#the blacks will take care of the darker ones and j is in charge of the closer to home/internal ones

[padfootastic]

currently reporting deliriously with pain meds and coffee (and procrastination)

but i had this image in my mind that si just annoying the fuck out of all slytherin cos he just keeps fucking with them and they * can't — not really* do anything to him, cause disgraced or not he's still the black heir and they have 4-5 blacks petty enough in their house that will fuck them up in ways that can't even tell how it happened.

sirus and mucilber ( or whatever that dude's name was just remember that's he's always the stupid one for any reason tho) get into a fight and mucilber does some stupid stuff and run his mouth

mucus foolishly - curses sirius with something dark and lethal

Sirius (obviously) - gets out of it and fucks up mucus with 15 creative curses.

james *sirius black 24/7 defence attorney* potter and bella *only i can try to murder sirius* black are now suddenly in cohoots like two kindergarten kids forced to be friends

cos muciber/mucus was stupid enough to whine in common room and James just has this 6th sense whenever sirus gets into a fight.

reg and cissa are researching poison for no reason at all

and Andy is just quietly looking at muggle ways to kill someone without trace cause she's progressive (and because it doesn't show on wand).

and just black family kiddies and James potter becoming unlikely friends cause of (1) sirius Orion black and that's just djfjbf

like this is obviously so crackish but imo, thai shows such a clear picture of world peace that it's just too funny to not use.

like use their power to full and all that yknow—

also snape in end just gives muciber a ticket to spain and be like - here's how you survive black family (not guaranteed)

i’m not saying i like that you’ve had to use pain meds and rely on coffee to get thru things but—

can i request these vibes in the inbox again? like, multiple times? because i am so into this.

for one, mucus is an absolutely fkn hysterical name. i just. Cannot take him seriously

and second. james & the blacks forming an unintentional alliance bc they’ve all started their own sirius black defence squad is so???? why can i literally picture it in my head 😭😭

(like i once talked about how james’ ability to inspire loyalty & devotion is so impressive he could probably be an accidental dark lord but this is just—another way to get to the same place and i love it)

[wanderinginksplot]

Just for Kix

Previous | Masterlist

Vent

"Hey, look who finally decided to show up!" a friendly voice called out as Kix walked into the GAR's main medbay.

"Curl, you di'kut, there's no one else here," Kix complained, though the grin on his face took the sting out of the insult he tossed to his fellow medic.

"Yeah, but the others are on their way," Curl said defensively, gripping Kix's forearm in greeting. Kix squeezed Curl's 104th-gray vambrace in return before helping to gather some of the medbay's most comfortable chairs.

'The others' were the other medics of various battalions. Every few months, the GAR brought some of the older medics back to Coruscant to be recertified. This class was going to be great or terrible, Kix hadn't decided. With some of the brothers he heard were scheduled to be here, it could go either way, but it was sure to be memorable.

Still, it would be good to see everyone again. They had decided to meet here as soon as everyone's transports arrived. Classes didn't start until the next morning, but everyone needed a chance to complain about the idiots they were in charge of.

"Are all the transports here?" Kix asked.

Curl started to say something, but he was cut off by heavy footsteps approaching the medbay door. A large trooper stepped in, his sheer size and the weight of his heavy muscle making the floor reverberate a little with every step. His armor, altered to fit his increased muscle mass, was painted with swirls of 327th yellow.

When he caught sight of them, he bobbed his head and removed his helmet. "Kix, Curl," he said in greeting, his low voice rumbling through the room like thunder.

"Limit," Kix returned.

"Well, if it isn't the most popular medic in the GAR," Curl joked, beaming at the man. "Heard you couldn't keep the females away last time you were at 79's, vod."

Limit's face flushed. "Stop it, Cu- Curl. I get enough of that from my- my own men."

"Leave him alone," Kix chided, shoving at Curl's shoulder. "Keep it up and I'll tell Wolffe you were bullying Limit."

Curl was irreverent, but Kix thought that threatening to go to his commanding officer would make him back off - especially with a CO as ill-tempered as Wolffe. Curl seemed unphased, however.

"Oh, yeah?" Curl challenged. "Maybe I'll tell him you were messing with Limit. He's still mad at you for joking about his cybernetic eye."

"You j-joked about Commander Wolffe's eye?" Limit asked, looking shocked and a bit horrified.

Kix felt an uncharacteristic surge of guilt. Limit was everyone's favorite brother. Disappointing him was like hitting a youngling.

"You didn't have to see how bad it was, Limit!" he defended. "I was scraping black goo out of it. He's lucky it didn't catch fire, and Curl is lucky he didn't have to deal with it!"

"Yeah, but I had to treat your general that one time," Curl tossed back.

"And I'm sure it was terrible for you," Kix said dryly.

The one time General Skywalker had been injured and admitted he needed a medic, Curl had been the one to treat him. Kix had spent his entire career dragging his general into the medbay for every injury, but Skywalker came and asked Curl to all but perform a battlefield surgery!

Curl had been insufferable after that.

"You know better than to make fun of someone who came to you- to you for treatment, Kix," Limit told him, deep voice saddened.

"Yeah, Kix," Curl gloated, beaming from behind Limit's impossibly broad shoulder.

"Come over here, Curl," Kix invited. "I want to show you this new method of spinal adjustment I learned. Only a mild chance of paralysis."

The door opened once again, this time admitting a trooper who wore Coruscant Guard crimson even out of uniform.

"Wow, Ink," Curl commented. "Didn't even bother to dress up, huh?"

"Got off duty an hour ago," Ink grunted. "Didn't want to be in my armor longer than I had to."

True enough, the trooper wore a crimson shirt with sleeves that barely reached his elbows. Wearing civvies to a medic meeting, even one that wasn't GAR-official, was a bold move. Everyone's civilian clothing was open to mocking, and Ink was no exception.

Of course, Curl didn't limit himself to Ink's clothing.

"What happened to your arms, vod?" he asked, seeming to fight a grin.

Ink was known among troopers for his tattoos. Intricate, Mandalorian-inspired patterns traced along the entirety of his back, shoulders, and arms. Ink had been expanding the maze of tattoos lately, and they had now spread down his forearms almost to his wrists. Of course, Curl was probably talking about the spots where messy splotches of color filled the precise outlines of the pattern.

At Curl's question, Ink glanced down at his forearms and shrugged. "The Guard had to investigate a fire on one of the lower levels. There were some younglings there."

He said it like it was a full explanation and - from him - it was. Ink melted around younglings of every species, despite how much he scared their parents.

Kix hid a smile of his own. "How's life with the Corrie Guard treating you?"

"He shou-should be the one doing the treating," Limit joked.

"Hilarious," Ink deadpanned. "Guard life is good. Treated a sprained ankle last week. Di'kut jumped down a level and a half without a jetpack."

"Hey, you know the rules," Curl objected. "No med talk until everyone is here."

"Who are we waiting on?" Kix asked.

"Heeeeeyyyyyyyy!" Shatter cheered, bursting through the door like he had been waiting for an introduction. Sprain followed close behind, throwing his arms outward like he was accepting applause.

"You didn't start without us, did you?" Sprain asked when Shatter finally paused to breathe.

"Just a short story about Wolffe," Limit admitted, looking guilty. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, Limit," Shatter forgave easily, gripping Limit's forearm in a quick warrior's greeting.

"Besides, we've all heard about Wolffe's eye," Sprain added. "Kix has been complaining about it for months."

"Was I supposed to stop?" Kix asked, mildly affronted. "I can still smell it!"

"Gross," Ink contributed.

"Gross? I'm gonna assume you're talking about that sad excuse for civvies," Shatter jabbed. "I mean, I wasn't gonna say anything, but it looks like something a Weequay would wear."

Ink snorted. "At least they didn't run out of dye for my shirt like they did with your hair."

Everyone else in the room chuckled at that - except Sprain, who had a single streak of dye up the back of his hair to match his brother. Shatter's was 212th gold, of course, while Sprain's was 41st Elite Corps green.

"I would be more offended by that if we weren't talking to the unanimously-voted best medic in the GAR," Sprain said, grinning.

"Is it true you actually got Fox to sleep more than five hours straight?" Shatter asked.

Kix perked up. This was new information… Fox was infamous for his lack of regular sleep, and infamously stubborn when it came to setting professional limits for sake of his health.

Ink leaned back in his chair and crossed his color-swatched arms over his chest. "I can neither confirm nor deny that story. Medic-patient privilege."

"C'mon, Ink," Curl wheedled. "No one's ever gotten Fox to sleep that long, especially not an almost-shiny like you."

Ink shot a glare in Curl's direction.

"However you d-did it, good job," Limit congratulated sincerely. "The Commander needs to take better care of- care of himself."

"We're here to learn new stuff to use on the field, right?" Kix mused slowly. "Well, I have a general who likes to avoid sleep. Can you give me some tips, Ink?"

Curl snorted. "Maybe another medic just has to ask."

Sprain, having heard the Curl-treating-Skywalker story before, just elbowed Curl. "Yeah, Ink, help Kix out. Of course, I don't need any help at all, since General Unduli believes in living a life of balance..."

"Shut up, Sprain," Shatter told his brother. "We get it; your general actually takes care of herself. Ink, if the circles under Kenobi's eyes get any darker, I'm going to get called in for dereliction of duty. Help a vod avoid a court-martial, would you?"

Ink sighed. "I can't be specific, but… did you know that certain Coruscant businesses will package unflavored protein powder in stim packages?"

Shouts of laughter greeted his carefully worded advice.

"Is that ethical?" Limit asked, sounding a bit troubled by the idea of deceiving a patient.

With a shrug, Ink told him, "More ethical than letting the Head Commander catch a plasma bolt in his shebs because he's too tired to function when his overlapping stims wear off."

Limit still looked doubtful, but Kix made a mental note of the trick. The general and commander didn't use stims except in dire circumstances - claiming that the Force sustained them - but the captain was known to be more reliant on non-sleep methods than Kix would prefer. And don't even get him started on Fives and Echo. When the ARCs were attached to the 501st, Kix could feel his heart working overtime.

"Speaking of catching a bolt, is it true you threatened to shoot one of your troopers, Curl?" Kix asked, relishing the looks of shock on the faces of the other medics. He had waited until everyone was present to drop that particular bit of news.

Curl looked surprised, for once. "How did you hear about that?"

"I have my ways," Kix said mysteriously. It paid to be friends with officers from other battalions, and his friendship with Sinker had proven it on multiple occasions.

Looking murderous, Limit drew himself up to full height. "You what?"

Curl knew when to get out of the line of fire and took a few steps away from the mass of muscle that was Limit. "It's not as bad as it sounds! Some of the members of the Wolfpack were experimenting with their jetpacks. I overheard a plan to drop a trooper from cruising altitude and have the other men catch him on the way down. I told them that they wouldn't have to worry about the enemy if they tried it."

Shatter blew out a breath. "Your battalion is something else, Curl."

That was the general consensus, if the nods and grunts around the room were any sign.

"So? Am I forgiven, Limit?" Curl asked, his eyes dancing.

Limit clenched his jaw. "I just don't think there is any- any cause to threaten one of your own troopers. Their safety is your concern, and they get enough threats from outsiders."

Sprain looked curious. "And what do you do when one of your troopers refuses to consider his own safety?"

"I talk to him," Limit answered simply. "Last miss- mission, Lieutenant Galle tried to hide an injury from me. When I found out about it, I treated- treated him and we had a talk about the responsibility of command and the importance of being at your- at your best when the lives of your vode are at risk."

"How did he take that talk?" Kix asked. Galle was notoriously stubborn and took criticism extremely poorly.

"He cried and admitted that I was right."

Surprised laughter met that pronouncement.

"Psychological warfare is the worst kind," Ink told him. "I'd rather someone just shoot at me."

"You don't mean that," Curl said, though his voice made it a question.

Shatter raised his eyebrows. "Would you rather get shot at or have Limit tell you that your life choices were bad?"

With a long look in Limit's direction, Sprain shrugged. "I'd go under fire any day."

"And I sup-suppose you all just threaten your men?"

"Sometimes, you can bribe them instead," Curl countered, keeping a steady distance between Limit and himself.

Any attempt at coherent conversation disintegrated from there, as the medics fell into arguments about the best way to handle stubborn patients. Kix fought a grin as he listened to them all. With medics like these fighting for the Republic, the CIS didn't stand a chance.

---

A/N - As a note, stims are canonically injected, but this is a theoretical powdered version. (Go with it.) I know some of you have told me your hopes for a happy ending for Kix. While I'm sure he continues to help where he can in his current timeline, the sequel era just doesn't inspire me enough to write a sequel-based happy ending for him. However, the idea of a medic group chat is one that has stuck with me throughout this series, and I wanted to include it in part here! You already know Curl, Shatter, and Sprain. Limit was introduced in the Bly chapter of Nobody Listens to Kix. Ink is new and got his name from his tattoos (not because of my username, I promise!). I hope it provided a lighthearted end to this particular fic.

Unfortunately, this is the last chapter of this story at this point. Unless I get some new ideas or surrender to my urge to write more about these OCs, this is the end of this particular story. If anyone has interest in a different work about several members of the Coruscant Guard, I have one I'm publishing as my new weekly-updated story (found on my masterlist). If not, no worries! It has been an absolute joy writing for you! Thank you, as always, for reading! Have a wonderful day!

[grabthemhorns-old]

Smut Alphabet - Diavolo

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- very attentive, almost leaning on adoration. Long, laboured strokes across your limbs as you recover; gentle kisses by your ear, your wrist; wrapping his wings around you in a gentle blanket that barely touches, your skin so sensitive, but the action comforting. He’s someone with a LOT of energy, and it takes a while for him to wind down after. But you soon can’t do without his rhythmic motions as he unwinds.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- Diavolo loves his chest. He’s very happy to walk around shirtless, showing off his tattoos. That extends to his arms too. And when you pay particular attention to either, it’s like wrapping a leash around him - he’s yours.  -For partner, it’s shoulders, neck and back. He’s very into Devildom’s appreciation of the back and spine (I HC that the back and spine are admired and desired in Devildom, especially by other species and lower ranking demons who want to attract a High Demon. They decorate them with jewels, tattoos; accentuate the back with specific clothing etc) - especially since he’s the highest ranking demon in Devildom.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- Dia often prefers to finish inside. He loves to feel that connection with your body as he fills you up. But, he also has a big thing about finishing on your back and you cumming on his chest.  Please, hell, cum on his chest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- He likes to jack off in public places.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- Diavolo knows what he’s doing. Being the Prince of Devildom, he’s never had trouble getting what he wants, with who he wants. But it’s always been hollow, lonely. With you, it’s real.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- He loves to do you from behind, clawing at your back (if you’re okay with that), kissing your neck, and letting his wings spread. But in honesty, he loves to let you take charge more often. Relinquishing control and trust to you so he’s on his knees or lying on his back looking up while you ride.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- Diavolo flits between a fierce intensity, and the lighthearted humour that he also carries day to day. During those intense moments is when you can feel and start to understand the darker side of him that you know is there, and why he carries the title of Prince of Hell. You sometimes wonder if he’s afraid to show you it. But during sex, it’s there. You see it, feel it, and coax it out.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- Very well groomed and trimmed. Diavolo cares about how he presents himself, above and below.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- From the start, Diavolo’s intimacy is intense. He’s not afraid to show his romantic feelings and attraction. He wants you to know, to feel, and it only heightens the moment, making you heady, giddy, happy. The Prince wants to make you feel like the Queen.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- He does it quite regularly, and has a big thing about being watched while doing so, and doing it during inane moments like when you’re reading a book, or making a drink or food or tidying.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- Voyeurism, which we’ve covered. Diavolo loves to have eyes on him.  He also enjoys bondage a lot. Especially having his wings bound. The loss of control, the stripping of his status to you is such a turn on. It extends to shibari too. The intimacy in the act something that he especially loves and it blossoms your relationship, as he uses it as a time to talk with you. Quietly, gently, intimately.  Roleplay! Diavolo loves fun, he has a vivid, exciting imagination and would absolutely be up for roleplaying with you. From the simple doctor patient scenario, to something pulled from a human world fantasy show or game where you both play the characters, starting from ‘bumping into eachother’ during the day, and playing out a whole scenario that leads to the bedroom. Diavolo just loves to play.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- Places outside the bedroom are Diavolo’s favs. Tables, walls, the garden(!!), classrooms, office, you get the idea. He loves the thrill of someone catching you both and being seen.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- Touch especially. Diavolo is a very affectionate person, and having it reciprocated as much as he gives is a huge turn on. Strokes along his arm, fingers curling around his shoulder; tapping his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos you know, but can’t see; fixing his hair, squeezing his thigh, while you slip a hand between and inch up, up.  He loves listening to you talk about what you love. When you’re passionate about something - even if it makes you angry - it really does it for Diavolo. He loves people showing their love, especially you. And probably one of the biggest things - laughter.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- As a demon, there’s little they won’t do if you’re up for it ;) Lack of motivation from you would be a turn off - say if you’re only doing it to please him. He wants you to enjoy it just as much as him. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- He loves to please, to hear you moan because of him. He prefers to give, especially if you ask, so he’s sinking on his knees.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- Diavolo’s default is sensual, but not necessarily slow. It matches his usual bright, fun energy. However, there are times he will be rough and fast, when his darker side pushes through, when the claws are out, when the wings snap wide, when he bites.  When you take control, however, you dictate the pace. And he loves when you do that. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Diavolo is a fan of quickies. It ties in well with his voyeur and outside kink.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- Whatever you are up for, Diavolo is up for too. Being a demon, there is very little that is no. Taking risks is part of the fun, and his kinks. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- As long as you can go, Diavolo can go. When you first experienced demon stamina, you could barely move the next day, your body in a delicious ache. And now, you couldn’t be more thankful for it, nor could he.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- Diavolo doesn’t have that many toys. You probably introduce him to more toys, if that’s your thing. Diavolo is a very ‘do things with his own two hands’ demon. And that extends way into sex. He’s delightfully skilled with his hands and tongue, feeling an ache of satisfaction and joy when he feels you climax against his skin. But, when you introduce him to toys, he finds the fun in them. Especially the type you can wear under your clothes and the partner can control ;)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- He prefers to be teased more. Having attention on him from you is delicious, and he wants more, more, more. You both love to play a game of how long he will last. But when you start playing with his chest and arms - he doesn’t last long. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- Diavolo is fairly quiet. Because he enjoys sex outside and in public places so often, he’s learned to keep the volume down. He enjoys keeping you quiet too with a hand, or letting you bite onto his shoulder or arm.  His moans are smooth, sublime, the deep quality of his voice pushing through with his pleasure. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- Diavolo doesn’t mind sharing. He is up for a threesome or more, especially if he’s the centre, the filling, and all attention is on him. But on the flip, he’d love to fill you with pleasure with another, feel you writhe between two bodies, moaning, groaning, as you’re wrapped in wings, in tails.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- Demon cocks relate to their visage. They have scales? So does their cock.  With Diavolo, his cock has ridges in a single line from hilt to tip, with the tip elongated more than a humans - like his horns. His tattoos extend across his cock too, the black lines circling the thick flesh. It isn’t straight up and down, but thicker at the base, then thinner, then thicker again, the texture rougher than you’re used to. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- Diavolo probably yearns for attention more than sex. But that yearning often leads to sex. He wants to be seen, to be known, to be wanted; needed. And when he feels the latter two especially, his sex drive is off the charts. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- Diavolo has often struggled with sleep due to the expectations of his position and life; due to the loneliness, despite the crows. But now afterwards with you, he’s never slept better, nor sounder.  He does love to wait until you’re asleep first though, to hold you close, to feel your fragile beauty breathe against him, wrapped so lightly in a wing, sometimes too scared to touch.

[jackoshadows]

Do you think that Daenerys will burn kings landing in the books? She did it on the show and she has to show the strength of her dragons in Westeros like in Essos.

For the answer to this question, I would direct you to Dany blogs that dissect her story arc using the books. You could read their theories and speculations based on the books and come to your own conclusion on this.

As for my speculations on this,

1. Dany has done nothing so far in the last 5 books that leads towards her going on a random rampage in KL. She has shown a lot of concern and care towards the civilians and common folk of Essos. More than the likes of Robb Stark for example.

2. Dany burning down KL would turn her into her father. This goes against what I think is GRRM’s message in the series -  that the younger generation can rise above their birth and the societal biases against them.

3. That said, I do think that the author means for us to question and speculate, along with Daenerys, if she would turn into her father. This is an internal conflict that the character is struggling with and a part of her story. More on this below the cut.*

4. I think there will be a second dance of dragons between Young Griff/Aegon and Daenerys in KL. Going back to the original outline, the second book of the original trilogy - titled the Dance of Dragons -  was supposed to be about Dany’s conquest of Westeros. There will be casualties in this war. GRRM has been explicit about the consequences of war on the small folk due to the WOT5K.  Robb Stark may have had a just cause but innocent people suffered and died due to his war for independence. Even with Stannis’ march to Winterfell, we see a 14 year old soldier being burned to death as punishment for cannibalizing a corpse because he was so hungry and there’s no food. War is brutal.

5. Dany can win KL without massacring thousands. The Lannisters did it in the books when they sacked KL and no one - not even the honorable Ned Stark - complained about it. She could have done it on the show and won - except, suddenly pacifist Tyrion kept advising against it. In fact if the dragons act as a nuclear deterrent, there will be less casualties. Aegon the conqueror won the North without a single casualty.

5. Westeros is already in a bad way and winter has come to KL by the end of the fifth book. Dany will end up in charge of a war torn Westeros down south. By which time, the North is overrun, Winterfell is lost and the survivors head south. IMO, the Others will not be defeated at Winterfell in 30 minutes like on the show. They are the central antagonists and the last book will mostly be about the rest of Westeros uniting against them. Dany will acknowledge the central premise of the series - ‘ When dead men come hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits the Iron Throne?’  and joins Jon, Bran, Arya and others to defeat the army of the dead.

6. I have no idea how her story will end in the books. Considering she dies on the show and if it’s the same in the books, I would think that if she goes out she will go out a hero and not a villain. There’s a lot of prophecies associated with her and I would speculate that her character is instrumental in defeating the Others. Fire and Ice and all that.

7. And speculate is all we can do, considering we will never get the last book and a conclusion to GRRM’s version of the story.

* Now to expand a little bit on the point number 3 above.

I would like to comment on a line of thought/discourse regarding Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow and Targaryen madness.

I have seen a few posts from time to time making the assertion that if one speculates on mad queen Dany, but does not do the same for Jon Snow, then this is sexism. I disagree.

Now, if one is making that argument that by genetics, Daenerys Targaryen is designed to go mad and she will go mad, burn down KL and die while Jon goes on to be King or goes into exile etc. then yes, this argument would indeed be sexist, IMO. If we are going to speculate based on Targaryen genetics, then, not much is different between Jon and Dany. They are both Targaryens. Dany is not fire proof and neither is Jon. While Dany has some strongly prophetic dragon dreams, there are indications that Jon’s dreams are prophetic as well.

“Sleep came at last, and with it nightmares. He dreamed of burning castles and dead men rising unquiet from their graves”

He has dreamed of Winterfell burning, of Ned being executed, of being told that he is not a Stark by the old kings of winter in the crypts where his mother is buried and of Bran as a weirwood.

