#and again yeah. it involves piss. a recurring theme!

[alivegirlmari]

rose’s misty piss motif analysis post. shauna voice. hmm can’t really argue with that actually!

[crossdressingdeath]

I genuinely do believe that Karlach is the earliest sign of Larian's "pander to the fans no matter how much damage it does to the story" mentality. Like, I love her as a character! But she wasn't designed to be an origin companion, and looking at her quest you can see they didn't actually know what to do with her when they upgraded her importance. From what I understand she was originally an escapee from Zariel's army that Wyll was tasked to track down, and that was it! That was all that was necessary! No engine for a heart, no connection to Gortash, she was a one-off quest character who didn't need a deeper story and she was a strong character for what she needed to be. And Larian could've gotten away with making her a recurring NPC or even act 2/3 companion with that characterization, but to please the fans they made her an origin companion... which meant suddenly she needed a more complex story and a personal quest and an arc tied into the main plot, and they botched that so hard because she wasn't designed with that in mind. Her personal quest is a) a fetch quest and then b) tied so tightly to the main plot that you can't even properly complete it unless you do the main story in a specific way. If you ally with Gortash and he's killed by the brain Karlach's quest never properly completes! You never get the conversation with her where she gets pissed about how it didn't change anything because she's still going to die and she wants to live! That is bullshit! Although honestly she should probably leave you entirely if you ally with Gortash, by tying her personal arc so closely to her hatred of him they've created a situation where it feels absolutely bizarre that she sticks around if you do that. Especially playing Durge; you're telling me she learns the group's leader was Gortash's best friend and then they choose to ally with him and she yells at them for two seconds and then is fine with it? That's... stupid. It's stupid. If you're not going to let her quest complete if the players ally with Gortash then at least give an actual reason for that. Also, her backstory doesn't make any sense; why would Gortash go to all that trouble to keep her in the dark about what he was doing? Why would he care? Why would Zariel care enough for Karlach to apparently be her special favourite (but apparently not enough to make more than a halfhearted effort to go after her; seriously, she gives up completely after two attempts and only really comes up again outside of backstory discussion when Karlach insists she'll be after her again if she returns to Avernus as a reason for choosing death over going back even temporarily)? Why would an archdevil care enough to make a deal with the scales weighted so heavily against her for one random teenager? It's actually significantly weakened the emotional impact of the whole thing for me, I keep going down the rabbit hole of how little fucking sense this makes and it drags me out of the story.

...This has gotten away from me slightly. Basically Karlach's story as an origin companion makes it clear that they didn't actually have a plan for making her so important. They just rehashed Gale's exploding chest bomb thing in a much less plot-relevant way and leashed the whole thing to a villain who already had strong ties to an origin companion instead of giving her her own damn villain like all the other origin companions. She barely even has a quest, and certainly not one with a satisfying arc and interesting moral questions involved in it like everyone else got. She was much stronger as a less important character, because as a less important character she didn't need a detailed backstory or personal quest so the question of whether those things made sense or were good was a moot point. And looking at it in hindsight... yeah, that fits very neatly into the running theme of Larian making the story worse to pander to the fans.

[cosmicjoke]

Alright, up through chapters 111 and 112 of SnK!

First, I just have to say a few things about Eren here and what a massive dick he was to Armin and Mikasa.  It’s hard as hell not to be pissed at Eren here, even knowing that he was trying to push his two best friends away in an attempt to keep them out of harm, and part of that is because, given what Eren later confesses to Armin, about not knowing what he was doing during this scene, I don’t think the way he treats them here IS entirely to protect them.  Armin says after the whole confrontation that Eren’s the one who’s a slave, specifically he says “You’re a slave too, and your master’s a worthless bastard.”  Eren has the gall to get offended by this, after he just spent the last however many minutes telling Armin and Mikasa both that they’re pathetic slaves with no will of their own.  But the important part here is what Armin says.  He’s referring, I think, to all of Eren’s worst traits as a human being.  He’s telling Eren that he’s let himself become a slave to the worst parts of his personality, the parts that want to hurt others, that finds gratification in hurting others.  That he’s letting himself be dictated by those ugliest, cruelest parts of himself.  I think part of Eren’s tirade against Armin and Mikasa was based very much in his honest feelings, those feelings of anger and hatred towards his best friends being born out of his own insecurity about himself.  He tells Armin that his constant attempts to “talk” are pathetic and worthless, and that Mikasa is only strong because of experiments conducted on the Ackerman bloodline.  Essentially, Eren is trying his very best here to strip away both Armin’s and Mikasa’s own merit, and cast their strengths and abilities in a negative light, treating those strengths as either weaknesses or as something unearned, some sort of freak accident of birth.  Eren goes particularly hard after Mikasa, trying to make her exceptional abilities seem somehow lesser or unimpressive because they’re only a byproduct of experiments done to other Ackerman’s over the centuries.  This smacks terribly to me of Eren taking out his own physical shortcomings on Mikasa and Armin both, blaming them for his own weakness.  Eren taunts Armin later while he beats the hell out of him, telling him they’ve never fought because it never would have been a “fair fight”, as if Eren himself was ever any kind of exceptional fighter.  It’s made a point of again and again early in the series that Eren isn’t particularly special or gifted in anything he does.  He isn’t a good fighter, he isn’t especially smart, he isn’t especially skilled.  But here we have him flaunting himself over Armin, as if Eren was ever some sort of uber bad-ass fighter who could destroy any opponent with ease.  It really does just come across as crippling insecurity on Eren’s part, on him acting out his self-loathing and insecurity in himself on his friends.  It’s really one of Eren’s lowest moments in the whole series, and especially because it doesn’t particularly feel like he doesn’t entirely mean it.  I think he does, to some extent.  

Anyway, okay, I also want to talk a little about Levi and how he reacts to the news of the Yagerists taking over the military, and Zeke’s involvement.  

What really strikes me here is Levi’s reaction to Pixis’ and the MPs plan to feed Eren to someone else, to give them the Founder.  Levi says to hell with that plan, and it’s really interesting to me, because this shows two things about Levi and how he regards Eren at this point.  It isn’t that he feels betrayed by Eren that Levi has his internal monologue about all his comrades dying in the line of duty while protecting Eren, it’s because he’s thinking about how all of those people died to protect Eren, only for the military to then turn around and render all of those sacrifices utterly meaningless by deciding to just feed Eren to whoever they choose.  A recurring and vital theme for Levi’s character throughout SnK is that he can’t abide meaningless death.  The thought of anyone dying or suffering in any way without reason, for Levi, is one of the worst things that can happen.  Pointless, meaningless death is a travesty to him.  And by deciding to just kill Eren then and there, to feed him to someone else, the military is basically shitting all over the deaths and sacrifices of an innumerable amount of Levi’s friends and comrades, essentially declaring those sacrifices null and void and pointless.  All these people will have died, it turns out, for nothing.  That’s why Levi calls the current situation they’re in a “farce”, because it’s made a joke out of all those lives lost.  And it’s why Levi won’t stand for it.  He refuses to let it happen, instead deciding it’s Zeke who should be fed to someone.  It must be more galling to Levi than just about anything, that these MPs, who never lifted a finger or sacrificed anything in order to fight for humanity’s survival have now taken it upon themselves to decide that all that effort, all those lives lost, all those morals compromised, all that blood gotten on the hands of the SC members for the betterment of humanity, meant nothing and was never necessary, that they’ll just kill Eren without any input or say from those people that sacrificed so much to keep Eren alive all this time.  And it’s not just the lives lost, like Mike’s, or Nanaba’s, or Nifa’s, or Erwin’s, or any of the other hundreds of SC’s members that died while protecting Eren, but also people like Jean and Armin having to get blood on their hands, going against their moral codes and now living with the burden of having taken lives, or Dimo Reeves essentially giving his life to protect Eren and Historia.  There’s any number of smaller sacrifices, on top of the lives lost, they’ve all made in order to protect Eren, because they all believed him to be essential to humanity’s future, that he was one of them, and could be relied on and believed in to always hold true to the ideals of the SC, to fight for humanity’s salvation.    The military’s decision to just kill Eren throws that belief back in the faces of the SC.  

I think, also, it’s interesting, because Levi’s still holding here to the possibility that Eren hasn’t betrayed them all.  He’s still showing that he believes in Eren, even as that belief is being strained and tested by everything that’s happening.  That Levi doesn’t just immediately wash his hands of Eren here, and say “Yeah, kill him.”, shows also that he still WANTS to believe in Eren, that all the hopes they put in him weren’t unfounded or for naught.  Even as he acknowledges that he doesn’t know if Eren is being controlled by Zeke or not, he still wants to give him the benefit of the doubt.  It shows that he still cares about Eren as a comrade and a friend.  He holds no such ties to Zeke, who’s done nothing but cause him pain and misery, and so Levi’s solution here makes sense.  Feed Zeke to one of the Yaegerists, then, after Historia gives birth, if she’s still willing, let her consume the Beast Titan.  Levi’s trying here to avoid killing Eren, both because he can’t bear the thought that all those people died for nothing, and also because he still feels loyalty and friendship towards Eren, which speaks to the depth of Levi’s dedication as a friend, honestly.  

Also, we get to see Levi’s suspicion of Zeke’s story about how and why he turned the people of Ragako into Titan’s validated, when it’s revealed that he lied about his spinal fluid, if consumed by Eldian’s, freezing them up.  The guy really is just a straight up liar.  And that particular deception of Zeke’s is what leads to the tragedy of what happens next, turning Levi’s comrades into Titans.  Like I said in my previous post, I think Levi was trying to genuinely glean if Zeke really was as heartless and uncaring as he appeared, trying to understand if there was some understandable reason behind his actions, and that he came the conclusion from reading Zeke’s tone, words and body language (just like Erwin says about Levi’s ability to see the true nature of man), that there isn’t any real humanity in Zeke at all.  And of course, what Zeke does here only proves that beyond any sort of doubt.  

Levi’s declaration here that he isn’t going to let Zeke dictate things any longer is Levi being fed up with these mind games and manipulations.  He’s known all this time that Zeke has been stringing them along, lying to them, using them, all with some ulterior motive and plan in waiting, even as he couldn’t know the details of those things, and Levi knows if he waits any longer to take Zeke out, things are going to reach a point of no return.  Levi’s instincts here are right, and have been from the start, but because he was beholden to the chain of command, he couldn’t act.  It’s the pussyfooting around that the military’s done up to this point, their indecision and fear, to trust Zeke, but also to have the balls to move against Zeke completely, that’s lead to things getting so out of hand.  Tragically, Levi’s decision here comes too late.  But man, he was ready to take matters into his own hands finally.  Someone should’ve listened to him sooner about Zeke.  They should’ve just killed his ass the second they had him on the island.

[libsterslobsters]

The Wanton Song

Summary: How do you broach the topic of sex with the 90-something super soldier you've found yourself dating? That's the reader's question. Luckily, she and Bucky are no strangers to awkward conversations...

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader

(Reader can see bits and pieces of the future in visions and understands all languages)

Warnings: SMUT, tiny bit of angst, lotsa fluff, maybe some past dub!con if you squint

Author's note: Wow... here I am posting smut on the internet. Never thought that would happen. Tmi, but I'm married, so I have a good amount of sex 🙀 and I actually had a great first time, but some people don't, and that's what I tried to represent. That, and CONSENT!!!! Consent is sexy, y'all. Safe, sane and consensual all day every day.

As always, the reader's name isn't stated so that you can read as a self insert, but I've written so much at this point that I refer to the Reader as Violet in my own mind.

*************************************************

 Life has been going swimmingly these past few months. Better than ever before in fact, or at the very least, better than in a long time. She’s still a fugitive, living life looking over her shoulder, but now she has a steady job, a steady paycheck, and oh yeah, a steady boyfriend. Those three things have never aligned for her before (especially the last one). Overall, she’s pretty happy. But, because she’s her, there’s still a question niggling at the back of her mind.

 The transition from “you’re my only friend” to “we’re together now” went smoothly, helped in part by the fact that Barnes had been at that particular juncture the whole time. From the outside looking in, the only major changes have been the addition of those three simple but very key words and an upping the anti in the cuddles department.

