#except Eddie is searching for who killed his father so he can thank them

[hyperfixatingoneddiemunson]

What do you mean this isn’t a Steddie pirate AU?

We’ve got Eddie pushing Steve up against a wall

Eddie invading Steve’s personal space

And Eddie ending up horrifically injured but alive, exactly like what happened in the show.

[meryamthebadassbitch]

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘑𝘦𝘳𝘬 || 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳

Soon on Wattpad~

"Do you have one of the Parasites like your dad used to have?" asked Mrs. Chen the girl who paid for the snacks, eyes wide she shook her head in disagreement before stepping out of the store

PARASITE?!

"it's not my fault, dad used to call you that man just don't kill her she can give us a lot of free food you know and you can have extra brains when they always rob her poor store?" "Fine, we'll let it slide" "what do you wanna do?" "We can do whatever WE want" chuckling slightly she nodded making her way upstairs to the rooftop, sitting at the edge with venom beside her they both ate the Pack of chocolate in silence, sure, she was terrified finding out about a symbiote living inside her body just like her father after protecting herself from some scientist, but for these past years she got used to it and they were more like best friends and if something happened to Venom it's like happening to her.

𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-

Making her way toward the bathroom, attempting to hide from those Men but a voice inside her head made her scream in fear, hiding inside one of the stalls she stared into nothing but emptiness staying quiet as if a serial killer was following her, shaking in fear she tried not to sob out loud by putting her hand on her mouth a drop of a tear falling to the ground as the 10-year-old girl cried in silence with her hands still shaking, the sound of the bathroom stalls being slammed open made her heart stop beating as she started praying for her life, she was going to die that's for sure.

The next thing she knew was the lock breaking and her being pulled harshly by 2 men, screaming in fear she tried biting their hands off but the guns aimed in her head was worse, in a blink of an eye black tentacles came out of her arms and stabbed both of them in the heart, a pool of blood surrounded her as she watched in fear at what she has just done, she just killed two men trying to kidnap her, blood on her white shoes and arms as she tried to open the door and make her way out of this hell hole, but it was the same thing instead this time a group pointed their guns at her as she looked around in search of a place to run away, giving up she sat on the ground putting her hands in the air as told letting the 'police' handcuff her, she's just a 10-year-old girl what possibly could she do?

"mom! please I am begging you to tell them to let me go, we were supposed to be having a girls' night! I promise I didn't kill those men something came out of my arm and-" she couldn't finish her words, Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down her cheeks as she begged her mother for help with a high pitched voice, Anne on the other side stared at her with a guilty look before shaking her head, staring at her in disbelieve she was brutally pulled by the handcuffs away giving her mother one last look.

Did she stay in an Asylum for 8 years without seeing her 'mother' and outside? yes sadly she did, did she get out of the asylum once? no, she never did and that was driving her crazy she was the only one in here and everyone was afraid of her, this place wasn't like any other asylum they brought people with superpowers here, like Eleven from stranger things except Mery didn't have Telekinesis she had Venom.

Sitting in the chair defeatless with an emotionless look on her face, her hands tied to the table, as always, she stared at Anne straight in her eyes "Mery-" "hey doctor, can you please open these handcuffs and let me go back to my room before I do something?" she finally said looking straight into the camera about to transform into the big giant monster when a syringe was on her neck preventing her from doing so, 'how dare she says my nickname' she thought looking straight into her eyes after 8 years of not seeing each other how would you feel and how can she still manage to say her nickname, especially when your own mother is the reason you're looked in here "I Hate you and you don't deserve to be called a mother!" she yelled out struggling from their grip, black tentacles came out of her back as she grabbed every single scientist killing them with no mercy, "Venom, let's get the hell out of here" her voice deadly as she spoke "Copy, you're the boss" just as Anne described she looked just like her father, huge teeth, white eyes, and a long tongue.

𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-

"Don't open that door"

"Bitch, Don't order me to do something because you will die waiting?" she said with the usual level of sarcasm before taking off her apron making her way toward the door, what was shitty about this house was it didn't have a peephole, rolling her eyes she opened the door staring at the group in front of her "May I help you?" asked the girl in confusion to why the Avengers are in front of her apartment with a raised eyebrow the Black haired girl was about to close the door when black widow finally said a word after 10 seconds of silence "we need to talk to you?" "Listen, I don't have time to deal with superhero shit I've had enough" "please?" sighing she pushed the door fully letting them in sitting on the couch in front of them with her legs crossed "what?" "Can you introduce us to who you were talking to?" asked Captain America looking at her, raising her eyebrows once again, it was a habit sometimes she bites her nails "were you listening to us the whole time?" "no-" "Jesus, y'all are so famous and busy with superhero shit to the point where you don't understand a joke, Venom can you come out please?" annoyed, a black face appeared beside hers, that was the Parasite living inside her body?

"don't touch it, everyone this is Venom my best buddy and a parasite living inside my body, Her favorite food is brains and chocolate and we both kill robbers every day" putting a fake smile on her face she could see the look on their eyes, Bruce wanting to touch it so badly but stopped when Meryam sent him a look of disagreement, "alright this it, you guys can go, it was lovely meeting you, y'all are awesome superheroes and bye-bye!" "would you like to come with us we need your help, please?" asked Thor holding his hammer, glancing at Venom they both nodded at the same time, they were partners in crime anyways.

"We will but I'm coming alone, see ya at the Tower!" smiling she slammed the door shut

"Can you imagine Thor the god of thunder asking me to come with them, that is awesome right?" "not as awesome as us" nodding with a grin she grabbed her pocket knife charging the gun just in case tying her hair into a bun, putting on the mask Meryam grabbed the bag making her way out of the room.

"Hey miss Chen came to have some supplies?" stated the girl making her way toward the snack session she was probably the only customer here, the threatening sound of another robber echoed around the store as he pointed his gun at the poor woman, "That guy?" "yes bestie, free food for you tonight?" she said making her way toward the man, grabbing his wrist she punched him straight in the jaw, "Mask!" in a blink of an eye the same monster Mrs. Chen saw a long time ago was in front of her expect it was a woman, and that woman was Eddie Brock's daughter, Biting his head off she paid for the snacks before making her way out "night, thanks for the free snack!"

(venom ate the man, duh)

"This walk is boring!" "I know but we're almost there don't worry" "I Miss the Loser" "yeah, same he was the best dad" "and best Host, you both are the best" "aw thanks Venom you're the best too" a soft smile rose on her lips, The world was a better place when she smiled to Venom and he promised to Eddie he would keep her safe, thank god, she had her earphones on so people wouldn't call her crazy for talking by herself, "Jesus how many floors in this Tower?" "93"

"Excuse me is Tony Stark here, he said I can meet him here?" politely asking the blonde woman who was holding a little girl in her hand she took off her mask not to scare her, they didn't seem to recognize her right? "She's probably his wife" the voice of the symbiote echoed around her head as she nodded, "oh yes you must be Meryam, you seem kinda Familiar?" the blonde woman asked her, her heart stopped beating as soon as she said the last words, "o-oh really, who?" "oh never mind, you're so pretty by the way, I should probably go take Morgan to sleep Tony is having a meeting with the rest and they're waiting for you" "Yeah thank you?" "Pepper call me Pepper dear" nodding she waved at the little girl who had a cute smile on her face before making her way to where Pepper pointed

"Hey Old man, you wanted to meet us?" the same sound they heard 30 minutes ago echoed around the room earning their attention, chuckling at how startled they looked Meryam tried to hold her laugh while Venom was grinning evilly on the other side, "Ahh miss Brock come in" "it's Meryam, Anthony" okay that surely got him annoyed she could see how he rolled his eyes, sitting down on one of the chairs she looked around greeting the rest with a straight look.

"Tell us more about yourself?" not wanting to tell them her whole story, she shook her head with an emotionless look on her face "there's nothing more to know about me, I lived 13 years alone that's it, my life is useless anyways I only have Venom and kill robbers nothing more interesting?" one thing they learned about her was how fast she changed her emotions, 5 seconds ago she was trying not to laugh and now a deadpan look on her face. Pietro didn't trust her, not even a single bit and that was why a glare was attached to his stupid face

"So Meryam we're going to be on a mission for these past days and since you have nothing to do, you're going to catch the robbers around the city and take Morgan to school" tearing her gaze away from Pietro who was still glaring she blinked slightly trying to process what he just said, "excuse me, am I getting paid for that?" "yes" "fine, I'll do it, and will you stop glaring at me like I am some target?" her Black eyes met his as she spoke with gritted teeth's, anger rushing through her body Wanda slapping his shoulder before apologizing to her "I am so sorry Meryam-" "it's alright Wanda don't apologize in his place, he just needs to stop and do it all by himself if he's a true man, good night everyone" with that she made her way out of the place trying to calm her nerves down

Anger Issues

"Ohh she got you good" Teased Sam the twin who was still fuming in anger, rage thrummed through his veins as he swallowed down his frustration sending him a harsh look, "shut up birdy" with that he was out of sight just before Clint could say something

"oh these two are not going to be friends or work together, it's probably something worse"

[anxiouslymalicious]

Losers Club Plus One Part 10

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series

Read the previous part here or go here for the full series masterlist.

A/N: Hi there! It’s been a while, I know, and I’m truly sorry! There has been so much going on in my life and I simply lost my motivation to write. However, thanks to a very dear person, I have regained said motivation and I am here to give y’all some content! The next part is already being worked on and I hope to publish it very soon!

Anyway, this is about 3k words long. I hope you enjoy!

“Bill, we’re at the library. Where are you?” Mike asked the second Bill answered his phone. The incomplete Losers Club Plus One was gathered around him, trying to listen in on what they were talking about. To say that they were worried was an understatement. But the fact that Bill had picked up was relieving, to say the least. It meant that he was still with them. It meant that IT hadn’t gotten to him. It meant that he was more or less safe. It meant that Bill was still alive and not doing anything too stupid.

“IT took a-a little k-k-kid- IT k-killed a little k-kid right in fucking front of me.” Bill sounded distraught, heartbroken. He had been crying, probably still was crying. Y/N, who was close enough to Mike to listen in on the conversation, especially felt a strong urge in her to just hug the man and tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Because it really wasn’t. But Bill thought differently. It was his fault that Georgie was taken by IT, Georgie had been taken because he hadn’t been there. And Dean, the little kid, had been killed because Bill hadn’t been fast enough. It was Bill’s fault, in his mind, and it would always be.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Mike jumped out of his seat. He had known Bill when he was a kid, he knew that Bill often made stupid decisions, and Mike was sure that Bill’s want to protect the Losers from IT was kicking in just then. If there was one thing each of them remembered about Bill, it was his unintentional heroism as he was trying to protect his friends.

“Look, just come back to the library, we can talk about the plan-“

“I’m gonna go kill IT. I don’t want any of you to get near IT. I’m gonna kill IT.” Bill said through gritted tears before hanging up, falling into a quick jog towards Silver. It was only a matter of seconds until he and Silver were fast enough to beat the devil. And the devil, they would beat.

“He’s gonna fight IT alone. Alone!” Mike said, almost as though he was concluding the very short call he and Bill just had. Mike was scared. Not only for Bill who was driven to do the stupidest things, all by Pennywise, but he was also scared for the rest of his friends. The people who had once gone down the drain with him, explored the sewers with him, fought IT with him. But most importantly, he felt scared for the new generation. Because if they failed now, if the ritual didn’t work and all of them were to end up dead, what hope did the children have left? IT would continue to attack children, eat children, tear families apart.

“What?” Richie mumbled more to himself than anyone else. And, almost as though he had the same train of thought as Mike, he looked at his daughter. The girl he had watched as she grew up and had taken care of nearly every day of her life. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he thought of the things IT would do should he and his friends fail to kill IT once and for all. Or, should she be able to escape Derry, the things she would have to live through as she got back home to LA. Would she be able to provide for herself? Who could she go to once he was gone? How would she handle all the paperwork? And oh, all those moments ahead of her that he was going to miss. Graduations, relationships, first jobs, first travels, all the accomplishments and big events in her life that he would miss. The moments that would fill her with pride but also shatter her heart if he wasn’t there.

Y/N looked up at Richie. Her mind was blank with pure worry. She hadn’t thought further than what would happen to Bill just yet, but maybe it was for the better. Maybe it was better that she didn’t worry her head with too many consequences and the horrors of IT, the true horrors of IT that she had yet to face.

“It’s- it’s about the group. The ritual doesn’t work without the group. Doing it together was why it worked.” Mike’s fear was growing, steadily consuming him. Like a shadow covering the little light of hope, he had left after noticing that the remainder of his friends had come to the library. He had felt so hopeful when he saw all of their faces, despite the horrid circumstances, in the library, knowing that they had gotten their tokens, knowing that they would face IT with him. He had trusted Bill to come back as well, he knew that Big Bill was known to stick to his friends. Leaving them to fend for themselves was not like Bill. Not at all. This wasn’t Big Bill talking, this was Bill, the author with the childhood trauma, talking. The man who had no idea how to properly end a book. They needed to show him how it’s done.

Y/N was gnawing at her thumb. It was sore and it stung a little, but it provided her comfort. Not much, but every single bit of comfort was more than welcome. Eddie saw, and pushed her arm down, hoping it would pull her out of her thoughts and get her to stop hurting herself. A million arguments as to why she shouldn’t do that, shouldn’t nibble at her nails when she was nervous, ran through his mind, he was ready to spill them out, but he bit his tongue. Y/N surely didn’t need that right now. She needed someone to take care of her. She needed her father.

With anxious eyes, Eddie searched for Richie.

Richie, lost in his thoughts and fears, wasn’t one to quickly notice. He didn’t even properly listen in on what the Losers were talking about. He heard Ben speak. Voice raspy, heavy with worry. Then Bev. Her voice was airy, light like she didn’t want anyone to hear her words because she didn’t want them to be true.

Richie looked up. He noticed that he hadn’t heard either of his loves speak up in a while. His gaze landed on Eddie immediately.

The man had slung one arm very awkwardly around his daughter, almost like Eddie wasn’t sure of his role in that particular moment, nor did he seem very confident with it. Both Eddie and Y/N were looking at Richie with raised brows and huge eyes. They resembled a pair of helpless puppies in a way.

With a few quick strides, Richie reached the pair and pulled his little girl close to him. Y/N leaned against her father. It felt strangely foreign and yet so natural to be so close to him. Her whole body seemed to still be a little confused with what was going on, how to feel about Richie, how to act around him. But Y/N knew him. And she knew his comfort. Richie was something to hold on to. Someone who had always been there. Father or not, she needed to feel at home. And that was exactly what Richie was.

Home.

“Oh, we’re not going to like this, are we?” Eddie asked, making Richie and Y/N listen in on the conversation around them again.

