprentice?

Yes I do! Their name is Daya

22. If there is one thing that could be made with the Arcana theme on it, what would it be and why?

Idk what this means I big dumb

23. What is your favourite ship?

Outside of the LI x MC ships I really do like Asriel and Portia/Nadia (but only if Portia isn’t her servant anymore).

24. What is your least favourite ship?

Muriel x Lucio, Asra x Lucio or Julian x Lucio. None of them would even consider ever touching Lucio with a ten foot pole and y’all know this.

25. On your first play through, what direction was your ending for the LIs?

Upright babey!!!!!

#the arcana game #anonymous #asks

[joshy-tomato]

Inverted Fate

Chapter One: The door to the new adventure.

AO3

Sumary: After the fall of their homeworld, Riku ventures through different worlds looking for the friends he lost, Kairi tries to mend her mistakes without falling into darkness in the process. Sora just want them to stop fighting.He was falling… no, was sinking down.

 The water plunge him, but he didn't feel fear or panic, just let himself be pull.

From one moment to another he wasn't falling anymore, he was standing in front the sea. The sun briged so harsh that he had to cover himself with his forearm. While his eyes adjusted to the light he got to see a silhouette in the water, a redhead girl with her back to him. He tried to chase her, but stopped in middle of the first step. She turned to him, a big wave forming behind her. Held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. Smiled calmly at him, her eyes reflecting everything but calm. The wave was getting closer and closer to them. Without think he run after her, fearing that the wave would take her away.

The wave hit, and now he was floating in the water. The girl was there too, with her hand extended to him and this time he tried to take it, but a strong tide take him away from her and back to the surface.

He didn't have time to process what just happened when he saw someone else in the shore of the beach. A brunet boy calling him and trying to attract his attention by moving exigerately. He hurried to him and when he did, the boy simply laughed playfully, crossing his arms behind his head.

He was about to accompany him, but he soon realized that now the blue eyes of the other boy reflected confusion, looking up the sky. He looked up too and what he saw was ... himself falling.

No, actually he was falling, there was no land beneath him.

He fell faster and faster, but when he was supposed to collide with the ground he simply was swallowed by it. The bluish-eyed boy tried to stop his fall and take his hand, but was worthless.

He was falling… no, was sinking down.

The water dragged him down, but he didn't feel fear or panic, just let himself be pull. 

A boy was lying in the shore of the beach, sleeping peacefully like there was nothing to worry about. And talking about a place like Destiny Islands, probably was right. Nothing bad or interesting happens ever in Destiny Island. For any tourist, a paradisiacal paradise to relax. For all the islanders, just boring routine.

The child began to awake slowly, trying to order his thoughts to know exactly where and when he was. Sooner than later he gave up on it and decided it was better just keep sleeping, or at least that's what he would have done if not were for the mop of red hair that thrown over him. He got up startled, while the red-haired girl only laughed at his misery.

“Gimme a break Kairi” He complained even though he also laughed a little.

“Sora, you lazy bum I knew that I'de find you snoozing down here” She scoffed.

“I had a really strange dream, everything was dark and I couldn't move. It felt so real, I even don't know if actually was just a dream. Was really bizarre”

“Mmh… I think you just still asleep”

While they two were talking a third boy walk to them, carrying piece of wood.

“Hey, you two, the break is over” declared the silver-haired boy, with a playful smile on his face “I guess I'm the only one working on the raft” He walked towards Kairi, taking advantage of casually throwing the piece of wood over an unsuspecting Sora.

“And you're just as lazy as he is” He pointed accusingly at Kairi and she could not do anything but laugh.

“Ok, as you say Riku. We'll finished it together. I'll race you.” Kairi declared and the other two boys looked at her with disbelief, but they didn't seem to oppose the challenge.

“Ready? Go!”

 He and Riku where friends since the beginning, didn't even remember when they started being friends. The knew each other all life.

Kairi entered their lives a few years later, although they were still only small childrens.

The first day, Sora wanted befriend her to had another friend at the list, Riku in exchange wanted know more about the girl from the outside world, a subject that obsessed him since early age. Between the three the connection was instantaneous. Before they knew it, Kairi had joined their pranks and they didn't complain about it. Since that they three did everything together. From the homework to their most recent and greatest crazy idea, a raft to explore other worlds.

Riku was the one with the idea, Kairi was totally on it while Sora just followed  them up.

Wasn't that he didn't want know other worlds, of course not, the idea of new places to explore and new adventures waiting for him was something that really called his attention. But compared with Riku and Kairi his desires to know other worlds were nothing. Riku wanted know others worlds since really early age, from before Kairi arrive. His childish wish of an adventure become in a passion to know what was beyond the ocean, passing the horizons. Destiny Island became too small for his big ambitions. With Kairi was something more personal. Even if she loved her adoptive parents and her new life in Destiny Islands, the uncertainty about her origins was something that tormented her more than she wanted to show. What happened to her home? What happened to her biological family? How she end up in Destiny Islands? She longed for the answer to these questions and would not rest until found them.

And Sora? He just wanted to stay with his beloved friends.

“So, can you gather the rest of the supplies?... Sora, are you listening to me?”

 “So, Kairi, what was your hometown like? You know, where you grew up” Asked Sora, while the tree where sit in the Poupou Three, looking at the sunset.

“I told you before, I don't remember." Kairi replied as she stared at the horizon.

