#i used scary face instead of thunder fang

[goldensunset]

*skibby voice* i used to rule the world…

[pkmn-elavir]

Star Seekers: Characters

Star Seekers:

Raiko:

He/Him - 20 - Jolteon/Dusk Lycanroc Mix - Electric/Rock - Bold - Quick Feet - 0.8 m/2’7”

Moveset:

Thunder Shock

Bite

Thunder Fang

Rock Tomb

Raiko is very rambunctious and energetic, rarely sitting still. He likes adventure and battles, but of course only if his opponents are up for it, as it's all just for fun.

Fun Fact(s): Only one I don't even remember where I got the idea for. He has existed since 2019 and I have barely anything left of whatever the original idea was.

Roku:

He/Him - 22 - Archen/Zorua Mix - Flying/Dark - Careful - Defeatist - 0.6 m/2’0”

Moveset:

Fake Tears

Pluck 

Feint Attack

Ancient Power

Roku lives in a hidden underground base. He rarely leaves the base, fearing running into any other Pokémon.

Fun Fact(s): Started as an idea for an ask blog about a weird Archen who lives in an abandoned underground base. Originally was set in the regular Pokémon world with humans, he was just a weirdo who walked on his wings. He then got redesigned into Archen/Zorua mix.

Joki:

They/Them - 25 - Vaporeon Variant - Water/Grass - Relaxed - Water Absorb - 1 m/3’3”

Moveset:

Giga Drain

Water Pulse

Aurora Beam

Aqua Ring

Joki is quiet and calm most of the time, preferring solitude but not minding the company of their friends. They're very laid-back and always there for their friends.

Fun Fact(s): Created alongside Raiko but actually had something written down about them: The idea was a kelpie, or similar water creature inspired Vaporeon. The name is Finnish for river, but apparently also how you'd spell the word for vapor in Japanese with the Latin script. Very fitting for a Vaporeon. Later decided for them to be a Vaporeon variant with Water/Grass typing.

Toren:

He/Him - 26 - Umbreon/Houndoom Mix - Dark/Fire - Naughty - Unnerve - 1.1 m/3'7”

Moveset:

Bite

Fire Fang

Taunt

Scary Face

Likes to tease others, though he can come across as a little scary. Usually has Fern pull him back in line.

Fun Fact(s): First of the characters made specifically for this story. Decided to make him a mix of some of my favourite dark types. Decided to make the Umbreon markings red instead of yellow since I felt they looked better and then just went wild on the design from there.

Fern:

He/They - 28 - Leafeon/Ninetales Mix - Grass/Fire - Sassy - Chlorophyll - 1 m/3’3”

Moveset:

Magical Leaf

Flamethrower

Sunny Day

Synthesis

Seems nice and friendly but is even meaner than Toren, though can hold himself back better. Tends to behave as an older brother to the younger members.

Fun Fact(s): The one whose colours I struggled the most with. I could have gone for autumnal yellow orange brown, but I simply don't like those colours much so I went with shiny version so it would work with the greens better. The turquoise came from not wanting to use the brown of Leafeon and the purple of shiny Ninetales didn't work well so I went with something entirely different instead.

Vari:

He/They - 50s - Absol - Dark - Serious - Justified - 1.2 m/3’11”

Moveset:

Detect

Slash

Night Slash

Zen Headbutt

Very serious protector. Rarely interacts with others, so he’s a bit awkward around other Pokémon. Very kind and only wants to help others to the best of their abilities.

Fun Fact(s): The design idea was an immediate idea, but then I struggled with the name. I went with varis (Finnish for crow) but without the s.

Legendaries:

Zero:

They/Them - Centuries - Reshiram/Zygarde Mix - Dragon/Fire - Quiet - Turboblaze - 4 m/13’1”

Moveset:

Outrage

Blue Flare

Earthquake

Glare

Loner who rarely shows themself around others. Though they prefer solitude, they cannot abandon someone in need.

Fun Fact(s): Started from an idea to fuse my two favourite legendaries together. I made a custom preset in Feral Heart to make the idea true many years ago. Though I have no idea what the character's name was, as all of that is gone, I had some images saved. The name is just first thing I thought of when mixing some of the letters from the legendaries together. For this story though I decided to use Zygarde's 10% instead of the 50% I used originally, so it's a new design.

Astrolupe:

They/It - Eons - Astrolupe - Psychic - Gentle - Starblind (Prevents the opponents from targeting any other Pokémon) - 3 m/9’10”

Endlessly kind and caring, always working hard to make sure everyone is happy, even to the point of neglecting their own well-being.

Fun Fact(s): Idea that started as me realizing I wanted a legendary but none of the existing matching with the theme and design I like together. Eventually worked out as a way of explaining the eggs. The name is just space related word + canine related word that felt like they worked well enough together.

Cygnova:

He/They/It - Eons - Cygnova - Dark - Lonely - Slow Pull (Lowers opponents’ speed over time) - 4.2 m/13’9”

Used to enjoy his job and working together with Astrolupe, but grew bitter as Pokémon began seeing death as a terrible thing. It withdrew from Astrolupe, though they were the only one who truly loved it. Struggling with the various negative emotions led to him striking at Astrolupe.

Fun Fact(s): Counterpart to Astrolupe that didn't exist at first but realized I might as well make and went from there. The name is Cyg from the first known black hole Cygnus X-1 (abbreviated Cyg X-1) + nova from supernova. I somehow accidentally gave both of them exactly 4 tails without meaning to. I just drew tails till I felt it was a good number. Apparently that number was exactly 4.

Side Characters:

Zar:

He/Him - 18 - Flygon - Ground/Dragon - Jolly - Levitate - 2 m/6’7”

Moveset:

Earthquake

Dragon Claw

Fly

Helping Hand

Enthusiastic and optimistic. Travels around to help other Pokémon with their troubles.

Fun Fact(s): A character I made a custom preset on Feral Heart. Simply called Flygonaut because the idea was Flygon + Raz Psychonauts. I guess I just felt the names and aesthetics (goggles) worked well I suppose? Anyway I do love Flygon so I decided to add him to this story as a side character.

Pokidoki:

He/They - 24 - Mightyena - Dark - Quirky - Quick Feet - 1 m/3’3”

Moveset:

Thief

Yawn

Sucker Punch

Play Rough

Very strange Mightyena who seems to not have grown up at all. They just want to play around all the time.

Fun Fact(s): Another character originating from Feral Heart. Pokidoki was one of my several FH accounts and I decided to make a character representing each account and this was Pokidoki, a red and white Mightyena with a big red collar. I kept the name even if it's a bit strange as an actual name. Decided to add them as another side character to show up in the story.

Character Height Comparison:

[martian-garden]

Stormwake

So up the hill at nightfall stride the sailors, engineers some have 'ready freed their tongues, are jostling their peers. And o'er it all two captains gaze each touched by different gods one clear skies, fluorescent suns the other lightning rods. And one is in the firelight, their spirit glowing bright. the other seeks to watch alone and blend in with the night. So tell us all a story, shouts a voice above the din. and softly now the server laughs and gestures with a grin. And shadows dance upon a face electrified and wild and from their perch on tabletop you'd swear they might've smiled. (shift in overall feel of music. at your discretion.) oh, oh, don't you know, don't you know? When comets fall and stars roar, and moonbeams tear the world away. You can see it all before it happens, but stopping it's beyond your sway. Don't you know, don't you know? the radar pixels, whispering warnings into your skies don't have a feel to the wood or steel. those clouds mean anything after a while shadows of storms that could've been or might be, ripping open your reality. you tighten your fingers on the rigging and wonder. you can smell the air change but the quiet won't quit, ozone isn't scary is it? long, long after you've memorized the scent you understand what it meant. skies open wide, wailing, crying, and your hand on the throttle hurts, hurts bones as old as you are screaming something is wrong, something is wrong, ribs shudder under oceanic compression: how many times now? enough that you know you won't capsize. instead the lightning traces burns in your eyes. Radio static cracks louder than thunder, louder than spouts or whirls or groaning metal, wicked isolation: you should have called, you should have called, but the line between a glare and grim prospects does not exist. keep the channel quiet, 'cept when needed. oh, don't you know? you don't know. You don't know, you don't know, as the wind slices paint off the bow twists your body in the water nearly sideways, and the voices in charcoal cry, are you drowning now, my dear, are you drowning ? You are in the cabin and none of it touches you, but you will die with the wreckage if you turn the rudder wrong. you don't know you don't know, you don't know, don't you know? And at some point the whirlpool of unknowing steals the strength from your veins your sabre fangs rust and not even a false god could make you hate another man quite the way you'd need to kill him. you are ringed in jewelry not for show but in the way the hull is reinforced beyond reason, the way your runs are slow: unsung, but altogether guaranteed. you don't know, you don't know Is this what it means to become the lynchpin, is this what it means to wish for stillness, feel your body sinking with your armor when you aren't fast enough. no chair for you now, no shape of you carved out and holding space, don't you know? don't you have a home? and all you want is to stand still. you want a story? you are meteors, and all I could hope remains by now is ash and vapor trails.

[sansmania]

I cant stop thinking about it please take the first part of this drabble before I go insane while writing part two