Jon’s dream here is very similar to what Dany dreams of:

“Snow,” an eagle cried, as foemen scuttled up the ice like spiders. Jon was armored in black ice, but his blade burned red in his fist. As the dead men reached the top of the Wall he sent them down to die again. - Jon Snow

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper’s rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent.- Daenerys Targaryen

We know zombie ice spiders are going to be a thing. And the armor of black ice that Jon references here could be Euron Greyjoy’s black valyrian steel armor.

So if Dany is going to go mad because of genetics, then there is every chance that Jon will as well.

But from a narrative point of view, the author wants us to question if Dany will go the same way as her father. The mad king Aerys III is a part of Dany’s story. She questions if she is going to become her father. Other characters – allies and enemies – do the same. It’s a conflict that Dany wrestles with as she comes to terms with her Targaryen identity. It’s an obstacle she faces as she takes on both enemies and friends.

"Freedom to starve?" asked Dany sharply. "Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?" Am I mad? Do I have the taint? (ASOS, Daenerys VI)

A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once. (ADWD, Daenerys II)

The old knight did not blink. "Your father is called 'the Mad King' in Westeros. Has no one ever told you?"

"Viserys did." The Mad King. "The Usurper called him that, the Usurper and his dogs." The Mad King. "It was a lie."

"Why ask for truth," Ser Barristan said softly, "if you close your ears to it?" He hesitated, then continued. "I told you before that I used a false name so the Lannisters would not know that I'd joined you. That was less than half of it, Your Grace. The truth is, I wanted to watch you for a time before pledging you my sword. To make certain that you were not . . ."

". . . my father's daughter?" If she was not her father's daughter, who was she?

". . . mad," he finished. "But I see no taint in you."

And then there is the discourse that her enemies start about her being mad. The propaganda that she is just like her father. Propaganda that will no doubt be also used in Westeros.

The clever Volantene swordsman who always seemed to have his nose poked in some crumbly scroll, thought the dragon queen both murderous and mad. "Her khal killed her brother to make her queen. Then she killed her khal to make herself khaleesi. She practices blood sacrifice, lies as easily as she breathes, turns against her own on a whim. She's broken truces, tortured envoys … her father was mad too. It runs in the blood." (ADWD, The Windblown)

Madness and the mad king is nowhere in Jon’s story arcs or narrative themes. GRRM still thinks that R+L=J is some big secret and was so impressed that Benioff and Weiss figured it out he gave them the show. The author does not question whether Jon is going to become a mad Targaryen with a fascination for burning people to death.

Jon’s internal conflicts and the problems he has to surmount are different in nature. He is a bastard born of ‘lust and deceit’. If we want a connection here to the Targaryens that explores Jon’s narrative arc, then there is the Blackfyre rebellion. Daemon Blackfyre’s attempt to usurp the throne is used as an example in Westeros to be wary of all bastards, noble or base born.

So if the speculation is that Dany is going to turn into her father and become the mad queen, then the narrative equivalent for Jon would be that he would be a deceitful usurper who takes Winterfell from his trueborn siblings.

And this is something that is explored in Jon’s story.

When Stannis offers Winterfell to Jon, the only reason he does not accept is because of his oaths as a NW brother and his reluctance to burn down the heart trees in Winterfell. But in his heart, he wants it.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. — Jon Snow, ASOS

Just as Dany wrestles with whether she will turn into her father, Jon wrestles with his feelings of wanting Winterfell and feeling ashamed of those feelings.

His dreams in regards to this are interesting:

The world dissolved into a red mist. Jon stabbed and slashed and cut. He hacked down Donal Noye and gutted Deaf Dick Follard. Qhorin Halfhand stumbled to his knees, trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood from his neck. "I am the Lord of Winterfell," Jon screamed. It was Robb before him now, his hair wet with melting snow. Longclaw took his head off. Then a gnarled hand seized Jon roughly by the shoulder. He whirled …- Jon XII, ADWD

Jon literally beheads Robb in his dreams.

There is a lot of speculation here that after he comes back from the dead,  we are going to get a darker Jon Snow who is going to go after Winterfell and not care much about the trueborn siblings ahead of him in the queue. We could see conflict between Jon and Rickon or Jon and Sansa. The original outline hinted that Jon and Bran would not get along.

And just like Dany faces the ‘Mad Queen’ propaganda because of Aerys III, Jon too faces the biased prejudice against bastards because of the actions of Daemon Blackfyre.  While prejudice against bastards existed before then, the Blackfyres are often used as an example to caution against them.

Catelyn’s hatred for Jon Snow is based on the fear that someday he would usurp and take away Winterfell from her children.

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.” - Catelyn, ASoS

Similarly the Blackfish – having not even met Jon Snow – distrusts him.

"I will permit you to take the black. Ned Stark's bastard is the Lord Commander on the Wall."

The Blackfish narrowed his eyes. "Did your father arrange for that as well? Catelyn never trusted the boy, as I recall, no more than she ever trusted Theon Greyjoy. It would seem she was right about them both..." - Jaime Lannister, AFfC

The existing prejudices against bastards in Westeros is strong.

"Trueborn children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and Mother, but bastards are born of lust and weakness." - Jon Snow

Orys Baratheon was a baseborn half brother to Lord Aegon, it was whispered, and the Storm King would not dishonor his daughter by giving her hand to a bastard. The very suggestion enraged him.

Go away, I wanted only Freys up here, the King in the North has no interest in base stock.— Walder Frey to little Walda Rivers

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father he could as good a true son as Robb Stark -  Jon Snow

So both Jon and Dany face internal conflicts and the author wishes to interrogate if Dany can overcome her own self doubts with respect to her father and society’s opinions of her and if Jon can overcome his desires and personal ambition for Winterfell and society’s opinions of bastards as untrustworthy and deceitful.

If a reader is therefore making the argument that Dany will become the mad queen like her father and burn down everyone – they should also rightfully be arguing for Jon turning against his family for a selfish power grab and essentially turning into Daemon Blackfyre.

Remember how Daemon took the Targaryen sigil with colors reversed – a black dragon on red giving him the nickname ‘The Black Dragon’

Jon was referred to as the ‘White Wolf’ on the show and as per the books, two bastards have reversed the sigils. Jon’s direwolf Ghost is white and he would therefore have a white wolf on a grey background as opposed to the Stark grey direwolf on a white background.

The sexism arises when Dany is singled out for turning into exactly what her enemies expect her to be, while the Starks overcome societal prejudices and expectations and end up the heroes. That, while Dany turns into her father, Jon Snow continues to love his Stark family (i.e Sansa Stark) so much and would sacrifice everything for them.

The show’s thesis and final message for these Targaryens is that they cannot rise above their birth and are exactly what society makes of them. That their final destiny is decided from birth and that they cannot change it no matter how much they tried. Daenerys turned into her father, randomly burned down KL for no reason and massacred thousands. Jon Snow pretends to support her, gets close to her, deceives her and kills her. He becomes a kinslayer, a queenslayer, a traitor – deceitful and untrustworthy and is exiled. It was an utterly nihilistic ending for house Targaryen.

I strongly believe that GRRM is not heading in this direction for these characters. It would be very disappointing if this is what he intends for them. It would indeed be sexist if GRRM wrote Dany as turning into her father, while Jon remains good and faithful to his family. From my reading and interpretation of these books, the story is about these underdogs triumphing over their internal conflicts. The conclusion of this tale would be Dany not turning into the mad queen, Jon not turning into a deceitful traitor, Arya not fleeing Westeros because she does not belong, Bran becoming king despite being a cripple.

But that is the final answer. In the meantime, GRRM means to explore these characters and their narrative themes and conflicts. In that context, it’s valid to question and theorize whether a possible direction for Dany’s story is her becoming her father. Five books in there is nothing to support this theory, but it is a theme that GRRM is interested in examining for the character of Daenerys Targaryen.

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Everything Burns - Chapter 8

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: Talk of addiction, Drug taking, needles, violence, blood. 

Word count: 3778 (Another Long Chapter, Sorry Guys :S)

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Cold Turkey

It was like she was burning from the inside out. Like her very soul was on fire, but maybe, that was it. My she was burning down just like her fathers house, maybe the monster inside was burning its way out. After all this time of having kept it tightly under lock and key, it was finally free. He had released it and left her alone to fight the rabid monster inside of her. 

If she had her way she would of let it consume her, but it wasn't that simple, she needed him there to help her. She couldn't just go out on her own, it just wasn't the same but the monster was roaring and it was tearing her apart. She need his guidance or she free that the monster would not just tear her apart but itself too. 

It had been 7 days since the last time she had seen him, he had dropped her off with a promise to see her soon, she had taken time off of work and so now she didn't even have that to keep her mind off of her growing urges. He had told her to take time off and then have left her hanging, was this another test?

She felt like a caged tiger as she stared at the walls of her small apartment. Had her apartment always been this small, she hadn’t heard from any of her friends for a long time but then again she wasn’t sure she would even notice if they had texted, he was the only thing on her mind now.  Her willpower to not burn down the entire apartment building was wearing thin as her frustrations grew. 

She had taken to talking to herself, it was strange how quickly her madness had taken over, as soon as she allowed it just an inch of wiggle room. Monsters are not made they way people think they are but rather born, from an event in their host’s lives, some of the lucky few will be able to hold off the monster well into their adult years but inevitably it would break free and take over, and when it does you better take cover. This is what had happened to Scarlett. She wondered how long it would have taken on her own had she not met the Joker, but she felt he had somewhat sped up the process. Though she wasn't mad at him for it, she could never be mad at him.

"Its been 7 days. 7 days" she said again to herself, for the fourteenth time that day.

"I must have done something wrong, maybe I said something stupid," she said to herself as she slumped on the sofa.

"Maybe there is another person, another girl, well I'm not his girlfriend so he's entitled to see someone else. Oh GOD! Where is he?!" she pulled herself off the sofa and began to pace again. It was something animals did when caged and just like them, Scarlett felt her mind was somewhat soothed by it. But it never soothed her for long enough, she was a complete wreck.

She had almost killed the delivery guy that morning when he turned up with a parcel. She kept getting her 'costume' on before taking it off again, putting on her make-up before scrubbing her face. She had eaten her nails to stubs so her fingers were now sore, but none of it seemed to matter. The primary and only thing that went through her mind, of every second, of every day was him. 

She needed him more than she needed air, of that she was convinced. She could hear his voice in her head, hear his laugh, see his smile, even smell him. She had barely slept a wink, convinced at any point he would fly through the door, and they would be off again, together. The lack of sleep was probably making her neurosis worse but she didn’t care. 

She focused on every noise as though convinced she could hear his laugh, but every time she found it wasn’t him, she would fall off the edge just a little more. 

She was a wreck both physically and mentally. Her black hair had lost its healthy shine and she hadn't washed it in days, preferring to pull it back from her face in a greasy ponytail. Her skin had developed a strange tinge of grey to it from her lack of eating and sleeping, and her eyes seem sunken and black.

"Why isn't he here yet?" she asked her cat as she crawled onto the sofa towards the animal who scuttled away in protest.

"I just need something to stop me thinking.” she groaned loudly. 

“If I could just make my brain silent for awhile. I just need to stop thinking just for a little while," she told her self as she rubbed her face with her hands. 

If she could just stop her thoughts, she would be able to sleep and maybe she would stop loving him. If that was what this was. Though she had convinced her self-hours ago, that that was exactly what this was. She was in love and it was tearing her to pieces. She needed him, she craved him but he wasn't here and she was not sure he would ever come back, so she needed something to take away the pain. Something to stop her thinking and take away the pain.

"Stop thinking," she told her self but it was of no used and she replayed the last time they were together over and over in her head, glorifying it and him more with each passing minute.

"Painkiller, if I could just get rid of the pain for a little while, just for a little while and I'll be okay. I need, I need... drugs" she said and the confession seemed to engage a gear in her head. She was a nurse and had been for a while, she had access to the cabinet at work, if she could sneak in she could get all she wanted. She had never taken drugs before, she hadn’t even done drugs before. Somehow growing up with a drug baron as a father had put her off of drugs all together, but morphine sounded like bliss right now as she pulled at an already raw piece of skin on her index finger with her teeth.

Without a second thought she pulled on her hoodie grabbed her keys and headed out, she got to the hospital quickly and quietly let herself into the staff entrance. Even this was not enough to get her excited anymore, she had tasted perfection and now she needed more, but she was being denied so she would numb herself instead.

She crept into the area, she knew exactly where the cabinet was and peered around no one was near. She hurried over, she unlocked the cabinet with the key she had and quickly pulled a bottle of morphine and a bag of syringes from the cabinet before stuffing them into her pockets and shutting and locking the cabinet again, her hood still up she crept back through the hospital and out of the main entrance. Relief was only a little bit away and she could almost taste it.

She got home quickly and threw herself onto the sofa, she stared at the little bottle of fluid for a moment before she grabbed a syringe and removed the cap with her teeth. Expertly she turned the bottle upside down with the needle now inside, she pulled the plunger down before pulling the syringe from the bottle. She tapped the side of the syringe before squeezing out any air. Using her phone charging cable as a tourniquet, holding one end in her mouth and the other with her hand, she found the vein and held the needle over it. 

She was suddenly fully aware of what she was doing, and for a second she paused. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard his laugh, and in that second she plunged the needle into her vein and emptied the syringe. Her arm went slack and the wire slipped to the floor. She pulled the needle out and threw it to the floor.

It didn't take long for the drug to take effect and soon sweet relief was her's. She floated away to a happy place where The Joker and she would blow up buildings and maybe even kill the Batman, but they were together and she was happy.

That didn't last long and soon she was nowhere at all, simply floating free of the world and her thoughts and like that she stayed. Time no longer mattered and her thoughts had finally stopped. 

When he entered the apartment, it was dark outside and no light had been turned on inside. There was no sound at all and at first he thought she must have gone out. Her cat meowed at him, he didn't see her at first, but then he spotted a slack arm hanging over the edge of the sofa.

"Jester?" he said cautious, and for the first time that he could remember he felt true panic, she was dead.

He rounded the corner of the partition wall that separated the living room and the rest of the front room of her apartment. Her eyes were shut and she was smiling but she was definitely breathing.

"Who broke my Jester?!" he asked out loud looking for someone unseen.

He spotted the needle on the floor and picked it up with his gloved hand.

"Jester?" he said but still the girl did not respond. She just smiled foolishly, her eyes shut, and breathing shallow. 

"Scarlett," he said finally and one of her eyes cracked open.

"J!" she said happily but her voice was quiet and seemed weak before her eyes slipped shut again, the smile still on her face. He watched her curiously for a moment.

"What have you taken?" he asked and she slowly opened her eyes again.

"Relief," she said simply and he decided he was not getting very far, he put the needle on the side, before heading back over to a very high Jester. He pulled her so she was sitting up and she opened her eyes to look at him and she smiled again, as though she was seeing him again for the first time.

"What have you taken?" he growled again. Holding her face in his gloved hands, his voice darker this time. He didn't have time for this if he had wanted a useless druggie, he could have got one of those from anywhere.

"Morphine from the hospital," she said motioning with her hand weakly, her wrist slack.

"Why?" he growled and she grimaced at his voice.

"Because of you!" she said and a sob escaped her. "I tried, I really did, but trying just made it worse" she cried and she tried to lay back down but he held her tightly by her shoulders.

"Trying what?" he asked as he tried not to laugh at this ridiculous woman. He was getting annoyed now and his manic laugh was about to break free. 

"Trying not to love you," she said and he immediately let her go, releasing her like she had burnt him. He took a step back and she slid back down to lie on the sofa. No one had ever said that to him before. No-one, not a living soul. Love was not a emotion that he was used to or had ever experienced before. He watched as she slumped back into the sofa and a sob overtook her again.

"You love me?" he said not really asking her but rather saying it out loud the words seemed like a lie, but the woman in front of him merely nodded and he took a heavy seat on the seat next to her feet. He stared at the wall opposite for what seemed like hours, his mind doing back flips as he tried to comprehend what she had just admitted. He let out the cackle that was bubbly up, he laughed and laughed until his throat was raw. 

"I just wanted something to make the pain go away, I'm sorry. I just needed you but you weren't here" she said and he turned to look at her, her eyes were sobbing but she seemed content. It was an odd look, a smiling face was tears streaming over her face. 

He stood and moved closer to her so he was sitting on the long part of her L-shaped sofa, her head lying next to him.

"I won't leave you again Jester," he said clearly no more laughter in his voice, and she smiled fully at him.

He let her sleep off the rest of the drugs after that and even allowed her to snuggle up to his side. Most strange of all he seemed to enjoy her closeness. He wanted her close, he wanted her with him. 

Around 11 pm Scarlett finally came to, she stretched her arms out and they collided with something warm and solid. She opened her eyes and The Joker was looking down at her, smirking slightly. So the strange dream about him turning up hadn't been a dream at all, and she had admitted her love. She shut her eyes in embarrassment and grimaced slightly at the hazy memory.

"Feeling better," he laughed and a cackle escaped his lips. She only nodded in response as she sat herself up and rubbed her face, though she felt embarrassment over admitting her love to him. She felt no shame about her actions they had seemed to have relieved some of her anxiety, but then again he was with her again. So that was all a forgotten memory now. The addict had her drug back. 

"Good, go and get ready, we are gonna catch ourselves a Bat. The Mob has hired me and agreed to my payment of half and all I have to do is kill The Batman" he said laughing and she turned to him and grinned. She hurried out of the room, with the speed of a women who hadn’t taken any opiates and readied herself quickly. She went to pull on her Jester hat before she shook her head and threw the ridiculous thing on the floor. Quickly she pulled two pairs of green and purple ribbons from her drawer and pulled two sets of bells from her hat she threaded the bell with the ribbons before tying the ribbons into her hair, pleased with her updated look, she made her way back to Joker.

"Do you have a video camera?" his voice called as she pulled on her boots.

"Err yeah, in the closet in the hall," she said and she heard him push the sliding door to the closet open.

She came out fully Jester in just under 15 minutes and he stood to greet her. He held his arm out to her and a like a girl on her first date she giggle and linked his arm.

Baiting The Bat was not as hard as she thought it would be. They had a fake meeting in a deserted multi-storey car park, with a guy The Joker called Scarecrow, who dressed a nice suit and a odd burlap sack over his head. When more than one Batman turned up she was more than a little confused. 

She stood with The Joker, he was clearly keeping her closer than before, and she didn’t mind that at all. He laughed wildly as he shot the first Bat but the fake Bats kept coming. As one approached further Jester threw out a kick, hitting the bat hard in the chest and throwing him onto his back. She ran at him her heart pounding in her rib cage and pushed the heel of her boots into the bats exposed neck. He wiggled and thrashed under her weight but he was far less powerful than the real Bat and so was easy to hold down. She stayed there until his face went blue and limbs went slack. She laughed wildly and jumped up and down on the man she had just killed, while The Joker’s men captured the other batman, knocked him out and threw him into the back of the van. 

The Joker laughed his cackle like laugh before he called her away and like the loyal pet she had become, she went to him without question. He threw a bundle of cash at Scarecrow before he jumped into their van and Jester followed.

"To kill a Bat, you gotta catch one first," The Joker said as he caught her looking confused at the man in the back of the van in the hockey pads and cheap Batman mask.

They drove to a local slaughter house and Jester felt almost nervous as they pulled the unconscious body of the fake Batman into the building. It was cold and slightly damp inside and The Jokers men left the room soon after they had all arrived, leaving The Joker, Jester and the fake bat alone. 

Jester helped pull the fake bat into a chair and tied him to it. She laughed madly as their hostage began to wake. She set up the camera as Joker had asked her to, and switched on the big strip lights, that lit up the room with a cold white hue. They were in the hanging-room where carcasses of animals were hung out after slaughter there were bloody drips on the floor and the whole place smelled like death.

For a while, The Joker and Jester beat the fake bat but The Joker got bored soon and took the camera from her as she sat her self on the metal steps that came down into the cold room they were in.

"Right Bat we are gonna make a little home movie for the news channel," said The Joker to the badly beaten man in the chair who made no response as his head slumped forward onto his chest, his nose bleeding.

The Joker pressed record on the camera holding it up to film the man on the chair in front of him.

"Tell them your name," he said his voice light and childish.

"Brian Douglas," said the man, Jester knew he was answering out of fear for what the clown in front of him would do.

The Joker giggled slightly as he readjusted the camera in his grip.

"And are you the real Batman?" he asked giggling still and Scarlett stifled a laugh as the joy inside her built up as she watched on.

"No," said Brian his head still hazy from the beating he had received moments before.

"No, No?" the Joker giggled wildly.

"Then why do you dress up like him?" he demanded his voice becoming louder as he pulled off Brian's mask, to reveal the face of a man in his late forties, beaten and bruised.

The Joker held the mask in front of the camera holding it by its ear and shook it around, so that the cheap silicone mask wiggled slightly.

"Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" he giggled wildly.

"Because he's a symbol that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you," said Brian, though his words were brave he still did not look up at his captor.

"Yeah." The Joker cooed at him.

"You do, Brian. You really do" The Joker assured him, his voice becoming dark as he spoke, he gripped Brian's face with his gloved hand and threw the man's head about violently.

"Huh? Yeah," he said as Brian began to whimper.

"Oh, Shh, shh, shh." Joker cooed again as he ran the back of his hand down Brian's face, and Jester giggled slightly.

"So you think Batman's made Gotham a better place? Hmm?" The Joker asked the man slapping him lightly on the face as he spoke before he took a few steps back to better capture the shot of Brian.

"Look at me." said The Joker but Brian made no effort to look up.

"LOOK AT ME!" the Joker barked his voice so loud and deep, it shook Jester off her seat and she stared at the fire in his eyes, the monster in him was roaring now too and it seemed to work as the fake bat's eyes moved up to meet The Jokers.

The Joker readjusted the camera again before turning it on himself holding it above him slightly.

"You see, this is how crazy Batman's made Gotham," said Joker looking straight into the lens of the camera.

"You want order in Gotham..." he began to move around the room slightly as he lowered the camera.

"Batman must take off his mask and turn himself in. Oh, and every day he doesn't people will die" said Joker as he stopped moving and moved the camera ever closer to his face.

"Starting tonight."

"I'm a man of my word," he growled before his cackled filled the room and he dropped the camera and leapt at Brian his knife out. 

Almost immediately he began to cut up Brian's face, making slits in the corners of Brian's mouth. The fake bat screamed and the Joker and the Jester laughed. Jester snatched up the camera and stopped the recording. As she watched the Joker tipped the chair over and began to kick Brian repeatedly in the stomach over and over. As Brian screamed the slits in the corners of his mouth slip up his face branding him with the Glasgow smile The Joker was known for, for anyone else it would have been too much to bear witness to. To Jester though it was like a beautiful ballet and she watched on in awe, the monster inside of her purring like it never had before. Another ounce of her sanity slipping away forever.

After that The Joker killed him and 'the boys' were called back in. He took a safety pin and a Joker card from his jacket pocket and pinned it to the armoured vest of the corpse, before he painted the body's bloody face white and his lips and new Glasgow smile red, before slipping his Batman mask back on.

"Tomorrow morning I want the Mayor to know, just what has happened make sure he is found," The Joker said turning to his men and motioning to the corpse on the floor.

The pair left the 'boys' to it at the slaughter house, smiles on their faces and a blush on the Jester's cheeks as The Joker's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close to his side.

[binary5tar1117]

Cresendo

AO3

Summary: You'd think having two boyfriends would make getting some action when you wanted it a given thing, but when both boyfriends were as busy as you recording an album, it made free time together a hard thing to come by.

