#jonathan uses those pronouns in that order

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Babygirl Steve x genderfluid Jonathan who both parent over the kids

[the-s1lly-corner]

hey hey! can you do the spot (pre or post collider you can choose) after he finds out reader is pregnant? Maybe how he would be during those early baby days? Thank you!!

General hcs for Jonathan w/ a pregnant!s/o

Decided to go with Jonathan for this one since I feel it'll be easier to squeeze out hcs!!

Obligatory reader is afab but as per admin's writing style, no pronouns are used !

Check the previous post for additional hcs, with spot/Jonathan being a dad!

Is absolutely ecstatic when you drop the news

I mean he was really about to drag you to the hospital when you suddenly started going off, getting sick

But hes relieved when he hears the news!

He accompanies to any doctor's appointment for updates, too!

You wont have to lift a finger for as long as your pregnart... and for the months following

You both discuss plans for the future; how long you intend to stay off work to recover, if you want to be a stay at home parent, evt evt evt, things like that

Either way theres some period where you need to drop work in order to prepare for the baby and let yourself heal from the labor

So he's picking up hours to keep the income.. coming

Things get

Hard

But that's life; you both make it work

Hes more likely to back down in any arguments that may happen; he doesnt wanna stress you out and he understands your hormones are out of whack

He will eventually touch the topic again when both parties are calm and ready to talk; especially if it's a genuine issue that can snowball or linger

Communication and compromise is important, yall

Anyways

Oh also he'll stop at nothing if you get a food craving, doesnt matter how obscure or hyper specific it is, hes getting it for you

Or making it, if you want something homemade

If he wasnt a malewife before he definitely is now

He definitely would cry when he holds his baby for the first time

And theres nothing wrong with that

Tldr; he becomes even more involved in your life (if that were even possible) and offers to pick up extra hours at work so you dont have to worry about.. work. Realistically things will get tense due to stress from both sides, both being valid; but you guys always talk and communicate

General dad hcs in the previous post as stated in the A/N!

[ronancebyler]

Platonic Jonbin headcanons?

oh my god being asked to talk about platonic jonbin??? them and platonic edancy are my favorite underrated platonic dynamics so I will use any opportunity to not shut up about them.

heads up! there will be possible rojancy (without romantic jonbin obviously) and possible stonathan and also possible platonic soulmatism stobin because those are things I cannot get out of my skin.

also! these are all in random order and don't have to exist in the same universe as each other or canon. really this is mostly just me cherry picking what parts of canon I like then saying fuck it and going by vibes!

jonathan and robin are both nonbinary but robin is a she/he sort of nonbinary and jonathan is a they/them sort of nonbinary (this will be the pronouns I'll be using throughout this) (if you see me use different pronoun hcs in different posts shut your mouth)

they have matching music tastes. no, not the same music taste, MATCHING music tastes. like it feels like the songs would get along or would be in playlists of two best friend characters. they're also both incredibly passionate about music so they love saying that each other are the "only music tastes I respect even though I don't listen to all of them" like they're such snobs together (robin is joking, jonathan is not)

they do dress like they came from the same cartoon. it's less that they look similar and more like they have a general vibe to them that when put together feels eerily like the same artist drew them

jonathan finds eddie hot and robin is so personally offended by that because eddie is the person he loves making fun of because it's her personal bully victim (affectionate)

"FIRST STEVIE AND NOW EDDIE????" "I'M SORRY I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED"

robin and jonathan have opposite tastes in crushes. the singular place it aligns is with nancy wheeler

robin has a thing for people who kind of intimidate her and are incredibly driven/passionate people with a soft side

jonathan has a thing for soft people who love animals and are really kind but with a scary side

"how is she literally perfect????" "i don't even know"

there is something so funny to me about jonathan having a heavy preference for men in their sexuality

"that guy is hot" "he literally looks like he's been dipped in a dumpster what the fuck is wrong with you"

the pattern you're seeing in these headcanons is that they're not similar as much as they are complimentary

robin does jonathans hair. they didn't ask for it, he just showed up to their house with hair products and went "sit down. no you don't have a choice."

this isn't necessarily because she's good at doing hair and more because jonathan's hair texture is just so nice but eventually he gets really good at it

steals each other clothes but will not use it in the same way. jonathan's overwear???? no, that's robin's lasso. robin's shirt???? no, that's jonathan's journal decoration

stonathan with platonic jonbin is so fucking funny and i don't know why more people don't consider this

"MY BEST FRIEND IS FUCKING MY PLATONIC SOULMATE????? oh my god i let them meet is this nepotism" "robin what the fuck" "nonono let her speak"

also platonic soulmates stobin being so welcoming of jonathan my beloved <33

"you stole my best friend and my ex???" "are you actually mad" "no that's funny as fuck you should come for girls nights"

which while we're on that tangent yes jonathan is invited for girls nights yes they are the most girl there no they are not a girl you just don't understand their gender is a candy wrapper at the bottom of a garbage can okay

"I'm infiltrating the secret meetings of all genders." "yes, jonathan, sit down, let me do your nails while robin talks about girls"

jonathan is literally the best person to come to for any crush because while steve will get excited with robin and support his delulu urges jonathan will be dead serious when they say "no she likes you back you dumbass"

when they get flustered from nancy flirting with them they react the exact same, which is they freeze and slowly turn redder

the difference is jonathan goes silent while robin starts talking more to attempt to distract nancy (it doesn't work)

when they panic at the same time their brains temporarily connect so they can yell "oh god fuck oh my god what do we say fuck she's so pretty I'm too gay for this" in each others brains

robin loves her label as being a lesbian very much and he's very connected to it while jonathan could not care less to label their sexuality

"mmm I'm such a lesbian womennnnnn" "have fun with that but also fold your fucking clothes"

they both get each other out of awkward social situations when their token 'knows how to talk to people' buddy isn't there

they also tend to stick to each other when steve is out being sociable in public spaces

as much as i love the idea of steve being robin's beard, i like jonathan as his beard more

people are more intimidated by jonathan for whatever reason so they're less likely to bug them about their relationship

if you're going down the rojancy route, they're dating the same girl so they hang out a lot together anyways so it's a good cover

and if you're going down the stonathan route steve is literally always with robin they can find time to sneak in kisses

"arent you jealous your gf is always with that Harrington kid??" "I'm not even slightly worried i trust her"

robin gets really attached to will and basically becomes will's third sibling

she's also really attached to el so she's ready to bat for the byers family any day of the week

jonathan is the older sister, robin is the older brother, i dont make the rules

(i mean i literally do in this scenario but like the worms in my brain insist)

robin jumps on top of jonathan instead of "hugging"

"hugging is weak we will be commencing a five-step attack plan" "robin."

i now realize how long ive been talking I'll stfu

[cxdemistake]

—Time slips away!

Burn out, don’t fade!

Dance on my grave!

I will never be them!—

Indie multimuse, multifandom blog.

Canon and OC muses present

Currently mobile-only

Semi-selective, semi-active

Open to asks and messages

More info (link to OCs, list of canon muses, writer info, and rules) under the cut.

OC Links

*Note: A few characters’ appearances/voices have changed, so make sure to check out the tags on the blog. OCs are tagged with “; (name)”— for example, my character Myarel is tagged with “; myarel” (no quotations).*

Canon Muses

*Note: Many of these muses aren’t listed on my muse page due to being unable to update said page from my phone. Muse tags vary. Some are tagged with fancy tags but I may switch between those and regular tags. They’re listed here in alphabetical order by fandom.*

**Edit: I’ve also marked which fandoms/muses are most active. Very active fandoms will be bolded, semi-active italic, and dormant/needing some time before interaction are regular text. I’ll also put an asterisk after new muses/muses I haven’t played yet. I beg that if a fandom isn’t bolded or italicized that you discuss it with me before sending something in or making a starter— I have a lot of muses and it takes time to get into the swing of new ones when I’m not in the right mindset!**

The Arcana: Asra Alnazar*, Julian Devorak, Portia Devorak*, Faust

American Gods: Mad Sweeney

Assassin’s Creed: Ezio Auditore da Firenze*, Aveline de Grandpré

Avatar: The Last Airbender: Zuko*

Back 4 Blood: Karlee*, Evangelo*

Baldur’s Gate 3: Astarion*

Boondock Saints: Murphy MacManus*

Call of Duty: Simon “Ghost” Riley*, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish*

Chappie: Chappie*

Columbo: Lt. Frank Columbo*

Dead Island/Riptide: Sam B, John Morgan*

Detroit: Become Human: Connor, Markus*

Dirty Bomb: Vassili*

Disturbed (band): The Guy*

Dream Daddy: Damien Bloodmarch*, Robert Small*

Dying Light: Kyle Crane*, Rahim*, Karim*

FNAF: Cupcake

Hazbin Hotel: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer

Homestuck: Gamzee, Calsprite

I, Frankenstein: Adam

Into the Badlands: Baron Quinn*

Jet Set Radio Future: Yoyo*

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Jonathan Joestar*, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo*, Josuke Higashikata*, Giorno Giovanna*, Jolyne Cujoh*, Caesar Zeppeli

Kingdom Hearts: Axel

Left 4 Dead 2: Ellis, Nick

Marvel: Nightcrawler*, Moon Knight*, Eddie Brock/Venom*

Monster High: River Styxx*, Operetta*, Frankie Stein*

The Nightmare Before Christmas: Jack Skellington*

Obey Me!: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Diavolo

Onmyoji: Yasha*, Hiromasa*, Susabi*

Pirates of the Caribbean: Captain Jack Sparrow*

Portal: GLaDOS

Red Dead Redemption: John Marston*, Arthur Morgan*

Rise of the Guardians: Jack Frost*

Skullgirls: Valentine

Stardew Valley: Shane*

Steven Universe: Garnet*, Ruby*, Sapphire*, Sunstone*, Sardonyx*, Rainbow Quartz 2.0*

Spiritfarer: Gwen*

Suicide Squad: Diablo

Undertale/Deltarune: Papyrus, Sans, Susie*

Until Dawn: Chris*

The Village: Ivy Walker

Walking Dead/Fear: Negan Smith, Daryl Dixon, Morgan Jones, Shiva, Victor Strand*, Qaletaqa Walker*, Crazy Dog*

Warframe: Excalibur Umbra*

Warm Bodies: R, M

What We Do In The Shadows: Nandor the Relentless*, Viago*, Vladislav*

Info About The Writer

Hi! I’m Alistair— you can call me that, or you can use my username for pretty much everywhere else, TheetyPie/Theety. I don’t mind either way.

I’m a trans guy, I use he/they pronouns. I’m panromantic/asexual, and I’m 27 years old.

I have 3 cats, they’re my babies. I also (as you can tell from above) have a lot of OCs, and the number is still growing. I want to turn my ideas into a bigger creation someday, still not sure exactly where I want to go with it.

I do more than write. I do art, I like video games, music, and just collecting stuff. Current obsessions are Monster High, Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, makeup, crystals, and jewelry.

Rules

The most important: I do not RP smut. In the past I’ve used the fade-to-black method, but I’m not entirely comfortable with that with most of my muses.

In the same vein, DO NOT FORCE SHIPS. I love ships as much as the next guy, but I would prefer to discuss it first, or for us to agree on it. It’s cool if your muse has a crush, totally fine— mine get crushes all the time! But make sure if you want to ship, we discuss it first.

In a similar vein to that one as well, no god-modding/powerplaying. If your character is strong, an immortal being, or whatever, cool! I have some of those too. But there should always be a limit. Don’t say your character is moving mine unless we’ve talked about that. Attempt to move them. Usually I follow along as long as boundaries aren’t pushed.

Don’t kill or seriously injure my muse without permission. Fights happen, of course, but again: discussion. I’m up for threads where my canon muses are injured or killed, but not where it happens to my OCs, unless we’re getting into a backstory and another OC that’s already deceased dies. Non-serious injuries are alright to come out of nowhere with, but if it’s a first meeting, I’d prefer to plot it out.

I’m semi-selective. I’m kind of particular about who I follow and who I thread with. I prefer us to be mutuals to thread, but you don’t have to be mutuals to send me things.

I’m very bad at keeping up with people. If you message me and I don’t respond, it’s usually bc I’m shy, I forgot, or I’m busy with work. It’s not you, I promise. Usually I don’t message first bc I’m nervous.

Back to shipping: I’m also multiship. Usually my ships are in different universes, unless discussed with all parties beforehand. The exception is a few of my OCs that are partnered together— ask about their availability. I love random ships, just talk to me about them!

I love duplicates of my muses. Whether it’s “x meets self” or I find someone I share a muse with, I love RPing with just about everyone. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if we have a muse in common!

One of my other most important statements, not really considered a rule, but it’s still important: if you want to know something about any muse, canon or OC, please tell me— ask or message me! I haven’t been able to write down a lot of info about any of them because I’m on mobile, but I will infodump for you if you need/want to know something. I love talking about my children, they’re precious to me.

If you send something in or make something for me when we haven’t even spoken, I might not feel comfortable responding. I’m very shy and nervous about not having any discussion beforehand. 😭

If there’s anything I left out or you need to know, just ask!

[flightlessapollo]

Trans JoJo's JJBA HCs

So turns out I will be doing those posts about the JoJo's and their genderqueer identities. Suppose I'll be going in order here, enjoy <3

(This is a long one so it's going under the cut)

Jonathan Joestar- I feel like Jonathan isn't trans, but if he knew his descendants were trans (after it was explained to him cuz he was around in the 1880s), he would be incredibly supportive. If anyone is trans in part 1 I feel like it would be Speedwagon, maybe I'll go into gender hcs for the Jobros/villains at a later date. Regardless, Jonathan is cis and a sweetie.

George (Jorge? idk) Joestar II- Honestly I can't really speak on this one, I haven't read his spinoff and I know nothing about him. If I had to guess I would say he's most likely cis but I really don't know.

Joseph Joestar- Now we get into the gender-diverse side of this bloodline. I feel like Joseph is AMAB but has a slight bit of a transfem nonbinary identity. Like he doesn't feel fully like a man but he also doesn't align fully with "woman" either and so he's kind of an in-between and he's very comfortable with that. Like she's a he/she type of person and feels very comfortable being gnc in all ways. Joseph really just plays around with gender and doesn't care what you call that, he's just living his life to its fullest.

Holy Kujo- Another cis Joestar who I feel would be incredibly supportive. She knows her parent is nonbinary and has a fluid identity so when her son came out she gave him a huge hug and told him she would love and support him in being his authentic self. She's also very supportive of her granddaughter of course and after working through the complicated feelings around learning she has a brother, she's supportive of Josuke as well. An ally through and through.

Jotaro Kujo- Jotaro is a binary trans man and he's quite happy with that. Though he does enjoy skirts and heels, he strictly wears those privately. He realized he was a boy very young and came out young as well. Though of course, he won't admit it he's a bookworm and found out what being transgender (a different term was used when he was growing up in the 80s but I don't feel comfortable using it) was when he was young and realized it aligned with his experience of himself. His coming out was a very easy process, his mom being so supportive. It was made even easier because he came out during the period of his life when he and his mother had a very good relationship. A he/him guy, he bound until he was 18, at the age of 18 he was able to get on hrt and get top surgery through the Speedwagon Foundation; he never pursued bottom surgery. His wife was a trans woman and he was the one who gave birth to Jolyne.