Title: Your Man

Ship: Boss [ @bonelyheartsclub ]/GN Reader

Descrip: I literally cannot stop thinking about this edgy fucker dressed like a COWBOY

~~~

Once you helped the skeleton family across the street settle into their new home- it was quite humorous how little they knew about suburban life- your life had seemed to be thrown into an unexpected whirlwind. They managed to keep you on your toes constantly; if it wasn't Nox and Blue's neverending bets and- albeit hilarious- dares, it was several of them literally appearing out if nowhere while you were home.

It was chaotic at the begining, but you eventually settled alongside the wild family, and crazy as they were- you wouldn't have it any other way at this point.

You'd adjusted to them barging into your home just as they had become accustomed to your presence in their own.

Well, that was a lie.

When the front door unceremoniously slammed open, followed by thundering footsteps and their owner's booming voice.

You might not ever get used to that.

"Human! Your assistance is required!" Your flinch wore off when you pinpointed which neighbor had nearly broken the front door. With a roll of your eyes and shoulders, you stood from your computer desk with a stretch.

"Alright, Boss. I'll be down in a second." You heard his impatient grumble as you tossed on a hoodie, slowly trudging downstairs. With a quirked brow, you caught his red eyelights, chuckling at his impatient foot tapping.

Which also caught your eye.

Boss was one of the 'cousins' that took great pride in his appearance- it seemed like his entire wardrobe could have been the same price as your home- so when you spotted his typically pristine boots in his hands and a pair of sneakers on his feet instead- the obnoxiously familiar orange painted them as Stretch's- you were shocked to say the least.

"Okay, what's up, Bossman?" He snorted indignantly, as if to say 'isnt it obvious' and let out an annoyed sigh, shoulders falling as he held the treasured boots out to show the chew marks that lined the soles and heels.

"Blue's little rat dog managed to get into my room and ahold of my favorite boots. And I trust your opinion, so I would like assistance in finding someone who can fix them." Clearing the space between you both, you reached out to assess the damage. The dark leather had pinprick teeth holes throughout, leaving stringy leather poking inward and outward. A few belts had been shredded and the clasps barely held on for dear life. It was a sad sight indeed.

You were a little surprised you didn't hear the innitial explosion from across the street.

"I really don't know of any cobblers around here, Boss." His eyes narrowed and you quickly held your hands up in defense. "B-but, hey, that's what google is for!" Pulling out your phone, you assured him there had to be somewhere local that could help.

And after a quick google search, you had come up with one location where Boss could get his precious boots repaired. But, the uneasy look on your face caught his attention.

"That expression is not reassuring at all." His voice was low, sounding ever so disappointed.

"N-no, it's not bad. There's a store in town that can fix them up- since they're kind of a specialty thing, it's a specialty shop."

"But, you seem unsure....?" You let out a nasally sigh.

"Boss, it's a cowboy shop. The Southern Cowboy. It specializes in real leather and cowboy apparel." His stare made you question why the thought bothered you more than him in that moment. "I just figured it wouldn't be your 'style' to be seen somewhere like that."

"Are there any other options?" Sadly, you shook your head. "Then I have no other choice. You see, these were a gift from an old friend, and I would really appreciate them not being a shredded mess for much longer." You understood the meaning- they held a sentimental value to Boss more than an aesthetic value- which was kind of a shock. You never took the standoff-ish, edgy, and downright scary skeleton as the sentimental type- especially not over a pair of shoes.

The thought warmed your heart and your face ever so slightly. That there could be a real tender soul underneath all the knives and fangs. You hadn't noticed the soft smile spreading across your cheeks until Boss made a more in character noise of impatience.

"Alright, alright. Let me throw on some real clothes and we can go, Boss." He seemed a bit happier with your willingness to help and waited in the living room while you got ready.

"And please, feel free to leave Stretch's disgusting hoodie behind. I would rather not have to deal with any more of his clothes for the day than what I already am." Boss shouted behind you as you reached the top of the stairs, causing your face to alight with embarrassed fury.

[siren1song]

Crying Out for More

Summary: Remus hasn’t seen another sea eldritch in two hundred years. Mostly because he was ran out of the community because he thought eating mers for power wasn’t that bad of a thing to do. And then Virgil brings an eldritch into the cave he’s been hiding in.

Warnings: Cannibalism, ask if more are needed

Pairing: Intruality

Word Count: 1,545

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17, @another-sandersidesblog, @strawberryjellystuff, @remusownsmyuwus, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit, @gr3ml1n-loser, @main-chive, @kiribakuandcats, @firey-alex, @orca-iguana, @spooky-scary-virgil, @yalltookmyurlideas, @sanderssidesweirdo, @stormypaint, @just-a-little-bit-gay-oops, @dying-is-a-hobby

Intruality Taglist: @jessibbb

Notes: This fic is specifically for Rem because I saw he was sad and I wasn’t going to stand fro that.

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

Remus had history. That came with living, but when that history involved your society rejecting you because you discovered you get a power boost from eating mers it kind of left a bitter taste.

He’s over it of course, he had roughly two hundred years to get over it. And he had Virgil now! Sure, he wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of him, he’d never had siren before, but Virgil was helping him heal.

Not with his own abilities of course, Remus kind of doubted singing to eldritch skin would make it mend itself, but he brought mers who knew how to heal. At least the ones that could handle the pressure of being so close to the sea floor anyway. Which was hard to find so Remus usually went a year or two (which if what Virgil told him was right like going a week or two to humans who had to deal with mortality) between visits.

To be perfectly honest, he’d probably out of this stupid hole by now if he stopped eating the mers after they got the pain down from unbearable to a dull throb, but he was hungry and he couldn’t really hunt fro himself right now.

”I fucking swear Remus if you get over excited over this one and get too close before he can help I’ll charm you into cleaning the algae from your teeth,” Virgil said, his voice coming from somewhere above him, the natural charm the night brought Virgil ringing through the water enough to actually wake Remus up from his doze.

”Ohhh you brought a healer? Nice! My side aches. Did I tell you who managed to get my side? I think it was-”

”Oh! I haven’t heard that language in so long!”

Remus froze, and for once he decided to bear the pain to lift up half his body from the hole he had hidden himself in so he could get a better look at the cave entrance where Virgil was hovering.

That was an eldritch.

Virgil darted in front of the eldritch protectively and glared down his nose at Remus, lips pulled back farther over fangs he couldn’t usually cover anyway.

”I said you can’t over excited before he could look,” he hissed.

Remus paid him no mind, using one of his tendrils to push Virgil out of the way and three more to drag his aching body forward to look at the eldritch who hadn’t stopped grinning.

Why was he grinning? Remus was easily twenty times the size of a regular male eldritch, the mers he ate having boosted his size over the last hundred or so years.

”Hello!”

His voice was prettier than any siren song Remus had ever heard. He wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible.

Remus glanced towards Virgil, taking a brief note of his irritation, before he looked back towards the eldritch and reached out with his hand.

And then he hissed at the effort of keeping his body where it was and sunk back into the darkness. He kept his eyes locked on the pale blue of his body, forcing his breathing to stay even through the ache of his ribs and the stabbing pain where he’d been harpooned by one of Pryce’s poison spines.

The damned poison on those things were so potent, it’s probably why he was taking so long to heal. Though… with another eldritch to heal him he might be able to get out sooner.

It’s been a long two hundred years. Remus would love to have a bit of freedom back.

The tiny eldritch, and really he was small even for a male, looking more like an octo-mer than an eldritch, allowed himself to float down into the hole.

His glow reminded Remus of the shallow waters closer to where the humans lived. And as he sank closer, Remus remained entirely still (or… as still as he could be, when some of his tendrils tended to move on their own).

”I’m Ayoda, but I’ve taken to being called Patton so other mers can actually pronounce it, Virgil talked a lot about you on our way here!”

”Don’t tell him that!” Virgil hissed from his perch, peeking over the edge of the rock to glower at Remus.

Remus didn’t look away from Patton, tilting his head in curiosity as his fingers ghosted over the wound to keep one of his more active limbs from sliming it with stink. He didn’t notice the strange look Virgil gave him before he slithered out of the ext hole he usually used.

Patton meanwhile batted away both Remus’ tendrils and his hands so he could get a good at look at the wound in his side, not once showing fear even when Remus growled low in his throat on instinct when he poked at the infected flesh.

”You’re the eldritch they drove out of the community twenty years ago, aren’t you?” Patton asked, looking up at Remus with a coy smile that had him tensing and curious at the same time.

”It was two hundred,” he corrected, hissing harshly when Patton’s fingers slipped a claw poked into the sensitive flesh underneath the rotted skin that had yet to fall off.

”Was it? I have a hard time remembering how human years work, how’d you get the timeline down?” he asked, clearly not at all sorry for causing the pain he had.

Remus felt a fluttering in his chest, he ignored it in favor of reaching out to grab Patton’s face with one hand, squishing his cheeks between his fingers and pulling him close to get a better look.

He giggled.

“If you want me to work on helping you heal,” he started in a more common mer language that Remus had learned ages ago to lure meals into his cave before Virgil came along, “you have to let me go.”

But Remus didn’t want to let him go. He was chubby and soft and cute, he liked feeling his skin under his fingers.

”Remus?” Patton asked, making Remus blink and pull away his hand.

He stared down at it in confusion, his brows furrowed and a frown tugging at his lips.

”You know who I am, you know I have no issues eating our own kind to get stronger, why aren’t you scared?” he finally asked, gently poking Patton’s soft belly with a clawed finger.

Patton winced, but his grin didn’t fall as he gently pushed Remus’ finger away and held his hand over the small cut his claw had made.

”I’m not afraid because I was also run out of the community. It may not be smart but I feel solidarity and even if you do decide you want to eat me I’m perfectly capable of fighting you off long enough to get away.”

There was a snort from Virgil in a different area of the cave, and for once Remus didn’t try to figure out where it was so he could pull the siren down for a snack.

He was a little more invested in the tiny eldritch and the history he clearly had.

Patton looked in the vague direction Virgil’s laugh had come from, then shrugged and moved back to paying attention to the wound in Remus’ side.

”Why were you thrown out? And why aren’t you hurt?” Remus asked, shifting his arm out of the way to let Patton look, staring at him and hissing when he used his claws to start tearing off rotted and infected flesh.

He sighed, pausing in his work to look up at Remus before he lifted the flesh he’d just torn off and he took a bite.

That fluttering in his chest was back, and this time it was a thundering and it didn’t fade. The glow from his blush lit up Patton’s visage, and Remus could swear he was blushing as well.

”I started eating our dead. The benefits work differently with caregivers, but I found my healing magic started getting stronger. And my body started changing to be a bit more masculine. I thought there wasn’t an issue with it, the elders thought differently.”

Patton seemed like he was going to keep talking, but he interrupted himself with a yelp and his glowing blush grew so much stronger.

It took Remus a second to realize it was because one of his wandering tendrils had started snaking itself up Patton’s body in an intimate way it shouldn’t with an eldritch he’d just met.

Fuck if he didn’t want to let it keep going though, Patton was interesting and pretty and Remus was finding himself more and more enthralled the more time went on.

”Well!” Patton giggled, grinning at Remus as he untangled the tendril and clutched it to his chest while it squirmed.

”Did your body just try and mate with him?” Virgil asked, making Remus look up to see him holding a very large chunk of fat over to his ledge and giving him a mocking look.

”If you don’t want to be between my teeth instead of the fat you’d best shut your bauble fish jaws,” Remus snapped, his embarrassment increasing when Virgil only laughed.

Patton giggled at that, and oh.

Oh.

…Remus didn’t think he was going to eat this one.

[askkrenko]

Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Onix Line

Look, I’m not saying Onix is inherently a metaphor or was designed to be one, but just as we use euphemisms in the real world, there is absolutely no way that the men of Kanto don’t refer to their “Rock Snake Pocket Monster” and mean something entirely different from an actual Onix. DESIGN:  Onix is a huge serpent made of boulders stuck together, with an inexplicable spike on its head, and you know what? It gets the point across. Its size makes it scary, it blends in with the terrain enough to make it clear why it’s advantageous to look like that, and it’s design is simple but also detailed enough to not look silly. I really like the design of this long, hard beast. Steelix is then less interesting. The metallic sheen and tail spike are cool, and I do actually really like the head redesign, but the crossbars don’t strike me as anything that do anything but make it harder to go through tunnels, they look kind of goofy like stubby arms and legs, and Steelix’s huge head makes its body look short.  This thing is thirty feet long but because its head is so big compared to the rest of it, it looks more childish than Onix does. 

It seriously looks like this thing needs to keep growing, and it’s all because of its ridiculous, massive head. Shrink that thing down and we’ve got a much better serpent. Mega Steelix is an overdesigned mess. It still looks too short, it has a weirdly flat face, it has crystals now for some reason, and what’s with the blue hexagons?   Oh, and the crystals aren’t even sharp so it looks LESS dangerous than Steelix did. Onix has three forms and its later forms are just... less good.

EVOLUTIONS: I dislike trade evolutions, but what I really dislike is trade evolutions that require a specific item. If the item can do it, just let the item do it. You’re asking for extra steps with another player that don’t really enhance the gameplay. It’s just a chore.  At the time of this writing I’ve mostly completed my Crown Tundra and Isle of Armor Pokedex. I’m missing some Sword Exclusives... and I’m missing some Pokemon that only evolve by trading. Because I have to take time out of playing the game to actually get that dealt with. And the ‘requires a metal coat’ thing is just an excuse to explain why Onix couldn’t evolve in gen 1. At this point, just let it be a trade evolution. Onix, Magmar, Rhydon, Slowpoke, all of them.  Steelix is a great choice of Pokemon to Mega. While I don’t like the visual design, Steelix as a Pokemon always needed a bit more of a boost, and it was frankly a bit big. Very few Pokemon evolve past 450 stat total, and Type Null’s the only Pokemon with a stat total over Steelix’s 510 that gets to evolve (And frankly, Type: Null to Silvally is one of the smallest evolutionary jumps in all of Pokemon in terms of raw stats.) So yeah, Steelix was a good choice for a Mega, bring up a weaker full evolved Pokemon.

On the other end of the spectrum, Onix is big enough that adding a Baby Onix at some point would be an entirely reasonable option. This isn’t to say I think the games actually need one, just that there’s clearly room for it in the evolutionary line. 

Art by mark331

TYPING: 

While Onix was a Rock/Ground type, the decision to evolve it away from that was probably due to Rhydon and Golem already existing. Rock/Ground is very mediocre defensively. Though it has an immunity and five resistances, two of its six weaknesses are double weaknesses.  Offensively, the combo’s got super-effective hits on eight types, with nothing resisting both. But you’re not using Onix in a real fight, you’re using Steelix. Steelix is Steel/Ground, which gives it one of the best defensive lineups in the game. With eight resistances, two immunities, and four weaknesses, Steelix is capable of some serious tanking.  Offensively, Steel instead of Rock still gives Supereffective Stab against seven types, and once again there’s no type that resists both Steel and Ground attacks.

Art by Arvalis