It was starting to get to Yoongi.

Tags: Jimin/Yoongi/Hoseok, non-au, unspecified era, over stimulation, blindfolds, handcuffs, mut

A/N: I haven't written in a while and I especially haven't written this much smut in a while so... I hope it turned out okay. I feel like it did. Also... while there is no direct connection and I haven't written Hobi's chapter yet, this could be considered to take place in the furture from my other fic Surrender Love

You'd think having two boyfriends would make getting some action when you wanted it a given thing, but when both boyfriends were as busy as you recording an album, it made free time together a hard thing to come by.

It was starting to get to Yoongi.

Yoongi held the headphones to his ear as the beat pounded in them. His heart followed along picking up speed, and a touch of a adrenaline surged through him. He swayed his head back and forth feeling the rhythm. His energy kicked up when his part came. He was on.

The microphone was barely a centimeter from his lips, the air between them as charged as a first kiss. His lips and tongue moved through the syllables faster than even he could really register, moving with hours of practiced speed till it was coming from a place inside that was both other and his truest self. As he pounded out his verse, the feelings only increased. When he rapped, it was a high better than drugs, better than sex. He was invincible.

His hands moved of their own accord emphasizing the dis thrown to an invisible opponent. He got through the fastest part and barely gasped for breath to finish the verse, hitting each note in time with the beat. His words, his notes, his beats, all coming together. He laughed, cocky and proud at the end, panting a little. And then he was done.

Except he didn't feel it.

“Good job, Suga. I don’t think we need another take.” The producers voice came through the headphones. “J-Hope’s up next.”

It took a second to come back down, his heart still racing. He could leave.

He blinked. “Oh, yeah.” He bobbed his head and mumbled, “thanks.”

He pulled the headphones off and went for the door of the sound booth. Hoseok opened it first, grinning ear to ear.

“Good job, hyung! You're always so impressive!” Hoseok squeezed him on the shoulder as he passed. Yoongi tensed at the contact automatically, his eyes snapping to meet Hoseok's, a snarl curling is lips. The other rappers smile dropped, something darker burning in his eyes. Yoongi tried to relax and Hoseok recovered quickly. “I’ll try to be fast so we can head back,” he said low enough that only Yoongi could hear him.

Yoongi chewed his lip and nodded.

When he entered the room, the producer and everyone wanted to congratulate him. There was always more people around that he thought was necessary, low level producers, friends and girlfriends who wanted to see them record. It was annoying at the best of times, at the moment he had no patience.

“You did that in one take! Amazing,” some guy said. He was older than him but had the wide eyed innocence of someone not in the music business.

“Wow, you rap so fast.” Some girl with too much makeup put her hand on his arm and batted her eyelashes. A too loud part of him crowed with victory and wanted to lead her to the nearest bathroom. Instead he pulled away roughly and walked off.

He squeezed himself between Namjoon and the arm of the couch so he wouldn't have to sit next to someone he didn't know. Namjoon turned to him with a bright dimpled smile and opened his mouth to say something, his face faded to a soft knowing look. He looked away and focused on Hoseok in the booth.

Yoongi bounced his foot and nawed his thumb nail restlessly. His lips tingled and his tongue felt foreign in his mouth, too smooth and agile, flicking against his teeth. His heart still pounded, his body still tensed and ready for…  something that wasn't coming.

He got this way during a performance. It's what let him turn on his other persona, and rap and sing and dance in a way that shy, awkward, introverted Min Yoongi could never do. He worried sometimes it made him come of as insincere on stage, but he didn't know of any other way to get through it.

When he performed, the roar of the crowd fed the unnamed need. It gave him more energy to fuel through to Suga or Agust D or whoever he was on stage. It was a feedback loop that ran until he was stated, the screams echoing to nothing and he all but collapsed into a chair backstage.

But in the recording studio it wasn't enough. He had to flip that switch to record at his best but he couldn't turn it back off without a struggle. They’d been weeks recording and the more often he had to try to pull back, the harder it was.

The world continued around him. The producers wanted his input on some parts of the song. They thought Hoseok’s lyrics would sound better with a slightly different overlay of beats. Yoongi could barely focus. He gnawed on his thumbnail to keep his mouth occupied and couldn’t stop bouncing his foot. Namjoon covered for him, proposing some ideas that didn’t require as much of Yoongi’s input.

Finally the day was over. Yoongi hid in the back corner of the van on the ride home. Hoseok sat in the seat in front which Yoongi was grateful for. He usually liked Hoseok's bright energy or quiet reassurance, but with the way Yoongi felt right now, they would either end up fighting or fucking. With Namjoon and the driver in the car, neither was a good idea.

When they got home, Hoseok let Namjoon go ahead of them and grabbed Yoongi’s shirt to hold him back. It irritated him, he just wanted to go to his room and he turned to snap at Hoseok.

“Wh-” the word didn't even finish forming on his lips when he caught Hoseok’s expression and cut himself off.

Hoseok had pushed his hair back off his forehead and twisted his hat around. He raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing dangerously. The look alone shot a bolt of arousal low through Yoongi’s belly, causing his cock to jump.

“Something bothering you hyung?” Hoseok asked stepping close and leaving just enough space to charge the air. He tilted his head at an angle, more aggressive than flirtatious.

Yoongi’s pent up energy suddenly had a place to go. He shoved Hoseok against the nearest wall, following close behind, planting his hands on either side of Hoseok’s head. He brought their mouths together in a brutal kiss, the force nearly drawing blood.

Hoseok shoved Yoongi away and pushed himself off the wall. He grabbed the front of Yoongi’s shirt and used it to pull them together again, teeth clashing and tongues tangling.

Hoseok maneuvered them so that Yoongi’s back hit the wall again. One of Hoseok’s hands found his and pinned it against the wall, the other gripped his hip hard as they kissed

Yoongi didn't even realize how hard he was till he felt Hoseok cup him through his jeans. He let out a groan, panting against Hoseok’s mouth.

“So hard already, hyung. We haven’t been taking very good care of you recently.” Hoseok stroked him through his jeans and Yoongi groaned again bucking up against him.

Hoseok pulled away after a moment and Yoongi bit his lip on a whimper. “Come on,” Hoseok said pulling him down the hall. "I’ve got a surprise.”

They were probably louder than they should have been in the hall but surprisingly no one was around. Hoseok led them to the room he shared with Jimin. He opened the door and Yoongi was surprised to see it was dimly lit, only a lamp draped in some red fabric on the desk.

He stepped inside and let out a gasp that quickly turned into a groan. Jimin was laid out on the bed naked, a familiar black silk cloth covering his eyes. His hands were over his head in black padded handcuffs that were tied to the head board. His skin glowed golden in the dim light. He didn't say anything when they entered but Yoongi saw him lick his lips in anticipation.

“Surprise,” Hoseok whispered against Yoongi’s ear.

He’d been so caught up in taking in the sight of Jimin that he hadn't realized Hoseok had stepped up right behind him. He gripped Yoongi’s hips, holding him back. “It’s been a long time since we teased Jiminie like this. I think last time we had him in tears begging to come before we let him. He was so desperate for it, begging us to fuck him. And then it was three times, right? Once on your tongue and then once on each of our cocks.” His words burned sweeter than alcohol through Yoongi’s veins. Hoseok brushed a tender kiss against Yoongi neck before adding, “I hope you aren't too tired to try for four.” The challenge was plain in his voice.

Yoongi scoffed. He was more than up for this. “Fuck that, let's try for five.”

On the bed, Jimin whimpered.

Hoseok laughed and pulled his shirt over his head. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Yoongi stripped down and climbed onto the bed. He hovered over Jimin, trying not to touch him.

For a moment he just stared, contemplating Jimin’s plump lips, the line of his collarbone, his dusky nipples.

“Hyung,” Jimin whispered, shifting his arms and twisting his hips. “Kiss me. Please.”

Yoongi smirked. “Begging already baby?” He leaned down and pepper soft kisses along Jimin’s neck, flicking his tongue out to taste Jimin’s skin. “I like it when you beg.” He pressed his hips down against Jimin's thigh so he could feel how hard he was. “It's not a good way to get want you want.” He nibbled along Jimin’s collar bone. “But keep trying.”

Jimin whined.

Hoseok sat down at the head of the bed, stretching his legs out next to Jimin. He was naked, his cock half hard against his belly. “So needy already.” He brushed the hair off Jimin’s forehead. “Good boy.” He leaned down and kissed Jimin’s cheek.

Jimin tried to turn to catch Hoseok’s mouth but he had already pulled away.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Hoseok chided.

Jimin pouted, his already full lower lip jutting out further. Yoongi couldn't resist leaning down and catching it between his teeth for a moment.

Jimin gasped, but Yoongi pulled away before Jimin could to more. He grunted in frustration, his hands pulling at the cuffs and making fists over his head. “Hyung!”

Yoongi laughed. “This is just the beginning.”

With that, Yoongi lower his mouth to Jimin’s neck and kissed his way up to behind his ear. He nibbled on the lobe and bit down just hard enough to draw a gasp from Jimin.

Yoongi grinned, making his way down again. This time he went lower, dragging his lips and tongue over Jimin’s chest, criss-crossing till he got low enough to capture one of Jimin’s nipples in his mouth.

Jimin moaned and arched his back. Yoongi didn't let go, sucking and flicking his tongue against the hardening nub. He could feel Jimin’s abs contracting beneath him as Jimin’s moans got louder. He pulled back and Jimin let out a shaky cry of dismay.

Hoseok slid down so he was lying alongside Jimin. Yoongi smirked at him. “Better view from there?”

Hoseok leaned forward to capture Yoongi’s lips in a kiss. It was more skillful this time, a smooth meeting of tongue and lips. Hoseok's fingers tangled in Yoongi’s hair, holding him close. Yoongi's tongue didn't feel foreign now.

Jimin made a small noise beneath them.

Yoongi dropped his mouth to Jimin’s other nipple, putting it through the same treatment.

Hoseok leaned over Jimin this time.

“We didn't forget about you,” he murmured, lips hovering over Jimin’s. Jimin tilted his head up in response, huffing a little in annoyance and desperation.

Hoseok brushed his lips against Jimin’s, before giving him what he wanted. Jimin sighed into the kiss.

Yoongi bit down on Jimin’s nipple, making him jump and moan into Hoseok's mouth. Yoongi lapped at the abused skin to sooth it.

Hoseok slid his hand down between Yoongi and Jimin to palm Jimin’s cock. Jimin cried out.

“He’s really enjoying that hyung. Think we can make him come just from that?” Hoseok asked, licking the pre from his hand.

“Maybe someday,” Yoongi murmured. “Right now I want a taste of something else.”

He slid further down, leaving a trail of kisses over Jimin’s abs and hips till he settled between Jimin’s thighs. Jimin’s cock was hard and dark against his belly, leaving a puddle of pre in his barely there happy trail.

Yoongi breathed over the shaft, just barely brushing his lips against it. Jimin shivered and gasped. He dipped his tongue in the pool of pre, his tongue flicking lightly against the head of Jimin’s cock. Jimin’s hips twitched up, looking for more. Yoongi crawled back over Jimin and kissed him for the first time that night, sharing the salty sweet taste. Their tongues met sloppy and unhurried. Jimin moaned when the taste hit his mouth.

“Fruits good for more than your skin and weight loss,” Yoongi said when he pulled away, grinning. He could see Jimin’s eyes roll despite the blind fold.

He ignored it and shimmied back down for more, this time sharing with Hoseok.

“Mmm why don't you put that tongue to good use,” Hoseok said when they finished their kiss. He tapped Jimin on the side. “Roll over.”

Yoongi crawled out of the way so Jimin could flip onto his stomach and pull himself up on to his knees and elbows.

Yoongi got behind him and could help the groan he let out at the sight of Jimin’s ass on display, the perfect curve of it with his hole just waiting to be licked and fucked.

Hoseok slapped Jimin on the ass making him moan and bite his lip, a faint pink hand print left behind. Hoseok soothed it with a soft stroke,  looking at Yoongi.

“This is what you needed, right? All that pent up energy?” His expression dared Yoongi to deny it. He didn't. Hoseok leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the swell of Jimin’s ass. “Take it out on Jiminie. I know you can make him come from just your tongue. I wanna see it.”

Jimin whimpered and Yoongi groaned. Hoseok’s words weren't that dirty, certainly nothing they hadn’t done before, but the command in them made Yoongi’s knees weak.

He didn't need to be told twice. He licked a long striped over Jimin’s hole with the flat of his tongue. Jimin cried out in surprise and pleasure. Yoongi didn't give Jimin time to adjust. He spread Jimin’s cheeks and swirled his tongue around the furled muscle, prodding with the tip.

Jimin buried and head in his arms to stifle the moans and arched his back to give Yoongi a better angle.

Hoseok sat back to watch as Yoongi worked Jimin open, stroking himself occasionally. The pillow didn’t do enough to smother Jimin’s moans as he got louder. Hoseok untied the cuffs from the bed and slid himself in front of Jimin, legs spread.

“Making too much noise, Jiminah,” Hoseok whispered, running his fingers through Jimin’s hair.

“I can't help it. Feels so good,” Jimin gasped.

Yoongi smirked at Hoseok over Jimin’s back.

“I know, but it's late and the others might be sleeping.” Hoseok cupped Jimin’s cheek, stroking his thumb across Jimin’s bottom lip. Jimin latched onto it immediately.

Hoseok let him for a moment then pulled his hand away. “I’ve got something else for you.”

Jimin nodded wordlessly as Hoseok guided his mouth onto his cock. Jimin sucked and bobbed his head but was too distracted by Yoongi to focus.

Yoongi had worked Jimin open enough to press one spit slicked finger inside. He slid it in and out slowly, licking and nibbling at the swollen pink skin as he did. Jimin moaned around Hoseok’s cock. Yoongi angled his finger down and Jimin’s cock twitched, dripping more pre onto the wet spot between his legs.

“You gonna come for me baby?” Yoongi asked making sure Jimin could feel his breath against his ass. “You’re so hard, I know you’re close.”

Jimin whined. “You gonna come for hyung already Jimin-ah?” Hoseok taunted, stroking his fingers through Jimin’s hair.

Yoongi pulled his finger out and replaced it with his tongue, spreading Jimin’s cheeks to get as deep as he could. He could feel Jimin’s thighs tense as the garbled noises he was making got higher and louder.

“Be good and come for hyung,” Hoseok commanded from the head of the bed and even Yoongi wanted to comply.

Yoongi worked his tongue and he felt Jimin clench as spurts of come painted across the bed in time with the movements. Jimin moaned loudly, the noise only slightly muffled by Hoseok’s cock.

Yoongi didn't pull away till Jimin's groans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation.

“Hyung, let me fuck his hole first. He's been too distracted to do much for me this way.” Hoseok gestured at where Jimin lay panting against his thigh.

Yoongi nodded as he wiped spit from his chin and side stepped out of the way on his knees. He watched Hoseok easily slide two fingers into Jimin's spit sloppy hole. Jimin made a pathetic noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

“The lube is in the night stand.” Hoseok nodded toward a drawer and Yoongi reached over to fish it out. Hoseok squeezed some over his cock and Jimin's hole and tossed the bottle to the side. Hoseok slicked himself and Yoongi watched as he used three fingers this time to push the lube passed Jimin's rim. As much as Yoongi loved using his mouth, it didn't have the same visual effect, and he groaned along with Jimin to see his pink rim engulf Hoseok’s fingers.

“Ready, baby?” Hoseok asked when he'd moved his fingers and lined his cock up.

“Mmm fuck, yes. Please.” Jimin's voice was wrecked.

Hoseok slammed in and Jimin cried out. He only gave him a moment to adjust before he was pounding into him. Jimin grabbed the sheets to avoid being pushed up the bed, huffing out a high moan with every thrust.

Yoongi palmed his cock, smearing the pre over the slit with his thumb. Hoseok noticed.

“If your tongue still isn't tired...” He reached around to grab Jimin's bicep and hauled him back. It pulled at the handcuffs so he slid one hand across to support his chest. He couldn't thrust as hard in this angle so instead he ground his hips slowly making Jimin whine. The position left Jimin's cock more easily accessible.

“How long do you think he can last getting it from both of us?” Hoseok sucked and licked at the back of Jimin's neck. “Ready to come again for us Jiminie?” He whispered with sweet menace. Jimin whimpered and Yoongi smirked laying on the bed to better position himself.

He grabbed Jimin's cock giving it a few lazy pumps. Jimin moaned and squirmed back against Hoseok, only to moan louder. Yoongi brought his cock to his mouth, flicking his tongue around the tip in slow circles and lapping up the leftover drops of come and pre. He worked his way down, taking Jimin deeper into his mouth with slow licks and flicks of his tongue. He massaged the vein along the underside when he got too deep for anything more.

Yoongi switched angle so he could take Jimin down his throat. When Hoseok noticed, he started thrusting harder, pushing Jimin's cock past his gag reflex and fucking Yoongi's throat.

Above him, Jimin keened and whined. His thighs shook as he built toward a second orgasm.

“Hyung’s mouth feels good, doesn’t it?” Hoseok whispered noticing the same signs Yoongi had. “Gonna come and let him taste it?”

Yoongi swallowed around Jimin's cock trying to relax his throat. He snuck quick gasping breaths through his nose between thrusts. He could feel drool leaking from the corner of his mouth and tears welling in his eyes.

Hoseok looked down at the mess and groaned. “Look how bad he wants it. Fuck Jiminah, he's taking your cock so good. Gonna come for him right?”

His legs shook and this time Jimin went silent as he came, head falling back against Hoseok’s shoulder.

Yoongi gagged and gulped, swallowing down Jimin's come when filled the back of his mouth.

“Fuck you feel so good on my cock when you come,” Hoseok grated into Jimin's ear. He resumed his harsh pace, chasing his own release. Yoongi lapped at Jimin's softening cock, and the combination drew a pathetic mewl from Jimin.

Yoongi relented and sat up to watch. With the space vacated Jimin collapsed onto his front, ass still barely in the air on wide spread hips. He stretched his arms over his head, clenching his still bound hands into fist. Hoseok followed panting and groaning as he came.

They lay there a moment before Hoseok sat up. He slapped each of Jimin's ass cheeks hard enough for the sound and Jimin's yelps to echo around the room and leave faint pink hand prints on his skin.

“Roll over.” Hoseok was obviously tired but there was still command in his voice.

Jimin complied. Yoongi crawled between his legs.

Hoseok brushed the hair off of Jimin's sweaty forehead. “Can you take more?”

Yoongi kissed the inside of Jimin's knee and he shudder from the contact. “You okay for more?” Yoongi asked as grabbed the discarded lube and  slicked himself up.

Jimin nodded spreading his legs wider in wordless invitation. Yoongi wasted no time lining up and pushing in.

“I'll go slow baby, alright?” Yoongi whispered. Jimin nodded.

Yoongi did, rolling his hips and watching his cock get swallowed up by Jimin's hole, over and over. “God you feel amazing all wet with Hoseokie's come in you,” Yoongi murmured.

“And so beautiful, all sweaty and fucked out,” Hoseok added. “I love seeing you like this.” He leaned forward and kissed Jimin, slow and deep.

Jimin moaned, his cock stirring to life again.

“You're doing so good for us Jiminah.” Hoseok continued to whisper praises and compliments between kisses.

Yoongi increased his pace, pushing Jimin's legs higher to get a better angle.

“You feel so good. Fuck I'm gonna come soon. Will you come for us one more time?” Yoongi's voice was more desperate than he would ever admit to.

Hoseok reached between them with a spit slicked hand to stroke Jimin, only half hard. He whimpered, body shaking.

Yoongi tried to ignore the gathering pressure of his own orgasm and thrust harder. Jimin keened and writhed in Hoseok’s grasp looking impossibly desperate, caught between pleasure and the pain of over stimulation. Yoongi could barely hang on but luckily Jimin cried out as his cock gave a few pathetic spurt. Yoongi was right behind him stilling and releasing inside Jimin.

When he was done he collapsed to the side, panting. He rolled to his side and looked down at Jimin. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, there were damp spots at the edge of the blindfold and his lips were swollen, pink and plump. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmured pulling off the blindfold as Hoseok unlocked the cuffs. Jimin wound his arms around Yoongi’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. “That was amazing. You were amazing.” Yoongi said stroking his cheek with one hand.

Jimin nodded, sighing happily

Hoseok appeared with a towel and a package of wipes. He tossed the wipes to Yoongi and started to clean Jimin up. He shivered from the over stimulation.

“You okay? You need anything?” Hoseok asked, and Jimin shook his head.

“Just you.” He smiled tiredly and looked at Yoongi. “Both of you.”

They finished cleaning up and arranged themselves in Jimin's bed, ignoring the damp spots of come and who know what else. Jimin tucked his face against Hoseok's chest while Yoongi curled around Jimin’s back. Hoseok had shut the lamp off and the room was dark now.

Yoongi kissed Jimin's bare shoulder feeling calm and sated for the first time in weeks.

“Feel better hyung?” Hoseok asked over Jimin.

“Yeah, I needed that.” He sighed, at ease.

“I know. Sorry it got so bad.” Hoseok apologized.

“Hyung, if you need something, let us know alright? We want to help.” Jimin reminded him.

“We were all so busy,” Yoongi muttered as an excuse.

“So, we'll find the time of we need to. You'd do it for us, right?” Jimin rolled to his back to peer at Yoongi in the dark.

“Of course!”

“So we want to do the same for you. Just ask, that way we can plan better and Hoseok-hyung doesn't have to send out last minute texts warning everyone we were gonna be loud tonight.”

“That’s why is was so quiet when we got home.” Yoongi realized.

Jimin nodded.

“We want to take care of you the same as you'd take care of us. We love you.” Hoseok leaned forward to peck Yoongi on the lips pulling back to make room for Jimin to do the same.

“I love you too.” Yoongi said with quietly. “I'll try to do better.”

The other two nodded.

“Can we go to sleep now?” Yoongi asked after a minute suppressing a yawn.

They snuggled back into bed, but Jimin wasn't done yet.

“You know, I'm a little disappointed,” he mumbled, but Yoongi recognized a teasing tone. “The record still stands at three.”

“Are you saying you want more?” Yoongi asked, incredulous.

“No! Not now anyway. But you'll have to try again sometime.” Yoongi couldn't see him but he could hear the grin.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a noise half way between a laugh and scoff.

“We will sometime.” Hoseok kissed the top of Jimin's head. “For now, go to bed.”

Jimin sighed sleepily and it wasn't long before they were all sound asleep.

Tagging: @kimlinebiased @wonhojiminie 

[innerpowercounseling-blog]

I Won't Kill Foxes...

I Won’t Kill Foxes in Breath of the Wild

(and I'm okay with that)

I can easily get lost in the kingdom of Hyrule—literally and metaphorically. Playing Breath of the Wild (BOTW) on my Switch, I’m taken in by the soothing sounds of my shoes tapping on the stone and the swishy clank of gear when I run. I’ve spent hours exploring the terrain, cutting through valleys or climbing mountains, looking in every nook and cranny for treasure and Korok seeds. I never take the path on the map.

Within this vast world, and with the aid of divinities and advanced technology, I—in the body of Link—have numerous choices. Combat aside, I can blow up trees for wood, tame wild horses, catch fish with my bare hands, cook my own meals, and move rocks around (not exciting but sometimes necessary). I can also hunt the local wildlife, from mountain goats to squirrels. I choose to live off foraged vegetation, but I have hunted boars or goats as needed and will sometimes kill a wolf if it continues to attack me.