Y/N looked at the group. Everyone suddenly seemed much tenser. Arms crossed, faces cold, almost sorrowful looks in their eyes. Sighing, and then-

“Fuck.” Y/N whispered as something clicked in her mind. Shit was about to go down.

Derry had turned dark. Very dark. But not only the sky had lost its light, the occasional lightning on the horizon being an exception, but the town itself seemed to change. It was like the town had become one of ghosts. Barely a soul left a trace. Very few windows were lit. It was like time had stopped around Derry and no one was alive, or at least truly waking anymore. Everyone except for the Losers Club Plus One.

Y/N found herself feeling more and more like she was asleep. She couldn’t say it had been since arriving in town. Coming to Derry was strange. It was like she had started reading a book from the middle. She had a very small knowledge of what has been happening and tiny snippets of explanations were thrown her way, but nothing really. It just wasn’t enough. And the more she lost herself in the book, the twisted storylines and the even more confusing actions of the characters, the more she felt like nothing was real. Like whatever was happening wasn’t really happening and she had actually fallen asleep while reading a book.

But every book also had an ending. And not all of them were happy endings.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, squirt?” Richie broke the silence in the car. Richie and Y/N were riding together, just like Mike and Ben and Bev and Eddie. All of the pairs were ready to beat silver. Desperate to beat silver.

“Don’t know… Just… This place, I guess. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Y/N looked at her father. His face, every now and then illuminated by the scarce light of the streetlights all around Derry, seemed so young, yet he didn’t act like he usually did. Even Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier seemed to be intimidated by the situation he found himself in.

“It is. And I never missed it.”

“You couldn’t even remember it until Mike called.”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“So you didn’t want to remember Eddie either?” Y/N smirked.

“Damn you, squirt. Sometimes I really wish your mom would have swallowed.”

Silence.

“Do you think things will change when we get home? Like between us?” Y/N asked curiously. But there was a sliver of hurt in her voice. Richie sighed.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless we make a change. If you don’t want things to change between us, they don’t have to. We can act like Derry never happened when we get home. We can forget about all of this.”

It was strange hearing Richie speak all wise and serious. But it felt nice. It felt nice knowing that he took Y/N and her worries seriously and didn’t just flip them off as irrelevant.

“I don’t think I want to forget.” Y/N mumbled more to herself than to her father.

Richie’s car caught up with the other two. He hadn’t noticed how far they had fallen behind until he noticed that he could barely see the other cars before them. That’s when he sped. And it felt nice. It felt like he finally regained at least a little control over something. The last time he felt so powerless and so small compared to the world was when he entered the house on Neibolt Street for the first time. When he saw how Eddie got hurt. When he tried to reposition Eddie’s broken arm and was trapped in the same room as IT.

When the group split up for the first time.

When everything somehow shifted. And they were the world’s oldest 13-year olds.

“I can see Bill!” Y/N exclaimed, sitting up straight in her car seat, hand shooting to the seat belt buckle.

“Fuck.” Richie said as he watched Bill pushing a bike away. Was that silver? Richie was sure that he somehow had gotten his trusted bike back. How exactly, Richie didn’t know. Things had a way of coming back in Derry. But it wasn’t important. What was important was getting back together.

“Bill!” Beverly yelled, effectively stopping Bill. He turned to look at her just as he was about to enter the house.

Y/N felt like she was trapped inside a bad horror movie. The house she was facing was dark, the wood it was made of looked like it defied the laws of nature as it still stood. Y/N felt like she should feel silly, she should not be able to take this house seriously. It was the definition of a bad idea, but somehow, she felt compelled to show respect. Something about it felt intimidatingly evil. She knew the house would be no good, but she didn’t expect the place they would fight IT in to be looking as shabby yet scary.

“No!” Bill yelled back as he watched the group step closer to him and the building. They all were there. Bev, Mike, Ben, Eddie, Richie, even Y/N. Y/N, who was just a little older than they were when they first encountered IT.

Bill felt tears stinging in his eyes. He didn’t want to risk his friends’ lives again. And he for sure didn’t want to be the reason another kid had to go through what he and his friends did. Or – worst of all – he didn’t want to risk seeing another kid die because of him.

“N-no, you guys, no. I st-st-started all this. I-It’s m-my fault that y-you’re all here. Th-this curse, this fucking thing- It’s inside you all. It’s s-started growing the day I m-m-made you all go down to the barrens. Bec-cause all I cared about was finding G-Georgie. Now I’m gonna go in there, I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I c-can’t ask you to d-do this.” Bill sounded distraught.

Y/N, subliminally, wrapped her arms around her father’s right arm. Richie acknowledged it, pulling her a little closer, but remained silent as they watched Bill fall apart with the pent-up guilt. The guilt he had been living with, sometimes more and sometimes less consciously, over the past 28 years.

Bill made eye contact with Y/N. He looked at her and saw so much potential in her. So much life, so much she had yet to give the world. And he felt sorry that she was there. He felt sorry for the pain she had endured over the past hours. Physically and mentally. Bill felt sorry for the wounds and the scars that, ultimately, he was to blame for. Because none of this would have happened if he had listened to his father. If he had stopped looking for Georgie. Or better yet, if he never acted sick to avoid playing with Georgie.

Had Bill not been so selfish, Georgie would still be alive.

“But you’re not asking us.” Y/N told Bill. “We’re here because we want to be. All of us could have left, we are free to go. But we didn’t.”

Bill sighed, running a hand through his hair to push it back. It felt sweaty, his whole head felt heated and the slight breeze of evening air felt nice. Relieving.

Richie looked funnily at his daughter. A part of him was scared she might tell the story of how they almost left if it wasn’t for Stan the man. Another part of him, however, registered that she wanted to be there. Be there, at Neibolt, with them. And it scared him to death. Nausea washed over him again and Richie had a hard time not showing just that.

Beverly picked up something from the ground. Something long and rusty. To all the Losers, it seemed to make sense, seemed to be a missing piece from a puzzle. Only Y/N watched on, visibly confused.

“Well, we’re not asking you either,” Beverly replied.

“We didn’t do this alone then, Bill. So, we’re not gonna do this alone now.” Mike added.

“Losers stick together.” Ben.

A pregnant pause. The air was thick with tension as the Losers made it clear that Big Bill wouldn’t go in there on his own. Like they had proven to one another once before. When they were nothing more than a mismatched group of kids that fit together perfectly.

The only sounds outside the house were crickets chirping in the night, an occasional roll of thunder and the wind lightly blowing through the grass. No one dared to speak up. No one dared to say another word. But not all words had been spoken yet. Each Loser was just waiting for the next move. The words that would decide how they were to proceed. 

“So, does somebody wanna say something?” Eddie broke the silence. And with that, decisions were made. The Losers would, once more, stick together.

“Richie said it b-b-best when we were here last.” Bill replied, looking at Richie expectantly. Richie now looked taken aback. He couldn’t remember ever saying the right thing at the right moment. Even Y/N looked at her father, a hint of curiosity on her otherwise confused face.

“I did?” Richie asked, still not remembering. He felt the Losers’ eyes on him, all of them waiting to hear the familiar words again. Richie thought for a moment.

“I don’t wanna die?” he asked. His daughter loosened her grip on him and shrugged a little.

“Very reasonable.” She mumbled to herself.

“Not that.” Bill’s voice sounded hoarse. A few moments of silence as Richie thought again, trying to remember what he said that day.

“You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” The Losers looked at Richie, unimpressed. Y/N, however, had to fight back her giggle, but a tiny snort escaped the girl. She couldn’t hold herself back at the unexpected and yet so typical statement from the man she grew up with.

“No…” The Trashmouth whispered to himself as his friends failed to answer. The group seemed to ease up a little despite the situation they found themselves in.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown?” Bill grinned at that. The Trashmouth had found his words.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown!” Richie repeated, this time more eager. With that, the group found their spirit. The Losers Club was back and ready to kill a bitch. With that, the Losers entered the house that they knew was potentially the last place they would visit. 

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

Taglist (let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming parts!):  @whereyoustand @bellero @shockwavee @daniellajocelyn @robindoesntloveme @halefirewarrior  @ucy161 @captainshazamerica @catscrochet @gabiatthedisco @strangemaximoff @robynel @the-summer-of-39 @sammy-salamander @majorlyextra @im-justafangirl @bohemiancrue @weebishtae @nobody7102 @creativedogs @sirenjules @littlemaeve @precious-bands-love @darth-dorle @zigabrielle @ggclarissa @bat-shark-repellant @zoemassingale @avengerswon @artlovingbre  @supernovavision @eggytozier @eeemmiillyyyy​ @russian-romanova​ @isweareverythingsalright​ @supernatural3002​ @intoomuchfandoms​ @detroitbecomevenom​ @hitoshi-s-stupid-bitch​ @keeley-virgo​ @deviantly-gayy​ @thedragonofgallifrey @sycard​ @sassy-specter​ @psychosupernatural​ @jerkyheree-michaelm3ll @chros-nomsworth @princesskhy @chocolatecakeandme​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @transparentaliencookiehoagie​ @danas-wonderland​ @paige-howell-lester​ @1800kaspbrak​ @donteatmycookiesplease​ @im-justafangirl​ @finalfemm​ @tozierskaspb​ @afictionaladventure16​ @morgan-macguire​ @niallisworld​ @sp00kymonthenthusiast @blancastans​ @delicately-important-trash​ @blue-paradise-girl @im-a-rocketman​ @emiliesnowflake​ @peachysinnermon​ @whatsupsherl0ck​ @wheezy-kasp-brak​ @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @ilovetaquitosmmmm @markiismoo​ @your-not-invisible-to-me​ @oisek-si @itsarandomsparkle​ @queen-fam​ @antivscogirl @fear-epidemic​ @burner-cell​ @cait-elizabeth​ @kind-sober-and-fully-dressed-99 @srtafarrell​ @opalof @x0softxgirl0x @cocastyle​ @themagicianssister​ @adritozier​ @the-almost-perfect-username @edwardspaghedwardtozier​ @attractiveugly​ @cait-scribbles​ @bethanyb1110​ @the-almost-perfect-username @spacelesbianfanclub​ @alisoncdariel​ @pinklyrium​ @leetaemintrashnumber1​ @tozierwheelerwolfhard @stress-and-obsess​ @httpstannie​ @purple-brainstorm​ @bitch-imma-head-out @sleepygal124​ @mellorine-paprika​ @im-an-assho1e​ @vergassdottir @brooke1419​ @shherlxck​ @lauren-novak​ @increasinglygeeky​ @babyyydalis​ @hotgod-amess​ @queen1054​ @raintoray @frenchiefightingman​ @70sgubler​ @ccidk​ @baconstripstripper​ @thunderkick44 @spiralingtoinsanity​ @lcvsbts​

[kxhlzn]

[ii.] the birdwatcher & his lover.

➳ synopsis: it's the summer of '89, and you discover new things about yourself— some good, and some you wish you could swallow and never see again. dealing with the newfound confusion of sexuality, you must learn the ins and outs of friendship and what it means to grow up.

➳ genre: coming-of-age drama, crack, violence, fluff.

➳ characters/pairing(s): eventual stanley uris/reader, unrequited!bev x reader, eventual bev/ben, eventual richie/eddie.

➳ wordcount: 5.6k of trash.

➳ song rec: don't really have any for this one. prolly why it's so bad lmao. um maybe the kenzie smith piano cover of "unjust life".

➳ warnings: profanity, henry bowers, fights, blood, flashbacks (slight chapter 2 spoilers), sexual jokes, underage smoking.

➳ author's note: this became more and more crack at the beginning and i couldn't stop it. sorry for using the phrase "sitting on his face", i saw an opportunity and took it. also didn't like this one as much tbh. not as much bev/reader as the last. this isn't edited god save me

July, 1989.

"she's fucking insane!"

how right richie tozier was, staring in utter horror as you march your way straight toward the older boy who has tortured your friends for far too long. one of his greasy hands grips the short hairs on beverly's head, forcing her neck to recline against the bricks of the library— and in turn, your patience.

"someone's gotta stop her," eddie replies, his brows curved inward in concern. he'd be more vocal, if it wasn't for the fear of henry bowers that limited him.

stanley and bill bike their way down the uncrowded street, scanning the nearby area in search of ben, who requested they all meet him at the library for something he called fascinating. bill nearly crashes into stanley's bike when he spots you stomping your way up to bowers. he does, however, slam into the curb when you capture a handful of henry's mullet and slam your free hand up his nose until he cries out.

bill takes a rough tumble, but eddie and richie don't notice. eddie's palms are covering his eyes, and he tells richie to "let him know when it's over". stanley, on the other hand, is whipping his head between yourself and bill as he rapidly decides to minimize collateral damage from the two accidents: bill's bleeding forehead and scrapes, or the death bell slamming into his brain like a literal gong every time he hears a grunt come from bowers as he's reeling from your assault.

sorry, bill; you should have learned how to ride your bike properly. stanley slips off the seat of his transportation, for once not even bothering to stand it up properly before it is left bare, tipping over onto the curb. he's shaking from head to toe, and his footsteps are wobbly. each meter he's closer to bowers, the more he considers bolting and telling his father to never answer your calls. alas, he can't help but feel an obligation; you've saved him from more scraps with the blonde delinquent than he can count, and you always ended up with more bruises than he did— and you would clean his cuts first.

august 23rd of your 8th grade year, henry bowers takes it into his hands to destroy the lives of each and every child of derry. he's a sophomore at the high school, but that never stops him from picking on you. his first victim is stanley uris, one of your best friends of a year, as he shoves him down, forcing the boy to take a rough tumble.

eddie's prepubescent screeching exemplifies within every second that henry attacks, and by a couple minutes in, it's entirely indecipherable. henry's goon, patrick, crouches beside stanley's curly head, and retrieves his jewish kippah, examining it as though he actually cared what it was. his slimy grin makes your skin crawl.

"nice frisbee, flamer," patrick runs his calloused thumb over the fabric, waves the cap in front of stan's face, and tightens his grip as he stands. stan grasps helplessly for the cap, and you push through bowers (as he's holding richie's glasses above his head), and just barely catch the kippah before it soars into a passing bus's cracked window.

after your fingers are wrapped firmly around the rim, you slam your free hand right up patrick's nose, causing the greasy boy to take a few shaky steps backward. he grips the center of his face, blood slipping from his nostrils, and he growls.

he cries something pathetic and retreats behind henry, who licks his palm, and runs it down bill's cheek leisurely. eddie cringes at the sight. "this summer's gonna be a hurt train for you and your faggot friends."