STATS:  Steelix has 200 defense.

That’s it. That’s all Steelix’s stats. Okay, its HP and Attack are average. Its Special Defense is sub-par but not painfully so, and its speed is negligible. But it has 200 defense, one of the highest in the game, and when combined with its strong resistances, Steelix is one of the tankiest tanks around. 

Mega Steelix ups the stats that needed it most. While a defense rise from 200 to 230, while amazing and the new highest, is actually kind of negligible at that point, upping Special Defense to 95 and Attack to 125 turns Steelix into the full package, minus the part where it always, always, always goes last.  The weird part there is, Onix has a respectable speed of 70. Guess all that metal slows it down.

ABILITIES:  Steelix has three ability options and, honestly, they all should be good but none of them really live up to their full potential on Steelix. Sturdy is probably the least necessary of the three, but Steelix is still vulnerable to one big hit from a strong hit from a special sweeper, and being able to give a flat ‘no’ to those is useful.  Sheer Force is a particularly powerful ability that increases the damage of attacks by 30% by removing their beneficial secondary effects.  Steelix has a decent variety of moves that can take advantage of this, most notably Iron Head and Rock Slide, but also the elemental fangs for type coverage.

Rock Head is probably Steelix’s strongest ability. Rock Head removes recoil damage from attacks, and while Steelix only has two attacks that can take advantage of this,  one of them is Head Smash, a 150 Power Rock Move that normally deals 50% of the damage dealt as recoil damage.  Rock Head doesn’t have the versatility of Sheer Force, but a Super-Effective Sheer Force Thunder/Ice/Fire Fang is still only doing slightly more damage than a neutral Head Smash, and Steelix’s best attacks, Earthquake and Body Press, can’t benefit from either. Mega Steelix, sadly, does not get Rock Head. Mega Steelix gets Sand Force, which increases the damage of its STAB and Rock moves during a sandstorm. Obviously, this takes effort to set up, and Steelix doesn’t get the Rock-type defensive benefits, but hey, if you’re going to Sandstorm, Mega Steelix is a great idea.

Art by Isabelle Rathner

MOVES:  It’s weird to say, but Steelix’s strongest attack isn’t STAB. While Mega Steelix just Earthquakes basically everything forever,   Steelix’s 200 defense to 85 attack ratio means Body Press outdamages even Earthquake, though it does have the issue that more things resist Fighting than are weak to it. 

From there, you’ll want some coverage. Earthquake, Head Smash (with Rock Head), various Sheer Force attacks, etc, are all options.  Steelix is also slow enough that Gyro Ball is often very strong for it, especially if you get a nature with -Speed instead of the more obvious -Special Attack.  Mega Steelix is heavy enough to reliably Heavy Slam, but I wouldn’t try it with regular Steelix. 

Generally, for coverage you want to combine Ground with Steel or Fighting with Rock.  “Ground and steel” might seem obvious because Steelix is Ground and Steel, but Head Smash and Body Press are both as strong as Earthquake, and how well your Steel moves work really depends on what you’re fighting. And you can use three if you really want to. 

Then you get the setup moves. Steelix has two great setup options. Iron Defense raises its already insane defense to a ludicrous level and functions as Swords Dance for Body Press. On the other hand, Curse increases  the Power of Gyro Ball while also raising Attack and Defense one stage. It’s not as much raw power as the Iron Defense+ Body Press strategy, but, as said, a lot of things resist Fighting. In fact, Fighting and Steel make a good attack duo for coverage purposes, and Curse still increases damage from Body Press, just by one stage instead of two. What makes Steelix interesting here is that with a few turns of setup it can start sweeping, and its defenses mean there’s only a few attacks that can do good damage against it.

For a more defensive option, try having another Pokemon lay down Spikes, then have Steelix use Stealth Rock and bat Pokémon about with Dragon Tail. Whipping up a Sandstorm also works great in this scenario.  Combine with Leftovers for maximum longevity, and your opponent will probably take a lot of random damage throughout their team before something’s able to put a serious dent in Steelix.

Art by Tious

OVERALL:  Steelix is a lot of cool stuff that interacts in weird but not quite great ways. Sheer Force is a strong ability, but it can’t really take advantage in the way Nidoran can. Rock Head is great, but it doesn’t get STAB with either of the moves it applies to, unlike Aggron who gets Rock Head with STAB Head Smash. And then there’s Sand Force, which is strong, but as Steelix isn’t actually a Rock type, it doesn’t get the special defense boost.

You know, I kept thinking it, but this whole time it feels like Steelix would be better if everything else were identical but it was Rock/Steel instead of Ground/Steel... Though I guess Steelix’s defenses are overall more favorable, so maybe not.

Steelix is a great tank, and it has a few options of what to do while tanking, especially now that Body Press exists. Mega Steelix is even stronger, with a real attack stat. 

I just find myself moderately disappointed in all three ability options, despite them all being great ones. 

Also I still think Onix looked cooler.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Worth It (The Prelude)

Worth It- Pt 1

Summary: The reader meets Marcel for the first time. This a prelude for the Worth It series.

Characters: Marcel x black!reader

A/N: I couldn’t get out of my head how the reader and Marcel first met, so I just had to write it. I think I love this series the most. I love writing for Marcel and I’ happy y’all are enjoying it too. I already got ideas for Part 3 so hopefully it’ll come out this week.

“Baby girl, you bet not be doing any magic in that shop of yours. Just sell your herbs and elixirs and go on about your day.” Your dad warned you for the fifth time today.

When you returned home yesterday, you learned that Marcel had forbidden the witches from doing any magic or there would be deadly consequences. Poor Ophelia didn’t believe him, and she paid for it with her life. Ever since then, the witches have been scared.

Hence, your parents nagging you about not using your powers. Naturally, you had a rebellious spirit and they knew that you would have no problem testing Marcel.

“Daddy, I promise.” You lied through your teeth. It may not be today, tomorrow, or anytime soon, but you knew eventually you’ll give into using your powers.

Before grabbing your keys, you kissed your mom and dad goodbye. “Be careful and no magic!” You heard right before the doors closed on them.

—

“Oh wee, chile, I swear you’re a miracle worker,” Mrs. Jackson smiled as she wriggled her fingers around.

Laughing at the older woman, you handed her the mix of thunder god vine and eucalyptus. “No ma’am, I’m not. I just know what to mix to help that arthritis of yours.”

She hugged you and rocked you back and forth. “Either way, I don’t feel any pain and can move my fingers.” Mrs. Jackson checked her watch and quickly let go of you. “Oh, look at the time. I gotta go. Paula’s bringing my grandbaby over. Take care of yourself Y/N.”

“I will and remember apply the ointment twice a day!” You called out to her before she was out the door.

After, Mrs. Jackson you had a steady flow of customers until towards the end of the day. It was so slow you decided to close the shop early and head to Rousseau’s to have a drink with your sister. However, your new set of customers thwarted your plans.

“Took you long enough to show up,” you told Marcel and his gang.

“You were getting busy. Didn’t want the tourists to see all the commotion.”

Clasping your hands together and bashing your eyelashes, you replied with faux gratefulness, “Oh my god, how sweet.”

He smiled at your sarcasm, revealing a blinding smile. It was the type of smile that made girls swoon and weak in the knees. Too bad he was dick.

“You’re funny, but that’s not going to save you. I’m sure that the other witches told you that there is absolutely no magic to be done.”

Walking to where he was, you slapped his hand away from touching your herbs. His friends were about to attack you, but he held up his hand to stop them. “I know and I really don’t care about your stupid ass rules. If someone is in need, I’m helping them.”

Marcel looked at you curiously. Most of the witches he knows are only out for themselves and their coven. “So, who was worth your life?”

“Mrs. Jackson. She’s a seamstress and her granddaughter is deaf, so she uses ASL to communicate with her. But unfortunately, for Mrs. Jackson she’s has really bad arthritis, so I give her an ointment, but the pain relief spell helps a lot too; she doesn’t have to come here as often if I perform the spell. So, if you’re gonna kill me because I helped a sweet old lady keep her livelihood and talk to her only grandchild so be it. You’re the one that’ll have to live with that on your conscious, not me.” You knelt down before him to make the job easier for him.  The other witches may live a life with fear, but you weren’t.

Looking at his friends, he wordlessly told them to leave your shop and they reluctantly obeyed. Diego and Thierry didn’t trust witches at all, and they didn’t want to leave Marcel alone with you, but they had no choice. Once his friends left, Marcel knelt down in front of you and lifted your chin, so your eyes could meet his brown ones. “You’re telling me that you cast a spell on a woman that makes her come to your shop less often. Doesn’t that make you lose money?”

“Its not about the money. Its about helping the people of New Orleans, specifically the brown ones. I can’t cure cancer, but I can lessen the pain and that’s more than our government is doing. Its more than you’re doing. You call yourself King of the Quarter, but who are you helping specifically? The vampires? Because last time I checked there’s more humans than vamps.” Self-preservation obviously wasn’t an attribute you had to be speaking to Marcel like this. Easily he could wrap his hands or sink his fangs into your neck, sucking the life out of you.

“Have dinner with me.” Marcel offered you. It’d been so long, since he’s been genuinely intrigued by a woman. Yeah, he’s slept with other women, but this was the first time in a long time he wanted to get to know a woman. If he wanted to be honest with himself, he knew he wanted to know more about you as soon as he laid his eyes on you. Even though, you greeted him with an attitude he knew there was a kind spirit in you.

Marcel was staring you down and it was beginning to be too much. His gaze was stirring things up that shouldn’t be stirred up at all. He was a vampire, you’re a witch, there should be no attraction at all, but damn it he had you interested.

To a degree you knew Marcel was good. He saved Davina Claire from being sacrificed during that Harvest Festival, which your momma called a bunch of nonsense and that’s why she don’t fool with those white witches. “They always wanna sacrifice somebody. Unless it’s the good Lord telling me to, which he ain’t done since Abraham, I ain’t killing nobody,” she would always say.

You took a good look at Marcel to assess if he had any ill-intentions towards you. He seemed that he didn’t, but you had to make sure. “Like eat dinner with you or be dinner for you?”

He laughed at you, big time. Your inflection, the look on your face, and body movements were hilarious. Marcel knew for sure he had to get to know you.

“Nigga, I’m serious! I know I look like a snack and all, but that’s not the way I prefer to be eaten.”

Marcel tongue darted out across his lips, which made you zero in on them. They were so damn kissable, that you had to stop yourself from leaning in once Marcel began talking again. “No, we’ll eat a dinner and I much rather have you for dessert anyway.” He said suggestively, licking his lips again.

Lips were moving, but no words were coming out. You must’ve looked like an idiot, but Marcel didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable being struck speechless for the first time during this encounter.

Lifting you to your feet, Marcel got within a tenth of a inch of your ear and whispered, “I‘ll pick you up at 8,” and just like that he left leaving you stunned.

Quickly, you pulled out your phone to text your sister.

YOU: Change of plans. Meet me at my house. I have a date!

—

Bianca stood in front you, working here magic on your face. She was the best makeup artist in the state, and you got all her services for free and you earned it too; you were always her test subject.

“And he ain’t even ask you? Just told you what time he’ll pick you up without asking where you live.” She asked, waving the powder brush. In response, you shook your head yes and she kept going. “Whew, that’s some big dick energy!”

“I know, right?! If he hadn’t zoomed off, I probably would’ve given him the panties right then and there.” It was true. Marcel had a hold on you and you were sure you’d lose all common sense around him.

“I heard sex with a vamp is top tier. I’ve been trying to get at Diego, but he ain’t having it.” Bianca’s had a crush on Diego as long as he’s been in New Orleans and at first he was interested until he found out she was a witch.

“He’s just scared that’s all. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Bianca was applying the finishing touches when she went on a rant. “That’s what I told that nappy-headed ass nigga! I told him stop being scary because the only thing that’s gonna put a spell on him is this pussy!” She stuck her tongue out like her idol, Cardi B and you joined in with her laughter.

“Oh, look at my big sis, looking all fine.” Turning you around to face the mirror, Bianca revealed her handiwork. She kept your face to a light beat, going for the natural look, highlighting your best features.

Shooting out of your seat, you hugged her thanking her profusely. “Girl, ain’t no problem. You know it ain’t hard to make you look beautiful. Now turn Marcel back to the dark side.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her, you had no idea what she was talking about. She leaned into you and whispered like you weren’t in the privacy of your home. “He’s known for dating white girls. Rumor has it he dated Rebekah Mikaelson back in the day.”

The knock on the door stopped you from asking anymore questions. Damn a nigga for being on time.

On the other side of the door, stood a delicious looking Marcel Gerard with a bouquet of Swamp Azaleas. “I heard these are your favorites,” he handed you the flowers, but Bianca took them instead.

“They are. Now, don’t have her back until the sun is up. Good night!” She pushed you out the door so hard that you stumbled into Marcel’s embrace and god did he smell good and felt even better.

Feeling like you were overstaying your welcome in his arms, you tried to pull away, but he pulled you back. “No, I like how you feel in my arms.” For a while, Marcel just held you until you reminded him you would like to go on the date and for the first time you noticed a nervous smile from him. “Sorry, I just get caught up in you,” he stated, before he escorted you down to his car.

--

Thank god, Marcel didn’t take you to an overpriced date. He could tell that you enjoyed the simpler things in life and took you to a local restaurant. It required you to dress nicely, but not like if you were dining at a Michelin star restaurant.

The conversation never got dull and he never got insulted by the jokes you cracked about him unlike some of your previous dates. What you truly bonded over was your love for New Orleans. There was no place like NOLA and even if you visited other cities, states, and countries, New Orleans would always be your number one love. It was the same way for Marcel.

The only thing you disagreed on was how to run the city, but it wasn’t a disrespectful debate. He even challenged your thoughts by bringing up that you weren’t heavily involved with the coven, so why fight for them so hard. The man was good, but you couldn’t let him know that.

Dinner was coming to an end and you couldn’t help but think about what Bianca said about Marcel dating white women. You knew she didn’t mean it as malicious, but it was causing doubts in your head. If it was true, then you were shit out of luck because you were far from his usual dates.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Nothing. What makes you say that?”

“Your eyes.” He pointed to your irises, holding out his forkful of dessert for you to taste. The mix of warm, gooey brownies with ice cream, whipped cream, walnuts, and chocolate syrup had you moaning and rocking back and forth in happiness. “That right there is what I’m talking about. Your eyes are so expressive you can’t hide what you’re feeling. That’s why I knew you would go on a date with me, you felt the same attraction I did. So, I’ll ask one more time, what’s going on in that head of yours.” This time you could tell by his tone that a nothing wouldn’t suffice.

“Do you typically date black girls?” The words were so jumbled together that Marcel almost didn’t catch the question.

A slow smile crept on his face once it did register and he gripped your hand and rubbed small circles into it. “Thinking back on it, my more recent partners have been white, but don’t let it get twisted, I will always love black women.”

Satisfied with his answer, you let the topic go. Easily, y’all finished dessert and then went out to walk down Bourbon street. Marcel let you pulled him into dancing when you heard the familiar sounds of Zydeco. He kept up even when they switched up to bounce music and you began twerking on him.

Unfortunately, the night had to come to the end. Marcel walked you back to your front door and you both just stood there not wanting to end the date. “Want to come inside?”