Josuke Higashikata(4)- Josuke is another binary trans man, though he feels more connected to his femininity than his nephew gender-wise. I think it's obvious they're quite gnc and they feel very comfortable playing with gender much in the same way their parent does/did. He realized his gender identity a bit older than his nephew, in his early teens. Josuke is okay with he/they pronouns and often expresses his gender in a very gnc way. He wasn't a huge fan of binding so he very often didn't do it, though he did deal with top dysphoria. They were fortunate after meeting the other side of their family and were able to get hormones at 16 and top surgery at 18. He waited until he was a good few years older to pursue any kind of bottom surgery, and got meta in his late 20s.

Giorno Giovanna- Another AMAB Joestar. They were gender nonconforming from a young age and as a teen they came out as nonbinary to their very close friends, though his identity didn't have much relevance to his work as the head of Passione. Nothing really hugely changed for her and she didn't do any medical transition. Socially, again he kept his gender to his close friends but used it to his advantage to ensure his safety. Often any pronouns were used for them in situations where revealing any info on the boss would put her in danger. Giorno is okay with any pronouns and their friends tend to default to they/them, which they don't mind. They continued to play with gender expression as they got older, enjoying the joy it brought them to toy with expression and gender roles.

Jolyne Kujo(Cujoh?)- Jolyne is a trans woman who knew about her identity and was firm about it from a very young age. As a child she expressed that she was a girl and her parents, both being trans themselves, we're supportive of that identity. She grew up as any typical girl would, her parents helping her change her legal documents and get her on puberty blockers before AMAB puberty began for her. She started hrt at 15 and didn't pursue any surgeries for transition but did get some professional voice training for a few years to help warm her voice and mature it. Jolyne gives she/her as an answer when asked her pronouns but doesn't mind if people (especially close friends) use they/them. She has a large interest in fashion and while not entirely gnc, she has always enjoyed finding her own unique style of what gender means to her.

Jonathan "Johnny" Joestar- This one is tough and still one I'm kind of thinking through (I plan to reread SBR so I think my opinion with crystalize when I do that) what exactly I think. He could just be cis, or he couldn't and I really don't know that i have a strong feeling either way? I get a trans sort of vibe from him but unlike all other Joestars who give me that vibe I can't pin down why. If he is trans he definitely binds but wouldn't have access to any other type of transitional care obviously due to the time period he lived in.

Josuke Higashikata (8)- Well his situation is confusing isn't it? I suppose the thing to do here is look at Josefumi and Yoshikage? Or perhaps not because Josuke is his own person (wasn't that like an important piece of his story? Forgive me folks I didn't understand all of Jojolion and haven't really touched it since it finished so-) so, perhaps Josefumi or Yoshikage were trans, but I don't think we get enough time with them to be sure. And based on Josuke alone i feel he isn't trans. Ofc in the manga we know he has AMAB anatomy but even disregarding that i just do not really feel a trans pull from him. He's certainly an ally though. Especially since I do feel Yasuho is trans and since I ship her and Josuke, she definitely wouldn't be dating a transphobe.

And yeah! There's that. Really really long and shit. Um. If you read all the way to this point ily man cuz this was just a bunch of silly nonsense that just lives in my brain. Hope at least some part of it interested you.

Final note: These are all just headcanons of mine, don't take them too seriously.

[leaguepremsinfo]

full name  —  jonathan apoloniusz mazur age  —  twenty - eight. october seventh, 1995 gender/pronouns  —  cis male, he/him orientation  —  bisexual, closeted publicly  birthplace  —  hampstead, london residence  —  south kensington, london languages spoken  —  polish, english height  —  200.66 cm / 6’7” weight  —  82 kg  /  181 lbs hair color  —  brunette eye color  —  blue

Be more like your dad! His mother had always squawked at Jonny, her Polish accent more thick with pride when talking about Filip Mazur. He and Bethany came to London as eighteen year olds with big dreams, having met back in Poland. They got engaged, married and had kids quickly, raising them to speak both English and Polish, to respect where they came from; heritage was important.

His father had, at one point, been the absolute best of the best on the pitch. A legend. He was loved by the team he played for (an Arsenal man through and through), loved by the nation (when he made his first appearance for Queen and country, Old Wembley’s stands shook) and loved by the pundits. He had records young footballers could only dream of, but it didn’t make him untouchable. 

In 2017, he did retire, at an eye watering age of forty two – something utterly unheard of in that world. He left with a wealth of accolades for Arsenal under his belt, a whole load of records - including oldest goal scorer in the Premier League. 

Jon, the Mazurs’ first born, had worked through Chelsea Academy as a kid - he didn't get to have a Bar Mitzvah because of his incredibly busy schedule, though he put his all into his sisters’ so that he could be a big part of it - and stayed with the Blues all the way through to seniors, making his debut in 2012, after Chelsea won the Champions League the year before. He was a Chelsea lad to his very core, playing (eventually) alongside Roy. Fucking. Kent. A man he should objectively hate given that he’d once tried to absolutely KO his dad in a match, but hey - what wouldn’t anyone give to kick a ball around under that man’s captaincy. He helped shape Jon into the player he is today and he’ll be grateful for it for as long as he’s able to play and beyond.

Of course WHU wanted him; he was in high demand; not only was he the second-tallest player in the Prem which made him a beast to go up against but he was known as an incredibly flexible player who had the ability to move from defence positions to the midfield right up to being in front, playing the 9. He had a kick like his dad, though in truth they were not that similar. That Mazur, though outspoken and bold off the grass, was patient and calm on the pitch, sharing his whippet speed and skill with his son. This Mazur had a relatively short temper and wasn’t afraid to use his elbows.. Though, this is something Jon has worked on over time, instead becoming known for his level headedness and dedication to the sport. He doesn’t fight referees, he doesn’t pick fights with the little shits on lower table teams, he’s an artist on the pitch. 

In 2015, aged twenty, Jon made his debut for the Three Lions, the England team, legacy number 1207.

Now he’s as beloved by West Ham fans as his father was (is) by Arsenal’s. He was named their captain in July of 2017, the same year his father stepped away from the game. It’s a role he takes seriously, trying to pave the way for the younger Hammers, showing them how to act and how to better themselves just as Roy Kent had done for him those years ago. 

On Nov 15th 2018, Jon was given the captain’s band for England for a game against USA, something his own father had never quite managed. He had wanted to step out of Fil’s shadow and this was just another challenge to take up in order to prove himself even more… to who, he wasn’t entirely sure. 

He captained the England team through the 2016 Euros, the 2020 Euros and the 2022 World Cup, he’s got 221 goals for West Ham under his belt, 62 for England and in 2023 he led West Ham to victory, winning the Europa Conference League in Prague.

The man is a true testament to himself and his game. It was no shock to the people that really knew him to find out that he was nominated for the Ballon d’Or, let alone when he won the thing (he, though, was sitting with his jaw agape before being roused from his seat). The biggest surprise of all was the moment his father walked out on stage to hand him the trophy - some people slammed the move from the older Mazur man, but it was perhaps the most touching moment of young Mazur’s life so far.

[digitalspaceinvader]

How Does This Extend to Digital Space?

During my research I have also come to notice the increasing importance of queer “cyberspace” in identity formation, and its ability to provide the previously noted effects of queer space, although with advantages unique to its digital position.

For example, the internet allows for queer experience even without the need for other queer people, evident in video games like The Sims. There seems to be an almost universal queer experience of utilizing the series of games to create queer relationships between the characters you control. This means that queer people can digitally construct queer space entirely on their own. Video games also offer opportunities to experiment with gender through the use of avatars, enabling a digital construction of self not limited to the gender category assigned to your physical body.

Social media sites in particular also offer a testing ground for queer identities, especially ones in development. When creating a social media profile, everything you disclose is done deliberately, allowing complete control over how you present yourself. The use of private accounts aids in this as well, as it allows control over exactly who can see or access your account. These attributes are actively being taken advantage of by way of “finsta” accounts, a popular practice of creating a secondary social media account (usually on Instagram) with access usually limited to close friends in order to maintain privacy and freedom from judgement. In many cases, a queer person might be open about their identity on a “finsta” and closeted on a main account. The increasing attachment of pronouns to social media accounts also allows for a more concrete assertion of identity, and the reduction of gendering. Gendering is the practice of compulsively determining the genders of others, usually based entirely on secondary sex characteristics (Serano 163). However, through the elimination of face-to-face interaction online, pronouns are given more weight due to their prominent status, sometimes being the only gendered “evidence” to go off of. In the words of Cooper and Dzara:

“As we create our identities online, constructing ourselves as we wish others to perceive us, we clarify to ourselves who we are and what matters most to us. We ask ourselves the questions: Who do I want to be? How do I want others to see me? We create and transmit these images to others, as we interact with those which they have designed as well. (109-10)”

The internet has made queer spaces more accessible than ever, especially important to those questioning their identities and those in rural areas. This is stressed in the work of Jonathan Alexander and Elizabeth Losh, asserting the internet as a “vital venue for connecting with others and for establishing a sense of identity and community” (39). This is exemplified in the coming out video published on YouTube by user “apples33ds”, as they credit similar videos to be important to framing their own narrative. The coming out process is universal to queer people, and the innumerable presence of coming out “content” creates a unique opportunity for affirmation, commonality, and community never before possible (Alexander 40).

The scope of this ability to establish queer identity lies far beyond just YouTube, however. One of the first sites that comes to my mind is Reddit, which has a similarly innumerable quantity of subreddits (or communities) specifically for queer people/issues. Upon my own search of the term “nonbinary”, results came up for many communities such as r/NonBinary, r/nonbinarymemes, r/NonBinaryTalk, r/Nonbinaryteens, and r/nonbinarytransition. These types of varied communities exist for all types of queer identities, and offer multiple points of contact to users searching for more information.

Online fan communities offer queer involvement as well, such as the case of Xenasubtexttalk, a community dedicated to queer readings of the TV show Xena: Warrior Princess. In a study conducted by Rosalind Hanmer, it was found that this online community became a space for users “to reshape, rethink, and rewrite their own changing and challenging sexual and cultural identities” (150). The study contains multiple interviews of participants that identified as straight upon discovering the community, became participants, and then recognized a shift from only observing queer interactions to wanting or actually having them (154). This observation to participation pipeline is one I would particularly like to focus on. In real life it would be strange to sit in the corner of a queer space and simply observe interactions, but online it’s nothing! The increasing visibility of queerness online means it happens all the time!

With queer youth coming out younger than ever (Age of Outness), I would argue that the increasing availability and prevalence of queer cyberspace contributes to this immediacy in which queer youth find orientation in their identity. This is especially evident given our society’s increasing dependence on and usage of the internet (Internet Statistics), along with the more commonplace visibility of queerness in general.

[perpetual-stories]

A Complete Guide To Different Points of Views

happy Friday everyone! Is doing well, I know I’m trying to do better a bit every day.

it’s hard but I think I am doing better...

What Is Narrative Point of View?

Point of view is the “eye” or narrative voice through which you tell a story

you must decide who is telling the story, and to whom they are telling it

Three Types of Point of View

There are three primary types of point of view:

First person point of view. In first person point of view, one of the characters is narrating the story. This is generally revealed by the “I” sentence construction and relies on first person pronouns. (“I went to work.”) The reader assumes that this character is closely related to the story’s action—either a main character or someone close to the protagonist. First person narrative can provide intimacy and a deeper look into a character’s mind, but it is also limited by the perceptive abilities of the character. They are confined to report only what they would realistically know about the story, and they are further confined by their own perspective. Nick Carraway of The Great Gatsby (1925) by F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ishmael of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick (1851) are two of the most well-known first person narrators in literature and great examples of this point of view

Second person point of view. Second person point of view is structured around the “you” pronoun, and is less common in novel-length work. (“You thought you could do it.”) Second person can allow you to draw your reader into the story and make them feel like they’re part of the action because the narrator is speaking directly to them. Writing in second person for any great length is a challenge, and will stretch your writing skills. Lorrie Moore is well-known for her innovative use of second person narration in her short story collection Self-Help (1985). Second person point of view is sometimes referred to as second person POV.

Third person point of view. The author is narrating a story about the characters and refers to them with the third person pronouns “he/she.” (“He was hungry.”) This point of view is subdivided into third person omniscient and third person limited. Third person point of view is sometimes referred to as third person POV.

What Is the Difference Between Third Person Omniscient and Third Person Limited?

omniscient narrator knows everything about the story and its characters

This third person narrator can enter anyone’s mind, move freely through time, and give the reader their own opinions and observations as well as those of the characters

think of the omniscient narrator as having a god’s-eye-view of the characters. (“He had been infected with the virus, but he didn’t know it yet.”)

third person limited point of view (often called a “close third”) is when an author sticks closely to one character but remains in third person

This style gives you the ability to be inside a character’s thoughts, feelings, and sensations, which can give readers a deeper experience of character and scene. (“As she watched him leave, she was afraid he’d never come back.”)

How to Choose the Right Point of View in 4 Easy Steps

Try different points of view. The only way to decide the best point of view strategy for your novel is to try different ones. Likely, you’ll know the right one for your story because the writing will begin to move more quickly, and you’ll feel momentum. First person allows you to create intimacy by granting the reader access to your character’s internal monologue. Second person is often made as a stylistic choice; it is a powerful yet potentially overwhelming narrative device that can evoke feelings of confusion or claustrophobia. Third person narrative is a more flexible choice than first or second person. It allows you to switch between characters’ points of view. You can even zoom in and out from complete omniscience to limited or “close” third point of view.

Once you pick a point of view, establish it right away. Whichever narration style you use, it’s important to establish your point of view quickly. Always let the reader know which character’s perspective you’re following in any given scene. If you’re using third person, you should use the character’s name early in the section. Even a simple statement like “Robert felt tired” is enough to convey this information. While you’re in a point of view, stick to it. For example, if you’re narrating from your hero character’s perspective and, in the middle of a scene, you suddenly switch to the point of view of a different character, the disruption will jar your reader out of the story.

Be aware of limitations. Point of view is an essential tool in character development. You’re describing the world through their eyes and letting the reader know what they think and feel. You’ll need to be aware at all times what your characters’ limitations are. Review your writing frequently to scan for mistakes you might have made in giving a character information or opinions they wouldn’t normally have.

Change it up. You don’t have to be tied to one point of view throughout your novel; some novels move from first to third or first to second. But it’s important to note that when you establish point of view, you are creating another type of contract with the reader: that you will adhere to that point of view for the course of the scene. It’s all right to have different subplots told from different points of view throughout your novel, but you should treat each point of view as an individual section or chapter.

Four Ways to Use Point of View

Create suspense. When a reader knows more than the character, as in Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897), and your reader waits for the character to learn what they already know. This tension will keep your reader on the edge of their seat.

Create an unreliable narrator. When a first person narrator knows more than the reader but withholds information from the reader on purpose, in order to manipulate them. Gone Girl (2012) by Gillian Flynn and Rebecca (1938) by Daphne du Maurier are brilliant examples of unreliable narrators.

Create comedic irony. When a first person narrator knows so much less than both the reader and the other characters that it creates comedy. In this strategy, the reader is laughing at the narrator, rather than with him or her. Examples include Gulliver in Gulliver’s Travels (1726) by Jonathan Swift, in which a plain-spoken narrator tells whoppers with a straight face, and A Confederacy of Dunces (1980) by John Kennedy Toole, in which the narrator complains about the ineptitude of other characters, when he is clearly the most inept character of all. An omniscient narrator can also satirize all a story’s characters, as Voltaire does in Candide (1759).