 Speaking of cuddles, that’s a very mild term for what’s going on these days. It starts out innocent enough. The usual location is on the couch at one or the other’s apartment. There hadn’t been much distance between them since that first time where they ended up talking more than watching the movie playing from her laptop, but now, the space is nonexistent. As a general rule, within the first ten minutes, her legs somehow end up over his lap or in some way intertwined with is. The intention is always to pay attention to what’s on the screen but, well, when you’re that close, it would be rude not to snuggle up. And, when the other person looks that damn kissable, it would truly be insulting not to take the plunge.

 Now, considering the angle, one of them has to lean in. Otherwise, it would be awkward. That generally determines who, somewhere from two to ten minutes later, is on top of who. Of course hands wander, and even though it’s understood that the word “no” can be employed at any time and immediately obeyed (not to mention the copious amounts of “Is this okay”’s being asked), she can’t remember a time either of them have said it.

 If she had to attach a term to what comes next, it would be ‘dry humping.’ And then… nothing. It always ends far too soon, leaving her flustered and with her heart racing. At first she thought it was because he simply didn’t want her, but, well, there’s certain physical signs that point to that not being the problem. Her next guess was that he’s simply being respectful. Well, as sweet as that is, she’s ready to get on with it. She’s only human after all, and as such, has needs. Sure, she could take care of them herself, but if she had to guess, he’s experiencing those needs too, and from what she’s heard, it’s more fun to take care of it together.

 The only issue: how the hell do you bring something like this up, especially when the person you’re bringing it up with grew up in a much more repressed era than you did? She’s been debating it for the past week, and despite having multiple visions, none of them have given her that key insight into what to do.

 Finally, she decides to just say it. They’ve made a point to be honest with each other, and it’s probably best to get it out of the way. They’re adults, after all. They can have this discussion. She’s going to come straight out with it.

 “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s kind of personal, and maybe a little uncomfortable.”

 “Sure, Doll.” The response is immediate. “Fire away.”

 Glancing up to make sure they’re not at a pivotal scene in tonight’s movie (they have a system; at his place, watch something he grew up with, at hers, something made literally anytime after 1945), she spits out the whole sentence in one breathless go. “Are we ever going to have sex?”

 It feels like a branding iron where his arm is still wrapped around her shoulder. Still, it’s comforting. At least he’s not moving away.

 “I gotta admit, that’s not the question I was expecting. What brought this on?”

 She shrugs, carefully keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind his head instead of on him.

 “Nothing in particular. Just…” is there a delicate way to put this? “...I think things are going well between us, and sometimes when we’re together… I’ve noticed that there’s a physical response.” She’s really hoping that’ll suffice, because she can’t think of a good way to say “I can feel that you’re hard when you’re on top of me”.

 “Oh.”

 Apparently, her meaning is indeed clear enough, because he removes his arm from her shoulders. She’s about to apologize (all the while mentally berating herself) when his hand closes over hers.

 “I’m sorry about that, Doll. I’ll try to stay calmer.” Wait, that’s not- “It’s just an issue guys have. Don’t think it means you have to do anything that you don’t want to, because I would never-”

 “I know you wouldn’t.” Without thinking, she cuts him off. “And I want to.” It feels like she’s sitting in a sauna, she’s so flustered from this conversation. “But only if you do, and I understand if you didn’t-”

 “No.” It’s abrupt, cutting her off. A definite answer that leaves no room for questioning. “No, I do. I just-” He clears his throat. “-I didn’t want to bring it up, in case we weren’t on the same page. “ This seems to be a recurring theme, so far. “And it’s not a must. If you change your mind-”

 It’s pure instinct. There’s no thought involved as she closes the gap between them, this time with her on top, and presses  her lips against his. The response is immediate and enthusiastic. She considers just going on, not putting a stop to things, but realization hits that, although overall she’s ready for this to happen, she’s not ready for it to happen tonight. There’s still things she needs to take care of. Most importantly, protection.

 So, gasping for breath, she pulls away. “I’m calling for a rain check, but if after that, you still think I’ll change my mind-” she pushes back her hair and forces herself to take a deep breath. “-then you may just be beyond help, Barnes.” If the chuckle is anything to judge from, she’s made her point.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 Wow. Bucky thinks to himself as he exits out of the browser tab on his phone. That’s enough internet for one day. Too much, actually. He knows that it’s the information superhighway, but good god, no one needs THAT much information. He really needs to be more specific with what he googles… or less… or just not at all.

 He’d never admit it (and really, who the hell is gonna ask him anyway), but he spent the last hour looking up how to have sex. He’s engaged in the act before, yeah, but it was seventy years ago. Plus, it used to be this huge taboo thing that you suspected was going on behind closed doors, but no one (not even the married couples) owned up to it. If you were ever found out, there were severe consequences. As a man, he didn’t have to worry as much, but if whoever the woman was had her dirty laundry aired… oh boy. She’d be a pariah, a “scarlet woman”, unfit for marriage or to even give the time of day. That led to limited encounters, and, well, it just seemed smart to brush up on what information is out there. As it turns out, people have written a lot about the fine art of love making. Unfortunately for him, most of it is absolute garbage. Some of the positions he just read about (because at that point, the article was like a train wreck; he badly wanted to look away, but he couldn’t) don’t even sound possible, much less pleasurable. He’s all for society being freer, but good grief!

 He’s halfway through a bottle of straight vodka (it won’t have any effect, but he’s hoping maybe the alcohol will travel to his brain and sanitize his eyeballs from most of the shit he just read) when his phone rings. Great. He’s always happy to talk to her, but right now… wow. It’s gonna take him some time to recover, so he hopes she doesn’t need him to say much.

 “Hey, Doll.”

 “I am so fucking pissed off right now.” That sounds promising.

 “At what?”

 “The city of Bucharest, my apartment, the landlord, whoever the fuck did the plumbing in this building! God!” She’s clearly out of breath, so it takes a minute before she can speak again. “I’m sorry, Buck. It’s just that I came home from work, and one of my neighbors told me the entire sixth floor is under a good inch, inch and a half of water.” Wait-

 “How-”

 “I don’t know. Busted pipe. It’s leaked down onto the fifth floor, so I’ve got about fifty other pissed off people for company.”

 “Jesus.” 

 She chuckles harshly. “Yeah, we could use him right about now to perform a miracle. This is a shit show, and I haven’t even told you the best part.”

 “So the spontaneous flood wasn’t the highlight of your day?”

 “I fucking wish! So, naturally, I tried to call the landlord, along with basically everyone else. Get this: since it’s after five o’clock on a Friday, he’s not gonna do anything. Told us collectively to suck it up! And of course, when there’s a leak, they have to cut the power…” He’s starting to see a pattern here.

 She sighs. “I really needed to get that off my chest. How are you?” Still slightly weirded out by the information overload, but feeling a little more steady now that he’s got a good catastrophe to concentrate on. However, that’s probably not the best answer to go with.

 “Better than you are.”

 “What, the sky isn’t falling where you are?” He chuckles.

 “No, it’s right where it’s supposed to be.”  Which reminds him… “But since it seems like you’re short a functional home, why don’t you just stay here until they sort things out?” He’s got a couch that, while it doesn’t have anything on an actual bed, he can manage to sleep on for the next few nights. Or maybe they can share his bed. He shakes his head. That thought needs to be put to the side, even if it’s meant in the most innocent way possible. Of course, in case she decides to cash in that rain check…

 “Yes. I mean, that would be great, if you’re sure.”

 “I’m sure.” Actually, he can’t think of a better way to spend the weekend. The plan was to meet up either Saturday or Sunday, possibly both, so this isn’t that far out of the ordinary.

 “Okay, but just a warning: They’re not letting us go up to our floor in case there’s been electrical damage as well-” That’s smart. If the pipes are in that bad of condition, who knows what the wiring looks like. “-so all I have is my purse, backpack, and what I wore to work. No toothbrush or pajamas, or anything like that.”

 “That’s alright. All you have to bring is yourself.” He’ll have to look, but he’s pretty sure he has something in his closet that’ll work okay for her until she gets the all clear to go into her apartment. Plus, there’s a laundry mat just around the corner, not to mention a pharmacy.

 “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

 “Not a problem.” He glances at his bedside clock. Five thirty-four. It takes roughly half an hour to get across the city by bus, so… “I’ll see you around six fifteen?”

 “See you then.”

 As soon as the line goes dead, he springs into action. First thing’s first: make sure there’s no dirty clothes, old dishes, or trash laying around. That takes all of five minutes. He should probably check that he does indeed have something she can wear so they won’t have to fumble around later. Tshirts are pretty universal and… yes, he has a few pajama bottoms that have a drawstring waist. How much time does he have left? The phone screen lights up, giving him his answer. Twenty-seven minutes. More than enough time to run around the corner and pick up a few things.

 His intention is to buy the basics: spare toothbrush, deodorant, hairbrush, maybe a different shampoo than his three-in-one body wash (it’s convenient for him, but she might prefer something designated for hair specifically). But, well, there’s quite a few aisles, and he gets sucked in. Does he need to buy razors, or is that rude, like he thinks she’s hairy? What about aspirin? How often do most people get headaches? He honestly can’t remember. 

 By the time he realizes that he really needs to get a move on, his basket is full and he has no idea what aisle he’s on. Desperately, he looks around, and his eyes land on… huh. So they just have them out in the open these days. Last time he was in the market for that, he had to beg a married friend to make the purchase for him. He briefly wonders if he’ll need to produce proof of marriage or something similar, but pushes the thought to the side. It’s the 2000s. He can probably just go up to the register and pay, and no one will give him a second look. But there’s just one problem: which brand? He should google… suddenly remembering his adventure from earlier today, he decides to just go with his gut and pick one. There. Now, he needs to pay and get the fuck out of here because there’s only ten minutes left, and he’d rather not have these out in the open, in case she thinks that’s the reason he’s asked her to stay over. If it happens, great. If not… well, he’s made it for the past seventy years. What’s a few more?

___________________________________________________________________________________

 She was still pretty shaken up when she arrived at his apartment, carrying her backpack and purse, slightly damp from the drizzle of rain now covering the city. But immediately receiving a long hug, being instructed to make herself at home, and hearing the offer to take a shower so she could warm up did a lot to restore her good mood.

 It was one of the sweetest thing she’s ever experienced in a lifetime where most people have showed her their worst, going into that bathroom and finding a new toothbrush, stick of deodorant, nail clippers, hairbrush, and even shampoo. That and Barnes bashfully informing her that, “I’ll stay in the living room until you’re done. Take your time.” She almost suggested that he just join her in an attempt to broach the subject they left off on two nights ago, but thought better of it. She’s just started to strip when a knock comes from the other side of the wall.

 “Sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to give you a change of clothes. Can I leave them outside the door?” A smile forms on her face.  

 “Sure. Go ahead.” No one’s given this much thought to her comfort or boundaries before. Yet another reason she knows this is the right decision.

 She doesn’t stay in the shower for long, just enough time to wash and stop shivering. After toweling off and brushing out her hair, she cracks open the door. Sure enough, a worn but clean tshirt and pair of pajama bottoms are waiting for her. The familiar scent of the laundry detergent he uses envelopes her as she dresses and, at long last, leaves the safety of the bathroom.

 True to his word, he’s still sitting on the couch, thumbing through a book she gave him some months back (he’s missed so many feats of literature that have made their way into pop culture; today’s choice is The Hobbit because, while it was out before everything happened to him, he’s never read it) when she emerges. Just in case he’s so absorbed that he hasn’t heard her, she repeats his gesture from earlier and knocks softly on the wall.

 “Hey. I’m out. You can have your apartment back.”

 “Hey.” That smile always makes her feel slightly unsteady on her feet. “Find everything okay?”

 “I did.” She settles into the place next to him. “Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to go out and get supplies.”

 “I know.” He nods, hand closing around hers. “But I wanted to make sure you had whatever you needed.”

 They chat for a while about their days, discuss what they should do with the weekend ahead, even throw out ideas for dinner. The entire time, she’s trying to figure out the best way to bring up that she’d really like to finish what they started the other night. However, by the time he’s left to grab some sort of takeout, she’s still no closer to an answer.

 Fortunately, their dates usually follow a pattern. Food, a movie, and then the not-so-innocent cuddles. This time, he’s on top of her when she feels the tell-tale sign that he’s as fired up as she is, so she suggests,

 “Do want to maybe move to somewhere more comfortable?” His already dilated pupils grow even larger, and he nods.