“I can’t,” he replied. Your mood immediately saddens at the rejection and you turned the doorknob to go inside, but Marcel closed it. “You and these damn eyes,” he murmured. “Its not that I don’t want to come inside. Its that you have work in the morning and we both know if I come inside, you won’t get any sleep.”

“Oh,” you deeply sighed at his explanation. Now you had to try to get him inside somehow.

“Its not happening, so get those dirty thoughts out of your mind.” He smirked at you, loving how emotive you were. “But if you let me, I can kiss you.”

Eagerly, you shook your head yes and he chuckled at you. Marcel grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you closer. His eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes repeatedly, just making the tension that much more intense. He finally descended his lips onto yours, releasing you from that torture and bringing you into bliss. His lips were softer than you imagined, his beard tickled your face, but you loved it.

Remembering that you needed to breath, Marcel reluctantly pulled away with a small bite to your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered opened and there was no denying the lust in them. Marcel leaned his forehead against yours and whispered into your ear, “You’re going to ruin me.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking to himself or you, but you responded either way. “I’ll be worth it,” and you went inside leaving both you and Marcel frustrated.

Tags: @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @nightgirl250 @cocooned-butterfly @thickemadame @artsninspo @titty-teetee

[badbadbucky]

The Haunted Haunted House

The little girl, Magda, looked at the little boy, Billy, skeptically. “What do you mean you’ve never been to a haunted house?”

The two children sat together on Magda’s bed. Billy wore a cowboy costume. Magda wore a cat costume. They were waiting for Magda’s mom.

“My mama said I wasn’t allowed to go. They had one a couple towns over, in Gerda, and my friend Georgie, his daddy took him and he said it was real scary,” Billy said. 

“But this is a haunted house,” Magda said.

Billy looked at her like she was stupid. “No it ain’t, it’s just got ghosts in it.”  Billy knew a little something about Halloween. Halloween had always been his favorite holiday. Before… he’d always stayed up until the small hours of the morning, and not just because he was buzzing off sugar, but because he didn’t want it to be over. 

For the first few months her family had lived in the big old mansion Magda had been terrified, but Billy had shown her that all the ghosts were actually nice, even if they did look scary sometimes (or all the time in Starla’s case). 

“Haunted houses got like rattlin’ coffins, and guys in costumes jump out at ya, and there’s spiders and blood and skeletons everywhere. That’s a real haunted house,” Billy said. 

Magda didn’t argue with Billy, sometimes she thought that even though she was younger than Billy--he was eight and she was six--sometimes she just understood things better. He always seemed a lot younger than he actually was. She didn’t know if it was a product of being dead, or if kids were just more innocent in the 50’s. 

“That was the year though,” Billy said. He played with the fringe on his satin shirt with the pearl snaps. 

“The year what?” Magda asked. 

“My daddy said he was gonna take me. Got tired of me askin’ probably. It was Halloween, and I was waiting for him to get home then we was gonna drive to Gerda. I was practicing twirling my toy gun. I dropped it. And it broke. And a cowboy couldn’t have an empty holster right?” He dropped his head so that the low brim of his cowboy hat--that he never took off--blocked his eyes. 

Magda reached out and laid her hand over his. It phased right through, but he said that he could still sort of feel it. 

“My daddy’s gun was a lot heavier than my toy one. I didn’t expect it to be so heavy,” Billy trailed off. He glanced up at her and wiped away a few tears. “I really woulda liked to go the haunted house.” Then he disappeared. 

Magda looked around. “Billy? Billy?”

Billy didn’t answer and he didn’t reappear.   

“Ms. Elizabeth?” Magda called.

A stately woman in a maroon gown appeared, a slash across her throat continuously dripped blood down her front. She had dark hair and dark sad eyes. “What is it Magda?”

“Billy’s upset.”

“It is a rather hard day for him,” Ms. Elizabeth said. 

The little girl told the ghost her plan. And then the ghost set about her preparations, while the girl set about her own. 

When the girl got home from trick or treating she ran straight up to her room. 

“Are you there?” She whispered. 

Ms. Elizabeth appeared. “All is ready, Ms. Magda.” She smiled down at the little girl. She held out her velvet gloved hand and very nearly touched Magda’s cheek. 

Magda could feel a cool soft whisper on her cheek. 

Then Ms. Elizabeth removed her hand. “Find Billy, I have to get into place.” 

Magda nodded. She walked out to the hallway and to the staircase that led to the attic. When she reached the top of the stairs, she called out “Billy?”

She heard a sniffle coming from behind an old painting of Ms. Elizabeth in a gilded frame. Magda walked toward the sound. The floor creaked underneath her. Magda stuck her head around the painting and found Billy sitting on the floor, curled up, with his arms around his knees. His hat sat on the floor beside him. “Billy is that you?” 

When Billy heard her voice he snatched his hat off the floor and jammed it on his head, though too late to prevent Magda from seeing the small neat hole in the middle of his forehead. Though, because Billy was her friend, she pretended that she hadn’t seen it. 

Instead, she said, “I have a surprise for you.” 

“What is it?” Billy asked. He wiped at his eyes rapidly, cowboys didn’t cry.

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore dummy. Come on.” Magda said. She swiped at him, and through him several times, since she couldn’t actually pull him to his feet.

Billy climbed to his feet. He never could resist a surprise. 

They climbed down the stairs from the attic and went to the main entranceway in the house. Magda’s gaze slid around, it seemed that everyone and everything was ready. She positioned herself and Billy in the very center of the room. 

Ms. Elizabeth emerged from the shadows. In addition to her customary velvet gown, she wore a cheap black cape, she’d painted fake blood around her mouth, and she wore plastic fangs. The ghosts who were older were better at interacting with physical objects.

“Velcome travelers,” Ms. Elizabeth said, in her best approximation of Magda’s best approximation of a Dracula voice, “Velcome to my home.”

“What’s going on?” Billy asked.

Magda shushed him and pointed at Ms. Elizabeth.

Ms. Elizabeth continued, “I exp-, I exp-” she struggled to speak around the fangs,  “Heaven’s sake.” She removed the fangs. “I expect that you’ll want a tour. So I shall show you around. But be warned, my friends are in town. And some people find them quite...frightening.”

The lights flickered and there was a great crash of thunder. 

Billy jumped.

Magda shot her mom, who was hiding under the stairs operating a sound machine and a dimmer switch, a thumbs up, she’d hit her cue perfectly. 

Ms. Elizabeth walked out of the entranceway and Billy and Magda followed. She led the two children toward the massive kitchen. And there stood Old Man Gibbons at the stove, stirring a bubbling cauldron of green muck. His face was painted green and he wore a ratty wig with long black hair and a pointy black hat. He cackled as he stirred.The witch costume did a marvelous job of hiding that Old Man Gibbons’ legs were nothing more than bloody stumps. He’d been the groundskeeper on the estate and had a terrible accident with a tractor.  A stuffed black cat sat on the counter behind him.

“Ah, here we have my old friend Hilda. And what diabolical potion are you making Hilda?” Ms. Elizabeth said, maintaining the Dracula accent. 

“Hehehehehe, this potion turns little boys into little mice! Ahahahaha!” Old Man Gibbons said. He lifted a spoonful of the “potion” toward Billy’s lips. “Want a taste?” 

Billy leapt backward, “no!” he squeaked. 

“Perhaps later, Hilda,” Ms. Elizabeth said. “We have many more rooms to visit.”

“Hilda” cackled. “Let me know if you get thirsty.  I could use a nice fat mouse to feed my cat, HEHEHEHEHEHEHE!”

Billy and Magda hustled out of the kitchen and followed Ms. Elizabeth to the dining room 

Tomas stood behind the long banquet style table, dressed in a white labcoat. Lucindra lay on top of the table, under a sheet. 

“Victor,” Ms. Elizabeth drawled, “you said you would show me your latest creation.”

Tomas nodded eagerly. “Ooooh yes, she’s nearly ready.” He rubbed his hands together in manic glee. “Igor! It. Is. TIME!”

“Yes, master,” a voice rasped from right behind Magda and Billy. 

Billy let out a little shriek and turned around. 

Stuart, the devastatingly handsome senator’s son with the rope burn around his neck, had sneaked up behind them. He lurched and staggered toward Tomas and handed him what looked suspiciously like salad tongs. Then he dragged his leg behind him until he reached the light switch. 

Tomas placed the salad tongs on either side of Lucindra’s head. “Give me power Igor!”

“Yes, Master,” Stuart said as he flickered the lights. 

Lucindra thrashed under the sheet.

It had taken some convincing, and a private threat of grounding from their mother, but eventually even Magda’s brother Todd had agreed to help. He was under the table, making electricity noises with his mouth and rocking the table occasionally. 

 Billy took a step behind Magda, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene.

“MORE!” Tomas screamed. 

“Yes, Master,” Stuart grunted. He flickered the lights more.

Lucindra flailed, occasionally the sheet would flip off her face and Tomas would quickly pull the sheet back over to conceal her face. It was not yet time for the big reveal. 

“MORE POWER IGOR!” Tomas yelled, his eyes rolling madly in his skull.

“But Master--” Stuart began. 

“NOW!!!!”

Stuart turned off the lights, plunging everything into darkness. Then he turned on a black light. The sheet over Lucindra glowed an otherworldly white. As did Tomas’s labcoat as he danced around the table. 

Todd deployed the fog machine. Tendrils of fog curled out from under the table. Billy was too entranced to hear Todd’s muffled coughing and choking. 

Slowly, Lucindra raised her shaking arms. 

“It’s alive,” Tomas howled. “It’s alive, it’s alive.” 

Tomas whipped the sheet off of Lucindra revealing her face. The blacklight made the paint on her face glow demonically. She hissed at Magda and Billy. Billy gave out a little yip and even Magda jumped a bit. 

Magda and Billy ran back out into the hallway, giggling. Stuart and Ms. Elizabeth shared a soft smile. 

Todd climbed out from under the table, he rolled his eyes at the two ghosts making googoo eyes at each other. According to Chrissy, these two had apparently been doing this dance since at least the 80’s. He stomped out of the dining room and yelled up the stairs “Okay mom, I helped. Can I go now?” He had a date with Becky Sherman, and she’d told him that he was really going to love her costume. 

Ms. Elizabeth led the kids up the stairs to the long hallway where all the guest bedrooms were. The hallway was strung with fake cobwebs everywhere. Magda got caught in them while Billy easily phased right through them. They reached the end of the hallway and Ms. Elizabeth held the door open for the two children. 

In the middle of the room there was a sarcophagus, which was really a trunk from the attic that Magda had decorated with hieroglyphics. The lid rattled ominously. 

Magda’s father, dressed as Indiana Jones, ran up behind them. “You better get outta here kids. The mummy inside will curse anyone who looks at him, and he’s waking up!” 

But before the kids could turn back, the door slammed in their faces. Magda tried the door. Ms. Elizabeth held it closed. 

“We’re trapped!” Magda yelled to Billy.

“What do we do?” Billy asked.

The lid of the sarcophagus flopped open. Bandaged arms gripped the sides. 

Billy and Magda huddled together. Though Magda wasn’t scared. Of course not. But maybe she’d huddle a bit closer to Billy, just to make him feel better. 

The mummy, really Chrissy wrapped head to toe in bandages, rose from the trunk. He moaned and groaned dramatically.  

“Don’t look!” Magda’s dad yelled. He stood in front of the kids. “Squeeze your eyes shut.”

Magda and Billy both squeezed their eyes shut. Then, Magda’s father gave a great yell and flopped to the ground. Then the only sound was the mummy shuffling toward the kids.

Billy and Magda couldn’t stand to keep their eyes closed anymore. They looked down and saw Magda’s father lying frozen on the ground, his face wrenched into an exaggerated rictus of pain. Billy and Magda both gave little shrieks. 

When they looked up, the mummy was no longer shuffling toward them, they twisted around to see where the mummy had gone, when suddenly he appeared right behind them and grabbed Billy’s shoulders. Billy screamed and jerked away from the mummy, then laughed shrilly. 

Ms. Elizabeth opened the door and took the kids back down stairs to the conservatory. Magda’s mother had transferred the fog machine to the conservatory and it had been filling with smoke while the kids were upstairs. Wisps of smoke hovered around the bases of the trees, turning the bright cheery room into a haunted forest. 

Billy and Magda hesitantly entered the room. Ms. Elizabeth disappeared into the fog and so the two children were left alone. They walked between the trees.

Magda jumped when she heard a bird chirp, and Billy gave out a faint scream when he’d mistaken a potted tree for a figure coming for them. 

A figure whooshed past them. The kids turned to see what it was, but it was too fast. Then something went by again, and Billy was able to catch the flapping tail of a sheet. 

“There!” He pointed to the center of the conservatory. “It went that way!”

The kids chased after the figure, laughing. They almost caught up with the figure, but then lost it again. They found a small area that was largely cleared of the fog. 

The figure was hiding--very poorly--behind a tree.

“We see you!” Magda called.

“Yeah, we see you,” Billy said. 

The figure, dressed in a sheet with eye holes cut into it that had been nearly bleached white over the years, but still had the faintest hint of a floral pattern, stepped out from behind the tree.  The very spooky ghost, Starla, raised her arms over her head and the sheet dropped back a bit, revealing her blackened flesh. She wiggled her burnt red fingers. “Oooooooooooo.”

Billy giggled. “You’re not scary.”

The sheet twitched a bit, as Starla smiled to herself.  She liked the idea of not being scary, if only for a time. 

Ms. Elizabeth returned, and she’d put the fake fangs back in. “I hope you enjoyed our little tour. Because you can never leave.” She lunged forward with her fangs bared. 

Both of the children screamed and ran out of the conservatory.

 Ms. Elizabeth reached out and squeezed Starla’s hand. “Well done, darling.”

Magda pulled Billy up to her bedroom. They jumped into her bed and threw the covers over their heads. Magda stuck her arm out of their blanket fortress only long enough to snag her flashlight off the floor. She turned it on, casting both their faces into sharp relief. 

“I think we’re safe,” Magda said.

Billy nodded. 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“Did you like it?” Magda asked shyly. 

Billy answered by trying to throw his arms around her. He phased through, but she got the idea all the same. 

They lay down for a bit, but both of them were still wide awake. Their eyes slid towards each other.

“I can’t go to sleep,” Billy said. 

“Me neither, Magda said. 

They sat, talking and laughing until 11 o’clock, when Magda’s mother stumbled in and told them to go to bed. Then they huddled under the covers, whispering and giggling, until 2 in the morning, when Ms. Elizabeth appeared and told them in no uncertain terms that they must go to sleep “this very instant.”

It was only then, that Magda’s eyes finally began to flutter, and Billy found it harder to hold his form. Eventually Magda fell asleep and Billy went where all ghosts go when they are too tired to be visible anymore. For them,  Halloween was over.

[fly-pow-bye]

ThunderCats Roar - “Study Time”

Co-Executive Producer: Victor Courtright

Supervising Producer: Nate Cash

Producer: Marly Halpern-Graser

Story by: Joan Ford

Teleplay by: Bryan Condon

Directed by: George Kaprielian

Yes, they drew a toot there. They just couldn't resist.

The episode starts with a flashback to Tygra in his younger years, doing a training montage with the help of Jaga, who throws various books at him for him to catch and study. Not only does he teach him all of his famous bola whip moves as well, Jaga teaches him to do a cool pose while doing it. There's still some jokes here and there, but the main point still stands: Tygra was serious about his training, and in the end, a teenage Jaga promises his master that he will never let him down.

We cut to years later on Third Earth, where Tygra plans to do the same type of training with the Lord of the ThunderCats. Will Tygra attempt to teach Lion-O using the same techniques, and be hindered by Lion-O's stupidity? Does Teenage Tygra have braces?

He tries to repeat the same book throwing, even starting with the same book on "Thunder Lore" that started the first montage, only for Lion-O to react to anything thrown at him: slash it up with his sword. Tygra tells him he was supposed to read it, only for Lion-O to run off screaming.

