#last week ish one of the staff here told me no matter how far i transition that shell always see me as a woman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr Inc. is funded by 13 investors.

#last week ish one of the staff here told me no matter how far i transition that shell always see me as a woman

ilalos · 3 years

Text

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

661 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: ii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

chapter 1 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

ao3

word count: ~3k

You and Hawks’s second meeting.

warnings: mutual pining, shy reader-ish, ooc hawks, the fun stuff, fluff ; )

|||||||||||||

You didn’t hear anything from Hawks for the next few days.

It was a fleeting disappointment, but you took his lack of contact as truth and reality. Some big shot, pro-hero wasn’t going to waste time texting a no-name, nobody barista, no matter how mutually flirty of an interaction was shared.

Prior to actually meeting Hawks, you had seen the tabloids that his name spilled over. Shady stories of midnight rendezvous with models and celebrities, sultry pictures of his own on magazines at grocery store checkouts were a lot of your knowledge of him. He was a very eligible and active bachelor, everyone knew it.

You reminded yourself that you didn’t mean shit to him, and moved on.

Until about a week from your first meeting, late into the evening, your phone buzzed.

You thought it was one of the team from the teashop, asking another question about a new blend you had made.

Your eyes widened at the text that you did see:

[unknown number]: hey angel ;) do you work tomorrow? it’s supposed to be a cold one and i’d love to try another one of your drinks

You stared at your phone screen for a moment, mouth going dry before typing out a reply.

[you]: is this hawks?

The next reply came only seconds later.

[unknown number]: the one and only ;))))

He... actually texted me?

Holy shit.

Another message came in.

[unknown number]: don’t tell me you go handing out your number to folks at work all the time :^( you’re gonna hurt my :^((( feelings :^((((

You deadpanned at Hawks’s texts.

You couldn’t believe the number two, pro hero texted like a normal twenty-some year old.

It was endearing, if not at the very least comforting.

[you]: nah, just you tailfeathers 😉

[you]: i work tomorrow morning, opening shift. 6 am. think you can handle it???

You giggled at your own texts, unable to hold back when you saw Hawks continuing to type. You quickly typed in a contact name.

[tailfeathers]: E

[tailfeathers]: Z

[tailfeathers]: i’ll be there bright and early ;)

Part of you, the rational, realistic part, doubted that. Sure, Hawks had texted you, but he wouldn’t actually show, right? He was a busy, busy man. He’d probably get sidetracked.

Don’t get your hopes up.

You tried to remain practical.

But, you also liked pushing your luck.

[you]: see u then!!

[you]: btw your contact name is ‘tailfeathers’

[you]: ;)

[tailfeathers]: what if i told you yours is ‘barista angel’

[you]: i’d ask if you saw my name on that conveniently small piece of paper i gave you

[tailfeathers]: i would say yes

[tailfeathers]: but idk angel seems like a more proper title for u

You felt your still and heat rush to your face.

He can’t be flirting with you over text. What the FUCK.

[tailfeathers]: only angels can make coffee as well as u 😇

“What a bastard,” You shook your head, sighing. Part of you was glad he made it more clear your identity was tied to coffee and not affections.

[you]: u flatter me

[tailfeathers]: i only speak the truth ;)

You bit your lip as you typed out the next reply, well aware that the evening sky had darkened and you needed an adequate amount of sleep to actually make it to that morning shift.

[you]: i’m about to knock out so i can actually be alive for my shift, but i’ll see you tomorrow bird boy

Hawks’s replied quickly as seemed to be a trend with him.

[tailfeathers]: bird boy!!!!!

[tailfeathers]: i’m moving up in the world

[tailfeathers]: see u then angel

As you got ready for bed, going about your mundane routine and preparing the coming day, you had no idea that Keigo was across the city, cradling his phone to his chest with a wobbling smile on his face, a foreign sensation filling his chest.

He was very excited to see you again, even if it took a few days to get that far.

|||||||||||||||||||

The next day was indeed, terribly cold. Despite bundling up in a thick, woolen coat and a knit scarf, you nearly froze on the way to work. Despite the chill, the rest of the morning crew made it in just a few minutes after you.

“I’ll be in back until there’s a rush, alright?” You called to the three openers, all silly college students from the local university. They were all sort of dense, but they were loveable.

“Okay!” One smiled as they flitted to the front counter and seating area.

The back of the teashop was a smaller commercial kitchen, all steel tables and cooking implements. Lots of tools to actually do your job. Though you were the maker of the tea blends for the shop, a lot of your work consisted of packaging and fulfilling orders as well as design work for the teashop’s online presence. Truthfully, you were more of a jack-of-all-trades type of worker, but nearly all of it confined you to the safety of the back kitchen. The lack of stimuli made it easier to work effectively, quirk activated or otherwise.

You tied your apron tight around your waist, adjusting a few of your buttons and smoothing yourself down. The back remained frigid in the mornings, and you could only be glad you were layered up for the day. You pulled out your company-issued tablet and began tapping away with the stylus as the shop prepped to open.

You were too absorbed in your work to hear the bell at the entrance, just minutes after unlocking the door.

Keigo? Elated. His last week of hero work had been all long hours and late nights. His wings had grown sparse with overuse, barely carrying him properly through the skies. When he saw that his office day at his agency was due to be particularly cold, he knew it was the perfect excuse to give you a visit.

You hadn’t been constantly on his mind. Rather, you perked up in his thoughts semi-reliably, but briefly a few times a day. Most affections were forgettable, he didn’t have time for anything other than whorish trysts with other heroes and those of higher society who knew how to keep their mouths (somewhat) shut.

Part of him, the part that the Commission’s ruthless training created, hated the way how you were sticking with him.

Another part of him, the kinder, softer, very repressed one, recognized his feelings and hid them safely. Vulnerable things required heavy protection.

When Keigo reached the teashop, early as dawn crept over the urbanscape, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the rolling smell of roasted coffee beans and black tea.

Only a few other patrons were there, eyes wide as the top ten hero gave them a trademark wave, waltzing to the counter with his signature swagger.

The workers (none of them being you) gawked at him, jaws half to the floor.

“Hawks?!” One of them exclaimed. “Oh my god, can I get an autograph?!”

(Keigo carried a few pens on him for occasions like this.)

The worker, a young thing with a shock of short blue hair, wrestled under the counter for a notebook. Another of the workers also attempted to wrangle a bit of receipt paper from the fussy machine, flashing him a nervous smile.

“Of course, autographs are a given,” He winked at the two of them, sauntering up to the counter. “On one condition, though. Could you tell me if (Y/N) is working?”

The morning shifts workers proceeded to gawk more.

You sat deep in concentration, thoroughly organizing yourself for the day with lists and plans. You were only startled from your work when one of the other baristas popped her head back, eyes wide.

“Uh, (Y/N), I know you’re busy, but Hawks is here for you?” She stammered, saying his name incredulously and pointing a shaking finger out at the counter.

You could hear his silky laugh just beyond the precipice.

Your mouth quirked up in surprise.

I didn’t expect him to actually come.

It was a pleasant surprise though, one that made your heart stutter in your chest.

You put down the tablet, making your way to the front of the shop.

Hawks leaned down on the front counter, signing various papers and items that the staff and patrons of the tea shop had given him. His smooth voice echoed beautifully around the shop, mixing with the din of the soft music that provided ambient sound.

Thoroughly absorbed in his fan interaction, you leaned against the door frame, watching him as he had yet to notice you.

(You tried to look nonchalant, but it was probably a bit of ogling.)

Hawks’s scarlet wings appeared sparse, but still twitched and fluffed every few moments. He was dressed in his hero uniform, visor pushed up into the feathery, front bits of his hair. With all of his typical regalia on, he seemed out of place in the slow din of the coffee shop. He seemed to shine so brightly, making himself a focal point without even trying.

Without the protection of his visor, Hawks’ honeyed eyes seemed brighter, luminous from the inside out. Even from your distance, you could watch their topazine shine dance in the soft lighting.

His gaze drifted to you and positively lit up.

(You didn’t think that was possible.)

Your stomach fluttered.

“Well, if it isn’t (Y/N)!” Hawks beamed you a smile that could’ve put the sun to shame. It made something deep in your chest thrum. “For a minute there, I thought you’d pulled my leg about working today.”

“Oh, never, ” You grinned, moving directly in front of him at the counter, your shocked coworkers parting for you. “I tend to work in the back if the rest of our lovely staff is present.

You gestured to your very starstruck coworkers who all gave various gawking looks before falling away, shyness obviously overtaking them.

It wasn’t like you weren’t feeling similarly, but your nervousness was better hidden. Facades were, in fact, a trained skill in maintaining and god, if you weren’t a master.

But, Keigo had his own mastery in spotting cracks in people’s veneers. And, easily, he saw your tension and nervousness. For anyone with less trained interpersonal skills, they wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing. But to Keigo? Your anxiety was as clear as the light you added to a room. A few of his feathers twitched, picking up on the rapid beating of your heart across from him.

“What can I get you?” You asked, speaking through any of your fears, cracking him a genuine smile.

Keigo returned it without thought, chest warming.

“Mmm... Surprise me. Something to help me get my day started.” Keigo loved the way your eyes lit up when he talked, a little bit of knowingness between the two of you sparking.

“Same specifications as before? Hot and sweet?” You asked, already grabbing a cup, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that you couldn’t not laugh. He rested his elbows on the counter and leaned over the top of it, regarding you with half-lidded eyes, “You remember my preferences? I feel honored.”

“You should,” You winked. If he was going to shamelessly flirt, you would right back.

Truthfully, your personal attention made Keigo swoon like a goddamn schoolgirl. He could feel sweat growing on his palms, making the leather of his gloves stick. Normally, the sensation would’ve ticked his more anxiety-ridden tendencies into overdrive, but he could hardly focus on them. He was too busy watching you flit around behind the counter.

“So,” You began, activating your quirk and beginning your process. “Why so few feathers? Get roughed up?”

Keigo chuckled, flexing what feathers he did have left for emphasis, “Basically. I have to give them a few days to regrow. A couple nasty days in a row means a couple days recovery.”

You hummed, turning to the espresso machine. Before pouring the shot, you gave him a little smile with the cutest quirk in your lips, “I’m sure you more than deserve the rest.”

Oh, that made his proverbial dick swell.

Someone, a very nice, stranger barista, angel, telling him he deserved something kind? And, there wasn’t an edge of dishonesty in you. If anything, there was an earnestness in your quirk-blackened eyes that made Keigo nearly scared of the amount of vulnerability you gave him so freely.

He wondered if you showed that to all of your patrons.

(You didn’t.)

You turned behind the counter, quirk activated and swirling. The familiar blending of your senses made your teeth ache and head burn with the overabundance of stimuli, but you worked through it. You reached through the external sensations to manifest your idea and feeling into a conceivable reality.

You dumped any number of syrups and shots into the cup, placing it (and a lid) on the counter in front of Hawks. Warm smells of cardamom and cinnamon tickled both of your noses as you nodded down, “Let that cool for a sec, then give it a taste. I need a comprehensive review.”

Hawks plucked off one of his gloves, taking the steaming cup in his hand, looking down at the foam. His gaze flickered around the two of you, noting that the few civilians and coworkers once surrounding him had left you two with a small bit of privacy.

“What’s the inspiration for this one?” Hawks gave you a downright sweet, knowing look.

“Take a sip and guess,” You nodded down to the cup again, idly going to wipe down the counters with a rag slung in your apron.

Hawks blew on steaming liquid, throwing back his head to take a decently sized sip. You had to tear your gaze from the bob of his throat.

Keep it in your pants.

While you were suppressing being horny for the number two hero, Keigo was suppressing being horny for a fucking beverage.

The flavor hit his tongue and throat and danced. It was warm, like the last one, spilling hearth-like heat into his chest and extremities. But, this drink tasted literally spiced, like it had some sort of pepper in it (according to Keigo’s untrained, pitiful palette). His wings ruffled, feathers rustling and twitching with the taste of the drink. Despite the heat flooding his body, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose as waves of subtle pleasure rolled through Keigo’s body.

He placed the cup back on the counter, staring you down with incredulity.

You, cutely cheeky as ever, just smiled and crossed your arms over your chest, “Are you a fan?”

“It’s... spicy. How. Why. Is this even coffee?” Hawks asked. Despite his questioning, he took another sip, shuddering at the comforting heat it gave him.

“There’s coffee in it, or, espresso,” You couldn’t help feeling a bit smitten with the way Hawks looked at you. Disbelief wasn’t an expression you saw many heroes wear, especially not one with a reputation like Hawks’s. Yet, there he was, in front of you, staring at his cup like you just served him battery acid and grass.

“If that’s the case, gimme the rundown, angel,” Hawks peeled off his other glove, setting the pair on the counter. He surprised you as he shrugged off his lined jacket, plopping down in a nearby stool.

You hadn’t ever really seen this much of Hawks, not in his hero uniform anyways. Plenty of him was available for viewing due to his various modeling ventures, but seeing him in the flesh was far better. The black shirt of his hero costume stretched over the lean, sculpted muscles of his arms. He certainly wasn’t built in the same way other top heroes were, but from what you could see (read: drool over), Hawks certainly wasn’t lacking—

“See something you like?” Hawks raised an eyebrow while taking another sip, devilish curl to his lips.

You really wished you had the bodily control to stop the red flush that grew on your face.

“SO —!” You laughed, diverting back to the drink at hand. “The drink.”

“Wonderful deflection,” Hawks set the cup down, still smirking. “So, the drink .”

Your fingers tapped at the countertop, living your blush down with a lack of eye contact.

He gets stared at all the time, chill out.

Dude probably likes it, (Y/N).

“The drink is a dirty chai, with some editions, of course.” You jerked your head back to the wall of tea blends, the familiar ebbing away from of your embarrassment. “We have a couple of different chai blends that I make in house. Several different chai concentrates too.”

“Forgive me, but a dirty chai?” Hawks teased.

“Wow, weak jab there, Hawks, ” You rolled your eyes. Hawks just continued to beam at you, swinging his legs behind the counter. “I gave you an oatmilk, ginger chai with three shots of espresso and a few other secret touches. I wanted to make it warm again for you.”

Keigo paused at your admission, (not-so) secretly reveling in your poorly contained embarrassment. Perhaps it was a bit cruel, but his job did carry some wonderful perks and he’d be damned to not enjoy them.

“It feels like a different kind of warm, compared to last time,” Keigo took another taste to confirm. The spiced liquid flooded his palette again, skin pleasantly prickling at the taste.

You hummed, refusing to fully make eye contact with Hawks.

Truthfully, you spent an embarrassing amount of time since the night prior thinking about potential sensations to emulate for Hawks. You were never sure of what type of vibe he would request, but having an arsenal of ideas made you feel more prepared to impress your new clientele.

“I made it feel like dawn,” You replied, nodding to out of the fully-windowed front of the tea shop. The district you were located in was lit up by the golds and pinks of the early morning, stretching and awakening with the new day. “I wanted it to feel like how morning sun feels on your bare skin. All like... tingly, you know? Like... seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time. ”

Keigo immediately noticed your bashfulness after you gave your description. In the same way as last time, the vulnerability of your manifested feelings left you warm and shy for him.

You picked at a loose string on your apron, gaze directed down and away. With his obscured view of your face, he could see the way you softly bit your lip, eyes occasionally raking him up and down and that retreating. Keigo could feel your pounding heart and slow, deep breaths.

...

Keigo was whipped and he hardly knew you. He was so fucked.

You were too fucking cute. It was fucking illegal. It had to be.

Keigo had been with sexy. He’d been with unattainable. He’d been with women and men who looked like they were crafted by gods as tempters and devils. It was all pleasure and Keigo knew it like the back of his hand. He got hedonistic bliss when he wanted it and he did so very, very well.

What Keigo was entirely unfamiliar with was the gooey, fluttery feeling in his chest as you finally looked up at him to smile and nod to the drink, “So, what do you think?”

Keigo’s brain fizzled, rendered into goo. If he didn’t have years of interpersonal training, he was sure he wouldn’t have been able to speak with his own revelations. Luckily, he was able to laugh off his internal stickiness, taking another greedy sip.

“Absolutely flawless, wonderful craftsmanship, (Y/N),” Keigo bowed his head dramatically.

You giggled at Keigo’s drama, missing the way how his cheeks lit up for you.

Hawks dug in his pocket, pulling out a huge wad of bills and started to slide it across the counter, “This is a tip. All for you.”

You stared, horrified at the amount of money Hawks passed to you like it was nothing. Without thinking, you placed your hand on top of his, stopping his motion. Both of you stiffened pleasantly at the sudden, small contact.

“That’s too much, Hawks, no,” You shook your head, but Hawks was a stubborn, insistent bastard.

His wings fluffed up behind him, a feather moving quickly between your hands and pushing your up and away.

“What the fuck.” You half-groaned. Hawks fully passed the money across the counter, hiding his hands and feathers in his lap with a Panish smirk stretched across his face.

“Take it, or I tattle on you, easy trade,” Hawks shrugged, leaning his elbows on the counter and drinking deeply. He pulled away from his beverage with a relaxed-looking smile as you remained fluster.

(Holy fuck, you touched Hawks’s bare hand and it was so NICE—)

You could feel the eyes of your coworkers, staring at the money like some Olympic medal. You were well-aware that there was no way Hawks was taking back his money and you knew your coworkers would be too scared to ask for a cut.

You gulped, taking the cash and tucking it into your apron pocket.

“You don’t need to bribe me to make you nice drinks, Hawks, it’s literally my job,” You told him gently.

Hawks raised an eyebrow, shrugging, “Accept it as a little treat on the side. A gift of my appreciation.”

You couldn’t argue with that, so you relented with a smile, shaking your head.

And the two of your dissolved into easy conversation. Hawks told you about the most recent gigs he had been a part of. A modeling contract for a new skincare company and a sponsorship with a few other local heroes for a sports beverage were the most interesting. You were sure he was just humoring you, unable to tell you the nitty-gritty details of his life. Yet, he seemed happy to speak and listen besides. He chattered away, in the way birds do, sing-song, and free-flowing.

Hawks was hardly a bird of prey, you realized. He was much more of a cockatoo type.

You told him more about the tea shop, about your role and job. As you explained about the basics of different types of tea, you could literally see the far off way Hawks looked at you. It wasn’t of distraction, like spacing out, no. It was a look that hadn’t been directed at you in some time. You silently and quickly studied it and came to the nerve-wracking conclusion that the cute blush on his cheeks and half-lidded eyes and relaxed shoulders was fucking captivation, borderline adoration.

For.

You.

How the fuck were you supposed to deal with that?

(Keigo wasn’t sure either.)

Luckily, neither of you planned on doing anything to stop your mutually budding feelings.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo x reader #takami x reader #hawks x y/n #reader insert #my hero academia #mha reader insert #bnha reader insert #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo #hawks

600 notes · View notes

fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Teen-ish, some references of sexual activity, but nothing explicit.

Trigger Warnings: None

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 10/16 (all chapters)

The last time you were in UA this late, you had given Shouta a faceful of pepper spray.

You shuddered as you swiped your ID and headed inside with Hizashi, still not sure you believed that any of this was real.

Only a matter of hours ago, you had been soaking in his bathtub, enveloped in far, far too many bubbles. You could still smell them against your skin, still feel the telltale ache between your thighs from your earlier activities.

Even as you strode through the corridors, Hizashi’s touches ghosted your body. You could still feel the tickles from where he had gotten down on his knees to fasten your shoes for you, the way he had stroked your hair and lulled you into sleep.

In many respects, you felt guilty. Hosu had burned while you paid for doughnuts. People had been grievously wounded while you cried out in pleasure. You had fallen asleep with your head on Hizashi’s chest while children came face to face with a serial killer.

Rationally speaking, you knew that there was nothing you could have done. You might have worked at UA but that didn’t change the fact that you were a civilian. Even if you had been on the scene, you would only have gotten in the way, but that knowledge did nothing to ease the pangs of guilt.

Several of the other teachers had already gathered in the conference room generally reserved for staff meetings. Several of them, including Shouta, had plainly come straight from patrolling the streets. Others, such as Cementoss, had been disturbed from sleep and still not quite woken up. Nezu sat at the head of the table, resting his head on his hands with a grave expression, while All Might paced the room, no doubt concerned for Midoriya.

You heard Shouta long before you saw him.

“This is bullshit and you know it.”

He was leaning against the wall, arms folded and looking furious, though where exactly that anger was directed you couldn’t be sure.

“Yo, yo, yo!” Hizashi called out as you entered the room. “Did someone call for a party?!”

Everyone turned to look in your direction, several rubbing their temples at the sudden noise. Shouta‘s eyes darted from you to Hizashi, plainly joining the dots.

You took in the stern faces and heavy atmosphere, before clapping your hands together.

“I’m going to make some coffee.”

~~~~

It took around half an hour for the rest of the faculty to arrive, by which time everyone had either taken a seat at the table or positioned themselves somewhere in the room. You sat down a few chairs down from Nezu, between Vlad and Hizashi. Shouta stayed on his feet, visibly agitated.

“I’ve called you all here to discuss the events in Hosu city,” said Nezu at last. “I’m sure you’ve all seen the news by now… but for those of you who haven’t…”

He pressed a button on the desk, switching on the enormous television screen behind him. You winced at the footage of Hosu shining like an inferno.

“Earlier this evening, the Hero Killer Stain was taken into police custody,” he said. “I’m sure you are all aware of his troubling history.”

Just about everyone had heard of the Hero Killer. He was responsible for the deaths of multiple heroes, as well as the critical injuries of many more. For most, he was a boogeyman.

“Recently, the hero killer struck in Hosu city, permanently disabling the hero Ingenium, also known as Iida Tensei,” said Nezu, “or, perhaps more importantly, the older brother of 1-A student Iida Tenya.”

You folded your arms and glanced at Shouta out of the corner of your eye, remembering a conversation you had had a week before.

You hadn’t talked much after he told you everything Hizashi liked, though that in itself wasn’t too far out of the ordinary. Shouta wasn’t a talkative person even when his schedule was forgiving.

He had knocked on your office door a little after lunch and sank down into the chair opposite your desk, arms folded and with a stony expression.

“Iida,” he had said, dropping a file on your desk. “I want you to speak to him.”

Earlier that day he had received a phone call from Iida’s mother, who was distressed to say the least about what had happened to the older of her sons. She had wanted UA to be aware of his situation and forgiving of any strange behaviour over the next few weeks. The worst case scenario would result in time off school.

Tenya would have needed counselling even without the grave circumstances of Tensei’s injuries and you met with him twice after the sports festival, though he had little interest in opening up. He thanked you for your concerns in the respectful manner you had come to expect from him, though shut down any attempt to discuss how he truly felt.

You and Shouta had both been concerned for him, though limited in exactly how far you could intervene. Never had it been more apparent than when he submitted his internship application. Shouta arrived in your office again, suspicious of the reasoning behind Tenya’s agency of choice, though Tenya himself denied any ulterior motives. Neither you nor Shouta had the power to deny him his agency of choice after both sides had agreed and so he had gone to work with Manual, now confirming all of your worst fears.

“Tonight, three of our students faced off against the hero killer, acting independently without the authority of their supervisors,” said Nezu. “Currently, we have only limited information available, but I do know that these students are Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya and Todoroki Shoto.”

As the daughter of a prosecutor, you knew without having to ask that this was a serious situation.

Even before you knew how to read and write, you understood the basics of hero law. Your father had decided all of his children would be lawyers and every family meal swiftly turned into a game of rapid fire questions.

“Could it be,” you said, “you’re going to expel them?”

Nezu sighed, resting his head on his hands.

“The incident is currently under investigation,” he said, “but that is a likely outcome.”

“And I’m telling you, it’s bullshit,” said Shouta. “What’s the point in training heroes if we punish them for acts of heroism?”

“The laws on this matter are quite clear,” said Nezu, “albeit short sighted. If three of our best students are expelled, not only will our reputation suffer greatly but it will quickly feed into the rhetoric of villains. For heroes to be punished for saving lives...well...doesn’t that only add fuel to the argument that modern hero society encourages grandstanding more than it does justice?”

“Is there nothing we can do?” Hizashi piped up. “Character references, that sort of thing?”

“Unfortunately, our hands are tied. At present the case is in the hands of the authorities,” said Nezu, “and heroes in general cannot interfere with the law. We can only hope that they reach a favourable conclusion.”

“We do need a plan of action, though,” said Nemuri. “If the students are formally charged, there’ll be reporters halfway around the block by sunrise.”

“We’re currently lacking critical information,” sighed Nezu. “Any action we take now would be based on pure hypotheticals.”

You chewed your thumbnail and watched the television, watching as the hero killer took several steps towards Midoriya.

“For a case this severe,” you said, “it’ll go all of the way to the top, likely overseen by the Chief of Police...”

“I imagine so.”

“In that case,” you said, “I think it’ll be okay.”

All eyes fell on you and heat rose in your cheeks.

“Uh, a-a-a-a-at least that’s my opinion!”

“No,” said Nezu, “go on.”

“Well,” you said, thinking back to your father’s dinner table quizzes, “I’m not too sure how to put this...hmm...but for a case like this, there’s a burden of proof. It’s not enough that they happened to be there at the time. You need proof that they each broke the law; that they each individually ignored orders and attacked Stain without permission. This would mean verifying wound patterns, collecting eyewitness reports, taking testimonies from all involved...”

You turned to look at the television, a grim expression across your face.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that of all of the footage of this incident, we’ve only ever seen that one looping video of Stain right before he collapsed? Considering everything happening in Hosu at the time, doesn’t it seem just a little bit likely that that is the only footage? Why haven’t they mentioned eyewitnesses?”

“Stain is known for keeping to the shadows,” said Nemuri. “It’d make sense for him to choose a place away from the public eye, with very few security cameras and minimal chances of being disturbed...which in this instance would work in our favour…”

“And if we consider the students’ quirks,” said Shouta, “Midoriya’s quirk is strength based, Iida’s is speed based, Todoroki’s consists of fire and ice…”

“...and we already know the city was burning,” said Hizashi, “there’s footage of Endeavour at the scene…”

“And Gran Torino,” said All Might. “His quirk is speed based. If we take into account Endeavour’s physical strength and fire, as well as Gran Torino’s speed...then all we have to account for is Todoroki’s ice...”

“...and it’d be difficult to prove either way that it was used to attack as opposed to defend. It’s likely at least one of them has injuries from Stain’s blade,” said Vlad.

“In the chaos of the overall incident, only the students and their supervisors can definitively say they ignored instructions,” said Cementoss. “So we just need to rely on Todoroki, Midoriya and Iida to play it smart.”

All eyes fell on Shouta.

He sighed.

“We’re screwed.”

~~~

You stayed on site for a few hours after that, going over contingency plans until Hizashi offered to walk you home. If tonight had taught you nothing else, it was how dangerous the streets could be and so you were only too happy to take him up on it. Not to mention, you wanted to have a frank discussion about how you were going to proceed now that you’d slept together.

“Is it always like this?”

“Hmm? Like what?”

You gazed up at the sky and stifled a yawn, taking note of the sunrise. To say tonight hadn’t gone as planned was an understatement.

“Ever since I came here,” you said. “It feels like there’s been one drama after another.”

“I think,” said Hizashi, booping your nose, “the universe saved it all just for you.”

You laughed at that, for he had no idea just how right he actually was. You had already slept with a coworker by your second day.

“Hey, hey you guys!”

Heels clattered against the tarmac and Nemuri threw her arms around you both. She was as dressed up as you were and you remembered grimly what Hizashi had said to you outside of Les Papilles , which was only a few hours ago, but felt like decades.

You kinda put us in the mood for French food.

Hizashi hadn’t gone to Les Papilles alone and, given he and Nemuri already had plans to hang out that evening, it made sense that they would have gone together.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” said Hizashi with a smirk, “where’ve you been?”

“Asking all of the wrong questions, Mic,” she said, letting go of both of you. “Where haven’t I been?”

She reached up to cup your face and squeeze your cheeks.

“I have something for you,” she said.

“Iv it a glath of wine?”

“No, something way better!”

Nemuri took a step back and rummaged in her bra, leaving you a heady mix of intrigued and nervous. She pulled out a slip of paper and handed it over, eyes bright with excitement. You unfolded it, trying not to think about how warm it was.

It was a receipt from a pricey jewellery store for an equally pricey engagement ring. You reached into your purse, feeling around until your fingers landed on smooth metal. You dragged out the ring and read the receipt, matching up the item to the description.

“This...this is,” you said, eyes wide. “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.”

You couldn’t look away from the price at the bottom; Akira must have chosen the most expensive one in the store. With that sort of money, you could pay your rent several times over and still have enough left to buy several ordinary engagement rings.

“This…I...”

You were more than a little bit overwhelmed. You had known Nemuri and Hizashi only a few months and yet they’d done so much for you.

How would the night have gone without them?

Would you have spent another 45 minutes in the shower like you did the day he dumped you?

Your eyes welled with tears and threw your arms around both of them, murmuring your thanks over and over. Nemuri stroked your back, Hizashi stroked your hair and for a moment all was right in the world, the Hosu incident and Akira’s cruel words at the back of your mind.

Only one thing could have made it better, you considered, heart skipping a beat at the sound of Shouta’s voice only a moment later.

“The hell did you two do?”

You supposed from an outsider’s perspective, it wasn’t immediately obvious that your tears were happy ones and you took a step back, meaning to reassure him that everything was okay. Hizashi got there before you, though, reaching an arm towards him.

“Ahh, Sho,” called out Hizashi, “come on, we’re having a moment. Group hug!”

“No.”

“Come into my arms, Eraser,” purred Nemuri.

“Never gonna happen.”

“Aw c’monnnnnnn.”

“No. I’m leaving.”

He turned to go and you untangled yourself from the hug, still rubbing the tears from your eyes as you picked up your pace and followed him, looping your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his back. He peered over his shoulder, visibly bewildered, though didn’t pull away.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “thank you.”

“What for?”

You considered it, struggling to settle on one singular thing.

You remembered standing in front of your bathroom mirror with a pair of kitchen scissors and drugstore hair dye; remembered the emergency salon trip that swiftly followed. You remembered the expressions of shock as you handed in your resignation at your previous job; the excitement and hope you had felt on your first day at UA.

You remembered Akira’s words outside of Les Papilles .

Who else is going to want you?

You knew he had only said that to hurt you and in another life it would have knocked you for six. Now, though, it was clear to you that he was only repeating the same words you had told yourself every day since your first date.

Shouta was supposed to have been a one night stand and could so easily have been a costly mistake, but had instead been a turning point. He wanted you when it mattered, even if your encounter had only been sex. Until then you hadn’t known how it felt to be desired, didn’t know what it was like to be wanted without putting on some sort of mask. All of your life you had twisted and turned to become the person others needed. Shouta, though, had wanted you when all he knew was your name.

You didn’t know how to thank him for that.

Instead you said something else; something that gave him goosebumps and sent the tension from his body; something that brought crooked smiles to Hizashi and Nemuri’s face when they overheard it.

Something that, though none of you knew it then, Shouta would replay in his mind in the weeks to come.

~~~~~

As you embraced Shouta, everything falling into place, Masayama Akira woke up in cold sweats. His head pounded, his feet were numb and he realised, as he rubbed his temples, that he had no idea where he was.

He stumbled to his feet and glanced at his surroundings: the sky overhead and cold breeze. His heart skipped a beat when he realised he was at the top of a skyscraper with no shoes or jacket.

“What the f-,” he mumbled, hobbling towards the door.

He remembered only vague details of the night before, of getting down on one knee and eating dinner with another woman; a woman he had gotten drunk with and spent the night ranting to over beers.

“She’s nothing,” he remembered saying, holding up his beer for a toast. “I’m better without her.”

“Akira,” the woman had cooed, “you’re so right. You need to rid yourself of her...and I know exactly where to start.”

She stroked a hand to his arm, so gently that it made him shiver.

“Did you, by any chance, keep the receipt for the ring?”

Akira sighed in despair as he reached for the door handle, remembering nothing after that. Perhaps he’d call her once he’d had coffee.

Unfortunately, Akira realised very quickly that he wouldn’t be getting coffee any time soon. The door to the building was sealed shut and wouldn’t give no matter how hard he yanked at it.

He cursed and reached into his pocket for his phone, only to curse louder at the realisation that he was too high up to receive any sort of signal.

This was, perhaps, the worst thing to ever happen to him, overshadowed only by the knowledge that even now, after everything, his instinct was to call you.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #habanero #present mic x reader #hizashi yamada x reader

59 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

Bad Game of Chicken - Xehanort x Fem!Reader Pt 5 Finale

The end of our drama! Hope you enjoyed it. It was fun to write two headstrong-ish characters facing off. Usually I have a shy or generally sweet character to counterbalance the strong personality, but this was fun.