I am not a vegan in the real world. I understand the circle of life and the need to protect oneself, or one’s character, from wild animal attacks. But I do not enjoy the killing of small animals, even in games. I don’t aim for squirrels, birds, or butterflies and I especially DO NOT kill foxes. It’s bad enough that I have to kill wolves when forced, and hear their sad puppy dog cries, but I just can’t do that to the fox.

Unlike wolves and other large wildlife who may charge if you get too close, the foxes are peaceful. They run when they see me, instead of turning to fight. I’ve never been attacked by one, and I mostly see them frolicking in flower fields or playfully chasing butterflies. When they are attacked, the foxes make heartbreaking little sounds, very squeaky, like newborn pups. They don’t even try to fight back; they just turn and run, crying as they go. I killed a fox in the beginning, not really sure of the game mechanics and how much food there would be. My heart immediately broke and I swore “Never again!” So, to avoid a stony heart turned black and icky by the oil of puppy murder, I swore off hunting most wildlife.  

In contrast, I am happy to clear out a band of Moblins and Bokoblins using swords, bombs, fire, electricity, whatever I have. I feel a sense of success when I am faster and more lethal than a Lizalfos, and I’ll proudly take down a Giant Stone Talus or a sleeping Hinox. But I won’t kill a fox. Truth be told, I am not bothered by this. It makes perfect sense to me, defining who I am as a person and as the Hero of Time. According to my moral rules, injustice must be conquered. I am not an aggressive person, but in a world of monsters I think it is appropriate to wield a sword and protect the innocent.

—We could easily launch into a discussion of how to define terms like “moral,” “immoral,” “sinister,” “evil,” “good,” and so on, but that would miss the point of this post. So for clarity, I’m using the terms in their simplest forms because they conjure a clear picture for most of us and we understand how those terms relate to games.—

When I embody a character, I want to give him or her my sense of the world—impart my beliefs, values, and preferences to whatever extent I can. I prefer games where character creation and narrative choices are largely in my hands. When that isn’t possible, I still appreciate playing as a character who shares my worldview in some way. I don’t need or even want to be the hero of my world, but I do like to feel that my presence has a purpose in the game. Link is undoubtedly designed to be a hero in the truest sense of the word—showing courage, strength, and virtue. He is not one of the popular antiheroes, who can sometimes summon enough energy to make good choices in the face of their darker nature, and often still for personal gain. While those characters can also be fun to embody (I like making them do nice things without pay) they typically have a different, more sinister flavor to them, with the message of the games they live in also feeling sinister.

I don’t want a world where we must do evil in order to do good. That does not make sense to me. I want a world where we fight evil by doing good, even when it is very, very hard. I want to be the person who makes the tough but right decisions, knowing that it will save my heart from stony blackness. I am not that person in every moment, but that is what I’m reaching for and I’m glad my gameplay reflects that. For me, it isn’t necessary to play through immoral decisions in order to feel and explore the weight of a wrong choice. I know what wrong choices will lead to, and how they feel. I want the experience of making a lot of valuable but difficult decisions, of being brave when I am afraid, and of being kind when I could be blindly enraged.

When we play video games, we invest our mental and emotional energy in the narrative or characters, often finding that the games become more real to us the more we invest ourselves in them (Bailey, Wise, & Bolls, 2009; Jin & Park, 2009; Lewis, Weber, & Bowman, 2008). We enter a virtual space but we remain self-aware, with some arguing that our moral choices in games still have real implications and that it is our moral awareness that actually makes in-game decisions meaningful (Sicart, 2009). If I go into a game deciding that all morality is out the door, then I don’t have to make tough decisions and nothing I do really matters. Essentially I’ve made the only real decision I’m going to make and there is no need to seek development as a character. I am just going to slash and dash, end of story.

If I choose to engage with my moral center intact, and be a version of myself in that game, then I have interesting choices ahead of me. Maybe I will help the widow, even though she cannot pay me. I won’t murder innocent people or rob them. It will probably take me longer to earn what I need when I could just steal it, but maybe that is how I make the game truly interesting—I survive by doing good in a world designed for atrocity.

Holding it all together, the good and the bad, I love games. I believe in their ability to impact and shape us, and I have hope that in the right hands games can be globally transformative (McGonigal, 2011). I know the power of what I interact with. That being said, I feel really good when I pass a little red fox moving peacefully through the grassy meadows of Hyrule. I am on my way to conquer the ultimate evil, and he is trying to eat a butterfly. The world is as it should be.         

References

Bailey, R., Wise, K., & Bolls, P. (2009). How avatar customizability affects children’s arousal and subjective presences during junk food-sponsored online video games. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 12(3), 277-283. doi:10.1089/cpb.2008.0292

Jin, S., & Park, N. (2009). Parasocial interaction with my avatar: Effects of interdependent self-construal and the mediating role of self-presence in an avatar-based console game, wii. CyberPsychology & Behavior, 12(6), 723-727. doi:10.1089/cpb.2008.0298  

Lewis, M., Weber, R., Bowman, N. (2008). “They may be pixels, but they’re my pixels:” Developing a metric of character attachment in role-playing video games. CyberPsychology, 11(4), 515-518. doi:10.1089/cpb.2007.0137

McGonigal, J. (2011). Reality is broken: Why games make us better and how they can change the world. New York, NY: Penguin Books.

Sicart, M. (2009). The Ethics of Computer Games. Boston: MIT Press. Retrieved from http://ezproxy.baylor.edu/login?url=http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=259281&site=ehost-live&scope=site

Disclaimer:This is a blog, which contains a mixture of my current knowledge and opinions. The information is accurate to the best of my knowledge but may contain omissions, errors, or mistakes. I am a psychologist licensed to practice in the state of Washington, but this article does not create a psychologist-client relationship. I am providing psychological information and my own opinions for informational purposes only, and anything I present should not be seen as psychological, emotional, or medical advice or treatment. You should consult with a mental health professional or your primary care physician before you rely on this information or take any action. I reserve the right to change how I manage or run my blog and may change the focus or content at any time.

[howlnikiforov]

Trespass

Chapter Twenty-One: Blue Moon

Pairing: Hyungwon x Reader

Word Count: 2236

Summary: You would think that one would be able to trust their soulmate, be able to love them unconditionally, and know them better than yourself. But that isn’t always the case. Who was H.One, and why did the universe think you could be soulmates?

WARNINGS: Abuse/torture, swearing, mentions of dying

Trespass Masterlist

Hyungwon’s been on edge ever since he could only see black and white. The colors have come back since then, so he knew you weren’t dead. But with every passing day the colors became darker, more dull, and he was in constant pain. The throbbing never stopped, it only grew exponentially worse.

He had a lead, finally. It only took three months, but Changkyun was able to locate where Youngjae sent all those texts to you. He and a band of fifteen people were on the way there. Maybe they could find something more. It was unlikely they’d find you, but if they found another lead they’d be one step closer.

The men they had captured wouldn’t talk, and when they did, they had no idea what they were saying. Most were driven mad and killed, completely useless to the cause. It came as no surprise really, because these were men who had been captured before the kidnapping took place. YG stopped trying to stir trouble the day he took you.

Jooheon’s men weren’t very successful either. It was like he said, they all died. It didn’t take long for them to be caught, something to be expected from amateurs desperate for money. The money loss wasn’t a big deal because Jooheon got most of it back within a week after their death. It was interesting, their deaths. YG had the audacity to send their bodies back with a note. It was always something like ‘Quit trying to stir trouble’ or ‘Look how bad your men are’ and ‘I don’t have what you think I have.’ It was all bullshit.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a normal house in a normal  neighborhood. It seemed too innocent for the sins that were committed.

The three vans carrying everyone stopped in front of the house, and everyone piled out onto the street. It was the dead of night, and since no one was awake to see them, they didn’t care how messy they currently were. The only thing they might have had trouble with was the CCTV, but Changkyun would take care of that.

Hyungwon led the group, wasting no time in picking the lock of the front door. Once it was open, he signalled for half the men to stay with him, while the other half follow Shownu to the back.

He entered the house, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He was disappointed it was so normal. There had to be a basement, or an attic, or a secret room that had something in it. Two of his men began rummaging through the living room, while another went to let in the other half. He took the remaining three upstairs, letting them branch off into separate rooms.

He was just entering the master bedroom when Changkyun spoke in his earpiece, “Boss we’ve got trouble. The NIS is coming down the street.”

“Fuck,” Hyungwon cursed, immediately leaving the room. “It doesn’t happen to be our guys, does it?” He asked, hoping that on the off chance it was. He rounded up his men, getting them all to gather in the living room.

“No. It’s Red Rose’s dad.” Changkyun mumbled.

Hyungwon was about to lead them out through the back, but the front door burst open and in came Hyungwon’s only lawful enemy.

It took two seconds for the detective inspector to recognize who was in the room, and another second to command arrests. He walked up to Hyungwon, pointing his finger. “I’ve been chasing you for years, and of course I find you here.” He ground out.

Hyungwon didn’t say anything. In fact, he was waiting to be arrested, so he could play his trump card.

“Of course, this is where texts from my daughters stalker originated from too. I should’ve known it was you. It makes sense that you’d take her from me.” Your father accused, taking handcuffs out of his pocket. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you around her neighborhood. I’ve reviewed all the CCTV videos leading up to her disappearance, you’ve been there.”

Hyungwon had to laugh at his accusations. To him, they were so ridiculous because he knew the truth. He knew what he was doing in your neighborhood, and not once was he there to hurt you. It would seem your father was blinded by his passion to enforce the law to realize that. “How’d you find this place?” He questioned, deciding to play guilty a little longer.

“What? Did you think your texts would be untraceable?” Your father mocked.

“Yes. In fact, I know they’re untraceable.” He replied, rolling his eyes.

“Clearly they weren’t.”

“Clearly they still are. What? Do you think I’m Youngjae?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

Your father pushed him into the wall and put his hands behind his back, putting the cuffs on him.

“Evidence shows you are.”

“There is no evidence showing who I am. Although, there is a copious amount of evidence pointing to your daughter being my soulmate.” Hyungwon replied nonchalantly.

“Bullshit.” The detective replied, “Don’t think that for one second I’ll believe you.”

“If you arrest me, you won’t find her alive.” Hyungwon warned, “She’s dying, at this very second, and if you lock me up, I won’t be able to find her in time.” His voice cracked at the end. The thought of you dying...no, he wouldn’t let himself think like that. He’d get to you. He still had

time.

“Give up your attempts to trick me now. You don’t want me to add to your slew of charges.” Your dad spat, pulling Hyungwon off the wall and pushing him toward the door. “And for the record, she would’ve told us if she’s met her soulmate. When I last talked to her, she was upset because she hadn’t.”

Hyungwon through his head back in laughter, though there was no humor in it. “She didn’t tell you beca-” He stopped mid sentence, his knees buckling beneath him as his entire convulsed. The pain in his arm magnified, spreading throughout his entire body. His head throbbed while his limbs cramped. Shownu broke free of the grasp the agent had on him, one wrist cuffed while the other remained free. He ran in front of Hyungwon, blocking him from everyone’s view.

“They’re torturing her right now.” Shownu met your father’s eyes, “When he opens his eyes again, the world will be darker, and Red Rose will be one step closer to death.”

Hyungwon whimpered on the floor, unable to curl up or do anything to attempt to alleviate the pain. He was a pathetic sight to behold. Here he was, a strong leader of the mafia, on the floor crying from a pain that no one could understand.

It could’ve been funny, had the situation not been so dire. He was a powerful man -someone who didn’t let anything ruin him. That is, until he met you. You were his kryptonite; the one thing in the world that could completely destroy him. To the world, he was callous. He was cold and ruthless, incapable of showing emotions (with the exception of malice). But to you, he was soft. He was gentle and nurturing. He was able to communicate his feelings and show just how much he loved you.

“Okay, maybe he is missing his soulmate, but it ain’t my daughter,” Your father clearly did not want to accept that he really was your soulmate. He watched as Shownu reached into Hyungwon’s pocket, taking out his cell phone. “The universe wouldn’t pair my angel with such a monster, with-”

His voice cut off when Shownu showed him Hyungwon’s lockscreen, a picture of you smiling freely as you stared up at the night sky. Shownu then unlocked the phone, and showed what the home screen was, a picture of you and him sharing a kiss. There was no denying it now. No doubt he was your soulmate, and any argument that Hyungwon didn’t love you was quickly demolished.

“You mean to tell me, that he is like that, because something is happening to my daughter? Right now?” It seemed as though your father had the wind knocked out of him.

“Yes, and H.One is the only one capable of saving her.” Shownu pocketed his friend’s phone.

“What makes him the only one capable?”

“They’re bonded. It’s as simple as that.”

Hyungwon stopped his wriggling, breathing heavily. He was terrified he’d open his eyes and see black and white. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t, because there was still a great amount of pain in his arm, but the prospect of not seeing colors kept him from coming back into the world. 

He felt himself being freed of handcuffs and sighed in relief. It was about time. He  knew he had to get up now, so he slowly stood up and chanced opening his eyes. It was dark enough in the house that he couldn’t tell if there was a change in the colors or not. He was grateful for that.

“I want you to know,” Your father started, “that if it wasn’t for my daughter, you’d be dead right now.”

“I would’ve already been dead by now if it weren’t for her.” Hyungwon replied breathlessly, wiping sweat off his brow.

“We’ll need to work together on this, so in the meantime, you can refer to me as J.” Your dad held his hand out to Hyungwon.

He grasped it firmly and shook it, “I’m sure you already know, but H.One.” This night marked an alliance, however temporary, between the two of them. Their goal was to find you, alive preferably. Together they would get closer.

A week later, Wonho came home with a package for Hyungwon.

“Hey Boss!” He called out as he walked through the front door, “You got a package! Don’t worry, I already checked if it was poisoned, or if it was an explosive.”

Hyungwon came down the stairs, confusion written all over him. “Where’d you get it?” He asked, coming to take the package out of his friend’s hands.

“Someone left it at the bar in one of the clubs.” He answered, “Don’t worry, we’re already checking the security footage to see who it was.”

“How strange…” He had a bad feeling about whatever was in this package. It didn’t seem heavy, in fact it was very lightweight, especially for the size of the box. He gently shook the box, listening to hear the contents move around. It didn’t sound terribly fragile. “I’ll open this, then let you all know what it is. Something tells me I’ll need to be alone for this.” Wonho nodded, clapping his friend on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Hyungwon stared at the package as he walked back upstairs to his room. The only lettering on it was his code name. There was no return address, no hint as to who it was from. Once in his room, he shut the door and went about trying to find something to open the box with. He ended up finding a set of keys to use to open the package.

He took a deep breath before slowly running the key along the tape. Dread filled his stomach as the tape ripped open. Inside was a CD, sitting in the bottom left corner. He took the disk out and looked at it. Written on the disk was a date, 20180705. That was a month ago...now Hyungwon was even more hesitant to see the contents.

Still, he pulled out his laptop and slid the disk into the DVD player. It took a second for the computer to read and load the contents. Before he pressed play, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for what was on the CD. When he let the video play, his nightmares came true.

There you were, nearly naked and strapped to a table, screaming and crying. You looked so pale, so skinny, so disregarded. Even in the dim lighting he could tell you had been beaten, that you were suffering. What made it all worse was that they were using your fear of thunderstorms against you.

He watched, stunned, as you flinched and panicked at every crash of thunder, every flash of light. He ached to reach through the screen and hold onto you, to whisper reassurances and sing you songs, to rock you in his arms and kiss you so you could forget the world around you. His heart constricted, his breaths becoming shallow; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see.

The video was two and a half hours long...they made you suffer for two and a half hours. Were they at least providing you proper medical care? Surely after being exposed to so much water nonstop you’d be susceptible to many diseases. They were caring for you. They had to be. Deep down, though, he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew they were neglecting your health. That’s why you were so skinny, why he could barely tell the difference between colors now. He had to get to you. He had to find you now. He couldn’t waste anymore time.

He slammed the laptop shut, throwing it across the room. He heard something crack, but that was the last thing on his list of concerns. He stormed out of his room, and began to form a plan. He’ll find you. Just watch.

[sam-lives-story]

#SamLives - Chapter 5

“The Livestre҉a̲͉m”

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Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

‘Hi Jack! I wanted to know if you’ll have Sam in another video? He’s so cute!’

‘Hey there Jack, i’ve been watching your channel for a while and I wanted to say thank you for always making me smile. And by the way are you okay? You look really tired. Is Anti trying to take over again? xD’

‘Jack! Bro! Hi-five! *Wha-psh!* You’re so funny!!! I love your videos and I really like all the stuff you do with the egos. Is Schneep coming back? What about Chase? Does Sam count as an ego? I wanna see him again. He’s definitely real right?’

‘Is Sam real??? :0′

‘Holy shit #SamLives omfg’

‘You okay jack? You look really tired in your videos. Don’t forget to take care of yourself! You take care of us all the time, Maybe it’s our turn to take care of you! Get some rest and don’t worry about missing an upload. We’ll understand! <3’

‘Dude are you dropping hints again? Is Anti gonna show up again? I’m so scared! x3′

Jack was sitting hunched over in his desk chair, scrolling through his asks on Tumblr with a slightly strained look on his face. It was becoming harder and harder to find ones he could answer without either lying or giving away hints about his future plans for the egos. He groaned and let his phone fall to the carpet, his head dropping to his desk with a quiet ‘thunk’. He really didn’t feel up to recording today.

It had been three days since his call with Mark and the other YouTuber had been evasive any time Jack tried to question him about what he’d been talking about. And since that call, Jack’s paranoia had only gotten worse. Four more recordings had shown hints of Anti in the background, and it made him scared to try and record another one when that glitch could be watching him, creeping up on him while he was fully immersed in a game. He had been editing out the glitches before passing his recordings on to Robin, had tried to cut out the parts where Anti had shown up and blamed the missing sections on “camera issues, don’t worry about it”. No need to worry Robin if it turned out to be nothing but paranoia. Jack didn’t want to be leaving clues where they didn’t exist, especially since he already had plans for the upcoming month. Anti showing up prematurely would ruin things.

...then there was the fact that oh my god Anti is real what the hell is going on. Because now, Jack was sure it wasn’t just him and Robin that had seen Anti. It wasn’t just his own caffeine-driven delirium or Robin playing a prank. No, the entire community was talking about it...which meant it really did happen. Anti really was showing up. Which made this entire situation that much more terrifying. Not only was he scared that people knew Sam was real...he was getting scared because everybody else thought Anti wasn’t.

The buzz of his phone between his feet made him jump, heart pounding, and it took him a moment to catch his breath. Jesus...he panted softly, clutching at his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. It was nothing. Just his phone. Just...a text, or something. He picked it up, read Robin’s message, and groaned.

Robin: Having issues with the second upload today. Might have to stream instead. Is that okay?

Jack pressed his phone to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, thinking. If he started a stream, and something happened live, he wouldn’t be able to cut it out. He wouldn’t be able to hide it. If he was streaming, people would see his exhaustion seeping through between his cheerful humor and energy.

Maybe he could wear makeup?

...not the worst plan

But that still left Anti...

With a huff, Jack sat back in his chair and typed back a reluctant message.

Jack: Yeah...yeah, I can stream. Jack: Keep an emergency contact on speed-dial just in case. Robin: Why? Expecting a break-in? You haven’t been playing The Game have you? That shit makes good nightmare fuel Robin: I doubt anything bad will happen lol...but sure, whatever you say.

Jack let his eyes close again and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another message.

Robin: So should the emergency contact be Felix, or PJ, or should I just start screaming “HEY MA” if something goes wrong?

Jack threw his phone across the room.

"NO! SCREW YOU KALE-POP-08!”

An hour into the stream, and those who were watching were all laughing as he died, yet again, in Fortnite. Not that he was really mad at all. He chuckled along with the rest of them, groaning at his defeat, flopping over in his chair.

“Jackieboy Man, beaten again! How could this happen to me?” He took a deep breath, singing at the top of his lungs: “How could this happen to meeee? I’ve made my mistaaaakes–”

The chat responded by spamming the lyrics, to which Jack let out a chuckle.

“Ah well...guess I’m still kinda mediocre. But hey! I finished fourth! Not bad at all.”

Jack grinned and opened his mouth to start using his “Announcer Voice™” to commentate on Kale-Pop-08′s game, when the chat suddenly switched gears. Everybody began spamming basically the same thing in all caps.

» TURN AROUND! 0.0

» LOOK BEHIND YOU!!

» BEHIND YOU!  D:

» JACK, BEHIND YOU!!!

All the color drained from Jack’s face and he spun in his seat, head whipping over his shoulder - and he let out a strangled sound, his eyes flying wide. There, in the corner, was a dark shadow. A distortion in the air. A glitch. And Jack knew full well what it was. Anti. In the real world. Right behind him. This was the first time he had actually managed to spot the digital demon outside of replays of his own recordings...and he didn’t have a fucking clue how to handle it.

“No!” he shouted, running on autopilot, his chair falling out from beneath him and his headphones tumbling from his head. He scrambled to his feet, backing up against the desk, as far back from Anti as he could possibly get. “N-No! Stay back! Don’t...d-don’t touch me! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!”

His tone was turning desperate and scared and the stream was all but forgotten, panic blinding him in the moment. The darkness warped, morphed, a pair of brilliant green eyes staring at him from the shadows. A glitching, distorted, high-pitched version of his own laugh echoed back at him and he shuddered, a chill running down his spine.

“B-Back off, Anti!” he snapped, his bravado fading fast. Then before he knew what was happening there was a hand gripping the front of his shirt and pitch-black eyes boring into his own.

“E͙ṅjͩo͆y̑iͭnͨg͛ o̠u᷈r͌ l᷉i᷅t̋tͣl̈e̘ g͡a̓m᷊e͘,̓ a᷄r̫é y̲o̒ū̦̩?͕”

The voice sounded so like his own, but at the same time - so different. Darker. Distorted. Broken. He barely had time to register what was happening before he found himself being yanked backward away from the desk, tumbling across the floor with a cry of shock. Jack dragged himself to his feet, trying to get out, get away - then his back was slammed against the wall and there was a hand at his throat.

“I͆'̾m̦ a᷉ ḷĭṫtͤl͙e̡ dͨi̇s̢a͞p̣pͪo̺ịn̤tͪe͐d͗ t͓h̓o͡u̪gh,” Anti sneered, grinning wickedly. “Tͩh̎ọu̢g̤h̤t͊ y͋o̮u͠'̭d͖ a̓t̛ l̇e̬aͧs̽tͤ lͣeͪt̏ t̫h̓e̎ w᷇o͊r̮l͏d̊ s̪e᷀e̐ m͜e͍.͗.̬.̏b̓u̗tͪ n͌o̩,͑ y̢o͒u᷇ h̔idͥ m̻e᷇ ăw͋a᷆y̠ l̕ḭk͡e ä́ di̓rͤty l͇ỉtͭt̰l̃e͙ s̜ȅcͪr᷉e᷈t̀.”

Jack clawed at the hand around his throat, but he couldn’t get a grip on it. It wasn’t fully solid. Trying to grab Anti’s hand was like trying to dig through a bin of tiny, static-charged Lego’s.