Needless to say, Lion-O is not exactly enthralled by Tygra's lessons and villain flashcards, and says he wants to take a break to play Panthro's new VR video game he just created, which he exclaims, in a high tone very common in this show, "awe-soooome!" And why wouldn't it be? The game is going to feature the toughest heroes in the universe!

The joke is that all of the characters look like Panthro. Never really saw Panthro as the one that's stuck up about himself to the point where he's the sole "toughest heroes of the universe", wrong use of plural intentional, I saw Cheetara as that. I get that Cheetara wouldn't be the one to program a video game, but I'm sure there's some way to make that work.

Speaking of video games, Tygra's next teaching tries to teach him a basic "warm breath attack" move with the Sword of Omens, which is apparently input just like a special move in Mortal Kombat. No, really, he just has to point the sword up, down, right, and left. Unfortunately, Lion-O just can't help but dance a different dance with a different set of directions. No, it's not "up up down down left right left right", because that joke would be too obvious.

Inadvertently, the code Lion-O does use happens to be the code to unlock a new character: the Netherwitch! This is an interesting turn of events when it comes to classic villains returning from the original, because the Netherwitch technically is not one of them. Sure, there was a Netherwitch in the episode "The Astral Plane", but she was merely just Mumm-Ra Disguise #235723. Here, she's an actual villain with an actual motivation to just steal things and put them in her empty home plane.

No, not an airplane, but the Astral Plane, just like that episode, and one of those things she throws in one of her portals are our funny man and straight man duo, apparently treating them like kitschy objects for some reason. Is it really self-deprecation if it's characters from a show these writers didn't create?

As the portal closes, seemingly dooming them to wander in a realm filled with scary monsters and increasing amounts of clutter from the Netherwitch's kleptomania, Lion-O attempts to do some more smooth moves. Lion-O at least knows that it was his fault they got in this mess, and he's trying to find a way to get him out. Tygra stops him before he can do that, and just tells him to try to do the ThunderCats Roar instead. One might think this would be the one time it wouldn't work, as they're in a completely different plane from the Cat's Lair, and even Tygra wonders if it could work.

The sword does its best, though, and it manages to shine brighter than it ever has, even knocking Lion-O to a nearby rock. It even does the same "tear through the walls" action it did in Boggy Ben, tearing a hole in space and projecting that logo right in the room where the other ThunderCats are. There's only one force more powerful than that.

Unfortunately, it's the power of VR. For the first time in Roar, the other ThunderCats are just too distracted to be affected by the call, as they're trying to defeat some hideous monsters. At least, that's what Panthro calls them, as they mysteriously look a lot like the ThunderCats that aren't the almighty Panthro. They never really continue with this; it's really just an excuse for the Roar to be impressive and not work at the same time.

Lion-O tries to ask someone else he thinks his friendly for help, but the huge fanged monster he's talking to is apparently not a nice monster. I've seen this joke done far worse; at least he doesn't call him a "nice friendly evil monster" and just get beaten up about five times. Someone else does save them before even the first beating, though.

Jaga's spirit finally shows up in this series after his small little appearance in Exodus, distracting the monster with his booty scooty. Not sure if I ever wanted to see Jaga twerk, but that's Roar for you. Even the monster kind of agrees with that, as it slowly moves away from the scene, sweating uncomfortably.

Once he reveals his face, Tygra can't believe it's the master he promised to never let down, and he's glad to see that there's another person who can teach Lion-O the ways of the Sword of Omens. After all, Jaga is essentially a tutorial ghost in the original, and he's going to do the same thing here. Jaga agrees after having to be reminded what his name was supposed to be, as he misheard it as "Jillian." It took me a couple times to figure out what the joke was supposed to be, and I still don't know. In any case, it does set up another training montage in the same style as the first one.

There are a few differences, of course. While Tygra's was mostly variations of serious training with a few jokes here and there, Lion-O's training consists mainly of wacky antics while Tygra frowns. He has Lion-O bounce on a bouncy floating rock, tickle a giant ferocious beast, rest on a dragon's tongue, and break a pinata.

Tygra laments that this is not the Jaga he once knew, and also wonders where they could have gotten a pinata. On the former, it's not too hard to predict Jaga's sudden nuttiness. As for the latter, it appears that's just one of those "oh, look at how wacky we are by acknowledging plot holes" jokes, but that's actually because the Netherwitch is still stealing things and putting them in portals to this Astral Plane, filling it up with clutter. I guess they really needed to find some way to add some tension, I guess.

This tension does lead to Jaga explaining that this is indeed the time for rules.

(having a disco dance at a nearby cave, Tygra still frowning at his master's apparent fall from his past self)

Lion-O: You're right, Jaga, this rules!

Okay, that was forced, I'm not going to lie.

Tygra finally has enough with his master's seemingly out of character silliness and tells him that this nothing like his lessons, only for Jaga to shush him in a silly way. He then gets serious, and, in a twist I saw this coming a mile away but I'm not exactly against it, he reveals that the differences are intentional, as not every student is alike. It's not a bad lesson.

Tygra doesn't exactly agree, as he feels that studying should be what's important, and that should work for everyone. Jaga almost looks like he's going to agree, but he ends up doing a pretty good joke that made me chuckle. I'm not going to spoil it here, but it's one that would have had some decent potential as a response image if this show was more popular. Finally getting the point so they can get to the point where they returned, Tygra tells Lion-O to do his dance moves, and sure enough, he makes a portal.

To extend the episode a little, and as an excuse for ThunderCats Roar's trademark "better animated than usual" action sequences, the portal is spawned way further than they wanted it to. After patting Lion-O on the cheeks, and because this is Roar I should add that I'm referring to the ones on his face, he asks Jaga if he can come with him, only to tell him that this is his home now, and that they should go to that portal before it collapses. Yeah, it's complicated.

And yes, this does lead to that aforementioned action sequence, as Lion-O and Tygra do have to leap across floating rocks with the help of their Claw Shield and bola whip, respectively. They eventually hitch a ride on a giant monster space whale, and eventually make it to the Netherwitch, who was busy fitting even more stuff she took in her portals.

To make a long story short, they end up winning with the power of Lion-O's dance-powered portals. We may not get a Konami Code reference, but we do get a reference to the endless falling everyone did in Portal.

Lion-O decides to let her go, because as the Lord of the ThunderCats, he should show her the wonders of Third Earth like a tour guide! At first, this just looks like yet another way for Lion-O to look like an idiot, but this does end in a pretty nice way. Not only was it unexpected, it actually gives more of a point to one of the running jokes.

The episode ends with this rather somber title card that says "R.I.P. Jillian", which is a reference to a line earlier in the episode where Jaga thought he was named Jillian. It's a very short story that isn't elaborated on. I do not think it's an actual dedication because it then jumpcuts to a normal "END!" title card a few seconds later with a fart sound. Not sure why they did that.

How does it stack up?

It's not a bad episode, not a bad lesson, and all in all, a pretty decent showing for Jaga's first real episode. There will be better showings, though.

Next, no points for guessing the villain of the next episode.

← Dr. Dometone 🐈 Mumm-Ra The Ever Living →

[illiyith]

A little self-indulging one-shot. It’s a Zenitsu x Reader in the third person. My first time posting any writing, so yeah... here goes nothing. Started writing this yesterday at 3 am. Day at work was hard due to sleepiness but eh.. worth it. 

Hope i didn’t mess up too much ~  To whoever read this, thank you, hope you enjoy.

As she watched from the porch the rain pouring outside, (Name) thought she and the boys were lucky not to have been given any mission today. This way, she could sit comfortably inside, with a warm cup of tea, and most importantly, with Zenitsu at her side. The blond looked uneasy as the storm kept raging outside and in a whiff of affection, (Name) dragged herself closer to him, snuggling into the boy's arms until her ear was laying against his chest. The affectionate gesture was just as much a proof of love and trust as it was a way to comfort the boy. He tensed for a second as he felt her so close to him and she vaguely wondered if he was still nervous because of how new their relationship was or if he simply wouldn't ever get used to it. For the moment anyway, she could hear his heath beating rapidly in his chest and a question came to her mind.

"I wonder how it feels..." Her voice rose so suddenly in the silent room it startled him.

"WHAAA? What ? What is it ?! Dont scare me like that !! (Name) you're so cruel! Why would you do this ?! Give me a warning first!" Zenitsu all but screamed as his arms went flailing around before settling around her body for a comfort hug, tears already gathering at the corner of his eyes.

(Name) laughed lightly at his reaction, patting his back as an apology, leaning into his embrace. She didn't mean to scare him but he was so cute when he was scared she didn't even feel guilty. Instead she decided to continue with her initial trail of though.

"I was just wondering, how is it for you, with your hearing ?"

She tilted her head just enough to look at him, meeting his perplexed soft brown eyes and she understood that she needed to explain where that question came from. She laid her head on his torso once again as she kept talking.

"For me, just laying like that and hearing your heartbeat is pretty calming. But I’m so close to you and its you and we're alone. You know ? So, how is it for you, hearing everyone all the time ?"

Zenitsu did not answer immediately and for a moment (Name) thought he never would. But finally, he spoke up:

"Honestly ? It's scary. Not just because of people's heartbeat or blood flow... even though some are pretty disturbing. But the scariest things are people's words. The things I hear sometimes... they can hurt more than a blade or a demon's fangs.” He looked sad as he spoke and (Name) started regretting letting her curiosity get the best of her. Noticing her apologetic look, Zenitsu smiled brightly and continued. “But it's fine! I used to think it was some sort of curse you know, but now i'm pretty happy with this gift! Ever since I met you and the guys, I have been able to hear such sweet sounds, so soft and calming, it still amaze me sometime. Except for that weirdo with his pig head... nothing in him sounds normal and i’m not even surprised."

For  that remark and because of Zenitsu's face, (Name) finally relaxed once more, letting escape another sweet laugh. It was definitely the sweetest sound Zenitsu ever heard. Caught in the tenderness of the moment, he decided to let her know how he felt.

"You said that listening to my heartbeat makes you feel calm. First of all, thank you for that. But just so you know, that’s how I feel everyday. As long as you’re by my side, simply listening to you makes me feel so much better. I can't thank you enough for being in my life." He concluded with a blush.

(Name) felt like she was melting. She rose her head and quickly kissed the boy's lips before hiding her reddening face in his shirt. This act of shyness prevented her from seeing how flustered Zenitsu was, but she definitely could hear his heart going crazy.

As for Zenitsu, he tried his best to relax, resting a hand on top of her head, the other on her back, and as he closed his eyes, he drowned out the sound of the rain and thunder to focus on a much more important melody: (Name)’s heart.

[jekkiefan]

I got tagged in @alexprompts prompt of the week: Tempting Fate

The characters are my own, and a part of a much larger story. I also ramble at the end.

Summary: In which two brothers go into a forest they were told not to go into.

“Now sit down and listen. It’s very important for you to remember this.

“Once upon a time, not many years ago, lived a clever, dark-haired scholar. He traveled far and wide to study every subject known to man. And on his travels he happened to stop in a village named--”

“Corsinby!” The two boys groaned.

The maid cleared her throat and began again. “He stopped here in Corsinby to see the king’s great library. Then suddenly the ground shook and the sky went black as a storm thundered over our village.” The maid’s tone changed into something more grave. “It was the terrible Dead Witch. As tall as a tree and made all of bones, her appearance is as horrid as her twisted soul. With ease she killed the king and claimed the castle. Now the scholar, having seen many a strange thing in this world, was not frightened by the Dead Witch.”

“But,” one of the boys interrupted, “the world can’t be that scary. I’d be very scared if I saw a lady made of bones.”

“Rory, have you seen the world outside Corsinby?” The maid said.

The boy shook his head.

“Well, it is very strange out there. Now back to the story. The very true story.

“The scholar stood before the Dead Witch and tried to make her leave. But the Dead Witch, being even more clever than the scholar, gave him an offer. He could read every book in the king’s library in exchange for his heart. And the scholar, who put knowledge about all else, accepted. With that she took his heart, and hid it in the castle. The scholar became almost inhuman. He had no will of his own, and only did as the Dead Witch told him. She never let him travel far from the castle grounds. And they say he only comes into Corsinby to steal children, much like yourselves, and bring them back to the Dead Witch to--”

“Eat their souls,” the other boy said unsurprised.

The maid continued on like the boy had never spoke. “So if you find yourselves in the Divide,” she pointed to the forest looming just outside their window, “you must never trust a word she says. No matter how clever you are, you can never outwit the Dead Witch. She will do anything to have your soul. Remember Dugan?”

The boys nodded.

“You don’t want to end up like him. All lost in his own mind. Do you?”

The boys shook their heads.

“Good!” The maid stood up from her chair and stretched. “Now remember, don’t go into the Divide, alright?”

Again they nodded with smiles on their faces.

“Now go outside and have fun.”

The boys bolted out the door. The sound of dirt grinding under their feet overpowered the distant nagging of the maid. They ran to the little stable where they kept all of their outside toys.

“Clancy,” said Rory holding two wooden sticks, “wanna play swords?”

The boy named Clancy shook his head. “I wanna play stick-and-ball.”

Rory considered this for a moment before replying. “Only if I get the painted stick.”

“But I was the one who found it last week.” “But, Clancy!” Rory groaned. “I never got to play with it yet.”

Clancy sighed, “Alright. But just this once!”

Together the boys set up their game and began to play. Hearts thumped fast and smiling cheeks turned pink as they ran around the yard. The clatter of wood and playful shouts rushed in the wind around them. Clancy ran circles around Rory, who kept tripping over his own wooden stick. There was an opening and Rory took it. He whacked the ball, sending it high in the air, and into the wall of trees.

They stood in front of the towering Divide.

“It couldn’t have gone far,” Clancy said with a small voice.

Rory opened his mouth to say something contrary.

“I’ll get it!” Clancy dashed into the green.

“Hey! Stop!”

“No!”

Rory ran after. “But I’m the other brother! Father said you have to listen to me!”

But Clancy was too far into the shadow of the Divide to hear him.

Rory searched for his brother and found him minutes later. He was balancing on a fallen tree. The branches broken long ago from the impact.

“You hit that ball farther than I thought.” Clancy tried to kick one of the small branches off. He wasn’t successful.

“What about the Dead Witch or the scholar?”

Clancy shrugged. “You know that story’s not true. The maid only told us that so we wouldn’t get eaten by wolves or bears.”

“Wolves and bears are still bad!”

“I don’t see any.” Clancy jumped off the tree and began to walked away.

Rory huffed at his brother.

“You can keep lookout, but I kinda like it here. It’s quiet and huge! We could play pretend for hours in here.”

Rory looked around at the intertwined branches of trees that surrounded them. The leaf-covered ground was still and welcoming, and the air smelled of peaceful life. He could see he and his brother playing knights among the mossy bark. Rory couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

A sharp snap, and a low growl came from behind.

Rory froze, but Clancy slowly turned his head.

Only white fangs were viable in the green dark.