~~~~~

Part 5: Prisoner’s Dilemma

Two criminals are arrested and told they can betray the other for a lesser sentence. If they both stay silent, there’s a one-year sentence each. If one betrays the other, the first goes free while the other gets a three-year sentence. If both talk, they both get a two-year sentence.

~~~~~

I couldn’t sleep last night, not with the bombardment of memories and self-depreciative thoughts raining down on me. Having him at my mercy is a drug I probably couldn’t resist given another opportunity, but at the same time, it’s Xehanort: the very person who got me in this mess and is always trying to tear me down. That was a challenge last night and this is a game—but somewhere along the way, it stopped being a game for me. I fell for my own con. And I’m worse off than when I hated him.

Eyelashes flutter in the blinding light. With a grumble, I roll, waiting for my vision to stop playing games and show me the time on my alarm clock—the broken alarm clock.

I’ve never gotten ready for class faster in my entire life. In hopes of snatching anything for breakfast before class starts, I race into the cafeteria. My timing is terrible as a member of staff is exiting at the same time with a very hot cup of coffee. Apologies spew from my mouth while the drink soaks my arm, scalding as it drips. Food becomes no longer worth my time when the bell rings. I hear the staff member call me back but class has started.

Lungs are set to burst and my heart is painfully sprinting by the time I barge into the classroom. Everyone is there, staring at me like a wild animal entered instead of a classmate.

“You’re late,” Master Odin states sternly. “We were worried that you were sick.”

“I’m sorry, Master,” I reply, bowing deeply. The muscles in my arm spasm from the sting.

“What happened?”

“…I slept in.”

“Yes, but what happened to your arm?”

Coffee stains the fabric of my sleeve, some dried along my hand, masking some of the raw skin. “An accident—I bumped into someone and they spilled coffee on me. It was my fault.”

“Even so, you should go to the infirmary and have them take a look at it.” He gives me no chance to protest. “Go on.”

“Yes Master.”

So I slump my way to the infirmary where they clean and wrap the burn. By the time they’ve finished with me, I’ve missed the first segment of class. A variety of expressions are given as I reenter the class.

Coming to class today was useless other than the attendance. I can’t focus, still plagued by worries and revelations. It doesn’t help that I’m staring at the back of his head during lectures and avoiding his gaze during work. I don’t want to talk to him right now; I know he’s just going to try to pry what happened from me and I don’t want to deal with that right now.

Somehow, I manage to decently play off all the distress; when it finally does come down to interacting with the boy he doesn’t seem to suspect a thing—the game’s still on. Still, I let him know Urd is going to let me join her study group to help me better understand the material I missed. My information is casually accepted and we part ways after class.

Studying goes about as well as one might expect of an internally dysfunctional person. Even just sitting here, it’s almost as if a seething guilt is seeping through me. It’s a competition between two people who despise each other but, here I am, happy and content in a relationship with my arch enemy who could never return those feelings. Oh and the pain that shoots through my heart at the thought that every nice thing he does is all just a strategy to win this stupid thing is unbearable. Gods, it dwarfs the broken bones and concussions I’ve received from keyblade training. I knew better than to agree to this game.

Apparently, my anxiety shows as Urd slams her book shut and announces, “Alright, that’s it. I can’t take it anymore.” Everyone is surprised but I tense when she turns on me. “What happened?”

My response doesn’t come easy. “I-Wh-What? What are you talking about?”

An accusing finger juts out at me. “Last month you and Xehanort were prepared to push each other off a cliff and then suddenly you two are still at each other’s throats but holding hands and going on dates?!”

“Urd,” Hermod hisses. “That’s none of our business.”

“They’re our friends! Look at her—she’s miserable! Of course it’s our business!” She’s got me dumbfounded. “Sure they seemed happy for like three weeks but clearly it’s not working out anymore!”

Bragi interjects, “What did you expect from two people who hated each other? Though I don’t think I’ve ever seen Xehanort as upset as when he brought her back with that black eye.”

I don’t like how they’re talking about us as if I’m not here. Urd turns back on me and I take it back: I wish they’d pretend I wasn’t here. “So? What’s going on?”

“I…” The beating in my ears is deafening and that ache in my chest is running rampant. “I gotta go.”

Hastily sweeping my books into my bag, I leave the trio behind. On my way out, I hear Bragi. “Good going, Urd. They’re probably in the middle of a break up.”

But we were never actually together… The thought taunts me all the way back to my room. This is stupid. They don’t even know what they’re talking about. This is all just a stupid game that I never should’ve agreed to. And why is he so damn good at it?! Gods, how could I let myself screw up like this?! How could I fall for him?!

Locked away in my room, I try to sort out this drama I’ve built up around myself. Hours pass in the emotional agony of reminding myself that this is a game made so one of us could embarrass the other—so he could embarrass me. We’re still adversaries; we’ve always been adversaries. For not a single moment of this last month have we been anything more than players in this bad game of chicken.

An interruption comes just as it’s getting dark out.

The knock is startling, causing me to kick my desk chair. Not another muscle moves in hopes that my mistake wasn’t loud enough.

I was wrong and my boyfriend calls out, “I can hear you in there, doll. Let me in.”

Dammit. “Go away.”

“If you don’t open this door, I’m gonna kick it in.”

“Xehanort—”

“One.” Shit. “Two.” He means it. “Thr—”

I tear the door open before I lose the privilege of having one. By the front of his clothes, he gets pulled inside and the room slams closed again. Facing him becomes a problem; I don’t want to reveal the distress I’ve been wallowing in since I last saw him.

“Alright, spill it,” he orders. “What’s the matter with you?”

An automatic response slips from my mouth. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Then look at me.” I don’t. “Geeze, you’re a pain. Tell me what’s wrong.”

There’s no answer for him—at least not one that I want to give. Rubbing at my eyes, I turn back. “I said nothing. Did you need me for something?” He needs to go ASAP.

Brows knit together but that look of pity burns in my stomach. “Yeah, that doesn’t matter anymore. Why are you crying?”

Fists curl so tightly nails dig into my palms in an attempt to remain in control. “Didn’t you hear me? I said it was nothing. So if you don’t need me for anything, get out,” I order.

Arms fold, signaling his stubborn mode. “Nuh uh. That’s not how this works. Tell me what’s wrong.” Teeth grit together to hold in my tribulations. “C’mere.”

He reaches for me, but I swat his hand aside. “Don’t touch me!”

“Then tell me why you’re upset.”

“No! Leave me alone!” If he keeps pushing, I’m going to break and I’m not prepared for that.

Xehanort does indeed push, but not in the way I expect. Up against the corner, he’s got me pinned, planning to keep me here until I talk.

“Get off me!” Gods, the tears are not helping my case.

“You listen to me—as long as we’re dating, there are no secrets. You got that?” I glare in defiance yet he doesn’t relent. “Do you hear me? Not from you and not from me.”

This game has come to a head—I’m done playing.

“FINE!” I roar. All the force I can muster goes into shoving him off me, nearly toppling the man. “I QUIT!”

That’s clearly not what he was anticipating. “What?”

“I DON’T WANNA PLAY YOUR STUPID GAME ANYMORE!” Oh, I wasn’t even close to prepared for this level of breakdown: the tears are free, I’m going to ruin my voice, and I may collapse if my knees continue to rattle. “DO YOU HEAR ME?! I GIVE UP! YOU WIN!”

In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve yelled at Xehanort, insulted him, ignored him, and even attacked him, but this appears to be a new level for him.

Storming towards him, I jerk him towards the door. “Now GET! OUT!”

Xe prevents himself from being shoved out but doesn’t look back. “Why?”

“I don’t have to justify my reasons to you!” I snap. “I don’t want to play this stupid game anymore! You win; isn’t that enough for you?!”

His response doesn’t come immediately. “No.”

That strikes hesitation in me. Shaking it off, I shove towards the door once again. “Well I don’t care! It’s over! Get out!”

Again, he resists me. “No—not until you tell me why you’re quitting.”

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Play! That’s all the reason I need!” So much for ASAP—my willpower is deteriorating and I’ll probably have my breakdown in full view of the last person I wanted to see.

When he takes my face to force my gaze, his grip is almost painful. Teeth bare as he snarls, “Fine! Then tell me why you don’t want to play!”

For the second time, I shove him off me. “BECAUSE IT’S NOT A GAME TO ME ANYMORE!”

That’s it—I’m done. I’m broken. I may never be able to face him again; I can’t even bare to look at him now. Knees hit the floor and fists futilely attempt to keep the devastation contained. Anger and heartbreak are both equal culprits in my sobbing and I just can’t believe I let myself fall this far.

Before I completely comprehend what’s happening, my hands are pried away from my face. The next second surprises me—those unforgettable lips press against mine, full of a different kind of emotion than last night. I don’t know what to think or how to feel, so I just let it happen.

Leaning back, Xe passes a thumb across my cheek. A soft adoration plays on his face—something unseen before but much needed to mend my self-battered heart.

“Good.” Hatred and sorrow begin melting, creating more tears. “I was starting to think you always kiss like that in games like this—not that it stopped me from wishing I was the only one you kissed like that.” The exhale is shaky with relief. Arms pull me in, fingers trailing through my hair. “Stop crying. I’m not going anywhere, you big crybaby.”

A month ago, I would’ve glared daggers or even spat back my own insult, but now I know it’s just an attempt to lighten the mood.

A breathy laugh escapes me. “I hate you so much.”

“Just wait until I pay you back for this hickey.”

#xehanort #xehanort x reader #young xehanort x reader #young xehanort #young master xehanort #ymx #fem!reader

20 notes · View notes

heyitsani · 4 years

Text

I’m Hopeless Now

Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 3

Word Count: 4491

Rating: Mature-ish

Warnings: Robincest (obviously, even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of terrible parenting, parental death, death by overdose, drug use, foster care

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Jason takes Dick out on their first date and gives the other man a glimpse into a part of his life few know about.

Notes: There is just so much fluff in here. But the next installment has some angst, not like HEAVY angst but it's there. Next up is Duke’s introduction to the ‘verse!

Also, I'm not a Spanish speaker but there are a few Spanish phrases in this story. If there are mistakes, let me know and I'll make the edits. Google and a Cuban friend were my sources. Grammatically, I went off what I know from my Italian knowledge. But I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Translations: mi amigo: my friend Ay amigo encontraste uno bueno: Oh friend, you found a good one tu cita: your date

You can also read this on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dull thud of his head hitting the wall of his closet was the only sound outside of Jason’s muttering under his breath that could be heard in his place currently. He liked silence, it was steadfast, and it allowed him to think clearly. Though in the time he had spent over at Dick’s the past week, he had come to find having soft music or the tv on low volume constantly in the background was nice as well.

It had all been overpowered by Dick’s constant need to talk, but Jason hadn’t minded that either.

Jason knew that because he had been an only child to a pair of parents that absolutely should not have been parents, he never got accustomed to constantly having people coming and going. But the time at Dick’s had showed him he could actually enjoy it. Only a small portion of the time had been just the two of them. If it wasn’t one of his brothers, then Dick’s friends (yes, he had managed to meet a couple more of the infamous harem) had an on-going rotation. Kory and Roy had proven to be Jason’s favorites so far. But from what Dick had said about Donna and Barbara, he was sure they would make that short list as well.

But while he had enjoyed the constant noise of Dick’s, right then he needed the silence he was used to because he was having a crisis: He had absolutely nothing to wear to the date he was taking Dick on in just a few hours.

He had done his research and asked the few friends he had been able to get away from Dick to see what the other man liked, and it had all been a resounding and firm fun. It didn’t matter where or what, just make sure it was fun and lively because the man enjoyed life. He liked to smile, laugh, and soak in the presence of people who were enjoying themselves. Jason’s past dates had all wanted expensive and to be spoiled. Dick was the son of a billionaire and that meant he already knew expensive. And while he wasn’t spoiled, he probably knew that already as well.

With the help of Roy, he had decided on a Cuban restaurant that was one of Jason’s favorites because the music was live and the food was amazing. The staff knew him well and he loved submerging himself in the culture. It was lively and fun and there was no way someone like Dick wouldn’t love it. He was just slightly bummed that he wouldn’t be able to test out Dick’s dancing skills since he was technically still healing from being shot.

And while Jason had clothes he had worn there in the past, this was different. He was taking a date there and not just any date. Dick fucking Grayson. The first guy he had been head over heels for in a long time. The last time he had felt this strongly about someone, she had broken his heart and Jason had sworn off serious relationships. Rose had done her damage. Dick had started to heal it. Without even meaning to, he had started to mend the broken part of his heart that Jason had tried to protect and build walls around. The man was something else.

Glancing over his limited “date worthy” options, Jason gave up and grabbed a deep red sweater that had always been a crowd pleaser in the past and a pair of black slacks. Casual but polished. It would have to do.

He grabbed the pair of shoes he usually wore with the pants he had picked out before leaving his closet and dropping the items on his bed. He had just over two hours to shower, shave, and primp before he was due at Dick’s. He could do this.

He couldn’t do this.

He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking, but standing in front of Dick’s door he was starting to second guess why a man like Dick would ever want to go on a date with a man like Jason. What could he possibly have to offer the older man? And Jason knew that this was stupid, that Dick was a smart man and wouldn’t agree to a date or even openly say he wanted to date Jason if there wasn’t something he liked about the younger man. But the panic was still there.

“There’s a security panel in his living room,” a laughing voice came from behind Jason, causing him to turn quickly to see Dick’s brother, Tim, standing there. “You know he probably knows you’ve been standing here for like five minutes freaking out, right?”

“What? I’m not…” Tim raised an eyebrow and Jason let his shoulders slump. “I’m totally freaking out and I have no idea why. What are you doing here?”

Tim held up a bag that looked like it had containers of food in it. “Alf can’t make it the normal day this week so he made the meals at the manor and asked me to drop them off. I thought you two would already be gone.”

“I’m still early.”

“I don’t care. All I want to know is if you want to come in with me now or wait to actually knock and have him open the door?”

Jason considered his options and shrugged. “Now, I guess.” Tim nodded and slipped his key into the lock, pushing the door open and heading inside. “Not like he doesn’t already know, right?” Tim laughed and headed further into the penthouse.

“Dick?! I found a dude dressed for a good time in front of your door and let him in!” Jason felt his cheeks warm at that comment but just took a deep breath and followed the path Tim took.

“What?” Dick’s muffled voice came from the direction of his bedroom before Jason watched him come out wearing a pair of dangerously low slung dark gray pants and his dark blue button up unbuttoned, exposing a tempting amount of skin. Well tempting if it hadn’t been partially marred by an angry looking healing patch of skin from his injury. “Jay! I’ll be ready in like two minutes!” Jason shrugged as he watched Dick rush over to give Tim a hug before pressing a kiss to Jason’s cheek with a whispered you look amazing and rushing back into his bedroom.

“Maybe he hadn’t noticed,” Tim commented as he opened the freezer and started moving things around to fit the containers of food he had brought. “By the way, Damian ran a background check on you and is impressed at your culinary school accomplishments.” Jason sputtered at that and looked at Tim with wide eyes, but the college student wasn’t paying him any attention.

“How..? Is this a weird Wayne thing that Roy warned me about?”

“Yup.”

“What did Roy warn you about?” Jason turned his head to look at Dick who was now completely done up and moving to the couch to pull on his socks and shoes.

“Weird Wayne things,” Tim called out, head buried in the freezer still.

“Oh yeah. Did Dames do something? Or was it Bruce this time?”

“Demon brat.”

“Don’t call him that. What did Dami do and do I need to talk to him about it?” When Tim didn’t answer, Dick glanced over at Jason to see if he knew.

“Background check. Apparently, my culinary school accomplishments are reason to be proud.” Dick looked like he was considering the actions before shrugging and going back to his shoes. “Have you done a background check on me?”

“Nah,” Dick said, standing and smoothing down his pants before moving over to where Jason was still standing and smiled up at him. “Bruce did it long before I even considered it. All I had to do was mention you one time at Family Dinner and he knew.” Knew? Dick must have seen the question in his eyes because he laughed and pressed a hand over Jason’s heart. The motion did not send a wave of warmth through his chest. Nope. “He knew I wanted to know more about you. That I would want you to know more about me.”

“That predictable?” Jason teased, raising his hand to cover Dick’s.

“Maybe. Or maybe he could tell it was different this time.”

“Jeeze, now I get what Damian was complaining about. You’re disgusting.” Jason looked over to see Tim giving them a look that spoke of bad smells or unpleasant flavors. “Aren’t you guys going on a date?” Dick huffed out a laugh and Jason dropped his hand from Dick’s so the other man could move away and gather whatever else he needed. Which was a wallet from the kitchen island and a cell from the docking station near the couch.

“All right, I’m good to go.” Dick told Jason as he double checked everything. “You’ll lock up and set alarms before you leave, Timmy?”

“I might hang out for a bit, if that’s cool? B has Selina over today and Damian is on high alert.”

“You got it. Guest room is yours if you want it.”

“But…”

Even Jason knew what that but was about and he couldn’t help but shake his head at the implication.

“What kind of harlot do you take me for, Tim? Not on the first date!” He was joking, though. With Dick? He totally would fall into his bed on the first date. If he hadn’t been shot a few weeks ago.

“Uh huh,” came the unimpressed reply. “Have fun you two. Bring back ice cream if you can.”

Dick called out his goodbye and grabbed Jason’s hand, tugging him toward the door before Jason could say much more than a goodbye as well.

“Who is Selina?” Jason asked curiously as they headed for the elevator.

“Bruce’s on-again/off-again girlfriend. They’re obviously on at the moment.” That was all Dick offered as they stepped onto the elevator and he hit the bottom for the lobby. “So, where are we going? Roy hinted that he knew but you have been so hush hush on it.”

“That’s only because it took me a while to figure out where to take someone who has probably experienced every date worthy spot in this city.”

Dick pressed a hand to his own chest and tried to look offended. “Are you calling me a serial dater?”

“Nah, but Wally did suggest that you had made the rounds in your circle of friends…” Jason teased, smirking.

“Hogwash,” Dick waved his hand. “I’ve never dated Kal or Donna.”

“Only those two?”

“Eh, it’s hard to keep track of who I actually dated and who I’ve just ‘had fun’ with.” Jason knew Dick was joking, thanks to Wally actually clearing up the fact that Dick had really only dated and/or slept with a small portion of their friend group and he had been joking. But the idea of Dick being so flippant about something Jason had been so serious about in his own life was a change.

“Your dating history aside, I actually just meant that I know Bruce Wayne likes to spend his money on Gothamite businesses. So, I assumed that included restaurants.”

“That’s absolutely true. But there are plenty of places I have never been.”

“And I found one, according to Roy. One that I frequent actually.” Dick raised a brow in question, the ding of the elevator reaching the lobby filling the small space. Gesturing for Dick to go first, Jason followed him toward the front door where the valet had allowed him to park his motorcycle earlier.

“I assume it’ll be good food then. A man with your talent wouldn’t accept anything less.” Jason simply nodded and thanked the man holding his keys out for him. “Are you going to tell me?” Jason just shook his head and smiled, handing Dick a helmet he had brought along before grabbing his own. Dick simply rolled his eyes and tugged the helmet on.

The ride to the restaurant was short, no more than ten minutes, but Jason was man enough to admit that he wished it were longer just for the fact that Dick would keep his arms wrapped around his waist. But since he couldn’t actually just drive randomly around the city, he settled for grabbing Dick’s hand to hold while they walked up to Havana, the music already easily heard from outside the building.

“Here?” Dick question, flicking the thumb of his free hand toward the double doors of the restaurant Jason had chosen. Jason nodded and watched Dick turn back to take in the choice. The smile that spread across his face was enough for Jason to know he had made the right choice. “I have heard about it but you’re right, I’ve never been.”

“Well, allow me to introduce you to one of the best restaurants in Gotham,” Jason told him as he tugged open one of the doors and let Dick walk in before him. The warmth of the room hit them immediately and Jason took a deep breath, letting the spices fill his senses before he smiled at Sofia, the owners daughter who happened to be the hostess for the night. “Sofia,” he greeted, smiling softly at the teenager.

“Jason, hi!” The girl smiled brightly before looking at Dick and Jason could tell the moment she recognized exactly who he was. “Oh wow.” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle, but Dick had his attention turned elsewhere so he nudged his date.

“Oh, sorry. This place is amazing,” Dick commented, looking toward Jason before turning to look at the girl who was so obviously fangirling.

“This is Sofia, she’s the owner’s daughter,” Jason supplied, and Dick turn his charming smile onto the girl. “We’ll take a table for two, Sof.” The girl nodded, but her eyes remained wide and on Dick. Not that Jason could blame her. Richard Grayson was a beloved celebrity of Gotham. Bruce had his own following, but Dick was considered the sweetheart of the city. He charmed everyone who came into contact with him.

“This way,” the girl said, trying to maintain some sort of professional appeal as she led them to Jason’s favorite spot and set their menus down before they took their seats. “Jorge will be over in a minute. Do you want the usual drink?” Being a regular meant the staff knew Jason’s favorites but they didn’t know Dick’s.

“I’ll wait for Jorge,” he told her, and she nodded with a smile, glancing one last time to Dick who flashed her another bright smile, before she rushed off. “You have a fan.”

Dick snorted and picked up the menu. “I tend to have them everywhere. She was sweet though.” And Jason just couldn’t get over that. How could someone be so used to that sort of attention? “So tell me, Mr. Todd, what is your usual?”

“They make a fantastic daiquiri,” Jason shrugged, unapologetic from the seemingly “feminine” cocktail.

“That we do!” Jason looked over to find the familiar waiter standing by their table, smiling at the two of them. Though, Jason could see the question in his eye when his gaze landed on Dick and moved back to Jason. “Shall I have two whipped up? It’s mango season and we just had a fresh batch delivered.”

“Oh yes, that sound like heaven.” Dick’s reply surprised him, but it probably shouldn’t have. So, he simply nodded his agreement.

“And the usual chips and dip, mi amigo?” Jason nodded and Jorge headed off to the bar to take care of the starters.

“You know, I should be upset you brought me to a place made for dancing when I’m under strict orders to avoid it,” Dick drew his attention. Jason leaned his elbows on the table and smiled at Dick, shrugging a shoulder.

“When you’re given the all clear, I’m more than happy to bring you back just to get you on that dance floor.”

“I’ll be holding you to that,” Dick smiled, leaning onto the table as well. And there was no doubt in Jason’s mind that he would do just that. “So you come here enough that you have regular orders and the waiter calls you his friend.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder. “Jorge calls everyone friend.” Dick raised an eyebrow and Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. “Okay fine, yes. I come here at least once a week. Most of the time I carry out, but a couple times a month I eat in. A lot of them also order from my truck.”

And Jason had really liked that they respected him as a customer enough to try and support him as well. It was a true brotherhood of sorts. And a lot of Gotham had that same vibe. You look after me, so I look after you.

Jason kept his eyes on Dick and observed him taking in everything around them. It was so strange to see someone who wanted to take it all in. In the past, his dates had always been more focused on the moment between them. But this sort of air between them spoke of comfort and not feeling like they had to impress each other. They had already done that. Jason was already gone and he could tell in the small touches and the smiles that Dick was right there with him.

So instead of focusing on Jason, Dick’s eyes scanned the room. Jason watched his head bob to the upbeat music coming from the stage. He saw the longing as sapphire eyes drifted over the couples dancing, pausing at a mother/son pair that caused what looked like pain to spill into his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as Dick moved his eyes over to the bar area where there were rowdy customers enjoying a sporting event while drinking.

“This place is magical,” Dick said, finally turning his eyes back to Jason. The smile on his face was comfortable and relaxed. He looked no different than when they were on the couch eating a meal Jason had prepared. And Jason couldn’t help but feel the same.

The moment was broken by the return of Jorge with their drinks and the chips. He gave a warning to Dick about the spice levels of the salsas he had put down but Dick simply waved a hand at that and went right for the hottest. And since Jason had already made his spicy chili for the man and had watched him not bat an eyelash, he just watched Jorge’s eyes widen as Dick showed no signs of trauma as he went in for another.

“Ay amigo encontraste uno bueno,” Jorge clapped Jason on the shoulder with a bright laugh and Dick smirked. Jorge probably had no idea Dick could understand. “Do you know what you’d like?”

Jason looked over at Dick and raised an eyebrow to see if he knew what he would like. Dick held up a finger and opened the menu quickly to scan it as he chewed before swallowing. “Oh, you do have it! Rabo encendido, por favor,” Dick said, accent perfectly on point and Jason tried not to take too much pleasure out of Jorge’s surprise.

“Si, best there is amigo.” Jorge looked over at Jason who simply nodded as he grabbed Dick’s menu and handed both his and Dick’s over to Jorge. “Alejandra is in the back, I’ll let her know you’re here. She’ll want to meet tu cita.” Dick’s laughter as Jorge walked away was worth the flush he could feel on his face at the teasing.

“Hey,” Dick pulled his attention away from him watching Jorge head to the kitchen. He found Dick with his drink raised for a cheers and a cheeky smile on his face. “To us? It only took us forever to get to this point, but I’m glad we’re here.”

Jason grabbed his glass and clinked it with Dick’s, his smile going soft and that warm feeling in his chest returning. “Yeah, to you not dying and me not thinking you just ditched me.” Dick snorted into his cup and Jason wanted to pinch himself because how could that action be just as endearing as the moment they had earlier with Dick’s hand pressed over his heart and his own hand covering Dick’s? He was a goner. There was no hope for him in that moment. None at all.

The ease the date started with continued on through the meals and Jason found himself enjoying a more lively side of Dick as he fed off the environment of the room. The cheerful banter he exchanged with the owner of the restaurant and Jorge left Jason even more glad he had decided on a place that meant something to him personally. Yes, there were other restaurants in the city that he was considered a regular at, but not like this. Not since Alejandra had known the woman who had raised him. How he had stayed at the Rivera house after she had died. But Dick didn’t know any of that. He didn’t know how much this place meant to him and the impact it had on his career choice because Jason had never told him. Instead he watched Dick form his own opinion on the people he cared about and let him charm them without any influence.

“You know,” Dick’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, drawing ocean blue eyes to sapphire. “You haven’t told me how you came to be a regular here.” His eyes were bright, cheeks splashed with red from the alcohol consumption, and his smile loose. A smile always so freely given.

“I’ve known Alejandra since I was young. She helped me when I had no one else.” He watched Dick tilt his head to the side, prompting him to continue. Taking a deep breath, Jason let it out slowly and steeled himself for sharing this. “She was my mother’s friend, the only one that I know of outside of her drug addicted friends.” Swirling the melted frozen drink in his glass, he let his eyes slip just past Dick’s shoulder. “When my dad just stopped coming home, I spent a lot of time with Alejandra because my mother wasn’t exactly a good parent. And when Catherine died of an OD, Alejandra took me in.”

The hand that appeared over the one still swirling his drink around caught Jason off guard and he looked back to Dick. “You don’t have to do this here. I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” And it struck him again, with those words, that he really had no idea how he had managed to score a guy like Dick. His date who just wanted to know more about the past that Jason kept under lock and key.

“I want to tell you.” Which was absolutely the truth. Jason wanted to let Dick into every corner of his life, let him fill in the empty spaces of his heart. “But maybe not here.” He watched Dick nod in understanding and Jason felt his shoulders relax a little. He hadn’t even noticed that he had tensed up, but obviously Dick had.

“Let’s square up here and then head back toward my place. There’s a gelato place a block away that Timmy likes the best, we can take a walk. Looks like a nice night.”

Jason sighed and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” With a glance over his shoulder, Jason coughed Jorge’s attention and the man gave a nod before getting to work on closing their tab. Jason pushed to his feet and looked at Dick who’s brow had furrowed in an adorably confused expression. “They have my card on file. And Jorge knows to add 25% each time.”

“I was thinking we could split the bill, though…” Jason laughed at that idea. The glare Dick sent him was just as cute as the confusion and Jason just held out his hand to help Dick out of his own chair. “Fine, but I get to pay for the gelato.”

“Sure thing, Handsome. Sure thing.”

Dick gracefully got to his feet and brushed off phantom crumbs while keeping hold of Jason’s hand. Jason watched him in amusement before letting the older man lead him toward the exit.

“Bye Jay! Bye Dick,” Sofia called out from her post near the door. Jason paused to kiss the girl’s cheek and Dick gave her his blinding smile and a wave before the pair slipped back out into the cooling Gotham night air.

The pair were silent as they made their way back to Jason’s motorcycle and then back to Dick’s apartment building. It wasn’t until they were close to the gelato shop that Dick paused and turned to face Jason.

“Before we’re back in a crowd of people or with Timmy, I just wanted to say thank you. Not just for the amazing night, but for letting me into that piece of your life. I don’t ask about your past because I can tell it’s private. And if you want to tell me one day, then I’ll be happy to listen,” he spoke softly and Jason just remained silent, letting him say his piece. “But don’t think you ever have to tell me anything you don’t want to talk about. There are things that will take me a while to talk about and I know you’ll respect that. I just want to make sure you know that I’ll do the same.”

Waiting a moment to be sure that Dick was done, Jason took a step closer and placed the hand not still being held by Dick’s onto the older man’s cheek. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you, but I’m really fucking glad I did it.” He cut Dick’s responding laugh off with his mouth, pressing their lips together in a way not too dissimilar to the kiss they had shared in the hospital not too long ago.

The feeling of Dick’s hand slipping around his hip to clench at his sweater on back told him that he had made the right move. The press of their bodies together coupled with the hum of approval from Dick was all the encouragement Jason needed to slip his hand from Dick’s cheek to his hair to angle the other man’s head just so.

When Jason finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Dick chasing his lips. “Let’s get that ice cream and head back to give your brother some.”

“If you’re interested, we can put in a movie?” It was the first time Dick had sounded a bit hesitant with him since they had decided to give a relationship a try and it made Jason’s heart clench a little.

“That sounds perfect.” Dick’s responding smile had Jason leaning forward for one more kiss before they walked the rest of the way to the gelato shop.

#jason todd #dick grayson #jaydick #food truck owner jason todd #officer grayson #au: keep on truckin'#no capes #red hood #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #batman #damian wayne #robin #alfred pennyworth #BatFam

16 notes · View notes

pocketmosaic · 3 years

Text

Who am I and why this blog?

What a good question, I am so glad you asked. I am a 45 year old, mother of three, who has fibromyalgia, cfs/me and arthritis. I guess I should also say that I am single as that is usually one of the first questions people ask when you meet them.

My children are aged 26 (yes, I know I was young when I had him), 20 and 18. My eldest lives in the Midlands (UK) which is where his Dad and his family are, I don’t see him very often but I have been fortunate (in some ways) to have been able to spend 2 months with him this year. I say fortunate in some ways because the reason he stayed with me for so long was because he was having a bit of a crisis and needed to get away. Thankfully while he was here he helped me almost, if not more than I helped him.

The younger two live with me in East Anglia (UK), their father (who is a different man to my eldest’s dad) lives 10 minutes away. My 20 year old is my main carer, he also helps with the 18 year old who has autism and social anxiety. My 20 year old has been my rock through the years and I don’t believe that I would be sat here today if it hadn’t been for him and his support (and yes I do make sure that he knows that he is a very amazing person, even if he doesn’t always believe it). Sadly he lost his job in the hospitality industry during the COVID-19 epidemic, as did so many others. He didn’t work full-time but I do think that it was important for him to have that outlet, where he could make friends and do things that were not related to helping me and his sister. We are trying to do thinhgs to help him rejoin the working world when the shielding is over.

As I mentioned my daughter has autism and severe social anxiety. Around Oct 2017 she had total meltdown and refused to go to school, leave the house or even go near a door that was open to the outside. She was in mainstream school before that, she is very clever and quite talented when it comes to anime drawings. Sadly we did have quite a few problems with bullying, which the school did try and help with, even getting the police involved when the situation called for it. Unfortunately, despite my asking for help several times, everything going on in the outside world just became too much for her and she put on the brakes. We have had a little bit of help and after a lot of hard work on our part we managed to get her to leave the house. She would go down to the local shop and the chip shop next door (about a 5 minute round trip), and we managed to get a volunteer to come and take her to a cat sanctuary once a week. Two weeks after she had started doing this the cattery shut its doors to all non-necessary staff and then we went into lockdown mark 1. Since then she has taken several steps backwards (although she does still do the shop trip if she has to). I have been trying to encourage her to come out of her room and she refused to speak to me for 8 weeks, she wouldn’t even look at me. We are now talking but she doesn’t come and search me out as she did before. I am sure we will be okay and once the pandemic has some solution then we will work again at getting her out there.

I started by telling you about the children because it does tie in with what I am about to say in a few. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and CFS/ME about 15 years ago, gosh that was a long road to get the diagnosis. It took about 4 more years to get my arthritis diagnosis because whenever I mentioned the pains they automatically put it down to the fibro/ME no matter how hard I tried to convince them that this pain was different. Thankfully someone eventually listened and that meant that I could learn to do things that could help. I do have other problems which impact my life slightly less than these, but we could be here a while if I went to deep into that and I am sure you don’t want that lol.

Long story short, I put on a lot of weight (about 6 stone or 84 pounds or 38.1kg), I was struggling to stay awake long enough to cook a meal and so I would just grab easy convenient snacks which we all know are not great substitutes but if I hadn’t done that then I probably wouldn’t have eaten anything. I also wasn’t moving around anywhere near as much as I used to do, I had always been doing something before and although my diet wasn’t great I was burning up a lot of those calories so while I have never been skinny I wasn’t a big girl,

Up to the present(ish), I have battled with depression and anxiety for a long time, some of it because of how I looked a lot of it because of what I couldn’t do. I forgot to focus on what I could do, what I did have. A few weeks ago I went for a short walk by the quay (all my walks are short because it hurts so much and after a short time I struggle to pick up my feet). I was watching the water, which I find very peaceful, and I saw a branch floating by on the current. I was taken by an major urge to jump in and float off with it, which I am sure you will be glad to hear I managed to resist. I thought about just getting into my car and driving until everything and everyone I knew were far behind me. I felt like they would be better without me in their lives.

Somehow I managed to get back home and I tried to figure out how I had got to this point in my life. I know I was missing my eldest, I was pleased I had managed to help him out but it had left a big hole when he went back home. While he was with me we managed to sort out my house and threw away most of the clutter, which was great I felt like things were starting to move the right way. So why had I spent weeks crying night and day? I was awful to be around, even the woman who comes in to help me with the things I struggle to do wasn’t able to help with how I was feeling.

I knew I was lonely, although I have two children living at home they spend the majority of the time in their rooms, my daughter was ignoring me (even looking at the wall when she came to a room I was in so she didn’t have to look at me). Every time I watched the television I would hear stories on how the lockdown had brought families together and how they were doing more as a family. I couldn’t relate to that at all. There was also so much talk about how people were keeping in touch over zoom or the like, I hadn’t even had one talk like that. I don’t have a lot of friends, I am not good at keeping in touch and after you have had to cancel last minute so many times people stop asking you to do things.

I hated the way I looked but I had no clue on how to change it, every time I have tried to do any exercise I have suffered for days afterwards, even having a conversation with someone would leave me drained. I had managed to lose 3 stone before the first lockdown but, after struggling to get deliveries and when I did it seemed that the things they couldn’t provide were all the healthy options I tried to get, I put back on 2 stone. My face was starting to show the ravages of time, the worst being the hooded eyes I now have. I have always liked my eyes so it is sad they are not as noticeable as they used to be.

I think I might be coming up to the menopause, my period was over two weeks late at that point (it took another week before it said hello). Any of you women out there will know that when your period is late it causes your hormones to go out of whack. Looking back I know that had something to do with how I was feeling.

I remembered something my Dad had told me, “If you can do something about it then do so, if you can’t then all the worrying in the world won’t do anything”. I decided that I had to try and do something to fix the problem areas I saw in my life. I couldn’t do much about my hormones, expecially as it is the first time in over a year that it has taken so long which means the doctor wouldn’t do anything. That meant I just had to let that one sort itself out.

I knew that if I listened to some Toby Keith or Kellie Pickler I always felt better (well Kellie does have two songs which make me cry because they cut so close to home but in a strange way even that makes me feel less alone), so I decided I was going to start listening to them, amongst others, more and if I could I would dance to them, that would at least get me started with moving. It helped because I did lose 6 pounds in the two weeks leading up to this second lockdown.

Facing another month of lockdown I wanted to do something that would help me and also stop me from worrying about the fact that I couldn’t go for a cuppa with my carer and her partner on a tuesday morning. So I decided to set myself a challenge. I want to leave lock down looking better than I did when I entered it. This meant looking for exercises that I could realisticaly do, I can’t see squats ever being a big part of any exercise routine I ever do. I found some arm exercises that could be done sitting down, then I learnt about the wall push or standing push-up, I tried it and found that I could manage that so I added that one in. I also looked at loads of videos for slimming down the stomach, the one exercise they all included was the plank. Now I didn’t think I would be able to manage that, especially getting down and back up again, but I am pretty stubborn so I figured that I would try it. The first time I thought I was going to die by the fifth second but I managed it and I am now going to try and do it as often as I can, after all no-one is about to see the crazy ways I have to use to pick myself up afterwards.

I also decided that I needed to lay down some house rules. I drew up contracts for the two children who live with me (by drew up I mean I found some templates online and adapted them to suit). Part of the contract stipulates that they need to spend some time with me while they are both home full-time. That has stopped me from feeling so isolated even though they are here. I have been making plans on what I want to do when the world returns to some sort of normality. My life has basically been on hold for the past 15 years, I don’t even know how that happened, but it did and I am determined that I am going to put myself out there when I can (I might change my mind later, but at least for now it is giving me something positive to look forward to).