“H̾o͐w̎ m̿a̴n̒y̾ v̢i͂dͧe͖o̤s͖ dͪi̪d̐ Iͤ s͌h̖o͗w͠ ṳp͎ i͛n̉?̄ H̽oͨwͯ ma̾n̬y o͠f͎ t᷀h͘e̥m̶ d͙i̟ḑ y̩o᷈ủ c̬u͈t͎ m͋e͝ oͤu̼tͨ oͯf̗?͛”

Anti shook him roughly, clutching at Jack’s neck so tightly he found himself gasping, choking, trying to catch his breath. Anti turned away from Jack slightly, eyes landing on the computer across the room, the stream that was still going on...and he grinned, a wicked, sharp, dangerous grin.

“W̧e͒lͅl̔ y̡oͫư c̦aͫn̟'̯t͏ ću̸t̞ m͝eͫ o͎u̿t͙ o̩f̄ tͭh̭i͙s̓ o̡n̻e. Ťh̍ȇŷ c̯a̸n̄ s̐e͓e̒ mͣe̽ nͮoͯw̔,᷉ c̱a̬nͣ'͍t̙ t͂h͆eͦỷ?̪ B̜u̕t̙ i̱ť l̴ōôk̦s᷅ l͂i̐ke͍ t͌ḧ́e͕y͡ m̳i᷈g̬h̹t̓ hͤa͂v̖e̕ bͤȇe᷄n᷉ t̤ỏo̽ lͫa̘t̵e᷆.̍” He tilted his head to the side, his image glitching and delayed, the action looking far from human...and the laugh that left him was even less so. “Yͧo̿uͯ'ͣr̕e᷀ p̵a͔yͣi̜n̪g̓ a̤t̲t͞e̽n̼t͆ĩo̢n̬ nͫO͐w̋ A̕řE͘n̓'̈́T̛ y̎O᷉Ǘ?̟!͌?͌”

Jack was struggling, fighting, trying to get air, little spots appearing in his vision–

“Leave him alone!”

A small but brave voice came to life in Jack’s head...and apparently, Anti heard him too, because the glitch flinched and took a step back. Not enough to let go of Jack, but enough to let him have some air. Anti’s grin faded and he looked...oddly tense, as far as Jack could tell from his spinning vision. He coughed, tried to warn Sam, tried to get him to leave.

“S̮t͈a̙y o͈u̪t͗ o͛f͎ t͇h͠i᷉s͆,ͨ S̥a̼m͝.ͦ”

“No! You stay out of it! L-Leave Jack alone! ...please?”

Jack couldn’t see Sam, didn’t know where he was, only knew he was somewhere on the ground, and the thought of him being involved in this at all...it terrified him, more than being alone in the room with Anti. He struggled harder against Anti’s hold. He had to get away, had to...had to keep Sam safe...had to protect...

“...I̛ w͞a᷉s᷄ g͋e͇t̖t̾i̗n' b̎o͡r͘e̴dͤ a̴nͩy͉w᷁a͔y͐.”

And much to Jack’s shock and relief, Anti glitched and distorted, disappearing and reappearing across the room, still in the camera’s view but out of Jack’s reach. Jack let out a hoarse, strangled gasp and crumpled to the ground, coughing, trying to breath, clutching at his throat as though he couldn’t believe he was still alive.

He really, honestly, couldn’t.

Anti let out a dramatic, glitching sigh.

“S͐'͎p̀p̭o̲s͝e̾ I̾'͔l̂lͮ h̒âvͧe̦ ṭa͎ sͥa͓v͈e͈ t̔h᷇e͇ f᷀u̯n̲ u̮n̥t̜i͏l̈́ n͢e᷆x̐t᷉ ṫỉmͥe͑,ͪ J̱a᷁c̹ǩa̱b̘o᷄yͨ~”

The glitch shot one last, giggling grin at the camera, the vanished with a flurry of distorted pixels.

“...Jack? J-Jack, are you okay?”

Jack nodded mutely, still struggling to find his breath, to find his voice.

‘Yeah. Thanks Sam. I think you might have saved my life.’

Sam preened at the words, his worries fading away in favor of a few happy squeaks and a little cuddling against Jack’s leg. Jack smiled softly. He raised his head, eyes locking on the computer, on the desk. The stream.

Oh, fuck, the stream–

Jack scrambled to his feet, scooping Sam up as he went and tucking him in his hoodie pocket, careful to keep him out of sight of the camera. He stumbled over to the desk and dragged his chair back to where it was supposed to be, dropping into it and staring into the lens. He opened his mouth - and he couldn’t think of what to say. His entire body was still pulsing with terror, his hands shaking horribly and his eyes twitching nervously as though he was sure Anti was still hiding in the corners of the room. Jack, for once in his life, was utterly speechless.

He had almost been killed.

He had almost died.

If Sam hadn’t been there, he was certain he would have.

And suddenly it was like everything came collapsing down on him at once, the adrenaline wearing off and giving way to the shock and the fear and the overwhelming emotions that accompanied a near-death experience. He shuddered and buried his face in his hands, knowing full well he was being watching, knowing full well that thousands of people were witnessing his breakdown.

“...s-sorry,” he finally managed. The word was mangled and hoarse and came out a little wheezy. “Sorry you...s-saw...fuckin’ hell...”

It was with a shaking breath and shaking shoulders that he forced himself to look up at the screen, his eyes seeking out the livestream chat.

» Holy shit did you see that?!

» Guys I don’t think that was fake, look at Jack

» Dude Jack are you okay?!?

» That looked real. Holy fuck how did they make it look so real????

» Look at him, he looks so scared

» Ohmygod Jack! Are you okay?

» That was some amazing editing, holy shit I’m dying

» JACK! TALK TO US! PLEASE LET US KNOW YOU’RE OKAY!

» He looks absolutely terrified, I don’t think he’s faking it, I think that really happened

» Guys look at the marks on his neck

» OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT HOW DID HE DO THAT WHAT THE FUCK

» Jack? Are you alright? Please say you’re alright, I’m so worried about you!

Jack took a breath, then another, a half-hearted, shaking smile making its way onto his features.

“I’m alright,” he assured them, knowing he sounded like hell and knowing it was half a lie. “Jus’...just a little shaken, is all. I’ll be–” He broke off with a cough, wincing. “...I’ll be f-fine. Just need ta rest fer awhile. I dunno if I’ll be able to scream for ya for a few days. Heh...”

He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, and while it seemed to calm some of the chat, knowing he could still be humorous after that, many were still worried.

“...I’m...I’m gonna end the stream here, I think. Sorry for cuttin’ it short.”

And after a quick, and much quieter, goodbye, Jack turned off his camera. He sank back into his seat, eyes closed, and dragged both shaking hands down his face. What...what the hell was he supposed to do now...? Sam made a quiet questioning noise from his pocket and his breath caught, pulse skyrocketing. Sam...Sam could’ve gotten hurt. He, Jack, could have died, and–

–and suddenly he was out of his seat, staggering from the room and finding his way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. It took him almost three tries to do it, his other hand clutching the basin like his life depending on it. Then he was splashing water in his face. Trying not to throw up. Trying to calm himself down. Because if anything was going to prove to him that Anti was real, what had happened tonight certainly did it.

Jack didn’t even bother eating dinner or changing into pajamas. It took everything he had to make it to his bedroom, and once he was there he curled up, shaking beneath the covers, his phone flung to the other side of the room, Sam curled up against his chest. He couldn’t even trust technology anymore. Anti had only ever shown up in videos. He had only ever shown up while Jack was at his computer. And, perhaps, during that phone call with Mark where his perfectly-unbroken phone had shocked him. So despite the buzzing he could hear across the room, despite the number of times he saw the screen light up, no way in hell was he going to answer it. He wasn’t going to risk it.

Jack ignored it, and he ignored the rest of the world...and now, here, alone in the dark with Sam as his company, he finally let himself break. A strangled sob broke free from his damaged throat and he cried, actually openly cried, for the first time in a very, very long time.

[A/N] ...sorry? ^^;

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

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[Chapter List]

[jacscorner]

Quick Review of Super Sentai Shows

I haven't seen a lot of Toku shows, but I've always wanted to get me thoughts out on them. I've seen every Sentai show starting from Gokaiger and after. Even though that's not a lot, these are still gonna be kind of long, so I'll tackle Kamen Rider shows at a later date. Each of these 'reviews' will be a paragraph or two in length, a quick few sentences on each Ranger, and will have a letter grade after it. Maybe someday, I'll go into greater detail, but just not today. Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger: My opinion on Gokaiger might be a little bias, but this is my favorite series. Gokaiger follows the adventures of a band of pirates as they look for a treasure that can only be found on Earth. Meanwhile, the Earth is being invaded by a Space Empire that has, in one way or the other, screwed them all over. This draws them into the battle as they fight to protect the Earth in order to protect the treasure, slowly growing to like the Earth as we get cameos and guest stars of previous Rangers-I might not be familiar with much of them since I've hardly seen much of the older shows, but I do love the crash course on Sentai Teams. The main gimmick of the show is the ranger's ability to transform into the rangers of previous shows, but when in their main suits, Blue and Green trade their gun and sword respectively to duel wield, Yellow and Pink also pull this. Gokai Red, Captain Marvelous: The fact that might just be his real name is hilarious. Probably, in my biased opinion, the most badass pirate n fictional history and best ranger so far. Gokai Blue, Blue: Cool guy and his personal arc is awesome. Also, there's an episode when he SOMEHOW holds five swords. Suck it, Zoro. Gokai Yellow, Luka: Wannabe Nami from One Piece, but she's still pretty cool. Gokai Green, Doc: Team smart guy and is probably the funniest character. He trips and falls around in the fights and although his own arcs are pretty petty, he's still enjoyable. Gokai Pink, Ahim: A Princess who's both Team Heart and team badass. Thankfully no 'princess laugh' Gokai Silver, Guy: 6th Ranger and a literal Super Sentai fanboy, complete with an autograph book and it's really funny. Gets his own powerup form that's kind of lame, but his gimmick is to transform into other 6th Rangers. Grade: A+ Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters: FBI agents fight Hackers. Okay, no, not quite that: a science institute is dragged into Cyberspace-I mean Hyperspace, with the only ones able to escape being 3 kids. These 3 kids grow up to become the Go-Busters. This is a super serious series-well, as series as these shows can get-and it's everything I could've asked for. Unfortunately, that was also kind of the problem. Anyway, they fight machines that have been infected with a virus by a homicidal computer avatar-even though a lot of these robots are made from machines that aren't electronic in nature. Go-Busters gave the feeling that there was a lot of good ideas going into this, but they weren't taken far enough. Each of the 3 main Go-Busters get a robot partner that is both a helpful side character AND helps them pilot their respective mech. Each of the Go-Busters also has a superpower due to being absorbed into Hyperspace, and a computer-based weakness. Red Buster, Hiromu: The most skilled member of the group, as well as the most socially inept. His super power is to run at super speed, and his weakness is to freeze up...but only when he sees or hears a 'chicken'. His partner, Cheeda Nick, is a humanoid robot that turns into a motorcycle and acts as Hiomu's older brother. Yellow Buster, Yoko: A hotheaded tomboy. Her special power is super-high jumping, and weakness is needing to keep the calories coming-AKA, needing her battery charged. Her partner, Usada Lettuce, is a rabbit-themed robot that part times act as a best friend and part time a nagging parent. Blue Buster, Ryuji: The oldest of the group and the one who has to keep Hiromu and Yoko from pulling each other's hair out. His super power is super strength, but his weakness is overexerting himself-overheating. In which case, he goes berserk and could destroy himself. His partner, Gorisaki Banana, is a gorilla-themed robot that is a doting, overbearing parent 24/7. Beet Buster, Jin: A super genius who was trapped in Hyperspace. He appears as a digital avatar that's remote-controlled by the real Jin who's still trapped. He really lived up this dry show by being funny and he even has a good arc. Unlike the previous 3, his mechs can be piloted without his robot partner. Stag Buster, Beet J. Stag: A humanoid robot that acts as Jin's partner. Unlike the other robots, he actively joins in the fight and is also funny. He constantly steps in front of people and interrupt them while talking. When transforming, it looks like excess parts from him form into Jin's suit, but this could just be cosmetic. Grade: C- Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger: According to this show, during the age of dinosaurs, Aliens invaded and tried to take over the Earth, but the Dinosaurs beat them. To get revenge, they caused the ice age. But team mentor, Torin, stored their souls so they could be used again to fight the aliens-as oppose to using them for the other aliens who've surely came from other shows.  Anyway, cut to modern times when the aliens come back and the souls of the dinosaurs must find new wielders of their power to defend the planet. This is the typical goofy nature you should expect from these shows. Each Ranger uses a gun to transform, to fight, and get their own special weapon. Also, a bunch of smaller dinosaur batteries that can turn into upgrades and other tools. Kyoryu Red, 'King': Or Daigo, but almost everyone calls him King. The Fanged Hero who's a hotheaded shonen protagonist-get use to me saying that. His dinosaur is a Tyrannosaurus-because of course it is. If you've seen the last 3 Dinosaur-themed heroes, you should've known. Kyoryu Blue, Nobuharu: Or Nossan. The Armored Hero is literally the best character in this show. He tells bad puns and is a middle aged handyman who helps take care of his niece with his sister. His spirit is a Stegosaurus. Kyoryu Green, Souji: The Slashing Hero, a high school student who studies swordplay from his father, who runs a dojo. His dinosaur is a Velociraptor. Kyoryu Pink, Amy: The Horned Heroine, a high-class sophisticate who is always trying to get away from her fortune and be normal.  Her dinosaur is a Triceratops. Kyoryu Black, Ian: The Bullet Hero, European archaeologist-in the same sense of Indiana Jones, just replace the whip with a gun-who's also a playboy. He gets his own arc with one of the main antagonists. His dinosaur is a Parasaurolophus. Kyoryu Gold, Utsusemimaru: Or just Uchii. The Thunderous Hero is a feudal era Samurai who survived due to one of the main antagonist, Dogold(a living set of armor) taking his body. They have a constant rivalry that is pretty awesome to watch. His dinosaur is a Pteranodon. The next couple of rangers are mostly suplimentary. They won't appear as often as the main team, if at all. Kyoryu Cyan, Ramirez: Another person from an unspecified part of Europe. The Steel Hero is a jolly guy who SOMEHOW slims down when he transforms. He's actually a spirit who assists the rangers from beyond the grave. His dinosaur is a Ankylosaurus. Kyoryu Gray, Tessai: A Chinese Martial Artist and another Spirit. A disciplined warrior. His dinosaur is a Pachycephalosaurus. Kyoryu Violet, Dr. Ulshade: The Marine Hero, an old man scientist who originally built the heroes their transforming gun. He retires from hero duty and his granddaughter, Yayoi, takes after him-both as a scientist and as the Marinte Heroine. Their dinosaur is a Plesiosaurus. Kyoryu Silver, Torin: Torin is actually a defector from the invaders and eventually becomes a ranger himself. His dinosaur should be himself since he's a bird, but no, it's a Deinonychus. Grade: B+ Ressha Sentai ToQger: Thomas the Tank Engine. Okay, no. ToQger follows a group of childhood friends as they find themselves on the Rainbow Line, a train powered by children's imagination. With the Rainbow Line in danger by their counterpart, but the Shadow Line, who's goal is to cover the world in darkness, the ToQger uses their imagination to, well, imagine themselves as rangers to fight the Shadow Line. This series is a mix of a comedy and a drama, slowly growing darker and darker into a rather somber show. It's still a how focused on the power of friendship, but it's kind of deep. The Ranger gimmick this time, aside from trains, is that they switch their colors, and weapons, with each other. ToQ 1gou, Right: The energetic leader of the show, another Shonen-ish main Red. The most imaginative and childish of the group. ToQ 2gou, Tokatti: A Blue klutz, but he has a few endearing moments. ToQ 3gou, Mio: A no-nonsense Yellow ranger. ToQ 4gou, Hikari: The real lancer of this series and the Green Ranger. Is equal to Right, but is also his total opposite. ToQ 5gou, Kagura: The least skilled out of the group, but she's the most imaginative. And here, that's a big deal! ToQ 6gou, Akira: A defect of the Shadow Line, who joined the Rainbow Line to 'protect the rainbow'-cause you can't have a rainbow if the world is in darkness. Best ranger of the series. Grade: B Shuriken Sentai Ninninger: Naruto Sentai! No. Ninninger follows the adventures of five Grandchildren of an incredibly powerful ninja, the Hoka-I mean, the Last Ninja. They fight an army of demons-literally-who were sealed away by the Last Ninja himself. They're heralded by his former student, Izayoi, who aims to collect the 'Power of Fear' in order to resurect the Demon Leader. The monsters are created by Sealing Shuriken, which was what was used to seal him away, and infusing it with his demonic magic, transforming inanimate objects into demons-kind of like how a lot of Japanese Demons, 'Yokai', are made up of inanimate objects. Meanwhile, the ninjas are able to use ninjitsu, literal ninja magic, with the use of special shuriken. Ninninger has a lot going on with its story, to the point where it can feel like there's too much going on. The Wild Brilliance-Aka Ninger, Takaharu: Another Shonen-ish protagonist. He's the red ninja. The Rumbling Cloud-Ao Ninger, Yakumo: The blue ranger, team lancer who grew up in England...and apparntly went to Hogwarts since he can cast normal magic with a wand. The Dazzling Stillness-Ki Ninger, Nagi: Yellow Ranger, would rather work at an office then be a ninja. He's...kind of forgetable, honestly. The Flower in the Wind-Shiro Ninger, Fuka: The White Ranger is sister of Takaharu-everyone else, in relationship to the other, are cousins. The least skilled of the group, but she starts getting into her stride later on. The Shimmering Haze-Momo Ninger, Kasumi: The Smart Girl and the Pink Ranger. Is the best Ranger in a technical sense, since she's easily the smartest member of the team in terms of ninjitsu and is an aspiring scientist. The Shinning Star-Star Ninger, Kinji: An American Ninja/Cowboy...who transforms with a little cheeseburger, as oppose to the sword everyone else use. And he fights with a gun/guitar/sword. HE is best Ranger of the series. (He's the 6th Ranger and the only one not related to the main cast). He pursuited being a ninja after being inspired by the Last Ninja. Grade: C Doubutsu Sentai Zyuohger: Power Ranger Furries. No. Well, kind of. In an alternate dimmension, there is a land called Zyuland, home of the Zyumans. In universe, a group of anthropomorphic animal. In reality, a bunch of guys a little too enthusiastic in their cosplay. Our Red Ranger, a Zoologist, while studying animals in a forest, stumbles upon a giant cube, a Link Cube, which transports him to Zyuland. Meanwhile, Earth is attacked by a group of intergalactic aliens, the Dethgalien, who are only invading Earth because it's a literal game for them. In fact, they even have this neat arcade them, with monsters getting an 'extra life' with coins. After four Zyuman end up on Earth after it gets damaged, Yamata and the four of them have to fight to protect the Earth, while also trying to find a way home for the Zyumen. The Zyumen transform using Zyuoh Changers, which are cube cellphones. Monarch of the Skies-Zyuoh Eagle, Yamato: Token Human who prior, was given some Zyuenergy from Bard, an Eagle Zyuman who found Yamato while he was young and got into a serious accident. Thanks to that, Yamato is capable of transforming into the Red Ranger, while also getting Eagle wings. He also gets 2 more transformations. Yamato himself is a little less shonen then the previous two guys, with a strong passion for animals. As an Eagle, he can see great distances. Monarch of the Seas-Zyuoh Shark, Sela: The Blue Ranger and a Shark-Woman. She has super hearing and is serious. Her shark dorsal fin can, apparently, cut people. Monarch of the Savannah-Zyuoh Lion, Leo: This Yellow Ranger picks up the slack for Yamato's lack of shonen conventions. A hot blooded, Lion-Man warrior with a sonic scream...er, roar. Also, Lion Claws. Monarch of the Forest-Zyuoh Elephant, Tusk: This studious young man is the Green Ranger. He's studious and straight forward to a fault. He's an Elephant-Man with a super sense of smell. He can also stomp around with Elephant Feet. Monarch of the Snowfield-Zyuoh Tiger, Amu: The White Ranger, the most easy going of the group. She's a Tiger-Woman and have a super sense of taste. She fights with tiger claws. Monarch of the World, Zyuo The World, Misao: He is the best Ranger, period. Kidnapped by the Dethgalien, he gets forcefully infused with 3 other Zyoumen: a Crocodile, Wolf, and Rhino. What makes him the best is his overall arc as a character, being socially inept and fostering some misplaced guilt on the death of the Zyoumen. Grade: B+ Uchu Sentai Kyuranger: The most recent Sentai Series, following a rebellion group in their attempt to overthrow the evil Jark Matter, an organization that has already taken over the entire universe. The universe's last hope are the prophesied Kyuangers, who transform with the use of Kyutamas-little spheres based off of the constellations that they put into wrist-mounted blasters. By the end of the series, there is a grand total of 12 heroes. Unfortunately, this show REALLY loves caste herds AND is still Red centric, so we won't get much in the way of small groups mix and matching, and more so we'll divide the characters into certain groups or they'll have some kind of chemistry, and they won't interact with other people. (Ex. A and B hand out, A and C hang out, but C and B won't hang out.) To add onto that, the last couple of episodes or so really makes the show drag on, as though the writers struggled to write an ending AND reach the episode quota. But, it does give me a lot of 'favorite rangers', so pros and cons. The Super Star-Shishi Red, Lucky: The shonen protagonist to end the all-at least, as far as I've seen. His whole shtick is that he's lucky and sometimes it comes off as a deus ex machina, and other times it's more of in a symbolic  sense, ala "you make your own luck". His constellation is Leo. The Poison Star-Sasori Orange, Stinger: A mysterious lone wolf from a planet of humanoids with Scorpion tails. Speaking of, his constellation is Scorpius. He has a pretty intricate arc involving his brother, as well as with his partner below. The Ring Star-Oushi Black, Champ: A robot wrestling bull. That alone makes him a canidate for best ranger. He also goes through an arc of his alone, as well as one with Stinger. He's as big of a ham as they come, as he seems fully aware of the show he's in. His constellation is Taurus. The Beast Star-Ookami Blue, Garu: An anthropomorphic Wolf who's constellation is, yes, Lupus, the Wolf. He's another hot head who bonds quickly with Lucky. He might be my favorite ranger purely because of just how endearing he can be, like an actual dog. The Trick Star-Tenbin Gold, Balance: A robot-uh, I mean mechanical lifeform/android who's part of a pair of thieves with the guy below. He can control other pieces of machinery. He is flamboyant as all hell and he's so fun to watch. His constellation is Libra. The Silent Star-Hebitsukai Silver: An emotionless alien who has psychic powers. He follows Balance along in the hopes of achieving emotions, something his species has given up on like the Vulcans from Star Trek. His constellation is Ophiuchus, but he acts less like the Serpent Bearer and more like the Serpent itself. The Shinobi Star-Chameleon Green: A freakin' ninja from a suppose planet of ninjas! She's a sassy tomboy with her constellation is Chamaeleon. The Speed Star-Washi Pink, Raptor 283: A lady robot who was built to helm their speceship, the Orion. She's more or less an otaku, but they do their best to make her come cute and not cringey. Her constellation is Aquila. The Food Mei-Star-Kijika Yellow, Spada. A chef who...I guess comes from Space Spain. His constellation is Dorado. The Dragon Ma-Star-Ryu Commander, Commander Shou: The commander of the Kyurangers and the rebellion. He's eccentric and, although as much of a dork as Raptor, is so cool! His arc is early on in the series and it really shows just how great he is. A definite candidate for best ranger! He's an anthropomorphic dragon, so of course, his constellation would be Draco. The Big Star-Koguma Skyblue, Kotaro: A young Earthling-one of two Earthling Tokens-who joins the resistence and even goes through boot camp! His constellation is Ursa Minor. The reason for being the 'Big Star' is because he has a powerup that lets him grow to a giant size! He ends up looking up to Stinger as an older brother figure. The Space Bu-Star-Houou Soldier, Tsurugi: A Kyuranger who was put into cryogenic sleep. He's a haughty bastard, but considering he was the first president of space, he can kind of get away with it.  You'll either learn to love him or learn to tolerate him since he does get better. His constellation is the Phoenix. Grade: B Kaitou Sentai Lupinranger VS Keisatsu Sentai Patoranger: Cops and Robbers Sentai, the Sentai. Following Kyuranger, the show follows along the 3-way feud between the Lupinrangers, a group of phantom thief-themed sentai, the Patorangers, a group of cop-themed sentai, and the Ganglers, a Mafia-themed batch of villains. The three groups fight over the Lupin Collection, a group of magical McGuffins that were collected by the Phantom Thief Lupin(yes,that one.) The Lupins want them to get a wish. The Pats want them to fight the Ganglers. And the Ganglers want them cause power. The show LOVES the Lupinranger, with the Patoranger getting much less screen time. At the same time, they also get the most character development. Meanwhile, the Lupinranger get the most screen time and the most upgrades and weapons. Lupin Red, Kairi: UNLIKE the last, like, 3 Sentais, Kairi isn't a Shonen Protagonist (OMFG!). He's a confident and suave guy, but it's a front since his wish is to get back his older brother, who was kidnapped by a Gangler-and they weren't on good terms when he was taken. Lupin Blue, Toma: Cool, collected straight guy of the team. His goal is to get back his fiance. Probably the most interesting of the three thieves since his episodes either push him into VERY uncomfortable places for the character, or draws heavily on the memories of said fiance. Lupin Yellow, Umika: Team Little Sister. Her goal is to get back her friend. She has a romantic subplot with Patren 2gou and it's surprisingly interesting. Her episodes are surprisingly rare, at least, to me they felt rare. Patren Ichigou, Keiichiro: Hard boiled, no-nonsense cop. Comes off as an angry cop in the beginning, but is simply trying to uphold justice and protect people. His a rivalry with Lupin Red, but as Keiichiro, becomes a pseudo-older brother to Kairi. Patren Nigo, Sakuya: Bumbling oaf cop. A rookie who wants to prove his worth and struggles with confidence-but when he does get confident, it goes to his head quickly. Is endearing and honest and his episodes revolve around rising to the occasion. Patren Sangou, Tsukasa: Straight man(woman?) cop. Usually the one who has to rein in her other partners. Doesn't get too much attention. Lupin/Patren X, Noel: Double Agent kind of who works with both Lupins and Patrens. Can be kind of obnoxious and feels superfluous to the plot, but is a fun addition to both sides. Grade: A

[dramaplustautology]

Buried Under the Aching Tree Part 2/???