Clancy grabbed his brother and made an attempt to run. He would have gotten far if Clancy hadn't tripped on his petrified sibling. They fell with a thud that knocked out most of their senses. Both boys looked just in time to see the snarling wolf stalk closer. And also just in time to see the same wolf get hit by a rock.

The wolf looked for it’s attacker. Just then a screeching yell came at it with a branch. Frightened by this entrance alone, the wolf fled the scene. The boys were alone with this…

Girl.

A little girl saved them from the jaws of the wolf. Her hair was messy like a bush, and brown like the earth. She looked like she had been birthed from the forest, like it was her home. The girl looked at them and said, “Did he hurt you?”

The boys shook their heads.

“Good!” Then she smiled excitedly. “You’re welcome!”

“Th-thank you,” Rory stammered.

Clancy sat up. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Siofra. I never met strangers before. But my dad talks about them all the time.”

“You live her?” Clancy said puzzled.

She nodded her head enthusiastically.

Now Rory rose to his feet. “I never heard of people living in these woods.”

Siofra shrugged. “Well I do.”

“How did you scare that wolf away?” Rory said looking at the rock.

“You just gotta make a lot of noise, I guess.”

“You guess?” the boys questioned.

She swatted a bug with the branch still in her hand. “Well it was my first time fighting a wolf.”

“I wish my mom and father would let me fight wolves.” Clancy kicked the rock Siofra had thrown.

“My mum and dad don’t let me fight wolves either.” She furrowed her brows and said seriously, “Don’t tell them I saved you.”

Both the boys agreed not to tell anyone about the wolf.

Clancy began to remember the reason for their journey. “Have you seen a ball? My brother and I were playing with it.”

“No,” She shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Do you wanna play with me instead? We can catch squirrels or play pretend.” She beamed from ear to ear, like a child seeing their first snow.

The two brothers looked at each other for permission.

Rory turned to Siofra. “Sounds fun. What story do you want to play pretend?”

As Siofra was thinking, Clancy blurted out “The Dead Witch and the scholar!”

“Who?” Siofra tilted her head.

“You don’t know the story?” Clancy crossed his arms, feeling a little happy that he knew something she didn’t. “It’s about a scholar who has his heart taken by the Dead Witch. And she eats the souls of children.”

Siofra giggled. “She sounds kinda scary. I like her.”

“What!” Clancy exclaimed. “She’s evil!”

“Maybe we can chose a different story,” Rory recommended.

“Like the two sisters!” Siofra clapped her hands. “It’s about how a nice sister is killed by her evil sister, and she gets turned into a magic harp.”

Rory looked horrified.

“Are there any knights?” Clancy asked.

“Just one. He marries the evil sister.”

Clancy seized a stick. “I call playing the knight! You can be the nice sister.”

“But I don’t want to play the evil sister.” Rory put his hands on his hips.

“I’ll be the evil sister.” Siofra then put on a condescending face that was rather convincing for a child. “You can be the minstrel. And this,” she picked up a forked stick, “can be the nice sister. She doesn’t do much once she’s a harp, so it’s okay.”

Rory sighed and decided to play the minstrel.

Together they played this game for hours. Their imagination molded the tale into something all their own. Soon the minstrel was the knight’s long lost brother who wanted to be king. After the harp played it’s song the evil sister banned all music from the kingdom and turned the harp into a swan. However Clancy thought that the evil sister shouldn’t be able to do magic. But Siofra defended her choice on the grounds that it was fun. And Rory saw the sky had changed from daytime blue into evening purple.

“Maybe we can play this tomorrow?” He offered.

Both Siofra and Clancy looked at each other, the flames of an oncoming argument dying. “Sure!”

“If we get our chores done early we can come midday,” Clancy said.

“Alright.” Siofra began to happily bounce away. “See you tomorrow, Rory and Clancy!”

The boys waved as she faded into the woods. They then made their way back home, hoping that their mother wouldn’t be upset with them for being go for so long.

Siofra weaved around the ancient trees and hopped over moss-covered tree limbs. Evening light trickled through the leaves as she made her way to a large clearing. In the middle of the a rolling field of flowering grass was a castle almost hidden in the mist.

And there was a figure.

As tall as a tree and made of bones. She was dressed in black and gold with jewels decorating her ivory body. It was the Dead Witch.

“Mum!” Siofra called.

The Dead Witch turned her head to Siofra. “There you are! Where have you been? I hope you haven’t been playing in the woods.”

“I haven’t, Mum,” Siofra lied. “There’s wolves in there.” She hugged the skeletal woman’s legs.

The Dead Witch laughed. She ran her fingers through the girl’s hair, like a spider tending to her delicate web. “Let’s find your father now. He’s looking for you on the north side.”

Siofra happily took her mother’s hand.

~The end~

Well that was a lot of fun. Hopefully it makes sense. This ended up being longer than I anticipated. But if you have questions about these characters feel free to ask me.

Fun fact the story of the two sisters is based off of this song. It’s actually a really old song that has many versions, but this is my favorite one.

[littlejedii]

I’ll Be Fine By The Morning

did i procrastinate studying for 2 exams to write this shitty halloween story? yes! did i also not even get it done in time for halloween? also yes. title from permission slip by mainland. this is a bit rushed but happy halloweed!! story under the break! :)

Fall is usually bright, crisp days with a chilly wind that smells like decaying leaves and bonfires. Brilliant shades of red and gold and orange. The cool nights of wide open skies, the ones where you can just almost-not-quite see your breath on the wind.

But not in fucking Sellwood.

What a shitty place to be in the fall. The trees don’t change to any magnificent colors, but instead turn a muddy brown then drop their leaves unceremoniously into the wet, dirty streets. It rains almost constantly in the fall, not the light patter on your window which helps you sleep, but the thunderous, dark sky, drenching, gray, freezing downpour. The weather does a number on all the residents, of course, and the upcoming threat of hooligans making Halloween mischief really puts everyone in a shitty state.

People are so shitty, and the weather’s so shitty, and God why is everything just so shitty?

Probably because it’s around the holidays, probably because they’re always hyper-aware of what- but really who- is missing. Halloween might actually be the worst for Mitch. Freddie loved Halloween.

And then he died. Leaving Mitch in this podunk, bland, gray-ass town all alone.

What a shitty thing to do.

There aren’t enough houses to egg to forget that Freddie was a half-assed Jason Voorhees every single year. No amount of pumpkin smashing will make him forget that Freddie would sit on him and fart until Mitch handed over all his Kit-Kats. He can’t even begin to think about toilet-papering, because who else would have taught him the perfect toss? When Scratch had forced them all to watch Pet Sematary last year, Mitch spent the weeks after walking around the woods to find a haunted burial ground to shove his dead brother in just so he’d come back.

It’s been even harder lately with his Mom locked up, too. At least when he was a kid, she’d try and lighten the mood. She’d save and save for supplies to make him any costume he wanted, buy him any candy bar he desired in the biggest king-size bar she could find.

He always asked for Kit-Kats.

The fairly decent thing about Halloween is that now that they’re older everyone throws parties. Getting plastered by yourself to drown your pain is just pathetic, but getting plastered in someone’s basement where everybody is wearing plastic fangs is apparently just fine.

So this is where he finds himself. He barely knows the kid who’s house they’re trashing. Cory, from his Spanish class that one year the school tried to make him take a language, is just as shitty as everyone else in this town and throws a shitty party. But they stay anyway, downing lukewarm beers on his ratty couch as the basement fills with thrumming music and smoke. Mitch doesn’t wear a costume, obviously, because that’s fucking lame. His friends have taken to their usual masks, and everyone else is pretty decked out. The thumping of the bass vibrates in his chest, which hitches when he catches sight of a curly black head weaving through the crowd.

“Spots,” he yells over the music, springing up form the couch so quickly Javier startles. Jonas turns, blinking in surprise behind a sloppily-cut orange cloth mask. He pushes it up his forehead, causing his hair to stick out wildly in all directions, and Mitch could cry.

To his absolute fucking delight, Jonas grins wide as he makes his way over.

“Hey! I didn’t expect you to be here,” the smaller boy yells up over the music, “what’re you supposed to be?”

“I’m a werewolf,” he shouts back, and Jonas looks at him skeptically.

“You’re wearing exactly what you usually wear,” he gestures to Mitch’s torn t-shirt and jeans.

“Yeah well I guess it ain’t a full moon tonight then, huh?” His grin grows as Jonas tosses his head back in laughter, his shoulders shaking as a bit of beer spills from the can in his hand.

“That’s actually pretty clever,” he’s still giggling, but stops as he sees Mitch curiously eyeing the booze and quickly shakes his head. “I haven’t taken a sip. It’s yours.” He pushes the can against Mitch’s chest. It’s warm from Jonas’ fingers, and Mitch shrugs as he knocks a sip back.

“And what’re you, Joey? A frog?” Jonas frowns and looks down at his green t-shirt.

“No, I was supposed to be a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but Sid and I waited too long to make our costumes so it’s pretty bad. I don’t even have nunchucks.”

Mitch has no idea what those are or why this alien frog guy would have them, but Jonas’ nerd shit is so goddamn cute he can’t help but chuckle.

“Aren’t there s’posed to be like 6 of you? Which one’s your clone?”

“4,” Jonas corrects quickly. “And she wanted to be Casey Jones.” Behind Jonas’ shoulder, he sees Sid fumbling a hockey stick under arm, trying and failing to rip bong through the slats of a white mask as she laughs hysterically. He nods as if it means anything to him.

“You ain’t drinkin’ tonight Joey?” The lukewarm beer in his fist is halfway gone now. It’s certainly not his first of the night and he could use at least two more to start feeling a buzz.

“No... I mean, I’d rather smoke, but only if you wanted to,” his soft eyes are downcast, his voice coy under the pounding music. Mitch grins, because Jonas could ask to smoke his entire stash and he’d hand it over without question.

“Yeah. This place is fuckin’ lame anyway, let’s get outta here.” He wraps a wiry arm around Jonas’ shoulder and pulls him up the stairs, away from the smoky basement and sweaty bodies, out into the cool night air. They smoke a bowl as they wander back to the trailer park. Well, Mitch smokes a bowl while Jonas taps out after 2 hits, but they’re both pleasantly buzzed when they push into the trailer, Jonas’ side pressed into Mitch’s, freckled fingers wrapped around a thin wrist, big hands threading through tangled curls. Jonas is laughing, uneven and high, and only goes redder as he snorts. Mitch is teary-eyed too, his loud cackles pressed into Jonas’ temple as Jonas stumbles onto his knees over the carpet divide between the kitchen and living room.

Their laughter seems to echo through the trailer, amplified by the cold dark air in the empty room. The only sound which hums on when they finally break into soft, breathy giggles is the radiator, clicking rhythmically before shuddering on. Jonas rubs at his bare arms, shivering only slightly on the ground as Mitch fumbles with the dials on the ancient TV. Mitch eyes Jonas and goes off to his room, retrieving his filthy blanket and big plaid sweatshirt, throwing both around Jonas shoulders and guffawing at the muffled laughter.

Jonas clambers onto the couch and tosses the sweatshirt back, starting to untangle the blanket at pull his mask away from his forehead. He gives Mitch a look when the garment is thrown back into his lap.

“It’s for you,” Mitch chuckles in response, leaning back against the armrest and tossing his legs into Jonas’ lap. As the smaller boy worms his way into the sweatshirt, pink lights drifting over to the drafty window, Mitch sinks into the plush cushions, letting the sensation of the static hum drifting through his extremities warm him. Jonas unfurls the blanket over them, but pouts the moment Mitch tugs it up over his shoulders to his chin.

“No fair,” Jonas starts, “You look so cozy.” Mitch hisses out a laugh through his teeth, pulling the covers away and extending his arm with a teasing grin.

“C’mere then, don’t ya wanna be warmed up Spots?” he’s half-joking, fully assuming Jonas will shove him softly like always.

But he doesn’t. Holy shit, he most certainly doesn’t. The smaller boy lowers into his invitation, curling underneath his arm and pressing his face into Mitch’s ribcage with a long sigh. Mitch freezes, cold sober the immediate moment that Jonas nestles into his side. His arm stays up for a moment as he watches Jonas turn and rub at his red eyes as he squints to see what’s on the TV. Jonas’ ass is pressed right up against his side now, and his breathing has stopped.

How gone is Jonas right now, to want to do this? Yeah, Jonas is one cuddly motherfucker when he’s high, but it’s usually just those soft moments of him leaning into his shoulder. Is he taking advantage of the smaller boy, who now is examining a spot on his hand where two freckles touch? Is this too far? Will Jonas regret this when he’d sober? Shit, fuck, will he be angry when he’s sober? Oh god, will he be hurt? Or worse, embarrassed?

Fuck, he totally will, won’t he? Fuck, he totally will. Fuck. Fuck.

“Woah, no way, I am not watching this,” Jonas blurts out, wide-eyed staring at the television, pulling Mitch from an imminent self-destructive panic attack.

“What the fuck is it?” Mitch says, turning to press into Jonas and narrowing his eyes at the TV, trying to sound calm. “Oh, Joey c’mon, this ain’t even scar-”

It’s ‘Friday the 13th Part VI: Jason Lives.’

Freddie’s favorite. 

He bolts upright abruptly, jostling Jonas as he clambers off the couch towards the TV in two long strides. In his cloudy mind, he can’t think of anything more than to turn it off, slamming his finger into the button and watching the screen flash then go dark.

“...Mit-”

“Yeah, fuck that movie. We don’t have to watch it,” he says curtly, cringing at the way his voice wavers. When he turns back, he doesn’t want to look at Jonas. But he’s so small on the couch, looking soft and warm in Mitch’s sweatshirt, eyes half lidded and one eyebrow cocked, that Mitch can’t help but stare.

“I thought you loved scary movies.”

“That one sucks.”

“You only like the ones that suck,” Jonas snorts and breaks down into giggles as Mitch looks out the window into the moonlight, willing himself to laugh too. But he doesn’t, he can’t, and Jonas trails off. He says something, but Mitch is zoned out.

“What?” Mitch shakes his head, trying to clear the fuzziness.

“Why does that one suck? Does it scare you?” Mitch actually snorts harshly, and Jonas frowns. “Hey, you know I won’t judge, everything scares me. So if it scares you...”

“It doesn’t scare me,” Mitch says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. Jonas’ head lulls to the side, eyebrow still arched and questioning. “It... it makes me... it was Freddie’s- Freddie liked it. H-he loved it. He fucking loved Halloween,” he’s loud at first, brave, but by the end he’s mumbling just above a whisper and digging his nails into his skin.

“Oh... Mitch, I-” Jonas sounds so broken, so sad for him and he’s so not worth it.

“No, Joey, we’re not talkin’ about this, seriously. I can’t always bum you out like this when we’re high,” he laughs humorlessly, itching the back of his neck with discomfort as Jonas shifts upward. There’s a long, strained pause before Jonas pats the couch cushion.

“C’mere,” he says, and Mitch robotically does as he’s told. “What was his favorite candy?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Mitch spits, but Jonas just leans into his shoulder.

“I know his favorite movie, so why not?” More silence, filled by the sound of Mitch’s uneven breathing.

“Kit Kats.”

“Good choice,” Jonas hums into Mitch’s skin. They both turn toward the hallway as the sound of Buddy’s scratching drifts down from his room, but his eyes dart down to Jonas as he feels a hand wrap around his bicep.

“I bet he was Jason,” Jonas muses.

“...What?”

“Freddie. I bet he was Jason for Halloween, at least one year. Seems like something he’d do, at least from what you’ve told me.”

“Every year,” Mitch swallows thickly. Jonas laughs, genuine and real but soft. He lays his head into Mitch’s arm again with a sigh.

“I’m sorry this Halloween’s so lame, then,” he hums, sounding apologetic. Mitch pulls back, and Jonas jumps.

“Shit, what’re you talking about?” he blurts out. ‘This is exactly how I’d wanna spend it’ sits on his tongue, and out of his mouth comes, “I’m usually alone, so this is way better.”

Jonas raises his eyebrows, and Mitch coughs, “No, that’s not what I meant, I meant like actually this is what I’d wanna do, not just have you here ‘cus I didn’t wanna be alone, I didn’t mean it that-”

Jonas throws his head back again in laughter, curling his hands around his stomach and flinging himself back into the couch. It echoes against the cold walls of the trailer as tears start to form at the corner of his eyes. Mitch covers his red face, laying his head in his hands and mumbling for Jonas to stop and relax and seriously shut up before he’s laughing too, ugly and rough into his hands.