I had always said that when my youngest reached 18 (which happened during the first lockdown) I was going to start travelling. This is definitely something I plan to keep to when travel plans can be a little more stable. I used to be an active member of the theatre when I was in the Midlands but I didn’t even know we had one here until last lock down. I want to look into joining them and doing some theatre stuff, that was the job I always wanted a far cry from what I ended up doing which was mechanical engineering. I have a couple more things in the “to-do” bank but they are just the ones I am going to mention for now.

I don’t want to get back to that place where I want to disappear, to keep me on track I started this blog. I want a record of where I started and how I am progressing, and it kinda gives me some sort of accountability. It also makes me write something every day which is going to help me with another dream. That, however, is a story for another time.

Take care and believe in yourself, you CAN do it, whatever IT may be.

#who am i #fibromyalgia #chronic fatigue #cfs/me #arthritis #mum #autism #single #exercise #diet #beauty #depression #better life #covid-19 #toby keith #kellie pickler

6 notes · View notes

soveryanon · 4 years

Text

Four months late and with a coffee, ~*MAG160’s review*~ (and the last season 4 proof that I can’t do anything without a deadline.)

- This time, the tiny detail making me love the show even more was: the location (“If nothing else, I’m hoping there’d be some… jurisdiction complications in Scotland, or something?”). We know from MAG050 that Jonah Magnus used to be based in Edinburgh, or was at least operating from there in the 1840s (“Certain uncharitable quarters would have it that your life consists of little but rattling around an Edinburgh townhouse, surrounded by piles of ghostly accounts and lunatic documentation.”); Gertrude had created and hidden the ritual tying her to Agnes in “the middle of a forest, in the Scottish highlands. Furthest place I could find, from anything, and anyone.” (MAG145); the first episode of the series had happened in Old Fishmarket Close in Edinburgh (MAG001). How fitting, then, that the end of the world would be unleashed in Scotland, close to Jonah’s roots, close to the ritual that had been one of Gertrude’s first actions against the Fears, close to the place where the Anglerfish had been taking victims in the first statement Jon ever recorded?

(+ Obligatory “Hm! An Englishman returning from Scotland with a fear of bagpipes and sheep. I’m sure we can all relate…!” (MAG125) snickering reminder. Cross your fingers that the sheep do not get Flesh’d around you, Jon.)

- Obligatory “Oh, Martin, No” because Jon is rubbing off on him (ha) when it comes to saying things that end up biting him in the butt way later:

(MAG079) TIM: Alright, fine. Fine. What do you want? What’s your light at the end of these spooky damn tunnels – and don’t say “everyone happy forever”, because that’s not happening. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t know. I don’t know!! I want to find out what’s going on; I want to save Jon; I want everyone to be fine, and you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn’t actually be the end of the world!

It was a succession of “Everything Is Fine(-ish)”, Martin was happy for at least one week…

(MAG160) MARTIN: Everything alright? ARCHIVIST: Just… making sure it works…! […] MARTIN: Are we… … Are we safe here? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Safe as anywhere else. […] But I think we’re okay. […] MARTIN: You’ll be okay here? ARCHIVIST: I’ll be fine. […] MARTIN: I assume it’s her attempt at a… a–a “varied diet”? Eating your greens, you know? ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] Probably! I’m sure it will work fine.

… so, of course, the world just had to end.

- Fluff first: it took me a long, embarrassing while to understand what was happening in the first scene! I can’t guarantee it but it actually sounds to me like Martin was unloading a load of wood, and had been taking care of it (finding it, moving it, maybe even chopping it outside?!), hence why he perfunctorily asked what Jon had been doing inside (and made clear that he hadn’t gone to the village yet, since he was heading to it at the end of the sequence)?

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [LOAD OF WOOD BEING SET DOWN] MARTIN: Everything alright? […] [BITS OF WOOD BEING PILED UP, ONE BY ONE] MARTIN: You’re unpacked, then? ARCHIVIST: Mm? Oh, yes. [INHALE] Much as I can without any wardrobes to speak of, at least. MARTIN: Yeah, it’s… it’s not exactly the Ritz! […] ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] … Not much in the way of food, is there? MARTIN: Hm? ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] MARTIN: Oh! N–no, not yet. I was actually gonna head down into the village to go pick something up. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Maybe give Basira a call to check in, ‘cause: Daisy apparently couldn’t pick a safehouse with a signal, so…! […] [ZIPPER PULLED] You’ll be okay here?

I’m not saying that, given how Jon was a bit distracted at the beginning of the episode and minimising how much time he had needed to unpack, and how there was glass shattering towards of the episode so most likely a window breaking, there is every likelihood that Jon had just been spending a lot of time eyeing Martin chopping wood through that window at the beginning of the episode, but. You know.

- Overall, I love how the cosiness and domesticity was so quickly installed amongst Other Serious Stuff, mysteries and the bigger plot: we’re being told/shown that Jon is taking precautions, wants to not use his powers, that Martin is the one heading out to go to the village (and the one leaving again in the second scene – Jon might be avoiding coming into contact with outsiders at all, in case they have “stories” or to avoid Knowing about them?), that Jon was planning to go back to only reading(/listening to) statements, after having taken Peter’s the episode before. So, still trying to not hurt more people, and also planning to rely on the tape recorder like he had done in MAG141-143 (if it clicks on on its own, then something is close), which is why and how we heard the first exchange:

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [LOAD OF WOOD BEING SET DOWN] MARTIN: Everything alright? ARCHIVIST: Just… making sure it works…! [SHUFFLING SOUNDS] MARTIN: I still don’t think we should have brought it. ARCHIVIST: Oh, it’s better than no warning at all. MARTIN: Mm. ARCHIVIST: Especially if I’m trying not to, uh… “see” things, you know? MARTIN: I guess. […] I was actually gonna head down into the village to go pick something up. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Maybe give Basira a call to check in, ‘cause: Daisy apparently couldn’t pick a safehouse with a signal, so…! […] You’ll be okay here? ARCHIVIST: I’ll be fine. […] ARCHIVIST: How was she? MARTIN: Oh, same as last week. ARCHIVIST: Institute still crawling with police? […] MARTIN: Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground? Oh, ah! Actually, that reminds me. Hum… [RUSTLING OF PAPERS] ARCHIVIST: Ah! These, these are the… statements. MARTIN: Uh, yes. Basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the Archives weren’t a crime scene. ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: And she wasn’t sure which ones you’d read already, so she–she just said she’d send a bunch. [CLATTERING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: There’s… tapes in here, as well. D… did she say anything about tapes? MARTIN: She… didn’t mention it? But… I–I didn’t check it until after the call. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: I assume it’s her attempt at a… a–a “varied diet”? Eating your greens, you know?

… Implicitly, that first exchange probably wouldn’t have been recorded if Jon hadn’t been checking that the tape recorder was working, which makes us go back to the usual questions of “what are they?”, “why are they only recording some scenes and not others?”, particularly in regards to the tapes that Martin brought back in the second scene.

I also appreciate how their exchanges were still grounded in… material concerns. How everything was installed for the listener to not think for a second that the apocalypse was coming close, given Martin and Jon’s preoccupations? They were still focusing on preventing Jon from harming other people, on food, on the identified people&monsters threatening them (Julia&Trevor, the Not!Them, potentially Daisy, Elias being on the loose again) and on legal matters regarding their involvement in MAG158’s attack (“If nothing else, I’m hoping there’d be some… jurisdiction complications in Scotland, or something?” / “… Does she know who they’re looking to blame?” “They’re not really talking to her about it? Sectioned or not, I guess ex-police only gets you so far.”). I think that this last point was the most impacting for me: food and other characters/threats will still be a concern during the apocalypse… but “legal jurisdictions”, Section 31 and the investigation in the Institute’s attack probably won’t be, and that would be the sign that “society as they know it” is crumbling? That the rules have profoundly changed?

- On that note, YEAH, “TERROR ATTACK” was indeed the way to put it:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Besides, I’m more worried about the other Hunters. Or the… “Sasha”-thing. Last I heard, they still hadn’t found any bodies. [INHALE] A lot of destruction, a lot of blood… [EXHALE] But that’s it. [MORE WOOD SOUNDS] MARTIN: … You think they’re still out there. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: Hopefully a long way out there. […] Institute still crawling with police? MARTIN: I mean, they’ve finished all the interviews? Apparently, they’re calling it a “terror attack”. ARCHIVIST: Doesn’t surprise me. [CHUCKLE] Appropriate, in a way…! MARTIN: Mm. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: … Does she know who they’re looking to blame? MARTIN: They’re not really talking to her about it? Sectioned or not, I guess ex-police only gets you so far. ARCHIVIST: Mm. [SIGH] Does she know if they’ve found the old prison yet? The… Panopticon, Elia– … Magnus’s body. MARTIN: I don’t know how hard they’re looking, to be honest? Basira says a few of them got lost in the tunnels for over a day, and… ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] MARTIN: … it’s not like the promise of an old man’s corpse is much of a motivator. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground?

* Was this implying that there weren’t any deaths amongst the regular staff? I know that it’s a bit of a moot point given the whole apocalypse-thingy, now, but still, glad for it because… I… really… don’t like… bystanders getting hurt as peripheral casualty when protagonists were the target… in fiction… (Though the staff have been hurt even if they survived, and now everyone is hurting given the circumstances, but, still. I really, really don’t like random deaths when their main point is to give angst to main characters.)

* Trevor&Julia and the Not!Them still on the loose. Given how the Not!Them operates, it’s possible that one of the Hunters hasn’t actually made it, and that we will meet Not!Trevor or Not!Julia in season 5? I’m guessing that they will come back in some shape or form (or Not) next season.

* I love how Section 31 was SO DONE with the Institute – Basira had established that the whole building meant an automatic Section 41 (MAG043) and we saw how Elias was handling police matters with blackmail and the likes (MAG082, MAG092, MAG120, MAG158). I’m surprised that Basira apparently explained Magnus’s deal, since they were searching for the body and the Panopticon? I thought they would avoid explaining it, since Section 31 would be the most likely to go for the kill if they ever found his body? And although Elias wasn’t sure about the consequences, he had still highlighted that killing him would still cause a risk for regular staff and Basira.

* I also love how the default way of destroying the Institute is always “set it on fire”:

(MAG060) ARCHIVIST: [Rosa Meyer] unloaded the van’s normal cargo of filing paper and envelopes, before filling it with several barrels of petrol. She was apprehended just south of Vauxhall Bridge, after she jumped a red light and collided with another car. Luckily the petrol did not ignite, and she was picked up by police as she tried to flee the scene. […] The one detail that still nags at me is that the company the Danilo Kostitch worked for, Paper Unlimited, is the same company that, at the time, supplied most of the stationery to the Magnus Institute. I have a nasty feeling about exactly where she was taking that petrol.

(MAG079) ELIAS: What did you want from him? LEITNER: The files. The ones you took from Gertrude. ELIAS: Planning a little light arson, are we Jurgen? LEITNER: It’s not just the Institute and you know it.

(MAG118) MARTIN: Case… 0071304. Statement of… Ivo Lensik. [BREATHES] [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] All right. [BURNING SOUNDS] [EXHALES DEEPLY] Statement ends, I guess. [PAPER RUSTLING] Hm… Harold Silvana! Number 0020406. Will probably do. [PAPER RUSTLING] [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] Alright then. 0140207, Dylan Anderson. [PAPER RUSTLING] Yeah? Okay~ [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] [EXHALES] There’s plenty more on the pile~ [AGGRESSIVE KNOCKING AND DOORKNOB JOSTLING] ELIAS: [MUFFLED AND DISTANT] Martin! Martin, open the door. MARTIN: Sorry Elias…! I can’t hear you. There’s a door in the way. […] ELIAS: Tell me what you’re doing, and why. MARTIN: I just thought I’d, y’know, drop a couple of ideas in the old suggestion box! Turns out my suggestion is… fire! [LIGHTER ON] ELIAS: And yet you haven’t set the whole Archives alight. So I assume this is… what’s it called… A cry for attention.

(MAG158) ELIAS: What exactly were you hoping to achieve here? Why not come at me directly instead of burning everything first? GERTRUDE: I was rather hoping the fire would occupy you while I did just that. ELIAS: I see…! […] So you burn the place down, use it as cover to reach my body, and then we die together. [CHUCKLE] How… poetic. Doesn’t seem like your style at all. GERTRUDE: I wasn’t actually planning on dying.

(Re: MAG060, I’d already been wondering, before the Jonah Magnus reveal, whether James Wright had somehow been involved in Rosa Meyer’s accident (thus preventing her from reaching the Institute) and/or had sent evidence to the police to incriminate her for the murder, ensuring she wouldn’t get another chance. I… guess that’s what really happened, uh ;;)

… A bit yIPS for the fact that Elias used to get harsh very fast as soon as the Archives were threatened with fire… and in MAG160, it’s now Basira who dissuaded police to burn the place down.

- On my first listen, I got a Big Worry over Basira because:

* “James Wright” had been Head of the Institute from 1973 to 1996, so during 23 years; “Elias Bouchard” had been the new one since 1996, so it’s been… 22 years, almost the same length. If Jonah is body-hopping regularly, we would be close to his next one.

* The weird Elias-Basira bits all through season 4.

* The fact that we haven’t heard Basira since MAG158, when Daisy told her to “go”: we… don’t really know what happened to her afterwards, we didn’t hear how she had interacted with Jon&Martin.

* The fact that Basira hadn’t mentioned the tapes and that Jonah’s statement was amongst the ones she sent to Jon:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Ah! These, these are the… statements. MARTIN: Uh, yes. Basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the Archives weren’t a crime scene. ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: And she wasn’t sure which ones you’d read already, so she–she just said she’d send a bunch. [CLATTERING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: There’s… tapes in here, as well. D… did she say anything about tapes? MARTIN: She… didn’t mention it? But… I–I didn’t check it until after the call.

… So: I panicked a bit about the idea that Jonah could have hopped into Basira before Jon and Martin left The Lonely, or when they had left for Scotland already?

BUT, on the other hand, it wouldn’t really fit thematically: she is still a character, I feel, we don’t “know” a lot; she spent the entirety of season 4 getting manipulated by Elias and ultimately losing Daisy again; she has a new arc opened (her promise to Daisy that she would find and kill her, in MAG158). It would be a bit too harsh to do Basira dirty like this right now, so I doubt that it’s something that happened (losing both Daisy&Basira like this, while Jon&Martin&Elias are still relevant, would be a bit too obviously imbalanced genders-wise too). But. Still. I got a Big Worry.

- Though: given Daisy’s last words in MAG158, I was assuming we were saying goodbye to her as “Daisy”, but now I’m not even sure? Because, yes, TMA characters often sarcastically joke about things that are upsetting and sad, but it didn’t feel like they were talking about someone they had lost forever as a person here?

(MAG160) MARTIN: Yeah, it’s… it’s not exactly the Ritz! ARCHIVIST: Well, it technically still belongs to Daisy, so… I’m just glad it’s not… some sort of… kill room. MARTIN: Or… [CHUCKLE] Or it is, and she just cleaned it up really well! [CHUCKLE] ARCHIVIST: Uh…! Yes… [CLEARS THROAT] [SILENCE] […] MARTIN: Some-somehow, I don’t think Daisy will be worried about “jurisdictions”…! ARCHIVIST: I– [SIGH] I don’t think she’d come here. [RATTLING SOUND] Doesn’t look like this place has been used for years. MARTIN: [POINTEDLY] And if she does? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … Well. At least, we’ll know where she is.

… I mean, yeah, there was Jon’s blatant discomfort, but: this is not how you would talk about someone who had resisted for months against a Fear that had influenced almost all her life, who tried to get Jon out of his misery pit after he had rescued her from the Coffin, who tried to repair a bridge with Martin, who was firm in front of Jon about the fact that obeying to a Fear’s influence wasn’t worth it, to ultimately succumb to The Hunt again after she had stayed in order to give Jon time to run after Martin who was in danger and possibly to protect Basira?

I really really felt that we were absolutely saying goodbye to her in MAG158, but with Jon&Martin’s exchange in this episode, I’m not quite sure anymore – it would be a bit too heartless and disrespectful if it was the case, to summarise Daisy once again as a violent monster, while she had fought it for months? But: Daisy had already lost herself to The Hunt during The Unknowing, and had been rescued from that state once, plus Basira promised to find and kill her (which sounds like a Last Promise, something you can’t go back on); I doubt they could “get her back” another time, even if the whole paradigm has changed?

I really don’t know ;; If we are indeed saying goodbye to Daisy-as-Daisy, I kind of hope that there will be more sensitive words about her in season 5, because it really didn’t feel like she was absolutely gone, given the way Jon and Martin were talking about her – this was a conversation that could have been had about Daisy in season 3, not after season 4 and all the work she did…? I don’t really feel like it was a “meaningful death” on its own either: it didn’t feel to me like it was a sacrifice she was ultimately choosing to make, but The Hunt taking over her anyway because of the violence and the stress around. It works extremely well as a very sad death – Daisy caught back by her patron after some time, because she couldn’t escape it forever (as she had said), and what mattered was that she allowed us to discover the Real Her during season 4 – but I’m still hoping a bit that she could go out a bit more on her terms, if this isn’t her final disappearance as a sentient being able to choose whether or not to cause harm…?)

- So: unsure about Daisy’s current status; worried over Basira (but overall narrative tends to indicate that she hasn’t been taken over); while Martin…

(MAG158) PETER: But you do serve The Lonely. MARTIN: Oh, I’m getting there, but if this is the final test or something? Then bad luck. The answer’s still “no”.

(MAG159) MARTIN: [DISTANT, VOICE ECHOING] This is where I should be. It feels right. ARCHIVIST: Martin, don’t say that. MARTIN: [DISTANT, VOICE ECHOING] Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.

(MAG160) MARTIN: … Well, as fun as listening to you monologue is… ARCHIVIST: Hm. MARTIN: … I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk. ARCHIVIST: Let me know if you see any good cows…! MARTIN: Now, obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows…! ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF] [FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING]

1°) … Somehow, I find it hard to believe that Martin, of all people, wouldn’t want to listen to Jon monologue. But aouch, the fact that he went for self-isolation so spontaneously gives me the impression that The Lonely might have impacted him quite deeply, and that it might come back to relevance in season 5…

2°) Daisy was barely mentioned in this episode and yet, once again, I’M SO SAD ABOUT DAISY, because it feels like everything was a reminder of her ;_; Who used to stay around when Jon was reading statements?

(MAG133) DAISY: You sure? ARCHIVIST: No, uh, it’s, hum. It’s fine. DAISY: It’s just… Basira’s busy. ARCHIVIST: I–I understand. Ho–honestly, er, I’d actually appreciate your insights, er, for this one, just… You know, keep quiet during the statement and that. DAISY: Sure. I, I can do quiet.

(MAG136) MELANIE: Well… uhm. Daisy’s been, erm… I’ve been keeping her company. Er, while… while Basira’s busy. She’s, er… ARCHIVIST: Oh, no, I, uh… I–I know. MELANIE: W–well, I’ve kind of got to… uhm. I’ve got somewhere to be. Do you mind if, if… she hangs around, with… ARCHIVIST: Er… I suppose… Not at all. She’s very welcome. […] DAISY: I didn’t ask her. To do that. ARCHIVIST: I–it–it’s fine. DAISY: [QUICKLY] You’re not babysitting me, alright?! I know that’s what the others think, sometimes, but… that’s not it. I just… don’t like… being on my own if I can help it. You know. Flashbacks, panic attacks, the usual. Just trying to avoid it if I can. ARCHIVIST: I know, Daisy, I–I do. It’s hard. DAISY: Yeah, well. Don’t let me get in your way.

(… And if she had been there, she would have found a way to stop Jon from reading, even if that meant harming him, uh…?)

- Obligatory “GOOD COWS” point:

(MAG160) MARTIN: Cool. … Well, as fun as listening to you monologue is… ARCHIVIST: Hm. MARTIN: … I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk. ARCHIVIST: Let me know if you see any good cows…! MARTIN: Now, obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows…! ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF]

We know that Martin hadn’t travelled much in his life:

(MAG113) MARTIN: So… how was it? ARCHIVIST: Uh? MARTIN: A–America? And–and China? I’ve, I’ve never really actually… done any, y’know, travelling. MELANIE: It’s not all that. Sometimes you get shot by a ghost. ARCHIVIST: And refuse to give a statement about it. MELANIE: Yup! ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It was… nice, Martin.

So… Eloping to Scotland with Jon might have been his first time seeing actual cows? I love how it already sounded like an inside-joke between Jon&Martin – you feel like there are small stories behind it, that either Martin, Jon or both of them have already cooed about “good cows” in the time they have spent there. Same cute point with:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Anyway, don’t tell me the phone box down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic…! MARTIN: … It… might. ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF] MARTIN: Maybe.

It’s adorable that it’s both a nod to Martin’s taste indeed (… and technically Alex’s!):

(MAG039) TIM: Why do you have a second tape recorder, Martin? MARTIN: Oh, um… well, I’ve been using it to record myself. I write poetry and I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm. ARCHIVIST: … I see.

(S1Q&A, 17’20) ALEX: So, when Jonny originally pitched The Magnus Archives to me, there was a period of testing, where we actually ran a few episodes that will never see the light of day…! And what we were doing is seeing what sounded right. And, part of that was to do with the sound of it – so we did versions of The Archives, uh, without the tape deck, just to test? I didn’t like it. I think that it’s got a sort of low-fi charm. JONNY: [CHUCKLE]

And Jon had remembered!

… So, confirmation that Martin likes and is into old things. … There is a definitive pattern there, because Jon absolutely does fit into the “retro” and “low-fi charm” aesthetic himself, and I’m not sure if Jon was aware that it was a self-burn (or if, like in MAG039 and his “only an idiot would stay in this job”, that was the joke).

- And on the other hand: Jon is Living The Archers Life in the countryside. I still want to Believe that the show became a guilty pleasure for him.

… ;_; I’m randomly sad for Daisy, because it feels right that one of her safehouses would be located in a remote area, without signal, a bit distant from the village nearby…? Was she even able to listen to the radio there? Did she listen to Archers episodes alone there?

(Well. “Alone”. Martin&Jon learned about the safehouse somehow, and I can’t tell which idea I preferred more: that Basira tipped them about it (and it was something she had shared with Daisy, and she told them despite that little secret of theirs), or that Daisy had tipped Jon before MAG158, in case something bad were to happen, because the two of them had this weird little friendship-thing going on…)

- I’m still going to use “Elias” for Jonah out of habit, and I like how different characters now in the known also have their own ways of referring to him? Peter used “Elias” out of habit too:

(MAG158) PETER: What are you doing here, Elias? […] Don’t let him distract you. ELIAS: Peter. PETER: Elias.

(MAG159) PETER: But it’s moored now, and I came on land, at Elias’s request. My crew is out there waiting for a call I think I am now unlikely ever to give them. … I will call him “Elias”, for that’s how I’ve known him for most of our… acquaintance, though I originally met him when he was still “James Wright, Head of the Magnus Institute”.

Martin quickly learned to reconfigure his knowledge and use “Jonah”:

(MAG158) MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.

… Meanwhile: Jon is still stuck on “Elias”, though he’s been shown correcting himself:

(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: Uh– yes. And I’d wager that Elias’s body, uh… BASIRA: Gotta be Jonah Magnus, right? ARCHIVIST: I’d say so.

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Safe as anywhere else. If Elias wanted to find us, I imagine he could, but… I doubt the police will be able to. […] Does she know if they’ve found the old prison yet? The… Panopticon, Elia– … Magnus’s body.

It was a very strange season in the fact that Jon and Elias only interacted directly once, and very quickly (MAG158): in past seasons, we were hearing them regularly (even in season 1, when they directly interacted only twice), and it was implied that they were discussing more often than what the tapes were recording. But in season 4, no additional interaction than MAG158’s is possible given that Elias was in jail and Jon was forbidden from visiting him… though there was a form of communication through different means – Jon read Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter to Jonah because it had “called” to him (and Elias “called” Jon towards the Panopticon; was he the one responsible for that one?), and Jonah’s letter in MAG160.

How long will it take before Jon and Elias come face to face again in season 5? And will Jon still call him “Elias” then, or “Jonah”?

- I had been wondering for so long how Jon was supposed to fit in Beholding’s ritual, as one of its agents! Would Jon keep embracing his powers to the point that pulling in The Eye into the world would seem acceptable for him? (That was my main worry when Oliver gave his statement and told him he had to make a choice: were we supposed to trust Jon when he was telling Basira and the others that his “priorities haven’t changed”, or was she right to be cautious around him? In the end, it was a mix of both given that Jon wasn’t trustworthy (he hid to everyone that he had been taking statements behind their backs) but he still wasn’t keen on bringing the apocalypse, which was cemented later in season 4 when the others made sure that he wouldn’t hurt other people.) Would Elias manage to convince Jon that Beholding was a lesser evil, possibly to “protect” the world against Extinction? (Absolutely not.) Was Elias simply waiting for the right time to blackmail Jon into it doing it, by threatening to hurt Georgie, the assistants or specifically Martin? (No, but my blood ran cold when Jonah mentioned Martin in this statement, since… Martin was outside… alone… and out of reach…, and for a few seconds, I really thought he had been kidnapped and/or hurt and that this would be it.) Given how Elias had a “complicated” relationship to the apocalypse and didn’t seem to be doing much, did he really want Beholding’s ritual, or was he passively sabotaging it…? “The Watcher’s Crown” had been a concern and a frustration from the moment it was first mentioned:

(MAG111) GERRY: She worked out they’d all be happening quite close together. She’d already been doing it a while, and The Unknowing was the next on her list. That and The Watcher’s Crown. ARCHIVIST: The, the what? GERRY: Uh, The Rite of the Watcher’s Crown. It’s what she called the ritual for the Eye. She didn’t tell me much about that one, just that she knew how to take care of it. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH]

(MAG123) BASIRA: Best I can understand it, Beholding, or… The Eye, or whatever you wanna call it, we’re one of the only powers that hasn’t actually taken a shot at our ritual. Yet. And everything out there knows it. ARCHIVIST: … No, I mean, we… we can’t be the only ones, surely? BASIRA: I don’t know. Probably not. But we made a big noise with The Unknowing and… other stuff, and… now they’ve taken notice.

(MAG126) PETER: [LAUGH] Because, behind all his bluster, Elias’s just like all the rest. He’s so preoccupied playing the game, he doesn’t pay attention to the big picture. He managed to convince himself that he could get his ritual off first, which would have made all of this a… bit moot, but that’s not really an option anymore. So it’s down to us. You and me. The dynamic duo.

(MAG135) BASIRA: [DRY SIGH] What was the point? You won’t be getting your ritual off from in here so, what do you need him for?

(MAG137) ARCHIVIST: Ever since I crawled out of that damn coffin, I feel like I’ve been… adrift. Filling in blanks and diving into History, but only…! [EXASPERATED SIGH] The breadcrumbs I’m finding are… stale. Old. … What the hell is The Watcher’s Crown? So far the only mention of it I’ve had is from Gerry, and he didn’t seem to know much about what it actually meant. [PAUSE] And he’s gone now. But if it is the grand ritual of Beholding, then I– … I mean… I need to know about it. Right…? I feel like I’m on a deadline, like I’m running out of time somehow – and I don’t even know where to go! What to look for, o–or… [EXHALE] Just casting around blindly for more clues to just… drop into my lap. Everyone else is… running towards something, or running away, and I… [SIGH] I don’t know what I’m doing.

(MAG138) ELIAS: For all his… many faults, Peter is legitimately trying to stop the end of the world as we know it. MARTIN: So why haven’t you helped him?! ELIAS: My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated. MARTIN: [UTTER DISBELIEF] Oh, seriously? ELIAS: Seriously.

And in the end, I’m so satisfied by what was revealed, since it entirely checked out.

* Indeed: before season 4, it had seemed logical to assume that the Institute had been founded in 1818 and that the Beholding faction had been accumulating power ever since, preparing for The Watcher’s Crown, given how The Dark had apparently waited for 300 years before trying again, and The Stranger 230 years. However, in Smirke’s letter to Jonah (MAG138), we learned that Jonah was finalising a Beholding project, which resulted in Smirke’s death. So that was the time of The Watcher’s Crown attempt!

* Elias “My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated.” Magnus had already tried his ritual once, and knew now that the others’ were all doomed to fail – unless going for his ritual of them all. That was why. F u c k e r.

* Annabelle had already taunted and/or warned Jon about the fact that reading a statement was a weak point, since he had reached a point where it was impossible for him to stop once he had begun:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “… I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading, there’s every likelihood you’ll… just hurt yourself. So just listen. Now – shall we turn the page and try again?” [PAINED SOUND] [PAGE GETTING TURNED] ARCHIVIST: [STRAINED] … Statement of… Jonah Magnus… regarding… Jonathan Sims… the Archivist. … Statement begins. […] “Now. [CHUCKLE] Repeat after me.”

(MAG147, Annabelle Cane) “Of course, that’s not the real crux of the free will question that’s… bothering you at the moment, is it? I think that one probably comes down to whether or not you’re choosing to continue reading this statement out loud. You didn’t mean to, did you? No, I’m sure you told Basira and Melanie that you were going to glance over it and report back. Perhaps they asked you if you were going to record, and you shook your head – “Maybe later”. That sounds like the sort of thing you’d say.

But think about it, Jon: when’s the last time you were able to read a statement quietly to yourself without instinctively hitting record and speaking it aloud? It is just instinct? Habit? Or is it a compulsion – a string pulled by the Ceaseless Watcher or the Mother of Puppets? Or both? I know the summaries have started to confuse you. Where did they come from, when you read a statement fresh? How do you just… sort of know what it’s about, before you even start to read it…? But by then, you’re away: the rollercoaster is dropping and you’ve no real choice but to hold on and hope that… I don’t crash you.”

(What had struck me with Annabelle’s is that, although it was true that Jon had not been interrupted during a statement past season 2, the concept of Jon not being able to glance at a statement without making an official record was fairly recent: he had provided some follow-ups during season 4, having previously done some work using details mentioned in the statements.)

… It might be that Annabelle showed off the trick of Jon being forced to keep reading a statement even though the content was unpleasant precisely to give Elias the idea? Elias knew how to get his completed “Archive”, but I doubt that hijacking Jon through a statement in order to get him to summon the Fears was something he had planned for long, and not something he had devised recently, copying Annabelle.

* + Bonus from Martin, who had absolutely jinxed it / been too On The Nose about it, since he had put out there the idea of an incantation to bring about the end of the world, though crackily:

(MAG144) MARTIN: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] I believe you. PETER: You don’t still think I’m trying to trick you into a grand ritual? MARTIN: I mean, I’m not about to start chanting stuff for you, but… but the details you’ve given me all seem to check out. So far.

The end of the world happened thanks to someone chanting stuff for someone else, in the end!

- Same feeling with how the episode was framed: we did have clues that ~something was coming~, we knew since MAG121 that we were now in 2018 and that it was conveniently the Institute’s anniversary, Jon himself acknowledged this early in the season…

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Hm. “Jonah Magnus”… I’ve never really given much thought to him. Not nearly as much as I should have. I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent, in all this. I know, I know; but I had… [SIGH] I had just… hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest…! And not simply the foundation stone for all the… terrible things that have happened here. … But no. Whatever is happening now… has its origins two hundred years ago. In the work of an evil man. … [INHALE] Exactly two hundred years, in fact. Don’t think that little detail has evaded me. I don’t know the precise date the Institute was founded, but I do know that it was in 1818. [INHALE] Something’s coming. I know it is. But I just… don’t know what I need to do.

But WOW did Everything highlight Elias’s sense of drama.

* 2018 was indeed relevant, but worse, Asshole Boss Man picked October 18th as the Apocalypse Day, making the statement case a palindrome (#0181810). Knowing this posturing fucker, there is every likelihood that this was the anniversary of the exact date the Institute was founded or something.

* He probably bribed Simon or used Ex Altiora’s Spiral thing just to be able to get the storm rumbling ominously in the background on that day.

* Once again, HE USED TO BE BASED IN EDINBURGH (and confirmed in this letter that the building of the Magnus Institute was constructed or moved into only after his failed Watcher’s Crown attempt, so around the time of Smirke’s death in 1867). He struck when Jon&Martin had precisely taken refuge in Scotland, so the country of his roots.

* I’ll go all-out about the content of his letter, but the sense of self-posturing and dramatisation was through the roof, he probably spent most of the prison vacation thinking about it and about how Jon would probably react to craft the most obnoxious letter ever. Fucker.

* The PUNS. He punned SO MUCH. It’s nothing new (“Don’t forget to keep in touch, Martin. There are so many people in here, but without one’s friends… it does get rather lonely.”, just for one), but he was absolutely insufferable in this one:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Admittedly, given the advent of The Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered – but what’s the old saying about hindsight? […] Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. […] How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you?”

(+ “It does tickle me, that in this world of… would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the “Chosen One” is… simply that: someone I chose!” Someone remembered The Tingly, uh.)

* About the Posturing: Elias definitely confirmed to be a Bones Connoisseur, dude, please, you were two centuries late for the Baroque movement.

(MAG092) ELIAS: And it was not out of malice, or because [Jonah Magnus] lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look.

(MAG127, Jonathan Fanshawe) “… Do I need to tell you what I found, Jonah? Do I need to detail what covered his organs? His bones? The inside of his skin? What clustered together in their dozens, and all turned as one to focus on me as I opened his chest? Their pupils constricting in the light, with irises of every hue and colour. Because whatever it was that did this to him, I know in my heart… that it is your fault.”

(MAG131) JARED: The letters started comin’ in about two years ago. Good white paper, large print. Nice and simple. Dunno who sent them; they were never signed, and I dunno how they kept finding me. […] I don’t blame people for thinking that all bones are the same, most people don’t have much experience – but it’s not true. There are good bones, and there are bad bones, and Regan Hasnain had some very good bones in her. They were solid, healthy, and they jumped at my touch. I didn’t doubt the letters again.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Do you know of Alexander Cunningham? He’s been working with the Viceroy of India on the Indus Valley digs, and he’s discovered some quite remarkable things. Burial pits full of burned bones and ash, skulls with markings as though the eyes were removed, and others that seem… buried alive.”

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “[…] though I waited until the worms were in you to pull the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.”

… Assuming that Jon didn’t leave with it, I’m unfortunately picturing Jonah getting his hands on Jon’s rib just to add it to the secret stash in his office.

- I really loved Jonah’s “little trip down memory lane”, because… it was answering interrogations or suspicions (regarding his past actions), still managed to surprise me in small little things that I hadn’t suspected and hadn’t been hinted but worked perfectly (shoving Helen into a car?!), and was still extremely functional (terrorising Jon and readying him for the final incantation, by reactivating all his old fears and pains). The first part of it was almost a “gift”, in a way, since it… answered and “hooked” us/Jon, but wasn’t really necessary when it came to messing Jon up; but it was, after all, a statement, so it’s only logical that it would begin with some gloating and posturing. Gods, the posturing. Anyway, a… lot of things suddenly rearranged themselves, so I’m just going to follow his words for that one without trying to organise it thematically:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: [CLEARS THROAT] Statement of Hazel Rutter, regarding a fire in her childhood home. Original statement given August 9th, 1992…! Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins. [PAUSE, PUNCTUATED BY THE CRACKLING OF THE FIRE] “Hello, Jon. [STATIC RISES] Apologies for the deception, but I rather wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. I’m assuming you’re alone – you always did prefer to read your statements in… private. … I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading, there’s every likelihood you’ll… just hurt yourself. So just listen. Now – shall we turn the page and try again?” [PAINED SOUND] [PAGE GETTING TURNED] ARCHIVIST: [STRAINED] … Statement of… Jonah Magnus… regarding… Jonathan Sims… the Archivist. … Statement begins.

* The sneakiness was extraordinary because, given the first words, you were meant to be already trying to guess what this statement would be about – we tend to associate “fire” with Desolation, and the very present and physical crackling of the fire in the background… was adding a very ominous touch to this.

* I must admit that before Jon confirmed that it was Jonah’s statement, I didn’t know whether it was him or Annabelle? There was something very carnivorous and cruel in the tone Jon used, which reminded me of her rather than Elias. (And, overall: I felt “Jonah” a bit more than in Ben-as-Elias’s words! It’s probably because of the huge amount of posturing, and the… slowness? of Jon’s reading, rather than Elias’s usual chirpy bitey comments.)

I have to appreciate, also, how this season began, continued and ended… with people saying hello to Jon and/or calling him “Jon” when he was physically unable to answer.

(Season 4 trailer) MARTIN: Hi Jon. [PAUSE] H–how are you? [LIGHT CHUCKLE] … Yeah. Yeah, same here. It’s… it’s bad all over, you know?

(MAG121) OLIVER: Hum… Hello, Jon. Do you… m–mind if I call you Jon? I… I mean. You don’t actually know me, it’s just… well. “Archivist”, it’s so… formal, isn’t it? And I do kind of know you…? Haven’t had much choice, really.

(MAG147, Annabelle Cane) “‘Free will’ is a funny old thing – isn’t it, Jon? Can I call you Jon? I’m going to call you Jon.”

Elias had been spending a loooot of time watching Jon, indeed.

* The struggle in Jon’s throat noises was heart-breaking, we could hear that he was clearly trying to resist… to no avail, and Elia’s little taunt was just the nail on the coffin…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality, and power […]; to place yourself beyond pain, and death, and fear. It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all…! I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers, all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction, in that choice. I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die. I believe there are far more people in this world who’d take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.”

* We had learned through Robert Smirke’s letter that Jonah was afraid of dying (MAG138: “I beg you, do not pursue this goal; if only a single lesson may be gleaned from my life of long study, and longer hardship, it is that the fear of Death is natural, and to flee from it will only bring greater misery. Repent of your sins, Jonah. Seek forgiveness. I am certain the Dread Powers cannot take a soul that keeps faith in the Resurrection.”), that absolutely confirms it. Things have changed indeed, and the separations we used to rely on will probably be less relevant, but… still, it’s interesting that this season began with an agent of The End visiting Jon (sent by The Web). Oliver had precisely highlighted that you can’t really escape death (MAG121: “That was it with the old woman too. That was different, though. Way I figure it? She stuck her nose in just about everywhere it wasn’t wanted and stirred up hornets. ‘Till all the precautions in the world couldn’t stop Death from finally catching her.”), I’m curious about whether or not it will be relevant for Jonah too.