"as much of a hurt train it'll be for you when you get home to daddy?" you mock with venom, and your stomach swirls in anticipation. you had been entirely aware of what mr. bowers did to his son, and you would have felt sympathetic if he wasn't such a fucking dick. you partially wish you could shove your words down into your shivering guts, and prevent the consequences of your spillage. bill's arms immediately grip around your waist, his bony shoulder turning to hide your torso. his own body trembles, but he doesn't want bowers to see the fear behind his stubborn irises.

henry was shaken at your words, entirely speechless— out of fear or anger, you weren't sure. probably a mix of both. he seems to not even realize what he's doing, but his arm is raised, and he backhands you right out of bill's shaking arms. you land straight on your ass and your ears ring; henry and his gang take a run for it, and slip into belch's car like the slimy no-good rats they are. your head is dizzy from the impact, and the losers crowd around you. four chaotic voices swarm you, and you wave them all away so they don't worry.

but you still grip stanley's kippah like your life depends on it.

the owner of the jewish cap collapses next to you, and he isn't swift to ask for it back or demand it. in fact, it's a thought pushed to the back of his mind when he sees how swollen your cheek gets, and how a trickle of blood is growing in the corner of your mouth. he is entirely aware that patrick is now determined to destroy you, or worse. he is entirely aware of what that means for you, and he knows that you know too. he knows that you know and you still caught the kippah for him regardless, and he feels his heart enlarge, growing pregnant with sadness and appreciation.

all of these voices slamming into your skull, mostly eddie's high pitched squealing, and all you can hear for a moment is stan's quiet 'thank you'.

you nod curtly, and gently push his shoulder with your fist, a lopsided grin on your bruised mouth. "ah, it's nothing, kid."

you wiggle your fingers at eddie, a sure sign that you want him to help you stand. hesitantly, the lithe boy grabs your forearm and pulls you up. you extend the favor to stanley, and yank him to his feet too.

"is everyone okay?" you chirp positively, reaching your hands above stan's head, plopping his kippah onto his mass of curls. his tall form retracts a bit, bending slightly so you didn't have to exhaust yourself. once you were content with the cap's position, you stood in a confident position, fingers wrapped around your hips.

stan removes the kippah and stuffs it into his bag, which he keeps slung around his shoulder. he eyes the losers curiously as they gape at your enthusiasm, but he's the only one that really catches your attention. he mouths a brief, "are you really okay?" and you smile at the ground.

you mouth back, "we'll talk later".

"is that.. are you seriously asking us if we're okay right now, 'cause last i checked..." eddie's words are drowned out.

stanley uris almost squeals when bowers's posture returns, and he's stalking toward your shorter self like he's going to slack his jaw and swallow you whole in one, frankly, sloppy bite. stan rushes in front of you seconds before henry takes an uncalibrated swing, and it knocks stanley straight across the cheek, and you scream. henry takes a handful of your hair and yanks you upward, lifting you off the ground slightly, but he's weak enough that the tips of your shoes graze the grass. the entire time, eddie is screaming, (or speaking really high-pitched, but you couldn't be sure, as you were getting your brains pummeled out), and richie takes a not-so-manly roar and rushes towards the bully. you'd be proud of him if you hadn't noticed his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his legs like jelly the entire dash over.

he pushes henry to the ground by wrapping his arms around his torso and taking himself down too. "you motherfucking slime-fucker, i'm gonna kill you, or someth—"

crunch. your first thought is henry "greaseball" bowers fucking ate richie tozier, and even after your brain rationalized the events after, you still thought that was an entirely plausible prediction. except, you think his screech would have been a little more muffled, and less annoying because you would have felt sympathy for him, for you know, being fucking inhaled like one of bev's cigarettes. both fortunately and unfortunately, it was just his glasses— and you were relieved briefly until it came to your attention that they were no longer sitting on his freckled face, which meant one thing: the poor kid couldn't see shit.

you witness beverly dig her knee right into henry's set of jewels, right before you feel a soft but firm hand on your shoulder, and you're pulled up by a flash of red — bill's gushing forehead — and shoved away from the conflict. suddenly, he's bursting towards richie, and he practically throws him out of the way as he snatches up his glasses and bolts towards the row of bikes laid out. beverly is already waiting for him, holding up the bike so he can grasp it and hop on. eddie takes his cue to get on his own, and you almost run towards stanley but bill grabs you and shakes his head.

"oh, fuck off, denbrough, this isn't a sad movie or whatever!" you break his grip and reach out as far as you can until you catch a handful of stanley's button up. fabric, or a button, tears, but you manage to get him far away from bowers enough to pull him onto the back of his own bike. before he can even adjust himself, you're pedaling rapidly after the others, with stanley's arms wrapped around your torso.

that is not how he imagined the bike moment to go: you know the one, where the girl is wrapped around the guy's chest, leaning her head softly against his shoulder blade, staring off into the sky as they pedal away from the cliche villain? yeah, no. stanley is practically squeezing your organs into your throat, panting in your ear, and not-so-gracefully swerving the bike's balance. you wiggle until he gets the gist that you want to survive the ride, and pedal as fast as your legs can; then when you've gained enough leverage against the others, you stand on the pedals, and stanley's arms slide down to your thighs.

he tries not to stare at the apple in front of his face, so he glances up, and is washed with the image of your face battered and bloodied, but you've got the biggest smile on your lips like you've just climbed mount everest— like saving him was just that exhilarating. but then you try to sit back down, and his arms around your thighs send the bike into a swirl, and you're pretty much sitting on his face until he releases your legs. as if things couldn't get more awkward.

"sorry," stanley mutters, mostly to ease his own embarrassment that's traveled to his cheeks and chest. you both look over at bill and bev, and scowl. they are literally the epitome of the "perfect couple" bike ride, and the two of you feel like barfing.

your reason much different than stan's.

"how are we going to warn ben?" you yell to the entire group.

"kid's a dead man!" richie shouts in reply.

bev jumps in. "we can't just leave him!"

"do you wanna go back?" richie inquires, raising a brow.

her silence is met with you taking a violent u-turn towards the library, and stan wants to cry. you tell the others to get to mike before he shows up unaware of the situation, while you curve around to the back of the building and park the bike by the steps.

"this'll lead us to the basement," stan states while he climbs off.

"i know," you quip.

"what if we get caught? this is a stupid idea," stan says, crossing his arms as you walk up the steps. you shrug.

"so?"

"so?"

"and? we get caught. what are they gonna do, take away our library cards?"

turns out they can do a lot more than just take away your library cards, but they let you both slide when they saw the bruises littering you and stan's faces— you were definitely a sight: two fifteen-year-olds caught in the basement of the library, covered in purple and red marks with innocent gleams on your lips as you try to sweet-talk the librarian into not telling your parents that you were discovered unraveled in the dark together. god, the look on the rabbi's face if he had heard that— it leaves you smirking the whole ride away from the building— through the back entrance, of course.

ben says he got lucky that you were there to warn him, 'cause he was going to come out and look for you all a couple minutes after the others departed. that gives you some relief, knowing that it was the right choice to go back. poor kid woulda been bloodied without anyone there to help him.

once you all meet in the alley outside the pharmacy, (with bev's help in distracting mr. keene, again), you mutually agree to patch each other up at the clubhouse, the only safe place for the losers' club anymore. it makes you a bit sad to think that, but nevertheless true. it's a bit worse that you guys are so terrified to leave your bikes near it, that you take a twenty-minute hike to the secret location once you've secured the transportation far away from its sacred grounds.

eddie scowls at the sight of the door in the ground, covered in weeds and unidentified muck, but he chooses not to say anything. everyone is worn out and drained, and he's just happy everyone survived it. his scowl melts into a deep frown as he goes over the events in his head— he was scared, and he hadn't helped a single one of them; he watched as bev was slammed against the library wall, he watched as stanley was decked by bowers, and he watched as each and every one of them defended each other. god, he was such a fucking coward— could he do anything right?

richie senses the weight on the smaller boy's thoughts, so he tentatively puts his hand on his shoulder. is this too much? he doesn't want to make eddie think he likes him, or anything. eddie simply sighs in response, but in his heart, he feels calmer, like maybe they do want him, even if he's a wuss.

ben crouches down to clear the entry to the clubhouse, while richie starts up a conversation about how he totally whipped henry to pieces, and how his sorry ass is gonna come crawling to richie for forgiveness. ben shakes his head with a soft smile, and richie pokes him with his foot.

"hey, you think it's funny, ben? you were stuffing your nose in a book being the biggest fucking nerd in the whole goddamn world! you just watch, bennie; crawling, i tell ya'. crawling," richie says, bending over enough to get an eyeful of ben's snicker.

"yeah, sure, rich," beverly laughs; she pulls a pack of cigarettes from her blouse, and fishes out a lighter. you can't help but stare when she places a cigarette in between her pink lips, and concentrates as she sets the tip aflame— it takes eddie's voice calling your name to draw you from her form.

"hey! take your inhaler!" he chucks it at you.

you catch it just in time and mutter to yourself about how ridiculous he's being. you roll your eyes as you release a breath of air, and place the inhaler between your lips. you push down on the bottle of medicine as you take a deep inhale, letting the contents push down your throat and into your lungs. you have to hold the air for a couple seconds and swallow.

eddie speaks after he takes a puff from his own. "getting scared like that and beverly smoking a cigarette is a death trap for us."

you blink at him, cigarette in your mouth. you inhale, release, and shrug, handing it back to beverly. "you were saying?"

eddie's face contorts to one of a miniature aneurysm, words falling short. he resorts to rolling his eyes and glaring at the dirt.

ben finally heaves open the hatchet and sighs contently. eddie slips in first, with his newly stolen med kit under his arm. ben enters next, and so on.

the clubhouse is rustic, with its oak poles and shelves of miscellaneous items, like puzzles, card games, med supplies, and non-perishable snacks. mike lights a lamp in the corner of the structure while ben pulls the hatch down to close it, and you take a look around, as though you hadn't been done here a hundred times before.

from right where the ladder drops, is a long step that extends from wall to wall, with a plush cushion positioned right next to the entrance. there's a pile of journals and books next to it, with a metal cup of pens on top of the first one. leaned up behind the ladder is a rather large one, a bit bulky and thick with all the pictures of bird species within its pages. (there's an even larger photo album seated on the biggest bookshelf in the clubhouse, shoved in the far back on a ledge where mike and ben hang out). that cushion is where stanley likes to sit, as one might infer. he doesn't like to fold his legs, so the step is nice for him to plant his feet as he sits stiffly on the, frankly, uncomfortable pillow. it explains the sour expression on his face when he spends hours sitting there, and the way he squirms the entire time like there's a nail protruding out of the cushion and into his ass. you wouldn't be that surprised, though, as he would be too unbothered or unmotivated to remove it.

on the far right of the entire clubhouse, not far from the ladder, there is a structure similar to a bay window that ben built for you after hearing you mention you'd always wanted one in your bedroom. he was eager to please everyone with the building (even though you frankly wished he hadn't put so much strain on himself by making it), so it was an easy decision to include it. of course, there really isn't a window, so it's more of a short stage covered in a colorful variety of plush pillows and blankets. he included a built-in shelf for your sketchbooks, journals, novels, and art supplies as well as enough space to include miscellaneous items that you like to decorate with. the space is a bit long, too— not long enough to be a bed, but not short enough to be a couch, either. ben, being the angel he is, included curtains you could pull pack around the section, as you often slept back there, too.

a storage section is tucked away behind a beam separating it with stan's small seat, and that's where the majority of your games and such are located. it has a wooden wall built on its left side, connecting to the open space set out for mike and bill's favorite place, which is more like a stage than your own. three extended steps stretching from the storage room to the far wall on the other side lead up to it, with a flat surface at the top of the third one. that's where you guys keep your larger things, like lawn chairs, toolboxes, and extra wood planks in case ben feels a bit creative. in the corner, though, there's a sandbox that ben enjoys building structures in (much to stan and eddie's dismay, as they both end up being the ones to clean up after him, even when the poor boy is apologizing profusely for making a mess). bill and mike prefer to have deep, intellectual conversations that are a bit too advanced for the likes of richie, and are just a bit boring for the rest of you. you like to have them too, but sometimes they become repetitive, or perhaps you just aren't in the mood to be a part of them, so the two boys retreat to the stage in the back.

eddie and richie constantly argue over the hammock that hangs comfortably in the center of the clubhouse, which is essentially a cheap old sheet tied securely to a couple beams that were set up for the sake of the structure of the hideout. they always end up a tangled mess in the middle, their heads on opposite ends. eddie likes to complain about richie's presence in the hammock majority of the time (if he's not kicking it back with you in your bay window), but he always seems the most at ease when richie is in it with him. he probably doesn't realize it, but he whines he's cold when the taller boy is absent, or hidden somewhere else amongst you.

ben and bev, arguably the easiest to please out of all of the losers, prefer to keep their hangout simple by placing a couple cheap cushions on the floor by the hammock, close enough reach so bev can pass a cigarette between herself and richie. she likes to lean her head against a beam behind her favorite location and drop her elbow onto a box of comic books that you and eddie share. as bev and richie share a smoke, you and eddie toss your inhalers back and forth between yourselves (it took you a while to convince him to do it, but he eventually decided you aren't as germy as the rest of them).

simply put, the clubhouse was home.

today, however, you decide to be a little mischevious, throwing yourself onto the hammock, with richie and eddie's eyes bulging out of their heads. you cock your chin at them, splaying your arms out to graze the dirt floor beneath you, "something wrong, boys?"

"yeah, that's my fucking hammock," richie scolds, crossing his arms while eddie places a small hand on his own hip.

stan doesn't take a seat, slipping his shoes off, while the others migrate to their most common places. "you guys get it every time. what's wrong with her taking a turn?"

you point your thumb behind you at him, nodding in tune. "see? stan the man knows what's up."

stan smirks, and just as he's preparing to plop down onto his beloved cushion, you swing the hammock close enough so you can capture a handful of his striped shirt. he stumbles into your lap, and quickly adjusts himself to save you both the embarrassment. his entirely too long limbs are lanky and take up nearly the entire sheet; you let your toes wiggle underneath his hips.

"i regret this," you mutter, stan's shoeless (thankfully with socks) foot placed next to your head. he apologizes, and swings one over the edge of the hammock, while sliding the other between your arm and your torso.

"is that better?" stan inquires, watching with amusement as eddie and richie groan and throw themselves onto your bay window. with all that space, you'd think they'd spread out, but no,— they're legs are just as tangled as usual.

"yeah," you say, "so, uh. eds, you gonna patch us up or are we gonna bleed all over our favorite shit?"

you hear an awkward crash behind you, and you pray it isn't your collection of display items on your shelf. there's a tumble, and then the patter of feet followed by an "oh, fuck, yeah". the medkit clatters quietly, while eddie digs through it to retrieve some alcohol and cotton swabs.

bill is the first, provided his injuries root from his inability to keep his eyes on the road. he doesn't talk much through it, rather sits there too calm.