 “Yeah. That sounds like a plan.” She waits for him to roll off of her and head towards the bedroom before she grabs her purse and, digging around inside, grabs one of the foil packages she bought after their last date.

 It’s only once she closes the door behind her, shutting them into an enclosed space with a bed (not to mention it’s pretty damn clear what both of their intentions are), that nerves get the better of her.  He takes a step towards her, and she leans up to kiss him, but he ducks his head out of the way.

 “You’re shaking.” His hand ghosts over her arm, making it obvious that, by comparison, she’s practically vibrating on the spot.

 “Sorry.” She chuckles nervously. “It’ll pass.”

 “It’s alright.” As he says it, he meets her eyes. “We can stop. Nothing has to happen.”

 “I know.” She nods, swallowing hard. “But I want it to.” Their lips briefly meet before he pulls away again.

 “Let me ask you, just before we get started, is this-” He stops short, eyes darting from her face to the wall and back again. “...have you… before?” Oh. “Not that it matters, not to me, I just wanted to know so that-”

 “I have.” She nods, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “Once. I was eighteen, and-” It was awful. She’d been seeing the guy for a few months and he kept whining about her not putting out, so she decided to get it over with. He went in dry without any warning, and when she asked him to stop, give her a second to adjust, he told her he couldn’t. She was bleeding and in pain for days afterwards, and to top it off, when her period was late, she thought that, even though he’d pulled out, she was pregnant. That turned out not to be the case, but it, along with the fact that she usually doesn’t stay in one place for very long, has put a damper on her ever wanting to do that again. Except for now. “-it wasn’t a great experience.”

 “I’m sorry.” On instinct, she searches for the judgment in his face, the disgust. It’s nowhere to be found, only genuine sympathy. “I’ll do my best to make sure this time is better. That is, if you’re still up to it.”

 “I am.” Not waiting for a reply, she wraps her arms around him and starts trailing kisses up his neck towards his ear. “I am. I trust you.” She hears his breath catch, but before she can comment, he’s hoisted her up and is carrying her in the direction of the bed.

 As he sets her down, she pulls him on top of her, letting her hands wander over his sides, up his back. After a few moments, she feels his fingers move from her hips to toy with the hem of her… his.. shirt.

 “Is this okay? Can I take this off?” She starts to nod, but remembers just in time that he’s so close, they’d butt heads.

 “Please.” She expected to feel exposed once she was at least partially undressed, but instead she feels… adored. His eyes are roaming over her newly exposed skin, though his hands have respectfully returned to her waist. In a moment of confidence, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra. There. Now she’s completely shirtless.

 “You’re so beautiful.” The flush from her cheeks is spreading down her neck, but she still smiles.

 “Care to make things even?” It’s brief, but she catches the look of hesitation.

 “Sure.” Before she can offer to do it, he shrugs his shirt over his head, revealing to her, for the first time, the entirity of his metal arm. She must look for a moment too long, because with a shrug, he informs her, “I can put my shirt back on. No big deal. I know there’s some scarring…” That’s not going to fly. She needs to reassure him, make him feel as desired as he’s made her feel.

 “Or if you want to stop-” She stands and, after briefly making eye contact, places a kiss on the most prominent scar.

 “Don’t you dare think that way for a second.” They’re flush against each other, chest to bare chest. “Not for one.” Slowly, she slides her hands from his shoulders down to his waist, hesitating just over the button. “Is this okay?” Another shakey breath.

 “Yes.”

 Going forward, it’s much less awkward. The rest of their clothing is shed, and soon they’re back to their previous position; on the bed, with him on top of her. She feels his fingertips brush the inside of her thigh and gasps.

 “May I touch you?” She nods.

 “You’d better.”

 It’s gentle, more of him feeling her out than anything else. Still, she can’t help but think this is infinitely better already than last time around. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, and it takes all her effort not to whine at the loss of contact. Before she can ask if something’s wrong, does he want to stop, he’s flat on his stomach, head between her legs.

 “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

 “What-” Her breath catches as it becomes infinitely clear what he’s doing.

 Again, she’s expecting pain when, after several minutes he eases a finger into her, but at this point, she’s so wet that there’s absolutely no difficulty.

 “Are you okay?” She nods.

 “Don’t stop.”

 The process is agonizingly slow, he’s so intent on his task. When, finally, he pulls away, she’s so close that she can almost taste it.

 “Do you still want to-”

 “If you don’t stop asking me that, I’m gonna slap you.” It’s a joke, and she thinks he knows it, but just to be sure, she siezes his hand (the metal one, which is usually cold but has now warmed from being held close against her body. “I’m ready, so long as you want this too.”

 “I do. You wouldn’t believe how much.” Yeah, she thinks she would. “Just give me a second.” Perfect timing. He rolls off of her, which gives her the opening she needs to grab the packet she managed to hide under the pillow while he was… otherwise distracted. When he returns from digging inside the wardrobe, she holds it up, only to realize-

 “Oh.” He’s got one as well. “Seems like we both came prepared.”

 He chuckles. “Just in case, although that wasn’t why I asked you to stay.”

 “I know.” She nods and pats the space next to her. “Not why I said yes either, although I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

 He returns to the bed and drops his packet onto the nightstand. “Save this one for later?”

 “Definitely.”

 There is a bit of discomfort once he starts to push inside her, but it’s not painful. Just… overwhelming. Slightly embarassed she asks,

 “Can you wait a second? Please?”

 “Of course. Are you alright?” She shifts her hips slightly, making them both groan.

 “Fine. You can move now.”

 She may have only done this once before, and she has no idea what his experience consists of, but as she hits her peak mere seconds before he does, gently coaxed over the edge, she can’t help but think some things are better the second time around.

 “I love you.” It’s whispered against her neck as, once she cleans up and returns to bed, she settles herself against him.

 “I love you too.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 The first thing he thinks when he realizes that he’s not alone in bed is that HYDRA’s found him. He’s being activated. His eyes shoot open although apart from that he doesn’t move a muscle, and that’s when he recognizes the person next to him. It’s her. She’s here.

 The events of last night come back to him all at once, and he feels a smile forming on his face. It’s been a while, and in any case, it would be wrong to run a comparison, but what they shared, the pure intimacy of it both physically and mentally was incredible. Maybe he should feel a sense of shame. That’s what he was taught growing up. But instead he feels… peaceful.

 That is, until her eyelids flutter and she rolls over, shifting the covers so that he gets a good view of her still naked body, and with it, the bruises on her thighs and hips. Bruises unmistakably left by his fingers. Dammit. He’s done the last thing he ever wanted to do: he’s hurt her.

 “Good morning, sleepy head.” She yawns, the teasing words muffled. “It seems like we overslept.”

 His mouth goes dry, and all he can manage to choke out is a simple, “Yeah.”

 She frowns, sitting up slightly, and lets out a small groan. “You alright there, Bucky? You look a little off.” The late morning light only serves to highlight more marks he’s left, this time on her shoulders, neck, and breasts. Stubble burn. Hickeys. Why the hell was he so rough? At the time, he thought he was being gentle, but obviously he’s just as much of a monster as Bucky Barnes as he is once the Winter Soldier takes over.

 She’s still staring at him, brow furrowing in concern.

 “Fine.” He clears his throat and begins to sit up. “Stay here. I’ll make you a cup of tea, maybe some oatmeal.”

 “Alright. Don’t be gone too long.”

 Her words follow him out of the room, and into the kitchen. Fuck. He should’ve known better. 

Maybe once upon a time, he was a decent man, one who could be with a woman like  her and not do her a disservice. But now, it’s clear that he falls short in every way. In an act that was supposed to be pure pleasure, a way of communicating how much they mean to each other, he’s hurt her.

 “I trust you.” The words from last night ring in his ears. He shouldn’t have let her. It’s pretty damn obvious that, even at the best of times, he can’t be trusted.

 “Tell me what’s going on.” Even with his enhanced senses, he still jumps in surprise as the unexpected words come from behind him. He turns around slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s standing there, clad in only one of his shirts, arms crossed over her chest (now bearing his marks), staring him down.

 “Nothing.” He shakes his head.

 “Bullshit. I had a vision of you staring off into space, and here you are, jumpy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” At another time, her choice in phrases would make him chuckle, but right now, he can’t muster it.

 “Last night-” Her eyes widen, but she stays silent. “I hurt you.”

 “No, you didn’t. Not at all.”

 “I did.”

 She frowns. “Bucky, I think I’d know if you’d hurt me, and I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

 “Doll, look at yourself!” He reaches out to take her arm, but immediately freezes. “Go in the bathroom and take off your shirt. Take a good look in the mirror and then tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

 “Alright.” Her jaw clenches, and she marches off in the direction of the bathroom. A deep sickness gnaws at the pit of his stomach and, completely worn out, he sinks into a kitchen chair.

 Not thirty seconds pass before she walks back into the room, this time completely undressed.

 “Tell me you’re not talking about a few love bites.”

 “And bruises! You may not have noticed, but they’re in the exact shape of my fingertips.”

 “Oh my god!” She shakes her head. “It’s a sex injury. A minor one at that! If you didn’t heal so damn fast, you’d probably have nail marks all over your back!”

 “That’s not the same thing.”

 “How is it not the same thing?”

 “I’m a monster! And you’re not.”

 She takes a determined step towards him, and he leans as far back as the chair will allow.

 “Bucky, you are not a monster, and I am not afraid of you.”

 “Then you’re stupid.” He hates himself for his sharp words, but she needs to take this seriously. Underestimating how dark, how evil he can be, is a mistake. A deadly one.

 “Hey!”

 “Don’t you get it?” Without any input from his brain, he stands. “They could find me, and with a few words, I could stare you dead in the eyes as I murdered you! If you were my mission, I wouldn’t even hesitate, and you’d be dead before your body hit the floor!” Her mouth falls open, but she immediately closes it again. “This isn’t something that can be worked through with some patience and a positive attitude! I could kill you!”

 “So could a million other things!” Her voice rises in volume, and before he can contain it-

 “But they’re not in the bed sleeping next to you!” He’s shouting at her. God. Everyone is right. He’s beyond saving.

 A few tense seconds pass before she looks up at him, a steely look in her eyes.

 “Look, I get it. I know what you could do to me.” As she speaks, she pulls out a chair and sits. “But I could also get run over when I cross the road, or the room could fill with carbon monoxide while I sleep. I could have an aneurysm and drop before anyone knows what’s happening.”

 He opens his mouth to tell her the likelihood of any of those things happening is far lower than the chance that he’ll hurt her, this time in a major way, but she holds up a hand, silencing him.

 “I’m gonna be cautious, but I’m also not going to live my life in fear that the ceiling is going to collapse or nuclear war is going to strike, or that someone is gonna turn up and say the magic words that make you go cuckoo for cocoa puffs-” What? “-and I just realized you’re too old for that reference.”

 “That’s another thing-” He’s about to remind her exactly how big their age gap is, that although he’s physically close to her age, chronologically, he’s closer to the age of her great grandfather, but she lets out a sudden groan of frustration, and that makes him bite his tongue.

 “Oh, fuck off, Barnes! If you’re about to start in on how you’re too old for me, then I’m not gonna wait for you to go full Winter Soldier before I kick your ass!” Out of all things, that’s what snaps him out of it, makes him feel like maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance they can make the best of things.

 Smirking, he asks her,

 “You think you could kick my ass? Really?” It must be the breaking point for her too, because she snickers.

 “Of course. It’s the little bitches you have to watch out for.”  That’s it, he’s laughing, nearly doubled over, and from the looks of things, she’s in much the same state.

 “You’re something else, you know that?” He asks between stilted breaths.

 “I think we both fit in that category, Pal.” Her smile fades, but only slightly. “Bucky, if you really want me to go, if that’s what’ll give you peace, then I’ll do it, but I meant what I said. I trust you.” Never. He’ll never want her to go, he’s sure of it. Well then, that only leaves one option.

 “I know what we’re doing today.” It’s an abrupt segue, but it’s the only thing he could come up with on short notice.

 “And what’s that?”  The microwave dings, reminding him that he needs to stir the oatmeal, and he pushes past her.

 “Sit down and have your tea. You’re going to need all your energy if I’m gonna show you how to use a gun.” If she’s staying, then at least he can teach her how to defend herself beyond the basics she already knows.