* Adding to this: Jon had explained that he had woken up because he was afraid of dying (MAG136: “My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die.”), and it was a lingering theme in this season: is it worth it to not die if it relies on harming others? We’ve had various examples of people accepting this deal in their own ways (Helen who chose to “stop feeling guilty” about it, Tova McHugh who justified to herself that she deserved to live more than others…), and others who actively refused it (Daisy who pointed out that it wasn’t worth it, Melanie who had decided to stop any complacency with Beholding even if it would cause her own death, before she found a way out). The beginning of the episode established that Jon was still trying to not use his powers, and the prologue confirmed it once more: after the harm he caused and kept hidden during the first half of season 4, he’s still following the conscious choice to not hurt others at the present. I had felt that MAG138 was implicitly contrasting Jonah and Jon (agreeing to let his friends get consumed for his own gain / wanting to protect the assistants and refusing to lose anyone else); given how Elias was absolutely deadpan about the fact he had embraced the Fears for his own gain, the contrast is definitely cemented.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott and the rest – to discuss and hypothesise on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner… I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear. But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was still so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of their patrons: I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world. At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be… an inevitable transformation, was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment… soon became a race. Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror? I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked. It – took – years for the dread of the prisoners that passed through to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man by the time I made my first attempt at The Watcher’s Crown, sat in the centre of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet. It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were; and none of the inmates survived, as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was build consumed it. But it left me a gift: for sat in that watchtower, I could see… everything I turned my mind to. It was a dizzying power; and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. [DISTANT RUMBLE OF THUNDER] Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organisation I had founded to assist in my research down to London. And the Institute, as you know it, was born. I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own. Surely, my interpretation of The Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.”

* ! I had felt like season 4 was… really giving the idea that an “old” generation of avatars or people involved with the Powers had been wiped out? The Lightless Flame was almost entirely eradicated by Gertrude, a few recent failed rituals damaged some factions (The Stranger, The Dark, The Flesh), a lot of recurring figures were revealed dead (such as Adelard) or are “officially” dead (Mikaele Salesa…?), Peter was recently eradicated, etc. Simon Fairchild, Jonah and Trevor Herbert (if he has survived) seem to be the oldest; the only ones left seem to be Jared Hopworth (since 1996), Jude Perry (since 1991), Daisy (in whichever state she currently is…), Oliver Banks (“died” and came back after 2015), Annabelle Cane (turned in 2010), Helen-the-Distortion (took over in 2017), Julia Montauk (embraced The Hunt in summer 2010), Jon (Beholding, gradually groomed into avatarhood from late 2015 to early 2018), potentially Martin (Beholding-touched Lonely, late 2017 and 2018). That’s not many, compared to the old guard. But it did fit with both the idea that the apocalypse would be brought around now, and that Jonah had lived it as a “race” against others?

* We don’t know what happened to George Gilbert Scott as an avatar of The Buried in the Magnusverse? He was described in MAG050, but I wonder if he’s still around, given how Elias took great care of finishing off Rayner by sending the police after him. (Technically, we don’t know how Mordechai Lukas ended either… but the Lukases are still prosperous and financing the Institute, so the family and Elias are still in good terms.)

* It’s an implicit correction to Jon’s conclusions that the Institute had never been founded “in earnest” and that Jonah Magnus had always been “an evil man” after reading Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter from 1831 (MAG127): Jonah really taking it to heart to point out that his opinions had changed a bit over the matter of the Fears, uh? Although it was a quick decision: if we’re following our History, Robert Smirke began working on Millbank around 1816. If Jonah was the one who pushed him in that direction for his own plans, it means that he was already planning to bring in Beholding when Albrech had sent him his letter (MAG023) about The Eye’s tomb in the Black Forest. Was it the case, or is the Magnus timeline diverging a bit from our own history (maybe Smirke began working on Millbank later in the Magnusverse), or did Jonah rewrite history a bit there, retrospectively telling himself that he had convinced Smirke to work on Millbank for his own gains? Jonah, at least, let Barnabas Bennett die in 1824, and the way Elias presented it, it had still been a sad choice albeit one made without any hesitation (MAG092: “And it was not out of malice, or because he lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. […] No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all.”); according to Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter from 1831, he had grown a bit more ruthless towards Albrecht von Closen by then.

* … How old was Jonah when he pushed Smirke to work on Millbank? “I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind” would mean old age… but he was still alive in 1867 (Robert Smirke’s letter). He couldn’t have been more than 40 in 1816, and that’s already stretching a lot! So either Real Life’s and Magnus’s Histories diverge as mentioned above, either he was really a Victorian asshole getting worried over his first wrinkles and white hair, gooooods, Jonah, please…

* It… does explain the “Opperior” in the Institute’s logo, if he wanted for more than half his life that Millbank would be contaminated by the fears…………

* I love how he casually explained that The Watcher’s Crown had already happened, when we were panicking about it, and yet! We should have suspected! Since Smirke’s letter mentioned that Jonah was likely working on a Beholding project:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “It is telling that of those I have brought into my confidence, it is only you and I who have continued this far without falling to one Power or another, despite all my instruction and work. This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank. […] I am not a fool; I know well enough what this dream is likely to mean, and I warn you again that if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work, to try and wear The Watcher’s Crown, you must abandon them! Not simply for the sake of your own soul, but for that of the world! I have always had the utmost respect for you as a man of dignity, and learning. Do not allow yourself to fall to this madness. […] I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man. I further find myself supposing that they may emanate from your own intrigues and preparations to culminate those plans which we agreed to abandon so many decades ago! […] The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon. It is likely too late for me, but I will not…”

Letter interrupted because He Dead. I’m a bit surprised that Jonah didn’t take credit for his death, so it might have been Beholding just growing more powerful at the time and touching Smirke without even Jonah doing anything purposefully?

* And again!!! It made sense re: the current building of the Institute. We knew that the Institute had been founded in 1818, but Sampson Kempthorne’s letter (MAG050) had mentioned that Jonah was “rattling around an Edinburgh townhouse, surrounded by piles of ghostly accounts and lunatic documentation” in 1841. Breekon, while describing an event that had happened around 1853 (his time serving on the Robert Small), had mentioned that it had been “the first time we saw what would become this place, The Eye’s Pedestal” (MAG128), implying that it wasn’t yet The Eye’s pedestal at the time. That’s because Jonah only moved the Institute to London after his failed Watcher’s Crown attempt, past 1867! And all to protect the Panopticon and his actual body inside of it!

* Just the mention in passing that a huge amount of people died during his attempt, but it’s not really surprising from Elias-Jonah. Though, he was a bit more handson than Peter had credited him for, in the end?

* It’s interesting how the failed rituals impacted avatars differently. Peter almost lost himself; Tom Haan certainly did (as pointed out by Gertrude); Rayner was severely diminished; Simon just kept going after each one (only one attempt amongst many, in the big universe?). Jonah… got a power boost out of it. If the Fears work on a Whatever Feels Right basis, is it because he was so self-centred that he couldn’t even imagine not getting personal gain out of it or something?

* It still makes so much sense that his own way to “not die” was to take hosts: he knew Rayner, and that’s what Rayner was doing, so it worked because he had an example of it working for someone else; it had to work this way for himself, too!

* Really interesting too, that… The Eye was not mentioned in the first part of his statement. We know that The Watcher’s Crown was The Eye’s ritual, but it’s really telling that Jonah didn’t explicitly introduce it as his god: in his mind, he was clearly doing it for himself, for his own interests, for his own survival and gain, and not at all out of devotion or fascination or unwilling service to a patron (though there are clear indications that… he was actually much more Beholding than he was aware).

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus. You see, the role of Archivist has been part of The Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers: most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain… throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings. But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about collecting experiences or compiling the fears of others – she was driven to stop those who served the Powers. More than once, I thought she must secretly be of The Hunt, [RUMBLE OF THUNDER] but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times. I once asked her… what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me The Desolation had killed her cat…! I don’t know if she was joking and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.”

* So ;; Kinda leaning into the idea that Johann von Württemberg and the creature under Alexandria were indeed Archivists of their times? (And I’m D: all over again about Jonah confirming that he had researched on Beholding, because of what happened to Albrecht von Closen between 1816 and 1831 because of him and the books…)

* Gotta love how he didn’t mention any other Archivist before SHE happened. Gertrude Robinson was That Special, uh. (Well, he had acknowledged that “I suppose we both got a little complacent. Fifty years is a long time!” in MAG158)

* I love how I can absolutely not tell either whether she was messing with him or if it was the truth. She could very well have dedicated a huge amount of her life to fucking over The Lightless Flame in particular because they had murdered her cat, it would have been entirely understandable.

* I love that JONAH was TOO SCARED of Gertrude Robinson to peer into her mind ever. Also:

(MAG159) PETER: Gertrude was the one that scared me. She seemed to have no interest in meeting me whatsoever, something… I appreciated, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at me, as though she was making a calculation and I was an unwanted integer she was deciding whether to remove.

Lonely Eyes, united in their shared fear of the scary old woman.

* That was one of the first moments I remembered that Jon was listening to this with us – and how upsetting it must have been to be reminded of “the Archivist” being a function, when he had been so afraid to have inherited a “mantle” like Michael and others in season 3…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years. In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded? Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinson throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed? She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with… the People’s Church. When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realised she was putting into practice a theory – and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain, as mine had all those years ago. Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated; but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realised what needed to be done. You see… the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the panic of hunted prey? When does the mask of The Stranger become the deception of The Spiral? Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as “up” relies on “down”. To try and create a world with only The Buried… makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only “down”. Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself… impossible. They could bring their patron close, but could not sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back to the place next to reality where they dwell.”

* I Did Not Share That Opinion because… honestly, the rituals seemed quite easy to derail? The only thing that surprised me is that Gertrude took care of them on her own, only thanks to a few (sometimes unwilling) allies: Adelard, Gerry, Michael and Jan Kilbride. Even with past taxonomies, there might have been dozens of different cults worshipping different things (Jonah did acknowledge that Beholding&Archivist was an old constant); we got a glimpse of old conflicts in MAG053 (Those Who Sing The Night fighting against the site of an Archive) and MAG117 (The Stranger’s last ritual attempt getting interrupted by what Gertrude interpreted as Slaughter avatars). It sounded logical to me that a lot of these rituals had failed in the past because others had opposed it: they weren’t planning their ritual in a vacuum, but with a dozen of cults opposing yours.

* BUT THE EXPLANATION WAS A “OH SHIT” MOMENT BECAUSE!!! It… made sense, and we had glimpses and hints and we should have guessed that it was the case!!

(MAG080) ARCHIVIST: So the creatures are, what, priests? These books their holy texts? LEITNER: I told you it was an unhelpful analogy. Let’s try another one. Um… Imagine, you are an ant, and you have never before seen a human. Then one day, into your colony, a huge fingernail is thrust, scraping and digging. You flee to another entrance, only to be confronted by a staring eye gazing at you. You climb to the top, trying to find escape and, above you, can see the vast dark shadow of a boot falling upon you. Would that ant be able to construct these things into the form of a single human being? Or would it believe itself to be under attack by three different, equally terrible, but very distinct assailants? ARCHIVIST: So the books, the monsters, they’re part of these beings? Just extensions of them? Fingers being pushed into our world?

(MAG111) GERRY: And when our fears change, so do these things. But it’s not quick. Gertrude reckons they’ve basically been the same since the Industrial Revolution. She and my mum both liked to follow Smirke’s list of fourteen. ARCHIVIST: [DISBELIEVINGLY] Th– I mean, there are a lot more than fourteen things to be afraid of in the world. Where do you draw the line? GERRY: Hmmm. I always think it helps to imagine them like colours. The edges bleed together, and you can talk about little differences: “oh, that’s indigo, that’s more lilac”, but they’re both purple. I mean, I guess there are technically infinite colours, but you group them together into a few big ones. A lot of it’s kind of arbitrary. […] And like colours, some of these powers, they feed into or balance each other. Some really clash, and you just can’t put them together. I mean, you could see them all as just one thing, I guess, but it would be pretty much meaningless, y’know, like… like trying to describe a… shirt by talking about the concept of colour. O–Of course, with these things it’s not a simple spectrum, y’know, it’s more like– ARCHIVIST: An infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once. GERRY: Now you’re getting it. ARCHIVIST: Like colours, but if colours hated me.

(MAG137, Wallis Turner) “The crew, hungry for death in their stolen uniforms, at first cried out in joy with each new murder; then, they cried out with expectation; and at last, with what sounded like concern, casting their eyes up into the empty sky as though waiting for something. As fewer and fewer of us remained, I could feel something like panic begin to spread through them. […] The crew… did not… stop me. They simply watched me with expressions of despair, and the deepest disappointment I’ve ever seen.” […] GERTRUDE: Still the anti-climax is fascinating: I can only assume they were supposed to be… bombed at the height of the ritual. Maybe by Japanese aircraft, maybe Allied, maybe… both. I wondered what stopped it: a Japanese radar filled with… spiderwebs; a US destroyer, finding itself suddenly alone in the open ocean? [HUFF] We’ll probably never know.

(MAG143) MANUELA: I… don’t know exactly when it all started to come undone. I think Maxwell first felt the ripples four days before the eclipse was due. [SIGH] It was strange… Like a pause in the hysterical whimpering and fruitless prayers of the sacrifices. And a ripple that was felt through the waters, and the stagnant blood that bound us. A disruption. We would later learn that this was the collapse of the ritual at Hither Green – but it was only the first. […] And as we unveiled our new and absent sun, the sacrifices who remained screamed, and fell in holy agonies, and the world of endless night we had been promised began to pour in, shining out and all around us. It touched and caressed our souls with the soothing fears of night, and I heard Maxwell weeping with joy at what we had done. And then… it stopped. It just… stopped. All at once, that loving embrace was stripped from us, and it began to retreat, to recede back into the place that it had come from. We were so close…! … We were so close…

(MAG151) SIMON: Do you know when the last ritual I attempted was? MARTIN: I… I don’t know, that space station? SIMON: Oh goodness no, that’s the future my boy! But no; it was 1853! The height of the aquarium mania! All over the Empire, people were starting to understand the depths of the terrible unknown below the ocean. And I thought that was a rich vein to be tapped. Even bothered old Halley into helping me design a special diving bell for the ritual. I called it “The Awful Deep” – and between you and me, I was rather proud of myself. MARTIN: … So why didn’t it work? SIMON: Because it… wasn’t a very good idea…? The Fear wasn’t out there, not like I hoped it was. It all sort of… fizzled. Also, a Hunter broke in and destroyed the mechanism, sent me and all my sacrifices plummeting to the bottom of the ocean.

Gertrude had recorded MAG137’s statement in October 2014: a few months before The Dark’s attempt… so it’s probably thanks to this one that she suspected that The Dark would fail on its own…

* And we did, thematically, have many clues during season 4! MAG122 was a very polarising episode when it came to which Fear(s) it was about; MAG126-MAG136 made us wonder if it was the same Spiral avatar “Gabriel” who had been collaborating with Web(?) Neil Lagorio; we (and Gertrude and Martin) felt like Extinction-statements were reminiscent of other Fears; Robert Smirke’s letter in MAG138 had him refuse to admit that his taxonomy wasn’t perfect and didn’t really work; MAG145 had Arthur Nolan complaining about Diego Molina calling their god “Asag” when that aspect encompassed Corruption traits; Jon admitted after reading MAG153’s statement that it was “The Corruption at work, if I had to guess, though with unsettling echoes of a… ‘Fleshliness’”… We had so many moments in which the divisions weren’t really clear, and implicit reminders that Robert Smirke’s taxonomy was one amongst others and certainly far from perfect…

* I wonder if Gertrude felt something, upon learning that… she had sacrificed Jan and Michael (and probably many others) for nothing, and that she could have “just” derailed punctual actions without making many victims… (Though: the bombing in Alexandria was implied to be her doing, and the old Archive wasn’t a current threat. It’s possible that she did that in case Elias-Jonah was planning to use it for Beholding, or to just to try to diminish Beholding… but still, she caused collateral victims quite casually.)

* How ironic, that Gertrude and Elias both understood what was happening thanks to The Dark failing, when Beholding was presented as an opposite power… (And even more ironic for Jonah&Rayner, since it’s through Rayner that Smirke (and therefore Jonah) learned so much about the Powers, and that Rayner was probably Jonah’s direct inspiration when it came to snatching bodies to extend his life…)

* Gertrude took A BIG RISK with the idea that The Dark’s ritual would fail on its own, and I’m really curious about Jonah’s comment that “Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated; but she had not.” => did she really have a backup plan? A way to undo The Dark peering through? I… don’t think that the whole apocalypse at the end of MAG160 can be undone, but that small comment could leave a bit of hope in that regard…? (Unless Gertrude thought she could undo such things, and it’s revealed to not work in season 5.)

* I’m “glad” (ha) that Tim… really didn’t care about stopping The Unknowing in itself, and that his goal was clear:

(MAG117) TIM: … I’m gonna hurt them, though. I’m gonna hurt the things that stole my brother and wrecked my life. I’m the distraction! If it looks like any of the… “circus folk mannequins”, whatever, are gonna see the others, I’m to make the biggest mess I can, draw them away, keep them busy. [SCOFF] I know what it means! They gave it to me because they think I’ll get angry and do something stupid anyway. And they’re probably right. So maybe it’s for the best.

… He did achieve what he wanted in that regard. ;; (I mean, it was heartbreaking, and I’m Constantly Sad About Tim. But at least… he got what he wanted, which was to hurt the Circus and avenge his brother. The ritual would have failed anyway, but there would have still have been mannequins running wild, maybe even Nikola. So. He took them down with him.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The solution, then, is simple: a new ritual must be devised, that will bring through… all the Powers, at once. All Fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new Powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under The Eye’s auspices, of course – we mustn’t forget our roots.”

* AHAH for Jonah still going for a “fourteen” categorisation + isolating The Extinction. He was still fairly influenced by Smirke’s taxonomy, and this reflected in his incantation (on the one hand, the neat categorisations don’t work… but he’s using them anyway) (… which is what I’m doing too, but pssh.)

* OH SHIT for the announcement that he was planning THAT. We could have had a bit of hope given that The Watcher’s Crown had failed already, and was doomed to fail anyway… but nop.

* AHAH about the “we mustn’t forget our roots” because Elias-Jonah reaaaally doesn’t sound super-devoted to his patron.

* I wonder if The Extinction will get relevant in season 5 as an “outside of the box” Power, since Elias was adamant about not including it and trying to do his thing before it would become a concern:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Yeah, but… if he’s right about… The Extinction, what it is… then why didn’t you say anything before? Why am I only hearing about this now, and why doesn’t Jon know?! ELIAS: In my case, while Peter has talked of it before, it is only very recently that I’ve been forced to admit The Extinction is real.

Was he fearing that it would complicate things too much? Is that an aspect of Fear he didn’t understand? (One bit in the Q&A pointed out that There Could Be More Fears unaccounted for, so I wonder if they’ll get purposefully developed in season 5 as a counter, or if not at all…)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: the Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s… ill-timed retirement plans. Because the thing about the Archivist is that… well: it’s a bit of a misnomer. It might, perhaps, be better named “the Archive��. Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon – you are a record of fear. Both in mind, as you walk the shuddering dread of each statement; and in body, as the Powers each leave their mark upon you. You are a living chronicle of terror. [CREAKING] Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one, and each in turn instil in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this… nightmare kingdom. … Do you see where I’m going, Jon? It does tickle me, that in this world of… would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the “Chosen One” is… simply that: someone I chose! It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your… destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.” [THUNDER CLAPPING]

* “Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans” is that the name of your own gun, Elias.

* If we’re going with “audio recording by The Archive” at the start of season 5, I’m going to scream.

* Elias’s sense of drama with the background sounds…

* The dehumanisation was THROUGH THE ROOF, and made for a very AOUCH parallel to Peter’s snarky comment to Martin (MAG126: “I’m just saying, that we’d all be better off if your Archivist actually knew how to archive.”). It was just… horrifying already, that he casually admitted that he had been setting up Jon getting hurt and marked? It was the most common hypothesis, we had been screaming with the last ones getting ticked off during season 4, we knew what was to happen when MAG159’s title had been revealed to be “The Last” (the last assistant, the last Fear to mark Jon), we had no doubt that Elias had been pulling strings in that direction… but still, there was something so unsettling about Jonah casually objectifying Jon and mentioning that he needed Jon to be hurt and afraid for his own goals…

* Oh GODS, the fact that Elias casually answered Jon’s questions about being “chosen”…

(MAG139) ARCHIVIST: Why were we chosen? Agnes was created – crafted with a specific purpose so finely tuned that even a grain of uncertainty threatened the entirety of her being. [CHORTLING] But I’m so full of doubt it feels like there’s no room for anything else, and… I’m sure Martin is the same…! Is there “destiny” here? B–bloodlines and… prophecies, or did we just… stumble into this? Maybe we’re the opposite of Agnes; maybe our doubts are exactly what we need. I–if that’s the case, I’m a… an amazing chosen one. … [LONG EXHALE] Don’t know how that would work, though.

Tim had mentioned that the Fears attacking you was just “bad luck” (MAG117)… and it’s one side of the coin. The flip side, in Jonah’s case, is that no, someone picked you and chose to hurt you. That’s coherent with Elias’s ~paternalistic~ comments about “choices” in MAG092, but really, I do hate (it’s well-done!) how far he goes when it comes to casual victim-blaming, gods.

* How is your hubris today, Jonah. Reminder that characters characterised by their hubris (Leitner, Smirke, Mary…) fell and crashed pretty harshly in TMA, Jonah.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “I’ll admit my options were somewhat limited, but – my God! When you came to me already marked by The Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as a sort of… implicit blessing on my whole project, and… do you know what? I think it was…!”

* Still refisdhnjerfdujbrefduhejkzfsd over the fact that Jonah went basically “oh, The Web probably approved?” when… from what we can guess of The Web, NO, IT PRECISELY SENT JON TO USE YOU, YOU DUMB VICTORIAN!!

* “What does the Spider want?” is still the eternal question – why did it want/allow this apocalypse to happen? If it wanted to prevent it, it would have had many occasions to prevent Jon from coming into contacts with other Fears, so… What does the Mother want out of it?

* Jon had mentioned that The Web had “touched” him first:

(MAG081) ARCHIVIST: I do not know how many of them there are, or precisely how they separate, but I do know that the Eye – Beholding – was not the first that I encountered in my life. The first was the Spider. The Web. And I have no idea what that might mean. […] The first of the dark powers to touch me, perhaps, but it did not claim me.

… And it just added up to Jonah’s terribleness: just reminding Jon that he had been picked because of the Web-story that had terrorised his youth…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push; learn how you worked. So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and while she was always prepared… I made sure you would not be. I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all Fourteen. So when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start. You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how much further you would get – though I waited until the worms were in you to pull the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.”

* … It explained why he Elias was occasionally almost praising Jon’s survival skills:

(MAG080) LEITNER: And what’s he going to think when he gets back? ELIAS: Well, he was always going to need to fly the nest at some point. Go out and see the world for himself. LEITNER: He might die. ELIAS: It’s always a danger. Almost always.

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: What do you want? ELIAS: Honestly? To offer some congratulations. You’re doing a lot better than I expected. ARCHIVIST: Feels like all I’ve managed to do is… not die. ELIAS: And believe me, that is a remarkably rare skill.

* Re: the dehumanisation, it was incredible how it sounded like Jonah was talking about a small animal that he had to tame (and… even that, taming it in a bad way). It put such a bittersweet light on their exchanges in season 1? Because back then, it was still obvious that Jon had some respect for him…

* When I had listened to MAG040 for the first time, I had pictured Elias having a coffee, a smoke, another coffee, waiting for it to cool down, before pulling the lever; I mean, how much time would it take for him to reach it in a small Institute? I was already spoiled that he was Bad, back then, but… the fact that Jonah casually admitted that HE had been the one who got to decide whether or not Jon had the “right” to live at the end of MAG039 is another kind of terribleness………

* He was casually insensitive towards Jon’s wounds in MAG040 (comparing them to Swiss Cheese), and I’m not sure if that was a conscious effort to mess with Jon, or just his very natural lack of empathy showing through.

* The only “help” they had gotten against the worms had been provided by Michael, through Sasha, with the tip regarding the fire extinguishers… How much did Jon have to insist for Elias to provide them with some…?

* Not even a mention of Tim, who had gone through hell at the same time as Jon – and it was very telling… that for Jonah, Tim had only been collateral damage, not really mattering.

* There was something incredibly cruel in that “all the way to your bones”, and Jonah was absolutely just reopening old wounds and reactivating Jon’s trauma and terrors, uh…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The discovery that one of The Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that “vague wrongness” you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark… it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct, and affecting, manner. Admittedly, given the advent of The Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered – but what’s the old saying about hindsight? More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with The Distortion. If “it” had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path. So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement. … Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost on those… narrow London side streets. It worked, though. Between the stabbing, and at least two desperate flights into its door… you’re marked very deep by The Spiral.”

* Again: Fork U, re: “hindsight” joke.

* Not!Sasha had mentioned as soon as MAG040 that Elias had stared at her “funnily”, which was a good indicator that he knew… but I’m surprised that Elias admitted that he had not noticed the moment The Stranger had infiltrated the Institute, before it was too late? He should have known the risk associated with the table, right? The Not!Them had been bound to it for fifteen years at this point!

* Get a double slice of Stranger in your face, Jon.

* ;; Tim wasn’t mentioned at all in Jonah’s statement, and that’s the only mention of Sasha… just as someone who had allowed The Distortion to come closer…

* I DIDN’T EXPECT AT ALL THE BIT ABOUT HELEN!!! FUCK!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO GO “Poor Helen” AT HER, YOU HORRIBLE NASTY MAN!! That was one of the cruellest new things in his statement, the fact that he had sent her to give a statement and shoved her into a taxi, only to nudge Michael towards Jon??? I wonder whether Helen-the-Distortion remembers it: it might get relevant in season 5…? We never saw Elias interact with The Distortion, after all, and he had a very poor opinion of Michael in MAG092.

* Yeah, “marked very deep by The Spiral”, uh. Uh. (Stabbing from MAG047 when Jon tried to save Helen, first flight into the corridors at the end of MAG078, second journey through the corridors at the end of MAG101, small adventure in the corridors in MAG131, another journey through the corridors at the end of MAG143. No wonder Jonah has a hard time keeping track of the amount of times.)

* ;; No mention at all that both Tim and Martin had experienced the Not!Them’s deceptions and that they also went through Michael’s corridors… once again, collaterals who didn’t matter much to him, uh…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to… improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast. I… justified it to myself, saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.”

* So: it wasn’t necessarily that Elias didn’t want Leitner to tell Jon about the Institute being a temple to Beholding and Elias being bad (which Leitner did tell Jon), but about Gertrude’s own conclusions regarding Elias being in fact “Jonah Magnus”, and the rituals not working. So once again… Gertrude withholding information and not sharing it all actually worked in the world’s disfavour – Leitner was still concerned about The Unknowing, when the priority should have lain elsewhere…

* Confirmation, once again, that Elias had indeed no idea about Leitner living in the tunnels back then. We still don’t know if he truly has trouble seeing down there, or if it was solely A Disappearance protecting Leitner from his sight…

* Funny thing is that Elias has been pretty consistent about the fact that Leitner was a bit of a mistake:

(MAG092) ELIAS: So. For the avoidance of any doubt. I killed Gertrude Robinson because she intended to destroy the Archives. And I killed Jurgen Leitner because he was… an unnecessary complication. Likely to tell Jon too much, too early.

(MAG102) ELIAS: I have been trying to give you the information you need. ARCHIVIST: Sure, when you’re not bashing its head in with a pipe. ELIAS: Leitner was… I will admit I possibly… overreacted to his sudden re-emergence.

(MAG108) PETER: Oh. That doesn’t sound like the Elias I know. He killed people himself? MARTIN: I mean, I wasn’t, I wasn’t there, but that’s what he said…? And I did see the body. Er, bodies. PETER: Elias Bouchard, getting his hands dirty. Well-well. Must be the End Times.

* Obligatory “oh my GODS, ELIAS…” re: “I justified [Leitner’s murder] to myself” because… talk about something that feels like a Web-thing. It was repeated many times that the violent impulsive bit was surprising from Elias, and Jon had precisely left the room to smoke a cigarette (recurrent theme of the Web, Jon in possession of a Web lighter etc.), leaving Leitner alone. That. Sounds awfully like Elias being a tool of The Web, rather than making that decision by himself………

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body, in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.”

* Elias revealed that he had used his ways to get her assigned on the case… while their first interaction in MAG082 consisted in Elias blackmailing her right away. Typical.

* So, in a way, people that Elias feels he “chose” so far: Jon… and Daisy.

* … So that was why he just threw out that random bit about Jon Being Very Dangerous:

(MAG082) ELIAS: I leave the matter of Jonathan Sims up to you, though I will not tell you where he is. I suggest you close the case and move on, but if you find yourself unable to do so, my advice is to kill him quickly. There’s no telling what he might be capable of.

He didn’t really need to, though, given how Daisy had her own grudge against Jon (the fact that he had unwittingly forced her to give him her statement against her will). But I do appreciate how Elias tried to frame him, and Basira just waltzed in, told Daisy “For god’s sake look at him!” (MAG091) when she was threatening him… and yup, indeed. Does not look like a murderer. (Although nowadays, Peter would like to differ.)

* Obligatory I’M SAD ABOUT DAISY, because, back then, she wouldn’t have minded much… but if she were to regain her sense in season 5 somehow (ha), how upset would she be to learn that the time she had hurt Jon (strangled or sliced his throat a bit) had worked as his Hunt mark, crossing another one off…? (Though, later, Julia&Trevor also did the work: Jon was hunted by Julia, and hurt by them both when they threatened him in season 4.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a… few avatars I thought were likely to harm you, but probably would stop short of actually killing you. Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr Crew – marking you for The Desolation, and The Vast.”

* I call bullshit on Jude, since trying to track her down… wasn’t the only conclusion you could make of Gertrude’s recording in MAG087: Gertrude mentioned she was back in London, sure, but it was a Stranger-related statement about the imminence of The Unknowing, and there were many leads to take from that one (investigating the forest? The skin aspect? The mannequins?), especially since Jon knew he had to try to stop the ritual. So, on that one, pretty sure it was Jonah making sense “retroactively”, but that he really had no idea where Jon would go with it.

* Though I can believe that he had made sure that “rumours” saying that he had been the one to kill Gertrude would reach the Lightless Flame, as Jude as heard (not fundamentally to make sure she wouldn’t harm Jon… but to make sure that they wouldn’t attack the Institute after Gertrude’s death).

* Same, Jude directing Jon towards Mike really was a fluke, thanks to Jon&Jude’s conversation!

* Jonny trying to hammer that Mike Crew Is Absolutely Dead And Done, once again.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Honestly, I had… nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here; so whenever her rage bubbled over, you were right there, a ready target. I didn’t foresee the mark coming from… surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.”

* Alllriiight, so that’s what he was checking in MAG084, when we heard static when he was talking with Melanie! He discovered the bullet in that moment.

* ;; Slaughtered!Melanie was blaming Jon for being responsible of the fact she was trapped here… and she was wrong, but a bit of truth was in there – Elias had trapped her because she would be useful for his plans regarding Jon.

* List of people Jonah “chose”: Jon, Daisy, Melanie.

* OH GODS, AND THAT WAS WHY HE WAS SO CHIRPY IN MAG102…………

(MAG102) ARCHIVIST: I get, I get that you hate being here, Melanie, but do you really want to trade it for prison? MELANIE: No! But the way I see it, the police seem really keen not to investigate crimes committed here. ELIAS: That’s actually fair. ARCHIVIST: Shut up…! Melanie, please. […] We, We will… We will find a way to deal with… with him. Not today. A–and not like this. ELIAS: I am still here, you know. ARCHIVIST: And if you weren’t, I assume you would be watching this conversation, so... Melanie, we can’t do this. Not yet.

I had assumed, back then, that he was just very dumb, but… no. He was probably throwing oil on the fire on purpose, to try to get Jon stabbed by her right then, right there.

* ;; Same, I wonder if Melanie will learn that her stabbing him was actually a Slaughter mark, engineered/hoped by Jonah…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something The Unknowing served to test, though it posed no… actual danger in the grand scheme of things.”

* And that explained Elias’s comments about what he considered Jon’s necessary progresses, successes and failures!

(MAG116) ELIAS: I have been doing my best to prepare you, Jon, to See. You should hopefully have it a bit easier than the others. ARCHIVIST: Another of my… powers? ELIAS: More… an aspect of your becoming.

(MAG120) ELIAS: You’re doing well, Jon. I only hope you can continue your growth without my guidance.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. His performance during The Unknowing was… disappointing. I needed a way to force him to harness his ability more acutely than he had before. The coffin was a useful tool; Daisy an adequate bait. BASIRA: Then you messed up. Way he tells it, he doesn’t know how he got out of there. ELIAS: But he did. And his powers were no small part of it. Even if he required some assistance, they were what saved him. And he’s still achieved what no one – mortal, monster, or anything in-between – has ever been able to. He climbed out of The Buried.

Elias praised him for his dreams, because they were proof of his records of fears; he lamented what he did during The Unknowing, since Jon was barely able to survive in it (ultimately resorting to compulsion, giving Tim the tools to press on the detonator)…

* And that was also why he was pushing for Jon to go in person despite the plan not relying on him:

(MAG117) ARCHIVIST: Tim isn’t going to sit home and wait, and Elias seems pretty insistent I go along. Part of me thinks it’s just so that we can see if whatever this… preparation he’s been trying to do on me works. And you know what? That same… petty little part of me… rather hopes it doesn’t; that all this time, all his… cryptic nudges and “learn to fly by falling” attitude ends up being a complete waste of time. Just to show him. Even so, I–I– it wouldn’t… feel right to not go.

… because ultimately, he was testing Jon in a controlled environment.

* (Still no mention of Tim who died there, and it was just adding to Jonah’s overall cruelty? The fact that Sasha and Tim died… and that it didn’t matter at all in his plans…)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront Death – a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die; too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why. As it was, it was just right; and once again you came through with flying colours.”

* No wonder that Jonah was the most worried about The End’s mark, given his own personal relationship to the fear of dying, uh.

* And :) The Web :) Sent :) An avatar of The End to wake up Jon and make him “choose”. Which Jonah didn’t mention at all, and it seems like a huge oversight – Jon didn’t “come through with flying colours” on his own, he was given the keys to decide what would happen of him, and it’s not Jonah who provided them, but Oliver, sent by The Mother.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “By this point, your abilities were coming on in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you… knowing something you shouldn’t. I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal. All that remained, then, were The Dark, The Flesh, The Buried and The Lonely.”

* Confirmation (once again after MAG120) that Martin HAD surprised him with his plan, and that Elias wasn’t really preparing Peter as an Interim Director because he thought the assistants would get him arrested, but because he had something else in mind.

* Was he planning to go hide in Scotland, or in a Lukas estate.

* So confirmation that indeed, he was trying to hide his main reason for preventing Jon from seeing him:

(MAG127) ELIAS: He can listen all he wants, but he’s at a very delicate stage right now, and I… fear my presence would be a, hum… [LIGHT JANGLING OF HANDCUFFS] a distraction.

(MAG148) ARCHIVIST: You should have let me come with. BASIRA: No. Besides, he wouldn’t have seen me if I had.

He had explained this right after Jon had described to Basira his inner “door” of knowledge, and how he tended to Know things when close to people or concepts… So it was indeed Elias trying to avoid Jon from compelling him or forcing a statement out of him or knowing about his plans.

* And yeah, this is how we had begun season 4. Only four remaining. orz

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then… Oh! You should have seen my face, when you voluntarily went to him. I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.”

* Alright so: Elias confirmed that he was behind Jared’s letters:

(MAG131) JARED: The letters started comin’ in about two years ago. Good white paper, large print. Nice and simple. Dunno who sent them; they were never signed, and I dunno how they kept finding me. There was never much in them; normally just a name, and a place, or a time. I ignored the first couple, but they kept coming, and eventually I got curious. So, I followed the instructions in one of ‘em. […] I didn’t doubt the letters again. They came pretty regular after that. And they always led to summat good. Quality bones, a new mate, or some unlucky fool who wouldn’t look at me for the fear. It got so I trusted them. The letters, I mean. So I didn’t question them. There’s a lotta stuff in this world I’ve never understood, and these were no different. Then I got one about your lot, your Archives. Told me to go there and kill you. They even sent a picture. So I did. Well, I tried. Didn’t know about those tunnels, or wherever this place is, but the pipes… they were wide enough for me and a few mates to squeeze through, bit by bit, one bone at a time.

