#this is tbh just an attempt to bring a dozen notes into one text and it may still contradict itself or things I have already written

[avirael]

Random musings about A'vi that may or may not make sense...

I promised I would write down a bit of my thoughts on A'viloh's feelings and probably specifically about Haurchefants since that is a little vague in my writing.

But before we speak of Haurchefant me have to speak of A‘vi and we have to consider that his own mind is his own worst enemy sometimes. If there is a very unreasonable way to feel bad about a situation he can and will find that way!

In a way we also would have have to speak about his upbringing and about Laqa of course and weirdly enough also about Thancred, although most of the last is pretty much just some idea in A'vi's head.

Not only is A'vi still confused because of what Thancred did before they parted ways -even if he tries to ignore that- but of course he also still loves Laqa.

Laqa was always there als long as he remembers. A friend, a lover, but most important maybe a person he could rely on, someone who protected him. And also to be honest a person he could hide behind, a person that would make the difficult decisions so he wouldn’t need to.

A’vi wouldn’t ever admit it and it’s probably not even conscious but some part of him - the part that refuses to change, that fantasises of going back to how things used to be - has been trying to replace all of that ever since Laqa is gone.

In a way Rael fulfills these criteria too. Rael would fight for him, care for him, protect him, just like Laqa did. This is a big part of why A'vi is so focused on Rael, occassionally so much that it gets mistaken for being something romantic. But in contrast to Laqa, Rael would in the end not coddle him. They wouldn’t spare him the struggle, the heavy lifting, the difficult decision making. And of course ultimately Rael also isn't availabe or fitting as a love interest for A'vi. And while their friendship means the world to A'vi, I think in the end he still needs something more than that maybe...

So back to Thancred for a second, because i think A'vi is not in love with Thancred.

If he is in love with anything or anyone apart from Laqa at this point, then it’s with the idea of not feeling so damn lost and lonely anymore.

In a way maybe that means he could be in love with Thancred but he’s not really in love with the person and more with the idea what he could be for him.

He is entranced by his charming behaviour, of course. People being nice to him is one thing. Kindness alone is too foreign for him still. Apart from Laqa there weren’t many people who were nice to him, especially not in the same way Thancred or Haurchefant are.

But Thancred or Haurchefants flirting with him? He is helpless about that! And it keeps on happening and when it doesn’t he misses the attention maybe? Yes, maybe he has a little crush on either or both of them.

But also, there was this moment after Ifrit when Thancred made him feel understood. A’vi saw Thancred struggling. A similar fight. Feeling not good enough. Trying your best and still failing. Wanting nothing more than to be useful for someone. Trying to live up to some shadow that isn’t there anymore.

And later that feeling of not having control over your own life. The pain caused because of oneself. The guilt he can either live with or decide to die of. Preferably in some grand sacrifice. For a good cause. Maybe that’s all he would ever be good for.

Their coping mechanism couldn’t be more different of course but something about their struggles is so similar. Being not alone in their misery is such a tempting thing. As so is maybe, just maybe, being able to finally move forward. But the important thing in context to HW here is that after the whole Ifrit-thing, when A‘vi considered going on a date with Thancred, this idea was born out of his hope, and only that, to maybe be able to move on from that loss he experienced. And all the fawning about him later, when it was already very clear to him that Thancred wasn’t interested at all, was more A’vi making heart eyes at the idea of being able to be in love with someone else. The idea of being free - just like Thancred - seems so nice to him. Free to do what he wants, to love who he wants and all of that without being scared or feeling horrible about it. Because feeling horrible and guilty and selfish and treacherous simply for still being alive is buried so deep inside of him even though all he wants is to be happy.

To be honest, even if things had been different in either of these two cases (the „date“ and Thancred‘s „disinterest“), I am very sure A‘vi would have found a way to chicken out of it last second. It was never a real possibility, just an impossible thing, so it felt okay for him to dream about it.

With Haurchefant however this IS a real possibility! He is very clearly interested and seems honest enough about it. But while there’s this voice in Avi’s head that says “I want this”, there’s still this other one that says “I can’t! I don’t deserve this! I am a horrible person!“ He rejects Haurchefant because there is someone else on his mind and in his confusion he can’t even tell anymore if this is just one person or two.

So he doesn’t take this risk, all while he thinks he might honestly like Haurchefant. He is just not sure if this is in a friends-only way or if it could develop to be more.

You may say now that this spares him some pain when Haurchefant inevitably meets his fate in the end but exactly the contrary would be the case somehow. Not only does he feel unworthy and ungrateful that someone as kind as Haurchefant died for him because he loved him despite A‘viloh not being able to return these feelings. No he feels like he missed yet another chance! He realises that maybe there will always be hurt and it’s just a matter of how well you spent the time you have. He feels like his insecurities, his awkwardness, his doubt and fear of getting hurt always kept him from making the best out of what he is given, may it be with Laqa or anybody else - time not used as well as he could have.