"what happened?" you question and stanley shakes the hammock as he reaches over to his pile of books, and captures one in his hand. his foot digs slightly into your side, and you curse under your breath as you try to peer past his curly head.

stanley smirks slightly. "he saw you punch bowers, and crashed."

"too bad it wasn't 'cause he saw the color of your panties..." richie groans, "'cause then i'd have something to take my mind off my aching face."

your stomach curls in both disgust and amusement, rolling your eyes. "they're just blue, today, my friend."

you turn your head just enough to get an eyeful of richie pumping his fist in excitement. you scoff and throw an empty plastic bottle at him, one you found underneath the hammock.

bill hisses from his position on the floor beside eddie and ben. eddie's legs are tucked under his lap, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips in concentration; ben merely glances everywhere but the cloth on bill's forehead, face nearly a shade of green.

"stop moving!" eddie snaps, and bill mutters an apology, wringing his hands in his lap as he waits for eddie to finish up.

"on the positive side," you chirp, poking stanley with your toe, "henry might have a broken nose."

"i ain't fixing it," eddie says, a small smile evident on his lips. his eyes never waver from bill's cut, though.

"nah," you agree, reading the cover of stanley's book, "i wouldn't put my worst enemy through that."

eddie glares at the cut in response. he can't lose concentration, fortunately, but you're aware it was intended for you. "hey!"

richie snorts. "amen."

the sun disappears quickly behind the horizon, but you can barely tell from where you lay. an orange light passes through the doorway, illuminating ben's soft skin, his head in beverly's lap. he's asleep, much like bill, mike, eddie, and richie. beverly slowly drags on a cigarette, a small reflection of light gracing the freckles on her cheek. her eyes are glazed over, like she might fall asleep herself in the next couple minutes. stanley is contently flipping through his novel, the cover a tinge away from an oak brown. his brows are curled in, his entire body engaged in the pages. you tilt your head at him, curious as to what's enraptured him so entirely.

he doesn't notice, thumb tracing circles in the skin of your knee. his hand is warm, like your cheeks, but you don't notice it. seems to be a common occurrence between the two of you; not noticing things that are obvious.

beverly marsh, though, and that eagle eye of hers, notices. a smile appears on her lips, small and knowing. that's just how she is; small, and knowing.

stanley uris's eyes light briefly, and his lips pursue. he's surprised by something that has happened in the book. he seems to disconnect for a moment, glancing up at you. they drop back down and then rise to meet yours again. this time, he's captivated by you.

you take this moment as a chance to speak with him. "are you okay?"

"yeah."

"no," you press, leaning forward slightly to keep full attention of his eyes, "are you okay? i haven't had a chance to ask."

stanley licks his lips and taps your knee in thought. finally, he clears his throat. "um, yeah. just had a lot on my mind, is, uh, all."

"your pops?" you inquire, reaching behind yourself to get ahold of a box of graham crackers. you tear open the box and package, capturing a cracker and snapping it in half. you offer one of the halves to stan.

he takes it, and nods in thanks. "i mean, i guess. he's always nagging me, ever since my bar mitzvah speech."

you think back to that dreadful event.

"what the fuck do we do?" richie asks, legs crossed as he flails his arms. you pitch him a glare from across stanley, whose legs are tucked beneath him, his face in his shaking hands. his shoulders shake too, and he's vulnerable.

it's like watching a bird caught in a wire.

he's muttering barely coherent words, along the lines of "i can't do this", and "i'm gonna fuck this whole thing over". you grip his shoulders, and position yourself in front of his kneeling body. you give him a gentle squeeze, and he looks up just enough to meet your firm eyes.

"you, stanley uris, are the biggest loser i know, and i mean that in the kindest way. you will tackle this shit. if you choose to go the formal route, i support you. you lie to them as much as you want. if you want to tell them to shove it, i support you," you spill out, and before long, you're not sure what you're trying to imply anymore. "i... we are here, no matter the circumstances. if you want to light this whole place up, so be it. i'll be the fire."

stanley's eyes are bright, and his lip quivers. he doesn't know what to say or do. but he trusts you, and somehow that's enough.

stanley stands on that stage, and he recites every hebrew word he is expected to. it seems to drone on forever, and you can tell, even from your seat, that he is just as bored as you and richie are. his hands are trembling with each page flip, and somehow towards the end, you hear the subtle rip of one. stan chokes up but continues.

by the end, his father is (poorly) trying to hide his fury, and you resist every urge to stand and yell, "he's doing his best! shut up and accept that, you condescending prick!"

stan is silent once he finishes. he takes a minute to turn and face the crowd, but his expression is harder than what you expected when he does. "reflecting on the meaning of what i just read, the word "leshanot" comes up a lot, which means, um, 'to change, to transform'. which makes sense, i guess, because today i'm supposed to become a man."

his hands curl the microphone wire and uncurl it. a nervous tick. "it's funny, though. everyone, i think, has some memories they're prouder of than others, right? and maybe that's why change is so scary. 'cause the things we wish we could leave behind... the whispers we wish we could silence... the nightmares we most want to wake up from, the memories we wish we could change… the secrets we feel like we have to keep, are the hardest to walk away from."

his dark eyes pass over the room, examining the distasteful expressions of each jewish man, woman, and child in the synagogue. when they land on you, he feels a surge of strength, his soul hardening towards the judgmental others. all he sees is you.

"the good stuff? the pictures in our minds that fade away the fastest? those pieces of you it feels the easiest to lose. maybe i don't wanna forget," his eyes don't waver. he pictures all of the memories he has with you and the losers; the quarry trips, the arcade, the photo booth. you have brought him so much happiness. "maybe, i-i-if that's what today is all about, forget it, right?"

his father, the rabbi, surges forward, with a quick, "thank you, stanley".

you curse in your head. let him finish!

stanley dodges him. "u-uh, today, i'm supposed to become a man, but i don't feel any different. there are things i need to experience, still, i think. i'm still just a kid. i'm not ready for the responsibility, for the harshness of adulthood. i want to stay as i am, with my people. i need to."

he stumbles out closer to your pew, avoiding his dad. your nod of encouragement forces him to face him, determination in his bones. he needs this. a final "fuck you".

"i know i'm a loser, and no matter what, i always fucking will be," you say, quoting him. stanley becomes bashful, shaking his head at you. you nudge him with your toe. "still my favorite moment from that. should be your senior quote. love that for you."

"might need to change the wording a bit," he replies, picking at his fingers.

"nah, a final 'fuck you', you know?"

"wouldn't that be a sight."

"you've always been a looker."

stanley laughs softly. the hammock shudders suddenly as you crawl over to his side, and lean your head against his chest. the subtle beating of his heart lulls you into silence, and he doesn't know what to do with his hands. he feels entirely too lanky now, like his limbs might just curl around you like a vine. thankfully though, you tangled your legs with his, and wrap your arms around his torso. his palms finally settle on your back.

"you're my best friend," you mutter against his chest, and he shudders.

"thanks," he chokes out awkwardly.

he can feel bev's eyes burning holes in his cheek, and he can't bring himself to look at her, and she knows it, too. his face burns now, in turn, so he suddenly takes the new cigarette from her, and drags it quickly. he hands it back to her just as fast.

"w—" she begins.

"—shut up," stanley snaps, noticing you've fallen asleep like the others. you're so peaceful.

best friend? he thinks, why do his lungs burn like they've caught fire? why does he feel like he doesn't know himself at all anymore?

why do you feel more distant than ever?

taglist:

@hannarudick @cedricisnotonfire @russian-romanova

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

What’s a King to a Schoolmaster?

First commission by the ever-wonderful @turtletotem! Commission info is here!

~

Being king, Edward mused, was absolute shit.

Having been a prince, he was jaded to all this luxury. The power would’ve been fun, except if he wanted to keep the throne until his wife had a baby, he had to share it with the councils. This wasn’t even a big country and he was tired of ruling it. What he would give for a fine, strong son to take the throne so he could move far away and be a goatherd or something.

“Daydreaming again, sire?”

Edward perked up and turned with a grin to his oldest friend and current guard captain. “More like pouting,” he replied, “But I suppose the day’s getting better.”

Wilhelm smiled back a little, lop-sided. “Her majesty the queen is anxious to see you again,” he informed the king.

Edward scoffed and waved his hand. “She’s always anxious. That’s why Father picked her, because she’s anxious and if she kills me no one will suspect her.”

Wilhelm stopped smiling. “That was fast,” he remarked. “Do you hate her already?”

“No, but I suspect she hates me. I give her everything she wants and never ask for anything except her presence at state functions and an heir. She wants to be needed and I can’t give her that.” Edward shrugged and stretched, smirking as Wilhelm’s eyes flicked up and down his body. The current court fashions were tighter than Edward liked, but if it made Wilhelm flustered, he’d take it. It was always fun to fluster Will. “Poor lady. Maybe I’ll run away as soon as she has a child,” he mused. “Boy or girl.”

“That would not do, sire,” Wilhelm said stiffly. “You are still king.”

“And you are still obsessed with honor.” Edward stood, walked over, and yanked Wilhelm down for a quick kiss. “I’m telling you, a little chicken-blood, signs of a struggle, and we can make it look like you killed me and ran away. We can be goatherds together!”

Wilhelm finally, actually smiled, and put his hand on Edward’s waist. “Eddie, you don’t know shit about goats,” he retorted, but fondly. “And I can’t make cheese. So there.”

Edward laughed and embraced him.

~

It was another holiday feast, and Edward was bored out of his mind.

Sarah was having fun, talking to the other court ladies and comparing notes on whose secret lover was better. Edward didn’t mind that she had a lover. Someone to make her happy, keep her sane in this endlessly boring existence as queen. Well. He assumed it was boring.

Wilhelm was looking handsome, as usual, shadowing Edward as he stood by the fireplace and discussed the military with some of his nobles. Edward hated the military part of ruling, but the Vassa Legions were gathering next door and his ministers were nervous about war. Gods, they were so nervy.

Edward looked around the ballroom, and frowned. Everyone looked nervous. Was he missing something? He’d have to ask his spymaster what was going on. Or Wilhelm. Wilhelm always knew.

Finally, finally, his ministers drifted away, and Edward strolled over to sit in his throne again. A servant hurried over and handed him a goblet of wine. Edward nodded his thanks and toyed with the goblet, not really in the mood for more alcohol. Wilhelm drifted up to him and leaned down to murmur, “Sire, I suggest you and Queen Sarah adjourn early. There’s too much tension.”

“Oh, so you noticed it too.” Edward looked around again, frowning once more. No one would meet his eyes. “Huh. I think I will take your advice. How should I approach Sarah?”

Wilhelm raised one dark eyebrow and looked aggrieved. “Sire, you know I am exactly the wrong person to ask about that,” he replied dryly.

Edward coughed to hide a laugh. Yes, he did know. Wilhelm had never had a lover, woman or man; he just wasn’t interested in anyone, he’d told sixteen-year-old Edward, blushing.

Well, that was alright. Edward wasn’t very much into lovers, either. So sweaty, and what did one get out of it? A few minutes of pleasure that you could easily get on your own if you had the privacy? No, better to spend his nights reading and sleeping, although he always remembered to do his duty by Sarah.

Just as Edward set down his goblet and stood, Wilhelm straightening and stepping back to give him room, the doors of the ballroom slammed open, and armed men in chainmail swept in. Everyone shouted or screamed, and scurried away; but it all sounded fake and looked practiced. Edward glanced at Sarah; she was smiling. She looked over at Edward and said softly, “Sorry about this, Eddie.”

Edward grinned back. “No harm done,” he assured her cheekily. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to be a goatherd.”

She looked stunned, but then Wilhelm grabbed Edward’s arm and dragged him to the secret door.

It was quite interesting, how the rest of the king’s guard did not seem to be in their places. Wilhelm swore under his breath as he hustled Edward up the stairs, to the emergency exit.

“So this is what I get for spending my days with the new recruits,” he muttered furiously. “They all turn on me like dogs.”

“Oh, no,” Edward drawled, panting, because despite his joking he really was frightened enough to run. “Whatever shall we do? We’ll have to go into hiding. You know, my mother’s family has this lovely castle they never visit, we could hide there—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Edward shut up.

They made it to his quarters, barely. Wilhelm grabbed Edward’s sword off the wall and tossed it to him; he caught it easily and buckled it on. They had planned this, and practiced. There was a small bag under Edward’s bed containing loose, rough clothes, and several purses scattered in secret places. They gathered all of these quickly, as someone started hammering on the door. Then, while Edward slung on his cloak, Wilhelm opened the second secret door, which led into the stair way down into the dungeons. Built by one of Edward’s forefathers who liked to get off on watching people being tortured. But from the dungeons, they could get to the stables.

They followed this program quickly, and Edward began to tremble as he realized that they couldn’t hole up in a castle. They really would have to travel secretly to a barely-civilized part of the country for protection.

No more wines, he thought in a detached manner as Wilhelm slew two men who tried to stop them. No more velvets and jewels. He pulled off his signet ring and crown and dropped them in a pile of horse manure. No more fine dining and the newest books.

But also, no more being royal.

That thought made Edward suddenly happy. He was still terrified for his life, as he saddled his mare Breeze and jumped in her saddle, and following Wilhelm out of the stables, to gallop to the gate and out into the royal city. Crossbow bolts whizzed past his ear, but Breeze was faster, and soon they were in the silent city streets, sticking to shadows and avoiding the City Guard.

“So,” Edward whispered, as Wilhelm looked around sharply, “Where shall we go?”

Wilhelm hesitated, then sighed. “We should leave the continent,” he murmured back. “Or, at least pretend to. We should continue south, anyway; much more land to search to the south.”

“True enough.”

They rode in silence, far into the morning. They stopped in the woods, by a stream, and sat down while their horses rested. And then Edward felt tears in his eyes.

“Damn it!” he snarled, thumping his knee with his fist. “I told her! I told her if she asked I’d abdicate in her favor! What is it with royalty thinking they have to kill people to get what they want?!”

Wilhelm reached over and put his hand over Edward’s fist. Automatically, he uncurled it, and wove his fingers tightly with Wilhelm’s. “There was always a chance you’d come back, or others would rally around you,” he said gently. “No royal worth their salt would allow that, even if she did believe that you would never try for the throne. What if you had a son who challenged hers? The web of politics is not straightforward.”

Edward leaned over to lean his head on Wilhelm’s shoulder. “Can I be a goatherd now? They live such simple lives.”

Wilhelm sighed. “No, Eddie. We can set up as a disgraced merchant and his bodyguard in some small city, and you can be a tutor. You like teaching, don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Edward admitted. “It was fun, teaching those youngsters about economics. But would it work?”