… Back when the episode had aired, I had multiple suspects: Annabelle, obviously (since there was the matter of the big font in MAG123), potentially Adelard (because what was he doing?? … we didn’t know at the time that he was already dead.), potentially Peter (to push Martin towards him), and also Elias… because of the “bones” + the irony of the “pipes”. I can’t believe it was Elias, I hate everything.

* We had speculated a lot about the intentions of the person who had sent Jared after the Archives: was it to “punish” the assistants? To make sure they would fragment and avoid for them to plan together again like they had at the end of season 3? Was it to push Martin towards Peter? To enhance Melanie’s Slaughter effects? Was it someone targeting Jon himself, and just not knowing that he was currently in a not!coma? … And nop: it was indeed targeting Jon, and the letters had been sent by someone who knew that Jon was currently away from the Archives.

* I mean. Elias. Elias, my dude, my Victorian bro. What did you expect, by making Jared used to attack people on sight as soon as he would receive letters with his next target, when you sent him a letter with his next target? WHO was really the idiot there.

* “I couldn’t see what happened in there” is an unfortunate confession: so Jonah… can’t see in Helen’s corridors. That could come in handy during season 5…

* This is an implicit confirmation: Elias is not the one listening through the tapes, since Jon’s encounter with Jared was recorded, but Elias only drew his conclusions when he came out.

* HEY ELIAS. HOW FUNNY THAT THE WEB HAD SENT A FLESH-RELATED STATEMENT TO JON, DRAWING HIM TO THE CONCLUSION THAT HIS OWN BODY COULD BE USED AS AN ANCHOR, AND THUS CONTRIBUTING TO HIM GOING DOWN TO SEE JARED AND ASKED HIM TO REMOVE A RIB, THUS MARKING HIM FOR THE FLESH. HOW FUNNY HOW THE WEB BASICALLY SAVED YOUR PLANS’ BUTTS WHEN YOU HAD DRAMATICALLY FAILED.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting. Honestly, Detective Tonner has proven invaluable through this whole process. [CHUCKLE] I was racking my brains for month about what I could use to lure you in.”

* Breekon wasn’t sure why he was going to the Institute, and that’s another “potentially the Web” thing.

* ;; Sad because “wild goose chase” has been the recurring way of referring to Basira getting misled and manipulated… (MAG134: “Then, your detective friend went on one of Elias’s wild goose chases, then Jon wilfully hurled himself into the coffin.” / MAG148: “So, what now? Another wild goose chase?”) There was something gratuitously mean about calling her “restraining factors” instead of her name…

* I’m SAD about DAISY, okay orz The fact that he presented her as a tool for his goals…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting; so when it came time, I whipped up another apocalypse, and sent you on your merry way.”

* It was a very strange thing that he would just begin to talk about the Dark Sun right after Jon had learned about it through a statement, indeed, so… I guess that he got inspired by Jon, rather than having that one under his sleeve all along?

* Also: he made sure that the police would get rid of Rayner and a few cultists during season 2. If he hadn’t done that, there would have still been a few powerful but diminished Dark avatars roaming around, who could have been used to mark Jon. So really: lots of posturing but actually lots of improvising, though Jonah isn’t really admitting that – but it’s interesting to focus on what he doesn’t talk about to clear that up a bit…

* Still laughing in retrospect that he… didn’t really try to Sell the Dark ritual much. It was mostly a “you can’t afford to be wrong about it being nothing” to Basira, and she had ample preexisting reasons to think that The Dark could be a threat (since she had lost a colleague against them, and that it had put into motion the chain of events leading her to quit the police).

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Then all that remained… was The Lonely. Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. [CHUCKLE] Or just done what I’d asked in the first place. Ah, well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him… a little wager about Martin. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.”

* Fork you and your puns, Jonah.

* ;; Peter did explain to Jon that he was weak to a wager, in MAG159…

* I’m a bit sad that we never saw Elias&Peter interact a bit more… cordially, since they had been acquaintances for at least 20 years – we didn’t really see why they were putting up with the other, and Jonah didn’t sound heartbroken (at all) over Peter’s annihilation? On the other hand, the bitter exes dynamic was hilarious but… you know. I’ll miss Peter, he was so awful and fun.

* Confirmation that Martin was Jon’s anchor… and Elias knew it full well.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? [RUMBLE OF THUNDER] He’s earned that.”

* Big “OH NO” moment on first listen, because I got seized up by the dread that something was currently happening to Martin (who was outside, alone), and that would be how Jonah would be striking… I really didn’t expect the final incantation.

* Fork you and your puns 2.0, Jonah.

* I HATE that “he’s earned that”, implying that Martin made efforts and sacrifices just to be taken care of and/or that he ~served Jonah’s plans so well~ that he’s earned to get his love story during the apocalypse.

* …………….. But also….. Listen………………. Elias->Martin is one of my favourite ships, okay……. And it was just candy……. that Elias would randomly remember him……

* Or: not so randomly, since the point of his whole statement seemed to have been to make Jon’s old fears and pain bubble over the surface all over again. What could be more efficient than suddenly bringing up Martin, when Jon knew that Martin was alone outside?

* I have a Lot Of Feelings over the fact that the last person to (unwillingly) serve Elias’s plans… was Martin. For his plan to work, Jonah needed to be sure that Jon would go after Martin (we heard a lot of pining through season 4, and so did Elias, uh.), and that Martin would be the key for Jon to come back (which is something he likely deduced from The Buried?). It’s still the thing that scares me much about Jonah: you would want him to underestimate and overlook affection, friendship and love between people… but no. He’s fully able to take those things into account — and to turn them against you.

(Though: I’m really not sure that he knew that Jon had feelings for Martin, or was likely to develop some, back when he sent Peter to Martin in MAG108, nor that Martin would fork Peter over (since he hadn’t taken Elias down yet)… He could have been relying on the fact that Martin had a crush, back then, to make sure that Martin would stick to Jon’s side and not lose himself to The Lonely? And Jon was already adamant about protecting his remaining assistants: he would have gone to save Basira, Daisy or Melanie in The Lonely, too, just like he rescued Daisy. I’m not sure the idea of an anchor to find his way back had crossed Jonah’s mind before The Buried… Jonah presents a lot of things organically and logically through his statements, but he’s probably rearranging details in his advantage: he got very lucky, quite often. … Or, well. The appropriateness of the term “Lucky” depends on how much The Web will be revealed to have contributed.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And there, I think we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but… past here lies only impatience. You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of The Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here – in the world that we have made.”

* At this point, I still didn’t know how he would strike, and still not expecting an incantation.

* I hatehatehate Jonah’s use of first-person plural. It’s nothing new:

(MAG092) ELIAS: [SIGH] What are you? ARCHIVIST: I… The Archivist. ELIAS: Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others. To simply be told, well… ARCHIVIST: It doesn’t please your master? ELIAS: Our master, Jon. […] We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron.

… but here? Absolutely making complicit, almost like an associate, when he was forcing Jon to read, when he had pointed out as soon as his first lines that Jon would try to resist reading? Awful.

On the incantation in itself:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “You who watch and know and understand none; You who listen and hear and will not comprehend; You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right; Come to us in your wholeness! Come to us in your perfection! Bring all that is fear, and all that is terror, and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies! Come to us! I – OPEN – THE DOOR!”

* It’s still interesting that, when it comes to aspects of the Amorphous Blob Of Terrors, Jonah still went for the good old fourteen regarding Jon’s marks and the incantation (Beholding + Corruption, Buried, Dark, Vast, Spiral, Lonely, Stranger, Web, Desolation, Hunt, Slaughter, Flesh, End). Indeed, he was planning on doing things before the Extinction would fully emerge, but I wonder if other potential aspects, that have been left out, will get relevant in season 5…

* Aaaaaaaaaaaand… there was a general expectation/fear in the fandom, since Jon had mentioned his inner door of knowledge, that it would be opened at some point:

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It’s… hard. It’s like there’s a–a–a door, in my mind. And behind it, is… i–is the entire ocean. Before, I didn’t notice it, but now, I–I know it’s there, and I can’t forget it, and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. I–I–I, I can keep it closed… but sometimes, when I’m around p–people, or–or places, or… ideas… a drop or two will push through the cracks, at the edges of the door. And I’ll… know something. BASIRA: … What happens, if you open the door? [PAUSE] ARCHIVIST: I drown.

On that one, I think that Jonah might have used the imagery of the “door” specifically because it was a really strong symbolic element for Jon: Mr Spider’s door, that he hadn’t knocked on; Helen’s door in his dreams, that he refuses to open (MAG120: “There is a door in front of him. A yellow door. He knows the dream it used to lead to; he knows it well. But that’s not where it leads anymore. He does not know what is behind it anymore, and he is deathly afraid of finding out. The Archivist turns away.”) as well as his refusal to knock on her door through season 4 until MAG146; there is also the fact that people who knew Jon rarely tended to knock on his door in season 1 and 2 (they just barged in), as if they knew knocking was something he didn’t appreciate.

Independently, Martin got kind of a warning (?) with The Extinction (MAG134: “It talked of Garland Hillier’s “new revelation”, about the absolute change of the world in terms that seemed at first elegiac, but later seemed… almost panicked, with the final entry simply repeating the words [STATIC:] “La porte est la porte.” “The door is the door.””), although it was another sort of movement: leaving your comfortable world to go into another, and coming back to yours safely. Not sure it will be that simple in season 5.

* New all-Fears ritual doesn’t have a name but would be tentatively called “The Magnus Archive” according to Jonny-on-discord, which. Sob.

- What I find interesting in what Jonah didn’t mention at all:

* It was revealing that he didn’t mention the assistants (or barely): didn’t mention Tim or Sasha’s deaths, Melanie’s escape, Daisy turning into a beast again, Basira being still trapped there. He had presented the assistants as disposable in MAG092, he really wanted to hammer in that it was the case here, uh… (Although he might have appreciated Basira a tiny bit this season?)

* I’m still curious about why he didn’t want Tim to go to The Unknowing. Was it because he was fearing that Tim would go rogue and definitely kill Jon there? … Or was it because he was fearing that Tim would die there while he had other projects for him? (… Next host…?)

* Nothing about Jon’s relationship to the tape recorders, which, mmmmmmmmmmmm.

* Nothing about Jon’s Web lighter sticking to him.

* A surprisingly short mention of The Web and that was it, despite how obviously it appeared that The Web had been a bit more involved than this in Jon’s adventures.

* … It’s still extremely suspicious to me that a Web-touched “Jonathan” began working at the Institute, while Jonah used to be friends with a “Jonathan Fanshawe” (“my namesake” according to Jon) who ultimately told him to fork off. That doesn’t really feel like narrative irony, but something pushed on purpose to get Jonah’s attention?

* It was Elias’s big moment of claiming his actions, and a few mysteries remain since he didn’t claim credit for Martin’s “intuition” of putting tape recorders around the Coffin to get Jon back, nor for putting Adelard’s last statement (originally an email!) on Jon’s desk, nor for the tape of Gertrude’s murder in Jon’s drawer. So… Web actions?

- I can’t believe that:

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [CONSTANT FUZZY STATIC] MARTIN: Wake up, wake up…! Wake, Jon–Jon–JON, wake up! [SLAP] ARCHIVIST: [YELP] Uh, wha– … Martin…?

Alex&Jonny are promising there will be no onscreen kiss… but we did get a slap.

- That was ONE HELL OF AN ENDING:

(MAG160) MARTIN: I, I don’t know if it’s just here, or if it– ARCHIVIST: No. … No, it’s everywhere… They’re all here, now. I can feel… all of it. MARTIN: J– … Jon, I’m scared. ARCHIVIST: [HINT OF A COLD SMILE] The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me. And The Watcher… drinks it all in. MARTIN: … Jon? ARCHIVIST: Look at the sky, Martin! Look at the sky. It’s looking back! [BROKEN LAUGHTER] [CLICK.]

I love how it was impossible to tell if Jon was genuinely laughing or breaking down sobbing, and it was probably a mix of both.

- The situation, as it ends, leaves potential for everyone to feel guilty:

* Jon already highlighted it (“The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me.”) – although he was manipulated, pushed in that direction, and ultimately controlled into doing it without being able to fight back. In Jon’s case, one source of heartbreak is that he had tried to cling, although bittersweetly, to the idea that sacrifices had to be made to save the world:

(MAG093) GEORGIE: Jonathan Sims, are you trying to save the world? ARCHIVIST: I… Yeah. I… I guess I am.

(MAG150) ARCHIVIST: What about The Unknowing? We, we saved the world! MELANIE: Did we? I… I mean, I–I think it was the right thing to do, but how many people were killed to do it? We, we weren’t even a neutral party; we did it as agents of The Eye, because Elias told us to. […] You ever think that maybe this whole… ritual business is just an excuse, an–and that we’re all part of some… huge miserable Fear-machine? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I’ve… considered the possibility.

(MAG155) ARCHIVIST: I’ve… [DRY CHUCKLE] I’ve saved the world…! The whole world! Does that… give me the right to… [SIGH] take what I need to survive…? I’ve been reading nothing but these old, [FLAPPING PAPER] dry statements for so long, I… [PAPER RUSTLING] I feel weak. Like I’m… fading away. Do I restrain myself, keep my appetite in check, even at the cost of my life? Or do I try to rationalise what I am, like… Ms. McHugh?

And the end of the season was a double-slap: he hadn’t even saved the world in the first place… and he was instrumentalised to cause the apocalypse in the end.

* Martin hadn’t checked the statements, had decided to go for a walk, and had previously been used for Jon’s last mark with The Lonely (and their situation is kind of echoing what Jon had told Peter, when he wasn’t managing to get Martin back at first: “… It was for me, though. I’m the reason he…! … I did this to him as much as you.”) – although, of course, none of it was his fault.

* Basira had been the one to send the statements, and it’s unclear yet if Jonah’s was already snuck inside the pile she sent, whether he added it during the transit (… or if he had made her put it in with the others? I doubt it, but how would Basira react, if he were to promise her that he could lead her to Daisy…?) – although she had done it in good faith, to make sure that Jon would keep himself in check.

* Daisy marked Jon for The Hunt, and then was used as bait for The Buried…

* Melanie gave Jon his Slaughter scar, Melanie&Georgie refused to help Jon at the end of MAG157 because they didn’t want to be associated with the fears (and it was their full right).

I like how bittersweet it is, to see how “easily” things could have been avoided? While, of course, they didn’t want the apocalypse to happen, and they were fighting against someone who had a few centuries of planning behind him, without knowing where he would strike. They’re not responsible for any of it, objectively, but I’m curious about their perceptions of the matter…

- Still so impressed at the build-up for this season, because we had so many hints that are easy to see in retrospect, or things that were easily discernible thematically, though it was harder to see where it was supposed to go…

* The scar/marks theory had been a popular one for a long while, even acknowledged by Jon:

(MAG093) ARCHIVIST: Elias has been sending me statements, apparently to prepare me, whatever that means, but some of the people I’ve been talking to have been… very dangerous. I’m starting to feel like a bit of a punching bag, to be honest. Would be nice to meet a monster, and not have a scar to show for it.

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Oh. It–it’s fine; scalpel wounds… [CHUCKLE] they heal quickly. BASIRA: Hm. ARCHIVIST: … Too quickly, really. [CHUCKLE] BASIRA: Already? [CHAIR SCRAPES] ARCHIVIST: Just another scar for the collection!

And we were right about it ;; The question was mostly why it was necessary, the assumption was that it was to prepare him for The Watcher’s Crown… and it was even worse than that.

* A big chunk of season 4 was about investigating rituals: in season 3, we knew that The Spiral, The Buried and The Unknowing were not current threats anymore. This season, we were told that The Flesh, The Vast and The Slaughter were past concerns, that The Dark had already had its turn recently, why exactly The Buried had failed, what had neutralised The Desolation, that The Hunt’s whole concept dictates that it couldn’t really have a culmination point, that Gertrude had savagely taken care of The Lonely’s, that The Corruption might have had its try with the attack on the Institute, that The End and The Web aren’t really in the game (or are they.)… and ultimately that The Watcher’s Crown had already been attempted 150 years ago. The surprise laid with the fact that Jonah was planning bigger.

* We already had a few hints that something was off in season 1 and 2 (Elias being a filing clerk in the 70s, but joining the Institute in 1991 and… changing… a lot… to the point he had become the new Head in 1996), but it only increased afterwards: starting season 3, Jonah’s letters were systematically episodes in which Elias was appearing (MAG092, MAG098, MAG127, MAG138); Elias’s detailed knowledge of Jonah’s actions and emotions in MAG092; Manuela presenting the Head of the Institute as an old friend of Maxwell Rayner (MAG135) and not naming him; Eric Delano’s surprise about Elias changing so much (MAG154)… + Elias tending to appear in episodes with “remains” in the title (MAG040, MAG092, MAG127), which. ha.

* A whole thematic arc was, also, about Jon’s identity (as a person or a monster), leading to Martin’s “I see you” and ending with acceptance.

* So. Many. Doors. This seasons. And it led to Elias opening That One.

Overall thoughts looking back over season 4, re: big questions I had towards the end of season 3 / beginning of season 4:

- I’m still laughing really hard that “Wow, Jon, sounds like pining” at the beginning of the season turned out to have been actual pining. I was cautious about it from experience (it could be something else, feelings don’t have to be romantic in nature to be important, you can long for someone without being romantically interested, qpp is a thing, etc.) and then! Surprise, children! The Archivist had it bad.

- Adelard Dekker wasn’t showing up… because he was dead already (died even before Gertrude). I was growing suspicious of it but ;; Ouft, the way he gave his farewells…

- No Lukas!Martin (well, one could still run with that without contradicting canon, but it would also clash with the recurring theme that bloodlines do not actually matter in the end); in the end, Peter’s interest in Martin specifically was because of 1°) abandonment/longing issues, 2°) one-sided crush (which ended up reciprocated), 3°) Elias needing Peter to choose Martin and sending Peter after him specifically because he thought that Martin would ultimately reject Peter’s plan, thus ensuring Elias’s win. At the time of their encounter (MAG108), Martin hadn’t even proved to Elias that he was more cunning that Elias accounted for! Picked Martin for gayness (at the time, Elias probably thought that Martin would cling to Jon’s side and/or that Jon would try to get him back since he was overall concerned for his assistants, thus getting scarred by The Lonely in the process?), ended up winning because of Martin being more cleverer than assumed and Elias had faith that Martin would be allowed to play Peter like the cheap whistle he is. (Look, I’m not saying that Elias->Martin is the superior ship, but–)

(Something funny: Elias sent Peter to Martin in MAG108, and that was shortly after MAG106, in which Melanie and Basira’s office gossip made it clear that Martin’s concern over Jon was not Martin’s usual behaviour, and that other characters were suspecting that there were romantic feelings behind it. Given Elias’s tendency to improvise, I still think it’s absolutely possible that… Elias hadn’t even noticed the crush before Melanie&Basira talked about it.)

- I was so cautious about the assumption that Rayner was body-hopping, I was expecting that to be a red herring or something more complicated, but nop! Occam’s Razor, he absolutely was.

Same for Jonah Magnus and also dead wrong in that regard (but it does make sense that the two operated similarly, since Jonah knew him and in this world the supernatural tends to work… the way you think it should work) =D

- … So, confirmed in the Q&A that Gertrude was meant to have been shot multiple times on tape, and that there was no foul play in the fact that we only heard one gunshot in MAG158 vs. the three holes in her body Martin had reported in MAG040. So I was off the mark about that too, and she truly was meant to have died in March 2015 during The Dark’s ritual attempt!

(Though there is still the problem of MAG087 not making any sense when it comes to the dates… so there could still be Something, but no gunshot involved?)

- I loved how one of the focuses this season was the ritual, and the conclusion it reached! Basira had introduced the concern over the rituals (and specifically Beholding’s) in MAG123, we spent the whole season cataloguing which ones had failed recently, sometimes being told how they had been interrupted, sometimes not but with some wild-mass guessing; it was a major concern all through the season, and the pay-off was grandiose and making so much sense given what we already knew!

- I’m still laughing very hard about the anticipation of the Ny-Ålesund trip, in which I was expecting butchery and Bad Things Happening To Basira (we knew, back then, that a blind character was likely coming), and maybe Rayner wasn’t truly dead?? What about The Dark’s creature?? What about the cultists and Manuela’s branch??? What about the incoming eclipse in August 2018???

… and nop, it was a bust, Elias had been a misleading arsehole, Rayner and Dark creature and most cultists dead, ritual utterly failed in 2015, Manuela alone and unable to do anything. Big “eLIAS” moment.

- Fav period was the speculation regarding Jon’s anchor, because it was wild and delightful, and I still sometimes randomly snicker remembering Lottie&Jonny’s exchange about it.

- I desperately wanted to “hear Daisy’s voice”, metaphorically (… and also, like. concretely. Fay Roberts’s voice, okay.): it was funny in MAG117 to have her skip her testament and just load a gun but, also, it wasn’t really shaping her as a 3D character? And gods, was I pleased with this season and what she had to say about what she had experienced, committed, and the feelings she had about it. I think she was my fav character this season ;_;

- We still don’t know what The Web’s deal is, but given how Jon&co were kicked out of Hill Top Road (Not Levelled Up Enough / Not The Right Time, Inspect This Area For Plot Later), it’s definitely coming in season 5.

Things I overall liked less:

(Obligatory disclaimer: personal taste and opinions, things that resonated less or more uncomfortably with me. This is not a statement that these fictional things shouldn’t exist + the show is not over, there is One Last Season, so a few reveals or development could happen that would make me like these things better overall~)

- A bit sad about the “Elias was actually Jonah Magnus all along” reveal! I do admit it’s been well-done and well-played, I did pick up on the hints here and there (Elias mentioning something that had happened in the 1970s, Jon noticing that Elias Bouchard’s reported behaviour in the past was very different from the man he knows, Elias knowing way too much about Barnabas Bennett’s disappearance, Sarah/the Anglerfish’s “It’s Elias now, then?” and Nikola’s “Elias, can I call you Elias?” (The Stranger had reasons to have a kick with his identity-stealing methods!), Manuela conveying Rayner’s hello, the fact that Robert Smirke had pointed out that Jonah feared death most of all); the reveal was incredible and breath-taking… but! I do agree that it would have been a completely different story (this one is the story of someone refusing to die, and who has been sacrificing anything and anyone over two centuries to gain “power and immortality”), but I would have loved it if the local and consistent big bad had been a lazy privileged but opportunistic student who had found his calling in scheduling and paperwork twenty years ago ^^

- A bit sad, too, that it means we’ve never met an avatar of Beholding (or someone affiliated with Beholding) who wholly worships it? Clearly, Jonah is a lot more Beholding than he admitted (and there was reverence in how he described it in MAG120), but he also wants to think that he mostly used it for his own gain. No (twisted) love like Jane and the Hive, or Jude&Eugene towards The Desolation, or Manuela towards The Dark, or Hezekiah towards The Buried, or Simon towards The Vast, etc.

I wonder if we’ll meet a true and unabashed servant of Beholding in season 5?

- I loved Peter&Elias’s “divorced multiple times” energy, but I’m a bit sad that it felt so unbalanced in Peter’s disfavour in the end: it clearly felt like Elias-Jonah had toyed with him a lot, while Peter was too young and lacking experience and knowledge to be able to see when he was being manipulated?

- A bit surprised about the lack of Tim! His death was heart-breaking, and as much as circumstances weren’t great for some mourning and pondering about him (Jon woke up six months after his death, when other characters had lived through it), it… didn’t really feel like Tim had existed and died in the series, compared to Sasha (at the end of season 2 and during season 3, while they precisely didn’t remember her as a person)…? At times, it felt like maybe a Tim had once worked here, but he had quit on his own, not that… he had died. Maybe I’m a bit blinded by the fact that I experienced season 4 on a weekly basis, whereas I had just listened to season 2 and 3 in one go, but even now, even after compiling, I still feel like something was missing… (For example: Martin refusing to talk about him twice, Jon listing him amongst the dead with Sasha… versus Tim asking Melanie to describe the real Sasha to him and going to lie down, audibly upset and collapsing on himself. I feel like I was missing a bit of emotion in season 4 regarding Tim…? ;_;)

- I’m more neutral than anything about it because it’s conflicting one thing I love and something I don’t like much: Georgie & Melanie! I’m super glad that Georgie was revealed to be bi, and that she got a girlfriend! I’m super glad for a F/F couple! I’m super glad that “Georgie and Melanie as a Thing” is now canon! But I’m personally not too fond of storylines where a romantic involvement happens during or at the beginning of a process of recovery (in such circumstances I’m more invested when it’s a caring but careful friendship), so that one did miss the mark a bit for me. At the same time, I would have been a bit sad if Georgie&Melanie had become a duo without anything romantic ever, so.

- Nnnot too fond of the “terror attack” at the beginning of MAG158, mostly the fact that we heard the guns&the screams and knew it was happening. Overall, I’m not too fond of “random people get terrorised and butchered just because they’re in the way of people targeting the protags”, plus there, the whole concept that it was a cleansing felt… a bit too rough for me. So, really glad that Alex said they toned it down to avoid getting too close to real-life, as opposed to for instance having someone injured stepping in into the Archives to reveal what was happening, because yips, would have been way too far for me indeed ^^”

- Instead of “Oh! That was interesting and very sad and an amazing exploration”, I’m still mostly uncomfortable and disgusted towards the whole storyline of Jon having attacked people.

Disclaimer: I’m not very fond of stories where a twist is that your male protagonist was, in fact, an unreliable narrator doing some very cruel and horrible things while the information we had until then was designed to stir empathy for him. I also felt like MAG141-142 were very disjointed from the first half of season 4 – there had been no hint of Jon having attacked people before, while it was a festival of Jon making references to his “victims” right after it was revealed to us? And, more specifically, I find MAG142 extremely well-executed, the voice acting was fantastic on its own, but it also cemented that the most accurate comparison to what Jon was doing, to me, wasn’t “addiction” or “hunger”: it was sexual assault. It wasn’t that, I’m aware, but it did provoke in me the same visceral discomfort of… following a sexual assaulter’s woes about his own actions, and sobbing that he’s becoming a monster and did something bad when, yeah, dude, you did something bad? Especially with Jess: a woman in the middle of a romantic encounter is preyed upon, is cornered when alone; our male protagonist subjects her to something she didn’t want, hurts her deeply, thanks her for the experience, leaves, leaving her a mess… and her Narrative Purpose was to come ring the alarm about it to his male love interest. We learn that there were three victims, plus Jess and Floyd (whom we witnessed first-hand). The conclusion is that, although influenced, it was all Jon’s actions. It’s made clear that Jon knew that it was happening (although he wanted to cling to the hope that he was manipulated into doing it), that he hid it from the others while claiming that they needed to trust him, and that it only stopped “because he was caught”. And we end the season with cheering for Jon&Martin, with Jon going to save Martin in the Lonely and taking him back, and then spending a few weeks together in Scotland and being romantically involved, after having suffered from manipulation, isolation and circumstances for so long. Jess, Floyd, the three other victims? Don’t matter narratively past the fact that they’ve been hurt and messed up by the protagonist. Are they okay…? Well, it’s not their stories so we don’t know and, as much as we know, the characters don’t care much: Jon spent his time lamenting about what it meant about his (lack of) Humanity, and whether or not it would be rational or earned to do more harm, whether it was fair that he was suffering in trying to stop, whether his own suffering would stop… rather than expressing concern over his victims’ well-being, apologise, I don’t know, doing anything at all to prove that he wasn’t a plain villain. And we didn’t hear their voices anymore. Their purpose was to get hurt by the protag, and… so far, that’s it. And the circumstances have changed, so their suffering probably won’t matter, since everything is now awful for everyone.

There were a few narrative biases (the tape are not “neutral” and chose to not record Jon’s first four victims; Elias-Jonah didn’t even bother mentioning that it had happened in his big monologue, because… it was irrelevant for them – they are not people/entities we’re rooting for), but I feel that story-wise, it was a bit… showed that these victims weren’t supposed to matter much. Overall, they were basically treated as dead meat when it was discovered what Jon had done, as long as he stopped, and it felt extremely violent to me, especially in Jess Tyrell’s case given the circumstances in which Jon had encountered her and how she recalled the story; and it just felt (and keeps feeling) upsetting without any aesthetical pleasure…? I’m really not saying that Protags Should Always Be Pure (Jon… already wasn’t, anyway), and I do get that it was necessary to show what Jon’s choice truly meant, that Beholding was terrifying as a Fear-concept and not a lesser evil compared to the others. It’s something I’m finding interesting in fics, too! But canon-wise, I feel like it could have plainly worked if Floyd had been the only one, and if the exploration had been around what Jon had done to him…? Instead, Jon is a recidivist who knew from the start that he was one, and hid it from everyone until he was caught and stopped. That’s one of the points where I find it a bit hard to ignore that Jon is a male protag, and it’s a bit too reminiscent of IRL injustices (“it’s alright as long as he stops, right)”) – especially given that there’s no judiciary system to handle his actions. Of course, characters do what they can with what they have, amongst many bad options; they don’t have any way to do things perfectly or painlessly, it’s not that kind of story. But still, the “recidivist and hiding it from others” bit made everything discomforting and upsetting to me, rather than something that I was able to find compelling and interesting. That’s… a very human kind of monstrosity, and I just stopped caring much about him or his suffering for the rest of the season…? So a lot of the emotional beat of Jon getting Martin back and them being together just went over my head, because no, Jon is not only “a victim”, he’s also done terrible things to characters who weren’t lucky enough to be protagonists?

As I said, it’s down to personal experiences, squicks, triggers and narrative dislikes; I’m not saying the series or the handling was Problematic or anything like this! And it’s possible that we could hear from Jon’s victims in season 5!

(- A bit related: I do hope that season 5 is not a string of random people getting butchered or suffering while Jon&Martin are strolling through, or Jon Narrating Their Fate As Statements and moaning about how hard it is for him while said people are dying and suffering, because the emotional beat won’t work much for me if it’s the case ;; On the one hand, I usually don’t like apocalyptic stories much; on the other hand, I’m curious about what Jonny can do with the style; but on the third hand, the whole “Jon had secretly hurt people and hid from the others” subplot wasn’t really my brand in the way it was executed, so… I’ll See how it goes.)

- I felt like on its own, it… wasn’t technically a great season for female characters.

I loved Daisy and Melanie’s stories, and Basira’s was heart-breaking in retrospect (though she didn’t get any form of closure or temporary “end” as of now)! For me, they made the most striking storylines in season 4!

But when it comes to the main plot, what would dictate the overall circumstances all characters would suffer from… the main actors were all men. It was a bit “Mm” to me to end up in the situation, in the Panopticon, with four male characters as main players and nobody else – Annabelle wasn’t (explicitly) one, and Helen was apparently there to Watch&Giggle without intervening, Georgie&Melanie didn’t want to get involved, Basira&Daisy mostly made sure that Jon would be able to go rescue Martin, Gertrude has been dead for a while.

Now, it’s a remnant of season 1, which was mostly made of which members and friends of RQ were available to work with in this story (Jon, Martin, Elias are the only main characters who have survived since then, although Melanie had been introduced); if it had been a female character in the place of Peter or Martin… it would have felt iffy too (played and killed off, manipulated/used and needing to be rescued). Furthermore, it makes a lot of sense that, given that this is all Elias-Jonah’s chessboard, he would favour men in general (Victorian asshole who was mostly acquainted with men, if his correspondence is any hint).

At the same time it’s a bit obvious that Annabelle has been more active than she took credit for so far, and has her own plans (why did she so actively help Jonah bring the apocalypse, and why was it necessary for Jon to stay away from Hill Top Road?); plus, Helen is still around, Jonah indirectly pointed out that he can’t see in her corridors; Georgie can’t feel fear, and Melanie might get some immunity (at least from Beholding), so all of them have reasons to get exceedingly relevant in season 5 (if one power gets to “win” in season 5, it’s easy to bank on the Mother of Puppets). So. I didn’t feel like season 4 was super-satisfying in that regard, but also, there is a season 5, and there are enough open doors to think that, when the series will get concluded, it won’t be a gentlemen’s club moving the main plot forwards. So, I’m curious about how season 5 will unfold in that regard.

Fav episodes this season were:

- MAG127, “Remains To Be Seen”: I loved the “voice” of Jonathan Fanshawe, and how delightful it was to hear someone tell Jonah Magnus to fork off? Plus, we got the continuation of Albrecht’s story and his demise a few years after his letter from MAG023; the whole atmosphere was… very eerie and dusty?; I feel like Jon’s description of his “door” (and the “I drown.”) was one of the most striking pictures this season; and it also marked the return of Elias. Jinglebells!Elias, letting us to know that he spends his time gesturing when he talks.

- MAG129, “Submerged”: “When would you start to worry about the rain?” gODS. Very good atmosphere in that one, too, and Jon&Martin’s exchange at the beginning of the episode made us scream so loudly (“iS MARTIN OKAY, LISTEN, HIS VOICE WAS SO OFF, WHAT IS HAPPENING–” “Actually, Alex had the flu” “oh”)

- MAG132, “Entombed”: Resolution of the Saving Daisy mini-arc, and the pay-off was delightful!! Big “OH” moment when it was revealed why Daisy had asked about Jon’s shirt in season 3! Daisy not being a wild monster inside of the Coffin, as we feared, but able to be… herself and expose her doubts and what she didn’t want to be anymore… (Plus, I really felt that indeed, Jon&Daisy had shared something in the Coffin? I loved that small fragile bond that was created out of almost nothing, it felt very genuine and beautiful ;_;)

- MAG145, “Infectious Doubts”: Arthur Nolan’s VA was fantastic, and the exemplification of how Gertrude interacted with avatars was… something, alright. Indeed, one could understand how she managed to live as long as she did. And their discussion about Agnes and the fact that neither of them really knew her keeps breaking my heard for Agnes ;_; (Still crossing fingers that we’re able to hear her in some form in season 5? Given the whole, constant thing about how we only “know” her through male characters and/or people romantically or sexually interested in her…)

- MAG151, “Big Picture”: Simon Fairchild, okay. And Martin having had Enough. Plus, obviously, the… not exactly “answers”, indeed, but the way Simon tried to explain how to look at things and concepts without freezing them into concrete like Robert Smirke had done (given that Martin was the one to be given that talk, I’m really curious about whether he will put this to use in season 5); the shade-throwing about Peter; the reveal that Jon had listened to Martin’s tapes, which was also a “!!” moment.

- MAG157, “Rotten Core”: Tfw you’re The Corruption in season 4 and you don’t get a dedicated statement until near the end of it, but when you do, there is another one shortly afterwards, and it’s. This. About Adelard’s end. It was a very gruesome one, but also so… just plain sad? When it comes to Adelard, still managing to shape him as a character with a mind of steel, with his ultimate resolve and last words. I really came out of it wondering what Gertrude had felt when receiving it, because it… indeed felt like the end of an era/a long-distance partnership. (Also, THE RETURN OF THE ADMIRAL!!! Kitty cuddles and purring!!)

- MAG158, “Panopticon”: Still so impressed that so much had been crammed into this episode, with so many different tones, and with the sense of urgency going crescendo. Plus, you know, big reveals about Gertrude’s death, Elias’s identity, what was Peter and Elias’s deal, and finally, what was hidden in the tunnels.

Things to *squint* about in season 5, or overall questions/pondering:

- … The name of the show still works as of now, though it’s almost “Magnus’s Archive(s)” as things are right now. I suppose that characters will go back to the Institute at some point (if only to reach the Panopticon for some reason), I wonder how long it will take?

- How will the “one episode = one statement” thing fare in season 5…? I kind of hope it’s not a succession of Jon narrating/describing people’s gruesome demises, or live-statements which would make things (SOMEHOW) even worse for them. Technically, Jon had received statements and tapes, so we could explore those first… if he’s in any state to. (Obligatory: will we begin the season with “Recording by The Archive”? Or by Martin, searching for Jon, to reverse the end of season 4?)

- Who is listening through the tapes and why are they manifesting. (I was banking on Web at the end of season 3, nowadays I’m not so sure given how it’s been using them physically, a bit too blatantly.)

- What are the tapes Jon received in MAG160 about…? And were they sent by The Web? Is there another Gertrude tape amongst them? (A message about her “retirement plan”? The “little chat” Gertrude had mentioned in MAG158, which happened after Jonah had taken Elias as a new host and when she realised what was happening? An Adelard-Gertrude conversation if they manage to find The Perfect VA for Adelard? … A Jon-Gertrude conversation for when he began to work at the Institute? Jon had recalled that he had talked with her once or twice – what if it had been recorded because Jon was already relevant for whatever-is-listening-through-the-tapes…?)

- WHAT DOES THE WEB WANT / WHAT DID IT WANT AND GET

- Hey Jon, how is your lighter today (and how many cigarettes have you smoked recently)?

- Hill Top Road trip 2.0, and what the “scar in reality” means (and why Annabelle didn’t want Jon to get involved there… as of season 4, at any rate)

- I remembered about Anya Villette’s statement recently, and namely that bit:

(MAG114, Anya Villette) “I don’t know this place. They said I should come and talk to you. A few people did. People I thought I knew, but they were different. I should know this place, I think. I used to go to the Tate a lot when I lived in London, and I, I passed the building, but… I don’t know you people. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

For me, her statement was clearly Spiral, but the implication of the Institute not being there did grab my interest, because see: Robert Smirke died earlier in the Magnusverse than in our real world – Martin pointed out that he had died the day he had written MAG138’s letter, on February 13th 1867, while the historical Robert Smirke died on April 18th 1867. The difference being that, in the Magnusverse, it was implied that Jonah’s experiments and preparations of The Watcher’s Crown had directly caused Smirke’s death; the Watcher’s Crown attempt which resulted in the sinking of Millbank, and the establishment of the Institute to hide the Panopticon. The main difference between a world “without the Magnus Institute in London” and a world with it was… Jonah’s ritual attempt. It wonder if this is where two realities may have shifted and diverged, in the Magnusverse? We still don’t know much about this “scar in reality” lying at Hill Top Road, and why it’s hidden, or what it could cause…

- Given how Peter wasn’t sure why The Web had never tried to push for its own ritual, was it because the Mother knew that it would fail anyway? Was is something well-known amongst Web agents that it was All or Nothing, or was Jonah a pioneer in that area, and Annabelle (?) decided to lend him her support?

- … Or maybe not at all: I’m curious about other avatars’ stance on/in the new world, if there will be divergences, if most will embrace it, it if it will cause dissatisfaction because they’re not needed as vessels to feed their patrons anymore? Having the time of their lives, or dissatisfied/now useless when it comes to feeding the Fears?

- Elias hinted that Gertrude might have had a backup plan to stop The Dark, if it had turned out that their ritual could succeed – could that help with the whole apocalypse? I’m… not really convinced that the apocalypse can be undone or tuned down, and it’s likely that season 5 ends even more badly than season 4, but we shall see… Reminder that:

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook; we found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… [SIGH] saving the world at the cost of two lives… It… it’s borderline incomprehensible, not because of any code, or cypher – there’s every chance I could read those; just simply because… most of it is… numbers or fragments of sentences that would no doubt mean something to her, but… well, not to me. I have been staring at it for hours, in the hope something from it would just… come to me.

Jon hadn’t managed to decipher her notebook as of season 4, I wonder if it could get relevant again.

- How many episodes before we hear Elias again.

- I’m not sure how Elias is supposed to get “on top” of this, since Jon had been the one to “open the door” to the Fears? Why is Elias so confident that he will never die? Given how he had mentioned “an eternity of terror and suffering” for all at the beginning, I wonder if people might not become “immortal” in the new landscape – in the sense of not being able to die at all, of The End being a fear but also out of reach, putting people in a state worse than death? Still, curious about why Elias was so sure that he would get an edge and not share the same fate as everyone else, since I doubt the Fears could feel anything, to say nothing of gratefulness? So, what protection does he have?

- How will Elias die/be neutralised, and by whom or what? (I kind of randomly hope that Georgie will do something? I always found it a bit interesting that she was introduced as a talking character right after Elias had been revealed to be the villain… while Georgie is connected with The End and knows the words that killed her friend.)

- Will we learn a bit more about “Emma”, Gertrude’s third assistant named by Eric?

- Are we absolutely done with Agnes’s story, and/or is there a tiny chance that we could hear her voice in some way…?

- What happened with Salesa, and what was the broken lens he retrieved supposed to do?

- Was Eduardo Acosta’s statement relevant, for Tim to interrupt Martin in MAG104.

- Will Jon’s two missing ribs become relevant again? Did Jon leave his rib at the Institute, or did he take it with him in Scotland? (Jon, putting it on the fireplace lintel as soon as he unpacked–)

- There is still the matter of Extinction and whether it was a partial bust (that is now irrelevant) or if it will come into play after all; perhaps we’ll meet or witness the creation of one of its first avatars or something. (Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if Gertrude hadn’t been one for the Fears, given how she had pointed out that she was Desolation To The Desolation…)

- Martin spent a lot of time studying the Fears in season 4, to the point that he received Simon’s guidance about how to perceive them… so I wonder if that will be relevant, too, since he wasn’t able to use that knowledge at all in the season finale. It really felt like he was growing as a main character, until he was cast into The Lonely and took a backseat so… I’m expecting for it to come into fruition? Jon had the rigid knowledge of the Fears, and the knowledge given by Beholding, but Martin was taught to get the feeling of them, and it might be more efficient now that they’re here?

- How will the connection between Martin and The Lonely manifest? Martin had to suffer Peter’s influence for almost a year, has been shown to be able to use powers in front of Georgie, and still wanted to isolate himself a bit in MAG160, so I doubt that The Lonely will let him go this easily.

- Will Martin’s studies over the entities help in some way? Will The Extinction (and other aspects of the Big Blob Of Terror that weren’t contained in Jonah’s invocation) be relevant?

- Was MAG158 the “true end” of Daisy, and will it lead to her being absolutely unhinged and lost in season 5…? It felt like it when it happened, but the way Jon&Martin mentioned her in MAG160, it didn’t really feel like she was lost-lost – but that card has already been played with the Coffin…

- I found the season incredibly harsh on Basira overall: she tried to handle the situation while Martin was jumping ship and Melanie was getting more erratic; she got manipulated by Elias multiple times; she wasn’t even the one to rescue Daisy from the Coffin; she hadn’t noticed that Jon had been attacking people behind her back; she “lost” Daisy emotionally a bit further by initially refusing to respect her wish of not going back to The Hunt; she ultimately lost Daisy a second time… Except for punching Elias, she didn’t really get any “win”? I mean, everyone’s lives suck, but it feels that comparatively, Basira got the worst of it (Jon managed to save people, to elope with Martin; Melanie managed to flee from the Institute and has Georgie with her; Martin was finally found and cared for… but Basira?). I wonder how it will come out in season 5, and if she will manage to get… something. Anything. There were a few red threads (ha) thrown around with the fact that she was trying to track Annabelle, we’ll see if it leads somewhere… (If anyone was desperate for control, it was Basira in season 4…)

- On that note: is Basira still vitally “tied” to the Institute, even in this new world paradigm?

- I’m really curious about how Melanie will be handling things in season 5 and how she will fare in the new world, given how she cut herself off from Beholding, which is still supposed to be reigning a bit over the other Fears in this apocalypse. And she mentioned being “not scared anymore”, so…

- Same thing with Fear-less Georgie.

- I’m curious about Jon’s state at the beginning of season 5: absolutely collapsed on himself? Barely responsive? Already centred back while also still depressed? Already with a plan? Stuck for a while before Martin&him begin to move for one reason or another (trying to find Basira, Georgie, Melanie, or getting a clue regarding what to do?).

Bits about the trailer/teaser for season 5:

- I like how it was casually introduced that life in Scotland hadn’t been that idyllic, since they had run out of tea even before the apocalypse. Englishmen in Scotland, raiding the tiny village shop until it was out of tea. Amazing.

- … Martin still not getting Jon’s sense of humour with the “knock-knock” joke.

- And it meant A LOT that JON was WILLING to make a knock-knock joke, given his relationship to doors and especially Mr Spider’s!! ;w;

(- This is how Web!Martin can still win, given the parallel.)

- … Aouch for Martin suggesting coffee instead. Jon doesn’t drink much of it, according to season 2.

- Not!Tea is canonically ~something that isn’t tea~, and I’m… mostly D: about the fact that Martin was convinced that it was tea. He was thinking that he had brewed and prepared this thing – did he really? – and sounded absolutely certain that it was plain ordinary tea he was holding… so the world is really messing with people’s heads and perceptions, uh…

- And it makes me worried because anyone else wouldn’t have had Jon’s “advantage” of seeing through deceptions and fears, and warning someone about it. Quite honestly, I’m not really worried about Jon&Martin (bad stuff will happen to them, but we will hear their thoughts about it); my worry is mostly about regular people, because again, I don’t like random innocents being canon fodder around protagonists for the sake of their own progress or because of their actions. (And yes, I’m aware that s5 will probably be a lot of this, especially given the short comment about the village orz)

(- It’s possible that the village would be the theme of the first “statement” if Jon begins to narrate people’s fates, I guess…)

- Though at the same time. Jon didn’t sound afraid at the prospect of the not!tea potentially attacking Martin, which should have been a concern?

- Things are “unchanged” according to Jon, who isn’t sure that things can change again… and it’s aouch given his laments over things changing during all of season 4 (+ Martin “not big on change” according to Tim). Jon isn’t sure things can change again, I’m really not sure either, so… either they can’t, either they do, either people keep changing too…?

- Things have changed, and Elias was apparently kind of right that Jon… was made to live in/feed from this world.

- … The way Jon described the rolling wave of knowledge was directly echoing how he had portrayed his inner door in MAG127 so: now, the door has opened and the entire ocean is indeed out there, uh…

- But Jon is not “drowning”? We’re still following the same logic as at the end of season 4: that something feeling right doesn’t mean that it is right. It is actually a bit reassuring, since… Jon kept his morals? Is trying not to know, not to use his powers? Saying that he wished it didn’t feel right means a lot: that it does, but that he still would prefer otherwise. Jon is not a creature of pure instinct but someone able to decide what is right and wrong, still fighting against urges and new influences. That’s weirdly optimistic, in this situation?

- Jon was going for bitterness and “despair”, but it was also contradicted by what he was doing: if he had truly fallen into despair, he wouldn’t be this cautious about his powers and the knowledge, he might “stop feeling guilty” like Helen. He isn’t. He’s still holding on, which means that, indeed, there is still some hope or something to salvage – or at least, the idea of not making things worse.

- Same with his comment about the fact that “comfort” doesn’t exist anymore: he… immediately proved that, no, yes, it does, with the hug (?) he shared with Martin.

- Jon&Martin still together as of now (which, honestly, I wasn’t expecting! I was bracing myself for them to already be separated somehow), still in Scotland given their comments. Will they stay in the safehouse for a while, or will they quickly get on the move?

- Martin’s “You know I’m here for you” sounds to me like we’ll end up with a situation in which it isn’t the case anymore – because Martin would have to let Jon down, would be dead, or because Jon is not even there anymore.

- Tape recorders still around, we don’t know what they are, but they’re still listening in. Despite Jon’s claim that “it’s over”, it’s not and there are still Tales To Be Told, even after the end (?) of the world.

Anyway, expectations are overall “they’re going to die (or not even be granted that, and they’ll be condemned to an eternity of worse)”, but ;___; It feels weird to think that I’m already going to say goodbye to that bunch of idiots in 40 episodes ;_;

MAG161’s title is surprisingly a bit obtuse for me, and I wonder if it will still be possible to try to “guess” an entity through announced titles this season (now that all the Fears are there and acknowledged as part of a whole) – Buried stuff??? As a season opener, I would say, either Annabelle stuff, either Jon&Martin; Aaangst is a given; but after that…

#the magnus archives #tma season 4 #mag160 #long post/#... like v long even for my usual reviews >>#tma liveblog #tma spoilers #also contains a few bits about season 5's trailer teaser

21 notes · View notes

axwalker · 5 years

Text

The Trade: 2

Synopsis: This is an AU where the monarchy in Cordonia doesn’t longer exist and it has been replaced by a republic. It’s set in the final stages of the presidential race with Senator Liam Rhys competing against Fidelya Governor Godfrey Karlington. To assure his son’s victory, Constantine makes an arrangement behind his back for him to marry the rich ambassador’s daughter: Alexis O’Brien. Due to her father’s threats, she has no other option that seduce Liam and make him fall in love with her. But what does she really feel?

Masterlist: HERE

Warnings: I love drama and chaos so this will probably get very dark. None for this chapter though.

Please note that this is my first series and English is not my mother tongue. I appreciate all comments and feedback.

@pug-bitch

Pairing: DrakexMC, LiamxMC

Drake stepped out of the shower and turned on the TV. A towel around his waist, he sat on the edge of the bed and switched the channel.

“Good night everyone, I’m Anna de Luca and today in Politics weekly, we’re going to talk about the lasts updates of the presidential race with political expert Donnie Brine. Hi Donnie, we’re happy to have you on the show tonight. Tell us, what do you think of our candidates so far?”

“Hi Anna! Happy to be here. Well, we all already know Governor Godfrey Karlington and his conservative politics. He represents the old ways and rules Fydelia with an iron fist. Personally, I think the most interesting candidate today is the young and charismatic Liam Rhys, a new face in the political map, but well ahead in the polls.”

Drake arched his brows and laughed to himself. -New face?- Liam was a great candidate, the best one, but he was certainly no newcomer.

“New face?” Ana asked echoing Drake's thoughts. “Please, Donnie. We all know Liam is the son of ex-president Constantine Rhys and that he comes from old Cordonian nobility. He’s hardly a ‘new face’. However, I’ll agree that his rapid popularity growth is worthy of attention. Now, as a political expert, tell us: Is it true that he intends to surround himself with young politicians?

“Apparently this is all true, Anna. He’ll form his cabinet with his closest political allies, otherwise known as the “Brat-pack” of Cordonian politics, all being sons and daughters of either rich men and government members as Miss Hanna Lee or old noble houses as Sir Rashad Domvallier.”

“Can you give us a sneak peek of his cabinet?”

“Of course, Anna! I’ll give you the name of those we are sure he’ll appoint if he wins:

For Secretary of Treasury, he’ll appoint Bertrand Beaumont, he was Governor of Ramsford and his family have had ties with the Rhys for hundreds of years.

In Education, he’ll name Hanna Lee. Miss Lee is the youngest person that has ever directed Cordonian University. She has won world recognition for her research in educational methods.

In Foreign Affairs we’ll have Kiara Theron, the also daughter of the prominent judge Hakim Castelraillan, was our representative in the UN for two consecutive years and speaks 6 languages fluently.

The Secretary of Defense will be Capitain Olivia Nevrakis, a decorated top army officer.

Rashad Domvallier will be the head of the Department of Commerce, his bold business deals have brought a lot of money to the most prominent companies in Cordonia

And for some experience he will appoint Ex Supreme Court Juge Hakim Theron as the Attorney General and Landon Ebrim as the Minister of Agriculture” Donnie concluded.

“Well, all in all, not a lot of surprises, Donnie. As you said it before, it will be an incredibly young cabinet. Cordonian people should be happy that they’ll have Senator Ebrim and ex-judge Theron to babysit. Now two questions remain. Do we know who he’ll name as his chief of staff? And, more importantly: Who’s going to be his number two? Do you think he’s going to run with his brother, Valtorian Senator Leo Rhys? Or is that too much nepotism even for Cordonian standards?”

“To answer your first question, rumor has it that he will name his assistant, the man that’s been with him his whole career: Mr. Drake Walker. It is an important position, let’s hope that Mr. Walker is qualified for it, after all, he is not a real politician. As for the second question, his number two is the big enigma here, Anna. We know that a double Rhys ticket is the ex-president’s dream, but we are also aware of the Senator’s lifestyle, and I don’t think that the public opinion would approve of him running with the young candidate”.

Drake turned off the TV. Fucking vultures, they would love to see Liam fail just so they could feast in his loss. They didn’t care that he was the best candidate, much more than that fossil Karlington would ever be.

He opened the curtains and looked through the window, it was a sunny Sunday, his day off. He was wondering what to do when his phone rang. He saw Max’s photo on the screen.

Preparing for over the top excitement in three, two, one… he picks up the call.

“Draaaaake! You answered!”

“Yes, Maxwell. What do you want?” He sighed “Wait, is Sunday morning so I assume you need me to go get you at the beach because you woke up naked, surrounded by peacocks, with a horrible hangover and no memory of what happened last night. Am I right?”

“Heyyy Drake! Not all parties end up like last week’s party!” Max laughed

Drake rolled his eyes. “No, you’re right, sometimes you wake up naked in a garden surrounded by pigeons, or with a hippo tattoo you have no recollection getting.”

“Actually, I just wanted to invite you to lunch to thank you for picking me up last week, buddy,” Maxwell replied.

Drake sighed in exasperation “I’ve told you one hundred times NOT to call me buddy. And lunch is the minimum you can offer me after I saw you naked. I’m scarred for life, I hope you know.”

“He! You’re just jealous of my attributes, and jealousy is not a good color on you, Drake. You pick me up at 12…ish?

Drake growled at the phone “I’m starving; I’ll be there at 12 sharp.”

When they arrived at the restaurant at 2 pm, it was so crowded the waitress had to sit them at the bar.

As Maxwell stepped outside to take a mysterious call, Drake immediately noticed a beautiful girl in the stool next to Max’s. She was a tall brunette, with huge brown eyes and a beautiful smile. The short red dress she was wearing uncovered her long, tanned legs and hugged her curves in a way that made Drake blush.

Slightly disappointed, Drake noticed that she was talking to a guy in a blue suit. When he was about to move on and order another whiskey, he heard a very familiar voice:

“Sooo, as I was telling you, my family is very rich, they own the Sartorini brand, a very famous, very luxurious, very expensive brand of men shoes, among a lot, and I mean a lot of other things. You have heard of my family of course.”

Drake rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” He heard her answer, and he couldn’t help but notice a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “The problem… uh…Tariq was it?” Drake was smiling to himself “Is that I have it as a personal rule not to date very smugly, arrogant, conceited men. It’s a pity really, I can tell we really could’ve hit it off”

“Are you making fun of me bitch?” Drake was ready to intervene when he heard her answer.

“Wow, it took you 30 seconds to go from charming prince to creepy pig, a real record. Now if you excuse me, I’m really hungry. Have a good afternoon.”

Tariq got closer to her but as he was facing the girl and not him Drake couldn’t see what he was doing. Unfortunately for Tariq, he found out soon enough.

“I suggest you take off your filthy hand of my thigh right now if you don’t want to end up severely injured!” She seethed.

Tariq took a look at her slender figure and laughed. “By who? You?”

“No, me” Drake had decided to intervene “You heard the lady, Tariq. Get out of here.” Tariq’s face went white as he apologized.

“Oh! I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean to disturb her, I didn’t know you were with her… I…I... I’m leaving..” He sighed, visibly scared, leaving the bar immediately.

The girl puffed “Typical creep, he doesn’t even apologize to me, but to the man with a savior complex, who no one asked help from in the first place”

Drake arched his brows: “Sorry lady, I know Tariq, and he never would have left you alone. Anyway, have a nice lunch.”

The girl bit her lip feeling guilty, he was only trying to help her after all, and not that it mattered but he was very handsome.

“No, I’m sorry, you were only trying to be a good person”. She moved to the stool next to him while Max was still talking on the phone. “Let me buy you a…what are you drinking?”

Maxwell arrived just in time to hear the last sentence: “Whiskey! It is like he doesn’t know any other beverages. Can you believe that he has never tasted a Cosmopolitan??!!” He said grinning. “I’m Maxwell Beaumont, he’s Drake Walker and you’re…”

“I’m Elena, Elena Ortiz. Nice to meet you both” She grinned, and Drake couldn’t help but noticed what a beautiful smile she had. It felt like she’d be able to light an entire room with it. “And don’t worry Drake, me too I looove whiskey” That time she joined a little wink to the smile and Drake felt like he was actually melting.

“Hi… Magda” She said reading the waitress's name in her uniform “Can you bring us three glasses of Knob Creek, please?”

“Where are you from? You have a bit of an accent” He heard Maxwell ask her

“I’m American Maxwell, from New York”

“Please, call me Max. Is how all of my friends call me and I can tell right now that you and I are going to be great friends”

“How long are you staying in Cordonia, Elena?” Drake hoped she couldn’t hear the expectation in his voice.

“Oh… for now I’m just visiting, I haven’t thought very far ahead”

“Oh, I would looove to show you the highlights of our beautiful country,” Max said, smiling with excitement. “But I have a date tonight, so I can’t. Drake here, on the other hand, is a free as a bird today, aren’t you Drake?”

Since he met him as kids Drake had imagined one thousand different ways to kill the ever-annoying Maxwell, but at that moment, he could’ve kissed him.

“Actually, yes I am. I could show you some spots in the city that aren’t in the guides. What do you say?”

Elena grinned back at him.

“Maybe … where are you taking me?”

“You’ll have to trust me Elena, but I’m thinking you’ll like it”

“Trust you? I’ve known you for like a minute and a half. What if you murder me and hide my body on your baseman forever?

“Heh, that… or I’ll show one of Cordonian’s most beautiful sights while we drink some good whiskey. I guess you’re gonna have to take your chances.” Drake didn’t know why he wanted so desperately her to trust him.

Elena looked deeply into his eyes. She didn’t know why she felt so safe around him, maybe it was his gaze, intense and bright; looking at her longingly now.

“Let’s go!”

Drake took Elena to a beautiful beach next to Cordonia city; he showed her a little cove he visited when he needed some time far away from all the politics and plots.

“Drake! This is beautiful. It makes me think of my favorite spot in New York, next to Orchard beach. I go there whenever I’m feeling that I need some time for myself or to think about something.” She let out a small sigh.“Sometimes life can be too complicated”

Drake could hardly speak, completely lost just by looking at her. The gestures her hands make when she spoke, the elegant curve of her neck, her beautiful smile, and overall those big brown eyes, almost black. They were shinning now, enjoying the view, but there was something else in them; something unreadable…Pain, maybe?

“Do you feel like that often?” Drake asked, avid to know everything about the beautiful stranger next to him.

“You have no idea.”’ She turned to look at him. “But enough about that. What’s your story?” She gave him a flirty smile that almost made Drake’s heart stop. “Do you bring here all your dates?”

Drake gave her a cocky smile. “Ha, good to know this is a date” She blushed in the most adorable way. “In fact, if you have to know you’re the second person I bring here, and the first one was my sister,” he said hoping she didn’t ask a lot of questions about Savannah.

“Oh, well is an amazing spot, but I was promised some excellent whiskey and I’m not seeing any.” He grinned taking out a little silver flask from his pocket and handing it to her.

“You’ll never taste anything better.” When he watched her take a sip and then lick her lips, it took everything he had not to kiss her, but for some strange reason, for once he didn’t want to go to fast with a woman. “So?”

“It’s not Knob Creek but is not bad.” She moved closer to him, hoping he would make a move, it was her last day of freedom and she really liked him, much more than she should. Drake was looking directly at her with his chocolate eyes, and a sexy smile in the corner of his mouth.

“What’s in your mind? You didn’t stop talking all the way here and now you’re very quiet”

Drake was a stranger, she would probably never see him again. However, his strong, steady presence invited her to confide in him. Without a second thought, she blurted out, “I was thinking that I can’t be the person I want to be.”

“What do you mean you can’t? What old are you, like 24? You can do whatever you want Elena.”

She shifted her position to watch the ocean. “25, and no, I can’t. Forget it, you’ll never understand”

He gave her a small smile, he definitely understood. “You mean that you feel trapped in a life that you don’t know how to live anymore but you have no fucking idea how to get out of?”

She looked surprised “That’s exactly it. You have the same feeling?”

He sighed looking at her with a bit of regret in his eyes. “I’m in a job that I hate, very far away from the life I pictured for myself when I was a kid”

She took his hand, feeling an immediate spike of electricity run through her arms “If you hate your job that much, why don’t you just resign?”

“I hope it was that easy, but it’s not. My boss is also my best friend and I owe him and his family everything. He’s asked for my help and I can’t deny it… so here we are”

“Wow, you make it look like the mafia, Drake. Maybe I should be scared” She said teasing him and he smiled.

“Well, actually it’s not that different from the mafia, that I can tell you. But maybe after this job is finished, I’ll be free to do what I want”

“And that is…?” He could see she was genuinely curious.

Drake took a long swig of whiskey. “It seems like a ridiculous child’s dream when I say it out loud, but I love horses and animals in general. I would’ve like to be a veterinarian, instead of going to business school”

“Well maybe someday… you’re young too, there is no reason you can’t make that happen”

“Now that you made me spill my guts, you have to tell me something about you. Why do you feel trapped?”

She also drank before answering. She didn’t want to ruin the mood by confessing the truth.

“Let’s say that I’m in the middle of a very awful business deal, that I can’t undo”

He looked at her quizzically. “What the hell does that mean Elena? Now is you who’s talking like a mob family member”

“He! If only…” She moved even closer to him, boldened by the whiskey and the confidences they’d shared. “But that’s enough of sad little secrets”.

Elena gave him a very inviting smile and he suddenly realized that she was impossibly close to him. He could smell her scent, delicate and fruity. Her brown silky hair had a cherry fragrance, that was inebriating him much more than the whiskey he had drunk. When Drake saw her dark eyes looking directly at him, he didn’t doubt one more second. He took her face with both his hands and kissed her. She had never been kissed like that, it was sweet and passionate at the same time. With longing and tenderness, desire and reverence all at once. Elena could smell his scent, something woody and musky and it drove her crazy. His tongue was entering her mouth looking for hers, delicately at first then more and more passionately, until they had to come out for air. He didn’t need much because almost instantly he was kissing the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, and there he was ravaging her mouth again.

Suddenly, the spell was broken. They were brought back to reality by the incessant ringing of her phone.

“Sorry Drake, I really have to get this” He saw her walking away a few meters and talk to someone, visibly affected by it. Her features hardened, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but she seemed different, sadder, gloomier. Drake saw she had ended the call but remained in place, so he went to her.

“What was that about Elena?” He asked softly stroking her left cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it’s just that I’m gonna have to go back to real life tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to.”

“I thought you were in Cordonia indefinitely …”

“It’s complicated. Can you bring me back to the restaurant? A car will pick me up there.”

“I can take you to wherever you’re staying, Elena”

She gave him a rueful smile that tugged his heart. “I rather not, thank you.”

“This is the last time we will see each other. Isn’t it?” Drake asked, sadly.

Elena could feel the tears. Tears of sadness for everything she’d always wanted but never would have. Tears of joy for the moment she just shared with Drake, as briefed as it was. Tears of regret for leaving him despite all the possibilities that he held.

“Yes …it was the last time”

#drake walker #drakexmc #axwalker writes #tw noncon #the trade

66 notes · View notes

ends-of-the-wayward-storm · 5 years

Photo

KH OC Week 2019--Day 2: New World

A Digital Frontier--Part 2

[All right I know I did Tron last time but this is basically my motivation to do the next part. But anyway, this is my first time digitally coloring a drawing of mine so don't be rude (also ignore the hands). I have been thinking about coloring it digitally so I just thought "might as well do it for KH OC Week." And here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this! @khoc-week.]

(Part 1) (AO3 version)

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

She had to have been here for about a couple hours. Maybe a little more. And in that time there was no sign of Heartless and no sign of that man in white. But there was still those black guards roaming around.

A pair of the robot-like ones was coming her way, and she quickly slipped into a crowd that had just crossed the street. She stole a glance over her shoulder as the group began to shrink, and the guards stopped as they looked in her direction.

Stifling a gasp, she faced forward and strained to listen over the voices for any sign of them approaching her.

A few seconds of silence.

Then a couple more.

And still they remained silent.

Don’t spot me don’t spot me. . . .

“Keep searching,” one of the guards ultimately said before continuing down the sidewalk.

Phew.

She waited a couple seconds before politely making her way to the front of the group. Briskly, she began to put distance between herself and the group. A quick glance over her shoulder told her the guards still hadn’t noticed her.

So far so good.

Facing forward, she replayed her encounter with the guy in white.

What was his name again? It started with a “T. . . .”

Oh right. Tron.

She remembered he had said he was protecting the city from CLU’s guard. So that meant CLU was probably this world’s darkness.

Which meant he might have control over Heartless.

Which meant Tron might need her help.

Okay, so I just need to find him and help him stop CLU.

But where do I even start looking?

Something caught her eye, and she looked up at a digital version of a poster.

A wanted poster.

And apparently she was on it.

“That’s not good.”

A Program walking by also spotted the poster showing Erica from all angles. A few others murmured amongst themselves upon seeing it as well, and the Program glanced to Erica.

“Hey isn’t that. . . .”

“Hmm?” Erica faced him.

“That is you.”

Another one of the robotic guards spotted Erica, and he looked between her and the poster.

Uh oh, Erica thought.

“Halt, Program!”

Instantly Erica darted off.

“ ‘Scuse me! Sorry! Coming through!” she said.

People instantly moved out of the guard’s way as he pursued Erica, and she was quick to disappear after a sharp left.

He just called me a program again. But, why?

“Halt by order of CLU!” he shouted.

A scream from up ahead caused multiple exclamations to flare up. People were beginning to flee as creatures with yellow eyes appeared in the streets, and they set their sights on the Programs.

“Oh no.” Erica immediately summoned Starlight. “Incoming!”

Her Keyblade glowed an icy blue before she hurled it at a few Shadows, destroying them instantly and startling a few Programs in the process.

“Thank you,” a female with a boyish hair style quavered. “But, how did you do that?”

Erica positioned herself between her and the Heartless. “I can’t explain right now. Go get somewhere safe! I can handle them!”

The Program looked between Erica and the Heartless.

“Halt, by order of CLU!” an incoming guard ordered, who was now accompanied by backup.

“I-I’ll get help!” the Program stammered before rushing off along with everyone else.

Erica reaffirmed her stance as the guards closed in on her. A neon yellow-ish green Heartless swatted at her, and she parried the blow before whacking it into its own. She summoned a barrier as a large neon purple Heartless fired at her. The guards split their attention between her and the Heartless, but they pulled back just as flares of light burst forth from the barrier.

An orange diamond-shaped Heartless fired at her several times, and Erica narrowly avoided the shots. She blocked an incoming staff and kicked the guard back before darting away from another staff, and she felt her hair stand on end.

“Wind!”

The guards and the smaller Heartless were thrown back, the latter releasing hearts upon being destroyed. Taking aim at the guards, the purple Heartless fired multiple times, and they were quick to flee. A green cannon aimed for Erica, and she coated her Keyblade with lightning before throwing it, sending its cannonball hurtling right for the purple Heartless.

Something sliced her shoulder, pulling a yelp out of her. She locked onto a guard catching his disc, but before she could retaliate, the purple Heartless began to swing its arms madly at her. Erica barely raised a barrier in time, wincing with every hit it sustained as the green cannon joined in on the barrage. But nonetheless, the light flares warded the Heartless back.

“Thunder!”

Powerful bolts of lightning destroyed all the remaining Heartless, and one cut it close to one of the guards. Erica ducked away from an incoming disc before blocking a staff. Blows were blocked and exchanged, and slowly, Programs began to peer into the scene.

“Hey those things are gone.”

“She’s gonna get derezzed!”

“Where’s the Renegade when you need him?”

Derezzed? And who’s the Renegade? Erica wondered.

Footsteps came running from behind her, and she darted out of the way just in time to see one of the guards electrocute and knock out his own. But before he could begin to process what had happened, Erica smacked the guard’s head with her Keyblade, rendering him unconscious.

Hearing something whiz toward her, she raised her Keyblade to block an orange disc. But moments later a guard rammed his electrified staff into her chest.

Programs gasped as she was knocked onto her back, and an air of silence shrouded over the area as Erica remained still.

But she wasn’t down for long.

Erica struggled to push herself up, and she barely managed to cast Reflect in time to block an orange disc again.

A guard charged forward, and with a loud grunt Erica shot to her feet and locked weapons with him. She grimaced as he pushed against her, and he gradually began to overpower her. And the slight lightheadedness wasn’t helping, either.

Thinking fast, Erica slammed her heel onto the guard’s foot before darting behind him, just barely avoiding an incoming kick meant for her. With one whack the guard was out, and she whirled around to face the last guard.

He threw his disc at her that she deflected, leading the duo to ultimately switch places. Erica readjusted her grip on Starlight as she assumed her stance.

Silence hung thick in the air as everyone held their breath.

The guard intensely watched her, and Erica narrowed her eyes.

Abruptly the two charged for each other as the guard whipped out a baton of sorts. At the last second a blade of light emitted from it, and Keyblade and sword clanged against each other. The guard easily began to overpower her, and Erica found her knees beginning to bend.

Come on! You can do this!

She tapped into any strength she could muster to push back, but the shock from before still lingered. She couldn’t fight back no matter how much she willed herself to.

Smack!

The guard suddenly froze, and Erica stepped back with a breath as he dropped to the ground. Standing over him with her own baton was the Program that had gone to get help.

“Thank you,” Erica said, relieved. She casted a quick cure spell over herself before dismissing her Keyblade. Some of her energy was restored, but she could still feel the tiniest bit of the shock in her muscles. And her chest was sore. “Is everyone okay?”

“You just took down CLU’s guard!” a Program said. “And those things!”

“What were they?” another asked.

“They’re called Heartless,” Erica replied.

“Are they a virus?” the armed female asked.

“Not exactly, but they’re still dangerous.”

The armed Program looked to the fallen guards. “You should run before they wake up.”

“Oh, right. Everyone be careful, okay?”

“That’s gonna be impossible with CLU in the city,” a Program remarked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll try to help stop CLU in any way I can.”

“Wait. Y-you’re with Tron?”

“Um, kind of? I’m actually trying to—”

A few of the guards began to stir, making the Programs step back in fear.

“Hurry before they wake up!” the armed female urged.

“Right. You guys should run, too,” Erica said.

All of the Programs were quick to flee, but the one that had knocked out the last guard lingered.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Erica replied.

Erica and the Program went their separate ways, and she risked a glance over her shoulder before hiding behind a corner.

I really need to find Tron before the Heartless start multiplying.

~ ~ ~

Somewhere far from Argon in a hidden area of the Grid, someone was watching over everything.

He had witnessed a “Program” come to his successor’s aid with no hesitation. He had also just witnessed her actions of defending the people and stopping the so-called viruses. He wondered if they were remnants from that hooded virus that had appeared once. It was doubtful, but he couldn’t be sure just yet.

For now, however, he would continue to observe.

[Yeah this one was getting long, too, so I split it into a third part that will eventually lead to more parts. I'll probably get around to them at some point.]

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

(Part 1) (AO3 version)

#I think I did okay with the circuitry.#I asked Misstoodles for help and I used some references so there's that.#This is quite the trip for Erica.#Kingdom Hearts #Tron: Uprising #Tron #Erica #Key Kid #Beck #The Renegade #CLU #Remember that girl in the beginning of 'Grounded'?#Yeah she's in this.#KH OC Week #KH OC Week 2019 #TRON LIVES.

15 notes · View notes

gattius-starfrost · 5 years

Text

Weekend of Indulgences

The week had been long, busy, and irritating in Starfrost Clinic. Success was one thing, but Gattius quickly became overwhelmed by the number of new clients coming through the door. He was only one elf, after all. Managing financing, scheduling, and the actual practice of medicine all on his own! Not to mention his duties to take care of Tannis when Syrielle was off at the Sun Spire doing… whatever it was those Magisters did on a daily basis! He debated turning some patients away… but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Helping people was his goal in all this, after all. No, less patients wasn’t the answer. More staff… that made more sense. It came with its own set of challenges, though - Syrielle had just hired a few new guards for the Manor. More hires so soon after that would stretch their coffers thinner. House Starfrost was well off… but not that well off!

It didn’t matter, in the moment. The clinic was closed, and would be for the weekend. Gattius had finished his paperwork - records and ledgers, both - rather late into the night. All the same, he needed to decompress. He needed some time to himself, away from work, from Tannis’ constant needs, away from the busy Manor…

He needed a fishing trip.

Syrielle, of course, was all for it. The thought alone of how supportive and loving she could be at times brought a smile to his face. She came home early from her business to tend to Tannis and allow Gattius to promptly finish his work and head out for some evening fishing; the start of his weekend away! He packed his fishing supplies and overnight gear - the latter of which consisted of a shoddy tent, hammock, rations, and about half a crate of cigarettes - and set off south to start his mini-vacation!

The Elrendar River babbled on as it always had, setting a soothing soundtrack to his weekend of relaxation. Gattius loved fishing here; his hidden fishing hole, just above the falls. He cozied up against a small angled rock facing, which served faithfully as his fishing chair for years now, and cast out his line. He’d always had some success at this spot. Some days more than others, it all depended on the season. But he expected he’d pull a fish or two before bed. Ten or so the next day. The rations were really just in case, honestly - he intended to be well fed through the weekend by the rod alone!

Gattius smoked. A lot. He’d cut down a bit, between his time in the clinic, and interacting with Tannis. Neither were suitable environments for such a habit. He’d sneak out for breaks every now and again, but those had become few and far between with how busy he’d been lately. But out here, alone, he indulged himself. The taste, the feel, it relaxed him all the more!

His ear flickered, as he felt a nibble at his line. Then another. He cast his golden eyes to the water’s surface, watchfully. A firm tug caused his rod to bow ever-so-slightly. He responded in kind by jerking up quickly to try and snag the fish!--- but it got away! He exhaled a smoke-filled sigh, as he reeled in his line to cast it once more. It seemed he was a bit out of practice.

His line was back in the water before too long. He lit up another cigarette… his fourth now? Or fifth? He’d lost count. It didn’t matter, though - he was happy enough to indulge in his old vice, freely. It seemed like a good weekend to indulge, anyway. In old habits, old hobbies… time to cut loose and enjoy himself!

Gattius’ ear flickered again… but this time, it had nothing to do with his line. He heard something. Felt something. The evening Eversong breeze grew somehow cold, heralding an uneasy feeling that gripped him at his core. He sat up, eyes wide and alert, as he looked around for something - anything - out of place. It was quiet. Nothing but him, the trees, and the calmly babbling river bend stirred here, at this hour. He relaxed a bit, as he ashed his cigarette.

“... Lad…?”

He heard a whisper on the winds; quiet, but as clear as his own voice. He recognized it… and yet it sounded foreign. Distorted. He leapt up from his seat, hands glowing with radiant Light energy as he looked around once more.

“Who’s there?” he demanded!

“Easy… relax, lad…” the whisper came again. “Don’t need yeh slashin’ m’throat again…”

Gattius gasped, as a shadowy figure emerged from behind a tree before him. He scowled, hands clenching to fists… and yet his feet kept still. He’d seen this figure before… in the manor. The ren’dorei infiltrator! He was stunned-- didn’t he kill him? No, he’d vanished… was it an illusion? Was this an illusion, too? His mind was bombarded with questions as his eyes kept affixed to the elven figure.

“Who… who are you?” he demanded again. “What do you want?”

“Thinkin’ I’ll keep m’distance this time, lad.” the figure replied, smirking. “Yeh’ve gotten jumpy on me. Last time I tried gettin’ close, well… lucky slash, lad.”

The figure pulled his collar down a bit, as he brushed the darkened, pallid skin on his neck - no scar, no sign of a cut.

“It’s me, lad! It’s Alteris. Was try’na tell yeh in yer study, there, but…” he shrugged, words fading to a simple, familiar chuckle.

“Kodo-shit!” Gattius shot back! “Alteris is dead! This is a trick!”

The Blood Elf’s hands thrummed with holy power, as his golden eyes flared. He’d heard this before, fallen for such tricks in the past. Not again! In lieu of a weapon, the fishing rod in his hand illuminated with a fiery glow. An extension of Gattius’ divine power! He pointed it at the shadowy figure, scowling!

“Leave now! This is your only chance!”

There was silence for a moment, as the two stared each other down. Gattius, staring in anger and determination. The void elf… staring in disbelief. Awestruck! He blinked his eyes. Then again… the his lips curled to a grin. It started low… then became more pronounced as his shoulders bounced; he was laughing!?

“Hehe… ehehehe… Haha! Hahaha! HAH!” the void elf threw his head back, as the laughter overcame him! “HAHAHA--OH HO HO! Y’look like a feckin’ idiot, lad! What’re y’gonna do with that, now? Plannin’ ta smite me with yer open-face reel? Hahah!”

Gattius was not amused. He sighed, as the flames that glowed about his fishing rod flickered out. He scoffed.

“I could, y’know!” he said, defiantly! … but it came out borderline childishly. “I mean… Bah! Nevermind! If you’re Alteris, prove it!”

As if laughing and demeaning him wasn’t proof enough… Gattius lowered the fishing rod, but kept his guard up. His ears flickered about, eyes watching not just the Void elf, but the area around him. The void elf leaned against the tree from behind which he’d emerged, relaxed, casual, not at all appearing threatened by Gattius and his radiant glow.

“Oi, an’ how do yeh want me t’ do that, lad?”

Gattius frowned. He wasn’t entirely sure HOW this void elf could prove such a thing! What would serve as a suitable test? If this was Alteris, by some strange happenstance… how would Gattius know for sure?

“... Tell me something only Alteris would know.” he said. “About… us. About me. Something personal, aye? Not my name or favorite color… something Alteris would know about me that no one else would.”

The void elf raised his brow. He pushed up off the tree, and took a few tentative steps forward.

“A’ight… lemme think, aye? Could go int’a our relationship. First time we fucked? --No, no no, y’might’ve told that story to yer new-ish wife.” he tapped his chin, thoughtfully. “Maybe a war story, campaign we fought t’gether? Or… well, other folks were there fer most’ve ‘em…”

Gattius shook his head. None of that would really be proof. Stories about events like that were easy enough to overhear and recite. He’d told Syrielle a lot about his time with Alteris. Who knows who overheard him? The Guard was infiltrated by void elves once… was this a continuation of that? He couldn’t risk it, no. It had to be something he never told anyone.