Create tragic irony. The characters know less than the reader. Narrative irony also involves foreshadowing, when the omniscient narrator leaves hints for the reader about something that will happen in the future. When a tragic event has been foreshadowed, but the characters don’t see it coming, a sense of irony is created. You can also create tragic irony in first person point of view, but you have to walk the fine line of having your narrator foreshadow while remaining truly ignorant of what’s going to happen.

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[a-system-of-nerds]

Okay, so, it’s Easter and so this seems thematically appropriate and this has been on our mind for a while but more so because of the holiday. No, we haven’t finished Dracula yet, but again, this has been on our mind for a while.

It’s just a long rant and going to be very messy and not really have a ton of order to it. It’s also all based on our experiences and thoughts and we just need to get this out. We may end up reblogging it after we finish Dracula or as we think on this more. *Shrugs.*

So, Jonathan probably has this deep complicated relationship with Christianity. Like, yes, they’ve (Jonathan uses they/them and will be referred to with those pronouns) seen all of these Christian symbols work to repel evil and Dracula and all that, but they’ve probably also felt deeply betrayed by God. Like, we see as they’re trapped in the castle that they figure out how the crucifix works for protection and that they’re hoping to God that they’ll get out, most likely praying, too. God doesn’t rescue them, though. Jonathan has to take a ton of risks on their own and probably feels incredibly alone and lost and betrayed. Of course, this is a minefield in and of itself, as there’s the idea that “God helps those who help themselves” or “you have to take the first step, then God will help you,” which will twist Jonathan’s thinking and make it harder for them to understand what they are feeling. On top of this, they’ve seen Christian symbols work to repel the scary and evil, and, later, Van Helsing describes this in detail, and in Jonathan’s mind, Van Helsing is an expert, right? And, furthermore, at the time, this sort of thing wasn’t talked or spoken about; there was no discussion of the incorrectness or potential incorrectness in Christianity. Sure, there were different denominations, but widely, everyone was Christian. And, there was no discussion of trauma, especially of men experiencing trauma, and especially not of any sort of religious trauma. They would have felt so alone and felt so confused because of all these reasons telling them they’re wrong. “What is right? What do I feel? Am I wrong? Am I just being weak?” They would have no idea what to believe and probably felt so sick and confused and hurt.

TL;DR, Jonathan Harker probably has a complicated relationship with Christianity and God, and we want to see this addressed, written about, etc.

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Steve: What pronouns do you use?

Jonathan: What? Why?

Steve: I'm talking shit about you to Eddie and I'm just trying to be respectful

Jonathan: he/they/she :)

Jonathan: Tell Eddie I say hi

[cedric-stories]

A Royal New Year Party

Word Count: Around 2,400

Plot: After getting done planning a New Year’s Eve party, Cedric meets a man that makes the sorcerer question his relationship with you.

Warnings: Angst and language

Author’s Note: This just came to me cause people used to be such jerks to my ex about us being a couple. So, kinda personal and kinda just I adore Cedric and want my baby to know he’s loved.

Author’s Note note: Okay, so I had another fic like this but I’m finally gonna address it; the world is set in our time so there are cell phones and stuff. I know I changed it from the show, but it was just easier for me. Also, this is gonna be the last fic for a few days. tbh, I haven’t even started the next ones, but I do have outlines. Hope you enjoy and happy New Year!!!

Reader pronouns: she/her

                                       A Royal New Year Party

Here it is, the greatest party of every year. The royal family’s enchanted New Year’s Eve party was only a few hours away.

           “Cedric, could you please conjure another bouquet of roses?”

“Cedric, can you please just conjure one more turkey? The chef ran out of bird, so he is begging you to make one; but please don’t tell the King!”

           “Cedric, can you put the floating plates over here?”

“Cedric, can you conjure a few more chairs?”

           “Cedric, where is god’s name is that turkey!?”

           Yes, these were the sounds the poor sorcerer had been listening to all day. Everyone and their chef have been pestering him. He was in the middle of all the bustling and rustling. Things at been nonstop for hours and he was getting sick of it. The past day, he had been conjuring plates, chairs, ovens, instruments, and everything in between to make this party amazing. King Roland expected the very best to wow his guests, so he wanted Cedric not only to create dozens of items, but to enchant everything.

The King wanted enchanted chairs that could sway with the music, enchanted instruments that could play on their own to give the orchestra a break, and enchanted silverware that could dazzle the guests with dancing and singing. It was quite complicated to cast spell after spell (especially enchanted ones) and it was beginning to tire the man.

           Cedric was finishing up one more spell when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Well done, Cedric!” The king boomed from behind the sorcerer, scaring him out of his wits.  

           “Thank you, your majesty. I am honored.” He said, turning and bowing his head.  

“You’re very welcome, things are coming along nicely. Now, since you’ve been working all day, have you given any thought to what you have planned tonight?”

           Cedric lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.

“No, I haven’t really thought of anything.”

           “Well then,” Roland paused, gesturing to all the gold and black decorations, “why don’t the two of you celebrate the new year with us? I’m sure y/n would love it.”  

“I-we would love to and I greatly appreciate the offer,” Cedric started, “but I think we are going to celebrate the new year just the two of us.”

           Roland gave Cedric a disappointed look.

“Alright, if you insist. We will all miss you and y/n. If you change your mind, you guys are welcome.”

           “Thank you, your highness.” He said, beginning to walk out of the ballroom through majestic, golden doors.

Cedric trudged through the halls of the castle. He came across the coffee shop on the corner of the ballroom and royal dining hall and scurried into line to get a cup.

           Workers of all types stood back to front. One man wearing a blue vest, top hat, and holding a scepter in his hands was in front of cedric.

           “Hello, sir. The name’s Jonathan” The man greeted the sorcerer. His eyes seemed warm and inviting enough to talk to.

“Oh, hello.” Cedric answered, barely shaking his head to try, and come to consciousness.

           “What do you do around here, fine man?”

“I’m the royal sorcerer for Enchantcia. You may know me by Cedric the Sensational?”

The man looked perplexed for a minute, then, as if realization came down from the gods, Jonathan’s face turned up and Cedric could see the lightbulb come on.

           “Oh yes! You are the one who tried taking over the kingdom a few years back!”

Cedric cringed.

           “Yes, I am.” He said, trying hard not to recall those memories but nevertheless, remembered them vividly.

           “My, I was sure good old Kind Roland would have you executed for that!”

“Oh yes, didn’t we all?” Cedric rolled his eyes.

           “And the way the towns folk talked about you, it musta been hard to show you face around them parts for a while, eh?”

“Eh.” Cedric sarcastically parroted back.

           “Why, never in my wildest dreams would old Winnie and Goodwin’s kiddy ever try a stunt like that.”                        

“Yes, quite,” Cedric paused, narrowing his eyes at the man, “foolish of me.”

“You know, your father saved old’ king Roland’s daddy from a few monsters like yourself!”

           “yes, yes, I know. Oh look, you’re at the counter, time to order now.” Cedric rushed.

“Oh, look at that. Hi, ma’am, I’ll have a…”

           Once the man had finished ordering, cedric got up to the counter and ordered a cold caramel frappe. After, he went to sit down and wait. The bustling of people became a background noise and Cedric finally got some peace. While he sat and tried to unwind-

           “There you are good buddy!” The same talkative man said, jostling over to Cedric.

“Here I am.”

           After a long talk about Cedric’s wrongs, the man began to inquire about Cedric’s personal life.

           “So, I doubt after your long, ungrateful journey back to civilized living hadn’t brought you company of any kind?”

           Cedric believed the man meant a significant other but wasn’t really sure.

           “Pardon?”

“A woman! Have you gotten yourself a woman?!”

           Cedric gave the man a blank stare and leaned away from his sudden enthusiasm. Why in god’s name does this man want to know so much about him? He thought about telling him or not. If I do, he’s going to go on how I don’t deserve someone, or not believe me entirely. And why does he just presume I have a woman? Has the man never heard of two men living happily together? Why does this man care so much about my life?

           “I do have a significant other.” Cedric finally let out.

“Well for heavens sakes, how the hell did you get one?”

           “Well, we met over a year ago and- “

“No one in her right mind would want you. You’re so unstable compared to others your age. Eh, she’s probably just waiting’ on someone better anyways.”

           Cedric was now completely offended and didn’t really know how to answer. Without saying another word, he rose to get his coffee from the counter and left.

On his walk home, Cedric began thinking.

I have been with Y/N for almost a year. I don’t deserve her. Does she even want to be with me? Maybe I’ve just fooled myself into thinking she really loves me when all this time she’s only stayed around cause there’s no one else. Maybe he’s right, maybe it was just weird I found her. She probably is just waiting for someone better to come along and leave…I’ve done so much wrong, maybe she doesn’t even want me?

           After his long debate, Cedric headed upstairs to his tower. The stone walls felt cold against cedric’s fingers as he guided himself up three floors of spiraled stairs. He looked out one of the windows to see the sun turning orange as it set over glistening red trees. It was beautiful in Enchantcia tonight. After looking for only a minute, he started back up the stairs.

Once he had made it to the door, he took a big breath and he walked in to find his girlfriend sitting crisscrossed on a table. You were wearing Black lacy shorts with flowers embroidered along with a spaghetti strapped top that matched. Trying to pick up your phone off the floor, you were dangling from the edge. You grabbed your phone and looked up to see your boyfriend.

           “Ceddy! You’re finally home.” You smiled, jumping off the table onto your sorcerer. Your hair was in a messy bun and fluffed up into his face when you grabbed onto him for a hug.

           “Hello, Angel.”

“I’ve been missing you all day.” You said, snuggling in tighter.

           “I have too. Oh, this is for you.” He said, giving you a hot mocha.

Your smile widened. “Thank you!”    After grabbing the hot beverage from him, you look a sip, and placed it on the table.

“You look tired.”

           “I am tired.” Cedric laughed, hugging you. He was happy to be home to you until he started remembering the conversation he had with Jonathan.

Noticing him grow somber, you asked him if he was okay.

           Cedric hesitated, “Yes, just tired I think.”

“Okay, why don’t you take a nap?” You asked, still having a questioning look on your face.

           “I may.”

You kissed him gently on the cheek and made sure he got to the bedroom. Closing the door behind you, you decided to grab a book and read until he woke.

                                                                       …

After a few hours, you decided to check on Cedric. You wanted to make sure he was okay after what happened earlier.

Walking into the bedroom, you found your boyfriend already awake on his phone.

           “Hello.” You greeted, walking along the side of the bed.

Cedric nodded at you.

           Carefully, you made you way to the upper part of the bed and sat down. Noticing his standoffish actions, you scooted closer to him.

           “Babe, what’s wrong? Please, tell me.” You quietly pleaded.

He looked over at you with glassy eyes. His face was full of pain, but you just couldn’t put a finger on what upset him.

           “Did I say or do something?”

“No.” He answered, shifting away from you slightly.

           “Cedric, tell me what’s wrong.” You grabbed his hand and put it on your lap.

He ran his other hand through his hair, and you noticed his shoulders tense.

           “Y/n,” he paused, his voice almost choking, “why-why do you stay here?”

You became confused.

           “What?”

“Why do you stay here…with me?”

           “I don’t u- “

“You have been with me for almost a year, and for merlin’s sake I have no idea why you stay.”

           “I love you.” You said, without thinking twice.

Cedric’s eyes met yours.

           “I love you, but I just don’t see how you could love me.”

You could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

           “Cedric, how could you not see- “

“Do you know what I am?”

           You stared at him, “Do I know what you are?”

“Yes. Do you know what I am?”

           You ran your hand up his arm gently, “You’re mine.”

“No. I mean, do you understand what I’ve done? I’ve tried overthrowing the kingdom, I plotted against the royal family for years. Everything had a terrible motive, everything I did was selfish, I dreamed of making others bow before me. I am not a good person.”

           “Cedric! Of course, I know that. I’ve always known all of that. I love you for you. You are a good person now, and I don’t care about your past, I love you for everything you are and once was.”

           Cedric looked down then he cocked his head.

“Once was?”

           You took a breath.

“Cedric, I’ve never admitted it, but I really don’t care you tried overthrowing the kingdom. It’s not healthy, I know, but sometimes I think my love for you is stronger than my morals.” You laughed nervously. “You are my person, my lobster, as some show would say, and no matter what, I love you. I’m not saying what you did was right, but because I love you, I overlook it easily.”

           He grabbed ahold of your hand and you wrapped your arm around him. He hugged you back tightly and you knew he felt better. You kissed the side of his cheek and laid you head on his chest.

           “What even made you think of that, love?”

“Nothing, I guess I just will never quite get used to you being mine.”

           The two of you sat in silence for a minute, then cedric turned towards you.

           “The royal family is having a party tonight to bring in the new year. I was wondering if you would want to go. The King invited us.”

           You beamed a smile.

“I’d love to!”

About an hour later, the two of you were walking down the hall towards the ballroom.

Once you arrived, you were greeted by a loud orchestra and babbling voices. The room was full of women in suits and dresses and men in the same attire. It was an extravagant gathering with gold and black streamers lining the walls and draping over the ceiling. At the front of the room sat the orchestra with its self-playing instruments and band members walking about. Some guests sat on floating chairs and plates that followed behind others walking. Workers hurried around, grabbing dirty, golden silverware.

           Cedric and you started over to the royal table when Sofia came running over.

“Mr. Cedric! Miss. Y/n! I’m so happy you guys could come.” She shouted over the music, running up and giving Cedric a hug followed by yours.

           “I’m glad we could. Please tell your father that we are very grateful.” You said to the young girl wearing the pink amulet.

           “I will. Are you guys going to sit down? There’s two chairs next to me.”

“Yes, we are. We’ll be over in a minute. Thanks again.”

           “No problem.” Sofia replied, running off to greet the other guests.

           You had almost made it over to the table when a loud voice practically yelled at Cedric.

“Cedric! There you are old buddy!”

           Cedric’s shoulders stiffened again.

“Hello, Jonathan.”

           “Who you got with you?”

“This is y/n, she’s my girlfriend.”

           The man looked you over and made you rather uncomfortable.

“Oh my god! She’s beautiful! What the hell did you have to bribe her to come with?”

           Your eyes flung wide open and you gasp.

“What?” You asked in a flat tone.

           “No offense to you ma’am, You’re beautiful! I’m just wondering’ how he got someone like you,” he glanced at Cedric, “with his past and all.”

You shot Jonathan an angry look.

           “For your information, I love this man with all my heart and want to be with him for who he is. If you can’t accept that then you can just kindly leave us alone!” You snapped.

           The man looked shocked.

           “Well, I guess if you’re happy- “

“I am happy. Thank you.”

           “It was nice seeing you again old buddy.”

“A pleasure really.” Cedric smiled, wrapping his arm around you.

           The two of you began walking away. You couldn’t believe how rude he had been. Before you had gotten too far, you were boiling over with anger and wanted that man to know you adored Cedric. Suddenly, you whipped around to make sure he was still watching. You grabbed Cedric by the collar and kissed him firmly on the lips.

           Jonathan looked horrified at you. You gave a sarcastic smile at him and turned back around.

           “Jackass.” You spat out under your breath.

“You have no idea.” Cedric agreed, placing his arm back around you tightly.

           “I truly do love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Cedric.”