“It will work,” Wilhelm replied firmly. “We will make it work.”

~

If one were to ask the jovial, aging schoolmaster and his quiet blacksmith friend where they had come from, Schoolmaster Ed would laugh, and Blacksmith Will would just shake his head and smile.

“Oh, it doesn’t really matter,” Ed would chuckle. He still had an accent when he spoke. “They didn’t want me there, anyway.”

Will would just shake his head and refuse to answer.

Some of the town gossips were sure they were… peculiar. But there were never any signs. They lived together, and if one were to watch through their window (which, given the fact that their cottage was smack in the middle of the street, was never unnoticed), Ed liked to read aloud to Will, and they sometimes fell asleep on the same couch. But nothing else.

One bold young girl, Niamh, snuck out from her foster home one night before she could be caught and hurt (the wheelwright had a nasty temper and took it out on everyone) and crept into the back garden of the schoolmaster and the blacksmith, just in time to hear Ed say, “I got a letter today, from Sarah! She said she’s given birth to twins!”

“She found us?” Will asked sharply, and Niamh shrank back in the bushes, frightened by his tone.

“Yes, but it’s fine, my love. Her new husband has straightened out those courtiers too annoying to be useful, and now the country is stable again. Just in time for the births. She asked if you would mind terribly if she named one after you, the only loyal man in court.” Here, Ed faltered. “I… haven’t written back yet. Do you have anything to say to her?”

A long moment. Then Will sighed. “Tell her I thank her for the honor, and for thinking of me. That’s all I have to say to the woman who tried to have you killed.”

“Oh, but didn’t I tell you?” Ed said merrily. “She laid out the entire plot in that letter, every scrap of detail, she said because she couldn’t live without me knowing. They weren’t going to kill me! Rough me up, yes, torture me, probably, but they knew if they killed me there’d be an uproar. So they were just going to imprison me. Oh! We seem to have a visitor!”

Before Niamh could figure out what that meant, Will was looming over her, frowning. She shrank back, beginning to shake with fear, eyes huge.

But then he smiled, and said, “You’re Niamh, right? Well, come on out, child. You’ve heard quite a bit already.”

“That darling child living with that nasty wheelwright?” Ed gasped, also coming around the corner as Niamh stood slowly. “Oh, my dear! You shouldn’t be hiding in the dark and cold like that. Come, come, have tea with us. Did you run away?”

“Yes,” she answered in a small voice, as she followed them to the graveled area in front of their backdoor, where they were having a final cup of tea before bed. “I… I was scared. He was angry.”

Will frowned, but in a worried way. Ed nodded and smiled sadly. “Understandable, my dear. He’s an alarming man. Do you take sugar?”

[dukereviewstv]

Duke Reviews Tv: Smallville 1x19 Crush

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Tv Where We Continue Our Look At Smallville And On Today's Show We're Looking At Episode 19 Of Season 1, Crush

This Episode Sees Chloe Falling For A Former Artist For The Torch Named Justin Gaines (Played By Seth Cohen/Captain Marvel Jr. Or Is It Shazam Jr. Now Because Of The Whole Captain Marvel Copyright Thing?) Who Because Of A Hit And Run Accident Has Lost The Ability To Draw With His Hands But Has Gained Telekinetic Abilities...

Ok, How Many People In Comics Have Lost One Thing But Gained The Ability To Do Another Thing Because Of An Accident Of Some Type? Honestly If Anyone Knows Please Write It In The Comments...

And So With This Miraculous New Ability What Does Justin Do With It? He Decides To Get Revenge On The People Who Ruined His Life...

After Killing The Doctor Who Botched His Surgery In The Hospital, Justin Searches For The Hit And Run Driver That Ruined His Life, Can Clark Stop Him?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Crush...

The Episode Starts At Metropolis Children's Hospital As Justin Gaines Draws To Get His Hands Back To Peak Condition But To No Avail As The Doctor Comes In To Check On Him As He's Being Released Tomorrow...

Upset That Everything Has Gotten Better Except His Hands, The Doctor Tells Justin That He Did Everything He Could Despite Justin Discovering That The Doctor Has 5 Patients Who Have Filed Malpractice Suits Against Him Which Leads The Doctor To Tell Justin That When One Door Closes Another Door Opens As He Leaves To Have Dinner With His Wife...

Using His Powers, Justin Messes With The Elevator Trying To Kill The Doctor, With The Elevator Stopping On A Floor, The Doctor's Wife Manages To Get Out But The Doctor Doesn't As The Elevator Goes Crashing To The Ground Floor...

A Few Weeks Later At Smallville High, Clark And Pete Are At The School's Job Fair As Clark Briefly Talks With Principal Kwan's Son Who Works For The Air Force Before Reuniting With Pete Who Got A Summer Job At Mayor Siegel's Office Working On His Re-Election Campaign...

Running Into Chloe Who Is Trying To Get An Internship At The Daily Planet Despite Lex Offering To Get Her Job At The Inquisitor, Pete Tells Her Maybe She'll Be Able To Try Again On Saturday At The Student Journalism Conference With Clark...

However, Clark Has Been Working On A History Project With Lana All Week To The Point That He Forgot To Sign Them Up...

Upset That Clark Is Spending More Time With Lex And Lana Than He Is Her, Chloe Stomps Off As Pete Sides With Her Saying That She Wanted To Ask Him To The Spring Formal Which Has Clark Realizing That Chloe May Like Him...

Though With What We Know About Alison Mack Now I Don't Know If That's A Good Thing Or A Bad Thing...

Running Into Justin At Her Locker, He Thanks Chloe For Some E-mails She Sent Him While Telling Her The News That His Drawing Hand Is Shot And He Won't Be Able To Draw Again For The Torch...

Asking Her Out For A Coffee, Chloe Only Accepts Because She's Trying To Make Clark Jealous...

Visiting His Mother's Grave On The Anniversary Of Her Death, Lex Is Soon Confronted By His Former Nanny, Pamela Jenkins Who's There For The Same Reason Lex Is, Despite Lex Being Mad At Her For Disappearing Nine Years Ago Because Lillian "Bought Her Off"...

(Start At 4:26)

Going Over Old Comic Strips That Justin Worked On For The Torch, Clark Enters And Asks Justin About His Accident Only For Justin To Tell Him That He Doesn't Remember Much Only Part Of A Licence Plate With The Beginning Letters Being DDI...

With Chloe Offering To Help Justin, Clark Believes That They Should Let The Police Handle It Which Leads Chloe To Bite Clark's Head Off Saying Any Information They Find They'll Give It To The Police...

I Mean Even When Clark Tries To Fix His Mistake By Getting Tickets To The Conference With The Help Of Lex, Chloe Is Still A Bitch To Clark Saying That Justin Is Already Signed Up And She's Going As His Guest...

You Know This Whole Fight Started Because Clark Started Because Clark Didn't Get Tickets To This Dumb Conference And Now That Clark Has Tickets You're Not Going To Drop Justin And Go With Clark?

Did I Miss Something Here!?!

Dropping Some Of His Drawings In His Portfolio, Justin Picks Them Up As Clark Discovers A Newspaper Clipping Of Justin's Doctor's Elevator Accident...

After School, Lana Drops By The Farm To Get Some Pies For The Talon From Martha Only To Talk With Clark About What's Going On Between Him And Chloe..

(Start At 1:41, End At 2:11)

The Next Day At School, Clark Talks With Pete About Justin As Clark Shows Pete The Newspaper Clipping He Found In His Portfolio...

Discovering That The Doctor In The Photo Was Justin's Doctor, Clark Finds It Weird That Justin Had That In His Portfolio But Then Overhearing Their Conversation, Justin Enters Telling Clark That He Liked The Tragic Irony Of It...

Believing That Clark Is Talking Behind His Back, Justin Tells Clark That He Had His Chance With Chloe And To Let Him Have His...

(Justin) And If You Don't I Have Friends In Gotham That'll Make Sure You Do!

Meanwhile At The Luthor Mansion, Lex Is Visited By Pamela Jenkins Despite Him Still Being Upset At Her And Looking At Her Like She's The Ghost Of Jacob Marley...

(Start At 3:17)

While Delivering His Mom's Pies To The Talon, Clark Talks With Lana About Chloe While She's Going Through Issues Of Her Own With Whitney, Who's Making Up For Lost Time Because His Father Has Been In The Hospital But Because Of This She Wants To Redefine Their Relationship And Figure Out Where It's Going...

But Back To Clark, Who Honestly Has No Clue What To Do About Chloe Except That He Doesn't Want To Lose Her As A Friend As Once They Cross That Line There May Be No Going Back...

Back At The Torch, Justin Gives A Drawing To Chloe That He Worked On All Night With The Help Of His Powers And Admits That He Not Only Had A Crush On Her But He Thought Of Her When He Got Hit By The Hit And Run Driver...

You Mean To Tell Me After You Got Hit You Didn't Think " Oh, God, Oh, God I'm In So Much Pain Somebody Call An Ambulance" First, Justin?

Seeing This As Their Second Chance Justin Kisses Chloe Causing All The Pencils And Stuff To Float In The Room...

Eh, Some People's Feet Pop, Others Cause Things To Levitate, Go Figure...

Eventually Seeing Everything Float In The Air, Justin Tells Chloe About His Powers And She's Surprisingly Ok With It Despite The Fact That Nearly Every Person With Powers She's Come In Contact With Has Tried To Kill Her Or Worse...

Either Way They Go Back To Kissing Only For Clark To See Them As He Asks Chloe To Have A Word With Her In The Hallway But As He Does, Justin Gets Ahold Of Chloe's Fax From The DMV Which Gives Not Only The Licence Plate Number Of Who Hit Him But Who Did It...

Telling Chloe His Theory About Justin Killing His Doctor, She Doesn't Believe Clark Because She's Too Blinded By Love Instead Of Looking At This Like A Reporter And Jumping On It...

Later That Night, Justin Pays A Visit To The Driver That Apparently Ran Him Over Only To See That It Was Principal Kwan...

(Start At 0:18)

Visited In His Barn By Lex As He's Reading "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" Clark Asks For Advice On Lana And Chloe Only For Lex To Tell Him That Love Isn't About Playing It Safe But About Risks And Unless He's Willing To Put Himself Out There He'll Never Know...

But As Clark And Lex Talk, Martha Enters To Tell Clark The News That Principal Kwan Is Dead...

Nooooooooooooo! How Was He Really Connected With Clark Aside From Being His School Principal?

Visiting The Torch The Next Day, Pete And Chloe Are Putting Together A Memorial Issue For Principal Kwan But As They Do Clark Discovers That The First 3 Letters Of Kwan's Licence Plate Matches Justin's Hit And Run Driver And What's Worse The DMV Sent A Fax At 4:43 Yesterday Afternoon When Justin And Chloe Were Talking...

But Despite All That Evidence Chloe Still Isn't Putting 2 And 2 Together! You Know What Chloe If You Can't See The Big Picture Now Then...

Back At The Luthor Mansion, Lex Gets A Visit From Lionel Who's There To Tell Him That He's Selling Cadmus Labs But Lex Knows That That's Not The Real Reason He's There...

(Start At 0:45, End At 2:14)

Visiting Kwan's House, Clark Talks With Kwan's Son And Discovers That He Was The Hit And Run Driver And That His Father Died Protecting Him...

But As Clark Gets The Truth, Chloe Finally Comes To Her Senses When She Discovers A Comic That Justin Drew That Shows Not Just The Murders Of Justin's Doctor But Of Principal Kwan As Well. So, Going To Clark's Barn, She Calls Clark At The Talon To Tell Him That He Was Right And Justin Is A Psycho Only To Be Followed By Justin...

(Start At 2:26)

While Clark Finishes Off Justin, Lex Visits Pamela Jenkins In The Hospital...

(Start At 0:23)

Later On In The Series It Would Be Revealed That Pamela Had An Affair With Lionel And Gave Birth To A Daughter Who We Would Come To Know As Tess Mercer, Who Would Take Over Luthorcorp In The Wake Of Lex's Disappearance In Season 7 And Eventually Become The Second Version Of Watchtower In The Last Season...

The Next Day At The Talon, Chloe Discovers That Justin Is Being Placed In The Psychiatric Ward Before Apologizing To Clark As She Blames Herself For Not Spotting Wall Of Weird Material From A Mile Away...

To Which You Have Every Right To Blame Yourself, You Badly Written Moron...

But Believing She Was Just Being Trusting And Willing To Take A Chance On Love...

Clark Asks Chloe Out To That Student Journalism Conference As He Still Has Tickets So She Says Yes...

Wow, Talk About Getting Over A Guy Quickly...

But As That Goes On, Lana Tries To End Things With Whitney Only For Him To Tell Her That His Father Has Just Passed Away Before She Can...

(Start At 1:38)

And That's Crush And It's...Ok...

Don't Get Me Wrong It's A Good Episode It's Just Chloe's Idiocy Throughout The Episode That Ticks Me Off Otherwise I Enjoyed The Story, Most Of The Characters Well Written And The Effects Were Ok So I Say See It...

Till Next Time, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

[eclectia]

Silent Hill 2: As A Disabled Woman

Please be warned this piece discusses ableism and abuse, including murder, and contains a minor mention [just a passing plot-point, not elaborated upon] of childhood sexual abuse.

The Ancient Land is in its final stages- I'm finishing up the coding and there'll be a demo very very soon; so in my downtime I've been working out other concepts and brainstorming a lot of various things for what may or may not become my next project. There'll be more on those in the coming weeks, but I wanted to post something slightly different in the meantime to make up for the fact that I can't really keep posting “yep, still coding, still bad at it”.

One of the ideas I had revolves around a horror game, and in working out concepts for it I've been revisiting some of my favourite horror franchises – films, video games, and novels, to try and work out what makes me tick, what makes horror tick, and how I can make my game tick. In doing so, I replayed one of my perennial favourites in Silent Hill 2. As well as being one of my favourite games, it is widely held as one of the best horror video games to date, held up alongside Resident Evil, Clocktower and Alone in the Dark as a foundation of Survival Horror.

It had been some time since I last played it, and when I was a newly-diagnosed diabetic it resonated with me because of its portrayal of chronic illness, more specifically, that a character within the game had one. There weren't any games that dealt with that subject matter in such a visceral manner. At a young age, 11, I was processing my diagnosis and trying to understand how it would effect my whole life, a process which I am still trying to come to terms with and this was isolating to say the least. I was traversing my own fog.