Summary: Ash learns about his friend’s sword, a relic passed through a million hands but never through a family. That and what it’s like to be possessed by a single feeling.

Here’s part 1: LINK

So, this became way longer than two parts and way more complicated. This one’s also way shorter than the last part cause the rise and fall fit more when I cut them up like this. Yeah, it’s going to be all moved to my writing blog too. Probably shouldn’t have left this sitting for...over a year.

Coming back from a rare fifteen minute break, Artix returned to the Amityvale Cemetery, finding it packed to the gills with necromancers.

Their hushed rabble fell silent. The few that didn’t slink behind gravestone to hide merely stared at the paladin they collectively loathed.

Artix did not sense any sort of animosity, however, reading an air of unease that felt more like he had walked in on teenagers gossiping about him.

“Hello there fellas.” Artix greeted, raising a hand. “What are you all up to?”

“Grieving,” One of the more morose figures spoke up, draped over the shoulder of a mourning hooded woman. A requirement to practice the magic of raising the dead was being dramatic after all. “We’re here to mourn our dignity.”

That was sort of cemetery business.

Artix felt like he should say something. Perhaps charge at them like the whole paladin-necromancer dynamic demanded.

It was just that, if the necromancers weren’t pacing aimlessly or crouching, they were laying on the ground, groaning. The misery was so thick, he could stick his tongue out and taste the salt.  

“I’ll be, uh, right back.” Artix nodded, starting to back out of the gate. Maybe giving himself a running start would rouse them?

“No!” A bunch of them screamed, jumping to attention. One of the undead necromancers throat had blown open from the force of his shout. The necromancer who had been dangling from the statue dropped on the ground and wormed, not crawled, his way to grip Artix’ ankle. “You have to stay. Who knows what we might do? J-just stay here!”

Seeing the necromancer up close, Artix’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Oh! I remember you! From the Necropolis.”

Panicking, the necromancer buried his face into the dirt but not because of Artix.

“Hey there!”

Now that was a voice that could get his spirits up. Artix turned, smiling easily at the young up and coming hero.

“Ash, what are you doing so far from Falconreach?” The paladin asked, getting a face full of fluffy blue shiver. Startled, Artix removed the attacker by his scruff, realizing he was dangling Zorbak at arm’s length.  

The fluffy necromancer said nothing. Not even a simple “meh.” Zorbak stared back at Artix, beady black eyes huge and quivering.

“I see that Zorbak was up to no good,” Artix threw out an assumption, if only to break what was beginning to be a very awkward silence. “What happened? I wouldn’t have thought you’d chase Zorbak all the way from Falconreach to here.”

What happened indeed.

There was something weird about this. Maybe it was how Ash had decided to go to Doomwood on his own when he’d usually get help. Or perhaps it had something to do with all the necromancers beginning to panic at the sight of a budding leaf of an adventurer.

Ash sure felt taller too. He hadn’t grown an inch since Artix last saw him but with a shiny silver sword he was tapping on his palm, the kid looked ten feet tall.

And that shiny silver sword was very loud.

“Oh, you know. I had this kind of thought that pumped me up the other day. I should be out there more, doing what all heroes should. Defend the innocent, eventually save a princess, and teach the bad guys a last lesson,” Ash shrugged off the sinister connotation of that last bit. “But boy am I glad to see you! I ran into all these other necromancers along the way and we can’t leave them alone, right? I put down a few but the rest ran away here! Thanks for blocking them off.”

“No problem,” Artix nodded, resting his hands on his hips with Zorbak still held firmly by the fur. He would have mistook Zorbak for an armadillo that lost its armor with how hard he curled himself into a ball. “Here, handle Zorbak for me and I’ll take care of the rest!”

“And I’ll be right behind you when I’m finished.” Ash nodded back.

“What?” Zorbak shouted just before Artix tossed the blue sphere over to Ash.

Swinging his sword so quickly that he splattered Artix’s armor, Ash cleaved the mana potion in half. The perfectly equal sides of the glass flask fell on the soft dirt. Ash gazed glumly at the leaking liquid.

“Did I just get pranked?”

“Well, I don’t feel like laughing.” Artix said, gently tossing Zorbak behind him. He scurried off, joining the other necromancers fled to into the rows of graves. Ash peeked over the paladin’s shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be going after him?” Ash asked, brow crumpled in genuine surprise. “I thought paladins were supposed to battle the undead.”

“That’s true! I’ve been at it for a while but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep learning. Recently, I learned that instead of bashing whatever’s closest, going by priority might work better.” Artix drew his sword, leveling its point at Ash. The hurt on the his face made the paladin falter.

“But, I’m not doing anything bad!” Ash’s voice was strained, like he didn’t quite believe it himself.

“Not you. That,” Artix gestured to the sword. It looked familiar but the paladin couldn’t focus on why that was right now. “I don’t know if I’ve told you before Ash, but I can sense the presence of the dead. The voices in the skeletons cry out to be freed but that sword, it’s screaming so much, I can barely hear you,” He swallowed. “I bet you can barely hear me.”

“Then, I’ll take them away,” Ash twirled the sword, letting its whistle meld with his, or its, words. “After every single necromancer in these woods are grinded into dust, we’ll move on to the Sandsea.”

Instinctively, Artix knew how to battle every kind of undead and spirit that came his way, even when it was wearing his friend.

Especially when it was wearing his friend.

Being so new at combat, Ash projected his next action clear for Artix to see. Combined with whatever the sword possessing him was doing, one step forward had become one bound that would have crossed twenty feet.

Artix jumped in front of him, clashing swords with Ash and turned that bound into a slide that drew a deep divot in the ground.

He had caught the silver sword under his own swing, meaning to keep it down so he could headbutt Ash into a quick nap. But, the boy pushed against the deadlock with enough strength to force Artix’s ankles against the mound of dirt they had created.

Shifting his footing to keep his balance, Artix had shifted his concentration for half a second and that let Ash spin on his heel. The silver sword escaped from the deadlock, swinging around to slash at Artix’s neck.

Arching his back, Artix felt the sword nick his chin, managing to bat it away with a diagonal slice of his own blade.

That was where all technicality ended.

Ash’s new style was aggressive, slashing and stabbing with no room to cover his openings. It left Artix to throw off the wild attack, unable to strike back with every chance he got potentially being fatal for his friend.

Sidestepping the gravestones, the paladin attempted to disarm Ash, aiming for the hilt and hoping he wouldn’t take off fingers. Normally, Ash could do that to himself easy but this time, it was like his fingers had melded to the steel.

Ignoring the bruising from Artix’s sword bunting his knuckles, Ash had jabbed the silver blade into the leg of a statue.  

“I knew it.” Ash panted, wrenching the sword out of the crumbling stone. Sweat was beading on the back of his neck, unused to moving this much in a fight.

To Artix’s confusion, Ash’s slumped shoulders and ragged breathing ceased. He stood to attention, tapping the silver blade on his palm again. The glint in the steel went from twinkling to thrumming with red energy.

“You’re not who I thought you were either.”

Before Artix could ask what in the world Ash was talking about, the hilt of the sword slammed into his chest. His chestplating crumpled like paper as he and Ash flew over the cemetery, creating a crater in the empty graves.

“But that’s fine,” Ash’s tone lowered to an almost easy going tone as Artix struggled to breath, pinned by the sword. Ash’s smile was deprived of the haunting malice forcing him to do this. “I know you mean well so why not stargaze for a while? I’ll take care of everything.”    

Then, Artix stopped pretending to choke.

He was relieved that there was enough of Ash in there to pull his punches too.

“Same here, buddy!” Artix grinned, closing his gauntlet over the blade.

Panicking, Ash tried to tear the sword out of his grip. Artix’s hand bled but he refused to budge.

“Sure hope the rest can’t hide like you can, but starting today, you won’t be one of them!” Artix grinned at the blade biting into his palm.

A brilliant light spread from Artix’s fingers, cascading over the cursed sword until it was obscured in the blinding gleam. It shone like the sun was rising in Doomwood for the first time in centuries.

“How come you don’t recognize me?” Ash asked.

The light went out, swallowed by the sword and the cemetery was darker than when it had first arrived. Artix gaped at the etchings on the short sword; one he’d handled months ago.

“Typical.” Ash clicked his tongue in a way that was so alien to his personality, it threw Artix for a frozen loop.

“That’s not his fault! A lot of swords come his way!” Ash argued with himself. “Alright then, if you say so.”

“Ash?” Artix coughed, far more alarmed at the one-man conversation than at the blue pool opening under his back.

At the lip of the crater, Zorbak and a couple of the cowering necromancers had gathered to send this problem to someone else.

“Definitely a problem, meh,” Zorbak scratched his ear with his staff. “A different blue mage should be able to take care of this.” His staff and the staves of the other necromancers shone.

“Good luck, Fartix!” A necromancer sent the pair off with a sneer. The graves opened and plunged Artix and Ash into a sea of trees.

Pushing off of Artix, Ash dove into the woods, expertly cutting and batting away the branches with skills that didn’t belong to him. The Paladin went after his possessed friend, following the path that had opened and slowing the fall as much as he could by dragging his blade over the bark of the nearest tree.

Landing, Artix rolled to prevent his kneecaps from shooting out of his legs. He managed to come to a stop on his back on a bed of mushrooms, surviving the fall with what was likely two sprained ankles. An honest miracle.

Standing above him, Nythera quietly hid the basket of reagents she wasn’t supposed to have behind her. Looking between Artix and Ash, who stepped into their clearing completely unharmed, Nythera’s lips twisted into an accusing pout.

“I’m not breaking curfew, you are.”  

[pixie-mage]

#SamLives - Pt5

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[This story has been edited and reposted on the official #SamLives Tumblr. The new post of Chapter 5 can be found here.]

(There is almost no difference between this version and the new version of Chapter 5, aside from the removal of minor mentions of Signe and the change of a small but crucial detail. Robin hasn’t been editing Anti out of the videos; Jack has.)

‘Hi Jack! I wanted to know if you’ll have Sam in another video? He’s so cute!’

‘Hey there Jack, i’ve been watching your channel for a while and I wanted to say thank you for always making me smile. And by the way are you okay? You look really tired. Is Anti trying to take over again? xD’

‘Jack! Bro! Hi-five! *Wha-psh!* You’re so funny!!! I love your videos and I really like all the stuff you do with the egos. Is Schneep coming back? What about Chase? Does Sam count as an ego? I wanna see him again. He’s definitely real right?’

‘Is Sam real??? :0′

‘Holy shit #SamLives omfg’

‘You okay jack? You look really tired in your videos. Don’t forget to take care of yourself! You take care of us all the time, Maybe it’s our turn to take care of you! Get some rest and don’t worry about missing an upload. We’ll understand! <3’

‘Dude are you dropping hints again? Is Anti gonna show up again? I’m so scared! x3′

Jack was sitting hunched over in his desk chair, scrolling through his asks on Tumblr with a slightly strained look on his face. It was becoming harder and harder to find ones he could answer without either lying or giving away hints about his future plans for the egos. With how stressed he was, a part of him was glad that Signe was away for the week so she wouldn't have to see him like this...but there was still a part of him that wished she was here to help him relax. He groaned and let his phone fall to the carpet, his head dropping to his desk with a quiet ‘thunk’. He really didn’t feel up to recording today.

It had been three days since his call with Mark and the other Youtuber had been evasive any time Jack tried to question him about what he’d been talking about. And since that call, Jack’s paranoia had only gotten worse. Four more recordings had shown hints of Anti in the background, and it made him scared to try and record another one when that glitch could be watching him, creeping up on him while he was fully immersed in a game and, with Signe gone, now basically alone in his home. Robin had been editing around the glitches, had tried to cut out the parts where Anti had shown up. Jack didn’t want to be leaving clues where they didn’t exist, especially since he already had plans for the upcoming month. Anti showing up prematurely would ruin things. 

...then there was the fact that oh my god Anti is real what the hell is going on. Because now, Jack was sure it wasn’t just him and Robin that had seen Anti. It wasn’t just his own caffeine-driven delirium or Robin playing a prank. No, the entire community was talking about it...which meant it really did happen. Anti really was showing up. Which made this entire situation that much more terrifying. Not only was he scared that people knew Sam was real...he was getting scared because everybody else thought Anti wasn’t.

The buzz of his phone between his feet made him jump, heart pounding, and it took him a moment to catch his breath. Jesus...he panted softly, clutching at his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. It was nothing. Just his phone. Just...a text, or something. He picked it up, read Robin’s message, and groaned.

Robin: Having issues with the second upload today. Might have to stream instead. Is that okay?

Jack pressed his phone to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut, thinking. If he started a stream, and something happened live, he wouldn’t be able to cut it out. He wouldn’t be able to hide it. If he was streaming, people would see his exhaustion seeping through between his cheerful humor and energy.

Maybe he could wear makeup?

...not the worst plan

But that still left Anti...

With a huff, Jack sat back in his chair and typed back a reluctant message.

Jack: Yeah...yeah, I can stream. Jack: Keep an emergency contact on speed-dial just in case. Robin: I doubt anything bad will happen lol...but sure, whatever you say.

Jack let his eyes close again and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Another message.

Robin: So should the emergency contact be Felix, or Mark, or should I just start screaming “HEY MA” if something goes wrong?

Jack threw his phone across the room.

"NO! SCREW YOU KALE-POP-08!”

An hour into the stream, and those who were watching were all laughing as he died, yet again, in Fortnite. Not that he was really mad at all. He chuckled along with the rest of them, groaning at his defeat, flopping over in his chair.

“Jackieboy Man, beaten again! How could this happen to me?” He took a deep breath, singing at the top of his lungs: “How could this happen to meeee? I’ve made my mistaaaakes–”

The chat responded by spamming the lyrics, to which Jack let out a chuckle.

“Ah well...guess I’m still kinda mediocre. But hey! I finished fourth! Not bad at all.”

Jack grinned and opened his mouth to start using his “Announcer Voice™” to commentate on Kale-Pop-08′s game, when the chat suddenly switched gears. Everybody began spamming basically the same thing in all caps.

TURN AROUND! 0.0

LOOK BEHIND YOU!!

BEHIND YOU!  D:

JACK, BEHIND YOU!!!

All the color drained from Jack’s face and he spun in his seat, head whipping over his shoulder - and he let out a strangled sound, his eyes flying wide. There, in the corner, was a dark shadow. A distortion in the air. A glitch. And Jack knew full well what it was. Anti. In the real world. Right behind him. This was the first time he had actually managed to spot the digital demon outside of replays of his own recordings...and he didn’t have a fucking clue how to handle it.

“No!” he shouted, running on autopilot, his chair falling out from beneath him and his headphones tumbling from his head. He scrambled to his feet, backing up against the desk, as far back from Anti as he could possibly get. “N-No! Stay back! Don’t...d-don’t touch me! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE!”

His tone was turning desperate and scared and the stream was all but forgotten, panic blinding him in the moment. The darkness warped, morphed, a pair of brilliant green eyes staring at him from the shadows. A glitching, distorted, high-pitched version of his own laugh echoed back at him and he shuddered, a chill running down his spine.

“B-Back off, Anti!” he snapped, his bravado fading fast. Then before he knew what was happening there was a hand gripping the front of his shirt and pitch-black eyes boring into his own.

“E͙ṅjͩo͆y̑iͭnͨg͛ o̠u᷈r͌ l᷉i᷅t̋tͣl̈e̘ g͡a̓m᷊e͘,̓ a᷄r̫é y̲o̒ū̦̩?͕”

The voice sounded so like his own, but at the same time - so different. Darker. Distorted. Broken. He barely had time to register what was happening before he found himself being yanked backward away from the desk, tumbling across the floor with a cry of shock. Jack dragged himself to his feet, trying to get out, get away - then his back was slammed against the wall and there was a hand at his throat.

“I͆'̾m̦ a᷉ ḷĭṫtͤl͙e̡ dͨi̇s̢a͞p̣pͪo̺ịn̤tͪe͐d͗ t͓h̓o͡u̪gh,” Anti sneered, grinning wickedly. “Tͩh̎ọu̢g̤h̤t͊ y͋o̮u͠'̭d͖ a̓t̛ l̇e̬aͧs̽tͤ lͣeͪt̏ t̫h̓e̎ w᷇o͊r̮l͏d̊ s̪e᷀e̐ m͜e͍.͗.̬.̏b̓u̗tͪ n͌o̩,͑ y̢o͒u᷇ h̔idͥ m̻e᷇ ăw͋a᷆y̠ l̕ḭk͡e ä́ di̓rͤty l͇ỉtͭt̰l̃e͙ s̜ȅcͪr᷉e᷈t̀.”

Jack clawed at the hand around his throat, but he couldn’t get a grip on it. It wasn’t fully solid. Trying to grab Anti’s hand was like trying to dig through a bin of tiny, static-charged Lego’s.

“H̾o͐w̎ m̿a̴n̒y̾ v̢i͂dͧe͖o̤s͖ dͪi̪d̐ Iͤ s͌h̖o͗w͠ ṳp͎ i͛n̉?̄ H̽oͨwͯ ma̾n̬y o͠f͎ t᷀h͘e̥m̶ d͙i̟ḑ y̩o᷈ủ c̬u͈t͎ m͋e͝ oͤu̼tͨ oͯf̗?͛”

Anti shook him roughly, clutching at Jack’s neck so tightly he found himself gasping, choking, trying to catch his breath. Anti turned away from Jack slightly, eyes landing on the computer across the room, the stream that was still going on...and he grinned, a wicked, sharp, dangerous grin.

“W̧e͒lͅl̔ y̡oͫư c̦aͫn̟'̯t͏ ću̸t̞ m͝eͫ o͎u̿t͙ o̩f̄ tͭh̭i͙s̓ o̡n̻e. Ťh̍ȇŷ c̯a̸n̄ s̐e͓e̒ mͣe̽ nͮoͯw̔,᷉ c̱a̬nͣ'͍t̙ t͂h͆eͦỷ?̪ B̜u̕t̙ i̱ť l̴ōôk̦s᷅ l͂i̐ke͍ t͌ḧ́e͕y͡ m̳i᷈g̬h̹t̓ hͤa͂v̖e̕ bͤȇe᷄n᷉ t̤ỏo̽ lͫa̘t̵e᷆.̍” He tilted his head to the side, his image glitching and delayed, the action looking far from human...and the laugh that left him was even less so. “Yͧo̿uͯ'ͣr̕e᷀ p̵a͔yͣi̜n̪g̓ a̤t̲t͞e̽n̼t͆ĩo̢n̬ nͫO͐w̋ A̕řE͘n̓'̈́T̛ y̎O᷉Ǘ?̟!͌?͌”

Jack was struggling, fighting, trying to get air, little spots appearing in his vision–

‘Leave him alone!’

A small but brave voice came to life in Jack’s head...and apparently, Anti heard him too, because the glitch flinched and took a step back. Not enough to let go of Jack, but enough to let him have some air. Anti’s grin faded and he looked...oddly tense, as far as Jack could tell from his spinning vision. He coughed, tried to warn Sam, tried to get him to leave.

“S̮t͈a̙y o͈u̪t͗ o͛f͎ t͇h͠i᷉s͆,ͨ S̥a̼m͝.ͦ”

‘No! You stay out of it! L-Leave Jack alone! ...please?’

Jack couldn’t see Sam, didn’t know where he was, only knew he was somewhere on the ground, and the thought of him being involved in this at all...it terrified him, more than being alone in the room with Anti. He struggled harder against Anti’s hold. He had to get away, had to...had to keep Sam safe...had to protect...

“...I̛ w͞a᷉s᷄ g͋e͇t̖t̾i̗n' b̎o͡r͘e̴dͤ a̴nͩy͉w᷁a͔y͐.”

And much to Jack’s shock and relief, Anti glitched and distorted, disappearing and reappearing across the room, still in the camera’s view but out of Jack’s reach. Jack let out a hoarse, strangled gasp and crumpled to the ground, coughing, trying to breath, clutching at his throat as though he couldn’t believe he was still alive.

He really, honestly, couldn’t.

Anti let out a dramatic, glitching sigh.

“S͐'͎p̀p̭o̲s͝e̾ I̾'͔l̂lͮ h̒âvͧe̦ ṭa͎ sͥa͓v͈e͈ t̔h᷇e͇ f᷀u̯n̲ u̮n̥t̜i͏l̈́ n͢e᷆x̐t᷉ ṫỉmͥe͑,ͪ J̱a᷁c̹ǩa̱b̘o᷄yͨ~”

The glitch shot one last, giggling grin at the camera, the vanished with a flurry of distorted pixels.