           Cedric and you made it to the table and joined the royal family. Later, the two of you along other couples shared a passionate kiss at 12am to welcome the new year.

[chaoswillfallrpg]

JONATHAN REEVES is THIRTY YEARS OLD and a BARMAN at THE WHYTE WVRYN in KNOCKTURN ALLEY. He looks remarkably like LANDON LIBORIAN and considers himself NEUTRAL. He is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

tw: death, bodily harm, kidnapping, imprisonment

A name that was once synonymous with promis, Jonathan Reeves has always felt on the back foot in life no matter how hard he has tried to overcome his shortcomings. The eldest child of Pure-Blood witch ARIANWEN SMITH, Jonathan was born out of forbidden love on his mother’s part that threatened to cause the Smith family disgrace. One of the oldest Pure-Blood families in Wales, the Smith family were mild mannered though they were known devout purists in more recent years with a taste for tormenting those they considered to be of lesser blood. Jonathan’s mother Arianwen and her brother AERON were not like their parents. Having been Hufflepuffs at Hogwarts the siblings were more like their ancestors and filled with idealistic ideas of love and happiness. For Aeron he’d fall in love by chance with a beautiful Pure-Blood witch who he vowed to raise better than the way they had been, whilst Ariawen would form a romantic attachment to a Muggle-Born servant named SAMUEL REEVES. The pair began a secret relationship which resulted in pregnancy. Arianwen and Samuel kept their relationship and growing family a secret until one night when a parlour witch came to the Smith family home during a party to read the fortunes of those present. As Arianwen sat across from SEIRIAN PROFFWYD the cards were not flipped in her favour and a dangerous prophecy foretold.

A Half-Blood child born into disgrace would bring the family to its knees, skilled in the dark arts he would turn upon those who wronged him and harness such power those who crossed him would scarcely live to tell the tale. Fear and discrimination would be his downfall, the hatred in his heart boiling over until there was nothing left but darkness and a desire to inflict that hate upon others. Frightened by the tale, Seirian was cast out of the party, the Smith family dragging her name through the mud as a false prophet and limiting her work with high society families in the hope the tale would never be heard or believed. With a heavy heart Arianwen said goodbye to Samuel, accepting the hand in marriage of TARAN WARRINGTON, a wealthy Pure-Blood wizard who agreed to father her son as his own. Jonathan Reeves was born Jonathan Warrington and raised in the beautiful wizarding village of Caerphilly where the Warrington family had been residents. There Jonathan was raised in luxury, in the beauty of rolling hills, silver tea trays and nannies though he never quite felt the past of the family. Despite doing his best to treat him as his own Taran knew Jonathan was not his child and was the son of poor Muggle-Born who had the true love of his wife. When Jonathan’s siblings were born, his sister ALYS and then his brother TRYSTAN it became evermore clear where he ranked among the Warrington family.

Jonathan’s father was cold with him, his mother could hardly bear to look at him and his grandmother CATRIN he often heard calling him a “half-breed”.  Jonathan went looking for answers of his own and lost himself in the process. Years of ill treatment had worn him down and hardened him. He grew to despise his mother, her weakness, her secrecy and strive for the approval of the stranger he knew as his father but knew the title was a lie. His brother and sister were annoyances, background noise he knew he should try to love but couldn’t muster the feeling. Jonathan didn’t hate Alys, he felt indifferent about her whereas Trystan he attempted to actively avoid until the day he received his letter to Hogwarts. Leaving Blackheath Hall was not a painful experience, it was an escape to a world where he could make a new name for himself. As Jonathan Warrington the world was at his fingertips. Sorted into Slytherin he befriended children with names he’d heard mentioned in passing conversation. ARISTAEUS GREENGRASS, DECIUS FLINT and LUCILLE JONES became firm friends of his, each from important families and popular within Slytherin house due to their notoriety. Jonathan can remember as clear as day the event that changed his standing in school to mirror that of the one he’d experienced at home. When he was sixteen his parents died in a carriage crash, their winged horses getting caught in a storm and getting lost over the English Channel.

Catrin, a devout purist who had never liked Jonathan and felt she no longer needed to keep up the charade put in place. Moving him to a wing in the house where she would no longer have to see him, Jonathan was registered at school under his father’s name and told him the truth of his birth. He was a Half-Blood with a filthy Muggle-Born father who was only fit to wipe the shoes of his mother’s family. With the truth of his parentage out he noticed slight changes amongst his group of friends. Decius didn’t treat him the same as he had previously and Ash always had a sympathetic glimmer in his eye similar to the one he had for Lucille. Despite also being a Half-Blood herself, Lucille became much more clipped with him, actively distancing herself from the now disgraced wizard. Jonathan was a teenager with fake friends, a name he didn’t recognise. His family was gone and those he had left he didn’t love. Upon graduating Hogwarts Jonathan left school and went in search of his father with only a name and the knowledge he had worked for the Smith family prior to his birth and subsequent dismissal. Travelling the country with no money to his name Jonathan made money working in bars and doing odd jobs, his search led him to Kent where the Reeves family were said to have owned a cottage. In the darkness he walked to the door and called for a member of the Reeves family to answer, but it was a werewolf instead that answered.

Disgraced by his family and with nothing left to lose Seirian paid off a werewolf who she had been sleeping with to murder him. Leaping from the darkness the wolf sank his teeth into Jonathan’s skin, his cries in the night alerting another wolf who jumped to his aid. Slender and agile, it fought the larger wolf and won, watching it take off into the night before licking the bite. The last thing Jonathan remembered were a set of pale green eyes looking at him before he lost consciousness and awoke to a beautiful woman sitting beside him in a forest. SELENA PETROSYAN was a werewolf who belonged to a pack which rivalled that of the wolf who had come to bite him that evening. Though she was not much older than him she had a kindness about her which was almost motherly which his own mother had lacked. With no one to turn to and werewolf venom coursing through his veins he allowed Selena to take him in, joining the ranks of FENRIR GREYBACK’s pack of wolves and accepting a job at The White Wvryn in Knockturn Alley where he hoped no one would ask questions. His new life was much more simple than what he was used to, but the kindness of Selena and their pack made him feel at ease enough to move around wizarding London and make friends with those he previously felt inferior to. It was on one of these evenings drinking with ERIK BORGIN and CAIUS BURKE he first laid on the witch who would begin to fully heal the hole in his soul.

ROSALIE FLINT sang at The Grave Affair. Her voice was music to his ears and over a string of chance encounters, dates and stolen kisses she slowly became the love of his life. Jonathan Reeves had always been a selfish man but now when his heart beat it did so just for her. Unknowingly he had entered a situation like that of his mother. He was a Half-Blood werewolf and she was a Pure-Blood witch who loved him anyway. Their nights were spent sneaking around and plotting to run away together to build a future away from London when one night it was cut short. As he was locking up after work he was advanced upon in the darkness by SILAS CRUMP who knocked him out and bundled him into a car. When he woke up he was in the cellar of what looked like a brewery. Jonathan was comfortable enough for someone in captivity, Silas was kind to him, explaining he needed his identity to clear his name and look for his daughter. Reluctantly, Jonathan agreed to help in exchange for Rosalie’s protection and the agreement would last no longer than a month. The evening of The Yule Ball, Silas never returned. Jonathan waited but with no one there to fit the chains in order to keep him contained on the next full moon he broke out to be reunited with his love. Back in the wizarding world he found things had changed. Silas was gone without a trace and Rosalie Flint was missing. Separated from her, Jonathan will do anything he can to get her back and make whoever has hurt her pay the price.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Half-Blood (Werewolf)

Pronouns → He/Him

Identification → Cis Male

Sexuality  → Up To Roleplayer

Relationship Status → N/A

Previous Education →  Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Slytherin)

Societies → The Greyback Wolves

Family → Alys Warrington (half-sister/adversary), Trystan Warrington (half-brother/adversary), Arabella Smith (cousin), Elezar Smith (cousin), Carys Smith (cousin)

Connections  → Rosalie Flint (girlfriend), Selena Petrosyan (colleague/close friend/family figure), Fenrir Greyback (alpha), Aristaeus Greengrass (close friend), Erik Borgin (friend), Caius Burke (friend), Lucille Jones (former friend), Decius Flint (former friend), Silas Crump (adversary)

Future Information → N/A

JONATHAN REEVES IS A LEVEL 6 WIZARD/WEREWOLF.

[xrhq]

NAME: Jack Conway

AGE: 37

PRONOUNS: He/Him

FACECLAIM: Sebastian Stan

SEXUALITY: Pansexual

PROFESSION: Unemployed Sentinel Services Operative

ROLE: Refugee

POSITIVES: Compassionate, Knowledgeable, Resourceful

NEGATIVES: Reserved, Impatient, Quick-tempered

POWERS: Rapid Cellular Regeneration 

BIOGRAPHY:

Born Jonathan Conway, or ‘Jack’ as family, friends, and other came to call him, was one of three children, an older sister and younger brother. He grew up in Boston, Massachusetts to a regular working-class family where they lived in a two-story house in the suburbs, they did chores on Saturdays and family dinners every Thursday night. He didn’t initially know he was a mutant because his ability is latent, and harm has to be caused. However, three years younger than his older sister, his parents had already been through the childhood sicknesses and wasn’t it strange that their son never grew sick. His parents, his mother specifically suspected and later on even knew her son had an ability. However, his father chose to pull the ostrich routine and put his head in the sand and pretend like nothing was wrong. A skinned knee, it still hurt, and he’d go crying to mom as any child would. She would comfort him and watch the wound heal on its own but she would still go through the routine of putting a band aid on it so others wouldn’t suspect.

Growing up, his parents were super protective – he just assumed they didn’t want to see him get hurt. And in essence, that was the case. When he was fourteen and a freshman in high school, he wanted to play football. His parents said no and of course, he forged their signature on the permission slip. Out on the field, he took a fairly nasty hit from his teammates. He remembers hiding the ground, feeling something snap and the pain that came from it. The coaches rushed over and by the time they got there the broken arm that he’s suffered had healed. From that moment, he didn’t join the football team and instead took to figuring out his mutation.

After school, Jack and a friend of his would explore the internet for information about ‘mutants’ and what the infamous X-Men could do. They would then go out to a construction yard after hours and experiment on how far his ability could go. Let’s just say they had some pretty creative things happen. All of which he regenerated from. All the while, tensions were slowly simmering between humans and mutants, us versus them.

Having no idea what he wanted to do when he grew up, Jack ended up going to Boston College where after two years he finally decided to pursue a history major with a particular interest on mutants. Though for him, it was easy to hide what he was. Tensions began to get heated – X-Men, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and humanity – hostility began to get worse as time went on and it finally came to a head in 2015. ‘Mutants attack the White House’ is splashed across every news coverage worldwide. The Brotherhood of Mutants, a more extreme group that believed in mutant superiority had declared open war on the humans. Congress responds back with the Defence Against Mutants Act and Jack decides he can’t stay in his little world in Boston and moves to New York to join the X-Men cause to show people that those with abilities aren’t all dangerous and they want to live in peace.

Two years later the X-Men are disbanded and humanity in scared. Laws and more restrictions are passed to discriminate against mutants. Mutants are hunted down and he, along with others all across the states come together in the last of the mutant resistance to protect those who just want to get up and go to their 9 to 5 jobs and live normal lives.

Then one year ago, he and a few others went out to help rescue a family that was being hunted down by the Sentinel Services. They were holed up in an abandoned warehouse however the whole thing was a setup. The family didn’t exist, and the government was trying to get their hands on members of the resistance in order to get information. The government lucked out further thought because not only did they get members of the resistance, but they also got one considered ‘highly interesting’ with an ability to regenerate. It would be considerably helpful to their testing facilities to be able to carry out experiments.

Considered lost or otherwise killed as few survive the testing facilities, Jack Conway was just another who died for his beliefs that one day mutants and humans could live peacefully.

Then early 2021, the X-Resistance learns about a research facility and break in to rescue the mutants being used as test subjects. Among them, Jack Conway – alive. He’s been brought back to headquarters with the few others rescued, however, he has no memory of what’s happened to him over the last year and a couple months. Flashes really of experiments but nothing really helpful. He definitely would be a subject that the government would like back but he stays within the confines of headquarters, though maybe a disguise or something might help if he wants to go out and about. Better not to risk it though. Now he’s just trying to figure out what happen next…

Or is he?

A year of experiments is a long time and things happened. Jack Conway is not who he appears to be. A re-programmed mutant for their own use, the Sentinel Services have their very own sleeper agent among the ranks of the resistance just waiting to be greenlighted.

[stvbby-boardman]

Stubby Boardman

Basics:

Name: Samuel “Stubby” Boardman Meaning: Samuel, Hebrew, “God has heard”, Birthday: December 9 Age: 25 Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual Parents: Jonathan and Cindy Boardman Other Family: Ruthie Boardman (18, sister), Thomas Boardman (14, brother) Languages: English (American Accent)

Wizard Fun:

Ilvermorny House: Thunderbird Year of Graduation: 1973 Occupation: Frontman of The Hobgoblins Pet: Cat named Patches  Blood Status: Muggleborn (but his publicized blood status is Halfblood) Species: Human Patronus: Hedgehog Boggart: His family being tortured by magic Amortentia: Ale, Campfire Smoke, Pansys Scent: Hit of cigarette smoke and expensive cologne used sparingly.   Wand type: Pine, Unicorn tail hair core, 11 inches, Flexible Affiliation: Neutral, Order leaning

Appearance:

Height: 5ft 10in Hair Color: Dark Brown Eye Color: Brown Typical Hair Style: Long, often tied back with a bandanna  Fashion Style: Distressed jeans, black leather or denim jackets, band t-shirts or plain ones Distinguishing Features: N/A

Personality:

Positive Traits: + Creative + Optimistic +  Negative Traits: - Prideful - Out-of-Touch - 

Headcanon:

TBA

Bio:

Samuel grew up in a family full of happiness and joy.  His parents fostered creativity in all three of their children, and Stubby as the oldest gravitated immediately to music.  His sister Ruth began painting at the tender age of 3 (mostly with her fingers), and Thomas began building great empires with his toy blocks.  The siblings were always close, Stubby's nickname coming from a mispronunciation of Ruthie's that just stuck, even into his adulthood.  Those first 11 years felt full of magic even if they technically weren't.  It came as a fantastic surprise when word came that Stubby had been admitted into a school for witches and wizards.  While the idea of leaving his family behind for a boarding school was difficult, he couldn't wait to see what the wizarding world had in store.

He was selected for house Thunderbird when he arrived, which fueled his desire for adventure.  His classmates often talked of wild fancy and the amazing experiences they might have together once they learned all they could and graduated.  Stubby began teaching some music to his friends, and a few of his best mates made a pact that they would take a year after school to try and make it big.  These were his people, the guys he wanted to grow old with after a life of travel and making something that would last.

Upon graduation, they began playing in various bars and pubs in wizarding new york.  Luck was on their side, and they were found by a record exec with the wizarding world who thought they might be able to make it big.  Changing their band name to The Hobgoblins and minimizing Stubby's blood status (not good for the international market), the group was famous before they knew it.  The past 5 years have been a whirlwind of shows, fans, making music, and impacting the world in a crazy way.  Stubby has kept in touch with his family as much as he could, visiting them in-between tours and studio sessions.