Silent Hill 2 is not my favourite Silent Hill, that honour goes to 3 – teenage girls in horror!-, but it holds a special place in my heart, important during a time of my life where I was processing the lifelong grief of my new diagnoses. And, as I grew and co-morbidity –the tendency for multiple conditions to cluster around a primary condition - meant I had a great many other diagnoses, I found myself revisiting those claustrophobic streets as a source of comfort. It seems oxymoronic to play a horror game for comfort, but horror as a whole is a genre I have often retreated to during my darkest periods. There's safety in monsters too fantastical to exist. Yet, the real horror of Silent Hill 2 for me isn't in its psychological monsters but in the real fears of ableism and sickness.

I realised as I grew that Silent Hill's handling of and representation of illness was the reason for my constant revisits. It comforted, repulsed, terrified and saddened me and helped me process the guilt of being sick. As my relationship with myself and my disabilities [they're multiplying!] has evolved so has my reading and relationship with Silent Hill 2. There will be spoilers if you've not played it, so if you don't want it spoiled don't read any further.

I am in two minds about it on many fronts, mostly for how it handles and represents disability conceptually and literally. On the one hand, stories about how disabled people are burdensome and which usually end with their dying are a constant staple. We are a tragic love story, and in many ways Silent Hill 2 reinforces this- indeed, this is the crux of the story. The narrative of Silent Hill 2 is driven by its unreliable protagonist James Sunderland; his actions are frequently cast into doubt and Mary's right to live is what drives the main conflict within James' psyche, manifesting as the horrors of the game. Her slow death, James' desire to prolong and shorten her life, and how this conflicts with both of their wishes all form important narrative milestones. James and Mary both are cast in sympathetic lights, and many players come to understand through the naturally presented narrative that James was in the wrong. At least I hope so.

This journey of guilt mirrors the traumas of the cast of supporting characters, all of whom are dealing with guilt stemming from murder – Angela kills her sexually abusive father [which frankly I cannot criticise]; Eddie, bullied, snaps and kills a dog and perhaps a person although this is left ambiguous. Between Angela's self defence, Eddie's snapping and James' sympathy-killing of his wife, there are many facets and stages of guilt portrayed within this game. And in this world, moral greyness, like fog, presides. Yet I don't think I can agree with how yet again a disabled character is killed off to forward the plot of an abled protagonist and often we feel sorry and empathise with him by vice of his being the player character. We view the game through his perspective, and in controlling him the default perspective and empathy lies with him. This could be a problem if twinned with a player who's view and experience of disability is informed solely through media or second-hand experience. Being asked to sympathise with a character, especially one who killed a disabled woman, might lead to your average abled person simply thinking he is in the right because, concerningly, it is something they would consider. Within the context of real life this sad story -of a carer or lover who kills a sick partner, thinking it's the best thing for them- happens all too often. A very real horror for me.

Just a few years ago, in Japan nonetheless, an able bodied man slaughtered 16 disabled people because he felt they were better off dead. I am not inherently against assisted suicide, but this is not that. It is important to note there is a form of ableist abuse wherein abled people coerce disabled people that they're not worth anything, and would be better off dead. I want to make it clear that these two things are entirely different. This is not, explicitly, the situation in Silent Hill 2. There is an ending where Mary thanks and forgives James but it is also shown Mary does struggle with feelings of self-loathing during the course of her illness; not brought on by James in any way, at least not actively, and definitely something I as a disabled woman have dealt with, but worth considering. And, I think, abled people want to feel justified in their views on the worth of disabled lives, so perhaps the apology is there as a form of catharsis for abled people more than it is anything else. It is OK to sympathise with James, we'd all do the same in his situation, disabled people all secretly want to be put out of their misery. This is the unpleasant streak that runs through the game, the crux of where our sympathies stem from.

Having mentioned this, his actions are never actively condoned by the game. It is simply a harsh reality of ableism that often, abled people think they are putting us out of our misery or that our existence is inherently twinned with suffering. I don't think the writers of the game were aware of this when they wrote this in, they simply wanted a psychological angle to take so this accidental aesop is perhaps, a fluke. Many aspects of the game were planned and researched meticulously, but as far as I know none of the development team had any personal experience with illness, so the game comes from their wholly abled perspective.

As I have grown as a person, I have come into my own internal conflict with the themes and presentation therein of the game. When I was newly diagnosed with a condition that, at the time I was told would carve years off my life and which needed lifelong medication simply to function, I found solace in Silent Hill. James' struggle to understand and cope with the death of his wife was similar to how I was struggling to cope and fathom the life-changing diagnosis I had had. I think, perhaps, that when I ran through the streets again and again I was searching within the game, for some ways of processing the diagnoses I found myself saddled with. James mourned his wife of 3 years [3 days] dead, I mourned for a life drastically changed in a matter of days. James, struggling to understand his wifes' illness, was just like me struggling with mine. I was lost in my own fog, in the streets of my own head trying to come to terms with myself.

Bearing this in mind, as I have grown up and come to terms with my conditions my attitudes towards the narrative of Silent Hill 2 have changed. In it, illness is this fearful beast – it could be you! You could be sick!-, except I was; and I didn't want scares, nor did I find the implicit implications of illness scary in the same way an abled person might. What might be horrifying to an abled person was just a daily experience for me. I knew how scary illness could be. I wanted to feel normal.

Looking for normality in a horror game might feel extraneous except for when we take into consideration that many monsters in horror are stand-ins for minorities within society; the queers in the vampire, the proverbial “other”, the rejection of Frankenstein's Monster. Like them, the monsters in Silent Hill 2 all represent something, illness and the multiple perspectives of illness that James has, and I found it less comforting and more... melodramatic. Illness is a daily fact of life for me, and using my existence as a threat to abled people – you could be sick and burdensome just like Mary- just felt insulting. In Silent Hill, illness and sick people are as much the monster as James. Mary looms like Orlok's shadow.

As a character Mary is shown to be multi-faceted; James' manifestations of his guilt and feelings about Mary show her to be venomous, angry bitter, a monster spitting acid but her final letter to him reveals that she admits to this, but more than that: she is a guilt-ridden wife who knows her illness is effecting her spouse. It is heart-wrenching, and beautifully written, and as an ending monologue is poignant and reflected many of the feelings I have felt as a disabled woman. There have been times I have lashed out to people I love because of a particularly bad month of illness, and then the guilt comes because I am only human. Anger, pain and this endless cycle is an intrinsic part of Mary's character throughout the game, and despite it all, Mary is shown to be all that James wants. This is not a narrative fault, but a character flaw within James that he readily recognises and criticises repeatedly, and again, desire and the nature of it is wholly human.

Mary's portrayal within the game is both progressive and sympathetic, and concerningly backward. Mary is humanised in a way that very little media about sickness has ever done, and shown as a multifaceted and complex character just as James' own motivations and desires are shown to be both good, and bad. My readings of Silent Hill are in no way the only way to read it, and in no way lessen the story Silent Hill 2 is telling; it is an amazing, visceral game with a humanising and terrifying portrayal of how illness can take over lives.  

Silent Hill 2 holds a special place in my heart. At a time in my life where I was processing the first of many illnesses to grip me it allowed me to process and deconstruct my own feelings towards my mortality, dwindling health and illnesses. Experiencing and living with illnesses is isolating and lonely to say the least, not least because of how abled people treat us and I think Silent Hill almost nails that on the head accidentally.

This is not to say that people living with spouses who deal with illness should feel wrong, or guilty, for feeling bad about illness and I am not silly enough to suggest that illness does not have an effect on those around me; it does, but the way Silent Hill missteps is in showing illness as a singularly burdensome, corrupting thing, and offering justification for James' actions. It is left up to the player, ultimately, but I do worry for how abled gamers might perceive and justify James within the wider context of society.

There isn't much point to this post. Its just a ramble, and an internal struggle, I've dealt with for a little while and decided to finally try and hash out.

[pphsreflections]

Machines Roaming the Earth

Alex and Eddy continue their journey across the land, in search of Eddy’s creator. Alex suddenly stops and Eddy asks, “What is it, you smell something?” Then the voice in his head says, “Danger is in close proximity.” Then Eddy, without looking, puts his arm up and catches an arrow in midair. He turns his head a full 180 degrees. He then looks down in shock and says, “What the hell, oh my god, what is this?!” He looks and his vision changes. He suddenly notices a heat signature high in the trees about 30 yards away. 

He hears the person whispering, “Sh*t, I’ve been spotted, gotta bail.” 

The person climbs down the tree and Alex chases after him. The person runs through the trees and bushes. The constant snapping of twigs and leafs made it easier to follow this mystery man. Eddy keeps running and the voice asks, “Would you like to activate your weapons system?” His hand transforms and he takes a shot at the man. The person dodges but the blast hits the trees in front of him. They fall, blocking his path, and Alex tackles him. The mechanical growling is all this person could hear. Eddy notices the hood on her head and unveils who this person his. “This female is 5 '10, a master in martial arts, and stealth. Her name is Cassidy Reed, a warrior of a specialized group who takes pride in hunting down machines.” “Cassidy Reed?” 

She answers, “YOUR DOG IS CRUSHING ME! GET OFF!!” 

“Alex get off of her!” Alex obeys and Cassidy tries running away again. The computer says “Activate… extension arms.” Eddy’s arms extend and he catches her without even moving. He gasps and smiles in delight. 

“Her emotional state seems to be a mixture of anger and sadness.” Eddy lets her go and says, “Ok, first of all, why did you try and shoot me with an arrow? What did I do wrong?” 

“She looks at him in disbelief and says, “What did you do wrong, are you serious? You attacked my people, and forced us into hiding. You and your kind are a disease that need to be cleansed.” She pulls out a sword and tries to cut his head off, but without looking, he grabs it and snaps the blade off. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about. I didn’t do anything, I don’t even remember who I am. I’m lost, trying to find my way.” She looks at him in shock, a cyborg who isn’t entirely evil? Who would’ve guessed? 

She stutters, “I...I...I don’t believe you.” 

She takes out a device from her bag and Eddy says, “Are you going to try and hit me with that?” 

She replies, “Maybe, if you don’t shut it.” She puts this strange device, which looks similar to an eyepiece, over her eye and she looks at him with pity. “You’re alone, well not entirely, you have this beast with you.” Alex growls. “You want to find your maker. I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t be quick to judge. My father always said not all machines were horrible. I chose to ignore him and listen to everyone else.”

Alex remarks, “Wait, you come from civilization, can you lead us, maybe we can find my creator there.” 

Cassidy replies quickly, “No, bad idea.”

After the discussion, Cassidy tells Eddy to not go with her. The only question he has is, “Why?”

“My people hate machines. They have to survive on scraps. They can barely have a full meal nowadays. Machines like yourself are responsible for that. Ever since this war, we have been trying to eradicate the machines from our world. They have studied your kind for years. For you, going to them would be suicide.”

“But I look human, how would they know?”

“Well for one, your dog would give you away. Unless you let him go, or kill him.”

“What! Hell no, that’s out of the question.” Alex growls louder than before.

“How long have you had him?”

“I don’t know, about… 1 hour.”

“Why do you insist on keeping him then!?”

“He’s the only one I have right now. I don’t really have a choice.”

“Fine, but either way, they will know you’re a machine. You have slits on your face and arms. A sign of metal plates covering the wires. You're done for.”

“Activate… cloaking system.” Eddy says, “Wait what?” He looks at his arms, only to realise, he could see through them.

“Hey, hello, where are you, where did you go?”

“Did I just...turn invisible?”

“Every cyborg I’ve ever seen, has never been able to do THAT. What kind of machine are you?”

“This keeps getting better and better.” he says with a smirk.

So they travel for about two hours, marching across the fields as the sky turns pink. The setting sun slowly fades from the horizon, and by 3 hours, it becomes a starry night. Eddy looked up at the stars, and then he asked Cassidy, “So, why did you hate me so much?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you seemed pretty angry when I caught you. Was it something personal.”

She sheds a tear and yells, “So what, now you want my life story!?”

She walks faster, ahead of him, and he remarks to Alex, “You better stay back. She can be a little tense.” He catches up to her and says, “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you or anything. I just wanted to get to know you.”

She looks at him less as a machine, and more as a man. “No, it’s fine, I just… with all that’s been going on, I’ve never really had time to relieve all this stress. I never have time for almost...anything, much less small talk.” She looks into his eyes with sympathy, as he is the first person to actually care about what she feels. “You know, I’m sorry for almost shooting you in the head with an arrow.”

They both chuckle and Eddy says, “It’s fine.”

“You’ve been really kind, and I thank you for that.” Eddy struggles with what to say. As he’s about to speak, Cassidy quietly says, “Cloak yourself, quickly, we’re almost there.”

“But why now, I don’t see anything.”

“Just do it!” He tries, but his legs are still visible. She notices and says, “Come on, this is no time for fun and games.”

“I’m trying.”

“Ok, um…” She notices a bush and says, “Hide behind there.”

He does so and a camera pops out of the grass and asks, “Retinal scan and voice command are required for access.” 

“Cassidy Reed.” Suddenly, a secret door opens up and a stairway appears.

“Access… GRANTED!”

“Come on, we have to go.”

Eddy pops up from the bush and tells Alex, “Stay here, okay?” Alex nods and Eddy pounds his thighs saying, “Come on, not now, come on!” He hits them again, and now he can’t see his legs. “Perfect, okay let’s go.”

“All right, you ready to meet the P.O.T.?”

“The what?”

“The P.O.T”

“So.. POT” Eddy snickers. “What does it stand for?”

“Pro-Organic-Team.”

Eddy snickers much harder and Cassidy says, “Oh, come on.”

“I’m sorry, that’s just funny to me.”

They enter a cave and find an elevator. It goes down for a long while to reveal an entire colony. A bunch of average sized huts and huge spotlights above them lighting up the cave. The entire area seemed to be surrounded by a metal dome. Eddy smiles and has this look of awe as he looks around. He sees a training ground, and the gates and fences seem to be made from the remains of broken machines, and the weapons were no exception. He notices the giant digital clocks all around the dome as well.

Cassidy says, “Yeah, pretty cool right? Almost everything is made from the remains of machines, even the pavement you’re standing on. We do this to honor those who fought the machines with their lives. Don’t worry, most people usually come back alive after fighting machines… barely.” Eddy takes note of this and hears some people moaning and groaning while being carried to what seems like a medical station. He then notices a gateway leading to an upstairs area and asks, “Where does that go to?”

All of a sudden, a voice echoes across the area saying, “Everyone, gather around at the training arena immediately please!” The colony, including Eddy and Cassidy, gather at the arena to see a man standing on a wooden stool. The man looks as though he’s been through war, with burn marks on his face, a brownish-looking burnt eye, and huge scars on his arm. He has the demeanor of someone who’s competent and knows how to lead. His clothing is a ripped up cloak that has a mixture of dark and light brown. He holds a spear and Eddy sees chains dangling from the bottom of the blade, some which seem to be rusting. The bottom half of it is colored white as opposed to the top half being brown. He shouts, “Folks, today we gather around in recognition, as this day is the day all of this started. Six years ago, on April sixth, 2023, a man; Dr. Jason Deer, decided to plunge this world into total mayhem. Those who fought bravely against those horrid creatures, will always be remembered. And remember, even in the darkest of times, we still have each other, we still have our will, and that’s what keeps us going. To POT!”