"Nothing"

"Nothing at all”

“But you would like to know, isn't Kairi?” Was Riku's turn to ask now.

“Yes, I mean, I'm happy here but I wouldn't mind to see it”

“The raft could really take us there, to Kairi's world?” question Sora again, looking at Riku inquisitively.

“Who know? If we had to, we'll think of something else?” 

“So, suppose you get to another world” Started Kairi “What you would do there?”

“I haven't really through about it. I always felt that there is something bigger waiting for me, outside in other worlds. So, just let fate decide what will become of us.” Riku laughed softly Just suppose there are other worlds... Then ours is just a little piece of something much greater. So we could've just as easily ended up somewhere else, right?

“I don't know.” replied Sora, snuggling leisurely in the tree.

“Exactly. That's why we need to go out there and find out.” started Riku, while he walk to the shore “Just sitting here won't change a thing. It's the same old stuff. So let's go.”

“You've been thinking a lot lately, haven't you?”

“Thanks to you. If you hadn't come here, I probably would've never thought of any of this. Kairi, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

 “Deal?, the winner gets to share a papou with Kairi.”

The paopu fruit, an iconic fruit with a star shape. The legend say that if two person share it  their destinies become intertwined.

Was something romantic, he supposed. Never understood why people get so excited about that, for him was just that, a legend.

But he knew Kairi and Sora were interested in that. They couldn't be more obvious even if they tried, they liked each other. It was only a matter of waiting and seeing which one took the first step. And Riku thought that neither of them would do it unless he gave them a push. He already teased Sora with that yesterday afternoon. With a little luck, Sora would realize that he had to act on his feelings about Kairi before anyone got ahead. Even if he had to antagonize himself for it.

He did it so they would be happy, that was all that mattered to him.

Then… why it hurt so much?

“Because they are leaving you behind. Once they have each other will not need you anymore.”

“Wha… wait a minute...”  Sora sounded confused, and probably was.

“Okay, on my count” announced Kairi, totally unaware of the conversation between the two boys. “3… 2… 1!”

“So you'll just let your Light go away from you.”

The voice inside his head sounded again, causing him be delayed in the race and giving Sora an advantage he could no longer overcome.

As expected, he couldn't reach Sora, making him the winner of this race.

Sora was already celebrating this. Riku knew that he had been wanting beat him for a while, so Sora was probably very proud of this victory. A part of him wanted burst Sora's bubble and tell him it hadn't been a big deal but the other look at the boy, so radiantly cheerful for something so insignificant and then decided that he didn't have the heart to do that.

“I think I underestimated you Sora. You win, choose you the name of the raft.” The smile on Sora's face when he heard these words heated Riku´s heart and all the insecurities that the voice had put in his head stopped making sense.

After the race, Kairi and Sora went to look for more provision while he stayed in the same place, looking at the ocean and clearing his mind. A few minutes later he heard a steps behind him.

“Hey Riku, about the paopu. I know that you were just kidding”

And for some reason, Sora's words make him happy. Selfishly happy.

 The last place where he looks was The Secret Place. He check over the place until he found what he was looking for, a mushroom.

He went where the mushroom was and once there he saw on the near wall some old drawings carved in stone. He remembered having drawn that long ago, when he recently befriend Kairi and she was too shy for the games that he and Riku played. So he brought her here to draw and hang out.

Riku's words sound inside his head again.

The Paopu fruit. Share it with Kairi. Connect his soul to hers.

He would be lying if he said that he didn't like how that sounded. But at the same time… Yes, he wanted be with Kairi for eternity, but that would only be worth it if Riku was there too.

He didn't care what destiny was planning for him or where fate wanted him to go.

“Please, let me be with them. Don't take us apart”

Lately, more than ever he felt that he have to protect the bond between the tree of them. Something was happening, or was about to happen. And he was afraid. Something inside his two friends was scaring him, but he didn't knew what was that.   

He take a rock and started to carve in the wall. The mushroom could wait.

While he was doing it he remembered an old promise. The face of the woman that made him promise it faded over time, but the importance of the oath survived. Stay with Riku and keep him safe. Don't let him go through the dark path. Now that the greatest adventure of their lives was about to begin was important remember that promise.

And then he felt sick. He felt dizzy and with great pressure in his chest.

Someone was behind him.

“Wh- Who is there?” He asked while stand up, trying to maintain balance.

“I’ve come to see the door to this world.” A hooded figure came out of the shadows. Their voice was slow, deep and mysterious, giving them an even more intimidating presence.“This world has been connected.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

“Tied to the darkness... Soon to be completely eclipsed.” Declared the hooded. The feeling of uneasiness and alertness in Sora increased more and more. Something about this dude felt… wrong.

“Well, whoever you are, stop freaking me out like this.” Sora tried to sound threatening, fearless, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him at the last moment. ”Wh-Where did you come from?”

“You do not yet know what lies beyond the door.”

Beyond the door? Inside Sora's head that only could mean one thing. “So, you’re from another world!”

“There is so very much to learn. You understand so little.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’ll see. I’m gonna get out and learn what’s out there!” exclaimed Sora with defiance, but the hooded did not flinch.

“A meaningless effort. One who knows nothing can understand nothing.”

Sora was ready to respond, but the had figure already left, as if them just vanished into thin air.

Seeing that he would not get anything by staying here, he decided to leave too.

Maybe was just a weirdo.

#KH #kingdom hearts #sorikai #roleswap au #/Inverted fate #kh fanfic #my fanfic