“W-well,” Jonas starts breathlessly, his chest still shaking with giggles before he clears his throat, “if it makes any difference, this is probably the best Halloween I’ve had, too.”

“We haven’t done shit, Spots,” Mitch runs his fingers through his hair, shaking his head and looking down into Jonas hazel eyes which seem to glow in the darkness.

“Yeah, but I’m having fun... and you’re not alone,” he teases, before adding softly, “and I’m the one who gets to keep you company.”

Holy shit. How the hell did he get so lucky?

“What?”

Oh fuck, that actually just exited his mouth.

“I-” he starts, looking everywhere but Jonas’ eyes, “I- I- uh, I didn’t mean-”

“Oh... oh, no, it’s fine. We all say stuff we don’t mean. When we’re high. I guess,”

“Fuck, c’mon, you know I meant it.”

“You just said you didn’t, Mitch, it’s really fine.”

“I did,” he says firmly, leaning towards Jonas, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth as he desperately tries to explain away his stupid mistake. “I do, I am lucky. To have you here. I am.”

There’s a silence after he makes the affirmation. Their thighs are touching and Mitch gulps as he realizes how close he’s leaned in, fingers curled around Jonas’ shoulder. He’s staring at Jonas, not into his eyes but at his nose, at the freckles there, and he can’t help his gaze from wandering down, further, to his lips. Subconsciously he runs his tongue over his own lip, lost in his high and the color of Jonas’ skin.

Jonas leans back, and Mitch stupidly leans with him until Jonas is pressed into the cushions, curls spread out like a halo around his head.

“You don’t mean that,” Jonas whispers, and Mitch can feel his warm breath.

“I do,” his voice comes out softer than he’d meant it as he feels Jonas’ hands on his chest, curling into the fabric of his t-shirt and not pushing away like he’d expected them to. He’s waiting for Jonas to shove him, curl away from him, anything, but he doesn’t. So Mitch lowers just slightly, coming down on his elbow and using his other arm to cage Jonas in and curl around his head.

“You d-don’t” Jonas whispers again, and Mitch lets himself fall further until their bodies are so close, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off Jonas, but not yet touching. After it feels like they’ve been leaning back for a century, Mitch’s nose meets Jonas’.

“C’mon Joey, you gotta know I do,” he mumbles. Their breath is fast, and he can feel the warmth of Jonas’ lower lip just almost against him. Their noses are pressed together, their foreheads touching, but neither of them move. Mitch wills his body to shift, to do it, God just fucking do it already, kiss him like he’s always wanted to, but he’s frozen.

“Will- will you still want th-this, like want me, when you’re not high?” Jonas squeaks softly, and Mitch crumbles.

“I- fuck, of course... always. You want this, though? Jonas, if you wake up tomorrow and you hate stupid ugly dumb Mitch Mueller for kissing you, I will hate myself so much more-”

He’s silenced as Jonas pulls them together, their lips colliding awkwardly as their teeth cut into their skin.

Jonas just kissed him. Jonas just kissed him. And he’s still doing it, holy shit. Jonas slides his trembling, inexperienced hands up from Mitch’s chest to his neck, into his hair, and Mitch shudders as the smaller boy whimpers only slightly. He wastes no time deepening the kiss, prodding Jonas with his tongue, tasting his teeth, gnawing on his lip, pulling back to breathe heavily for a moment before pulling him in even more tightly than before. In a moment when he pulls back, to peek his eyes open to just confirm that this is actually really happening, his chest twists at the way Jonas glows under the pink light illuminating the space around them.

Jonas opens his eyes too, face flushed and lips swollen and Mitch melts.

“So lucky.”

They kiss until their high wears off, until it feels so real and visceral that Mitch has to pull away and fall onto his side, gather Jonas into his chest and nuzzle into his hair.

“Why’d you stop?” Jonas whispers, tugging at the wet collar of his t-shirt, pulling it over the marks starting to bloom on his neck.

“I didn’t wanna take things too far,” he hums, kissing Jonas’ curls and trying to angle his hips away from Jonas’ side. His plan backfires, and he ends up pressing himself straight into Jonas’ plush hip, causing them both to jump. “I also gotta cool down a little,” he mumbles, looking away. Jonas giggles breathlessly.

“Yeah... me too... because I should be getting home soon,” he looks up but Mitch doesn’t look back, just lets his eyes slip shut and pretends to not feel his heart pull.

“Not yet, please” he whispers into the side of Jonas’ freckled face.

“I don’t want to, but it’s past 2 and I know Sid’s probably-”

“It’s past 2?” He interrupts, eyes widening. Jonas nods underneath him, inching his chin up for another kiss. Mitch feels like the king of the universe when he ducks down to press their lips together softly, almost getting lost in the feeling of Jonas surrounding him before he raises up.

“So I guess it’s not Halloween anymore....”

“Mm, I guess not,” Jonas murmurs against his chin, kissing the underside of his jaw.

“I haven’t liked Halloween since- for a while,” Mitch says, muffled by Jonas’ lips as he pulls face down again.

“You like Halloween again?”

“If I get to spend it like this, yeah.” Mitch wraps Jonas tighter, presses his face into the crook of his neck and inhales as he squeezes Jonas’ middle, savoring him.

“That could be arranged,” Jonas says softly before their kissing again, forgetting the talk of leaving or stopping or cooling down as they wrap up into each other again, and for the first time in a long time Mitch isn’t lonely. The room glows pink and the moon glows silver in the fall air, and it’s not shitty, it’s not empty, and nothing’s missing.

[seventhtower]

FRANK REVIEWS A MOVIE: Issue #3 - IT (2017) Part I

                So, here’s the thing: this movie sucks. But in order for me to accurately convey how much it sucks, I’m gong to break this review down into several parts: 1) The movie by itself, 2) The movie compared to the TV mini series, 3) The movie compared to the novel. I think it’s pretty important to address each in its own category and not mesh the three together. That way we can all see why “It” (2017) doesn’t stand up, no matter what the excuse is.                 But before we delve too deep into the sewers of Derry, I want to start off with things I DID enjoy about the movie. They’re few, but they are note worthy:                 - Some subtle things: There were a few things in the movie that were genuinely creepy to me, because they were so subtle. Like the kid show playing on all the TVs. Or my favorite part of the movie when the creepy old lady in the background of the library stops and stares at Ben reading the Derry history book. However, as much as I liked these bits, the movie always had a way to fuck it up and go overboard.                 - Neat visuals: I liked some of the design to a few things quite a bit! How the kids floating around the tower of junk, Pennywise’s blood floating upward when he was hurt, Pennywise’s “deadlights”, even the clown suit started to grown on me even if the makeup didn’t. I applaud some of the concept design, because it was pretty cool sometimes. And the cinematography is included here, because there was a lot of awesome shots. Like Stan fixing the askew painting on the wall, also fixing the camera’s perspective. Neat!                 - Funny: Some of the kids were great in this movie! Ritchie was hilarious, Bill and Stan were acted great, and Ben was adorable. They did splendid!

Alright, that’s about it for the stuff I liked. Moving on.

Chapter One: “IT” (2017)

                DISCLAIMER: I am a VERY big fan of the novel. You will often find me saying it’s basically my bible. A lot of questions I will be asking in this section I already know the answers to. What I aim to show is how an average viewer who is not privy to the novelor has any or no memory of the tv series can have these questions, and can be left wondering. I’m taking myself out of my fan shoes and putting myself in silly ass clown shoes, if you will, and will review this objectively.                 One of my friends streamed the entire opening sequence on her Snapchat before I saw the film myself and I was able to catch a sneak peak. And what I saw was dreadful. I think the entire film can be summed up with that whole pre-title section. Bad pacing, bad editing, not scary. Something like this:                 The story starts off with two boys in a room making a boat. The walls are littered with 80’s movie posters (trying hard not to pretend like I haven’t seen that aesthetic recently). Our lead child actor (?) (I’ll be honest by the end I’m not sure if there is a leader of the bunch), Bill, sits in bed sick, while his younger brother, Georgie, waits to be handed the boat. But first he must get the wax to it wont sink. But the was is in the basement! Reluctantly, he trugs down the dark basement stairs and finds the wax. During this slow climb downward a very loud, obnoxious, blare of his walkie-talkie cuts in: his brother reminding him to hurry up. Was that noise supposed to scare me? It didn’t even make anyone in the audience jump. Hmm. He eventually finds the wax and is stopped by a pair of shinny eyes staring at him from the darkness. He shines a flashlight on them and they turn out to be. . . I’m not sure exactly, but they were not belonging to monster. Que loud “scary noise” and a bit of thunder, and Georgie bolts backup the stairs to have some small chat with his brother before he’s off down the street chasing the boat in the rain. I’m not sure how this next part happens, because the camera clearly shows us, from his perspective, that there are two barricades directly next to each other. But he dips under one, and on his way up its revealed there’s another one (even thought they already showed us that) and he smacks his head and collapses. This kids kinda dumb. Anyway, he loses his boat in the sewer and this is where things start to get worse. We’re introduced to Pennywise, the villain of the movie here, as he greets Georgie from inside the sewer’s opening. Why is this kid talking to such a scary as clown? Just listen to it. It’s sounds like psychopath. This kid is dumb. The unfriendly clown chats it up with the not so bright child for a bit, then it cuts away to a woman and her cat opening her porch shutters. Why take the focus on Gerogie and the clown? Why was this so important enough to cut to? She doesn’t do anything. Back to the kid, and he’s about to take off, when Pennywise offers him his boat back. Come on. This clown is legit drooling. And is it cock-eyed?! What in the world. . . No way a kid is going to find this appealing enough to talk to. But, as established, this kids dumb, so he reaches for the boat, and the clowns face warps in a horrific toothy monstrosity of CGI effects. I’m not even frightened about all the fangs, I’m more scared about how bad it looks. Then we snap cut to a close up of It biting down on Georgie’s arm ripping it off. Something tells me that’s going to be the pattern here. . . Loud low scary noise, snap cut to close up of a scary thing. We’ll see. After having his arm bitten off and not passing out from shock or blood loss in a few seconds flat, the kid manages to crawl away yelling, before being drug down into the sewer. The old lady seen before notices the large amount of blood pooling in the rain. Did they really need a shot disrupting the flow the kid and clown just to show this old lady ahead of time? They could have cut that other part out and just shown her here and it would have worked fine. Man. The title comes after in a blaring cacophony of children laughing. And that’s that.

                The movie follows this formula pretty tightly. ESPECIALLY when it comes to the scares. Every one of them has a kid in a scary situation then the “loud spooky noise” happens, it cuts away to a close up of a gross face. I thought it was a coincidence the second time I noticed. By the end of the movie I was rolling my eyes. Jump scares lose what little effect they have when they’re predictable. There wasn’t a single thing in this movie that frightened me. There was the creepy bits mentioned in the cool stuff section, but nothing long lasting or made my heart quicken. And it’s not that I can’t be scared at all. Because I can be. But this movie didn’t even get close. The only part that could have potentially made me squirm was when Pennywise jumps out of the projection on the wall. But it is ruined by the weirdly paced slide effect. It kept cutting out to blackness for no reason. It wasn’t like he was slowly getting closer all creep like every time the light went back on. That would have been awesome. But he was already charging at the kids. It felt like a normal scene that had the cut always thrown in as an afterthought.                 And this is my main problem with this movie. It’s lack of subtlety. Once they have something going for it they ruin it by throwing a million other ideas into the scene. Ben reading the book in the library with the old woman in the background would have been great by itself. But they had to add an over the top chase scene. Instead of creating a sense of unsettling fear build up they opt for loud noises, cheap jump scares, and horrible CGI.                 And what’s with Pennywise running at the camera all the time? Almost every single instance of him creating the scare for the scene it’s him running head long at the viewer, usually having a weird epileptic shaking fit! How is that scary? And why does it look so awful? It looks as if were designed to be viewed for 3D but didn’t translate at all to 2D. Everything's blurred and frigidity. Isn’t he supposed to be the scariest part of the movie? Then why is he the least scary? Also, the voice It has is a little annoying to me. Its like a weird Jack Nicholson/ Heath Ledger mix. Its both growly and whiny in the span of a few words. I’ve seen a lot of people applaud his acting, but the most I saw him do of worth was drool. But I’m not going to hand out gold stars for physical acting for drool.                 To destroy the terror, or lack there of, are the Losers Club. The one with the glasses was pretty funny. But sometimes the humor gets a little out of place. Once again, lacking in subtlety. Then kid with the pills, was also the funny one, too? So, there’s two jokers, I guess. But his acting started to get annoying over time. It felt over the top and unnatural. By the way, that kid’s arm was NOT broken when he fell on the table. They show his arm clear as day and it aint broke until the next time they show him. Bill was played well, but his character was written poorly. He must be as dumb as his brother if he thinks he’s still alive to be found. And is his motivation to find his brother, or to kill It? That wasn’t really clear. Bev, I thought was pretty cool. Tough, strong female. Until she’s taken and used as the damsel in distress. Guess she wasn’t that tough. Ben, as a chubby kid at heart myself, was relatable. He was probably my favorite of the bunch. Kind of a nerd, with all the history stuff, secretly in love with a childhood crush. But he probably got it the worst out of all of them. He got it the worst from Henry, the bully, by having his name almost engraved into his stomach, and he also got it the worst from It by having his stomach slashed opened. The later was a bit odd to me, because no one seemed to really care that his stomach was literally ripped open. Not even him. And it wasn’t just a scratch. It was pretty bad. Dude, go to the hospital for that. Then there was the Jewish kid. I like that actor a lot. He had this natural inevitability to his character that was really nice. But he didn’t really do much. Then there’s, what was his name, Mike? Mark? The black kid. He wasn’t even In the movie for a large amount of it. And that’s kinda sad. Because I can see has the potential for some acting chops. And its even worse that all the bonding the kids do in the film, he isn’t a part of. He genuinely had no role other than to provide the gun thing. By the way, I don’t know if he should pay more attention to his Grandfather or something, but I don’t know how he got “I’m an outsider. I should stick to myself.” Form the speech he was given in the beginning. That’s a bit of a stretch.                 The subtlety knows no bounds even in the end, where the kids literally beat their fears into submission. But they still seemed kinda scared of them though, so, I’m not sure if that worked or not. But to be fair, I probably would have beat that clown, too, after doing that lame ass jig of a dance. Was that supposed to be humorous? I have no idea. But it was dumb. And I saw Ashlee Simpson do it better on SNL.                 All in all this movie is a cluster fuck. Things feel out of order or timed weirdly. Like why are we told what a leper is like half an hour AFTER we see a leper? All the scenes have no flow or rhythm to them. They feel like small shorts tied up with a very thing thread. For instance, they help Ben and in the next scene they’re friends. It just feels like stuff was missing to explain everything better. There are so many questions out in the air without any explanation. Here are a few:                 - Why does it keep showing “Silver” on Bill’s bike? Is that important?                 - What is that tubular building they kept showing? The one on the postcard? Is THAT   important?                 - Why does the Mark see multiple set of arms crawling out from behind the door when it was just his mom and dad that died in the fire?                 - Ben mentioned a “Bradly Gang”. What’s that? They never mentioned it.                 - Why is Pennywise a clown in the first place? Is it because Ritchie is scared of clowns? But he was a clown to everyone else, and before we even find that information out.                 - Was it actually a turtle that brushed by their feet in the lake? Was that important?                 - Why does Beverly cut her hair? Something her dad did? Didn’t I see that in the new Power Rangers movie too?                 - Why is Stan scared of the painting? I get that he IS scared of it, but why? They could have set that up better. And didn’t I see a similar painting escapes the painting is in the room thin the new Conjuring movie too?                 - How does Bev come to the conclusion that thembeing all together is why they were able to hurt It? They don’t know that. They never tried hurting it without them all together.                 - Does Ben have parents? And seriously, why doesn’t anyone care about his stomach slashed open?!                 - Why does It attack Mark with mantis hands(?) during the final fight?                 - Why does It turn into a mummy to attack Ben during the final fight?                 - Why does It turn into Bev’s dad when we all know she just practically killed him not too long ago.                 - If It can just capture them all one at a time like he did Bev, why are the rest of them even a threat.                 - Why does It turn into the demigorgon form Stranger Things? What are those weird lights in its mouth? Why does it make Bev into a psychic?                 - Why does this remind me of Stranger Things so much?                 - There are four bullies; why can I only remember two of their names? Who are the other two? Why weren’t they given names?                 - Why were the bullies even relevant? They didn’t do much that couldn’t have been taken out with no effect on the story.                 - Is Henry dead at the end?                 - Why did Henry need to kill his dad?                 - Henry’s dads the cop from the beginning of the movie? Were we supposed to know that?                 - How old are these kids? They look so young, but come out of Derry High School.                 - Why is Henry “looking” for Ben when school lets out?                 - Did they actually hurt It during the final fight? He doesn’t appear to be wounded, just wet.                 - Why does his head disintegrate before he falls?                 - Does the gun thing actually hurt him when Bill shoots him?                 - How did the kids get out of the sewers?                 - Why didn’t they try to get more adult help?                 - Why can’t Bev’s dad see the blood in the restroom?                 - Why do those old people in the car ignore Ben’s cries for help? Was the balloon supposed to mean they were actually Pennywise?                 - Why does It have a lair in a such an obvious spot? Anyone can just find the hole in the ceiling and look down and see all the kids floating.                 - Why did they all cut their hands in the end? Was it like a blood oath?                 - It feels like there's a book that would explain this stuff better. Is there a book?                 As you can see, this movie made me have a lot of questions. And some of this stuff felt like it was forced in with no explanation on purpose, but I’m not sure why. And half of those questions had nothing to do with the main story, so I’m really scratching my head on why they were included.                 In summation, I think this movie had a lot of potential going for it. It could have been pretty neat. But the lack of control to hold back left it bloated with too much junk. The scares weren’t scary, the clown wasn’t clowny, and the kids, while some were good, were somewhat ever the top.                 I give it it 4/10 Tim Currys.

Continued in “Part Two: ‘It’ (2017) vs ‘It’ (1990)

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

Ok I'm starting to feel like I'm using you for your wonderful writing skills but your fics are always so PERFECT & I just cAN'T HELP MYSELF I'M SORRY plz send help; anyway, what about sterek + “i’m sorry i kicked you in my scared haze in the haunted house, can i do something to make it up to you?” au?

Sorry this took so long, but who doesn’t like Halloween fics in the middle of January? Also on ao3!

Stiles had no idea why he kept letting himself be dragged into these kinds of situations. Then he remembered that he and Scott had known each other for literally their entire lives and it made a little bit more sense. Not much, but enough.

Enough to remind him why he went along with Scott's asinine attempts at wooing Allison and getting off the bench at lacrosse practice. Enough to remind him why once he got his driver's license he played chauffeur for Scott and Allison on almost all of their dates.

But it didn't make enough sense for him not to be suspicious when Scott came to him and asked for a ride to the high school's annual haunted house.

For the past three years of their high school careers, Scott had never once shown any interest whatsoever in going to the haunted house. He always said it was too childish, that he would much rather stay home and watch Halloween specials.

Stiles had a feeling that Scott's sudden desire to attend the Halloween tradition had something to do with Allison. And his dad had always taught him to trust his instincts.

Sure enough, when Stiles had pressed Scott about why exactly he wanted to go, the first word out of his mouth had been, Allison. Stiles didn't even pretend to be surprised.

Apparently, Scott's plan was to impress Allison by showing off how brave he was at the haunted house, all the students assured that this year it would be genuinely scary. Utilizing the same technique as people who took their dates to see horror movies in hopes of being the one their terrified date could cuddle up to, Scott planned to be the big, strong man whose arms Allison could fall into.

It was doomed to fail.

Because nevermind the fact that Allison was one of the most badass people Stiles had ever met, going on hunting trips with her dad every other weekend and starting an archery club at the school, that wasn't why the plan was destined for failure. It was going to fail because Scott was one of the biggest scaredy cats the world had ever known.

Just last week, he had almost fainted when Stiles had gotten a paper cut in English class, the mere sight of a few droplets of blood nearly sending him right to the floor. A few days before that he had gotten woozy from seeing a particularly rare piece of rib eye, blanching at the sight of dinner Stiles had slaved over for hours, just picking at a baked potato instead.

Stiles had told Scott as much, detailing all the times, just that week, that he had been scared shitless by the most plebeian, unassuming everyday things. From the microwave beeping to a dog barking in the middle of the night, Stiles had listed them in order of occurrence, going on for several minutes before Scott finally cut him off.

Invoking the bro code, Scott pleaded for Stiles to just come along with them, desperately in need of a ride with his mom using the car for work and his dirt bike on the fritz. After a few minutes of deliberation, Stiles had finally agreed to drive them to the haunted house, figuring he might get a little bit of entertainment out of it if Scott did, in fact, make a fool of himself.

Now, walking through the fog filled main hallway of the school which had been decked out in orange and black Halloween decorations, all by himself, he was regretting his decision.

After picking up Allison, her dad glaring daggers at him and Scott as though worried they were picking his daughter up for a threesome, they had driven over to the school. The outside of the building didn't look much different, a few fake cobwebs tossed over the shrubbery and windows and a large banner announcing the runtime of the haunted house.

At first, entering through the back entrance of the school, the haunted house had been just as boring and campy as Stiles had expected. Student and teacher volunteers randomly popped out of classrooms in cheap dollar store costumes to make people jump, the PA system playing spooky sound effect tracks full of thunder cracks and howling wolves.

He followed closely behind Scott and Allison, tapping his fingers against the spare inhaler he always carried with him just in case Scott had an asthma attack, hoping nothing scared him enough to trigger an episode. Because as they progressed through the school, it got darker, the scares more genuine, the decorations more gruesome.

The lights were completely shut off, plunging the hallways into complete and total darkness. It was deathly silent, the artificial sounds fading away as they walked further through the hall. Along the locker-lined walls, oddly real decorations adorned the hallway, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

Stiles had paused to investigate a smudge of disturbingly realistic blood on a locker when Scott and Allison apparently decided to ditch him. When he turned back around, they were both gone, leaving him all alone in the quiet, foggy hallway.

Cursing his friends for being such assholes, especially since he was their ride home, Stiles apprehensively continued on through the hallway. He didn't put it past Scott and Allison to try to scare him themselves, resigning himself to being the victim of some half-assed prank.

He just wanted to make it through the rest of the haunted house and go home, hoping to beat his dad to the leftover candy from the bowl they left on their porch for trick or treaters. But with his luck, his dad had already decimated the bowl and all he was doing was walking further and further away from the exit, stuck in the maze of hallways.

Sites was waiting for someone to jump out at him, glancing nervously at every door and alcove in the hall, chewing his lip. He was prepared for someone in a cheap mummy costume to pop out at him, someone dressed as Dracula or Frankenstein to scream boo!

He wasn't prepared for a werewolf.

It leapt out at him from around a corner, tucked out of sight until Stiles got closer, springing out from the shadows. A vicious growl bubbled up out of its throat as it swiped a clawed hand at him, narrowly avoiding slashing his throat.

Stiles shrieked in terror at the sight of flashing yellow eyes and fangs dripping with shiny spit, taking a few steps back in shock. Scared out of his mind, acting purely on instinct, Stiles did the only thing that he could think of and kicked the werewolf right between the legs.

The werewolf fell to its knees with a pained whimper, furry hands cupping its crotch. Furry hands which Stiles suddenly realized were gloves, fake black fur on plastic, the claws actually blunt white rubber.

Just like he realized that the werewolf's snarling face was merely a mask, albeit an extremely realistic one.

The bared teeth he had been worried would rip his throat out were nothing more than painted rubber fangs. The flashing eyes that had petrified him so much were just little yellow LED lights, the only source of light in the dim hallway.

Stiles could feel the blood drain out of his face as he abruptly realized that he had just kicked some poor person between the legs. He felt like he was going to throw up when, through grit teeth, the werewolf wheezed in a painfully familiar voice, "Jesus Christ, Stiles!"

Wincing, Stiles shook himself out of his stupor and rushed to the werewolf's side, dropping to his knees beside them. He reached over to yank off the hyper-realistic mask to confirm his worst fear ― he had just kicked his long time crush, Derek Hale, right in the nuts.

He had met Derek two years prior at the vet clinic while he had been waiting to pick Scott up after his shift. Derek had rushed into the reception area holding a small gray kitten in his hands, announcing he had found it on the side of the road and just wanted to make sure it was alright.

Stiles had been gone for him ever since.

"Oh my god, Derek!" Stiles gasped, tossing the grotesque mask over his shoulder, ignoring it as it thumped against the tiled floor. Laying a hand on Derek's shoulder, curling his fingers into the sleeve of Derek's shirt, he apologized, "I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you! Not that I would've wanted to kick someone else! You were wearing that mask, which kudos to you is like super realistic! Did your sister make it? Because I know she's really into art and SFX makeup and stuff, so―"

"Stiles," Derek snapped through grit teeth, immediately silencing Stiles' rant before it could stretch out into something longer and more convoluted. Stiles snapped his mouth closed with a click, miming zipping his lips and throwing the key away, well aware of how annoying his rambling could be.

Forehead furrowed while he clutched his poor balls through his jeans, Derek let out another whine of pain, the sound driving a knife through Stiles' heart. Tightening his grip on Derek's shirt, Stiles leaned closer and murmured, "I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, Stiles," Derek grit out, breathing deeply through his nose to help alleviate the pain, a muscle in his jaw twitching. As though trying to convince both himself and Stiles, Derek repeated himself, mumbling, "It's fine."

Squeezing Derek's arm with one hand, Stiles tentatively ran his fingers through Derek's hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. Smoothing out the furrow between Derek's brows, Stiles wondered aloud, "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Catching a glimpse of a shy smile stretching over Derek's face, Stiles smiled himself, glad to see that Derek wasn't too furious with him. Running his hand over Derek's arm, Stiles insisted, "I mean it. Anything."

"Well, there is one thing," Derek announced, tilting his head up to meet Stiles' eyes, thankfully looking much less pained. Stiles just nodded eagerly, prompting Derek to casually suggest, "You could kiss it better?"

Stiles froze. Had Derek really just suggested something so crass? Was he really implying that Stiles should kiss him down there?

He yanked his hands back, severing all physical contact between him and Derek, jumping to his feet. He took a few steps back, wide eyes darting between Derek's face and his crotch where his gloved hands were still cupping his abused junk.

Curling his hands into fists at his sides, Stiles narrowed his eyes, feeling his face flush in humiliation as he watched the smile fall from Derek's face. He was sorely tempted to give Derek another kick in the balls, instead simply snarling, "Excuse me?!"

Apparently realizing what he had just implied, Derek raised his palms, looking horrified by his own words. Shaking his head, he insisted, "No! No, no, no! That's not what I meant! I just-I just meant―"

"What?" Stiles pressed, taking a step closer to Derek. "What did you mean?"

Derek's eyes immediately shot down to the floor, faking sudden interest in the pattern of the tiles. A light flush coloring his cheeks, he reluctantly admitted, "Maybe like...a kiss on the cheek...?"

"Oh," Stiles said simply, at a loss for words. He hadn't been expecting that.

Deflating as every last trace of anger seeped out his body, Stiles bit his lower lip, thinking about his next move. Feeling his own cheeks fill with heat, he formulated a plan he hoped wouldn't backfire, cautiously kneeling back down beside Derek.

"Forget about it," Derek muttered quietly, turning his head to avoid meeting Stiles' eyes, shifting to sit on his butt on the cold tiled floor. Hugging his knees to his chest, tucking his face against his legs, he miserably claimed, "It was stupi―"

Stiles cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek with one hand to turn Derek's head back towards him, tugging him closer with a hand fisted in the front of his shirt as he pressed their lips together on pure impulse. Derek hesitated for a moment before responding, curling a gloved hand around the back of Stiles' neck to haul him closer.

Stiles sighed almost dreamily against Derek's lips, having never even dared to hope that his first kiss could be with his crush. He shuffled even closer to Derek, wrapping an arm around his shoulders just so he would know what it was like to hold Derek.

He hummed high in his throat when Derek teased his bottom lip with a hint of tongue, swiping it across the seam of his lips in a barely-there glide. Kissing Derek was something he could easily become addicted to.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss to get some air, Stiles licked his lips, eyes still closed as he willed his brain to come back online. He could feel Derek's warm breath on his lips as they both panted a bit, winded from the admittedly short kiss.

"Better?" Stiles whispered as he slowly opened his eyes, unable to keep from feeling rather proud of the more pronounced blush on Derek's high cheekbones. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the pink cheek, feeling the slight prickle of stubble against his skin.

"Mmm... Much," Derek answered with a devious little smirk curling his lips to the side, the sight somehow infatuating Stiles even more than he already was. He opened his eyes a moment later, looking up at Stiles with a kaleidoscope of colors glittering in his irises.

"Go out with me."

They both paused, looking at each other in awe and confusion, having both blurted out the same thing at exactly the same time.

Stiles broke first, ducking his head and laughing at their simultaneously request. Raising his head, he nodded and announced, "Okay. How about next Friday at seven? You can pick me up at my house in your leather jacket."

"Alright," Derek readily agreed, grinning widely before leaning in for another quick kiss. It was merely a peck on the lips, a fleeting bit of contact that nonetheless filled both their cheeks with heat.

"So," Stiles began, scratching his nails through the hairs at the back of Derek's neck. "How the hell do I get out of here?"