The crowd yells, “TO POT!”

Eddy snickers, trying to hold back a laugh and Cassidy says, “Hey, have a little respect.”

Eddy replies, “Sorry.”

The man continues, “Let us take a moment to think about those who sacrificed themselves, to allow us to live on. Meeting adjourned.”

The computer tells Eddy “Power levels, draining, quickly. Conserving power. Systems failing.” Eddy looks at his legs and he starts to see them again. He whispers to Cassidy, “Psst, hey come here.”

They hide behind a hut and Cassidy asks, “What?” She looks at his legs and says quickly, “What are you doing? Turn back!”

“I can’t. I need to conserve power. Most of my systems are shutting down.”

“Ok, well… we’ll go through that door. It leads upstairs to our library.”

“You have a library?”

“Let’s go, but, be stealthy.” They walk slowly through the town and hid whenever someone was close by. They were just a few feet away, but eventually they had nowhere to hide and they had run as quickly as possible to the door. They go up the stairs and there was a woman behind the desk. Cassidy tells Eddy “Stay put.” and she walks up to the woman and says, “Hey Jessica, how are you?”

She replies back, “Great, how are things with your friend, the cyborg?”

Dylan Pados - gr. 11

[nathanielburgos]

If You Love America, Thank an Immigrant on Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving as you debate President Trump’s most outrageous quotes at the dinner table, take a moment to thank an immigrant.

Immigration reform may have many Americans divided, but we should all agree on this – immigrants have given back to America in spades. Immigrant contributions to this country are endless. For over two hundred years, immigrants’ contributions have helped shape the United States into what it is today. Let’s give thanks.

Thank an Immigrant in Your Family

If you’re not an immigrant yourself, you can start with a salute to your ancestors. Americans are all pilgrims in one form or another. With the exception of a small number of Native Americans, we all came to America as pilgrims or have ancestors that were pilgrims. Regardless if the trip was made on the Mayflower in 1620 or a Boeing 747 in 2014, families took a leap of faith in search of a better life.

Thank a Founding Father

The United States is the world’s lighthouse for democracy – thanks to immigrants. Although not perfect, the American government was set up with checks and balances that provide strength and stability unlike any other national government. The Constitution is the brainchild of our founding fathers, a group of people with roots in other countries with imperfect political and economic systems. They settled in a new land to found something greater, something that today is the United States of America.

Did You Know? Casimir Pulaski (March 6, 1745 – October 11, 1779) was a Polish nobleman, soldier and military commander who has been called “the father of the American cavalry.” He also saved the life of George Washington. In 2009, the U.S. granted him honorary citizenship.

It isn’t just the separation of powers that makes our Constitution great. What about the freedom of religion? Freedom of speech? And freedom of press? These amendments, known collectively known as the Bill of Rights, make up a beautiful collection of rules that provide equality and justice for all.

It’s safe to say that the Constitution and the country that grew from it could not have been so brilliant without the unique immigrant perspective of our founding fathers. On Thanksgiving, be sure to thank an immigrant founder.

Thank an Immigrant Entrepreneur

While our Founding Fathers built the foundation for America’s success, early immigrants set the stage for creating an economy unequaled by any other in the world. Columnist George F. Will once wrote that immigration itself is an “entrepreneurial act.” Immigrants have to be willing to risk a lot to leave their home country in pursuit of more promising opportunity in America. They are the same personalities that are willing to challenge the status quo in business, science and technology.

Did You Know? One man, a South African-born entrepreneur, founded PayPal, SpaceX and Tesla Motors. Like Henry Ford, J.P. Morgan and the men that built America before him, Elon Musk is changing the business landscape forever with innovative technological advancements. Read more >>

In fact, there are countless immigrants that have started iconic American businesses. They include Procter & Gamble (William Procter from England and James Gamble from Ireland), DuPont (Éleuthère Irénée du Pont de Nemours of France), Comcast (Daniel Aaron from Germany), Sun Microsystem (Vinod Khosla from India), Colgate (William Colgate from England), Wang Laboratories (Dr. An Wang from China), NVIDIA (Jen-Hsun Huang from Taiwan), Levi Strauss (Levi Strauss from Germany), Kohl’s (Max Kohl from Poland), Anheuser-Busch (Eberhard Anheuser & Adolphus Busch from Germany), Google (Sergey Brin from Russia), Intel (Andy Grove from Hungary), Bose Audio (Amar Bose from India), Yahoo! (Jerry Yang from China), Goldman Sachs (Marcus Goldman from Germany), Kraft (James Kraft from Canada), News Corp. (Rupert Murdoch from Australia), and Nordstrom (John Nordstrom from Sweden).

These are just a few of the long-standing businesses created by immigrants that are responsible for millions of U.S. jobs created. There are countless more technology startups with immigrant founders trying to create the next generation of jobs. Let’s thank an immigrant entrepreneur.

Thank an Innovator/Inventor

Immigrants have made monumental contributions to science, technology and engineering. Their innovations and inventions have resulted in major U.S. companies (see above) and even new industries. A few of the other immigrant innovators include: VA Shiva Ayyadurai, inventor of email (India); Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone (Scotland); Ole Evinrude, inventor of the outboard motor for boats (Norway); Charles Kao, “Father of Fiber Optics” (China); Willem Kolff, inventor of artificial kidney (Netherlands); Dr. James Naismith, inventor of basketball (Canada); John Augustus Roebling, designer of the Brooklyn Bridge (Germany); and Yellapragada Subbarao, renowned cancer researcher (India).

Did You Know? David Ho (born November 3, 1952) is a Chinese American HIV/AIDS researcher who gained notoriety for pioneering the use of protease inhibitors in treating HIV-infected patients with his team. Ho is the scientific director and CEO of the Aaron Diamond AIDS Research Center.

Let’s thank an immigrant innovator for contributions to Science, Technology, Engineering and Math.

Thank an Entertainer

There are far too many immigrant entertainers to name them all. Immigrants infuse our sports teams, fascinate us with their musical talents and amuse us on the big screen. Some of the notable names over the years include: Mikhail Baryshnikov (Russia), Adrián Beltré (Dominican Republic), Yul Brynner (Russia), Miguel Cabrera (Venezuela), Jim Carrey (Canada), Andy Garcia (Cuba), Alfred Hitchcock (England), Bob Hope (England), Harry Houdini (Hungary), Bob Marley (Jamaica), Dave Matthews (South Africa), Paul Rodriguez (Mexico), Gene Simmons (Israel), Albert Pujols (Dominican Republic), Charlize Theron (South Africa), and Eddie Van Halen (Netherlands).

Did You Know? Arnold Schwarzenegger (born July 30, 1947) is an Austrian American actor, producer, businessman, philanthropist, former professional bodybuilder and politician. Schwarzenegger gained worldwide notoriety as an actor in several blockbuster films and  as the 38th Governor of California.

We have some of the best entertainers and performers in the world. Thank an immigrant entertainer the next time you’re enjoying yourself. View more famous immigrant birthdays.

Thank an Immigrant Veteran

There are currently over 30,000 non-citizens serving in the U.S. Armed Forces. Approximately 129,587 members of the military have naturalized to become U.S. citizens since 2001. Immigrants have sacrificed for this country since the revolutionary war and continue to serve with honor in areas of conflict today.

Hyman George Rickover (January 27, 1900 – July 8, 1986) was a Polish American four-star admiral of the U.S. Navy who is known as the “Father of the Nuclear Navy.” He directed the original development of naval nuclear propulsion and controlled its operations for three decades.

Did You Know? Lance Cpl. Jose Gutierrez (January 1, 1981 – March 21, 2003) was a Guatemalan American Marine rifleman dreaming to become a U.S. citizen and architect. He was killed in action in Iraq and was awarded U.S. citizenship posthumously. Gutierrez came to the U.S. undocumented and left us a hero. Read more >>

Sergeant Uday Singh (April 23, 1982 – December 1, 2003) was one of the first Americans to die during Operation Iraqi Freedom. For his actions Uday, an Indian American U.S. Army soldier, received the Bronze Star and Purple Heart.

These are just a handful of the thousands of immigrants who serve in the U.S. Armed Forces. Remember to thank an immigrant veteran and learn more about immigrants in the military.

About CitizenPath

CitizenPath provides simple, affordable, step-by-step guidance through USCIS immigration applications. Individuals, attorneys and non-profits use the service on desktop or mobile device to prepare immigration forms accurately, avoiding costly delays. CitizenPath allows users to try the service for free and provides a 100% money-back guarantee that USCIS will accept the application or petition. We provide support for the Petition to Help a Relative Obtain a Green Card (Form I-130), Citizenship Application (Form N-400), and several other commonly used USCIS forms.

  The post If You Love America, Thank an Immigrant on Thanksgiving appeared first on CitizenPath.

If You Love America, Thank an Immigrant on Thanksgiving published first on https://ordergcmsnotescanada.tumblr.com/

[saoldicheangailte-blog]

BIO/STATS

warning for cancer, death, murder, abuse/manipulation, age-gap relationship, violence against / murder of sex workers. more may be added to the story

Linda Olwyn Mulrennan is born on the 31st of October 1990. Of course her parents then laugh that she’s a ready-made horror baby -- even though, to begin with, she’s wary, even frightened of anything that could be scary. Oh, but she grows into that love; watching anything criminal and horrific and terrifying behind the safety of a TV screen, and taking a giddy delight in watching schlocky gore cross her vision. Her parents and younger brother don’t quite share her enthusiasm.

Does she have friends? Yes, but she’s shit at keeping in contact with them. If they want to be her friends, they’ll make the effort; Linda loves her own company, and loves the company of others, but wow, it is difficult to ask for what she wants and not come off as needy or annoying.

Except for Daniela Alden. Best friends since year three, and near-inseparable. But, as with anyone else, Linda makes little effort unless prompted, and it’s when Daniela moves with her family after mandatory schooling finishes that Linda finds herself more alone. It’s a very big drop, a big gap in her life. A void.

School, all the while, goes well enough (her temper does flare, and she’s prone to crying, and she has been violent), and her life is cosy enough, and she’s on the way to a good life if she keeps herself focused on it.

And she does get into A-Level college, and university. But being away from her family -- all the way on the opposite end of the country -- hits in a slow, year-long wave, and she withdraws, coming home for good, promising to look for a job. She’ll need help, of course, because she’s so new to so many things.

It does take some dredging through new and unlikeable experiences -- applying for jobs she’s not sure she’s suited for, and being rejected, and growing resentment for this unfairness -- but she takes what she can. A summer job at the library on shit pay by the hour; an autumn job at a shop with, surprise, shit pay by the hour.

Then New Year’s comes around, and she’s jobless, and her mum has cancer. But it’s fine! It’s the most curable type -- a 90% success rate. But mum’s a smoker, and her lung capacity hinders the possibility of going on the usual treatment, so she has to take something weaker.

And it works a little. But not enough.

Still, life has to go on, so Linda’s on the hunt for another job, even though she can’t but think what if? what if the next one doesn’t work? Dad, now off from work and taking Mum to the hospital for her treatments, admits the same fear when he’s drunk off his face. Her little brother doesn’t say much about anything. She thinks other things: it has to work. it will work. everything will be ok. She uses some of her government allowance on a gym subscription; something to keep her mind and body busy while she’s not on the search.

The next treatment does jack shit.

Linda thinks about cosmos; the universe is a chewing toddler, taking unfair bites out of the best parts of itself. Why’d it have to be Mum? Why not someone else? Someone she hates?

The next -- and last -- treatment does jack shit.

Mum’s going to die.

Linda drops her gym subscription -- pain in the goddamn ass to get out of -- and finally, oh, finally, finds a steady job at a fancy-ass restaurant. It’s waiting tables and the managers are pricks, but fuck it, she can keep face.

It’s 2013, the 12th of June, when Mum finally leaves them. It’s been two and a half years since that New Year’s Eve. It’s been six months since she started the job.

She would kill to have Mum back.

The funeral is in a month. It has a turn out of an uncountable many. Tears spill like damns. Mum was a good, loving, lovable person. It could’ve been anyone else.

On her nights off, when she has a holiday, she goes to the pub with her dad, and gets tipsy. Because even with Mum dead, and the hurt hanging over her head, she can still have some sort of happiness.

But she still would kill to have her mum back.

Three nights before New Year’s Eve leading into 2014 finds her wandering from home, her head cycling through people she’s hated and wanted dead, and the night is so dark, so quiet. And she doesn’t hear whatever it is creeping up -- or speeding up? -- on her.

It’s the day before New Year’s Eve, and she awakes, groggy and stiff and in the hospital her mum used to work at, her dad and brother at her side. They’re both worried and relieved, and she can only offer confused shrugs and i don’t know.

It doesn’t take her long to figure out that something’s not right with her body. She’s cold all the time. Her body hurts. She checks her pulse, just in case. Or tries to -- she’s never been great at finding it, but she has found it before. She tries. Repeatedly. There’s nothing.

And no matter how many times she showers, there’s a faint stench about her -- raw meat, compost, blood and pennies.

It’s the 14th of February, and Linda goes for a walk, on leave (dismissed) from her job. It’s midnight. There’s a leering little twerp -- she recognises him. Why couldn’t it have been him instead?

Her stomach growls.

When she returns home, she hides her clothes and coat in her bedroom, scared awake for the rest of the night. Linda waits until her brother and dad leave to come out of her room -- shower and wash her clothes.

She can’t stay with them. She’ll hurt them.

But leaving -- again -- hurts. It’ll hurt them.

She leaves a note on the kitchen counter.

“Dear Dad & Aidan.    I’m so sorry for leaving you, but I have to. I know there’s nothing I can say that’ll make you not worry, but please believe me when I tell you that I’m doing what’s best. I won’t hurt myself, or kill myself, but it’s better for you both that I leave. I just wish that I could’ve left under better circumstances, and that I wasn’t like this. I don’t even know what ‘this’ is; I don’t know what I am anymore. And I want to tell you what I did, but I can’t stand the thought of you being disgusted with me, of not believing me. Even though it doesn’t matter because no explanation can excuse me -- even though I believed I was right, wholly right.    All my love forever,    Linny”

She starts heading south.

---

She’s in London, her legs tired and screaming to sit down as she wanders in the National Museum, and it’s here where Edward Sumner finds her. He recognises her; she doesn’t recognise him. She’s homeless; he has room and board. She doesn’t have a job, no name; he says he can look after her.