 “So I guess this means you’re keeping me around for a little while longer?” It’s spoken like a joke, but he turns to her, meeting her eyes to drive the point home.

 “Yeah, Doll. As long as you want me."

[kariachi]

Storyline thoughts for the earlier mentioned Morningstar Vengeance Mode (because I’m a digimon nerd that’s why). Warning, shit’s fucking long.

Okay, so, we start with Mike introduction as usual and it goes a lot different. Not completely different, but despite him and Kevin clearly not liking each other from the word go there’s a lot of changes. He doesn’t have eyes and teeth on Gwen for one thing- she and Ben are just a means to the Ruin Max Tennyson end and he’s going to make full use of them, can’t do that if one’s a half-dead thrall

Still flirts? Still flirts. It’s his default way of communicating with people in his age range who aren’t other Ossys or Elena. So he’s flirting with Gwen and Ben and sniping and snapping back and forth with Kevin because they’re too young to be thinking in terms of mating options but just old enough to be growly over territory.

The only other person who fights with him over it is Manny and he doesn’t even want the territory he just doesn’t want Mike to win. The others are either too far removed from their roots to want territory, are Erinaen and therefor non-territorial, live outside of territory range, or are Cooper and have accepted that the others are more dominant forces than him

Mike joins the team, everyone is happy except Kevin

Ken rescues happen, Max is found, mentions being happy about how well Mike is holding up among all his other ‘hi kids’ shit, Mike is notably colder than normal, is surprisingly affected by Max’s death

He is so fucking pissed, though that doesn’t come out until later. How dare he fucking die before Mike could ruin him. How. Fucking. Dare.

For a while Kevin is the glue holding the team together despite himself while Gwen is a wreck, Mike is a more put together wreck, and Ben is trying to pretend he’s not a wreck. It takes a while for everything to even back out.

(Not sure if I want to modify What little Girls Are Made Of... Like, on the one hand I’ve been writing Mike as having the Spark for a while now, but on the other what would having him be verified an Anodite do for the story besides encourage Gwike?)

Eventually this version’s version of Darkstar Rising comes along- earlier, probably, and with a lot more shit with the Plumbers Helpers before it happens- and we don’t have Magister Dumbshit (I can’t remember his name, this works) talking about vigilantism and crap, but about the fact that Max authorized a bunch of underage civilians to get involved is illegal, alongside a whole host of other things that are brought up that basically boil down to both “sit down, the professionals will handle things from here” and “holy shit your grandpa was a piece of shit”

The Tennysons are freaking out, because some of the shit brought up is stuff nobody would’ve known to look into if they hadn’t heard about it from family, and eventually it comes out that Mike is the one who made the call.

This is where we get the backstory- Max was involved in his father’s death (how? I don’t know yet. I don’t even know how he went yet. Also how bitter Mike is and just how he ended up going this far may vary depending on if I decide to keep Devin a thing. I kinda don’t want Kevin one of the Plumber Kids for this... Devin was thing but not Kevin’s father? Or his father but nobody knows/knew it? Eva seems the type to get knocked up by a one night stand and roll with it.) Max was involved in Mike’s father’s death, it was classed as an accident or his involvement was small enough that it wasn’t considered or he was just there, who knows, whatever the situation Mike put the blame on him and has been working with the Tennysons to take advantage of Ben’s hero worship to gather dirt. He was going to ruin his life, but with him dead the least he can do is ruin his good reputation.

Ben and Gwen of course flip and cut all ties with him while Kevin is torn between “Can’t blame him too much” and “Yeah, fuck him, territory thief” (Kevin no, he was here first, stop). With Kevin’s help they’re able to fake some shit to restore Max’s good name, managing to both get Magister Dumbshit to let them keep helping with the Highbreed Stuff but also managing to get Mike in trouble with the law (only half on purpose, because damnit don’t attack their family and make them consider how shit their grandfather might actually be)

That last one’s fun, making sure Mike will want to return to start more shit while also giving us a bit of darkness for the Tennysons to grapple with and try to reconcile. It doesn’t become a theme, but they do have to actually stop and consider that they just got an innocent guy in trouble with the law, partly by accident and partly because they were angry. (Kevin, meanwhile, sits sagely. He knows the feel, been there so very often.)

We still get the team-up for the Highbreed Finale, which stays mostly the same, with just minor edits to fit the new canon. Mike’s involvement ends with him and Kevin glaring each other down and silently parting ways, both too tired after all that to start shit.

From that point Mike is a regularly recurring villain across the series with a few different story types- 1) Out for Max’s blood, 2) Out for Ben and Gwen’s blood, 3) Fuck Off Levin This Neighborhood Is Mine, and 4) Miscellaneous

He loses the first 2 types, of course, but sometimes manages a win in Type 3 episodes. Makes it a nice power struggle between him and Kevin as they try to ‘take over’ Bellwood and Undertown.

I’m not sure whether or not I’d keep the Dominus Librum inccident... On the one hand without Mike being all half-starved I don’t know that it completely fits, but on the other we could have him finally taking drastic action to stop being so fucking hungry. Could maybe tie it in with a modified In Charms Way...

The boys lose their powers as a result of the artifact and for a while get along great without them, mostly because they’re celebrating being normal for the first times in their lives and hey, who else are they gonna celebrate with. But the effects turn out not to last long and between that and Mike’s continued hate for the Tennysons, well...

Then, we get a different In Charms Way where there’s no fucking pseudo-romance angle, purely platonic manipulation, and have it happening at the same time as Dominus Librum. How might things have gone if friendships had truly blossomed? Will we ever know? *shrug*

Mike’s involvement in the Ultimate Kevin arc stays the same, this time being brought in despite everyone’s best interests because he’s the leading expert that isn’t half-eaten and also they’re hoping he’s as interested in powering down Kevin as Gwen is

He really is. Has been avoiding that fucker like the plague, has no intention of ending up gristle between his teeth

While all this shit is going down, he notices the similarities between his and Gwen’s powers and begins looking into magic- even winning a few fights with Kevin through it (seriously, please picture both of them having big maps of Bellwood with their territories marked off on it that they just growl over occasionally)- which leads into the next altered episode

Couples Retreat is entirely different, like the episode idea I offered a while back. Charm opens her door to a battered and tired teenager laying on the charm and asking to be taught magic. She’s surprised, a little confused, and Gwen is visibly against the idea, so she says yes. The rest of the episode consists of the Tennysons trying to get her to change her mind while Kevin celebrates in the background because a Mike in a different dimension is a Mike without claims to Bellwood.

Charmcaster does not change her mind and the last we see of the two in UA is them in Charm’s library, going over the basics.

During OV half the time Mike is seen it’s with Charmcaster. His magic improves and he continues to hold a fucking grudge. They make a good team, she treats him like an annoying younger brother when she isn’t treating him like a student, it’s a fun team-up and the way she keeps correcting his form is hilarious. For the most part things seem normal, though sometimes Charm seems off.

Eventually though she starts acting too off and Mike goes to Cooper for help with whatever the problem is because he doesn’t exactly have many friends and Cooper is the best of moral grey. Cooper then goes to Kevin, and Kevin gets the Tennysons involved. This becomes a multi-episode arc where the old team get together again- Ben, Gwen, Kevin, Mike, with added Rook- to figure out what’s wrong with Charmcaster and fix it. They do. The final scene has Charm and Mike leave on shaky but maybe better ground with the Tennysons, a silent promise that maybe things could truly improve between the groups.

The flash forward episode has Charmcaster in the background

Mike is mentioned as not coming because even nearly 20 years later still Fuck Maxwell with a Pineapple.

[bee-not-afraid]

okay take 2 since tumblr mobile fucked up the first post! i wrote the forbidden sora/vanitas content based off of this post here since it got a bit of attention

chapter 1 is below the cut, or you can read here on ao3. please comment/reblog and let me know what you think!

They were in the middle of a volleyball match, keyblade wielders (minus Lea) versus former Organization XIII members (minus Roxas and Xion), when the first Flood popped out of the sand and made a beeline for Tidus, the match referee.

“Wha-?!” Tidus sputtered, jumping back amid a flurry of sand.

“Unversed!” Ventus was first to react, keyblade materializing in a flash of light. The others soon followed suit, an array of weapons appearing in concert with a flood of Floods popping out of the shadows.

“Hey!” Lea complained, twirling his keyblade behind his head. “I totally just scored a point! Tidus! You better get that memorized! I expect to see that point on the board after we finish off these guys.”

“Ugh,” Sora agreed. “Couldn’t they have waited until after the match? Wait, doesn’t this mean Vanitas is here?” He swung his keyblade in an arc, dispatching four Floods at once.

“Probably here for Ventus,” Riku remarked from over Sora’s shoulder, casting a Thundaga. “It’s getting kind of annoying.”

“He can try as much as he wants,” Aqua spat, freezing a large group with a well-placed Blizzaga, “and we’ll beat him every time.”

It didn’t take very long for the Floods to be dispatched, the beach once again free of any threats. Ventus dematerialized his keyblade first with a drawn-out sigh. “I’ll go find him,” he said. “No need for anyone else to get involved. You guys continue the game without me!” he called out, already halfway down the beach.

“Hey, wait!” Sora called, jogging to catch up. “It’s dangerous to go alone! You should really have some kind of backup.”

“Yes, you should,” Aqua agreed as she and Terra caught up to them. “We can stay out of the way if you want, but we should at least be nearby.”

“Fine,” Ventus acquiesced. “More people will probably just piss him off, though.”

“He’s nothing we can’t handle,” Aqua remarked.

“True enough,” Ventus agreed. “He’s mostly just a nuisance at this point. Either join us or leave us alone, you know? Xehanort’s gone, the war is over.”

“And good riddance,” Terra muttered.

“Why do you think he keeps attacking you?” Sora asked, folding his hands behind his head. “He’s not still trying to fuse with you, is he? There’s no real reason to try to forge the χ-blade anymore.”

“No, I don’t think he cares about that anymore.” Ventus frowned. “I suppose he’s trying to prove himself over me. Or maybe he does want to fuse, but only to get a better body?”

“But you don’t want to fuse?” Sora asked.

“No. I’m fine without him. And he just wants to control me, anyway,” Ventus answered.

“Well, you can always ask for Vanitas’s side once we meet him,” Terra said.

“Yeah, but don’t expect him to give you a decent answer,” Ventus shot back.

The four of them walked farther along the beach of Destiny Islands, the sounds of the resumed volleyball game gradually fading behind them.

***

They found Vanitas on one of the smaller islands inaccessible from the main area, Terra somehow managing to row them all there in the tiny, rickety wooden rowboat on the pier. The sun shone down mercilessly on the smaller island, which was mostly sand with one tall outcropping of rock in the center. Predictably, Vanitas sat on the top of the outcrop, helmeted head cradled in his hand and reflecting the ground below.

“Hello, brother,” he sang out. “Brought your little friends along? Too scared to face me by yourself?”

Ventus rolled his eyes. “I can take you myself. They’re just spectating.”

“Oh, I think I can help keep them occupied.” Vanitas jumped down from the rock, darkness consuming the sand around him as the Unversed clawed their way into the sunlight.

Keyblades flashed into being as everyone dropped into battle-ready stances. “Vanitas! We don’t have to do this!” Ventus called.

“We will always have to do this Ventus, for as long as we both exist. I can’t let my worse half start getting complacent now, can I?” Vanitas crooned back, smirk audible in his voice.

“Okay,” Ventus muttered. “I tried. Alright, let’s get this over with, Vanitas. I’ve got a volleyball match to get back to.”

“Oh, look at you!” Vanitas yelled. “Think you’re so much better than me, huh?!” His keyblade appeared in a flash of fire, more Unversed springing forth from the sand.

Rather than reply, Ventus sprang forward, keyblade whirling out for a strike.

***

“Well, that’s that?” Terra said, banishing his keyblade after one last look around the small island. “Back to the others, then!”

“Yeah,” Ventus sighed as Aqua’s Curaga washed over him, mending his cuts and bruises. “Hope we’re still winning.”

“They’ve probably finished the match by now,” Aqua said.

“Awww,” Sora whined. “I didn’t get to show off that secret move I’ve been practicing!” He kicked up a spray of sand with his foot.

Terra chuckled. “If it’s the move that involves using your keyblade, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

“Hey! It’s still cool!” Sora puffed out his cheeks in indignation.