‘...Jack? J-Jack, are you okay?’

Jack nodded mutely, still struggling to find his breath, to find his voice.

‘Yeah. Thanks Sam. I think you might have saved my life.’

Sam preened at the words, his worries fading away in favor of a few happy squeaks and a little cuddling against Jack’s leg. Jack smiled softly. He raised his head, eyes locking on the computer, on the desk. The stream.

Oh, fuck, the stream–

Jack scrambled to his feet, scooping Sam up as he went and tucking him in his hoodie pocket, careful to keep him out of sight of the camera. He stumbled over to the desk and dragged his chair back to where it was supposed to be, dropping into it and staring into the lens. He opened his mouth - and he couldn’t think of what to say. His entire body was still pulsing with terror, his hands shaking horribly and his eyes twitching nervously as though he was sure Anti was still hiding in the corners of the room. Jack, for once in his life, was utterly speechless.

He had almost been killed.

He had almost died.

If Sam hadn’t been there, he was certain he would have.

And suddenly it was like everything came collapsing down on him at once, the adrenaline wearing off and giving way to the shock and the fear and the overwhelming emotions that accompanied a near-death experience. He shuddered and buried his face in his hands, knowing full well he was being watching, knowing full well that thousands of people were witnessing his breakdown.

“...s-sorry,” he finally managed. The word was mangled and hoarse and came out a little wheezy. “Sorry you...s-saw...fuckin’ hell...”

It was with a shaking breath and shaking shoulders that he forced himself to look up at the screen, his eyes seeking out the livestream chat.

Holy shit did you see that?!

Guys I don’t think that was fake, look at Jack

Dude Jack are you okay?!? 

That looked real. Holy fuck how did they make it look so real????

Look at him, he looks so scared

Ohmygod Jack! Are you okay?

That was some amazing editing, holy shit I’m dying

JACK! TALK TO US! PLEASE LET US KNOW YOU’RE OKAY!

He looks absolutely terrified, I don’t think he’s faking it, I think that really happened

Guys look at the marks on his neck

OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT HOW DID HE DO THAT WHAT THE FUCK

Jack? Are you alright? Please say you’re alright, I’m so worried about you!

Jack took a breath, then another, a half-hearted, shaking smile making its way onto his features.

“I’m alright,” he assured them, knowing he sounded like hell and knowing it was half a lie. “Jus’...just a little shaken, is all. I’ll be–” He broke off with a cough, wincing. “...I’ll be f-fine. Just need ta rest fer awhile. I dunno if I’ll be able to scream for ya for a few days. Heh...”

He tried to lighten the mood with a joke, and while it seemed to calm some of the chat, knowing he could still be humorous after that, many were still worried.

“...I’m...I’m gonna end the stream here, I think. Sorry for cuttin’ it short.”

And after a quick, and much quieter, goodbye, Jack turned off his camera. He sank back into his seat, eyes closed, and dragged both shaking hands down his face. What...what the hell was he supposed to do now...? Sam made a quiet questioning noise from his pocket and his breath caught, pulse skyrocketing. Sam...Sam could’ve gotten hurt. He, Jack, could have died, and–

–and suddenly he was out of his seat, staggering from the room and finding his way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. It took him almost three tries to do it, his other hand clutching the basin like his life depending on it. Then he was splashing water in his face. Trying not to throw up. Trying to calm himself down. Because if anything was going to prove to him that Anti was real, what had happened tonight certainly did it.

Jack didn’t even bother eating dinner or changing into pajamas. It took everything he had to make it to his bedroom, and once he was there he curled up on Signe's pillow, shaking beneath the covers, his phone flung to the other side of the room, Sam curled up against his chest. He couldn’t even trust technology anymore. Anti had only ever shown up in videos. He had only ever shown up while Jack was at his computer. And, perhaps, during that phone call with Mark where his perfectly-unbroken phone had shocked him. So despite the buzzing he could hear across the room, despite the number of times he saw the screen light up, no way in hell was he going to answer it. He wasn’t going to risk it.

Jack ignored it, and he ignored the rest of the world...and now, here, alone in the dark with Sam as his company, he finally let himself break. A strangled sob broke free from his damaged throat and he cried, actually openly cried, for the first time in a very, very long time.

[A/N] ...sorry? ^^;

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[5seastar]

Flirting? Now Really?

Dialogue Prompt

Jason Todd x Sassy Reader

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Yeah”

“Well you suck at it”

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

Gotham never looked darker than it did at the current moment. The only source of light was the giant bat signal in the sky. Shadows washed over streets leaving people with a sense of hopelessness. Joker had shut down the power plant and was currently holding hostages. Obviously Batman was dealing with him, which the left Gothamites to fend for themselves against the looters and other criminals.

Most people barricaded themselves in their homes. Protecting their loves one the best they could until the power came back on. (Y/N) was not one of those people. At the current moment, you were strutting down the alley near your home without a fear in the world. In reality your adrenaline was running on overdrive. Your little sister was having a sleepover with her friends and, with your parents on a vacation in California, you was in charge of keeping her safe.

Around you, (Y/N) could hear people arguing or screaming. Pulling your hood farther down over your face, you quickened your step. The last thing you needed was to get caught up in something that wasn’t your business. You just needed to get your sister back to the safety of home. 

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

Turning down the street, you came face to face to the images that your anxiety kept flashing across your mind the entire walk here. (Y/N) froze. Your eyes glued to the dilemma you would now have to deal with.

Before you, your sisters friends house was being robbed. Windows smashed out as two males with baseballs bats stood laughing as a television came flying out the window. 

“Hey! Be careful with that would ya.” The taller of the two males shouted to someone in the house. 

“Would be easier if these two weren’t struggling.” Another male growled as he stepped out onto the porch holding (Y/N)’s sister and her friend in his hand. Their mouths were taped shut and their hands bound together. “I don’t get why we can’t just kill them.” He grumbled shaking one the girls, causing her sob loudly.

Hearing the word kill ripped (Y/N) from your daze. Immediately you began looking for something to fight the males. You had only seen 3 so far and one was in the house. That was a doable fight right? 

There was nothing around you so you shoved your sleeves up to your elbows and began stomping toward the males. 

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

Jason had been watching the group of seven males loot through the house from the roof of building across the street. The current house that they were looting was of some politician in Gotham who was stealing money from some charities they claimed to be helping. So in Jason’s mind this was all karma anyway.  He wasn’t that concerned until he noted the male carrying the two girls. Immediately the male was on his feet. Taking a second glance, he noted you storming toward the males as if ready to pick a fight.

“Great.” He muttered shooting his grappling gun at the room of the home. Below he heard the hooded figure yell loudly. Much to his surprise it was feminine voice. 

“Hey.” (Y/N) shouted loudly as you stepped to the end of driveway. “Leave them alone.” You added trying to muster as much power as your body will lend you. 

The three men standing on the porch look at one another before bursting into laughter. There is a loud thud followed by crying as the girls are dropped to the floor of the porch. “You and what army girly?’ The man in the middle asks as he begins to step down the stairs toward her.

(Y/N)’s confidence begins to sway but you quickly pulled it back. “I don’t need one. I’ll kick your asses myself.” You state planting your feet firmly like your father had showed you countless time. Sure was trained in self defense but this could as an offense. 

Jason watched as the you deflected the males grasp at you before delivering a swift punch to the nose. There was the loud and unforgettable sound of a nose breaking. The thug immediately reached for his nose with a cry of pain. 

“I just broke his nose.” (Y/N) mumbled to yourself. “I just broke his nose.” You repeated louder with a loud grin on your face. That grin immediately changed to a look of fear as the other two males came barreling toward you. 

Just as they started walking, two loud gun shots rang out and the males crumbled to their knees. Behind them Jason stood confidently. His helmet shining slightly underneath the moonlight.

With seconds, (Y/N) was barreling past him to your sister. 

Jason stood their stunned for a moment. No thank you. No nothing. He looked over his shoulder to see one of the males in the house start to head toward where the two girls were trying to get out of their ropes and (Y/N) helping them. Without a second thought, you picked up the baseball bat at your feet and started to swing at the male. 

“This girl is a tough one. I’ll give her that.” He added as he ran toward where the girls were tied up and began to get them loose. Once he had gotten one of the girls untied, he instructed her to help her friend.

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

Inside there was unmistakable sound of struggling. 

“I said get off.” (Y/N) grunted trying to pull the bat that was currently held to yourr throat as far away as you could get it. Noticing the Red Hood slip into the room you groaned. “Now i gotta deal with you too.” You growled out as you stomped on the males foot and elbowed him in the gut. Immediately, the male doubled over and you slipped from out of his grasp. Behind you, you heard the click of the gun release and you sprinted toward the couch to hide.

Jason stood hunched behind the couch reloading his gun as (Y/N) scrambled over the top of it.There was the loud sound of gun fire as the couch started to get shot at.

 The two of you looked at one another for a moment before Jason spoke through his helmet microphone. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

(Y/N) shot him a look of confusion. “Are you flirting with me?”

Jason nodded as he launched himself over the couch, releasing bullet after bullet at the male before him. Looking to his left he noticed two more males coming down the stairs. He began to let his spray float their way as he ran to the next spot of cover. 

(Y/N) popped your head up from behind the couch as you looked around to find no danger. Kneeling, you began to back away toward the door. You felt something solid hit your back and quickly spun around. Looking up you noticed Jason standing there. His helmet tucked beneath his arm. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips and you let your eyes run over his facial features. He wasn’t bad looking. A scar shaped like a J decorated his face. It didn’t look bad though. Seemed to fit with the black leather jacket he was wearing and the cocky attitude he seemed to carry around with him.

“So about that flirting?’ Jason spoke pulling you away from your inspection of his face.

(Y/N) shot him a look as you shoved past him. “You suck at it.” You called over your shoulder as you felt your sister and her friend clutch onto you leg crying. “Its okay.” (Y/N) whispered gently. “I am here now.” You said softly reaching down to stroke the girls hair. “ Come on. Lets go home. We will be safe until the lights come back on okay.” You said gently taking each of the girls hands. 

Looking over your shoulder, you noticed the Red Hood still standing there.”You coming?” You asked. “Iv’e got hot chocolate you can work on your flirting.” 

Jason smirked. “ You had me at hot chocolate.” 

[oopscupcake]

Darkness - Part one

The one where Harry is drown in sorrow.

WARNINGS: Cheating. Pretty sad.

Request: Hiii ! Could you please write about Harry coming at the home of his ex-girlfriend during the night while she was sleeping because he’s been a mess since their breakup and he just can’t live without her . And the girl is still loving her or not as you want :) Have a lovely day sweetie 😘

This is my first angsty work. Hope you like it!

Darkness. All Harry can see is darkness.

The room feels flooded, flooded in memories, distant and blurry reminders of the times where he used to feel, reminders of what he used to be.

The jet black void he is physically and internally drowned in suffocates him. The weight at his chest makes it a struggle to catch a breath. Cold rules in the confines of the one that used to be the warm refuge he ran to whenever fear threatened him. The home… house he is trapped in has transformed into the monster he once so ran away from.

And he can't blame anybody. It is all his fault.

Harry hasn’t been the same since the day she left.

Pain reigns in the withered land his being is. Pain has managed to take control of his own identity. He isn’t Harry Styles, the man who once held pure bliss in his hands, anymore; he has grown into the murky wreckage of the man who used to have it alll.

Life has become a nightmare. He can’t sleep. He can’t think straight. He’s not able of looking back at the man before him captured in the mirror anymore, not when he sees in his arid eyes the void hers were full of the night she left; not when he can still feel her in his skin. The skin he decided to blemish with the touch of another woman.

Y/n is everywhere he lays his eyes upon.

He can see her on top of the mahogany piano at the back of the living room, which is now another victim of the darkness. He can’t get his eyes away from the way her skin glows with the sunlight that paints the room in honey brushes. She is swinging softly at the rhythm of the piece he’s playing. Her eyes are closed, lips curled up in a smile. A snow-white sheet is wrapped around her body, hugging all her curves and edges. Her hair is a complete mess, but to Harry, she’s beauty personified.

The melody he plays has long ago turned into a noise of dissonant chords, but he doesn’t care,

she’s everything he can see.

And for a second, just a brief second, he’s smiling. He’s smiling as just the way he used to back when he knew what genuine smiles were. Chills of bliss run down his spine and his eyes light up when his mind fools him with the cruel fantasy that everything has come back to normality.

But as soon as it comes, the grin fades away from his face and he is stabbed with the sharpest knife of pain. The image before his eyes distorts and all of a sudden she isn’t sat on the piano anymore and the sun isn’t shining as it should be.

They both are on the same small sofa, where he’s now sitting, alone. A few inches that feel like miles interpose between them. The room is hideously quiet. She isn’t grinning anymore and her eyes are shut, but not of pleasure. Tears are slowly sliding down her cheeks, just as awfully slow as the internal death he’s going through.

She doesn’t utter a single word, and that is the best thing she can do to kill him. The feeling of guilt at the recall grows bigger. His stomach twists at the memory of how her body flinched when he tried to place his soothing hand on her shoulder, and a lump intrudes in his throat when the only words she said to him come to his mind.

“I hate you”

At that moment Harry’s vision of life became countless shades darker.

His vision turns fuzzy. A painful burn invades his chest. He is raging. All he can feel is hate and disgust towards himself. He wasn’t able to value the one good thing that had happened to his life. He hadn’t the guts to face his problems and all he did was find a weak outlet to his frustration in the body of another woman as torn as him. He was too coward to acknowledge the hurting heart that faked her sleep on the left side of the cold bed each and every single night. He hurt the only thing he cared about.

And now the only thing in his life is a half empty glass of red wine.

He finds himself with the urge to throw something at the wall facing him. He needs to see something as shattered as him to feel a little less miserable. Only he could need something as pathetic.

It’s dark and his eyes are weak. He fumbles for anything within reach, coming across a wooden frame. And right then his fury trails off, as if he had touched the coldest of the objects. He doesn’t even have to make an effort to know what it is. In between his big hands, he’s holding the worst of the tortures: a picture. He can’t tell apart the shapes in it, neither he needs it to see the image, it is burned in his brain.

He is smiling, a slight blush can be noticed on his cheeks. His long curls are a mess and he remembers a drowsy Y/n running her hands all over his scalp as she drifted off. She is beside him, her head lays upon his shoulder, she’s asleep. Her lashes caress the apple of her cheeks and her lower lip is pouty. Her features ooze peace.

It wouldn’t be so painful to see that image if he didn’t remember with exact detail what happened hours after it was taken. That night witnessed the first time Y/n and Harry run out of words to express how much they loved each other. That night a simple action as a touch for others, meant the discovery of a new world to them, a world where malice didn't exist, where nobody could end up hurt, where love always won. A place where gasps, moans and tender touches was the official language: the language of love.

That is when he reaches his limit. He can’t hold back the tears anymore. With just one blink they begin to run down his face incessantly, as if they rushed out of such a toxic inside. He’s sobbing madly, sinking in sorrow. And what else can he do? He could destroy all the furniture in the house, but the mess he’d leave would only remind him even more of his current state of mind.

The salty tears dampening his face aren’t enough to ease the ache he is suffering of, but he once heard a little was better than nothing.

At some point, he loses the tiny sense of control that still remained inside of his system. He’s tired. Too tired of stifling his impulses. Part of the ache settled in his heart comes from the unnatural restrainings he’s been applying to it. He’s about to lose it. To lose any sort of health he had managed to keep during that dreadful month. And when he stands up from the padded structure he knows he isn’t the one in charge of his actions.

Not anymore.

As a plastic bag drifting through the wind, his feet drag their way outside the constraints of the house. His gaze is lost in the way his heavy steps carry him through the dim-lighted streets. It’s cold, he hasn’t bothered to take a jacket with him. The wind feels like punches to his frame, as if they were trying to let him know what he is doing is useless; as if they were attempting to convince him of giving up such a stupid impulse.

Nonetheless, his steps carry on. They don’t increase in pace, but neither do they slow down.

Eventually his walking halts. His heart starts to pump wildly when he realises where he is.

His frame is standing in front of her house. The pitch black windows visible from the outside shout the absence of activity inside. Harry builds his last pessimistic thought of the night upon that: it had been stupid on his behalf to go to her house at the wee hours of the night. But again, he wasn’t the one in charge of his actions.

It was hope.

His hand crumples into a fist and drives itself towards the wooden surface before him, hesitantly. Three faint knocks are landed on it, and at that moment he becomes aware of what he’s doing. He’s shaking, his eyes are clamped shut, his mouth desert-dry and he’s holding his breath. His blood is rushing inside of him, nerves on edge. He can hear the war of thoughts taking place inside his head: to wait, to leave.

But everything stops when the door cracks as it is opened.

“Harry?”

My writing.

Guys, I hope this didn’t suck. Feedback would be sooo appreciated. Please, feel free to tell me what you thought about it. It’d be so helpful to guide me through this new path my writing is taking!

Thanks for reading. xx

- J.

[blue-sky-and-rain]

Tell me them Jethan headcannons, NSFW & Non-NSFW!!xx😘😘 (please xx love your blog!!)

(thanks!!)

omfg anon there are SO many (also there are some from @panic-at-casualty and @lornagonigall so with their permission I’ve included them here! Unfortunately, there are more but I was an idiot and can’t place names to them and I’m not gonna post other people’s headcanons without their permission, sorry :/)

Some of these are written as if Cal is still alive, and some before Scott died etc, it doesn’t exactly match up with the current timeline.

ANYWAY::: there are so many, hence the keep reading because this is SO LONG.

Once Scott’s been caught and charged, everyone thinks that Ethan will be okay because his mind will be able to rest because Cal’s killer would have been brought to justice, but it only makes Ethan - rather than lashing out - retreat into himself and he ends up hurting himself in a way, like being reckless and drinking a lot, not sleeping, risking his life on several occasions with the paramedics because there was that tiny part of him that thought everything was going to go back to normal and even he would get his brother back (obviously he wouldn’t, but yeah) so he just declines… ENTER JACOB STAGE RIGHT who just really helps him.

Since 8am that morning (when Ethan and Jacob, who are together, woke up), Ethan has been lying on his left side, on the left side of the bed. Jacob left a while ago. it’s Christmas day, the first Christmas without cal. it’s 11am when Jacob bursts through their bedroom door. he kneels beside Ethan’s side of the bed and places something next to Ethan’s head. Ethan props himself up onto his left elbow, grabs his cute little black geeky glasses and puts them on and looks at Jacob. Jacob smiles and says “happy Christmas”. Ethan looks down and sees a ball of fluff. a kitten. Ethan sits up properly, crosses his legs underneath the bed cover and carefully picks up the lil kitten and places him on his lap. Jacob goes round to the other side of the bed and sits next to Ethan, putting his arm around him. “his name is Caleb” says Jacob. Ethan cuddles Caleb and leans into Jacob’s chest, silently wishing all his (dead omg) family a happy Christmas.

Ethan is terrified of spiders and one day, he sees one in Jacob’s and Ethan’s flat. he spends half an hour trying and failing to get it out and he’s terrified because Jacob is out but then Jacob comes home and Ethan’s shaking loads and Jacob immediately comes to the rescue and removes the spider and Caleb comes padding in and meows and Jacob ruffles Ethan’s hair and Ethan kinda blushes and says “I could have done that” and Jacob replies “I know, I did it for Caleb, not you” then he laughs and Ethan laughs too but Jacob suddenly jumps and says “spider!” and Ethan turns so quickly he nearly falls and Jacob practically collapses with laughter for tricking Ethan and Caleb, as if he senses what’s going on, walks to Ethan and nestles into his leg so Ethan picks him up. “not funny” Ethan says… while smiling.

Jacob is SUPER protective over Ethan, especially because Cal’s gone.

When Scott comes into the hospital, he grinds Ethan’s nerves and really really annoys him and in the end, he gets to: “kill me. come on kill me.” and taunts Ethan or, “I’ve already got rid of one brother, and I’ll soon make it another” but *triumphant trumpet sounds* JACOB COMES IN AND SAVES THE DAY

Set in a world where Cal isn’t dead: someone hurts Ethan and cal and Jacob both get protective and start arguing over who will sort it out and in the meantime Ethan sorts it out himself and Jacob and cal are still arguing and Ethan just appears by them and just says “sorted it.” and cal and Jacob just stare at Ethan and be like “I was going to help”, “no, I was going to help!”

In a world where Cal isn’t dead: Jacob has moved into Cal and Ethan’s flat and Ethan then tries to reach something but he can’t and then Cal and Jacob both jump in to help him get it but instead end up arguing like “I’ll get it” “no I’ll get it” “no it’s okay, I’ve got this” “no, Cal. I’ve got this” and Ethan just shouts “shut up!” and then waves around the Thing he needed and managed to get and Jacob and cal just stare at him like seriously Ethan and Ethan just laughs loads

How everyone would react to Ethan and Jacob being in a relationship:

Elle would probably go up to Ethan and just (in a kind way) threaten - is too harsh a word but we’re gonna roll with it - him and make sure he’s going to treat Jacob right and (if Cal was still alive) Cal would do the same but like fully go up to Jacob and be like “oi you better treat my brother right” and be a little harsher.

Alicia would probably be shocked and a little jealous because she still likes (loves but she won’t admit it) Ethan and she just develops hate for them whenever she sees them happy together because she will always wonder what Jacob has that she doesn’t (everything).

Charlie would be quietly supportive and just smile to himself when he finds out and whispers to Duffy “I told you, didn’t I tell you?” and Duffy would smile back and laugh at her husband and whispers back “they’re good for each other”.

David would be surprised and make it a big and loud thing because he’s so shocked and, unlike Charlie, he didn’t see it coming and Dylan would just stare at them and hope that it doesn’t end up like every other couple in Holby - a complete disaster. He has respect for Ethan as a doctor, like he had respect for Cal as one, and nods his head in acknowledgement at how wonderful they are together and how protective they are of one another.  

Connie, having dated Jacob in the past, would feel a little jealous (not as much as Alicia, mind) but know that Jacob and Ethan are much better together and - because she’s developed a protectiveness over Ethan - likes to check in to make sure everything’s okay, because in a post-Cal world she’s worried that Ethan’s searching for protection and guidance like he had with Cal but she soon sees that they really like each other and the protectiveness that Jacob gives him is the same as Ethan gives Jacob.

Iain wouldn’t care less because he’d be too focused on his own love life which includes Lily. Lily, once upon a time might have been happy or even jealous but now she has a partner and her and Ethan’s friendship has fizzled out she doesn’t really care either.

Louise and Robyn would gossip together and when they finally find out (from a not-so-quiet David), Robyn squeals in delight because she thinks they’re cute together (which they certainly are) and together Louise and Robyn rush off to tell Max and Noel - who are at the front reception desk at the time. Noel wins £10 from Max because he said they “could be dating” but then Max realises that Noel said “could” instead of “are” so Max gets his money back and the two are more focused on what the next bet is compared to Jacob and Ethan.

Ethan and Jacob are curled up on the sofa together watching movies and Jacob gives Ethan a lil soft forehead kiss because they’re Alone and he’s too embarrassed to do it elsewhere and Ethan falls asleep and Jacob removes the black Ethan Glasses (the old nice ones because they’re nice) and tucks the blanket around him and then Caleb (the kitten) pads up and curls around on Ethan’s lap and Jacob just looks down and thinks how lucky he is. And another forehead kiss for good measure.