She tells him her name is Tilly Matherson.

She recalls temporary stays at first, then sleeping over, then becoming an official tenant. She can only imagine what it looks like; a young barely-woman staying with a thirty-something man. Disgusting, right?

But it’s on a night, long after, over a month without eating--- he’s the one who shares what he is, telling her she’s not alone, after he finds her scrabbling with meat ( meat catcalled, called her a whore, so meat’s only getting what it deserves! ). He combs back her hair, and joins in the feast, his laugh a dark and bloody thing.

She wonders if it’s a good idea to stay. But he’s been so kind to her, been so inviting. He’s the only one she knows that’s like her.

He directs, makes dates for feasting. He is her mentor. He becomes her friend. He becomes slightly more. And that’s just fine, even though there’s another part that screams it’s not. That even though the meat is womanly and vulnerable, they are unsuitable mothers, so it’s fine, it’s necessary, it’s a favour.

How could she blindly agree to this filth? How could it only unravel after two years when she finds his fucking scrapbook, his photographs of his victims, of his protegee. ( Oh God, he knew it was me. He knew. He knew! ) It only hits her then that she’s an accomplice in this self-indulgent, cliche horror story; human flesh is necessary for her ‘survival’, but she has enough nouse to understand right from wrong, to make her own decisions on who is deserving.

And Edward is very deserving. He taught well, overwell, and she wins. She is bloody, and full, and flees. She carries the scrapbook and the memories of every woman’s screams and fights for life with her.

---

In Gloucestershire, she’s found by Tobias Newman. Or, rather, she’s tackled to the ground in the dark, something sharp against the hollow of her neck. She begs, bargains, pleads, offers help. She intends to keep it, and he must know and believe because he eases up, although his eye is wary; he knows what she does.

She is thankful. She is indebted. She wants a cure.

Wishful thinking, but there is a search for one.

She follows him home, side-by-side, and he is someone she can actually trust. He isn’t Eddy.

Then there’s Charlotte Outlaw, another hunter of horrid things. And Daniela. Who would’ve thought?

Linda can’t quite get rid of the solid pill of regret from her throat.

---

BASICS

Name: Linda Olwyn Mulrennan

Alias: Lin, Lindy, Linny, L.O., My Little Sugarplum (by mum), Perpetua, Tilly Matherson, Brenda Lords, Sylvie LaRue, Martha Coleridge, Magdalene Stark

Age: 23~ (verse-dependent)

DOB: 31/10/1990

POB: Liverpool, England

Race/Ethnicity: White/Irish-Welsh

Languages spoken: English, highschool French, Irish, Welsh

Sexuality & Romantic Orientation: Bisexual

Gender: Cis female; she/her pronouns

Level of education: 1 year of university; drop-out

||| A-Level: History, English Language, French

||| University: History

Species: Human; undead?

Occupation(s): Student; Part-time librarian; Shop assistant; 

FAMILY

Father: Joseph Brendan Mulrennan, nee Devlin (alive) (FC: Eion Bailey)

Mother: Caroline Louise Mulrennan, nee Baines (deceased)

Brother: Joseph Aidan Mulrennan (alive)

Grandfathers: Ronan Joseph Devlin (paternal, biological, deceased) ; Peter Andrew Mulrennan (paternal, adoptive, deceased) ; Lucas Dylan Baines (maternal, deceased)

Grandmothers: Lydia Norah Mulrennan, nee Devlin, nee Finnegan (paternal, alive) ; Meredith Ruby Baines, nee Merrick (maternal, alive)

EXTERNAL

Eyes: Dark green, wide, big

Hair: Black, wavy, long, tangly, thick

Skin: Fair/pale, freckled, reddened

Build: Thick, athletic, toned, middling height, heavy, solid

Height: 5′4″

Weight: 170 lbs

Misc.: Poor eyesight/shortsighted, not prone to common illnesses (colds & coughs), above average physical fitness

FC: Bailee Madison (subject to change/younger FC)

INTERNAL

Intelligence: Overall average.

Mindset: Determined, crumbles easily, anxious, introvert.

Personality: Shy, friendly, kind, vicious, funny, loud, self-destructive/self-sabotaging.

Fears: Death, living forever, harm of her loved ones, being found out.

[dukereviewstv]

Duke Reviews TV: Smallville 1x20 Obscura

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews TV Where We Are Continuing Our Look At Smallville By Talking About Episode 20 Of Season 1, Obscura...

This Episode Sees Lana Gaining The Ability To See Through Other People's Eyes When She's Caught In An Explosion Near Some Meteor Rock Fragments...

This Power Comes In Handy During The Episode As Lana's New Powers Let Her See Through The Eyes Of A Person Who Kidnaps Chloe And It's Up To Her And Clark To Find Chloe And Rescue Her, Will They Find Chloe And Stop The Kidnapper Before He Kidnaps Someone Else?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Obscura...

The Episode Starts In A Field Where Lana And Whitney Are Riding Their Horses...

Slowing Their Horses Down, Whitney Asks Lana To The Spring Formal (Despite Next Week's Episode Being His Last As Full Time Cast Member) Only To Hear A Loud Explosion That Spooks Their Horses...

Tieing Their Horses Up, Lana And Whitney Go Toward The Source Of The Explosion Which Happens To Be A Gas Main On Fire, Seeing Another Pipe Near Them Shake Whitney Shows The Guys Trying To Fix The Gas Main Only For Them To Decide That It's Time To Clear Out...

With Whitney Telling Lana To Run...

Yeah (In The Style Of Forrest Gump) Run, Lana, Run...

The Gas Main Explodes In The Style Of Michael Bay Apparently...

All That's Missing Is Shia Labeouf Going No, No, No, No, No A Billion Times And Ben Affleck Saying That It's A Homage To Which I Got A Feeling That's What This Explosion Was...

Taking Lana To The Hospital, Whitney Tells Clark That They Gave Lana Something To Sleep But She'll Most Likely Pull Through...

With Chloe Stopping By To Check On Lana, Clark Knows That She Should Be Half Way To Metropolis Right Now As She Has An Interview For The Daily Planet's Summer Internship Program But Despite That Chloe Saying That She Could Reschedule Clark Knows How Important This Is To Her So Chloe Takes Off...

But As Clark Gets Coffee With Whitney, Lana Sees Chloe Being Taken Outside Of The Hospital By Some Mysterious Person...

The Next Day At The Kent Farm, Martha Talks With Clark About The Spring Formal, Before Lex Enters As Clark Leaves To Deliver A Very Generous Check To Jonathan And Martha For The Chemical Spill That Happened Earlier In The Season In The Episode Zero For The Land And Livestock They Lost, All Lex Wants In Return Is To Leave Any Doubt Between Them In The Past To Which Jonathan Agrees...

Later At School, Lana Stop By The Torch To See Chloe But Clark Tells Her That She's In Metropolis Until Tonight, Asking Why, Lana Tells Clark About Her Dream About Chloe Being Kidnapped. Offering To Call Her Dad To See If Chloe's Okay, Lana Decides To Let It Go For Now As She Doesn't Want To Make Her Father Worry...

Back At The Luthor Mansion, Lex Gets A Visit By Roger Nixon When He Hears About Lex's Visit By Carrie Castle In The Episode Drone....

(Start At 0:26, End At 1:35)

Worried About Chloe As She Hasn't Called Yet, Jonathan Tells Clark Not To Worry About It As She'll Probably Call Eventually, But Talking About Their Broken Tractor, Clark Knows What He Spend Lex's Check On However There's One Problem, Jonathan Hasn't Cashed It Yet And He Doesn't Know If He's Going To As Something Is Telling Him That It's A Bad Idea...

But When Clark Says That Slamming The Door In Lex's Face Over And Over Will Only Turn Lex Into His Father, Jonathan Tells Clark He'll Sleep On It...

Stopping By The Torch Afterwards, Clark Talks With Pete (Who Tells Him That He's Taking One Of The Hottest Girls In School To The Spring Formal) Before Talking With Lana About Chloe Before She Has Another Vision Of Chloe Tied Up In A Funhouse And That The Kidnapper Is Apparently One Of The Flying Monkeys From The Wiz...

Telling Clark What She Saw, Him And Lana Call The Police And Chloe's Father (Who Hasn't Heard From Chloe All Day And Is Starting To Get Concerned) To 9 Tell Them About What She Saw And Despite One Officer Laughing It Off The Other Officer Says They'll Look Into It...

Getting A Call From Someone, Chloe's Father Tells Clark And Lana That They Found Chloe's Car Abandoned In The Woods...

Meanwhile On The Other Side Of Town, Nixon Takes Lex To Talk With His Source, A Former Crop Duster Named Eddie Cole Who Was Dusting Baker's Field The Day Of The Meteor Shower And Saw Something Come Down That Looked More Like A Spaceship Than A Meteor...

Hours Later He Went To Check It Only To Find It Gone...

With Lex Believing That Eddie Is...Well...

Lex Tells Roger To Come Up With Something Better Before He Leaves...

Visiting Clark At His Barn, He Tells Lana That He Searched The Woods With His Father And Chloe's Dad And Found Nothing, So Tomorrow They're Going To Organize A Search Party...

This Leads Clark To Tell Lana About When He First Met Chloe...

(Start At 1:12, End At 2:06)

But As Lana Starts To Leave After That, She Has Another Vision Of Chloe Being Buried Alive At Chandler's Field, Superspeeding There, Clark Uses His X-Ray Vision And Finds Chloe Before She Runs Out Of Air...

Immensely Happy To See Clark, Clark Takes Her To The Hospital So She Can Recuperate After What Happened They Ask Chloe If She Saw Anything But She's Too Traumatized To Remember Right Now Either Way Though She Thanks Lana For Picking A Good Time To Be Weird And Decides To Relax...

As Lana Walks Down The Hospital Hallway She Has Another Vision Of Chloe's Kidnapper Except This Time He's Watching Her...

Coming Home Late From The Hospital, Clark Gives Jonathan A Hand With Bags Of Cornfeed That Need To Be Delivered To Another Farm While Talking To Him About Chloe, Lana And Her Visions And If Jonathan Plans On Cashing That Check To Which The Answer Is Yes After They Deliever The Feed....

But As They Drive Over, They Find Lex And A Crew Of Men Going Over A Piece Of Land, Asking Lex What's Going On, He Tells Jonathan And Clark That He's Thinking About Buying The Land For An Agricultural Project But He Wanted To Test The Soil First...

Asking About The Hazmat Suits And Metal Detectors, Lex Tells Jonathan That That's Because They Think That There May Have Been A Meteor Strike On The Site And With Luthorcorp's Environmental Record Taking A Hit Recently And It Never Hurts To Cross Your T's And Dot Your I's

Not Buying Lex's Story, Jonathan Gives Lex Back His Check Saying That He Can't Accept It. Asking Why His Father Did That As People Test Land All The Time, Jonathan Tells Clark That This Land Was Where His Spaceship Landed Years Ago And If They Find Anything, They'll Trace It Back To Clark...

Later That Night, Whitney Visits Lana At The Talon After Going Through His Father's Things And While Doing So He Comes Across Some Military Medals That His Father Got From His Time In Vietnam. Seeing This As A Sign That His Father Is Telling Him That Throwing A Football Isn't The Only Way To Do Something Important With His Life...

Visiting Clark In His Barn, Lex Says That He Owes Jonathan An Apology But He Doesn't Know Why Exactly But Despite Saying It's Not You, It's Him Lex Gets A Feeling Clark Doesn't Believe Him Either

(Start At 2:13)

Doing Research At The Torch, Clark Is Surprised By Chloe Who Decided That Relaxing Will Only Give Her Nightmares So The Best Place For Her To Be Is There...

Calling Whitney To Drop By, Clark Tells Whitney And Chloe That The Explosion Caused Lana's Visions, Giving Her De Kretser Syndrome Which Is A Post Traumatic Stress Disorder That Caused People In Bomb Shelters In London To Become Psychically Linked To One Another And It Only Happens When The Person Is Stressed, Angry Or Excited

Clark Also Discovered That There Were Meteor Rocks At The Site And The Energy Must Have Binded Lana To Someone There, Asking Whitney Who Was There, He Tells Clark That It Was Only Him And The 2 Officers, Watts And Vertigo But It All Happened So Fast Whitney Has No Idea Of Which Of Officers It Could Be...

Visited By Vertigo At The Talon, Lana Makes Him A Cup Of Coffee Only To Get Another Vision Of The Kidnapper Entering The Talon And Hitting Vertigo On The Head So He Can Kidnap Lana...

So Yeah By The Time Clark, Chloe And Whitney Get There, Both Lana And The Kidnapper Are Gone With Vertigo Having No Clue Where He Went, Asking About Watts, Vertigo Tells Clark That He Has A Second Job At The Carnival Grounds And With It Closed It's The Perfect Place To Hide Someone...

With Lana Sitting Up To Call For Help, She Is Confronted By The Kidnapper Who Happens To Be Watts Who Only Kidnapped Chloe To Get Ahead In His Career As A Cop...

Which Is Kinda Stupid When You Think About It...

Trying To Salvage His Plan By Killing Lana And Solving Her Murder, Watts Is Stopped By Clark When He Bounces The Bullet Off Of His Hand And Into A Glass Mirror Above To Which Clark Covers Lana With His Body To Protect Her From The Falling Shards...

With Watts Trying To Escape, He's Thrown By Clark As The Police Arrive To Arrest Watts But Not Willing To Go Down Without A Fight, The Police Have No Choice But To Kill Watts...

A Perfect End To An Idiot With A Dumb Plan...

The Next Day On The Kent Farm, Chloe Arrives To Tell Clark That She Got The Internship At The Planet Because Of An Article She Wrote For The Ledger On Watts But Before She Can Leave Clark Asks Chloe To Accompany Him To The Spring Formal To Which She Says Yes...

Visited By Dr. Hamilton At The Mansion, He Tells Him Information That They Found On An Octagonal Disc They Found In The Field And It Turns Out That Whatever It Is, The Alloy That It Is Made Of Is Not Of This Earth And Reminding Us That Clark's Ship Has An Octagonal Hole And Most Likely That Disc Will Open Said Ship, Our Episode Ends...

And That's Obscura And Can I Say That This Is The Only Episode This Season That I Don't Care For?

It's All Right, It Has Possibilities For Being Good But In The End It Doesn't Pay Off Giving Us A Stupid Reason For Why Our Kidnapper Did It But Aside From The Story Not Being That Great The Characters Are Well Written And The Effects Are Okay, I Guess But Still This One's A Skip It For Me, If You Like It Good Enjoy It But For Me It's A No...

Tune In Next Week For The Final Episode Of Season 1 Of Smallville Till Then, This Is Duke, Signing Off...