Together, the four of them began to head back to their little boat and then to the main island. The fight had taken a while, but they had all faced worse – Vanitas’s current power was only of fraction of what he had wielded previously. His taunts now rang empty and were easily ignored, and it didn’t take too much for Ventus to beat him back up the rock, where he quickly opened a Corridor of Darkness and made his exit before he could actually lose the fight. That was a recurring theme, now – Vanitas would show up with his Unversed, hoping to draw out Ventus to some remote location where they would fight. When Ventus inevitably began to gain the upper hand, Vanitas would slink off, reappearing a few weeks later for a reprise. Sora frowned as he turned it over in his mind. From what he knew of Vanitas’s history, he hadn’t really been the type to cut and run before – he would at least see battles out to their conclusion first. Maybe he was just toying with them, trying to lull them into a sense of complacency or enact some equally dastardly scheme. Or maybe he was just desperate and trying to keep up appearances.

“Hey, Ventus?” Sora asked, stopping just behind the other boy. They were close enough to hear the others, now.

“Yeah?” Ventus stopped and turned to look at him.

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but Vanitas is weaker now than he used to be, right?”

“Yeah,” Ventus sighed. “Beating him now isn’t exactly easy, but it’s nothing compared to our fights in the past.”

“He’s definitely much weaker,” Aqua added. “Although his opinion of himself hasn’t seemed to change much.”

“And… that’s because…” Sora started.

“Probably because he’s had to reform so much recently,” Ventus continued for him. “He was trapped inside you for a while, Sora. Then we beat him again at the Keyblade Graveyard and he had to reform himself once more. It makes sense he wouldn’t be quite as strong as before.” Ventus shrugged. “That’s probably why he’s attacking so much, if that’s why you’re asking. He’s trying to rebuild his strength.”

“Probably why we keep having to fight so many Unversed, too,” Terra said. “He’s using them to gather negative energy, or something.”

“Right,” Sora sighed. “I guess I knew all that, huh?”

“It’s definitely frustrating,” Ventus said. “I wish he would just listen to me. There’s no point in all this fighting. He could still join us.”

“I agree, but complaining about it here isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Aqua said gently, laying a hand on Ventus’s shoulder. “Let’s get back to the others.”

“Huh, looks like the match is actually still going on,” Terra commented.

“What, really? I can still show Riku my cool new move!” Sora dashed off, thoughts of Vanitas banished at the prospect of showing off for his best friend.

“No, Sora! I told you there’s no keyblades in volleyball!” Terra shouted, running after him.

Ventus and Aqua shared a glance, then burst into giggles.

***

The match ended in a sound defeat for the keyblade wielders, due in part to Sora’s use of illegal moves on the court. Sora pouted as he thought about it, lying on his bed staring up at the dark ceiling. The moon had risen above the waves some time ago, but Sora found himself still awake, pondering a potential ruleset for his new, better game, Keyblade Volleyball. He supposed he’d need to make the game possible for any weapon type, in order for the former Organization XIII to play, but that would complicate the types of moves that could be allowed…

A faint scuffling from outside drew Sora out of his thoughts. He rolled himself out of bed and towards his open window (he slept better at night, being able to hear the waves and know that he was home and Riku was home and Kairi was home and they were all going to stay that way) to investigate. Leaning his elbows on the wooden windowsill, he scanned the empty beach. Nothing. He found his eyes wandering over to the ocean instead, the blue waves turned black in the dark of night. Somehow it didn’t seem quite as vast and impenetrable a barrier as it had seemed so long ago, when he and Riku and Kairi talked of nothing but rafts and adventure and escape.

The scuffling sound came again and drew Sora’s attention back to the beach. He frowned and scanned the beach once more, straining his eyes and looking more carefully this time. The moon was almost full, so the beach was mostly visible. But again, Sora could find nothing…

Wait. His eyes stopped by the palm tree. The scuffling sound played once more, and this time Sora thought he saw a shadow move by the base of the tree. He leaned further out the window, squinting, and made out a pair slit red eyes. An Unversed! Sora awkwardly climbed up on the windowsill before dropping down into the sand below and dashing for the tree.

He defeated the Unversed with a few swings of the keyblade, then drove the tip into the sand as he inspected the base of the tree to see if there were any more. Had they missed these earlier? Had Vanitas left a few behind before he disappeared?

“Oh, it’s you,” a voice sneered from behind him.

Sora spun around to find Vanitas standing a few feet away, helmet reflecting the moonlit waves. He reached for his keyblade, dropping into his battle stance. “Vanitas! Back for more?”

Vanitas scoffed. “As if you could be any challenge, loser. You aren’t even a keyblade master.” Yet he summoned his own keyblade and shot off a fireball.

Sora dodged to the side, and the fireball went hurtling out over sea. “Wait, we don’t need to fight! Isn’t once enough for today?” he called.

“So you say, but who reached for their keyblade first?” Vanitas shot back.

“Fine!” Sora banished his keyblade, then quickly jumped out the way of an attack. “Hey! No keyblade, see? We don’t have to fight!”

Vanitas swung his keyblade again. “Quit mocking me!” he hissed. “You better call that keyblade back if you want to live, Sora.”

“I won’t!” Sora said. “Why do you insist on fighting us, Vanitas? None of us want to, you know.”

Vanitas laughed. “As if I care what any of you want.”

“Are you just trying to fuse back with Ventus?” Sora pressed. “Why can’t you just talk to him?”

“None of your business,” Vanitas snarled, driving his keyblade forward and plunging it into the side of the palm tree when Sora rolled away. “That’s between me and Ventus.”

“But you aren’t talking to him, either!” Sora exclaimed.

“What, do you want me to tell you all about my feelings?” Vanitas sneered, ripping his keyblade out and sending small slivers of tree flying. “You want to be my friend? Teach me the power of light and goodness?” He sent off another fireball.

Sora jumped up onto the tree. “Yes! Is that so bad? We don’t have to be against each other! If not me, at least talk to Ventus!”

“I am really sick of sharing a face with someone like you,” Vanitas ground out, anger palpable in his voice.

“At least tell us why! Give us some reason for this!” This was going nowhere. And really, why would it? Vanitas had said next to nothing on his own behalf in the months of his random attacks, only spouting his lines about wanting to fight and mocking the others until they were mad enough to do so, then leaving with some quick, parting insult. Sora mentally readied himself to call back his keyblade.

“Fine,” Vanitas said, to Sora’s surprise. “Here’s a reason: I’m going fuse back with Ventus and take over his body. My body. And then I can really be me, and everything will be better. For me, of course. But who cares about him?”

“Really be you…?” Sora frowned. And then flipped out the way of an incoming fireball, landing hard in the sand. “Hey, you’re already your own person. You don’t need Ventus for that.”

Vanitas lunged for him, keyblade swinging. “Ha! You think this body can get me anywhere? You think I want to live like this?”

“Like what?” Sora couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something he was missing here. He was quickly starting to feel out of his depth.

“Like this,” Vanitas hissed, and darkness enveloped the ground around them. A lone Unversed clawed its way up to the light, but before Sora could react, Vanitas ran forward and cut it down. Sora’s eyes widened as he watched it fade away and absorb back into Vanitas, who shuddered noticeably. “I will make myself whole again, whether Ventus wants it or not.”

“That’s not right!” Sora protested weakly. The feeling of there is something here you are not understanding had lodged itself uncomfortably in his stomach.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Vanitas replied. “Fight me.”

Sora planted his feet and shook his head. “No.”

Vanitas fixed the blank stare of his helmet on Sora for a long moment. Finally, he deflated, lowering his arms back to his side. “Fine. There’s nothing here for me, then.” A Corridor of Darkness opened behind him, and before Sora could say anything he had stepped through it and vanished.

***

“Vanitas? Hmm. I can’t say I know too much about him off of the top of my head, but perhaps there is some data on him here I could dig up for you?” Ienzo said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“Thanks, Ienzo!” Sora smiled up at him. He’d come to visit Radiant Garden, hoping to find something here that might explain what Vanitas didn’t. He’d been turning over their encounter all night and morning, trying to uncover whatever it was he seemed to be missing. He’d asked Ventus, but all he knew was that Vanitas’s existence was unstable in some way. That was probably part of Vanitas’s desire to fuse, but after last night Sora was sure some reason was running deeper than that. So he’d taken the Gummi Ship out to Radiant Garden right after breakfast, to pick the brains of his favorite researchers.

“Vanitas, is it? He was created by Xehanort out of Ventus, correct?” Ansem the Wise asked. “We unfortunately cannot ask Xehanort anything, but perhaps looking at Ventus could teach us something?”

“I will search through our systems to see if Xehanort has left any research notes that might be of use. But if I may Sora, why do you want to know?” Ienzo asked.

Sora frowned as he thought it over. “It was something he said to me… I ran into him last night, and asked him why he was insisting on fighting us. He started talking about the usual stuff, wanting to fuse with Ventus, be whole… but he said something else about how he wanted to ‘make everything better’ and ‘stop feeling like this.’ And he cut down one of his own Unversed…”

“He attacked an Unversed?” Ienzo asked, surprise feuding with curiosity in his tone.

“Yeah. He called it out, but then he just beat it back before I could do anything. He absorbed it back into himself, but there was something weird about that too… The whole thing just bugged me. Like there’s something here I don’t know. So I thought I’d come here and ask you guys about it.”

“Can you describe what was weird about him absorbing the Unversed, Sora?” Ansem questioned.

“Umm, I dunno, it was just kind of unexpected? And he kind of… shuddered, when he absorbed it back. I guess he could feel it, somehow?” Sora mused.

“I see,” Ansem said. “If the Unversed are formed from negative emotions, and they return to their master upon being defeated, then it is likely the negative emotions he felt that made the Unversed in the first place return to him as well. I imagine it would be an unpleasant sensation.”

“That’s true,” Ienzo added. “And if the Unversed are part of him, is it possible harming the Unversed might harm him as well?”

“So… every time we defeat an Unversed, the negative emotions return to Vanitas, and it hurts him? That’s… awful.” Sora’s frown deepened.

“Well, this is all simply conjecture,” Ienzo said. “I’ll go see if I can dig up any data now. I’ll call you if I find anything, okay? Try not to worry about this too much.”

“Bring Ventus here sometime, Sora,” Ansem said. “We may be able to learn something from him as well.”

“Alright. Thanks, guys! You’re a big help.” Sora flashed them both a bright grin and walked back to the Gummi Ship, a slight bounce returning to his step.

***

“Alright, alright, so… Bed, wed, behead: Naminé, Maleficent, and Selphie.”

Kairi wrinkled her nose. “Sora, what kind of group is that?”

“Just tell us your answers already,” Riku laughed.

“Fine, fine. Uh… Behead Maleficent, wed Naminé, and bed Selphie.”

“Really? You’d marry your own Nobody?” Sora questioned, raising his eyebrows. “Isn’t that a little weird?”

“Maybe,” Kairi shrugged. “But we’ve definitely seen and done way weirder.”

“True enough,” Riku said. “My turn.”

They were hanging out in Sora’s bedroom, just the three of them. Riku had declared it too hot for any outdoor activities (“You’re just saying that because you got a sunburn yesterday,” Kairi had teased) so they’d all decided to lay on a pile of Sora’s blankets with the window open and the fan on full blast. A pitcher of ice-cold water rested within arm’s reach, but so far they’d mostly used it to pour water on each other for coming up with disgusting “bed, wed, behead” combinations.

“Okay, Sora, bed, wed, behead: Xemnas, Ansem, and Ansem the Wise,” Riku said.

“Yuck!” Sora stuck his tongue out. “I really have to choose from those guys?”

“You really do,” Riku grinned. “C’mon, let’s hear it.” He dug an elbow into Sora’s side.

“Ugh,” Sora groaned as dramatically as he could. “Then… wed Ansem the Wise.”

“Interesting choice,” Riku commented.

“Shut up. Bed… Ansem.”

“Ha. I’d bed him, too,” Kairi remarked.

“Gross, Kairi,” Riku said.

“What? He’s the best looking of the three!” she insisted.

“Which leaves behead Xemnas,” Sora finished. “Ugh, that was awful.”

“My turn!” Kairi sang. “Riku, bed, wed, behead: Xion, Aqua, and Naminé.”