The Hobgoblins are in the midst of their European Tour, and this business about the war is getting to Stubby.  Things are getting dire here, and he worries that if it gets too out of hand his family back home could be in danger.  With Ruthie getting ready to graduate muggle school and Thomas just beginning Senior High, he wants them to grow up in a world that isn't being controlled by evil dark wizards and witches.  AS such, he's vowed to help however he can to make sure the Death Eaters don't end up winning.  If he can add a little excitement and musicality to people's lives along the way, he couldn't really ask for more.

[bubonickitten]

Summary: Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Chapter 3 is up! 

Chapter 1 (tumblr // AO3) | Chapter 2 (tumblr // AO3)

Full text + content warnings under the cut.

CW: brief claustrophobia; some grief and loss stuff; a few more instances of casual misgendering (not malicious; just some wrong pronouns here and there due to the speaking-in-statements thing, but thought I'd mention it just in case); a single LORGE spider. Also, Jon gets to do one (1) swear, as a treat. SPOILERS through MAG 169.

   Chapter 3: Rift

   Jon doesn’t remember the hill being this steep.

  Or maybe he’s just winded from the long trek through the wasteland. He’d had to pass through a long stretch of territory fought over by the Buried and the Vast. The ground there was practically a minefield, pockmarked with sinkholes. They would start out as quicksand traps and suffocating tunnel entrances, only to be hollowed out into yawning chasms and cenotes, then ultimately collapsed all over again by a retaliation-minded Choke. It was an endless cycle of petty rivalry and animosity, and passing so near their battlegrounds left Jon breathless with a discordant mix of claustrophobia and agoraphobia.

  Worse was when the Dark managed to sneak its way into the mix. Whether it was Too Close I Cannot Breathe or the Vast’s abyss, the Dark could always find a way to exploit subterranean spaces – and it could never resist reaching out to needle at an Avatar of the Eye, no matter how inadvisable it was to cross the Archive these days.

  As Jon drew closer to Hill Top Road, he left the warzone behind for a mostly featureless landscape punctuated with the occasional foxholes of the Slaughter and pockets of the Forsaken’s fog. Eventually those too gave way to a seemingly endless dust bowl of soot and ash – a sprawling domain claimed by the Lightless Flame.

  The house at Hill Top Road is the only thing still standing in the midst of kilometres of Desolation-scorched earth. The charred terrain stops abruptly at the foot of the hill, a stark line demarcating the boundary between the Blackened Earth and the territory that Annabelle Cane has staked out as her own. Jon had half-expected an invisible barrier to stop him there as well – the last time he was here, Annabelle had forbidden him from returning – but there had been no resistance when he stepped over the border.

  As he hikes up the incline now, he finds himself worrying over what that might mean. Is Annabelle expecting him, inviting him in? Is she simply tolerating his presence, curious to see what he’s up to? Could he be powerful enough now that even she cannot stop him? Or is he once again wrapped up in the Web’s machinations, doing exactly what the Mother of Puppets wants?

  He shakes his head. No. He and Martin talked about this. There’s no point in obsessing over the Web’s motivations, letting the memory of Annabelle’s statement paralyze him with indecision. Better to just… keep moving forward.

  And it’s not like he has anything left to lose. 

  Jon continues up the hill, increasingly winded, his bad leg throbbing angrily, and he thinks to himself again: he really, really doesn’t remember it being this steep.

   Before long, he’s standing at the threshold of the house at Hill Top Road. The dread permeating the place is just as palpable as he remembered.

  He waits for the Distortion’s inevitable appearance, determined not to let her startle him this time. As if on cue, a door creaks open on the ceiling above him.

  “Interesting.” Without preamble, Helen lands noiselessly on her feet beside Jon and peers around curiously. “I wondered whether Annabelle would let me in.”

  So did Jon. Maybe he should be concerned about – no. He shuts down that train of thought before it can pull out of the station.    

  “You still haven’t explained what exactly you plan on doing here.”

  Honestly, that’s mostly because Jon hasn’t figured it out yet, either. He only Knows that this is where he needs to be.

  The Eye wants things to change – as much as it can be said to want anything. Setting the question of its sentience or lack thereof aside, at the Panopticon he had been able to Know things that the Beholding had previously withheld from him. He might be stronger than the other Avatars and monsters lurking about the world, but he’s not arrogant enough to believe he could overpower any of the Fears themselves. If the Ceaseless Watcher gives him access to knowledge, it’s because his Knowing will facilitate – or at least not inhibit – its plans, which means that he must have the Eye’s… blessing, to be here? He shakes his head; he’s getting caught up on semantics again.

  Point is: he Asked a question and – as usual – he was given a scrap of an answer and left to puzzle the rest out for himself. All he Knows for certain is what he wants to happen, and that this is where he needs to be in order to make it happen.

  “Jonathan.” Helen says his name with a playful lilt and leans further into his personal space. “Are you going to share with the class?” 

  Without a word, he sidesteps around her and walks further into the house. In her statement, Anya Villette had mentioned a door under the stairs leading to the basement, but the last time Jon was here, it was nowhere to be seen. He hopes it’s there this time.

  “What are you looking for?”

  Jon drags one hand down his face and sighs. Having Helen tag along is like taking a road trip through hell with an easily bored and… well, deeply annoying child. Huh.   

  “I won’t be ignored, Jon –”  

  Jon bristles, redirects his gaze, and stares daggers at her with a few more eyes than strictly necessary. “Some magically appearing door.”  

  “You aren’t being very kind to me right now, you know.” She tries to sound wounded, but really she just sounds pleased to have gotten a reaction from him.

  Jon gives an irritated huff and continues forward through the entrance hall. He treads softly, all too aware of every subtle creak of a floorboard. He doesn’t know why he’s bothering muffling his footsteps. It doesn’t matter how quiet he is; Annabelle will know – probably already knows – that he’s here regardless. Still, there’s just something about the house that demands a certain amount of fearful reverence. Disturbing the silence just feels like a bad idea. 

  Helen doesn’t appear to have the same concerns. In fact, it almost seems like she’s going out of her way to announce their presence. Of course.

  Jon catches a glimpse of the staircase as he rounds the corner and – yes, there’s a door under the stairs. A plain, painted white door with a brass handle, otherwise unremarkable and entirely unassuming.

  And yet…

  As he tries to approach it, he finds himself rooted to the spot, overcome with a sense of trepidation. He feels his breath coming faster, shallower; feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Every one of the Archive’s eyes locks onto the doorknob and for a moment he swears he feels tiny, feather-light legs scurrying down his spine. He pulls his pack tight against him, using the physical weight of it to dampen the tactile hallucination.     

  “I hate it,” Helen says darkly. Jon jumps just slightly at the break in the silence, and a few of the Archive’s eyes suspend their rapt scrutiny of the door handle to glance in her direction. Her posture is tense where she stands, staring warily at the door as if it might lunge at them. Jon has never seen the Distortion look so… unsettled.    

  She’s right, though. The door is wrong. More than that, it’s the exact same flavor of wrongness that he felt the first time he saw A Guest for Mr. Spider, and again when he reached out to knock on the monster’s door.

  Back then, he hadn’t known that the concept of wrongness could be broken down into so many distinct subtypes: the uncanny disquietude of the Stranger feels fundamentally different from the compulsion of the coffin, the sensation of worms tunneling through flesh, the Distortion’s nonsensical corridors, the Lonely’s suffocating fog.

  The pull of the Web is in a class of its own, and the sight of the door in front of him drops him right back into the memory of the day he opened the book – the day he took the first step on the winding path that led him, inevitably, to this exact moment. It’s such a fitting parallel, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was orchestrated down to the finest detail. He knows the Web plays a long game, but precisely how much of what has happened was in perfect accordance with the Web’s plans? What even is the Web’s –

  No. Stop fixating on the Spider, he reprimands himself for the umpteenth time this… day? Whatever; it’s not important. He forces his legs to move.

  “You’re sticking your hand in a bear trap, I hope you know.” 

  “I knew opening the door was a stupid thing to do,” Jon says, nonchalant. “So I opened the door.”  

  Helen breathes a surprised laugh. “Was that a joke?”

  “The idea that this is all some grand cosmic joke,” Jon rattles off drily, “thousands of us running around spread horror and sabotaging each other pointlessly while these impossible unknowing things just lurk out there, feeding off the misery we caused –”  

  “Terrible.” Helen groans and puts her head in her hands. “Here I was, ready to compliment you on finally finding a sense of humor, and you have to ruin the moment with – with existentialist brooding.”

  Jon chuckles quietly to himself and takes another step forward.  

  “Wait.” Helen reaches one long-fingered hand in Jon’s direction, then falters and pulls back. For a moment, she seems to wrestle with whether or not to continue. “What’s behind the door?”

  “A scar in reality –”  

  “Yes, I know about the rift. What do you expect to find in it? An answer? An escape? A means of suicide?”

  “A metaphysical quirk of this new reality’s divorce from the traditional concept of time.”  

  Jon pauses, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks inward and browses through his catalog.

  “It bends and twists and returns to what it was,” he settles on eventually.  

  “I told you not to use my words.” Helen gives him a warning look, but it’s fleeting, because a moment later his meaning sinks in and she huffs out a short laugh of disbelief. “Wait – wait, wait, wait. You think you can… what, turn back time?”

  Jon grimaces and makes a noncommittal seesawing motion with one hand.

  “…could emerge back into the world that she remembered.”   

  Helen starts laughing in earnest now. “You think you can time travel?”

  Jon just shrugs, unashamed. He knows he should feel embarrassed – back when he first took the position as Head Archivist, he would have scoffed at anyone making such a suggestion – but at this point, is it any more or less unrealistic than anything else that’s happened?

  “Alright,” Helen says, stifling another giggle, “I’ll grant you that there’s a rift in space and time. People have traveled through it before.”

  Jon gives an enthusiastic nod. After her encounter with the crack in the house's foundation, Anya Villette had found herself temporally displaced. What would stop Jon from also –

  “However,” Helen continues, “what makes you think you’ll just rewind your position on this timeline? It could just take you to a parallel world, leaving this one behind to suffer and decay. Would you abandon what remains of humanity like that?”

  Seeing as Anya Villette appeared to have also been spatially displaced, Jon has already considered this possibility. Helen probably knows that, too – she’s well-acquainted with his tendency to overthink things. She’s just trying to tap into his chronic self-loathing, demoralize him, make him doubt his own perceptions. It’s a familiar pattern, one Jon used to submit to far too easily.

  “…better than staying here with this strange woman.”  

  “Ouch.” Helen brings a hand to her chest in mock offense. “You’re being awfully cruel today.”

  Jon flashes an entirely unapologetic smile.

  “I was being serious, you know.” A knowing mischief creeps into Helen’s eyes. “You’ve always been selfish, but would you really run away from your mistakes, save yourself and damn the rest?”

  Unfortunately for Helen, she’s arrived too late to this particular debate. Jon already spent the entire trip here berating himself and second-guessing his conclusions, and he’s just about gotten it out of his system for the time being. Self-recrimination as an inoculation against the Distortion’s manipulations – now there’s a concept, he thinks wryly.  

  “Do you honestly believe you deserve to escape an apocalypse that you brought about?”

  God, she’s persistent.

  “Now there’s only one thing I have left that I value,” he says simply. “That I love. And I cannot lose him.”  

  It’s the truth: the final deciding factor for him was, as it so often is, Martin.

  “You would potentially forsake this entire world just to reverse your own loss?”

  “There was nothing left to save.”  

  It never gets easier to admit it out loud, but that doesn’t change the truth of it. This world is already forsaken. Humanity is dying out, slowly but surely, and Jon harbors a guilty feeling of relief that their torment will not be eternal after all. As far as he can See, there’s no way for him to save the ones who remain. There never was.

  His power was never meant to help anyone. For a long time, the only action within his grasp was to hurt – and so, he went after those who deserved to be hurt, because the only other option was doing nothing at all. But seeking revenge never saved anyone, never even made himself feel any better. If anything, it only made him feel emptier, more and more alienated from whatever human part of him still lingered – and that was a very dangerous place to be.

  And when he and Martin decided together that he needed to slow down, to maintain some distance between himself and the Eye? Well… nothing substantial changed in the slightest. He didn’t get any worse, but he also didn’t get better. The world continued to suffer just as much as if he were to sit down and take no action at all. Nothing he did or did not do made any impact whatsoever.

  He Knows intimately that he cannot banish the Entities from this world as long as one person remains to feel fear. Once that last person dies, there will be no one left to save. Hell, depending on how human he still is by that time, he may very well be that last person, and the Dread Powers will just have to ration him. And why shouldn’t they? They’ve all had a taste of him more than once. He’s an unfinished meal. They could just resume hacking away at him, demanding their respective pounds of flesh one after the other until nothing remains – until finally, mercifully, the Fears themselves would wither and die as well. He just doesn’t want to consider how long that could take – no. Best not to dwell on it.   

  The point is, there is no future for this world. There is nothing left for him to do here. His only hope is to prevent all of this from coming to pass in the first place, and this… this is the only lead he has. And besides, Martin –

  “You do realize that you have a vanishingly small chance of seeing him again, don’t you?”

  “I decided to take a risk and try it anyway.”  

  Helen looks put out at his easy dismissal, but she really ought to know better by now, Jon thinks. He might be chronically plagued by self-hate and a visceral fear of being controlled, but Martin is his anchor in more ways than one. Their relationship is proof of Jon’s own capacity for free will, and his decision to go after Martin in the Lonely remains one of the only things he’s done where he’s never once wondered whether he made the right choice. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more confident about anything than he is about their love for each other, even if he doesn’t always feel like he deserves it. Helen really couldn’t pick a worse seed with which to sow self-doubt.

  When she sees that Jon isn’t taking the bait, she changes tack. 

  “And assuming this scheme somehow works as you hope it does, and doesn’t just get you shunted to some hellish pocket dimension – which it almost certainly will – you do realize that your little scene with Jonah Magnus will mean nothing, don’t you? This future will be erased, he will not suffer for eternity – he won’t even remember that it was ever a possibility.”

  “For all her anger, there was no thirst for revenge in the Archivist, only an eagerness to expunge an infection that had gone unnoticed for too long.”  

  “Then why bother confronting him? I know it wasn’t for closure – if you were at all capable of letting go or moving on, you would never have been a candidate for the Beholding in the first place, and we wouldn’t be here now.” Jon just barely manages to not flinch at that. Luckily, Helen doesn’t seem to notice that she struck a nerve, instead staring up at the ceiling in contemplation, as if trying to decipher Jon’s motivations on her own. “So, why? All those messy emotions it dredged up and for what – the drama of it all?”  

  “I live for the monologue,” he deadpans. 

  “Jonathan!” Helen gapes at him in exaggerated shock. “Was that another joke?”

  She could stand to tone down the condescension, Jon thinks. It isn’t his fault if people overlook his sense of humor just because they never think to listen for it.   

  “Are you certain about this, Archivist? You have a history of reaching these points of no return and choosing the worst imaginable path.”

  Even at the very end, the Distortion just can’t resist one last chance at undermining his confidence. Despite the cockiness underlying her taunt, Helen has a hungry, almost pleading look in her eye – desperate, like everything else in this place that feeds on fear, for scraps in the midst of a famine that will never be remedied.

  Jon reaches out and grips the doorknob with one hand.

  “Even the end of the world can’t stop you throwing yourself on a grenade. Can’t say I’m surprised. I’m not following you in there, though.”