[the-redhead-who-writes]

His True Colours

“We finally get Jack’s green hair back! ...But what do we lose in return?”

Readers beware, you’re in for a scare! ...I’m only kidding. This is just a story idea I’ve been messing with! ‘Cause let’s face it: if Jack ever does dye his hair again, you know he’s gonna make a big deal out of it. So dorks, here’s a late-night spook/theory for you to enjoy!

Links: AO3

It’s been a few weeks since Jack returned from his “How Did We Get Here?” tour, the shows having gone down a smashing success. Those in attendance raved about the theatrics from the natural born showman, with everything from the audience interaction to the special effects working to create an unforgettable performance.

The fans that couldn’t make it to the shows contributed to the hype online, taking to social media and creating a tidal wave of incredible stories, edits, and art. The pieces ranged with everything from fluff to angst, starring Jack and all of the beloved Egos.

Jackieboyman fist bumping Spider-Man; Schneeplestein leering menacingly at the viewer, wielding a needle that definitely wasn’t regulation length; Chase with a variety of flower crowns. The works radiated with the passion and love the community held for both Jack and his characters.

And then, there was Anti.

Cryptic zalgo text littered every fans feed. The familiar lines of "D͏i͞d ̷yo͞u ̵miss̢ me̢?̧” and "You͘ s͢t̢o͝p͟ped pay̕in̛g̢ a͟tt͝eńtio͝ǹ!̡" were eerie reminders of the virus’s ever-lingering presence. The fandom was itching with pent-up fervour, as though Anti had somehow wormed his way under their very skin.

Poems, theories, art; he had it all. 

The only difference was something that the untrained eye might not notice.

It was now old news that Jack had dyed his once-green hair back to its natural brown shade after years of the trademark look. And yes, the fans were sad to see it go. Each Ego sported one of Jack’s varying shades of green. It had been around for the creation of Anti, Schneep, Marvin... everyone!

The community moved on though, deciding that even if Jack had his brown hair back, the Egos could still keep their signature shades.

Except for Anti.

After all, Anti was a virus who depended on Jack’s body to survive. He didn’t have his own, so he should share Jack’s traits, right? It might not have made perfect sense, but the community seemed to accept the general idea, as was evident with nearly every piece of Anti art mirroring Jack’s brown hair, with the rest of the Egos staying the same.

No harm done, it was just the fandom taking creative license.

Cut to another morning upload, where Jack has just posted a brand new “SepticArt” video, the theme being art related to the tour or that period of time while he was away.

He’s as upbeat as usual, excitedly chattering away about all of his favourite moments while pouring over dozens of brilliant submissions.

A few minutes into the video, Jack pulls up an edit of Anti on stage at one of his past shows. He makes a remark about its complexity, and how well done it is, before noting the caption at the bottom:

“A little Anti takeover from Jack’s show in Texas! Forgive the blurry edges, kinda new to this style. And tbh, I’m still not used to brown-haired Anti. Looks good, but I miss our green Glitch Boy. Wonder if we’ll get to see him again haha.“

Jack laughs, reflexively running a hand through the front of his messy hair that’s not tucked into his beanie.

“Yeah, I got that question a lot while I was on tour. And I’m not sure; I mean, never say never, but I’m pretty happy with my natural hair. It’s less of a pain in the ass to take care of, that’s for sure.”

His hand lingers in his fringe for just a second more before he thanks the artist and carries on.

This time it’s a Marvin picture; the Magician is skillfully shuffling a deck of playing cards, grinning. His neon green bangs hang messily over his signature cat mask.

Jack points out his love of the bold line use, though he pauses at the hair. His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but his smile is still as bright as ever.

Then there’s a sketch of Chase, who’s excitedly comparing a befuddled JJ to the box art of the Monopoly Man while they try to play said board game.

Jack chuckles, hand going to rub his throat absentmindedly.

A watercolour of Anti from the back, his dark hair a stark contrast silhouetted against the bright green background of a not-so-friendly looking Sam whose teeth glint with moisture.

Jack grips his mouse a bit tighter.

Schneeplestein happily writing a postcard on some tropical beach, lab coat and all, dark green roots visible under his hat.

Jack cracks his neck.

As the video carries on, there’s a distinct tension in the YouTuber: his body twitches imperceptibly; his hands clenching into fists before quickly loosening; he can’t stop touching his throat.

A newcomer to Jack’s channel might write this off as excitement, his energy getting the better of him. The more experienced members of his community, however, begin to feel nervous.

Still, Jack is as taken with his community’s artistic endeavours as always. The smile on his face proves that.