“Hmm…” Riku thought it over. “Wed Naminé, bed Aqua, behead Xion? I feel awful doing that to Xion, though.”

“I’m noticing a pattern with everyone wanting to wed Naminé,” Sora said.

“She’s sweet.” Kairi shrugged. “I have one for you, too, Sora.”

“Oh, okay. Bring it on,” Sora grinned.

“Bed, wed, behead: Riku Replica, Naminé, and Vanitas.”

“…Okay,” Sora said, “I’m gonna have to wed Naminé.”

“See?” Riku laughed. “Naminé’s just the best choice.”

“And then… B-bed Riku Replica.”

“Wow, Sora, very forward of you,” Kairi teased.

“Quiet!” Sora groaned. “There is no good option here! I can’t win with this group!” Out of the corner of his eye, Sora noticed Riku was slightly flushed.

“So you’d behead Vanitas, then?” Kairi prompted.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sora frowned. “I mean, wedding him would be awful and bedding him would just be weird. He looks just like me.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have sex with your clone, then? Interesting,” Riku said.

“What, and you would?” Sora asked.

“Sure. It could be fun,” Riku replied with a nonchalant shrug.

“I would too!” Kairi chimed in. “It’s just like masturbating, right? Nothing wrong with that.”

“It’s different!” Sora insisted. “It’s like a whole other person. It’s weird!”

“Only if you make it weird,” Riku said.

“So then, you would bed Riku Replica, too?” Sora challenged.

Riku considered. “Yeah,” he decided. “My answer is exactly the same as yours. Sorry I don’t want to fuck your clone, Sora,” he apologized. “But he’s kind of an asshole.”

“He’s not my clone! Apologize to Ventus if you’re going to apologize to someone.”

“Ooh, Sora!” Kairi clapped her hands. “Bed, wed, behead: Ventus, Roxas, and Vanitas.”

“There’s a group,” Riku laughed. “Well, Sora?”

“Shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn?” Sora whined. “I’ve already-” He was cut off by a loud chime. He sat up and crawled over to the bed, snatching the Gummiphone from off its surface and taking the call. “Hello?”

“Hello!” Ienzo smiled back on the screen. “Just thought I’d update you on my progress! I’ve found some interesting notes from Xehanort, during his time as an apprentice here. It concerns the nature of darkness… some of it may apply to Vanitas.”

“That’s great!” Sora beamed. “Read anything interesting?”

“Vanitas?” Riku muttered, moving next to Sora to look at Ienzo. “Speak of the devil.”

“What’s this about Vanitas?” Kairi asked, moving to Sora’s other side.

“Er, hello,” Ienzo said. “Sora asked me to look into anything concerning Vanitas… As far as these notes I found, the most interesting thing I’ve read so far is concerning the nature of pure darkness. These notes seem to insinuate that any being of pure darkness would be filled with negative emotions, and that such emotions would cause pain and drive the being to lash out at others… although these notes appear to be mostly conjecture. At this point Xehanort would have had no means of testing any of this. Still, it matches up with what Ansem and I both suspected, so I’d say there’s likely some truth to this. Nevertheless, I will continue searching for anything that might be more relevant.”

“Um, so what you’re saying is that… Vanitas attacks people… because…” Sora trailed off, face scrunched up in thought.

“Because he’s in pain?” Riku finished.

“That’s awful,” Kairi said. “But it’s no excuse to hurt others.”

“Indeed,” Ienzo agreed. “Still, after reading this, I feel it is fairly safe to assume that defeating the Unversed probably hurts Vanitas as well. If what you saw is typical, Sora, and Vanitas frequently fights the Unversed himself, he’s likely usually in a fair bit of a pain.”

“Why would he do that to himself?” Sora asked.

“That, I do not know.” Ienzo shook his head. “I’ll keep digging over here. You should bring Ventus by sometime, as we may discover more. But that’s all I have for now.” And with that, the call disconnected.

Riku turned to Sora and raised an eyebrow. “So why are you looking into Vanitas?”

“Well…” As Sora launched into his recollection of his fight with Vanitas the night before, he found his mind wandering back to what Ienzo had said. Was that the real reason? Vanitas was hurting, and he thought fusing with Ventus would stop it?

“Hm… I agree that that’s a little strange,” Kairi said. “So you think he’s really hurting?”

“Yeah… I’m starting to,” Sora said. “I mean, you guys heard what Ienzo said. What do you think?”

“I think it would make sense,” Riku said. “The longer you’re in pain, the more desperate you’d become to get it to stop. If he thinks fusing with Ventus is the solution, it could explain why he keeps trying even though we beat him at every turn. But then again, it could be something completely else. We could be way off here.”

“I don’t think so,” Kairi mused. “I think what Vanitas said to Sora matches up with this theory. Saying he wants to get better and doesn’t want to live like this? That sounds like it could be a chronic pain thing to me.”

“That’s terrible, though,” Sora said, voice quiet. “No one deserves to feel like that.”

“It is,” Kairi agreed. “Maybe you should try talking to him again sometime.”

“I doubt you’d get anywhere,” Riku said. “And anyway, as terrible as it is, it still doesn’t excuse his actions.”

“I guess not,” Sora sighed. “Still. I want to help him if I can. I can’t just stand by if I know someone’s hurting. I have to help. I have to do something.”

Riku sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know better than to try to discourage you from something like this,” he said wryly. “Just be careful, okay? He’s not our friend. He could hurt you.”

“I’ll support you, Sora,” Kairi said, lightly gripping his arm. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“Thanks, Kairi.” Sora flashed her a brilliant smile. “Riku, I’ll be careful.” He had no idea what, exactly, he should do, but it would definitely have to involve seeing a lot more of Vanitas. Getting him to actually talk instead of just taunt and fight would be a good staring place, he supposed. He sort of managed it last time, so maybe he could do it again? If he could get Vanitas to open up, he could get a better idea of how to help him. And then they wouldn’t have to fight anymore. This could benefit all of his friends, and maybe he could even make a new one! Sora’s head spun with newfound possibilities.

“Soo…” Kairi started after the silence had stretched into several minutes. “Does this change your answer at all, Sora?”

“Huh? What answer?” Sora blinked.

Kairi giggled. “Bed, wed, behead: Ventus, Roxas, and Vanitas.”

“Oh, yeah,” Riku snickered. “I’m still very interested in your answer.”

“Oh,” Sora flushed. “Well, let’s see…”

[creativitymouth]

The World Forgetting by The World Forgotten Pt.5

A/N - This is a wild ride and it’s going to keep going up. Thanks again for the support. 

Summary: (Y/N) would do anything for her friends including strumming around in sewage. AgedUp!SlowBurn!RichieTozierxFem!Reader. 

Trigger Warning: Language, Depressive Themes, Mentions of Neglect and Abuse. 

Chapter 5

The Barrens

If you could have, you would have given into primal instinct and eaten Beverly as though you were a Zombie. Maybe even turned her so she would have to spend her days walking the earth and listening to you scold her about privacy, that’s how upset you were. Bev had walked in on you and Richie asleep together on your bed that morning and decided that making a huge scene out of nothing was called for.

“Shit!” Beverly yelled causing Richie to stir. “Oh, shit fuck, fucking shit, are you guys wearing clothes?” Richie’s eyes had shot open as he moved to sit up. “Do not move if you aren’t wearing anything Tozier! I swear!”

“I’m wearing clothes for fucks sake Beverly Marsh, calm down.” He grumbled, still slightly exhausted. Richie couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. Sure, he was sleeping next to the girl he loved, in her bed but that didn’t seem like enough to make Marsh act like she’d seen a pig anus. That’s when he noticed that you were basically under him as he slept on his stomach, your hand balled into his shirt and his arm thrown across his waist. His eyes widened, and it was his turn to swear. “Oh shit.” He mumbled. Yeah if he walked on anyone in this position he would have acted the same way.

“Shh,” you mumbled groggily, “don’t go. Sleep more. Warm.” Your hands tightened on his shirt and he stiffened.

“Holy shit.” He said again, not sure what else to do as he stared at your sleeping figure.

“I’m never going to let her live this down.” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of Beverly's voice. A second ago you had been sure it was just part of a dream but now you shot up so quickly that Richie almost fell off the bed.

“Beverly?” Your face reddened at the thought of the position you had been in, and the fact that you had spoken out loud and not in your head.

“Is it time for me to clap and say finally?” Bev asked, and you missed Richie frantically mouthing no as he shook his head behind you.

“What?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes. You looked down at Richie who was just beginning to sit up.

“Nothing.” Richie stated grumpily. “Your best friends just a fucking weirdo.” You pushed him gently on the shoulder.

“She’s my favorite weirdo.” You chuckled awkwardly, still unsure of how you and Richie had found yourselves in that position. “My favorite weirdo, who I still don’t know why she’s here.”

“Oh!” She stated, still staring at Richie strangely. “Well, I figure while you're off with the losers I could stay in my room and when you come back we could have fun.” Beverly wiggled her eyebrows at her last statement. Her idea of fun always ended with you waking up with a headache and a sore throat.

“Her room?” Richie asked.

“Yeah she has a room here. It used to be the guest bedroom, but since she’s here so often my parents let her turn it into her own personal room.”

“Those money bags are good for something.” She stated. “Well, I’ll leave you two to,” she stopped glancing between you and Richie, “whatever the hell is happening here.” She walked away, and you soon heard the bedroom door close behind her.

“So.” You said awkwardly, tapping your leg.

“Yeah.” He smirked at you. “We should probably get ready to go.” You nodded, getting up to grab his leather jacket from a chair in the far corner of the room. He raised his eyebrows.

“You mind?”

“Not at all.”

Now, you were swimming in Richie’s leather jacket, swimming in your thoughts, and walking through the barrens behind Billy to some unknown destination. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about Richie and the could have been. Beverly was starting to get into your head. You couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of being curled up to him. For Richie it was no different, maybe worse seeing you were wearing his jacket. He desperately wanted you to know how he felt, and now he felt a glimmer of hope that you felt the same with the way. Hope was a dangerous thing and often led to heartbreak or miscommunication, but Richie decided to hold on as he recalled the feeling of your tiny fists pulling on his shirt.

“Are you in pain?” Richie asked suddenly as he made his way over to you.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know they say the fall from Heaven is pretty painful. So, I was wondering if you were okay after it.” Your face flushed bright red as you sputtered, Richie smirking down at you.

Yeah, he thought to himself, this might work. Richie was about to say something else when Stan cut him off.

“That's poison ivy.” Stan said brushing past you and pointing at a plant. “And that's poison ivy.” He continued. “And that's poison ivy.”

“Where?” You asked following behind to look at where Stan was pointing. Stepping in poison ivy, though trivial when compared to your long list of other problems, was not something you wanted to do. You always hated the feeling of being itchy and noted the lack of calamine lotion that you had at home.

“Where's the poison ivy?” Eddie cut in now, beginning to grow frantic. Where you dreaded poison ivy just for the fact of being uncomfortable, Eddie saw all the possible Long-Term Effects of poison ivy map themselves out in his head.

“Nowhere, not every fucking plant is poison ivy Stanley.” Richie said shaking his head as you Stan and Eddie all crowded around some plants.

“Ok well I'm starting to get itchy now and I'm pretty sure this is not good for me.” Eddie said looking back at Richie as he started to scratch himself. It was as if his skin was crawling just from the mention of the poisonous plant. His brain couldn’t stop itself from imagining a scenario where he fell face first, mouth opened, and swallowed some of it. That would mess up his digestive tract, and possibly his lungs maybe even leading to death. Subconsciously Eddie found himself reaching in his fanny pack to take a puff of his inhaler.

“It’s in your head Eddie Spaghetti.” You pat him on the shoulder gently, though you were sort of unsure. Stanley was good at plant recognition.

“I don’t know.” Eddie seemed worried, though he put down the respirator.

“Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?” Richie asked him. You turned to look at Stan and Bill who continued to walk towards what looked like the sewers. Your stomach turned, you were wearing jellies again which weren’t made for sewer water. Bill had not said anything about going to the sewers. You grumbled angrily under your breath but continued to follow behind him.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Then you probably have crabs.” You giggled slightly at the comment made by Rich.

“That's so not funny. Tell him (Y/N).”

“Not getting involved.” You raised your hands in the air before stopping next to Stan as Richie and Bill went ahead into the sewer.

“Aren't you guys coming in?” Bill turned around looking from You to Stan to Eddie.