  “Thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose.”   

  “I am trying to have a heartfelt goodbye, Jonathan,” Helen says, not sounding sincere in the slightest. “I doubt this will go as you hope it will, but I’m fairly certain that no matter what happens, I won’t be seeing you again. I won’t wish you luck, but… well, it will be interesting to see whether one of your half-assed plans might pan out for once – not that they ever have gone according to plan.” When Jon’s resolve remains strong, Helen sighs – and this time, her disappointment does sound genuine. “Well, if you’re sure…” She trails off, giving him one last hopeful look – once last chance to fall apart under her skillful denigrations – before her shoulders slump in resignation.

  Not content to leave it at that, though, she does offer one last parting shot: “Do say hello to the Spider for me, won’t you?”

  An involuntary shudder courses down Jon’s spine as he remembers Anya Villette’s statement – the massive spider legs reaching up to pull her into the crack in the foundation – and compares it with his own memory of the book, the door, and the monster lurking within. Helen breathes a contented sigh at his ripple of unease – basically a snack for her, at Jon’s expense. Fine. She can have that last little morsel of fear from him, as a parting gift.  

  “Sometimes you just have to leave,” Jon says firmly, turning the handle. “Even if what’s on the other side scares you.”  

  And, oh, it does.

  Miraculously, Helen allows him to have the last word. As he pushes open the door to the basement, he hears Helen’s door creak open in unison. By the time he’s staring down the stairs into the dark, her door has snapped shut and popped out of existence. 

   The staircase pitches down, down, down, stretching far deeper than it should. It’s too dark to see much of anything, and it takes a full minute of descent until he notices that there’s a slight curve to it. With every step, the air grows warmer and more stifling. The revolting sensation of walking through cobwebs becomes a constant, but any time he reaches up to brush away the web clinging to him, he feels nothing but his own bare skin.

  A few minutes in, his bad leg starts twinging again, and he holds on to the wall to steady himself. Before long, his mind begins to wander to the horrifying possibility that the staircase is interminable, and he’s overcome by an image of a funnel web spider waiting patiently for unsuspecting prey. He tries to push the thought away. Just keep moving.

  Between the lack of visibility and being lost in his own head, he doesn’t notice the sharp turn in the staircase until he plows right into the wall, a sharp pain erupting in his left shoulder from the collision. He throws one hand back to steady himself and only barely manages to stay on his feet, his bad leg protesting as he throws his weight into it. After briefly taking inventory of himself and experimentally putting weight on his leg again – painful, but not unbearable – he gropes blindly for the wall again and uses it to guide himself forward, more slowly this time. It isn’t long before the stone of the wall gives way to cool, damp earth, and he shivers with the memory of the Buried.

  After several more sharp, nearly 90-degree twists and turns, a faint glow starts to permeate the darkness. A few minutes later, the staircase opens up into a large, dimly-lit space, garlanded with spider silk. The ceiling, walls, and floor are composed of tightly-packed dirt, and Jon has to fight back a rush of claustrophobic panic at the thought of being surrounded on all sides by the crushing earth. It’s short-lived, as it’s crowded out by a much deeper, more primal fear when he sees the fissure in the ground ahead.

  It’s a repulsive, crooked thing, oozing with a pervasive, tangible feeling of wrongness. It should not be there. It cannot be there. And yet there it is, boldly existing where it has no right or reason to be, a gnawing, open, inflamed wound in the fabric of reality, pulling him toward it like a black hole. It’s a compulsion stronger than the coffin, an abomination more uncanny than the Stranger, a malice deeper than any Dark, an inevitability on par with Terminus itself.

  Jon hates it. At his first glimpse of it, every one of the Archive’s eyes fly open, greedily drinking in the oppressive presence of something so unfamiliar and anomalous, leeching off of Jon’s terror as he beholds it. The scrutiny is fleeting, though, as the sight of it turns corrosive and blistering; all at once, the eyes shrink away and retreat, like a school of fish spotting a bird of prey swooping down for a meal. It takes some of the edge off, having fewer eyes with which to see the thing, but it still weighs him down with dread and revulsion.

  Jon doesn’t know how long he’s stood there, staring unblinkingly at the fault line, before he senses a presence – something colossal and hungry and wrong, malevolence and foreboding given physical form – climbing inexorably toward him. He hears a faint rustling, the whisper of tiny avalanches of dirt scraped loose and sent sliding down the walls of the crevice. He knows exactly what to expect, and still he isn’t prepared when the first of the spider’s legs peeks up over the lip of the fissure.

     How is it that after a lifetime to process a childhood trauma, it still throttles his heart and squeezes the air from his lungs at the mere thought of it? How is it that, despite being the most formidable thing in this world outside of Fear itself, he feels as small and helpless now as he did on the day he met his first of many monsters? Why is he just standing here, letting those hairy, spindly limbs hover and curl around him like an enormous clawed hand, waiting for a fate that is as unknowable as it is inevitable?

  Focus, Jon thinks to himself. Listen to the quiet.

  He slowly reaches into his jacket and breathes a sigh of relief as his fingers close around the notebook safeguarded there. It’s Martin’s, full of poems and sketches and stream-of-consciousness journal entries. Jon has had it with him for a long time now, but he’s never been able to bring himself to look inside it. Martin would occasionally share its contents with him – mostly completed poems, and only occasionally works in progress, as he was always self-conscious about his creative process – but Jon doesn’t want to accidentally see something that Martin would have preferred to keep to himself. Martin might not be beside him right now, but he still deserves to have his privacy respected.

  Still, for Jon, just having it with him is a physical reminder of his anchor, and running his thumb over the cover grounds him in the present. He closes his eyes and looks inward.  

  The Archive gropes blindly for something solid amidst the noise, some elemental truth to serve as a starting point in the chaotic tangle choking this place. The edges of his mind brush against thread after thread and none of them are what he’s looking for. They stick to him, filling his head with cotton, making him sluggish and confused, obfuscating his sight. The Spider watches as he flails, becoming more and more snarled in the web.

  “I closed my eyes and remembered in as much detail and with as much love as I could muster in my despair,” he whispers to himself, anchoring himself in the truth of the statement. He swallows a terrified whimper as something coarse and fuzzy brushes against his face, and he weaves a command into his next words: “Eventually, I opened my eyes again –” 

  The Archive obeys, hundreds of eyes materializing on his skin and blinking open in the space around him, grotesque satellites of varying sizes all seizing on single question, and suddenly he can See –

  There.

  A single thread, out of place among the rest, pulled taut and leading down into the deep gloom of the chasm. He spares a brief thought as to its origin point – Is its anchor here, now, or do its roots begin on the other side? – before silencing it. It’s not a question that needs answering right now. The Beholding objects; Jon reflexively shuts it down and takes an aggravated swipe at the nearest cluster of eyes he can reach, like swatting at a swarm of mosquitoes. He doesn’t think it actually does anything concrete, but when they disperse it brings him a small measure of satisfaction all the same.

  He gives an experimental tug on the thread and – it feels right. That’s good, right? Well, he supposes it could be the Web trying to trick him into –

  God, he’s like a dog with a bone. He could be trapped in a burning building and find part of his mind wandering off to idly ponder the melting point of steel –

  …around 1370 °C for carbon steel; between 1400 and 1530°C for stainless steel, depending on the specific alloy and grade…

  – which, yes, he has done. It’s a good way to dissociate from a crisis. Unfortunately, it’s also a good way to get killed, and the giant spider is still there, Jonathan, focus.    

  He holds fast to the thread – make a path for yourself, tune it to the frequency you need –

  “Everything about being with him felt so natural that when he told me he loved me,” he tells himself, louder this time, “it only came as a surprise to realize that we hadn’t said it already.”  

  – and he follows it, stepping carefully around and between the spider’s legs. He has no idea why it isn’t attacking him – what if this is exactly what Annabelle – no. He shakes his head as if it will jostle the thought loose. Just be thankful for it and keep moving before the damn thing changes its mind.

  Moments or hours or perhaps days later, he’s standing at the precipice of the fissure and looking down. Several eyes are riveted on the massive hairy form poised above him, but most are staring into the unknowable darkness with a gnawing, longing fascination. He stands frozen in place, torn between an overwhelming urge to flee and an overpowering need to Know what’s down there: something new, something fresh, something different – any reprieve at all from the excruciating monotony of this nightmare world.

  The spider shifts above him. It’s now or never. He has nothing to lose, and if there’s any chance at all of changing this doomed future – of seeing Martin again…

  “Sometimes you just have to leave,” he reminds himself, shutting his human eyes tight, one hand clutching the notebook and the other clenching into a fist until the fingernails cut into the palm. “Even if what’s on the other side scares you.”  

  He takes one last deep breath, thinks of Martin – safe hands, warm eyes, gentle touch – and he takes a leap of faith.

   Jon can’t see anything. He can’t See, either. There is an incessant, high-pitched whine screaming in his ears and drowning out his thoughts. When he moves to put his hands over his ears, he realizes all at once that he can’t feel his body. He has no sense of up or down, no fingers to flex, no breath to hold, and – and he can’t See.

  It’s… terrifying. It’s liberating. It hurts, but in the same way that his first gulp of fresh air hurt after three days asphyxiating in the Buried.

  He doesn’t know how long he floats there in that near-senseless limbo, but between one moment and the next a blanket of fog drops over him and the shrill static is muffled. Through the haze, he can just barely make out a voice, coming from so far away – like he’s drowning, and someone is speaking to him from above the water’s surface. He drifts and listens in a daze as the voice cuts in and out.

  “– just – thought I’d – by. Check in – how you’re –”

  It’s a nice voice.

  “– really need you –”

  A safe voice.  

  “– Jon.”

  Wait.

  “– bad. I – how much longer we can –”

  Wait, it’s – that’s Martin’s voice.

  “We – I need you.”

  It’s Martin. Martin!

  Martin is here, he’s here – Jon doesn’t know where here is, but it doesn’t matter, because Martin is here, and – and Jon is so overwhelmed with euphoria that he isn’t actually processing what’s being said. Calm down, focus – focus on the words –    

  “And I – I know that you’re not –”

  Oh.

  “I know there’s no way to –”

  Oh, no.

  “But we need you, Jon.”

  All at once, Jon knows where – when he is.

  “Jon, please, just – please.”

  No. No, no, no, no –

  “If – if there’s anything left in you that can still see us, or –”

  Martin, I’m here! 

  “– or some power that you’ve still got, or –”

  I’m here, I’m here, I’m here –

  “– or, or something, anything, please! Please.”

  Martin’s voice breaks, and Jon’s heart fractures with it.

  “I – I can’t –”

  Jon can just barely make out the buzz of a phone and – oh.

  “I’m – I’m actually with him now.”

  Martin!  

  “You were right.” A pause, and a heavy sigh. “I – will they be safe?”

  Peter Lukas. It’s Peter Lukas. Peter Lukas is still alive, Peter Lukas is hunting Martin, Peter Lukas wants to feed him to the Lonely, Peter Lukas is –

  “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

  Martin, don’t –

  “Yeah. Sure thing.”  

  Martin!

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jon tries to scream, to reach out, to do anything at all, but he doesn’t have a body and he doesn’t have a voice and he can’t See –

  “Goodbye, Jon.”

  Martin, look at me! Hear me, please - see me! 

  He tries to thread a command through the words, but the compulsion doesn't come through, and - 

  Jon hears the rustle of clothing as Martin stands to leave, followed by the soft click of the door as it closes behind him. 

  Fuck. 

   End Notes:

me: i could go into some long-winded exposition about the space-time continuum  also me: OR, alternatively, i can handwave it and say It's The Power Of Love, Don't Even Worry About It

anyway, my gay little heart knows what it's about.

 - Jon’s dialogue is taken from the statements in the following episodes: MAG 146; 054; 151; 139; 168; 101; 134; 010; 037; 008; 019; 167; 108; 103; 146; 048; 013; 146.

- Jon gets some original verbal dialogue starting next chapter. Thought I'd mention it just in case anyone is getting tired of the Archive-speak (though there will still be some of that). :P

- Psst, if you want to read a detour about Jon and Martin's talk about Annabelle and free will and Not Obsessing Over The Web, I wrote that here. (I'm linking it here because it actually originally started as part of this fic but I decided to make it its own thing because my ADHD brain ran with it and it was waaaaay too much of a tangent sdsdhshgh)

[talesofsonicasura]

Diamonds and Voodoo

Brothers and Bandicoots

This was rewritten when I discovered that the document had been nothing but a word salad. This one should be much better!

Taki-Taki returns to Morioh in order to fulfill a particular agreement. Sadly, all she got was her dad walking off, two brothers with daddy issues, egotistical assholes and bandicoot urine on a landmark. Oh joy.

"Yes. I would like to confirm this very information to the Speedwagon Foundation. Apparently defeating Angelo merely revealed a new part of the going ons in Morioh. Something that could only be trouble for everyone living here and maybe even further." Spoke Jotaro Kujo, the man currently on the phone in his hotel room.

Pictures of a now deceased Angelo's mugshot with a report paper taped to the back, another picture of a disembodied hand on a table set with breakfast for one, and a small booklet that read Morioh City's Report. The man could only stare at them with pure concern.

/I wasn't born with this power! No, it was given to me by a man in a student's uniform. He appeared in my cell one night. I was so scared that my balls were in my stomach. In his hand was an ancient bow and arrow, it had to be around 100 years old. Next thing I knew, he shot the arrow into my neck. Saying the reason I survived and got this power because my soul was so strong. If you kill me, then he'll come get you too!/

Information the man had given just before Josuke and Taki-Taki trapped the psycho in his current stone prison. It did answer quite a bit of questions stemming from an incident that happened 10 years ago. One which was entangled in the tragedy of the Joestar bloodline that started over a mere century ago. The blood feud between the Joestars and Dio Brando.

It begun when the Joestar Matriarch, George Joestar, had brought in an orphan boy after this boy's father passed. That boy was Dio Brando, a child whose immense hate turned him into the most vile and dangerous person in the history of mankind. Poisoning George Joestar, ruining the life of George's son Jonathan, becoming a vampire and then stealing Jonathan's body.

Those were some of the key facts amongst a lot of the vampiric bastard's sins. Jotaro then side eyed something at the far corner of the room, a picture frame whose photo was obscured by the distance. Sadness, and rage going through the ocean blue for a few seconds before fading. He turned his thoughts to something else.

"With the Arrow somewhere on the loose in Morioh, it won't be long until the town becomes a horror show. There's also that woman, Taki-Taki Bandicoot, I'll be keeping an eye on her. I don't trust her." His thoughts going back to his previous encounter with the greenette as he looked down on the table.

There were highly detailed sketches of her, Lani-Loli, Toxic and Quill, each marked with key details depending on the individual. The drawings were so accurate, it could be mistaken for a printout if it wasn't for the fact they were made using color pencils. Strangely there was one more sheet next to them but it was blank except for two simple words.

Crash Bandicoot.

"Come on Dad! We're supposed to see Josuke and his dickish nephew today!" The Wumpa Islands, a pair of three tropical islands found somewhere in the ocean near Australia. It was a home to all sorts of peculiar creatures, mystical areas hidden in every place wrought with all sorts of danger and full of mysterious magic. It was also where the infamous Bandicoot Clan made their residence.