It’s wide, teeth bared for all to see.

The video is almost finished, with Jack coming to the last piece. He once again thanks everyone who participated, saying how he would be nothing without them.

The theorists release a breath. 

Everything was fine; just their typical overactive imaginations. Nothing to worry about.

With an eager grin, Jack pulls up the final entry. 

It’s a stunning digital drawing of a bathroom mirror taken from the YouTuber’s perspective as he stares at his reflection, clutching a porcelain sink.

It smirks back, smile unnaturally wide. He eyes Jack with a blackened gaze, eagerly assessing him for even a hint of weakness. Blood from several crude, deep cuts in his throat drips down into his shirt collar. The knife responsible lays in the sink, crimson coating the blade.

From the angle, you’d swear it was Anti looking back at himself, sickly pleased with his deranged handiwork. The tell is the gauges and Jack’s lack thereof; the man you’re seeing the perspective from is without them.

Jack stares at the drawing, his gaze transfixed. For a split-second, you think to refresh the video, believing it to have lagged. The music Robin added into the background is gone, and the webcam footage seems frozen...

And then he’s throwing his head back, laughing as he grips his sides.

“That’s a helluva drawing! God, do you see the detail?! Anti looks badass!”

He’s positively giddy, scanning every inch of the artwork with rapt enthusiasm. He begins to say something about the shading as he brings the picture out of fullscreen view. Then his laughter cuts off abruptly, smile tightening. He scrolls down to highlight the artist’s note:

“Those 20 hours were all worth it! Here’s my entry for Jack’s #SepticArt event; I call it “Two-Way Mirror”! I’m really happy with how it turned out, though I was a little worried about how I’d draw the differences for Anti’s reflection. With his brown hair, how can you even tell the two of them apart? 😆 Anyway, hope you guys like it!”

His expression becomes flat. He stares with an unwavering intensity that leaves goosebumps on your skin.

“...The same...?”

Jack mutters the phrase so quietly, it’s almost indecipherable.

“You really think... we’re the same?”

A hollow chuckle spews from his lips, and then it grows into a laugh; high-pitched and cold. In a blur, he slams his fist down onto his desk, and even off-screen, you can hear his keyboarding shattering. His lips are pulled back into a hideous snarl, a grotesque mask of fury.

“I’m nothing like him. N̞͔̤̤̺͖ͅOT̼̱̪̬̹͉H̗͝I̶̲̰̘̠̹N͉͚̖̤̳̻G͓͈̩̣͎̝͞.

The man’s eyes widen fearfully, seemingly at the sound of his own voice. His rage gives way to panic as he falls forward in his seat, clutching his head with a pained groan.

Jack’s body shudders, racked by waves of tremors as his knuckles strain white, nails digging into the arms of his chair. The camera feed is breaking apart, glitching between frames of Jack clawing at his forearms, his neck. His breathing is erratic, mumbles falling from his mouth - desperate, rambling pleas.

Then he’s still.

Too still.

Jack lets out a heavy breath, relieved - no, satisfied - before sitting up slowly. His beanie has been knocked off, his usual fluffy hair on full display.

All eyes are immediately on his neck and - oh... it’s untouched. For a moment, the viewers feel a spike of relief, hearts slamming into their throats. But then Jack opens his eyes, and their blood runs cold.

Black. Darker than any art or edit could even attempt to capture.

He sits back, almost lounging in Jack’s gaming chair, as he takes a deep breath in. Cracking his knuckles, he rolls his neck in a series of jerky moves before closing his eyes again. And in one smooth motion, he runs his hand through the front of Jack’s hair.

His fingers pass through the strands, adjusting the colour as it melts in. The brown lightens to blonde, then grows brighter. The green hue radiates with an unnatural sheen.

Stopping at the fringe, he lowers his hand to reveal the change; familiar, yet not. Wrong.

Anti opens his eyes, a wickedly pleased smirk playing across his lips as he leans toward the camera.

“Are͏ ya͝ ̡f́uck͞i̛n̛’ ̛ha͠p͞py͏ now̶?͝”

He giggles with twisted glee, hair falling into his eyes as he tips his head forward. Then he stops, and looks up through his bangs, glaring into the camera with a ferocity that dares anyone watching to defy him.

“Ỳou͡’̴ve͠ ͠had̷ yǫur ͢fun, bu̧t̢ d͡on’t fuc̕ki͞n̸’͟ ͝f̷orģet w̢ḩo ͠I ̷a͘m͢, w̢ḩat ͠I ̷a͘m͢. A̧n̸d thąt͠’s n̛oţ h̢im.͘”

The camera is shoved to the floor. The lens cracks, spider-webbing across the screen before it cuts to black. Echoing laughter grows distant as Anti walks away.

There is no second upload that day.