“Yeah, just,” you looked at Stan seeing as he was the bigger of the two boys next to you. “Give me your shoes Stanley.”

“What?”

“I’m wearing Jellies and if I go in there with these on, I actually will get an infection.” You looked at him with large pleading eyes. He sucked his teeth at your expression before looking away and back into the sewers.

“Then what will I -”

“My jellies.” You smiled at him. He blanched for a few moments, looking around at the other losers. No one made any attempt to help him and he sighed.

“Oh, for fucks sake, fine.” You beamed as he grumbled swear words under his breath. He hands you the white converse and then steps on top of your blue jellies so that his feet aren’t touching the ground. He was marveled by how small your feet were. He might have well been standing on the floor, the jellies didn’t support any harsh movements.

“Stan the Man!” You say teasingly as you put his shoes on and walk inside of the sewer. Stan lets out another loud audible sigh as he watched his white converse turn into a murky grey. You were stumbling in the too large shoes, unable to walk properly. Richie grabs your arm to keep you from falling face forward into the water, and his other hand holds a flashlight. Eddie doesn’t miss this and smirked to himself before coming back to the problem at hand.

“That's greywater.” Eddie said looking at you all moving around inside the sewer. You didn’t have a task, so you hung back next to Richie, giving Bill the occasional glance.  

“What the hell is greywater?” Richie asked.

“It's basically piss and shit.” Eddie continued, as Stan watched you ruin his converse. He wondered how he was going to explain the mess to his Dad. “So, I'm just telling you…” Eddie watched as you took the flashlight from Richie's hand. “You guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee.”

“Are you serious?” You asked feeling slightly grossed out. You took note, that Bill wasn’t being very talkative today, maybe it had something to do with the searching for Georgie. Or maybe it was the recurring arguments with his parents. Suddenly, Richie picks up a stick and fishes in the water for some soggy material before pointing it in Eddies direction.

“Doesn't smell like caca to me, Señor.” You laughed out loud at Richie, who turned to you with a mischievous smile on his face.

“O-o-okay I can smell it from here.” Eddie backed away, his hand on Stan's upper arm.

“It's probably just your breath wafting back into your face.” Richie added.

“Have you ever heard of a staph infection?”

“I'll show you a staph infection.” Richie shoved the stick towards Eddie again causing you to laugh more.

“That's so unsanitary.” Stan muttered, uncomfortable on top of your jellies. He would never be able to understand how you could walk around in those shoes all day.

“These...” Eddie paused taking in a small breath. “You guys are like swimming in a toilet bowl right now.” Eddie continued, not letting up on his point about the dirty sewer. “Have you ever heard of listeria?

“Guys!” Bill yelled out suddenly, indicating he found something. All eyes turned to him, watching silently as he lifted a dirty sneaker. You inhaled a deep breath, fear stirring in your stomach.

“Shit.” Richie commented, his saucer eyes growing larger. “Don't tell me that's…”

“No. Georgie was wearing galoshes.” Bill responded, and you exhaled in relief before another question plagued you.

“Whose sneaker is it?” Bill opened it up to show you the initials inside.

“It's Betty Ripsom’s.”

“Shit!” Richie said again.

“Shit, oh god, oh fuck” Stan was inching away from the sewer opening, his face turning sickly green. He was nervous, you all were. There was a missing girls shoe in the fucking sewer. You were all only 16, and you weren’t the fucking scooby gang.

“I don't like this.”

“How do you think Betty feels,” Richie snapped suddenly, “going around these tunnels with only one fucking shoe.”

“What if she's still here?” You whispered quietly, looking down the tunnel. Wondering if maybe Betty Ripsom was feeling as alone right now as you found yourself feeling at night.

“My mom will have an aneurysm if she finds out we were playing down here.” All the boys looked at Eddie, but you suddenly felt a pull. You started to slowly walk past Bill, to hopefully find the lonely Betty Ripsom, a kindred spirit. Find me, find me, find me. Echoed in your head as your heart began to beat rapidly. You could have sworn you saw a singular red balloon floating in the dark. “I'm serious.” You squinted still inching forward slightly towards the balloon. You hadn’t noticed how far you were going.

“(Y/N)?” Stan said your name suddenly and you stopped moving. Your lashes fluttered as you turned around to look at the boys. You wanted to ask if they had seen the strange balloon as well.

“If I were Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me. Georgie too.” Bill said without stutter. You glanced at the balloon one more time wondering its significance. The balloon popped causing you all to jump and you quickly walked back to the group. The sewer was now accompanied by an eerie feeling, the balloon almost like an omen. You weren’t the only one who felt it, it had creeped the entire group out.

“What if I don't want to find them?” Richie said, and Bill looked crestfallen. Balloons didn’t just find their way into sewers. “I mean, no offense, Bill, but I do not want to end up like,” he paused considering his next words, “I don't want to go missing either.” Only that wasn’t Richie's real fear, he had seen you inching farther down the sewer pipe towards the impossible balloon, though he had chosen not to say anything. He was afraid your hero complex and curiosity would cause you to be one of the next missing kids. And Richie wouldn’t survive that.

“He has a point.” Eddie said.

“You too?” You looked at Eddie pointedly, the voices in your head quieting down enough to engage in conversation. You wanted to continue down the sewage pipe, find Georgie and Betty Ripsom and bring them back to the souls that were lost when they went missing.

“It's summer.” Eddie looked away from your prying eyes guiltily. “We're supposed to be having fun. This isn't fun. This is scary,” Eddie shuddered glancing once more at where the balloon had been “and disgusting.”

“Guys, what if it was one of us who went missing? Wouldn’t you do anything to find them again?” The 3 fearful boys looked away. “I know I would, I know Bill would.” They didn’t say anything, choosing to stay quiet. “Richie?” Richie looked up, making eye contact with you finally. He thought of you going missing, and his stomach churned.

“Fuck,” he sighed “yeah, I would.”

“Okay so -” Your voice cut off as a splash was heard. The losers club all glanced at each other before scattering to the edge of the sewer. You gasped when you saw Ben bleeding out into the small river.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Richie asked.

“Ben!” You screeched running down towards him. “Benjamin Hanscom, what happened?” The boys all look at you then at each other, since when did you have friends outside of them and Beverly? How did you even know this kid?

“Since when does she have a life outside of us.” Richie grumbled to Stan who just shrugged.

“Richie!” You yelled, and Richie jogs down towards you. “Lift him up, we’re taking him to the pharmacy.” Richie groans causing you the glare at him. “All of us!”

“Wait,” Stan whined as you shifted Ben and tried to get Richie to carry him, “(Y/N), wait, my shoes!”

The pharmacy visit, was to say the in the least, frustrating. Richie and Stan argued for a good 10 minutes about who would have to drive Ben, eventually it was settled on Richie since his car was already banged up. You had forgotten to give Stan his converse back and he had scolded you for allowing the bottom of his feet to blister. When you finally reached the pharmacy, Richie and yourself helped Ben out before letting him sit on the ground, he wasn’t speaking his eyes wide with trauma. What a terrible way to start life in a new town. Eddie had ranted on and on about Aids not realizing that he was making Ben feel worse, the poor kid didn’t want Aids. It was bad enough that Bowers had managed to carve a small H into Ben’s stomach, if he’d given him Aids on top of that. Well, then his luck was more than just sour.

“But how do you amputate waist?” Eddie had asked, but you yelled at him to shut up telling him that he was going to give Ben nightmares. Eddie was annoyed but continued to try and play doctor until Billy suggested that they go buy something from the pharmacy. You volunteered to go with them since you had money on you, leaving Ben with Richie but not before telling Richie not to say anything crude or insulting. You guys had been picking up different supplies when Beverly strolled into the pharmacy. She saw you and walked over.

“New kid outside looks like someone killed him.” Beverly spoke as she watched you counting the money in your hand. “What happened to him?” You’d barely looked up when she approached you. You knew her smell and voice anywhere and it made it impossible for her to catch you off guard.

“Bowers.” You responded shaking your head. The boys had stopped scouring for supplies, instead all turning to gawk at Bev. “What are you doing here, you’re supposed to be waiting for me at the house.”

“You took too long.” She shrugged before looking at the boys behind you and smiling. They all turned into cherry tomatoes. “You’re going to spend all that money on supplies?”

“I had planned on it.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you looked at her, she had a mischievous twinkle in her eye and you suddenly understood how Richie and she became friends. Devious bastards. “No Bev.”

“Yes Bev.” She smiled at you before taking the money from your hand and shoving it into your back pocket. She took you by the hand and dragged you over to Mr. Keene, who looked up with interest. The boys all stared in wonder, they rarely saw you do something that you considered morally wrong. But Bev, well she brought out that dark curiosity you had. “I like your glasses, Mr. Keene. You look just like Clark Kent.” She spoke with a slight lilt in her voice, wrapping an arm around you with a smile on her face. A spark seemed to flare on his face as he watched you both.

Two girls touching, what a show. You thought sarcastically.

“I don’t know about that,” You said under your breath. Bev gave your shoulder a light squeeze and you had to stop yourself from biting her hand.

“Why thank you.” He responded.

“Can we try them on?” Your eyebrows spiked, the last thing you wanted was to have his glasses on your face. Who knew what perverted things he watched with them.

“You guys sure do everything together.” He licked his lips and you did everything you could not to turn over and hurl. He reminded you a little too much of Bowers when he was on a hunt to satisfy his primal urges. You didn’t know what it was about some men that made them think all woman belonged to them, or lived to entertain them. “Sure.” Beverly smiled as she took them from Mr. Keene’s hands, you grimaced at the look of pure lust that overcame his face. Bev was the first one to try them on, smiling as she did so. Then she turned to you, touching your shoulders with a gentleness that she knew Mr. Keene would love. She took them off herself and slid them onto you, touching your face in the process. From the corner of your eye you could see Mr. Keene breathing heavily at the action. You had never thought shoulders to be sexual before but obviously Mr. Keene believed otherwise. Bev smiled, leaning in and brushing your nose with the tip of her thumb. Your face scrunched up in agitation, through to Mr. Keene you looked sexually frustrated. Bev was way too smart for this, but after all those years with her father she knew no better way to a dirty mans attention. If they wanted to play games with her she would play games with them.   

“What do you think?” She asked Mr. Keene whose entire face was now red. He stared at Beverly, not sparing you much of a glance since the show was over.

“Well how about that, you looked just like Lois Lane.”

“Really?” She smiled, before reaching towards you again and taking them off your face in the same slow movement. “Well, here you go.” She went to hand them to him but not before knocking over some of his supplies. “Shoot, I'm so sorry.” You turned to the boys and signaled for them to take the supplies and run out of there. In the distraction Beverly also took a pack of cigarettes, you made a horrified noise and Beverly smirked.

“It's okay.” Mr. Keene said, with the same disgusting smile. You shook your head before taking Beverly’s hand in yours and walking her out of the pharmacy. “Wait, Beverly –“ You didn’t give her the chance to turn around as you swung the door open and dragged her out.

“He’s gross.” You stated, sparing Bev a disapproving glance.

“Most men are, that’s their downfall.” She smiled. You both stood back and watched as the boys bickered slightly over the proper way to care for Benjamin. The moments that passed were silent and you found yourself lost in your own thoughts. You knew what Bev had said about a man’s downfall was a joke, but you couldn’t help but revel in the truth of that. Offer a man a bite and he might try to take the entire sandwich. Your boys’ parents might have been a lot of things, and none of them good, but at least all their children had turned out to be gentleman. Your eyes landed on Richie and you chuckled slightly. At least in one way or another. Bev nudging you with her elbow when she followed your eyes. “So, Richie?”

“Uh, yeah, Richie.” Your eyebrows raised as she wiggled hers. “Not this again, we’re just friends.”

“Friends who cuddle.”

“We cuddle!” You yelled slightly louder than you would have liked, causing the boys to all turn back to look at you.

“I’d love to see that.” Richie spoke up eyeing you and Bev. “Girl on Girl action.” You rolled your eyes, of course Tozier would.

“Beep Beep Richie.” Stan interrupted causing Richie to chuckle. Bev smirked at you and your cherry red face before making her way over to the bustling scene with you in tow.

“Are you okay, that looks like it hurts.” She asked Ben whose expression softened on seeing her.

“No, I'm good. I just fell.”