N.Sanity Beach, which could be found on N.Sanity Island was a spot for the clan members to enjoy fun in the sun activities. A bunch of floaties with a tube one shaped like a purple dragon next to a volleyball net, a small bar set with seats for 5 and various drinks from non-alcoholic to a few different alcohol, a couch with a makeshift roof made from cloth, and strangely a fridge and TV on the sand.

Taki-Taki, currently by the couch, was trying to put a large hoodie on some... thing? Someone? It or he from the pronoun used stood around 4'7 in height, what wasn't obscured by the large jacket was a pair of blue jorts, red tennis shoes, orange fur covered legs and part of a orange furred lean stomach with yellow at the center. Distressed gibberish coming from the neck sleeve almost if the head was stuck.

Lani-Loli was merely watching the little show alongside another floating mask. This mask looked exactly like the small charm Taki-Taki had given Ryohei but larger with more details such as a goatee made of leaves, larger feathers that were funnily taped on the back, and was alive from the eyes and mouth both curved in a 'seriously?' look. There was no doubt that this particular mask was Aku-Aku.

With a strong tug, the hood finally came down over the large head of a...bandicoot. The almost cartoonish looking bandicoot had large ears, bright teal eyes with hints of innocent insanity, a brown mohawk of hair, a yellow muzzle and large brown bushy eyebrows. His hands were four fingered and covered by fingerless brown gloves.

"I don't know what's funnier: The fact two sane people are meeting Crash or about to learn that he's an actual bandicoot." Lani-Loli mischievously chuckled. Taki-Taki only said that Crash was her father but not about him being BIOLOGICAL. The greenette is actually adopted and the only human of a family consisting of bandicoots, living masks and other oddities.

"To be fair, she has been listening to my advice about being limited to her origins. Although from what I heard about your last encounter in Morioh, caution should still be advised. This is a whole new world we stumbled upon and there are rules to follow." Aku-Aku's deep, powerful and wise voice sent a clear message to everyone.

None of them had much knowledge about Stands but do know the consequences of their own powers, the mystical energy they wield known as Mojo. It was an ancient source of magic that not only fueled voodoo but all branches of sorcery. Something that could cause unimaginable damage if abused.

Mojo was what made Crash who he is, the powers that Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku have, and what Taki-Taki is learning to master but also the consequences if abused that made creatures like Quill and Toxic. Creatures with great power but have the potential to cause devastation if they run amok: Titans.

If that Stand granting Arrow is being constantly misused and what powers a Stand could potentially manifest, Morioh wasn't as safe as it should be. And there might be its own Titans lurking in the shadows. For now, their true nature needed to be limited whenever visiting the town lest the situation could become worse.

Who knows what kind of horror can manifest if Mojo mixed with a Stand?

The Higashitaka household was a bit offbeat nowadays. Due to the recent 'stroke' that the older matriarch had suffered, the aura of the home for the family of three was a bit rugged. Ryohei had been laid off of his work for a bit as both his employers and fellow officers were worried about the man's health. He was what kept the force happy and ready to go.

Thus he was stuck at home being looked over by his daughter Tomoko and grandson Josuke from time to time. Taki-Taki was currently standing by the door with her father Crash next to her. Her face was obscured by the large hood of his jacket. Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku were currently hidden in Taki's jacket so they wouldn't be seen.

She knocked on the door politely despite how loud it sounded. "Hold on!" A woman's voice fires back in an instant. In a few seconds, the door was opened by a young woman who both father and daughter could guess was Josuke's mother. Josuke definitely got his soft face and beauty from her but Ryohei's kindness was there too.

Her hair was violet and short, eyes a similar baby blue to Josuke but more fiery, she was slim though there definitely was some muscle hidden by her yellow shirt and dark jeans. "Hello! Are you Josuke's mom? He does have your looks and you do look a bit like Mr Ryohei." Her odd deduction had the purplette surprised for a moment.

Then hearing her father's name was enough to put two to two together. "You're right, I'm his mother Tomoko and Ryohei is my father. Are you by chance Taki-Taki Bandicoot? I heard about you from my dad and son. Dad was right about you being adorable. Whose this with you?" Her voice, although soft and kind, held a ferocity behind it. Josuke's fiery temper had to come from someone.

"This is my dad, Crash. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, I couldn't get home for a few days. Josuke let me stay here until I got back but under the condition that he had to talk about my stay with pops." Tomoko easily remembered her son mentioning that when she had gotten back home later that day.

Although she couldn't help but look at the figure that was Taki's father. There was not a single facial feature to make out due to the darkness of the large hoodie he wore but it was his hands that drew flags. Was the orange section part of the gloves and did he lose a finger in an accident? The hands were very odd and that orange part had a texture that looked more fur than leather or latex. Still...

"I'm sorry to say but Josuke had left for school today. Luckily he should be out by now. He attends Budo-ga Oka which isn't that far from Angelo's Rock, the new landmark which recently popped up." Taki-Taki immediately knew what she was talking about. It was near the place where that adorable turtle in the makeshift pond lived at. Shouldn't be too hard to find.

The Haunt House, an eerie landmark of sorts located near the recent Angelo's Rock. This large home could be recognized from the various broken windows that were either without glass or boarded up haphazardly, old paint that chipped away from even the gentlest of breezes and the vine covered gate with the tilted door marked by a 'No Trespassing' sign.

It was called the Haunt House from the feeling of being watched or the eyes of something watching in the shadows of the window whenever someone walks by. Police often patrolled the place for squatters due to these particular sightings and reports. Coming to the backyard strangely enough was the hoodie form of Crash Bandicoot.

From the glimpse of marsupial's green eyes and lack of companions, it was clear that he was lost. He let out a rumble of pure gibberish obviously annoyed. 'Maybe I should've stayed at that rock weirdo… Then again, Taki probably might not be happy to know I no longer have to go.' Crash let out an impish chuckle. Just because he was evolved doesn't mean he stopped 'marking his territory'.

'Dad, I need you to stay here with Angelo for me. If Josuke still isn't at school, then he'll most likely come through here to get home. It shouldn't take long for us to come back.' His daughter's words echoing in his head.

He felt a bit ashamed for not listening. It just he wasn't used to standing in one place for so long if it didn't involve napping. The bandicoot had a silly smile thinking about a nice snooze in his hammock after a nice slice of Wumpa Fruit pie. The little daydream was popped by the sound of soft skittering that hit his large furry ears.

Crash looked up before tilting his left ear towards the creepy house. The sound had to be somewhere in the upper levels from how it reverberated through the walls. Whatever made it was too big for an insect or small cat to do. Spying an open window with the least amount of boards, the bandicoot giggled to himself as an idea came. Little claws popped from the marsupial's fingers with a simple flex before he leapt onto the wall. Once the talons had a good grip, Crash climbed up the house wall and slipped in through the empty window pane.

"Motherfucker!" "Language!" Heterochromia eyes could only glare at the currently shivering stone convict. Taki had gone over to the school Tomoko mentioned after requesting her dad to stay put. Sadly, they couldn't find any sign of Josuke and looking for Jotaro was impossible without the pompadour prince's help. After visiting the little turtle in the pond, the greenette and her mask companions backtracked to the landmark.

Yet, her mutant bandicoot father was nowhere to be found and a foul smelling puddle was now present on the rock's lips. Normally something as gross as this got her laughing but at the moment the witch doctor was just annoyed. "Guess we were gone for a bit too long. Patience isn't something Crash normally has these days." Lani-Loli said while looking at the wet spot in distaste.

None of them should be surprised that the bandicoot would wander off somewhere. Luckily or disgustingly, there was a scent that could be used to find their lost marsupial. The witch doctor went into her jacket pocket to pull out a small vial that contained a soft luminous blue liquid. Taking off the small cork, Taki downed the tube's contents in a single gulp.

After placing the empty glass tube back in the pocket, the witch doctor then reached into the dinosaur skull she wore. Her hand pulled out a small peculiar object that was hidden in her bone headwear. It appeared to be a fang of some sort but was too thick, too large, and oddly too sharp to belong to any normal animal. Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku exchanged looks then quickly getting a few feet from Taki before she devoured the tooth with gusto.

In an instant, her eyes narrowed into slits and tattoos blazed to life in burning blue. She suddenly hunched down as if in pain followed by the sound of beastial snarling. The statue could only stare in perpetual terror upon the morphing shadow that started to cascade over him. Tears pouring from the frozen orbs from the sight of what could only be best described as a monster.

A distorted scraping noise ripped through the ominously quiet neighborhood before it was quickly followed by the sound of shattering pavement. This ruckus came from the front of Morioh's Haunt House for a battle was being waged at its steps. One of the fighters was Josuke whose uniform was dirtied up a bit along with a few scratches on his face. It was the least of his worries though.

Standing in an defensive position was another teenager around his age and size, a male Stand User from the bright fiery blue aura that flared his form. He had the look of a punk, shaved black hair that looked gray with a mini pompadour which sat at the mods, his eyes that seemed to only have impish pupils alongside a thin but large X-shaped scar or line pattern on his head.

The punk wore a modified blue gakuran with multiple gold pins shaped like money symbols on the fabric. "I won't say this again. Okuyasu Nijimura, you better let me through you bastard! Koichi isn't part of whatever bullshit your up to!" Josuke snarled at his opponent with hot daggers in his baby blue eyes.

The now named Okuyasu merely let out an impish chuckle before speaking with a rough and ruggish voice. "Sorry pal but you'll have to go through me first! Come closer and greet The Hand!" Almost on cue, a white hand with two bulbous baseball patterned protrusions on the palm came from behind the teen's head. The pomp prince quickly jumped to the side as the appendage swatted at his previous position instead, the 'No Trespassing' sign.

Alarms bells went through his head upon noticing the sign wasn't destroyed but it wasn't the same either. The text looked...too short almost if something was missing or had disappeared. It then clicked upon another glance of the item. "That sign! It used to say 'No Trespassing' but now it only says 'No passing'! Your Stand scraped the 'tres' away!"

Josuke's deductions caused his opponent's smile to grow malicious. The spectral arm next to the young man transitioning into something larger. In seconds that limb had fully materialized its true form, a white humanoid puppet outlined by blue armor bearing gold money symbols. The puppet shared a similar build to his master, its colorless hide sharing the same hardened texture of the armor, and his head was held in a white pail bucket that obscured part of its yellow lined eyes and the almost expressionless lips.

"That's right Josuke! My Stand can scrape away anything that it's right hand touches before closing the missing space together. I don't know where it goes or even if it still exists anymore but I do know you'll be sure to follow!" The Hand then scraped the air as a green tear rips right through the dimension. It immediately shuts closed in seconds as the purplette soon found his opponent in front of him at the same time.

He had used the created tear to close the distance between them. Okuyasu held his fist back almost about to speak when… the sound of whistling flew over their heads as a blast of glowing pink had sent Josuke's attacker airborne upon striking his Stand in the chest. The pompadour prince only had the time to blink before a pair of animalistic heterochromia eyes looked back at his.

What stood before had to be one of Taki-Taki's creatures, nothing could have been as odd or mystical like they strangely were. However this one felt off in a familiar sort of way. The creature looked like a bipedal almost anthropomorphic fox. It was monstrous with spindly long arms paired with black paws that held sharp claws, limber and lean build that was perfect for predatory stealth, the face was foxish but could be mistaken for a coyote or cougar from the longer ears and snout, and there were large purple parrot feathers on its back in a leafy plumage manner.

The off signs came from the tattoos around its arm that looked too much like Taki-Taki's, the greenish short hair on its head and the dinosaur skull… It immediately clicked on what or who had just defended his bacon. "Holy shit. Taki-Taki, is that you?" His query being answered upon a large prickly tongue licking his face courteous of the 9 ft beast that once was a human girl.

Josuke's face turned beet red and he honestly couldn't say if it was in disgust, embarrassment or touched by the sticky dog kiss. "Josuke?!" He whipped his head to see Lani-Loli flying over to the two but immediately stopped from the sound of hyena/wolf growling. Eyes were on the now standing Okuyasu who then looked flabbergasted by the new faces.

"What the hell?! Is one of those things that scrawny munchkin's Stand?! Or some sort of monster? No matter, The Hand will scrape you all out of existence!" His Stand manifesting once more with the right hand ready to erase even more space. Sadly, he didn't anticipate what particular creature the greenette was.

Letting out a loud hyena-like cackle Taki threw a large but fast pink orb of energy straight from her hand. It was a glowing magenta torpedo that clipped through the side of the Stand's right wrist in seconds. Okuyasu howled in pain from a chunk of his right wrist exploding outward almost if his body was mirroring the Hand's injury.

"The Snipe, a predatory beast that hunts its targets with high speed projectiles and is a close range fighter's worse nightmare!" Lani-Loli spoke while watching the green haired beast pounce at the off guard teen. Her feet instantly knocked the air out of Okuyasu's chest which forced his Stand to vanish from the lack of breath. He could only look up at the large drooling teeth of the angry beast that currently had him pinned down in fear.

His eyes quickly shut almost if waiting for the end only to scrunch his face in confusion by a soft touch. With a small peek, the young man was greeted to the sight of the large monster's forehead gently pressed against his own. A strange sensation going through his mind in a second before it- no she looked back at him with sympathy.

Taki then looked over to Josuke and Lani-Loli before the feathers on her back started glowing in strange patterns. The purplette was confused by the odd signals but the Quantum Mask knew what it meant. It was a sign of Morse Code Taki had developed for this form. "Josuke! Heal him, this guy isn't your enemy! Apparently he has a reasonable story behind this attack! Something involving his father!"

Lani-Loli's words made Okuyasu's eyes widen in realization. "You...went through my head? You saw the 'thing'." That last word practically quivered in silent despair and sorrow. Taki merely nodded her head before getting off the teenager. She quickly stalked towards the Haunt House. The harsh stench of blood hit her nose full force which turned a small crawl into an urgent run.

Her predatory eyes immediately ignored the man in the darkness for the childlike teenager that was slowly dying on the ground. He had short well groomed silver hair, light almost pasty skin and wore a plain green gakuran but his blue eyes were slowly becoming lifeless from the nasty arrow wound in his neck. Taki knew he would die if he wasn't treated.

"How curious. You the child's Stand or perhaps belong to-" The female Snipe growled before nonchalantly tossing a blast of pink at the unwanted pest. The man must've scurried out of the way from the sound of wood exploding to chips. Knowing there wasn't going to be an interruption, Taki reached for one of her feathers and plucked it off her back.

Holding the item in hand, she let out growls that sounded close to a chant as the piece of parrot plumage began to glow a soothing green. Taki crushed the feather in her hand as it broke into verdant stardust before pouring the powder over the large gouge on the boy's neck. The large wound immediately glowed a vibrant emerald as it steadily shrank. In seconds, the large gash was gone and the young man's eyes regained its vivid color once his breathing had steadied.

He blinked once more before blue eyes settled on the large beast hovering above him. A normal reaction to the sight was to scream but instead he felt his neck and noticed that his injuries were completely gone. Taki definitely knew he was a calculative and reasonable type since he put two to two together. "You...saved me." Despite the youth in his voice, the slight baritone was enough to solidify that this was a teenager and not a child.

"Koichi!" Josuke bursted into the house alongside Lani-Loli and oddly a determined Okuyasu who was following from behind. The punk looking teen no longer had any rips on his clothing or flesh, almost if everything was returned to their previous state. "Big brother, you need to stop right now! These guys can help us! Help d-" He was cut off when Taki quickly got in front of him.