“... Tell me about Grim Batol.” he ordered, sternly. “If you’re really Alteris… you’d know that story.”

The void elf’s shoulders slumped a bit, expression growing serious. He swallowed hard, and exhaled a sigh.

“... Aye. I remember it well, lad.” he replied, tone even. “You an’ me ventured in t’gether. Was late night, pitch black sky - dinnae think it could get any darker, until we slipped inside. Y’went in first, told me t’ watch our backs. An’ I did that, until we fell. Slid down that pit trap, remember?”

Gattius watched, rather surprised the void elf knew even that much! Could it be Alteris…?

“... What happened then?”

“Tch… well… yer leg got impaled on an iron spike, if I recall it right. Clean puncture, cleare through yer thigh. I set t’ treatin’ yeh. Bandagin’ yer leg up, best I could. ‘Course y’were criticizin’ my technique e’ry step o’ th’ way…” he chuckled, then shook his head. “... Then, I found it. Tucked in yer pocket, just above where th’ spike gotcha. Pulled it out, an’ I asked yeh, straight up… I said ‘What’re yeh carryin’ round this ring for, lad?’”

The void elf sighed, and shook his head.

“... I got mad ‘bout it, then. Chastised yeh pretty good about it. I remember th’ look on yer face durin’ it. Shocked, hurt… But I weren’t ready t’ git married, lad. An’ I knew y’weren’t then, either.” he sighed. “Took it, threw it across th’ pit, kept treatin’ yer leg. Reckon it’s still down there today, aye?

The ring y’were gonna propose t’me with.”

Gattius was silent. His golden eyes welled up with tears, as his ears pinned back flat along the sides of his head. There was a good reason why he didn’t talk about Grim Batol. To anyone. No one else, not even Syrielle, knew that story. Only he did. Only him… and Alteris. He looked him over, and shook his head.

“... How? You died. I saw you die. And then… you were in my head for so… so long… How’d you come back?”

“Th’ power o’ th’ Void is… strange, lad. Complicated. It’s kept me ‘round in yer head awhile… an’ now it’s brought me back fully.” Alteris shrugged, stepping a bit closer. “Guess that was always th’ point in stickin’ ‘round, but… this weren’t quite how I wanted t’ return to yeh.”

Gattius was speechless. His cigarette fell from between his lips, dying in the moist riverside grass beneath him. He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face - tears of sorrow, tears of joy… tears of anger… the complex bundle of emotions running through him seemed to paralyze him in the moment. He could only look at Alteris, both grateful for his return and disgusted by what he had become. Alteris frowned, nearing closer still until he stood directly before Gattius. He knelt down, and gazed into his luminous eyes. Reaching out, he wiped the stream of tears from the Blood Elf’s cheek, his other hand resting on his shoulder.

“It’s me, lad. I’m back - lookin’ a bit different, I know. Reborn by somethin’ I know yer not fond of…” he sighed, shaking his head. “But this was the only way I could come back to yeh.”

Alteris’ hand slipped up behind Gattius’ neck, as he pulled him up against him. Slowly, he leaned in, and presses his lips to Gattius - retrying that kiss that confusion and doubt had rudely interrupted last time. Gattius didn’t fight it. Now that he knew it was Alteris - truly knew it - he didn’t want to resist. He couldn’t! His arms came up, slipping behind Alteris’ back as he embraced his old lover once again.

It felt different; the energy coursing through Alteris was definitely different, but he felt a familiarity in the movements. The way Alteris kissed him, and the way he kissed him back in return. It was different… yet felt so right! He relaxed, letting out a light moan as he surrendered to the desire. The spark between him and Alteris hadn’t diminished, even after all this time. Despite Alteris’ cold touch, the flames of passion were most assuredly rekindled. He pressed up against his old lover, firmly and commandingly, pushing Alteris down beneath him as they shifted to a horizontal position.

After all, what was one more indulgence this weekend?

#Gattius #Alteris #fishing trip #rekindled?#GASP!#character story

11 notes · View notes

jeongjaehyuns · 6 years

Video

youtube

ok since kellie posted her fancam i thought i’d finally stop being lazy and do the same too :’)

i mentioned this a little bit before but earlier this month, i was lucky enough to get tickets to see nct 127 at the apple music event in la and was able to see them perform! this was by far one of the most amazing and intimate experiences i’ve ever been able to be apart of and being able to see nct 127 doing what they do best together is something i’m going to cherish in my heart for a very long time! here is the link to the full playlist of all their performances!!

underneath the cut will be a much more detailed and in depth account of everything that happened at the event if anyone is interested in reading more about it! ♡

ok hello if there are people who actually decided to keep reading thank u so much and buckle up bc u are in for a riiiiiiiiiide (ridin on that VAAaaaaAAAAan, KEEP dRIVINGGGggGGG) ok anyways! HERE WE GO!

[ ! ] btw the first part is just me talking about everything that happened before the concert so pls feel free to just skip to the last paragraph instead LOL

so when news came out that nct 127 was going to be coming back to the u.s. and perform on jimmy kimmel and that tickets were FREE, my friends and i hi kellie, hi tracey all tried to get some tickets for both the taping and the concert and was able to make it on the waitlist! i don’t live in california but both of my friends do so i told them that if any of us got confirmed tickets, i’d be flying over there for the weekend to attend the show! it’s kind of all a blur now bc the only thing i can remember within that week was stressing out so hard over tickets because the way the whole thing was set up was just SO STRESSFUL because despite being on the waitlist, there is no 100% guarantee that you’d get tickets and they start giving out tickets to people from within a week before the taping to the day of the actual event so really, it was just one massive waiting game. but a week went by and none of us saw any signs of getting tickets and flight ticket prices kept fluctuating for me so i just went ahead and booked my flight anyways without a confirmed ticket pls don’t ever do this omfg please please PLEASE don’t ever do this!!! and PRAYED that one of us would be able to get tickets ;; a few days went by and then nct kept releasing more news and how they’d be performing at mickey mouse’s 90th birthday celebration so tickets for that were also available too and once again, we made it on the waitlist!!! and played not one but now two (2) waiting games!!!! :-)))

honestly i rly don’t remember much that happened during this small time frame bc i was so stressed and anxious over these tickets that it rly took a toll on me physically and mentally LOL but yeah so on wednesday the 3rd, nct 127 posted on their instagram about how they’d be having a special performance partnered with apple music and i was about to start my math exam but the moment i read their post, i ran to the bathroom faster than i’ve ever ran before and of course, i requested tickets and made it on the waitlist again!!!! SO NOW IN TOTAL, IT WAS NOT ONE, BUT THREE (3) WAITING GAMES!!! GAMES THAT I WAS STARTING TO GET SICK OF PLAYING!!! anyways yeah so basically my friends and i made it onto all 3 waiting lists and at this point we really just wanted to be able to make it to at least one event ;;;

fast forward to friday, aka 1 day before mickey mouse and 3 days before kimmel and apple music and also the day my flight leaves for la!!! my friends and i all got a big fat no from mickey mouse saying they wouldn’t be able to accommodate our ticket requests bc they were full so we we re like ok!!! whatevs!!! we still have kimmel and apple to try for!!! so here i am… at the airport… getting ready to leave with no!!! confirmed!!! ticket!!! my flight was quite early in the morning so i was at the airport overnight and it was like around 11:30pm when i was doing homework and i got a notification on my phone… thinking it was just some random notification when in reality, I GOT MY CONFIRMED TICKET FOR THE APPLE MUSIC EVENT :’) it’s a blur to me bc it happened so fast and so suddenly but all i remember was that my jaw literally dropped for the longest time and my hands were shaking so badly bc i cOULDN’T BELIEVE IT??? i wasn’t able to sleep that entire night nor was i able to sleep on the plane from all the adrenaline so that saturday really was an interesting day for me LOL anywho i made it to la safe and sound and spent saturday and sunday hanging out with my friends while we prepared for monday :’)

ok so then despite getting tickets, we had no idea where the location of this event was going to be bc 1iota (the event organizer) wasn’t going to release the information until 10am monday morning and we were planning on waiting in line like early early to get a good spot so we had to be ready and out of the house by 9am!!! bUT WAIT!!! 9am was also when the english version of the mv was going to be released so me and kellie were both !!! bc we wanted to gif the mv so bad!!! so now at this point it’s like 7am and we’re all like half awake trying frantically to get ready and i’m over here trying to stream nct on the radio and listen to the world release of regular eng ver and then somewhere in between all of this, both kellie and tracey ended up getting their emails for confirmed tickets too??? so yeah at this point all three of us are running around like crazy ppl bc we weren’t expecting all of us to go but now all 3 of us get to go!!! so yeah i brought my laptop with me and tried to gif in the car but the connection from my hotspot was so slow so i just sat and cried instead :-) ALSO!!! remember how information about the location was supposed to be released at 10am? yeah well they changed it on us again!!! they delayed it to 2pm so at this point me and kellie rly wanted to d*e bc we did all of that rushing for nothing omfg but fast forward to 2pm, they released the information for the location and since we were already in the hollywood area we went there right away so when we lined up, we were like number 10 in line!!! :D

i wasn’t able to eat at all that entire day just bc i was so stressed and so nervous from everything that the hunger didn’t hit me til like 20 mins before the actual event omg ;;;; i remember saying “omg i’m so hungry” and the girl beside me was like “well sweetie, you’re about to be fed real good rn” and i just died laughing oh my god but yeah i had a priority ticket so i was let in around 7:30pm-ish and the event started at 8! i got barricade again just like last time at kcon ny, my view was reeeeeeally good!! ! i would say even better than kcon’s even tho i was front and center for kcon ;;; back when we were in line, the event organizers kept asking us how we were doing and each time i would tell them that i was super nervous and they’d ask why and i would explain that i just get super nervous before seeing nct omg it’s really true tho idk what it is but i just feel so QUEASY before seeing them… like the fact that you go from seeing them from your screen to seeing them in front of you is just a very STRANGE FEELING FOR ME OK but they kept repeating how we were all going to have a good time and that the space inside was super small so it’s going to be nice and intimate with them and they said how no matter what spot you get, you’re still going to be super close to them… one of the staff members was like “you’re going to be so close to them they’re going to sweat on you” AND GOD THIS JUST MADE ME EVEN MORE NERVOUS KASDJKSAJDKAJDKA

OK ANYWAYS ENOUGH OF THAT, ONTO THE ACTUAL CONCERT! when we got in, the event was actually on a rooftop and so the scenery behind the stage was just soooooo pretty and then they had a playlist of their songs playing in the bg and it was just really nice to listen and enjoy while we waited for them to come out :’) the members kept hiding behind this door and some of them started waving and they were all teasing us so hard bc the moment we saw someone there, we would all start screaming and they just wouldn’t stop :’) then they finally played the apple music documentary video for us and i just remember all of us screaming a lot LOL but then the lights went off again and then we all watched them walk onto the stage one by one and oh my GOD the wait for them to finally start just felt like forever and then next thing i know, the sirens went off and all i hear is “GET IT LIFTED” and then firetruck started omg i was trying to get jaehyun’s attention but then mr. nakamoto yuta… YUTA… looked over on our side and me and him made eye contact for a good solid 3 seconds and i just about lost my shit omg… HE IS SO INSANELY GORGEOUS IN REAL LIFE I WAS RLY GOIN THRU IT… JAEHYUN WHO??? AND THEN HAECHAN OMG… haechan came over to our side like 75% of the time and he is the cutest, most adorable person on this planet!!! he was always smiling and waving and i really can’t think of anything else to describe him other than the sun bc he quite literally was shining that night!!! i think it was halfway through firetruck that we started to realize that the stage was like… a little slippery??? but it wasn’t until limitless started where we really noticed the members starting to slip and stumble here and there ;; also there’s this one part where jaehyun went up super close to me during limitless and i about died… i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again but even after seeing him irl, HE IS SO HANDSOME IT’S UNREAL… HIS VISUALS ARE OUT OF THIS WORLD I CAN’T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD but yeah the staff members would go on stage after each song to try their best to dry the stage but for some reason that wasn’t enough ;; i have no idea why the stage was so slippery but my guess was that it was pretty cool up on the rooftop and with the amount of people there, there was so much body heat in the air and then that mixed with the cool air = condensation??? i also think the shoes the members were wearing had like absolutely no friction at the bottom so it made them slip even more ;; they were also using a fog machine too but idk if that was actually the reason why the stage was so slipper omg but yeah after firetruck, they performed limitless and then they had a small ment here and mark talked about how it was a very special day for them (bc they just came straight from performing at jimmy kimmel too) and then johnny screamed something along the words of being apple music’s next up next artist and he was just so happy!!!! and then mark said that they’ve got october all to themselves and they were so happy to be able to be here with all of the fans! jaehyun also said that the place was so wonderful and said all the fans there were so wonderful and johnny came in to say that they had rehearsals the night before but being there with all the fans, it was a totally different feeling ;~; after that they performed touch and then when it came to cherry bomb (OT10 VER WITH JUNGWOO BTW), this was when things started to look a little :/// bc taeyong had already fell back during touch and at this point i was already beyond worried bc i would rather have them stop the whole thing all together rather than have them risk getting injured just to perform for us??? i shouted so many times to “be careful” in both korean and english T________T IT WAS LIKE THE DREAM CONCERT ALL OVER AGAIN WHEN THEY PERFORMED IN THE RAIN not to mention they had comeback promotions to do once they back to korea too so i rly just wanted them to stop ;;; i also think the members were all starting to get a little discouraged from all the slipping and stumbling during each performance and it kinda just looked like they were all really sad that they couldn’t put on a perfect performance ;; at this point the stage was soooooo slippery and i think they were more focused on not falling rather than performing and my heart rly just was in pieces ;;; taeyong fell again in cherry bomb during the leg split dance and it looked so painful oh my god i was just so WORRIED and i wanted it all to stop so bad ;~; but after cherry bomb ended, i think the members went back down to talk to the staff and then they came back up with different shoes! but finally!!! alas, they performed regular!!! since they switched shoes, the performance went pretty smoothly so i felt a little at ease! taeil, doyoung and mark were still wearing their original shoes so there were a few times when they slipped a little but thank god none of them actually fell ;; despite the song being a released earlier that morning, a lot of the fans did really well in learning the fanchants and singing along with the boys so i think it really helped in boosting the members’ confidence after the prior performances ;; there was a small ment here and doyoung talked and johnny translated it saying how basically the members felt really apologetic that they couldn’t put on good performances bc of the slippery stage and i was yelling with all the energy i had left in my that it was ok!!! that they were doing amazing and that they shouldn’t feel sorry!!! IT WAS KILLING ME INSIDE THAT THEY FELT THIS ASKDJKASDJAKJSDKD I WANTED TO ACTUALLY D*E but then they promised they’d come back to show an even better performance and doyoung held up his lil pinky!!! and then johnny asked how taeyong was doing and he answered back “i’m okay!!!” IN THE CUTEST WAY POSSIBLE… I JUST WANTED TO GIVE HIM ONE BIG FAT HUG T________________T and then taeyong said the last mission they had left was to take a picture with the fans and took out the selfie stick to take a picture with everyone! it was so cute TwT

but yeah, overall the whole experience was really really amazing minus the slippery stage and for the most part, i was really impressed with how organized 1iota was! i’m really grateful i got to be apart of it and it still feels like a dream that i got to attend the event and see them perform and promote their new album here in america!!! they were amazing performers and did so well despite everything! i was really really proud of them ;; anyways, thank you to everyone that made it this far!!! i hope you enjoyed this fan account! i know it’s a super long post but if i don’t write it all out now while it’s still somewhat fresh in my mind, i’m going to forget it by the end of the month so i hope you all understand! thank you so much! ♡

#personal #it’s kinda like really long so only read it if ur interested LOL

24 notes · View notes

moczothe1st · 6 years

Text

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 23: An Altenuous Situation

Part 22

Welcome back to another week of Let’s Tolerate Thracia. …. I mean, let’s play Fire Emblem IV. When we left off, we had just recruited the world’s worst hostage, and were about to send him back to save his doofus father. Let’s check out our new kid!

So here’s Cairpre. He’s… he’s certainly around. His Major Bragi holy blood and all those staves in his backpack should be enough to tell you he’s actually the second child of Claude and Sylvia, making him Lene’s younger brother. How he ended up in Thracia, away from his sister and adopted by Santa Claus, will have to be a story for another time because right now we’re summarizing his unit and he’s… okay. Basically another Claude. He starts off at level one, which is not as big a problem as it could be because he should never, ever be in combat anyway, and comes in with several long-range healing staves that will make his level shoot up fast. He’s just another healer, really. Not a bad healer, but nothing super impressive.

He starts the long walk back to his adopted father to recruit him while Patty just keeps right on stabbing some helpless dude, like a hero.

Good job, Patty! The healer down south of her who kept patching that guy up should push her over the edge to another level, and she’ll be close to promotion. And with him gone, other units who were busy keeping her target standing still can move to clear out Hannibal’s castle.

Mook: If you wish to claim it, you must first claim my life!

There was absolutely no need to do that. He’d have disappeared peacefully when I recruit Hannibal anyway. I just wanted the free experience points.

Patty is learning to become a cannon lately, huh? When she promotes she’ll just wreck people. Lana also gains a level from warping our remaining promotion candidates back to home base to pick up their new clothes, with Lene’s help.

Your mom would be proud, sweetie. But not as proud as I will be of our four shiny new promotes!

Oh, that’s beautiful. Tinni in particular is a standout here, because promoting to War Mage lets her use swords (which… no), Staves, and pushes her Thunder rank up to A so she can finally buy her mom’s old Thoron tome.

And Patty is here too! Cairpre even gains his first level just from zapping the army with his Fortify staff. A good one, too. I’m so proud-ish of him. And from here, Seliph is finally close enough to recruit Altena…

Altena: My brother, Prince Leif, has explained the truth to me, and I can no longer oppose you. If you please, I’d like to join your ranks.

Seliph: Princess Altena?! … Ah, yes. That’s right! Prince Leif has told me everything, and we’ve both prayed you would come… He’ll be so glad to know you’ve joined us. You’ve made a difficult but wise decision.

(I like the implication that the entire drama with Altena was something Seliph knew about, but just kind of slipped his mind.)

Altena: … I can still scarcely believe this has all happened. And yet, the moment I gazed into my brother’s eyes, I understood everything.

(Platonically! She was gazing into his eyes platonically! God, I hate that I feel the need to specify that.)

Altena: His eyes revealed my father’s warm gaze… and as clear as if it were yesterday, I felt for a split second as if I was swaddled in my mother’s gentle arms…

(PLATONICALLY!)

Seliph: I admit I’m still not entirely sure what King Travant was trying to do with you. I still cannot see what would have led him to spare you and bring you into his home after murdering your parents…

(… It was the holy spear of the gods that only she can wield. Why do so many people have trouble grasping that?!)

Altena: I’ve heard he once told my brother, Arion, that he sought to use the power of Leonster’s holy lance, Gae Bolg, as his own. For that alone, he needed me…

Seliph: You were little more than a tool to him?

Altena: I… I’m still not entirely sure. For all his cruelty, he still treated me as if I were his true daughter.

(… When?)

Seliph: Did he, now… I suppose I’ve never known much of his ways.

(That’s cool, neither did the writers.)

Altena: I must as a favor of you, milord. It’s about Arion… we need to help Prince Arion!

Seliph: Certainly! I’m hardly eager to fight a man of his fine caliber, if what I’ve heard is true. The only question is, can we convince him?

Altena: I’ll do my best to persuade him again. All I ask is a little time. Please, milord!

… and having had that dopey mess, also let Cairpre recruit Hannibal.

Cairpre: Lord Seliph freed me from Luthecia!

Hannibal: Cairpre?! Y…you’re safe!

Cairpre: Yep! Listen, Papa…. I want to join Lord Seliph’s army. Thracia’s changed so much lately…. I want to fight to help all of its people, and bring back the old Thracia!

Hannibal: Heh… you’ve grown into a splendid young man, Cairpre. Very well! I, too, shall serve Lord Seliph.

Cairpre: Yes! Thank you, Papa! First we’ll help free Thracia, and then together, we’ll challenge the Empire!

See, Altena? That was a nice normal discussion that didn’t make either of them look like total doofuses who weren’t paying attention to the war they were in. Ah, well, let’s take a look at the newbies.

So here’s Hannibal. He… well, let’s not mince words, he probably wasn’t worth the effort of recruiting him. He’s not a bad unit, inherently, being a General with Pavise, Vantage, and Adept (though with only 11 speed, it’s unlikely he’ll be activating that third one very often). It’s just that the majority of his stats are only ‘decent’ at a time in the game when many units are approaching ‘godlike’, and like Arden before him, he has a lower movement range than everyone else in a game where you’ll quickly find yourself wishing everyone would just get a horse. He’ll get a little use, but honestly most of the time he’ll be staying at our home base to make sure no random reinforcements sneak up and steal it from under us.

And after two borderline duds, we finally get our shining diamond of the map. Altena is a monster; even unpromoted her stats are already mostly equal or better than Hannibal’s, and she’s got more levels left to gain than he does with better growth rates on top of it, thanks to coming with two different Holy Blood types, Major Nova and Minor Baldur. She’s also a flying unit, meaning Fee no longer has to go everywhere alone, and comes into the army carrying all of Quan’s old spears, including the truly awesome Gae Bolg coming at last back to our hands after we barely got to play with it last time. It may not be the almighty nuke that Forseti or Balmung are, but +10 each to Strength, Skill, and Defense is nothing to sneeze at. Our two combatants can now head into nearby castles to face the Arena. I suspect… there will be slight differences in performance.

Altena: Seven wins, gained two levels: +3 HP, +2 Strength, +1 Speed, +2 Defense

Hannibal: Six wins, gained one level: +1 Strength

One of these two had a better performance. Though, in fairness, Hannibal getting creamed did let Lana gain a level from healing him.

Much better! Okay end turn.

Legion of Doom: I suppose it was unavoidable… Fortify our defensive line. Until reinforcements arrive, we must defend the castle at all costs.

Brock from Pokemon: Heh, no matter. The rebels’ little rampage ends here. Ready, men? We’re going in. The Emperor himself’s put a handsome bounty on each rebel head. We mustn’t waste a chance to claim it for ourselves!

So there’s our next issue. The invading Grannvale squad to the north is fairly nasty. Entirely composed of promoted cavalry units and packing two healers with them; they’re hard to wear down in a single turn, and if they all get a shot at the same unit they can definitely take out all but our strongest kids. So, you know, don’t let that happen. To the south, at Grutia castle, is almost the opposite; a veritable swarm of ballistae, so Fee and Altena can’t even really get close, and a Dark Bishop with a siege tome. Once we get close to them they’ll break like cheap glass, but getting there can be risky, to say the least. We’re going to split up; it’s a bit tricky, but in general the ballistae are not a huge issue compared to the bishop miniboss, so anyone who goes for the southern castle mostly has to have enough resistance to take a shot from him, or enough speed and luck to reliably dodge him. I go with Seliph, Leif, Nanna, Ares, Larcei, Shannan, Julia, Arthur, and Lana. The rest of the army will be blocking off the pass to stop the incoming cavalry. Ideally, we’ll get a situation where we can split their attack across several people and then crush them on the return trip. A few turns over movement, and we find ourselves…

Not even close! Everyone was too far away, and that first one snuck up on me real good. I didn’t realize I’d put Lester at the edge of someone’s movement. I was so caught off guard I didn’t screenshot the combat (he dodged. Go archery!). So our first step right now is to back the Hell up.

…

Well, okay, second step.

That’s for swinging at my squishy horse archer, jerkass. I draw back everyone to create a battle line that’s split in the middle by the castle; this should be drawing out a big chunk of the enemy without letting them focus fire on one character. End turn!

Not bad, other than the fact I forgot to equip Finn with his big-people spear and he got a little creamed. Cairpre, care to patch the team up?

Good kid. Rest of the team, rock out!

…. I really dislike that we couldn’t kill that fucking mid-boss. He hits like a truck and he’s annoyingly fast. I… don’t want to end the turn. I see it going badly. But… *sigh*… let’s see…

…. Yeah, I knew that was gonna happen. I knew it. Dammit. Reset.

Okay. This time, we are going to be brave and run away. Once more, kill the outer layer and flee. Go, my brave cowards!

And with this, the only character in the boss’s attack range is Arthur, who is parked in the castle and wielding Forseti. Yes, I am a vindictive person. End turn!

… That’s it?! You didn’t even take a shot, you fucker! Fine, fine, Arthur will come to you.

Congratulations, Musar, you managed to land a single blow. That is more than most of the foes he slaughters can achieve. Arthur also gets the droppable Tornado tome from this boss, meaning he can sell the Elwind he’s been using for his sister to pick up later, or maybe it can go to Lana after I get a chance to promote her, haven’t decided yet. Cairpre even gains another level after healing Arthur’s boo-boos.

Good kid! Not very bright, but talented in his own way. Now, hey, who wants to slaughter?

*sniff* Not bad at all. All that remains of this enemy force is one healer that Patty can chew on to her heart’s content. I have Lana warp Lester back to the home base to promote, and on the next turn she can do the same to Arthur. This army is really coming together! To the north, I’m going to let Cairpre have most of the villages; he’ll need money to repair his staves after spamming them to gain levels on this map. Lana will too, of course, but she…

Has a booooooooooooyfriend. Ulster is rolling in cash and he’ll only be getting more, since he barely needs to spend anything these days, relying on nice normal swords instead of legendary money sinks, so I’ll just have him give Lana all his wealth next turn.

Now, to the south, it’s… *sigh*… time to wade into the Ballista Storm, I suppose. This will be annoying, so I’m just gonna smash it as quickly and brutally as I can; Ares, Leif, and Seliph, go right for the boss and kill. Everyone’s on a horse so they should only have to spend one turn being shot at before they reach and take out the boss. Eeeeeeeend turn!

And you know what, let’s just stop there? It’s like seven more shots of just that. I hate ballistae so much.

Judah: This world is Lord Loptyr’s to smother in darkness!

I appreciate that I somehow managed to miss the cool-looking part of the Fenrir spell and got the weird hit-flash moment where the whole screen turns randomly blue. Now then, our turn, and let’s try to end this fast.

*whistle* Leif, I always forget just how much of a monster promotion turns you into. Up to the north, meanwhile, we still have an army. I know, I forgot them too.

You do you, Patty. While Patty torments a priest… again… Lene takes this time to chat with her newly-recruited and long-lost brother that she doesn’t actually know.

Lene: Wait, you’re from Darna too?

Cairpre: You’re familiar with Darna, Lene?

Lene: Yep! I grew up in the abbey there. They told me my mom was a dancer, who left me there when I was about two years old. That’s why I’m a dancer now. I was thinking that maybe, if I did the same thing as her, one day I might find her again. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I taught myself everything I know about dancing.

Cairpre: That’s really great of you, Lene! I, er, guess I thought wrong about you…

Lene: Not a big fan of dancers, Cairpre?

Cairpre: Not really…. At least, not unti I met you, Lene.

Lene: Awww! Thanks, Cairpre!

Cairpre gains +1 Luck from this, because…. Look, you need to stop asking questions. I also choose not to zap Arthur home after all; he doesn’t need his promotion, and I want him to shut up and marry Julia already, so I’m gluing them together for now. Maybe they’ll hook up, maybe they won’t, but either way I’ll demand they sex who they are told to sex. Instead, Lana just heals someone and levels…

And Lester takes his promotion.

Not a super impressive promotion, but… a promotion. The turn ends there, and the enemy phase is a desperately sad event, with ballistae firing and missing again and again. It saddens me. I’m sad.

Look at that! Even Oifey doesn’t respect them.

In any event, Patty finishes bullying the clergy and Cairpre zaps her…

And we dismantle some siege equipment.

And that’s that! The current section of map is over, so I take a few turns to move folks around; Cairpre starts trekking north to get his fortune, while the rest of the army splits up, most of them heading south to hook up with Seliph and co., but Patty, Ulster, Lana, Shanan, Tinni, Faval, and Altena are staying in the north to reinforce our assorted castles. Thracians are tricky and they can fly, so you can’t leave your castles unattended for a second on this stupid map. The first time I played I actually managed to lose all of them but Meath just through sheer force of stupid.

And it is on this exciting note that I leave you for the week, gentle readers. Seliph, will you play us out?

(You may remember the previous update wherein Arion just suddenly turned into a rampaging douche. That state of events has stuck.)

Lewyn: I suppose that stubborn dracoknight pride compels him to fight to the bitter end. I was hoping the legendary Arion of Thracia would be a wiser man than this… Seliph, I hope you understand we can’t turn back now. This last battle needs to be fought.

(Well, yeah, dude, his family has been trying to kill us for two weeks while we politely ask them to go away.)

Seliph: I don’t understand him. Why would Arion insist on fighting such a futile battle… how can he be so callous? Does he not understand the grief he’s inflicting on Altena?

… And hey, for once, Lewyn doesn’t spout some pseudo-philosophy at us! This really is a bright note to leave an update on. See y’all next week!

Total Resets: 27. I knew that boss was a bastard and I still let myself get caught off guard. For shame, me.

Part 24

#let's play #let's play fire emblem IV #Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War #fire emblem 4 #Genealogy of the Holy War #my writing #lp #fire emblem #long post #they're all long

12 notes · View notes

bonnissance · 6 years

Text

did this fun post (via @fortytworedvines) lead me down a fun plot!bunny path of Hecate winding herself up in knots about Dimity excluding her from staff nights, when in reality our beautiful sporty bi has simply been trying (and failing) to ask out the newest useless lesbian in Cackle’s staff aka Marigold Mould?

The answer is yes, so please enjoy.

pre-ship Dimity Drill/Marigold Mould, Hecate Hardbroom (Hackle and Hicsqueak both visible-ish and open for romantic or platonic readings) (TWW2017) teen, 2k+ CW: Feelings of isolation and unwantedness. Hecate needs some damn therapy but nothing heavier than the show.

Hecate knows she’s not the most likeable person in the world. Knows her focus and dedication to the Craft often come off as snobbish or self-centred and uncaring. That many wish she were softer, kinder, less prickly or hard to swallow.

She knows people wish she were different.

But she knows why she is the way she is, and truth be told, other people’s opinions don’t really matter to her (they used to, a long time ago, before she let hate-filled words spoken ring louder than reassurances from those with her best interests at heart and caused so much hurt in the fall out. She shut herself off, after that, and it served her well enough for most of her life; it is only now, only recently, that Hecate has truly learnt the lesson of not listening to those who simply do not care: be it the voices of others, or her mind’s own making. She will not make the same mistake again).

She also knows she isn’t the easiest person to work with, that many simply don’t see the same need for rigorous study and discipline she believes the Craft warrants, and so find her ways off putting. But she also knows she is right, that her methods help their youngest girls become the best witches they can be as they grow. Especially when paired with the softness of Miss Cackle and Miss Bat—which let their girls breath, regain their strength lest it be sapped away and leave them all brittle and easily broken—and Miss Drill’s focus on physical exertion—essential to the fitness of any witch wanting to fulfil their own potential.

She knows her ways have a place, here, at Cackle’s. Just as she knows she has a place, here, too. That within their somewhat eclectic band of educators who appreciate her talents, respect her and her abilities, and give her a space in which to use them, she has found her place in the world, finally found her home.

She thought that she had found her home.

It’s why it hurts so much, to hear she isn’t wanted here anymore. That the others don’t want her around anymore. That Dimity didn’t even want Hecate there to help celebrate her birthday.

And she can’t understand it. Because she’s sure she hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary to bother Dimity. In fact, in the aftermath of Agatha’s annihilation spell, in the wake of her and Gullet’s many, many betrayals, Hecate actually thought they were becoming quite close; that they might even have begun to bridge the space between friendly colleges and actual friends.

They’d spoken about it, over the break, when Dimity stayed put to help rebuild the castle. Spoken about what Dimity had done in their absence, and Hecate was impressed. With how strongly Dimity fought for the girls, how she kept the castle standing long enough to get everyone out, how she very nearly sacrificed herself in the process.

Dimity had played it off, pretended it wasn’t that big a deal, that any of the other teachers would have done the same. On the last point, Hecate conceded: many of their number would have done the same, if put in that position. But she also knew just how much power it took to do what Dimity had (knows what it would have cost her, has she been the witch casting, instead of trapped and helpless in that wretched painting along with Ada).

‘None of us would be here if it weren’t for you,’ she pointed out, voice clear and precise, as if she weren’t chocking on gratitude and just a hint of shame. ‘We owe you a great debt. One that I hope we may, in time, come close to repaying.’

Dimity had shrugged, looked a little speechless, her eyes a little wet; Hecate had left her to her thoughts with a heartfelt, ‘Thank you.’

Things had been decidedly warmer between them, after that, definitely friendlier (not that they’d ever been unfriendly, just more than they used to be). Which is why is actually hurts, to hear Miss Mould admit that Dimity had left her out.

Because she had never done that before. Had, in fact, gone out of her way to get Hecate to join in on a few occasions. Never talking around it like she had with Miss Gullet (It had been quite nice, actually, to not be the one left out, to know she wasn’t the last on everyone’s list. She thinks that’s the only thing she misses about Gullet: having proof that she isn’t the most hated teacher in the school. The one the girls are most afraid of, certainly. That, she knows, and doesn’t mind: a well-developed sense of respect always looks like fear, in her experience).

Because her colleagues, she was sure, appreciated what she brought to the school, what she contributed to their collective. And she doesn’t like being left out, not now she knows what it feels like to be included. She thought she’d left all this behind, but she was wrong.

It hurt more now than it ever has.

It Sticks in her throat when Miss Mould tells her; when Dimity brushes her off, pretending it was for Hecate’s benefit, not at her expense.

But she handles as best she can, manages it quite well, in fact. Until she hears it again, in the common room: her exclusion the stuff of gossip.

‘Yes, Dimity was saying during staff drinks last night—’

She stops listening, doesn’t hear the low rumble of confused whispers; looks away, doesn’t see the odd looks everyone else shoots Marigold, then Dimity. Doesn’t see the confusion in everyone else’s eyes about the staff outing that none of them were invited to either. Doesn't realise it isn’t just her.

Has no idea it’s not just her for weeks—almost a month—of Marigold’s happy voice recounting all the fun she’s been having, outside of work, with Dimity (‘What a shame everyone is always too busy to join,’ she muses one day. ‘Everyone works so frightfully hard, I hope they get a chance to join in some time.’)

If she’s heard, she might have thought harder about the frequency of these outings, about the others never attending, about Ada never mentioning anything about it; she doesn’t. Hecate has long since stopped listening.

Until Marigold spends a solid half an hour recounting the night before—her and Dimity stargazing by the North tower—and ‘isn’t it such a shame everyone has so many papers to grade and couldn’t join! It was a wonderful clear night, I’m sure you would have all had a wonderful time.’

Hecate stands silence and stiff while the rooms hums a gentle agreement (doesn’t see their shared glances, doesn’t hear the faintly whispered, ‘Bless, what a useless lesbian,’ a fond and disbelieving hush: ‘She hasn’t a clue yet, has she?’). Sneers at the fact that her colleagues would organise an evening of stargazing, an evening devoted to one of her specialties—a lesser focus that potions, she knows, but an area of expertise all the same—and not think to include her, before turning away and walking out of the room in a storm of disgust.

It’s an insult she wasn’t invited—not an oversight, or it slipped someone’s mind, and they thought she wouldn’t enjoy herself—an actual insult, to be excluded from her own specialty, something they all knew she would enjoy. She won’t stand for this anymore.

She hasn’t spoken to Miss Drill about it, not since the first time—she knows when she’s not wanted—but she resolves to now—because she doesn’t know why.

She finds Dimity walking along the tree line, accessing the perimeter for possible flying drill obstacles.

‘Miss Drill, might I have a word?’ she asks, clipped tones covering the raw emotion in her voice. She should have taken a moment to calm down.

‘Sure, what’s up?’ Miss Drill asks, light and breezy. Like she hasn’t a care in the world. Like she’s done nothing wrong. Like she hasn’t been cruel since term began.

‘It’s about these staff nights.’ She almost sneers when Miss Drill frowns at her. Like she doesn’t know what Hecate is talking about. Like Hecate has nothing to talk about. Like there’s nothing here to be talked about. ‘I understand I’m not the most social of witches, but whether or not I participate in staff related activities is for me to decide and no one else.’ The other witch opens her mouth—to rebut, deny, pretend it’s all in Hecate’s head, she’s sure—Hecate doesn’t let her speak. ‘As Deputy Head, I deserve an invitation, irrespective of my suitability for the event, or whether the rest of the staff want my attendance.’

Dimity does a very good impression of a goldfish when she’s caught out. ‘No, Miss Hardbroom, it’s not—’

‘Rest assured, I have no intention of including myself in situation where I am clearly not wanted.’

‘That’s not—’

‘But,’ she interrupts, again; finger raise in a sharp point. ‘To not even invite me is frankly rude, and I would appreciate it if you stopped excluding me from such things.’

Miss Drill looks at her like Hecate has two heads. ‘What? No! I haven’t been excluding you, I’ve just been inviting Marigold.’

Hecate sniffs, and sneers. There it is, the crux of the matter: they have a new teacher—kinder, softer, nicer—and now they don’t want her at all. It hurts far more than it ought to, and she hates herself for caring so much.

But she is, above all, Deputy Head. She has a duty to her staff, no matter what it costs her.

‘She is, I suppose, a positive addition to our collective. I’m glad she is finding her place with the rest of the teachers.’

She wonders how quickly she can transfer away without it looking like a tantrum.

‘No, Hecate,’ Miss Drill starts, taking a step forward. Hecate is thrown by her first name, by the fondness of Dimity’s voice when she says it. ‘I mean I’ve just been asking Marigold.’

Hecate blinks, incredulous. A moment ago, she was upset and self-righteous; now she’s just confused. Dimity looks at her imploringly—willing her to understand—and she doesn’t know what to say. Eventually she settles on, ‘But all those staff nights…’

‘There haven’t been any,’ Dimity says with a shrug. ‘Every time I ask her out, she assumes it’s a group invite. I went along with it the first time because she caught me off guard, but it keeps happening and I don’t know how to tell her these aren’t staff outings without actually telling her.’

‘Why don’t you do that?’ she asks without thinking, frowning and more confused than ever.

Dimity sniffs. Flashes Hecate a smug, disbelieve smirk. ‘You ever admitted you fancy someone to their face?’

For a moment, Hecate feels ten inches tall. She pouts, lips tight, and swallows. ‘Point taken.’

Dimity chuckles, then huffs out a sigh. ‘See thing is, I’m positive she’s a bit keen on me too— otherwise I’d have stopped asking ages ago—she’s always so happy to see me, and then she gets this light in her eyes when no one else arrives, but then there’s nothing after that,’ she explains dejectedly. ‘Either we have to head back to the castle which breaks the mood, or time get away from us and then it’s late and there’s class in the morning. I mean, I tried offering to walk to her to her door once, but it was hardly a sensible suggestion and it didn’t get me anywhere.’ She huffs again, looks at Hecate with a face like a kicked puppy. ‘I’m getting to my wits ends.’

Hecate doesn’t know how to handle situations like this—if she were Ada, she might offer a reassuring squeeze to the shoulders; Pippa would offer donuts or some other terribly sugary confection and find a way to make Dimity laugh—but Hecate doesn’t know how to offer reassurance, not for things like this.

She does, however, know how to solve a problem. ‘Have you considered asking her for private art lessons?’