Jacob regularly checks up on Ethan in his flat after Cal’s death and sends him little ‘how r u’ texts in the morning. If Ethan doesn’t reply within the hour he gets worried and goes around just to make sure he’s okay.

Cal keeps watch on the first few Ethan and Jacob dates to make sure Jacob is treating Ethan right but then bumps into Elle who had the exact same idea about Ethan treating Jacob right.

@panic-at-casualty’s headcanons

At Cal’s funeral, Ethan stumbles into the church drunk as fuck but Jacob silently helps him up and gets him to the front.

Ethan wearing Jacob’s sweaters which go to his knees.

They always stick up for each other. Always.

FOREHEAD KISSES

Ethan latches onto Jacob after Cal’s death because he reminds him a little of Cal and then a friendship forms.

Ethan is exhausted and falls asleep everywhere. Jacob finds him in various places for the rest of the day and has to wake him up, smiling because he’s totally smitten at Ethan’s flushed cheeks and messy hair.

Jacob always catches Ethan wearing his jumpers. Constantly. But he looks so adorable that Jacob doesn’t even mind. Besides, when he gets them back they end up smelling like Ethan - an added bonus.

Jacob tries cooking for them one time but fails miserably, setting the fire alarm off because he’s distracted by Ethan just being plain cute. They buy a takeaway instead, once Ethan has finally finished laughing.

Ethan is gentle by nature but if anyone messes with Jacob then he’s immediately furious. It’s so cute that Jacob just lets him (making sure he doesn’t get hurt of course), mentally ‘awwing’ at it all.

Jacob has a thing about carrying Ethan everywhere. Ethan looks tired? Pick him up. Time for Ethan to go to bed? Pick him up. Ethan can’t reach something? You guessed it. Pick him up.

(Darker) When Ethan is sad, which is quite a lot nowadays, J finds him on the sofa in his flat in a tiny ball and takes him into his arms. Ethan sometimes cries but always hugs back and is slightly happier by the cuddle.

(Very dark) Following Cal’s death, Ethan can’t go on anymore. Heartbroken, he attempts suicide. Luckily, he survives and ends up in the hospital. Nobody visits him - nobody but Jacob, who sits by his bedside and wipes his sweaty hair out of his face until he wakes. When he does, Jacob holds his hand and tells him that everything will be okay - one day.

(Darker) Ethan is depressed a lot of the time, filled with regret and pain over his suicide attempt. One day, in the midst of another breakdown, he shouts at Jacob: 'Just leave me, I’m not worth it!“. Jacob cries more than Ethan does and that’s the first time that Jacob says how much he really loves Ethan.

Jacob is forced to go away on a business trip, leaving Ethan alone. They miss each other immensely and are always skyping, phoning, texting, snapchatting and sending silly pictures to each other. It always cheers Jacob up, in the middle of a boring meeting, when Ethan sends him a picture of him being a dork with the attachment 'I miss you!’

Jacob and Ethan think they’re being SO secretive with their blossoming relationship but literally, everyone in the ED knows and supports it wholeheartedly and quietly.

Jacob is sad when EVERYONE forgets his birthday, but it turns out that Ethan organised a giant party and is cheered up by it. They end up sneaking off by themselves and have the best time doing absolutely nothing.

(An add-on of your idea!) One time, Caleb the kitten gets injured at home on Ethan’s day off. Ethan phones Jacob, who is at work, in a full-blown panic and a haze of tears to come home. Caleb the kitten is absolutely fine after a trip to the vets but Jacob had never seen Ethan cry quite so much.

For Ethan’s birthday, Jacob prints a picture of Ethan and Cal and puts it in a keyring. Ethan is delighted (a little bit sad, too), thanking Jacob so many times, and carries it literally everywhere. He even sleeps with it.

Jacob is heartbroken after a (silly) fight with Elle, but Ethan is there to feed him pizza and take care of him until the tears stop and tell him how it’ll all blow over in the morning. Jacob doesn’t believe him, thinking his friendship is over, but the next day learns that Ethan is very rarely wrong.

Jacob is invited to a wedding and brings Ethan along as his plus one.

Elle is so supportive of Jacob and Ethan’s relationship. She used to tease Jacob about how 'close’ they were getting but stopped when she realised how flustered Jacob got. From then on, Elle settled for cooing from a distance as Jacob gives Ethan kisses on the forehead when he thinks nobody’s looking.

(Darker?) Jacob is terrified of public speaking. So much so that he ended up having a full blown panic attack before a meeting. Ethan calmed him down, gave him a cuddle, and then stood next to him for comfort during the entirety of Jacob’s presentation (which he sailed through, by the way).

They have the best water fights in the summer (and sometimes winter). Jacob always wins but sometimes he lets Ethan, just because he loves how excited and happy he is when he 'wins’.

@lornagonigall ’s headcanons

If they faced homophobia Ethan would definitely be like "let’s just ignore it” but Jacob would be like “I’m gonna fucking kill them”

Robyn and Elle matchmaking Jacob and Ethan.

Ethan and Jacob being like “we should cook together” but they’re both rubbish cooks and end up with a mess on the kitchen counter so they’re like “JUST ORDER A TAKEAWAY THEN” and they’re both really happy with themselves. And when they’re sitting on the sofa Jacob just looks at Ethan and says “Cal would be proud of us for this”.They adopt a son and Ethan is just like “I don’t know what to name him” and Jacob says “Let’s name him Caleb”When it’s revealed they’re dating, Elle goes to Ethan and tells him to treat Jacob right and Cal goes to Jacob and threatens him to treat Ethan right or he’ll have him to deal with.Ethan can be super protective over Jacob if it came down to it like if Jacob was in trouble he’d go crazy.

Jacob would be so protective of Ethan and Ethan would be like “no Jacob no don’t do this no stop”

Cal literally being like “ok so when I’m home no business like that” an Ethan is like “CAL I’M AN ADULT AND SO IS JACOB WE ARE NOT KIDS”

Cal would literally be their biggest supporter along with Elle like they’d be texting both of them like “YOU HAVE EVERYTHING?? YOU HAVE THE WINE AND EVERYTHING RIGHT??” And Ethan and Jacob are like “we had wine?” and then Ethan shouts “HEY I FOUND THE WINE I FOUND IT” And Elle and Cal are like “why do we bother”

Jacob being super stressed about impressing Ethan but when Ethan sees that Jacob doesn’t do formal they just go for a takeaway and it’s better than any formal dinner they could’ve had

Ethan and Jacob have a daughter they’re sending off to school:Ethan: Ok, if anyone picks on you, tell a teacher, ok? *kisses his daughter on the head*Jacob: *hands her a knife* you know what you must do Ethan: Jacob nO

And Cal being That uncle that shows up randomly like “AY I GOT YOU PRESENTS” and leaves after five minutes whereas Elle advises them both on what to do when dealing with a teenage girl and after texting them comes over and is like “ffs ok let me handle this” and Jacob just stands there like whATAt the hospital everyone would gossip about then until Connie is the one that stops it because it’s “unprofessional” but really she doesn’t like that people are gossiping about them and Connie is sitting in her office one day and she sees Jacob and Ethan walk past laughing to each other and she just smiles really widelyHow everyone reacts to Ethan and Jacob dating:Connie - Doesn’t mind as long as they aren’t unprofessionalCharlie - Doesn’t careDuffy - Doesn’t care Louise - Doesn’t mind but finds the match oddNoel - Super surprisedRobyn - Surprised but finds it cute Cal - He fainted upon hearing about it Elle - Threatened Ethan but in a nice wayMax - Surprised and a bit put off by itLofty - Doesn’t careDylan - Doesn’t react

And then Cal threatens Jacob and Jacob’s like “with all due respect, take your hands off me” and Ethan is constantly trying to keep them apart, then something happens and both Jacob and Cal take it upon themselves to protect Ethan (while Ethan is trying to protect them but less aggressively) and they bond over that and Ethan’s just waiting crossed armed for them to return and he’s like “what did you two do” and they just walk in, turn to each other and laugh and Ethan’s like “what… what? guys what??” and they just continue laughing for some reason and Ethan’s just like… oh… okay they’re cool with each other.. but wtf did they DOEthan and Jacob getting harassed for being gay and Connie coming out of the hospital like “is there a problem here?” While holding a scalpel and the guy runs away screaming and she’s like “was it something I said or”

Cal and Jacob competing for Ethan’s favouritism until they’re literally doing everything for him and he’s like "I swear to gOD”

Double dates: Jez and Mickey, Ethan and JacobEthan staying at Jacob’s house and seeing it’s actually very neat and modern and Jacob’s like “please don’t tell anyone how I live”

Ethan and Jacob in the hospital helicopter crash instead of Ethan and Alicia. Jacob would lift everything off of Ethan and be like ETHAN I’M GONNA SAVE YOU and Ethan’s more concerned about Jacob. And Jacob’s like “I’LL SAVE YOU oh fuck your lEG”

Cal invites Jacob round and Ethan’s like “Cal we don’t even have milk” and Cal’s like “you go get some then” and Ethan sighs and goes to the shops and Cal tells Jacob stories about Ethan. And when Ethan comes back Jacob’s all coy about it and he subtly teases him about it and it takes absolutely ages for Ethan to catch on and finally, he’s like “Cal told you… didn’t he…?” Then Ethan asks Elle about Jacob stories.

These are general prompts I found on Tumblr from the users the-moon-dust-writings, tsutomi-goshiki, bumble-beany, not-such-an-angel.

Person A: “I didn’t know you had a soft side.” Person B: *Petting kitten while holding it to their chest* “I don’t.”Where Ethan is A and Jacob is B.

Person A: “We never got to talk about the thing.”Person B: “Oh you mean the thing where we kissed?”Person A: *Timidly* “Yeah.”Where Ethan is A and Jacob is B.

Person A: “Is that my shirt? I’ve been looking for that.” Person B: *Clearly wearing their shirt* *Whispers* “No.”Where Jacob is A and Ethan is B.

Person A: “You got me out of bed for this?’ Person B: “Our dog is wearing a unicorn horn! What part of that isn’t worth getting out of bed?”Where Jacob is A and Ethan is B.

Person A: “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” *Applies frozen peas to B’s freshly new black eye* Person B: *Flinches before taking the bag of peas themselves* “I had to at least try.”Where Ethan is A and Jacob is B, where Jacob has just tried to stand up for Ethan. Someone threatens Ethan and Jacob is all like OI SAY THAT TO MY FACE and goes all protective but gets punched.

Person A: “I am so cute, you are so blessed.” *Looks in mirror and fixes hair* Person B: *Smiles with light in their eyes* “Yes I am.”Where Jacob is A and Ethan is B.

Person A: “We are so screwed.”Person B: “We? You did that. I was just the innocent bystander!”Where Jacob is A and Ethan is B.

Person A: *smiles*Person B: *blushes* *slams hand on the table* that’s fucking it, I’m killing himPerson C: or you can man up and ask him outPerson B: k-killing..is easier.Where Ethan is A, Jacob is B and Elle is C.

Person A: Are you awake?Person B: I am now.Person A: I was just wondering…Person A: What do you think it’d be like to be a pregnant male seahorse?Person B: Really?! You woke me up for that?Where Ethan is A and Jacob is B.

Person A: *finger guns* hey, cool beans, how are you?Person B: *whispers* he’s so coolPerson C: you have such low standardsWhere Jacob is A, Ethan is B and Cal is C.

Person A: FUCK!Person B: languagePerson A: EnglishWhere Jacob is A and Ethan is B.

Person A: *has a black eye*Person B:*looks at him sternly* WHAT DID YOU DO?! NO, DON’T ANSWER THAT. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. BUT! LET ME JUST TELL YOU THAT I’M VERY DISAPPOINTED. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! YOU-Person A: i-i’m sorry!Person B: Person A: *is super sad*Person B:Person A:Person B: *clears throat* did you win?Person A: *perks up* fuck yeah!Where Jacob is a protective-over-Ethan A and Ethan is B.

like some of these are just prompts and stuff but… who’s complaining

[advocatewrites-blog]

Into the Unknown Part 1 Chapter 5

Into the Unknown

Fandom: Undertale, Coraline (book), Over the Garden Wall, Paranorman, Gravity Falls (season 2)

Characters: Frisk, Norman B., Dipper P., Mabel P., Coraline J., Wirt, Greg, the Cat, the Frog; Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore,; the Other Mother, the Beast, Agatha P., Bill Cipher, Asriel D., Chara D.,

Pairings: Not the focus. Alphys/Undyne, with mentions of Papyrus/Mettaton, sans/Toriel/Asgore, and Wirt/Sara. Due to the nature of Undertale and the dating segments, there is also interpretable Papyrus/Wirt, Undyne/Mabel, Alphys/Dipper, Napstablook/Norman, Mettaton/Norman, Mettaton/Mabel, Sans/Dipper, Sans/Norman, and Sans/Greg.

Rated a high +K for violence, mild language, horrific elements that may be disturbing to younger readers,  mentions of child abuse and bullying, character death that is sometimes permanent, and mentions of suicide that may be triggering. These elements remain relatively unchanged from their source material, which most all are for children, but discretion is advised nonetheless.

Disclaimer: Undertale was created and owned by Toby Fox. Coraline was created by Neil Gaiman and owned by Bloomsbury and Laika. Over the Garden Wall was created by Patrick McHale and owned by Cartoon Network. Paranorman was created by Sam Fell and Chris Butler and owned by Laika. Gravity Falls was created by Alex Hirsch and owned by Disney. Any other work mentioned or homage are property of their respective owners. This is a fan-made, nonprofit work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the original franchises.  

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Chapter 5

The elevator up to New Home was fast, but it still felt like it was taking too long. Coraline was glad that she was the only one in there and with no cameras, either hidden or visible. She fixed herself from the fight with Mettaton, adjusting her clothes again (he had insisted she take off her raincoat, as it wasn’t fashionable for a fight), check and see if she had gained any bruises or cuts during the fight, and thought about what Alphys had told her.

She tried not to think about what Alphys told her.

The elevator slowed and the doors opened. Coraline stepped out of the elevator in a daze.

New Home looked like the Ruins. Not just in terms of general design, but to the cracks in the brick and the uneven levels of tile. The only difference Coraline could truly spot were the houses, and only that there were more of them.

Or, perhaps, the spider houses were too small from her to see from her vantage point in the Ruins. She missed the spiders in the Ruins. The spiders in Hotland were mean and charged too much. Her adventures in the Ruins felt so far away, like the memories of her playing before she moved. The Ruins were the start of a grand adventure. New Home felt like the end of a long battle.

Froggit blocks the way.

“I didn’t think there were any more Froggits in the Underground,” said Coraline. She remembered meeting the Final Froggit in the CORE.

The Froggit stared at her. It let out a low croak, and spoke.

“A long time ago, a human fell into the Ruins. Injured by its fall, the human called out for help…

Asriel, the king’s son, heard the human’s cries. He brought the human back to the castle.

Overtime, the human child and Asriel became like siblings. The King and Queen treated the human child like their own. The Underground was full of hope.

Then…one day…the human became very ill.

The sick human had only one request. To see the flowers from their village. But there was nothing we could do.

The next day.

The next day.

…

The human died.

Asriel, whacked with grief, absorbed the human’s soul.  He transformed into a being with incredible power.

With the human’s soul, Asriel crossed through the Barrier. He carried the human’s body into the sunset. Back to the village of the humans.

Asriel reached the center of the village. There, he found a bed of golden flowers. He carried the human onto it.

Suddenly, screams rang out. The villagers saw Asriel holding the human’s body. They thought that he had killed the child.

The humans attacked him with everything they had. He was struck with blow after blow. Asriel had the power to destroy them all.

But…Asriel did not fight back. Clutching the human, Asriel smiled, and walked away.

Wounded, Asriel stumbled home. He entered the castle and collapsed. His dust spread across the garden.

The kingdom fell into despair. The king and queen had lost two children in one night. The humans had once again taken everything from us.

The king decided it was time to end our suffering. Every human who falls down here must die. With enough Souls, we can shatter the Barrier forever.

It’s not long now.

King Asgore will let us go.

King Asgore will give us hope.

King Asgore will save us all.

You should be smiling, too. Aren’t you excited? Aren’t you happy?

You’re going to be free.

The walk from New Home to the castle was long, and once the other monsters left her, lonely. No one else stopped her as she reached the castle. She entered the Throne Room with hesitance, feeling like a lost little girl.

Coraline summoned all the bravery she had and looked up at the King.

The throne room was thick with garden. Golden flowers and leaves filled so much of the room that the throne looked like an afterthought. Perhaps it was, for Coraline would later see the one throne covered in sheet and tucked into the corner of the room.

Right now, her eyes were on its sole occupant.

“Dum dee dum…oh? Is someone there? Just a moment. I have almost finished watering these flowers…here we are!”

The King of All Monsters turned to Coraline.

He looked like Toriel. Not exactly like Toriel, of course. His horns were much larger, and perhaps they should have been menacing. A mane of golden hair sprung from his head and decorated his chin. Even the purple gown he wore was similar.

“Now, how can I—”

King Asgore stopped as he saw Coraline. He flinched, ever so slightly, as if Coraline had struck him. He turned away from her, eyes looking down on the flowers.

“I so badly want to say, ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’” said King Asgore. “But…you know how it is. You know what we must do.”

“You’ve done well, child,” said one of the lost souls. “But she won’t play fair with you. Flee, while your soul is still yours.”

“She grows desperate,” said another. “She did not prepare for you, the way she did for us. She will treat you like any other child that comes into her possession. She will think she can still trick you.  You must not let her.”

The Other World was becoming a formless mass, the same way the space beyond New Home had been. The only thing that was left was the house, and somewhere beyond that, the way to the Underground.

This was it, Frisk knew. The moment of truth. The unravelling time.

*File Saved.

The Other Toriel sat in her chair, and stared at Frisk with black button eyes. She did not look much like Toriel anymore, they realized.  Toriel was tall, and her horns and teeth were sharp, and she was a ghostly pale. But Toriel always had a way of making herself as non-threatening as possible. Now, it was like the Other Toriel was not even trying. There was no point for her to keep up the illusion, maybe.

“You’ve come back,” said the Other Toriel. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Frisk reached into their pocket and pulled out the lost souls. The Other Toriel reached for it, with fingers that were more like knives than Toriel’s claws, but Frisk pulled back.

Exit first, they signed.

The Other Toriel was silent for a minute. Her face was unreadable, but Frisk could tell she was not happy.

“Very well,” said the Other Toriel. “Follow me.”

She stood from the chair, and Frisk followed them down the stairs.

They should have expected it to be in the hidden corridor, they realized.  Even if the rest of the Underground had been moved in this world, it was where they were always meant to go when they asked.

It was too easy, Frisk realized.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for out there,” said the Other Toriel, in a tone that made it sound like she knew what she was talking about. “I’ve seen your family. The real one. You’re so lucky I made this world after those monsters you care so much about. Your family does not love you. Not like me.”

She did love them, Frisk realized, in the same way Frisk loved real butterscotch cinnamon pie.

T-O-R-I-E-L, they signed, and this time they made sure to sign the E right.

“After all the trouble you cause them?” The Other Toriel asked.

Fix, they sighed.

“You won’t break them out of the Underground. You couldn’t even save yourself,” said the Other Toriel. “And what do you expect to find when you do go back? Need I remind you why you climbed that mountain in the first place?”

They approached the door.

“But if you don’t believe me, go ahead,” said the Other Toriel, and she opened the door.

The other side was dark, darker, darker still. They knew nothing was going to be on the other side, anyway. They let themselves Check, and found three souls and something else waiting for them in the darkness.

“Well?” The Other Toriel asked.

Frisk took a deep breath, summoned all of their Determination, and threw themself at the Beldam.

It barely constituted a Fight. The Other Toriel was big, but she was not heavy, and she toppled over easily. In the darkness, three souls reached out for the Beldam and pulled her in closer. Frisk pulled themself off the ground and slammed the door shut.

The door shook and shuttered as the Beldam banged on it from behind.  They forced themselves on it. The Beldam shirked behind them.  More hands joined theirs. WD Gaster leaned against the door.

“   'HM����F�|҃�w6 !“ He said.

Frisk could imagine what that meant. They ran, and scrambled up the stairs to the house.

The house was still there. The way back home had to be as well. They threw open every door, checked every closet, and found themselves tumbling into the room under renovations.

They were forced to duck as they entered. The door was a lot bigger than the tunnel it led in to. They did not take long to observe their surroundings, for the screams of the Beldam were getting closer.  They crawled.

When the tunnel ended, Frisk found themselves tumbling into a house.

As soon as they caught themselves, they moved an armchair in front of the door, lest the Beldam found a way to escape. There was a lock on the door, and the scavenged the house for the pairing key. It was only when they found it, and the door was locked, that they allowed themselves to breathe.

They were in a house. It was not Toriel’s house, or even a house they recognized.  It was a very old house—it had an attic under the roof and a cellar under the ground and an overgrown garden with huge old trees in it. It was not really one house, it was much too big for that.  It was called the Pink Palace.

They found other people. Two women lived in the flat below, and invited Frisk over for tea. The thought of tea made their stomach churn. One man lived in the flat above, and talked to them for a bit about the mice he was training.

Yet they could not find the people who lived in the flat they found.  Eventually, the sun set, and their exhaustion caught up to them. They had to find a place to stay for the night. If nobody was in the flat, then maybe they wouldn’t mind if they stayed the night.

The flat was lived in at one point. Only half the house had been decorated with photos and knick knacks. The other half lay in cardboard boxes that had yet to be unpacked. A thin layer of dust covered everything. Most of the food had gone bad, but Frisk found some crackers that sated their hunger for now.

There was a doll in one of the bedrooms that looked a lot like one of the girls in the photo. It stared back at them with black button eyes. Frisk decided to avoid that room, and instead settled on the armchair.

They had not slept for very long, when they were awakened by a black cat.

It was larger than most house cats, but not by much. Its fur was dirty and matted, its ears were chipped, and its whiskers stuck out and bent at odd angles. It stared back at them with dazzlingly blue eyes, too focused for any wild animal.

Frisk decided to wave.

“Good morning,” said the Cat. “You are not Coraline.”

Frisk tilted their head in confusion. They tried to sign, but the Cat’s expression did not change. Instead, they got up and looked around the house for a notepad and a pen.

Do you live here? They wrote. Their handwriting was messy and there would be words they could not spell, but it was an effective way of communicating for now.

“No,” said the Cat. “I take it you don’t, either.”

Sorry. Frisk wrote. Thought it would be okay if no one else was here.

“Yes, I wonder why no one is here,” said the Cat. “I’ve been here many times. There was a girl here. She was rude and obnoxious and stuck her nose into things she didn’t belong, but she was here.  I can’t find her this time. Not here, not in the other world.”

The Cat leaned in close. “Instead, I find you. So where is Coraline?”

Frisk’s breath hitched. This must be Coraline’s house. They arrived here when they Reset. Coraline must have filled their place. Coraline must be in the Underground now. And without the ability to Save or Reset…

The Cat backed away from Frisk.

“I take it you know?” They asked.

Frisk nodded. They could still fix this, they decided. They had to go back to the Underground anyway. If they Reset now, maybe Coraline would come back.

I’ll find them, they wrote, and *Reset.

Author’s Note: End of Part 1! Since I missed the first week of posting, I’ll skip the week off. Part 2 will start next week, and we’ll go a little more into the woods.