Multiple tiny holes manifesting on her hide and feather plumage as if she was hit with bullet rounds from a tiny minigun. The puncture wounds weren't deep enough to draw blood since she wasn't human at the moment but… they had enough strength to disfigure a normal person like blood swiss cheese.

Taki snarled at the attackers, no, attacker to be precise. The ones to fire the barrage of nasty tiny bullets was an entire shooting squadron that consisted of toy army sized men. Same military clothing but the faces covered in white taping, eyes just beady red headlights and a thick flame of blue around them.

When the witch doctor like this, the number of magic she could use was limited but made difficult spells like mind reading or healing very easy. Okuyasu's memories told her what exactly she was dealing with. The platinum blonde teenager slightly older than Okuyasu, his older brother Keicho and his Stand, a mini army known as Bad Company.

"Big brother…" Was all the younger brother could say upon realization that the attack was aimed for him. Taki gave the three human males behind her a look. 'He's mine.' None of them said a word of disagreement. Knowing what was about to happen, Lani-Loli took it upon himself to get Josuke and his two accomplices away from the approaching battle.

The three humans and mask vanished in a sudden puff of wispy blue smoke. Taki-Taki's sharp nose told her that her friend had taken them to the higher floors of the house. A safe place which made the monstrous witch doctor happy for they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. She then turned her head to snarl viciously at Okuyasu's older brother.

"I can only guess that little mask has the power to teleport others. No matter, it won't take long for my Bad Company to find them once I finish you off. Then your friends will be next." Keicho's threat was backed further when a swarm of mini helicopters manifested in the air. "Fire!"

The Snipe quickly sprinted into a run as the mini army fired their payloads in the form of raining bullets and mini missiles. Wood chips, glass shards, and furniture stuffing erupted in a trail that hounded the quick Taki-Taki, avoiding the deadly miniature ammunition with impressive. She leapt onto the ceiling fan and flung herself into the air whilst throwing another blast of pink energy from her claws.

A large chunk of soldiers and a few helicopters exploded into magenta tinted flames from a successful hit. However, their owner didn't seem to suffer any sign of damage despite the destruction of his soldiers. "Sorry but my Bad Company is a remote Stand. Destroy all the soldiers you want, you can't harm me!" Keicho's words caused even more miniature men to manifest but these ones were operating tanks now!

Taki knew she couldn't fight here with so many weapons aimed at her hide. She would run out of steam before her opponent did. An idea then clicked into Taki's skull which propelled her to make a quick turn. She tossed a few more explosive shots at the tiny army as she ran. Every bullet was a bullseye as even more of Bad Company's soldiers went up in magenta smoke.

Her opponent quickly caught onto what the larger puffs of smoke that slowly filled the room were. "A smokescreen?!" Eyes looking to find the obscured beastie that ran up the stairs and he quickly glared. "After it!" Multiple tiny helicopters manifested to hound their fleeing target as the blonde followed in pursuit.

On the top floor of the Haunt House, Josuke was currently glaring daggers at a certain blue mask. The sounds of an explosive scuffle happening under his feet and a set of blue spectral chains that kept the door of their current location shut. "Lani-Loli, let us out!"

Despite the pompadour prince's demand, the Quantum Mask only shook his head in nervous defiance. "N-no way! You'll be either swiss cheese from gunfire or human flambe by blasts of Mojo! It's suicide!" Lani-Loli fired back with force despite his slight stutter. Of course, the mask flinched when Crazy Diamond manifested with a snarl on his face.

The only ones not getting involved in the potential scuffle was Okuyasu and Koichi who sat on the bed at the opposite side of the room. In the silver haired teen's hands was a yellowish pale egg with green stripes but also radiated a faint verdant aura. A Stand or Stand Egg that had manifested from Koichi's throat once getting into the room.

"I don't care if Taki can become one of those beasts like Quill or Toxic. She needs backup if her opponent's an army!" The large armored Stand clenched his fists as if ready to let loose a punch any second. "That's enough!" An aged voice immediately had the three teens raise their guard to the point even Okuyasu's The Hand manifested next to his master.

Coming through one of the half sealed windows was Aku-Aku whose appearance made whatever fight in either Josuke or Crazy Diamond vanish. "Aku! Where were you?! First Crash went puff then you go awol on us!" Lani-Loli was quickly hushed by a single look from his companion. Glowing yellow eyes then looked at the other members of the room.

"I had a feeling you were in quite a pickle so I went to find Crash first. He's somewhere in the house on the top floor waiting for you. As for Taki-Taki, her opponent is about to walk right into her 'tripwire'." Aku spoke as his gaze fixated on Josuke and his stand. The pompadour youth speaking up in confusion. "Tripwire?"

The tiki-esqe mask nodded in response at the inquiry. "Correct. Snipes are powerful long range fighters especially in confined spaces like this. Their biggest advantage isn't their ability to blast opponents with magic." A smirk then crossed Aku-Aku's face as if knowing the outcome of the ongoing battle.

Taki-Taki continued her trek up the house as Keicho and his forces relentlessly pursued the female. Every time a soldier or copter was in sight, the greenette blasted it with a pink energy shot before she took the chance to flee further. Her running however came to a halt once she reached a mostly clean room. Not a single shred of furniture or anything to hide the witch doctor's large form in sight.

"Got you now." Keicho's voice echoed through the room for hundreds of small soldiers filled it in seconds. Tanks slipping in from the vents, helicopters pouring from the open windows, armored humvees riding up from the stair railing and their owner walking in from the staircase. Taki-Taki wasn't to blind to the fact she was boxed in.

"I'll admit you're quite the fast runner and a nasty sniper. Sadly, this is the worst place for something as large as you. However, my Bad Company can thrive throughout our home base. I suggest you be a good beast and stay down." The older teen deviously chuckled as he stared down at the beast. His laughter quickly died in seconds when he noticed Taki-Taki was now smiling. A smile that revealed razor sharp fangs in a cunningly vicious way.

"It's the ability to set traps is what makes the Snipe a very dangerous Titan to fight."

Bits of pink began to lit up in sections of the room. Her opponent's eyes flickering to the source before they expanded in pure horror. Each light was coming from one of his soldiers in every group. Not even the quadcopters, tanks or humvees were unaffected. The horrifying part was the lights were blinking and were becoming faster per a second. 'Checkmate.'

The house shook hard as a loud explosion ripped throughout one of the floors, smoke tainted with hints of sparkling pink came pouring from the broken windows. In the large mist, the sound of coughing growls turned into pained ones as the large beast obscured shrunk in the purple haze. The remainder of the colorful screen filtered out as the now human Taki-Taki looked down at her fallen opponent.

Keicho was unconscious, bruises and burns covering his face and arms, platinum locks singed slightly black while billowing bits of smoke poured from the strands of hair and his uniform was charred with multiple holes through it. "The Phantom Bomber, a nice Snipe technique which lets undetectable bombs get planted on the enemy. The more collected in one spot, the bigger the boom." She walked over and hoisted the teen on her shoulders without a hint of strain.

Climbing up the stairs, the greenette could hear the voices of her friends from above. With some pep in her step, Taki ran up the stretch of stairs as the unconscious Nijimura brother shook and bounced. It didn't take long for heterochromatic eyes to stare back at a pair of baby blue. Everyone but her father was gathered outside of one specific door.

That door having the sound of familiar babble from behind its wooden threshold. "Taki-Taki! You're okay?!" Josuke looked ready to hug her if he didn't catch sight of Okuyasu's injured brother slung over the greenette's shoulder. "Big brother!" The teen quickly rushed over to his sibling. "Don't worry. He's alright albeit beaten up. Plus, his ego needed a nice kick so common sense can walk back in." The witch doctor chuckled, smiling with her tongue out.

Before anyone could go through the door, a particular situation needed to be handled first. A soft gold aura from Crazy Diamond enveloped the wounded platinum blonde in its soothing embrace. Wounds and damages done to both flesh and clothing vanished in seconds as the teen slowly woke up.

Keicho looked at all the faces surrounding him before he settled to glare at the woman who was the large beast from earlier. "You're lucky I'm a merciful person and you care about your family more than you let on. So, how long has your dad been cursed?" Taki-Taki's words surprised everyone but Lani-Loli, Aku-Aku and Okuyasu for obvious reasons.

There was a reason why the Nijimura brothers, well mainly Keicho, were using the Stand Arrow to create Stand Users. It was for the sake of their father. From Okuyasu's memories, their father had gotten into 'bad' connections with Dio. A deal of sorts that had more consequences than the man had thought. Upon Dio's death, bits of the vampire's flesh that were implanted in their dad had triggered a transformation of sorts.

A being unable to speak and unable to die that skittered through the halls of their home like a mouse for years. "Are you capable of giving him his eternal rest? We've been searching for someone that could extinguish that mindless 'thing' who used to be our father." His plea shook with pure desperate hope and sincere sorrow.

Reasonable for spending years in a house with a monster that was once your father, especially one mistaken for being mindless. "Have you noticed something odd about your home right now?" The question from the witch doctor was enough to widen the eyes of both brothers. It was the lack of skittering from something large that constantly moved through the house.

"Your father isn't mindless or gone. He's still there." Taki-Taki then opened the door to the room. Everyone was greeted to the appearance of a particular marsupial talking to an odd kappa-like creature. The being had thick green skin, slightly deformed from the lumps on his body such as the head or fingers, what appeared to be a beak for a mouth and wore worn clothes such as a white shirt and black shorts.

This had to be the Nijimura brothers' cursed father but what was strange is that he was showing a hoodless Crash something. An old photograph from the slight yellow coloration that showed a man and two very familiar young children smiling at the camera. The two were conversing in unintelligible babble but both clearly understood the other.

"That's our old family photo… He was searching for the photo of what he used to be…" The fact from Okuyasu's lips was enough to paint the picture for them. Despite the vast deformity, their father still remembered them, of their family before it all went to hell. The other oddity in the room finally hit everyone unaware of it.

"What's with the giant animal? It looks like an eastern barred bandicoot...if it was a living mascot costume." Koichi's question was paired with him pointing at the large marsupial. "Seriously dad? If you want to make friends then tell us instead of going into some rando's house after peeing on a town landmark."

The comical looks of eyeballs about to pop out from their sockets and jaws dropping to the floor made the greenette wish that she brought a camera seeing everyone's face. It was even funnier that the pompadour prince's hair looked ready to pop from the intensity of his utter shock. Surprisingly, Josuke was the first to get his speech back.

"T-that's your dad?! H-h-how?!" Now that done it for the greenette began laughing upon the purplette's insinuation. "Hahahaha! I'm adopted silly. Crash raised me ever since I was a baby that got washed ashore on his island. He may be a 'mentally challenged' wacky bandicoot but he's still my dad!"

The marsupial walked over and hugged Taki-Taki before placing a hand on her back. His pose and chest puffed up proudly practically screamed 'Yep, that's my daughter.' Strangely enough, it did make some sense about the young woman's oddness. Both Taki-Taki and Crash carried that same energetic weirdness to them.

"Aw. Such a sweet moment. Sweet enough to make me puke!" An unrecognizable male voice immediately had eyes facing the front. Part of the wall was charged with frantic electricity as if something was inside the wiring. It was easy to tell it was bad news from Keicho's sudden grimace.

One of the power outlets immediately exploded outward in large yellow bolts of electricity. The malevolent energy crackling as it began to form into a near physical entity. This new form resembled a bright yellow kappa from the beak and near egg shaped dish on its head with a long spindly lizard tail, thin almost featureless body and sparks of electricity crackling from its skin.

However it was the items it had that drew up red flags for everyone. In this being's clawed fingers was an ancient bow and arrow. The same ones no doubt capable of granting someone a Stand. "Oh no! Is that the Bow and Arrow, the one you guys have been talking about!?" Lani-Loli's cry made the electrifying entity smile maliciously.

"Guess who's Stand has fully awakened Nijimura? I honestly thought nothing would get you to drop your guard of the Arrow but I guess that chick and her friends was just enough! It was almost easy to snatch it with my Red Hot Chili Pepper's power!" The platinum blonde could only growl at his careless mistake. He was too caught up in his pursuit of powerful Stand Users to realize this kind of outcome.

"Do you really think your capable of wielding the Arrow's power? Your Stand has only just awakened after all! There's no way you can wield it properly!" Keicho hissed while the blue aura of his Stand began to flare up. The enemy Stand or Red Hot Chili Pepper merely laughed before aiming his glare on the blond.

"So naive. My Stand's powers had grown while you were busy. After all, you did say those with a powerful fighting spirit can manifest equally powerful Stands. Here let me show you!" It was quick as a bolt of lightning. One second Chili Pepper was at the socket and the next he was about to punch Keicho's chest. Only if a spin of orange didn't jump in front of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' range.

The Stand merely continued its charge only to cry out in shock when a twirling fist hit his face alongside a glare that were both from Crash Bandicoot. Chili Pepper was smacked back inside the electrical socket from the marsupial's Tornado Spin technique as Crash stood protectively in front of the older Nijimura Brother.

"Lani-Loli!" Aku-Aku's cry wasn't missed as the two masks quickly went into action. Both of them focused a bit of their magic that was quickly released in the form of a violent bluish stream. The shot struck the power outlet as the yellow electricity that threatened to return was shoved back inside the wiring so hard that the sockets literally exploded.

A scream of 'You'll pay for this!' followed until the leftover sparks crackled into nothing. "You saved my life… Why? Why help your enemy?!" Keicho questioned whilst staring at the orange bandicoot. Crash mere made a bunch of hand signals before smiling with a thumbs up. It was sign language.

"He said 'No family should mourn for a death that could be avoided.' Sure you tried to kill me, shot Koichi, created an army of Stand Users and tried to shoot your brother's face but you were only being a big jackass so your family didn't have to suffer. Your lives are already messed up as it is, you don't need it to become even worse."

The older teen who didn't expect the response widened his eyes before he subtly began to chuckle. "You all are insane." The sentence only made a stupid grin pop on the father and daughter duo's face. Everyone's attention was soon back on the blown power outlet.

"I fear that this situation has escalated into unimaginable levels. Creating a cure to the Nijimura matriarch shouldn't be difficult for me to find. However, that Bow and Arrow needs to be recovered as soon as possible. I could only fear what kind of horrors it could create in the hands of that fiend." Aku-Aku's warning wasn't lost on anyone.

Things were only to get more dangerous from now on.

I hope this was much better than my original script! There will be changes to some of Part 4's plot mainly that some deaths will be averted like Ryohei's and Keicho's. I honestly felt it was a dick to kill Keicho instead of using the chance to give him some character.

Taki-Taki's Beast Out ability has made an appearance. This lets her transform into any non-human creature whether it is a familiar or by consuming particular materials with a special potion. Kinda like N Brio's potions but more refined. Her magic is mostly restricted along with speech for particular Titans but she gets access to two powerful spells that can be set on a specific form. Her Snipe form having Mind Read and Advanced Healing Magic.

Crash deflecting an electric Stand like Red Hot Chili Pepper isn't so farfetched if you take the Cortex battle in the first Crash game. He's also more of a forgiving person when you take into consideration his interactions with Cortex in both Twinsanity but also some flashback tapes I heard about in Crash 4.

And Jotaro having trust issues is normal considering how many bad encounters he had with Stand Users especially in Part 3.

Until next time folks! Enjoy this Crash Bandicoot 4 Rap by JT Machinima.