“Yeah, right into Henry Bowers.” Richie smirked, also noticing Ben's lovestruck expression.

“Shut it, R-R-Richie!”  Bill interrupted clearly embarrassed, and that’s when it hit you.

Shit, fuck, super fucking shit. Bill and Ben both like Beverly. Fucking hell. This is not going to end well under any intents and purposes. You thought.

“Why? It's the truth.”

“It’s cool,” You interrupted, “I already filled her in.”

“You sure they got The Right Stuff to fix you up?”

“You know w-w-w-w-we'll take care of him.” Bill spoke smiling softly at Beverly. “How’d y-you get a chance to d-distract Mr. Keene long en-en-enough for us to leave?”  

“We made out.” Beverly said, and your eyes widened in horror. “Mr. Keene is a big fan of girl on girl action.”

“Woah.” Richie mumbled as all the boys now stared at you in interest. Though sexuality wasn’t a topic that they really brought up, all the boys had their assumptions about yours. Bi, maybe? That was the long running bet.

“Yeah, my tongue was basically shoved down her throat.” Bev nudged you, as she watched Richie to see if he grew jealous. No such expression ever came, he seemed intrigued. Richie settled with the fact that if he lost your love to Beverly he could cope. You guys had crossed the line of friendship when you’d begun showering together. “She loved every second of it.”

“That,” you paused glancing around you, “That did not happen!” You were sure your face was on fire. “Beverly, tell the truth!”

“It could.” She shrugged, laughing at the different expressions. Richie’s especially. “Maybe I'll see you losers around.” She spoke to the guys.

“You're not coming over tonight.” You pouted, and she shook her head. “You said we’d spend the night together.” The boy’s expression once again became curious.

“Woah.” Richie said again.

“Not like that you fuck!” You yelled at them, embarrassed. As Beverly began to back away, Bill snapped into action.

“Yeah, we were maybe thinking about going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow,” He rushed out, if you want to…” he paused looking at you, “Come?” Beverly opened her mouth to say something, but you were quick to respond.

“She’ll be there!” Bev smiled, shaking her head at you. A smile plagued Bills face as he nodded before walking back to the group. “You want a ride home?”

“Nah, I rather walk.” You pouted again. “Plus, you should stick with your boys.” You turned around looking at the group Bill had just joined. They were arguing, and bustling about. You couldn’t help but smile as your eyes landed on a laughing Richie. Bev noticed this but decided against saying anything, for now.

“They are my boys aren’t they.” You said looking back a smile still on your face. “Soon they’ll be yours too Beverly Marsh.” She shrugged as she whipped out a cigarette, your face scrunched up in disgust as you lunged for it, but she ran off laughing. “Lung cancer isn’t attractive Bevy!” You shook your head as she flashed you a middle finger, before turning back to join your boys.

Taglist!!!

Someone sent me an ask about being apart of my taglist, I answered privately and then lost the name. So if your name isn’t on here I am so sorry and please ask again. 

@glue-lamp @apartofthelosersclub @mikoalabearwrites @fightmebub @toziers-girl @firstfannypack @mysticalreadingnerd @imaginethis-st @snarkpunsandsarcasm @neonshock @mari-melancholy @teenwolf2424 @michaels-hands

[babygirl06301]

Spike Analysis - “Lover’s Walk”

“Lover’s Walk,” bitches! Of the Spike-centric episodes we’ve had in the past, I wouldn’t say that this episode is the absolute, hands-down, best…but it’s pretty fucking good. Let’s start this by acknowledging that Spike is hella cute throughout this entire thing. Did you do that? Good.

So, we’ve got Spike. We’ve got Buffy. We’ve got Angel. We’ve got marshmallows and holy water grenades. I’m gonna be honest here, I don’t really know where to start with Spike’s development in this episode. I’m not going to go through it scene by scene necessarily, but I’ll try and keep you up to date with what scene I’m thinking of when I’m talking about one thing or the other.

Alright. Last we heard, Spike and Dru had left town after the whole Angelus thing. Spike said he’d never come back. Well, that didn’t fucking happen, did it? Please notice that in this episode, he said again that he wouldn’t come back to Sunnydale. Spike’s always been a shit liar, ya know? Dru’s broken up with him because he’s too soft (which…did she see him when she sired him? Sensitive as fuck, that one. Cute as hell, but still). Therefore, Spike’s back in Sunnydale. He knocks over the sign, which seems to become a recurring theme for him, and he’s drunk as shit. Of course, later in Angel, he mentions that it isn’t so easy for vampires to get drunk, so he must have been smashed. Which is, apparently, the only kind of “smashed” he’s been able to get since Dru left him.

I mentioned in the “Becoming: Part 2” analysis, and will continue to mention it numerous more times, but seeing Spike not be William the Bloody is always great. I much prefer Spike the Sensitive over Spike: Guy Who Killed Two Slayers. But this episode is like…bad. You know what I mean? Like, he’s very distraught over Dru and it’s kind of strange. Not in a bad way because I’d rather him weep and throw dolls than brood (sorry, Angelcakes).

Sidebar: that scene were Spike passes out in the outdoor area at Angel’s mansion and his hand catches on fire in the morning? Did you guys know that James did that stunt himself, but like, you’re supposed to put it out within two seconds because the protective layer (that keeps your hand from actually catching fire) will wear off? But James thought it’d be funny to let it go a bit longer, so he burnt the literal shit out of his hand, but he hid it from everyone because it was his last shot and he was afraid that, if they ever asked him back again, they wouldn’t let him do his own stunts anymore?

Anyway. So then Spike kills the shopkeeper and kidnaps Willow and Xander so Willow can do the love spell for him. That scene in the factory where Spike sort of confides in Willow is the best shit ever. Jumping a little forward here, one of the key components of Spike’s character development in this episode is that he’s interacting (again) with Buffy, but also with Willow and Angel. And by interacting, I mean that he’s not trying to kill them. Spike hadn’t really interacted with Angel in a semi-positive way before this episode. It was typically with Angelus, and otherwise, his contact with Angel was violent. I know he did threaten to kill Willow a few times, but I think his focus was more on Dru than anything else at that point. Although, I don’t think he didn’t kill anyone because “I want Dru back,” I think he didn’t kill anyone because “…nah.”

Back to Willow. Spike talking to her about Dru and how much she hurt him is ***super cute!!!*** But beyond that, Spike basically said that he’d rather die than not be with Dru. Die. Again, like I said in the previous post, Spike’s character is drenched in paradox, but a vampire’s whole goal (on a basic level) is to survive. So? But all that makes sense within the realm of his character because Dru was his first relationship. Isn’t that strange to think about? Not his first love, but his first requited love. I’m sure we all have some semblance of an idea of how people usually react when their first relationships end. Let’s keep going because, aside from being adorable, that scene doesn’t speak a whole lot to his development.

I have conflicting feelings about the situation with Joyce in the kitchen. Like, on the one hand, I don’t think Spike would kill her, but on the other, he’s still evil. I mentioned in the last post that Spike has a certain respect for mother’s (based on his past), but I’m not sure that that would affect his animalistic instinct to kill. Maybe in this episode, though, it would. Because he came back to Sunnydale to kill Angel, seemingly, but he didn’t do anything to anybody the entire time besides knocking Xander out. I think the explanation with the kitchen scene is just that Spike needed a mom. He needed someone to be on his side for a little while.

Okay, Spuffy flag on the field. Is that a good sports thing to say? I don’t care enough about athletics to try for a better one. So, we remember Buffy locking Angelus out of her house in season 2, right? Because he’s evil, blah blah. And we remember her inviting Spike into her house so they could discuss taking Angelus down. “Lover’s Walk” is the first episode in which Angel returns to Buffy’s home since he came back from whatever hell dimension he was in. And, as soon as Buffy saw him there, she invited him back in. Because the circumstances had changed. Well, excuse me, but I think after the brief truce her and Spike had, the circumstances were well fucking changed, so why didn’t she disinvite him from her house? She could’ve thought he wouldn’t come back? No. She’s never trusted Spike, why in God’s name would she think the vampire notorious for killing two Slayers would stay out of her life? She knew she could take him/he wasn’t dangerous? Bullshit. To his face, yeah, but we’ve got substantial evidence (even into seasons 6 and 7) that Buffy is afraid of William the Bloody on some level. And if nothing else, shouldn’t she have locked him out just to protect her mother?

It’s just fishy to me, that’s all I’m saying. Not that it’s inherently Spuffy, maybe she’s just lazy, but that’s all I’m saying. Let’s move onto what will come to be known as the Magic Box. We get that awesome shot of Buffy, Angel, and Spike ready to fight like hell. Including “Tabula Rasa,” this is the first of two times that Spike has been trapped in the magic shop because he pissed off a big bad (The Mayor/loan shark) and his vampire minions.

So, these three fighting together lends itself really nicely to including Spike into the Sunnydale scene. He never really did become a Scooby (minus, maybe, the months after Buffy’s death), but those few moments were sort of like an “I could get used to this” thing for the audience.

Be kind rewind here for a second: the speech. You know the one I mean. The “you’ll never be friends” speech. One of my all-time favorite things about Spike is that he’s literally always right (if it doesn’t involve himself). Here’s the thing: Spike seems to feel very comfortable in the fact that he’s a hopeless romantic. Old habits die hard, I guess, but that’s really strange. Because we can see, especially in the following season, that he hates feeling as though he’s less than a man or that he isn’t “bad” or isn’t dangerous. Anything that makes him seem weak, he hates. Now, being a romantic doesn’t imply weakness, but Buffy sure fucking thinks so. She said he was pathetic, he was a loser, whatever. I’m sure some of that was to piss him off, but I’m also sure some of that was meant to act as irony within the writing because what the fuck does she think she’s been doing with Captain Forehead over here?

Moving on from that, it’s honestly such a good bit on love. I’ve heard literally so many people say that it’s the best quote on love they’ve ever heard. For someone who’s known for being shit at poetry…

I have one last quick thing to say about The Speech, and then we’ll wrap up. I kind of love the theme the show took with Spike and the symbolism of blood (I’m referring to the “Love isn’t brains, children. It’s blood” line). I can think of at least three times within the space of the show that Spike has reiterated the importance or the purpose of blood for one reason or the other. It makes sense because he’s a vampire, but it’s more than that. It’s like it’s some holy thing that holds a lot meaning and weight, like it’s sacred to him. I guess Spike has a bit of a history of exaggerating his feelings with things, but it’s interesting.

We’ve only got a bit left here. So, we can tell that the fighting made Spike feel a lot more confident in himself. Probably Drusilla implying that he’d gone soft and then leaving him made him feel emasculated and staking a few vamps was the antidote. One thing I want to quickly point out there: it’s almost like a bit of foreshadowing for his arc with the chip, right? Like, it’s pretty obvious that as long as Spike can kill something, he’s a happy camper. Then he says that thing about torturing Dru until she likes him again. And then he says what is probably my favorite quote from this episode, other than his speech on love: “Love’s a funny thing.” The reason I love it so much is because that’s pretty much Spike’s character in a nutshell. I mean, all the things he’s done or been put through for love is pretty fucking astounding. Not to mention, this sums up basically all the Scoobies’ lives at the moment of this episode. Yeah, love’s pretty damn quirky when you catch your significant other making out with a friend’s significant other and then you fall through some stairs and get impaled with rebar.

Last thing I want to point out in this episode: Buffy breaks up with Angel (for a time, anyway). She says she can fool everyone but not herself…or Spike. All I’m sayin’ is: some things never change.

So, that’s it! A little bit longer than “Becoming: Part 2,” and I got off track a lot, but hey. I’m not exactly sure which episode I’m going to analyze next. Season 4 is very fractured when it comes to Spike. He’s got a lot of really important revelations: the chip, being attracted to Buffy (when Faith was in her body), realizing he could hurt a demon, adjusting to working with the Scoobies for money. But all that shit is in separate episodes. And I don’t think I’ll be able to talk about some of the better Spike episodes like “Something Blue” because there wasn’t really development, just some really cringy kissing noises. So, I think what I’m going to end up doing is maybe a post or two where I combine a couple episodes and talk about them and, if there’s still something left over to talk about, I’ll tack it onto whatever the last season 4 post is. Or make a bulk, season 4 post. I dunno, but I’ll figure that out later. Hope you enjoyed my rambles!