Dimity double takes, wide eyed and happily startled. ‘No, I—I hadn’t thought of that,’ she mumbles, her face lighting up as she beams. ‘Goddess, Hecate, you’re a genius!’ Dimity yells, and pulls Hecate into a brief and startling hug.

Hecate yelps slightly, arms up and fingers tensed, and feels a laugh bubble up her throat: it shifts into a smile as Dimity lets go almost as quickly, when she sees the look on her face.

‘Thanks pal, you’re a lifesaver!’ she yells over her shoulder and she races towards the castle.

Hecate watches Dimity scurry away with a gentle smile that grows with each passing moment. Grows with the satisfaction of being helpful bubbling in her heart, the delight of having helped a friend warming her cheeks, the happiness of having a friend lighting up her whole face.

She lets herself smile a few moments longer, filing details away to recount to Pippa during their next mirror call. She wonders briefly if this feeling is why people gossip the way they do as she transfers herself outside Ada’s office door; thinks she may yet come to understand as she knocks gently and is bidden ‘come in,’ with a smile still curling at the corner of her lips.

#TWW2017 #hecate hardbroom #dimity drill #is a babe and i love our sporty outdoors bi gal so much #took on a damn falling castle and held her own #what a gal she's so fkn ripped in muscle and magic #*happy sigh*#i wrote a thing #the worst witch #this is set in a universe where mould isn't a psychic moth witch and hasn't been plotting the downfall of cackle's since she arrived #she's just a hot lady that's caught dimity's eye #get it gals #(other than it's pretty canon compliant)#also hecate is a stargazing moon loving lesbian pass it on #there is a witch i love and her name is hecate hardbroom

77 notes · View notes

kae-karo · 6 years

Text

Demons and Diners: Nightmare Before Christmas

Nightmare Before Christmas

Read Demons and Diners first! This is part 1.5 in the series.

5.4k word count

Summary: Dan's helping Phil get set up for the annual Christmas-ish party by decorating the mansion, but something about the way Phil's been treating him lately has started to grate on his nerves. TW descriptions of panic attack

“Phil? No, no, Phil what are you doing?” I laugh at him - he’s about four feet above the top of my head, trying to hang an incredibly ornate wreath in the grand ballroom. “No, it’s too low! The other one is much higher!” I step back a few more paces, trying to determine how level the other decorations are in comparison.

“You just said it was too high!” Phil protests, wings beating gently to keep him afloat. I’m distracted for a moment by the bright red pattern painted across the leathery membrane before I realize he’s lowering himself to the ground. “There, that’s good, right?”

I return my attention to the wreaths, which are actually pretty even now.

“Okay, yeah, those look fine,” I smile at him, and he disappears through the nearby portal - I’m told it leads to some huge storage warehouse (of course there’s one of those in this giant labyrinth). Phil emerges a moment later with what looks to be an enormous version of a Christmas tree base, and I furrow my brows in confusion.

Before their honeymoon, PJ had explained to me that this celebration was something like the human Christmas - a little less gift-giving, a little more focused on the ‘traditional’ aspects: family, festivities, and well-wishing. The newlyweds are due back at the end of the week, only two days away now, just before the party Phil’s throwing. I snort at the thought - for a guy who claimed to hate parties not but two months ago, he’s spent most of my time here searching for any excuse to gather everyone together and celebrate; I think we’ve had four events in the span of the last month, easily.

“Okay, we need the tree before we can finish decorating. I’ll go get that, maybe tomorrow?” Phil’s thinking aloud as he sets the heavy metal contraption in the center of the room - a space has been cleared, a very large one, and I try to imagine a tree that would actually fill it. Jesus, that’d be enormous. But if the rest of the decorations are any clue, I shouldn’t be surprised - the wreaths alone are larger than I am tall.

“Do you need my help with that as well?” I offer, since he’s been dragging me around for the past three days to decorate every corner of the mansion and diner. I cross over to him as he folds his wings, but they dematerialize the moment before I wrap arms around his waist. Though I’ve already seen him in full demon mode, he seems pretty unwilling to display that side of him around me unless it’s necessary.

His hands find mine across his stomach, and he twists in my loose grip until we’re face to face. Though I’m intent on watching his bright blue eyes, I can’t help but notice when a twinge of doubt crosses his features; I don’t comment. A smile quickly replaces it, followed by an annoyingly patronizing kiss. Okay, maybe I’m just assuming it’s patronizing.

“No, this is something I’ll probably need to do on my own, but thanks for offering,” he gives me a quick squeeze then shuts down the portal behind him. A gentle tug of his arm at my back prompts me into movement, and we’re both heading toward the stairwell.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to do anything, if it’s not safe or whatever,” for all the help he’s been asking of me, he keeps me far and away from the actual task at hand - like giving him directions for how to hang decorations while he hauls them into place. I can feel the way he’s babying me, as if I’m going to snap in two just from helping lift a heavy object or something.

And it’s infuriating. I get that I’m human, but Chris has been just fine here for hundreds of years, why am I any different?

“No, this will require a bit of a trip,” he smiles over his shoulder before descending the stairs in front of me, and I suppress a huff of annoyance. I’m not going to break, alright? You have no idea what I’ve been through, I’m tougher than you’re giving me credit for.

I want to say all those words, and maybe some more, but I just follow in frustrated silence.

“I’ve got some bookkeeping to take care of,” Phil begins as he stops in front of my room - though we’ve sort of been sharing his room, and he’s expanded it a bit to fit us both more comfortably, he insists I keep my own space just in case.

“That’s fine, I work in-” I pause beside him, checking my phone. “Shit, ten minutes, okay I’ll see you later!” I press a quick kiss to his cheek, and he chuckles at me before continuing down the corridor.

I quickly change into my uniform and take off down the hall. Despite working a fairly busy shift, my mind keeps flowing back to Phil and the way he’s been treating me. The moment I made the connection between his protectiveness and my being human, things keep popping up - the time he insisted I stay in my room while he investigated a potential attack on the diner (turned out to just be a drunk patron), when he refused to let me help Louise with a particularly challenging dish (there were live...creatures involved), not to mention the fact that he still never shows off his demon form in my presence.

Phil’s treating me like some breakable china doll. I set the bused plates down in the kitchen with a loud clang, rattling the metal table.

“Honey, what has got you so wound up?” Louise calls from across the kitchen, and I spin in a huff.

“It’s Phil,” I groan, and she throws her head back with a laugh. Bright white flashes in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I catch a glimpse of the long fangs hiding inside her mouth.

“Of course it is, nothing else would get you so hot and bothered,” she responds when she’s finished laughing. She waves her sous chef over - James, the cat-eyed man I had met several weeks ago - and he takes her place at the stovetop. Freed for a minute, she walks over; only once she’s stood in front of me, arms crossed against her chest and an eyebrow cocked, does she speak again.

“Alright, what’s going on? He being secretive? Done something mean? Stole your cereal?” She gasps at me, then leans in conspiratorially. “Did he do something in bed you didn’t fancy?” I was about to explain things until she said that last bit, now I’m just blushing furiously.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I mumble, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, he’s...no, he’s fine in bed, I just…” I bury my hands in my face, mostly to shut myself up. Why on earth would I say that? Get it together, Dan, jesus.

“Well, out with it then, hon, I ain’t got all day!” She almost shouts it, and I’m wishing I had some magical ability to curl into a ball and disappear. Or a portal, to escape. Anything to keep the curious eyes of the kitchen staff from staring at us.

“I, uh…” I pause, about to tell her - but would she understand? She’s not human, either… I go for it anyway. “He’s treating me like I’m fragile, I think. Just because I’m human!” I try to sound indignant, but it comes across as whiny, and I curl my lip in annoyance.

“Well, you are human, and you have to remember how little time we all spend among humanity. Can’t really blame him for not knowing what all you can and can’t handle,” she reasons, fixing a hard gaze on me. I sigh, rolling my eyes. Of course she’s going to be all logical about it.

“Fine, fine, but how am I supposed to show him I’m not going to break the moment something slightly bad happens? I can’t very well just throw myself into some dangerous situation and hope I survive,” I say it aloud, but I’m suddenly wondering if I can’t do exactly that. If I show him I can handle something he’s deemed unsafe for humans, maybe he’ll reconsider?

“Oh no, I know that look,” Louise pouts at me, narrowing her eyes. “Whatever it is, do not expect me to help! I want no part in putting you straight into danger, love,” she spins on a heel, returning to her station and sending James back to his work.

I spend the rest of my shift rolling that idea over in my head, formulating a plan.

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

Though I went to bed alone, immediately after my shift - and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow - I wake in Phil’s arms. I burrow into his chest, dreading actually getting up and hoping he’ll just stay asleep a bit longer. He’s not one to spend too long in bed, no matter how much I play the needy boyfriend; there’s always work to be done, and he’s always the one who has to do it.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Phil’s gruff sleep-affected voice is amazingly seductive, though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. I let my thoughts wander, tracing a hand across his stomach. “None of that, now, I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he’s smiling down at me, eyes flashing red as he peeks into my head, and he catches my hand at the waistband of his sweatpants. And laces his fingers through mine. And pulls us both up to the safer territory of his chest.

“Mmmm come on, you can stay in bed another five minutes,” I grumble, nuzzling into his neck and sucking at it softly.

“Come on, yourself, babe,” he jokes, freeing my hand and lifting my chin so our lips are almost touching. “Besides,” his voice - if possible - has taken on an even huskier tone. “You know it’d take a bit longer than that.” A shiver shoots up my spine, and I try to close the gap between us; of course, he pulls away and presses a kiss to my nose instead.

Which is exactly what I needed, because I’m suddenly reminded of the masterful plan I came up with last night.

“You’re right!” I rush to say, and he looks at me with a cocked brow - and blue eyes, so I can safely continue the lie. “I mean,” I calm my tone a bit, “you still have to get the tree, and I told Louise I’d help her with a few things to prepare for the feast tomorrow,” I blink a few times, hoping I’ve hidden my real motives convincingly. And hoping he won’t actually go fact-checking with Louise. He furrows his brows, now, looking concerned as his eyes drift off to a spot on the wall behind me. Shit, I hope he’s not trying to figure out what exactly I’m helping with...given I literally have no clue what’s on the menu.

“Okay,” he nods after a minute of deliberation, and I realize he must’ve been actually considering whether he’d allow me to help her. Still treating me like a fragile little human, I push down the groan of frustration and force my face into an overly-cheery smile instead.

“Go on, I’ll be heading off to my room for a bit first,” I gesture at him to shower first, needing him out of the way and distracted so I can put my plan into action.

He plants another kiss on my cheek, then disappears into the bathroom. The moment I hear the water turn on, I stop by my room and grab some necessities before taking the fastest shower of my life and quickly dressing. The hallway is, inconveniently, very long and straight - nothing to hide behind. I open my door a crack and peek down toward Phil’s room. I hope he hasn’t left yet…

But he follows my expectations perfectly, not emerging for another five minutes. I try not to stare at his ass too much as he makes his way down the corridor, then sneak out behind him and close my door softly. He doesn’t seem to have heard me, so I follow cautiously. Once out the door, he heads right - toward the diner? Or the kitchen...he’d better not be checking with Louise…I rush out after him, breathing a sigh of relief when I notice the slight swing of the door leading to the diner.

As I pass the kitchen, though, I give it a quick once-over - good, no sign of him in here. The diner door swings open toward me, and I back away, ready to hide. Fortunately, it’s just one of the waitresses, and her entrance has allowed me a convenient way to slip in without drawing more attention to myself.

The door swings wide, outward, and I slip through and behind the counter. I pretend to focus very intently on a spot in front of me, hoping Phil’s not in a position to notice my presence. I wait for a few moments, under the guise of reorganizing some napkin holders and condiments, before I feel confident enough to check the room around me.

It’s bustling, right in the middle of the breakfast shift, and it takes me a solid three scans of the room to conclude that Phil isn’t here.

“Hey,” I nudge Jemma, who’s stood behind the counter and actually working. “Have you seen Phil this morning?” I hope my tone is casual enough, not too suspicious.

“Hey Dan, morning to you too!” She chirps. Far too chipper, all the time, I don’t know how she does it. I’m even having a bit of trouble looking at her too closely, with the way the lights are reflecting off her scales. “Yep, he was here just a bit ago, did you need something?” She’s fixed concerned eyes on me, and I want to scream. Why does everyone think I’m helpless?

“No,” I grind out, teeth gritted. Then inhale slowly. She’s being polite, there’s no reason to be mean to her. Not to mention she’s still my superior. And, if what Chris told me is true, she could kill me pretty quickly. I realize I’m staring at her mouth, which I’ve been told is hiding rows of shark-like teeth under a glamour. “No, no,” I hope I sound a bit calmer, kinder. “Uh, but which way did he go?” I definitely didn’t pass him in the hall, and if he went through a portal, I’m royally screwed. Shit, that didn’t even occur to me.

“Out the front door, of course!” She grins, and I try not to wince. It isn’t fair to her, that I’m actually a little nervous - especially given there’s no sign of her teeth. She’s been nothing but immensely kind to me, so I return the smile and rush off with a quick ‘thanks’ thrown over my shoulder.

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

It takes me all of three steps outside the front door to realize what I’m walking into. The aether. I haven’t seen it since the moment I tried to escape, right when I first arrived - the windows of the diner don’t give much view of the outside, aside from blackness. It could easily be midnight in a dark city, and that’s exactly how I’ve seen it up til now.

But now...now the blackness is overwhelming, and...well, it isn’t quite black. It’s dark, sure, but I can see swirling tendrils and fog and mysterious shapes, just far enough out of my view that I can’t get a good grasp on what they might be.

But that...that I’d recognize anywhere. Far off to my left, I spot a blob of black shot through with threads of red and orange and gold. Phil. I take another step, then turn back toward the diner. It’s a beacon of light in the terrifying darkness, and I’m sure I can find my way back if I get lost. So I take more confident steps toward Phil, allowing his wings to guide me.

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

I’ve been walking for a few minutes now, but the wings don’t seem to be getting any closer. If anything, the fog has only made them blurrier. Or perhaps I’ve been staring too hard. I can’t tell, I can barely see anything now - just the faintest hint of red a distance away. I think I’m going the right way, keeping the red in front of me, but I stop for a moment to try to piece together my surroundings.

Far off to my right, nothing but darkness. All around me, I think I can make out the spindly branches and thick trunks of some trees - though none look like the pines I imagined Phil would be searching for. After a brief check that the glowing wings haven’t disappeared, I check behind me.

My heart stops in my chest. The diner...it’s gone...At first, I can’t breathe. Then, all at once, I’m gasping and I can’t seem to exhale properly and my eyes are watering and I’m desperately searching for some kind of indication, just the faintest glow, that the diner is still back the way I came.

I stumble forward - rather, backward, toward where I thought the diner had been - but my feet get caught on some undergrowth, and I fall to the ground. When I manage to lift my head, which has begun spinning, my hazy vision searches for anything even remotely familiar. I turn back, clinging to the dirt beneath me as I collapse back on my ass in the middle of this hell-forest, hoping against all hope that the red glow of Phil’s wings will appear out of the darkness and rescue me.

Jesus christ, I am a fucking fragile human, look at me, I’m stuck in this mess and I can’t find my way back and I have no idea what to do and nobody knows I’m out here and I’m going to die and...I can’t stop the running narration in my head from pushing me further and further into a state of panic, and my dirt-covered hands lift from the ground to wrap around my knees. I can’t breathe properly, only short gasps, as I huddle into myself.

Within moments, I swear I can hear creaking around me - I don’t dare look up, but I know the trees - with their spiked and spindly branches - are reaching down for me, waiting to rip me apart. I deserve it, for thinking I could go out here by myself and survive. My breathing slows, though the pounding in my ears - must be my heartbeat - doesn’t; I squeeze my eyes shut, then collapse onto my side, still curled into a ball. The earth is dry but cool against my cheek, and I can feel the puffs of dust that hit my face each time a tear finds its way from the corner of my eye to the ground below.

I think I’m sobbing, now, but I can’t hear anything through the thunderous sound of my heart in my ears; it’s all-encompassing, and I try to focus on it instead of the coarse grip of the branches inevitably creaking their way down to grab me. Or worse, some...creature could be out here, waiting for a tasty little snack…

I bite my lip, hoping the pain will distract me, but now all I can hear is the heavy breathing of whatever terrifying being is surely approaching me now.

When something grabs my arm, I scream.

But the hand is soft, not clawed in a way that would have cut deep into my flesh, nor is it the scraping rough bark of a sentient tree trying to pull me limb from limb.

I blink my eyes open, frightened when red swims in my vision. Red, jesus, am I dead already?

But a gentle voice reaches through the pounding of my eardrums, and the tears manage to clear away from my eyes, and suddenly Phil is coming into focus; his hand is on my arm, and I can tell he’s speaking, but I shake my head and try to take a breath.

When I exhale, it’s another sob, and I squeeze my eyes shut and lean into him. His voice is clearer, now inside my head; he mutters soothing words and it relaxes me just a little. I barely notice when his arms wrap around me, lifting me easily.

It takes me longer than I’d like to admit - to be fair, though, I just had some kind of panic attack - to realize that Phil’s method of transportation is flight. My sobs have stopped, enough that they’ve just become small hiccups, and I open an eye experimentally. I’m being held like a baby - so much for that attempt to show I’m not a fragile human - and we’re soaring high above the forested darkness below us.

I open my other eye, somewhere between exhilarated and terrified, and watch the growing light of the diner in the distance. I focus on it, as if it’s a lighthouse drawing us safely into harbor; I swear I don’t blink until we’ve settled on the ground at the front door. Phil doesn’t let me down, though, pushing the door open with an extended wing and pulling us both inside.

I shut my eyes once we’re inside, partly against the sudden brightness and partly against the shocked stares directed our way.

“Dan! Are you-” Louise bursts out into the diner, and I peek an eye open sheepishly. “Daniel James Howell, what on earth have you done?” Though her wrath is terrifying, and I’ll indubitably have a lot of explaining to do later, I’m far more nervous for the talk that Phil seems intent on us having right now.

He marches right past her, heading toward the living quarters, and doesn’t stop until he’s sat me down on his bed. I keep my gaze on the floor between us, arms wrapping around myself anxiously.

“Are you okay?” Phil’s voice is tight, like he’s holding back his anger. I don’t trust my own words, so I whisper a confirmation into my head. I certainly can’t meet his gaze. Which is why I’m so shocked when he tackles me back to the bed in a hug.

“Oh my god, oh my god I was so worried! When I heard you, out there, I thought you were…” he pauses, and I finally allow myself to look in his eyes - they’re bright red, like fire, but slowly threading through with rivulets of blue as he pulls back from my mind.

“Phil, I…” I start, though my voice is hoarse. Probably all the crying and screaming. My face flushes - not only have I failed completely in my attempt to show Phil how tough I am, I’ve probably set myself back so far that he’ll never let me out of his sight again. Not that I’d complain, but....I can already see him sealing me into a protective bubble just so I won’t accidentally scrape a knee or hit my elbow on something.

“I was so worried,” his eyes are glassy, now, like he’s about to start crying, and I take a deep breath to fight off my own tears. I put myself in danger, and scared him so much...he thought I might be dead…

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but he doesn’t let me say anything else - his lips are on mine in a desperate kiss, and I kiss back just as forcefully. I could’ve died, I could’ve died out there if he hadn’t found me. When I feel wetness on my cheek, it takes me a full ten seconds to realize it isn’t my own tears, though those have started to flow as well.

“I thought I lost you,” Phil’s whispering against my lips, mostly nonsense between kisses, but those words send a pang through me, a tear in my heart. I’m such an idiot.

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

PJ and Chris have just returned, which I find out not because anyone tells me, but because of a very obnoxious knocking on Phil’s door at some ungodly hour of the morning.

I groan when Phil leaves my side, pawing at his chest, but he just gives me a quick kiss and swings the door open. To a very angry-looking Chris, and a somewhat less angry-looking PJ. Although, for PJ, even that much expression is a bit frightening. I sit bolt upright in the bed, worried something horrible has happened. Or is happening.

Phil must have the same idea.

“What’s going on?” He asks, immediately shifting into business mode. PJ looks at me through the gap in the doorway, black eyes engulfing his usual bright green, and I grimace. Peej, look, I was just...I try to explain into my head, but he’s pulled out and focused on Phil before I get the chance. I guess he knows, anyway, if he saw what happened…

Chris, however, is not nearly as stoic as PJ. He actually pushes past Phil and into the room, standing in front of me with crossed arms.

“How dare you go out there, and scare the shit out of all of us?” He’s shouting, and I drop my eyes. Here’s the verbal lashing I was expecting from Phil...Chris chastises me for another full minute before PJ steps past Phil and wraps an arm around Chris’ shoulder. His movement makes me glance up, at which point I notice the angry tears in Chris’ eyes. He was that worried as well?

A small nod from PJ confirms it, and I feel a fresh wave of shame wash through me.

“I’m so sorry, Chris, I’m a complete twat for doing that to all of you,” I drop my head into my hands, then startle when I feel a soft squeeze at my shoulder. Before I can look back up, PJ is guiding Chris from the room, and Phil closes the door gently behind them. “I really didn’t-” I start, but Phil cuts me off.

“He’s right,” I look over to the intimidating presence at the doorway, still a little surprised Chris had managed to push past him. “That was idiotic of you, to put yourself in danger like that. Hell, I told you on the first day that the aether was dangerous,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair distractedly.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I just-” Phil cuts me off again, and I cross my arms in a huff.

“Yes, yes, I know, you were trying to prove a point. I understand I know nothing about your past…” Phil trails off, but this time it’s full of something unsaid.

“And?” I prompt. “I can’t read your mind, you know,” I know it’s a bit of a low blow, given that he actively tries not to read my mind too often, but I also know it’ll work.

“And you won’t talk about it!” I’m shocked by the words, enough that I don’t move when he sits down beside me. “I promised I wouldn’t look through your memories from before, but god I feel like I barely know anything about you!” He’s incredibly flustered, but I can’t focus on his concerns.

Instead, I burst out laughing. Which earns me a very confused look from Phil - a look that only prompts another bout of laughter, and I flop back onto the bed behind me. He continues staring, though I can barely see it through my squinted eyes. By the time I manage to get myself under control and sit up, my abs are burning. Phil waits for me to speak, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I can be sure I won’t lose it again.

“You...you know nothing about my past?” I get it out, though I feel the giggles bubbling up at the back of my throat. “This, coming from the immortal being who’s been alive for, how long?” I ask, partly for effect and partly out of curiosity. No matter how old, he’s at least been around for over half a century - he’s robbing the goddamn cradle. The thought starts another fit of giggles, ones I can’t seem to stop.

Phil stares at me for a moment before his mouth starts opening and closing like a fish out of water. Which causes me to collapse back onto the bed, full-on laughter wracking my body again. Before I can question the change in pressure, I feel Phil’s arm next to mine, and he’s laughing as well. It takes us a good three minutes to get ourselves under control, at least enough to speak.

“That,” Phil grins, still laying back on the bed but turned to face me now, “is a very good point,” I smile at him, trying to process the rollercoaster of emotions from the past twenty-four hours. Hell, I think I’ve experienced every single emotion that exists since I woke up in Phil’s arms yesterday.

“How about,” he suggests, and I blink at him, “we play a game,” I squint, then, intrigued but slightly on edge. “We can exchange stories from our past. I’ll tell you something about myself, then you tell me something about you,” There are some parts of my past...some I’m not sure I can talk about.

“It’s okay, I have some like that, too,” Phil must’ve been reading my mind, and I catch a hint of red as he turns his gaze away. “But we can start small, and work our way up to those things,” he rolls so he’s staring right into my eyes, and I do the same.

“Okay,” I say it softly, as if agreeing might open some kind of floodgate to every horrible, terrible piece of my past. “But,” I amend quickly, “please, if we do get into some of...that stuff, promise you won’t read my mind unless I say you can?” I don’t want him sifting through my memories unless I really can’t manage to tell them out loud. He’ll have to tell me his difficult memories out loud, it only seems fair. And I don’t want him to find anything I’m not quite ready to talk about.

“Agreed,” his smile puts the sun to shame, and I lean forward to press our lips together.

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

Phil leads me from the table out onto the dance floor - the floor that’s in exactly the spot the tree would’ve been, had Phil actually found one instead of having to drag my ass back to the diner. A twinge of guilt flickers through me, but I quickly bury it.

The feast was unreal, absolutely delicious - Louise had truly outdone herself, and I made sure to tell her so. As we reach the center of the floor, I realize nobody else has left their tables, despite the soft music now playing in the background.

“Phil, why are we the only ones dancing?” I mumble to him as we sway. He’s grinning, though, and before I can figure out why, his wings have unfurled and he’s lifting us both into the air. I cling to his neck tightly, suddenly a worried about falling.

“I would never let you fall, you don’t have to worry,” his eyes are red shot through with blue, and it’s incredible - I almost forget we’re hovering in the air, until my sights snag on something green at the edge of the ballroom. Trees.

They’re materializing in every corner of the room, dark green pines that rival every majestic Christmas tree farm I’ve ever seen. They aren’t decorated, though, which I chalk up to the differences between our Christmas and whatever they celebrate down here. They’re beautiful, I know Phil can conjure things, but this is...

“Amazing,” I breathe the word out, meeting Phil’s gaze again, and he smiles back at me.

“I could say the same of you,” he presses a chaste kiss to my lips, though he pulls me flush against him and it sends my thoughts spinning.

Just wait til later, he whispers into my head. My cheeks heat up, turning red to match his eyes, and he lets out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

I duck into his chest, leaning against his shoulder. We’re spinning slowly, and I notice the people on the dance floor below us. At first, I worry we’re making such a spectacle of ourselves, floating in the air like this, but we turn just enough that I see Ollie pulling Wendell into the air gracefully - though Wendell looks a bit flustered at being dragged away from coordinating the event for a dance.

In minutes, others have joined us in the air - those with abilities that allow it - and the tables are almost empty as the others dance below us. I can hear Phil’s heart beating against my ear, and I sigh contentedly.

This is something I could get used to.

#fic update #demons and diners #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dnp #dan and phil #danielhowell #dan howell #phil lester #amazingphil #demon!phil #angst

2 notes · View notes

aceb133 · 7 years

Text

Wholesome Week 2, Day 4: Roll for Initiative

Because what’s more wholesome than D&D?

Long-ish story below!

With a weary sigh of resignation, Marco knew it was the end.

He’d done everything he could to prepare for this moment. He’d learned to wield a sword and hold a shield. He’d spent a lifetime honing his abilities and his reflexes. He’d recruited followers and allies. And he’d even considered multi-classing into Monk.

But, as he watched the die roll across the table, he knew none of that mattered now.

“A two!” Alfonso shouted, raising his arms in triumph. “You fail to dodge the dragon’s powerful flame breath! In an instant, you are incinerated to a crisp, your burned armor serving as a warning to future adventurers to come.”

“Ah, lame!” Ferguson said, collapsing in his seat. “Marco, dude, I told you that your character needed more dex.”

“Well it’s not like that would’ve done anything when I can’t roll anything higher than a ten!” Marco said. “That lousy die has been trying to kill me all night!”

“And at last, it has succeeded.” Alfonso said sagely.

Marco groaned, and leaned back in his seat. He’d spent two weeks coming up with this character, writing an elaborate backstory, coming up with an ideal level progression, and even scoping the internet for a cool character portrait. It was supposed to be his marquee character, the one he’d reminisce about in the decades to come. And his reward for all that work, of course, was managing to get killed in the first encounter of Alfonso’s new campaign.

Staring at the ceiling, he could do nothing but shake his head. Frankly, he should have seen it coming.

“Well Ferguson,” Alfonso said, “I believe you have initiative.”

Ferguson picked up a die, and contemplated it for a moment. “Well, with my comrade in arms deceased, I have no other choice. I cast Magic Miss-“

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Marco twisted his head. To his surprise, Star, Jackie, and Janna walked in, each one sharing identical looks of disgust.

“Star! Jackie!” Marco said, standing up in a panic. “I thought you guys went to the movies!”

“We did.” Janna said. “The sewer line underneath the theater blew just before the opening credits. There was… urgh, I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“That sounds incredibly gross.” Ferguson said. “Say, did you bring any popcorn back?”

Star ignored him, and walked over to where the trio was sitting. “Marco, you didn’t tell me you were playing a game tonight,” she said, looking over the piles of rulebooks, character sheets, graphing paper, and dice. “Or… is this a game? I see dice, but I don’t see a board anywhere.”

Jackie followed close behind, and Marco caught a flare of recognition in her eyes. “Oh dude, is this D&D? I’ve always wanted to play that!”

“Wait, you want to-I mean, really?” Marco said, caught in the transition between embarrassment and relief.

“Yeah, we used to play every week.” Ferguson said proudly. “I had a level fourteen warlock, myself. He could kill a man with a stare.”

“Used to?” Janna asked, leaning against the wall. “What made you stop?”

Alfonso shrugged. “Oh, you know, school and stuff. And plus, Marco started hanging out with Star a lot more, so we couldn’t find time to play.”

“Marco, you should have told me!” Star said, her voice laced with concern. “I’m so sorry I broke up your alphabet game!”

Marco shook his head. “Nah, Star, don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s not your fault, it just kinda happened.”

“I have got to make it up to you, though!” Star said. “Are you playing now? Could I join?”

Marco turned to Alfonso and Ferguson, who both shrugged.

“It’s not like the campaign’s going anywhere now, what with you being dead and all.” Ferguson said.

“Plus, I do have a one-shot I’ve been wanting to run.” Alfonso added.

Marco smiled. “Well, I guess that’s a-“

“YES!” Star said, hopping over a chair and sitting down at the table. Quickly, she turned back to Jackie and Janna and waved them over. “Come on! Let’s all play, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh man, totally!” Jackie said, and walked over to sit next to Marco. Janna merely shrugged, but pushed herself off the wall, grabbed a chair, and sat down next to Star.

As the players shuffled to make room around the table, Star looked down and closely examined the array of playing materials before her.

“So, how does this work?” she asked, picking up Marco’s twenty-sided die.

“Well first, you gotta make a character.” Ferguson said. “I’m Fergon the Wise, an elvish mage from the lost city of Gracemeria, who seeks to restore the lost Talisman of Estovakia.”

Star’s eyes twinkled at Ferguson’s description of his character. “Wow”, she said, “That sounds so cool! How do I make a character?”

“Well first, you have to roll for your ability scores.” Alfonso began.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then, you have to pick your race. Each race gives you a modifier to your ability score, and some have special abilities.”

“Okay,”

“Then, you pick your class, which, depending on your level, determines your base attack bonus, your fort, reflex, and will saves, and your abilities available at each level.”

“Yeah…”

“It also tells you how much health you have, and how many skill points you get per level. A druid, for example, gets four plus your intelligence modifier, multiplied by four.”

All of the enthusiasm had drained from Star’s face, and she looked as though she was only moments away from falling asleep on the table. “Urgh, this sounds like math. Aren’t games supposed to be fun?”

Marco shrugged apologetically. “I mean, there’s a bit of math, but it’s really not hard. And plus, when you’re actually playing the game, it’s a lot of fun!”

Reaching across the table, he picked up a copy of the player’s handbook, and began to open it. “Here, I can help you-“

Star smiled, and stood up. “No thanks, Marco, I’ve got a better idea.” She then pulled out her wand, and Marco’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.

“Star-“

Star pointed it at the player’s handbook Marco held in his hands, and wand began to crackle and glow with magic energy.

“STAR NO-“

“Mystical Game Adventure Transform!” Star shouted. For an instant, nothing happened-and then, the entire room vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

----------

Marco groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. His head was pounding, and his body was sore. As he struggled to open his eyes, he scoured his groggy brain for any memory of what had just happened. The last thing he remembered was Star casting some kind of spell-but everything after that was darkness.

As he opened his eyes, he was instantly blinded by the sun above him. Instinctively, he reached out his hand to shield his eyes-and suddenly, noticed his hand was covered by an armored gauntlet.

Jolted to full consciousness by the sight, Marco scrambled to sit up, and looked down at himself. His body was fully covered in a combination of leather armor, metal plate, and chainmail, and on the ground next to him was a long, steel sword.

“Oh Star, what did you do this time?” Marco said aloud, and startled himself with the sound of his own voice-far deeper and rougher than it had been only a few minutes prior.

Slowly, Marco stood up, examining himself. Right away, he noticed that he was at least a foot and a half taller than he’d been previously, and his face was covered in a short, rough beard. He could feel new muscles bulging against his armor in his arms and chest, and the armor itself-though obviously heavy-hardly felt like it weighed him down at all.

Leaning down, Marco picked up the sword, and examined it closely. It was a straight, double-edged blade, with a series of elaborate runes engraved down its length. Near the base, an elaborate portrait of a dragon had carefully been carved from the metal, its talons poised and ready to strike.

Marco stared. He knew exactly what this sword was-The Dragon’s Tooth, a two-hundred year old artifact passed down over generations from father to son. And, as a +2 Flaming Longsword he’d come up with for his D&D character, the only place it should’ve existed was in Marco’s imagination.

Panicking, Marco looked around frantically, searching for any sign of Star or his other friends. He appeared to be in some kind of swamp, a dank, murky area filled with the sight and sound of thousands of flying insects, chirping birds, croaking frogs, and other unseen creatures.

“Hello?” he said, looking around desperately. “Star? Jackie? Ferg?”

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched scream coming from behind him. Clutching his sword, Marco turned and raced through the brush, his eyes darting all around as he searched for the source of the noise.

Then, as he emerged into a clearing that was little more than a raised patch of damp, black dirt that rose above the fetid swamp waters around it, he stopped. Backed up against an ancient willow tree was what appeared to be a fat old elf, with a tall cap as pointy as his ears and a long, wooden staff lying beside him. Marco noticed that the elf hadn’t noticed him approach, and seemed obsessed with marveling over his own long, white beard.

Marco approached cautiously, his sword at the ready. “Ferguson? Is that you?”

The elf turned, and beneath the wrinkles and whispers Marco could easily see the contours of his friend’s face. “Marco! Is that you?” Slowly, the elf got up, brushing the dirt and filth off his long, threadbare robe. “You look awesome!”

“Thanks,” Marco said. “You look… uh…”

“Awesome too, right?” Ferguson boasted. “Just check out this beard! And that hat! I’m like some kind of wizard!”

“I think you are a wizard, Ferg.” Marco said. “Star’s spell must have somehow turned us into our characters in Al’s game.” He looked around the swamp, searching for any sign of recognizable landscape. “Though I certainly don’t remember this area. We ever go to some kind of swamp?”

“I do not believe we have.” Ferguson said, shrugging. “Maybe we’re in that one-shot he kept talking about running?”

“Maybe.” Marco said. “Do you remember what-Ferg, look out!”

Shocked, Ferguson spun around, and saw something emerging from the bog behind him. Slowly, a rotting head began to emerge from the muck, followed quickly by a set of withered arms and an emaciated torso. The mere sight of the rotting corpse sent a wave of nausea through Marco, and he staggered back at the horrific apparition.

“WHAT IS THAT THING?” Ferguson shouted, hiding behind Marco.

“I don’t know, it must be some kind of ghoul or something!” Marco replied. The creature was now freeing its legs from the muck, and its dead, rotting eyes were locked on to Marco. As it took its first step forward, its jaw dropped open, and it unleashed an unearthly howl.

This was more than enough for Marco. Shouting incoherently, he lunged forward with his sword, swinging it into the creature with all his might. As the tip of the blade cut across the creature’s chest, a ribbon of flame curled out from the wound, and the creature staggered back, howling with pain as its chest caught alight. Immediately, Marco swung again, and this time the blade cut straight through the creature’s festering neck. The flaming body dropped to the ground as the head went flying back into the swamp, landing in a nearby pool with a deep sploosh.

Breathing heavily, Marco stood there for a moment, not quite believing what he had done. Then, Ferguson ran up from behind him, and patted him on the back.

“Dude, that was so awesome!” Ferguson said. “You were like ‘slice’, and that monster was like, ‘bleagh’, and you were-“

“Ferg, hold it.” Marco said. Looking around the swamp, he could see bubbles rising from the waters around them, and dark shapes beginning to emerge from below. “I don’t think it’s over yet.”

Marco raised his sword, and scanned the area around them, just waiting for the first monster to make its move. “Which, Ferg, what spells do you have prepared?”

“Spells?” Ferguson said, momentarily confused. “Oh, spells! Well, I should have, uh… oh shoot, where’s my character sheet…”

“Seriously? You can’t even remember what spells you have?” Marco shouted. Heads were already beginning to pop out from the waters below, and Marco knew there was no way he could take on that many monsters by himself.

“Dude, I’m sorry, I can’t perform under this kind of pressure!” Ferguson shouted back.

Marco groaned, and took up a defensive stance, his eyes darting across the swamp. These ghouls were emerging more quickly than the last, and the first of them were already beginning to stagger ashore.

Suddenly, Ferguson snapped his fingers. “Wait! I know what I’ve got!” Grabbing his staff from the ground, he confidently pointed it at the nearest creature and bellowed with a powerful voice, “I cast magic missile!”

A small part of Marco didn’t expect anything to happen-but his fears were quickly dashed when a red ball of energy burst out from the staff and exploded against a ghoul’s chest. With a ragged roar of pain, the ghoul collapsed backwards into the swamp, quickly sinking back below the surface.

Ferguson whooped, and raised his staff. “Yeah, take that you monster!”

“It’s not over yet!” Marco shouted, and turned to see a pair of ghouls approaching from his left. Running forward, he slashed his sword at the first ghoul, keeping a firm clutch on the grip with both hands. The edge bit deeply into the monster’s arm, spraying both Marco and his opponent with a stream of black, congealed blood. Before Marco could attack again, the other ghoul shuffled up and swiped at him, raking his chest with a set of wicked, curved claws. Marco gasped with pain as the sharp claws cut through his leather armor and into his chest, leaving a series of painful, bloody streaks.

Stepping back, Marco slashed again with his sword, striking against the first ghoul’s leg. With a groan, the ghoul fell to the ground, flailing slowly. Then, sidestepping the other monster’s next attack, he slammed the pommel of his blade into the back of the creature’s head, sending it crashing to the ground Before it could react, Marco flipped his sword and stabbed it downwards, plunging it directly into the undead monster’s brain. The creature shuddered once, and exhaled a shallow, rasping breath, and died.

Looking up, Marco saw Ferguson continuing to blast ghouls emerging from the swamp, sending them crashing back into the water. But Marco knew there was only so much they could do by themselves-there were dozens more creatures emerging from the swamp, and it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed.

Suddenly, a massive impact against his back sent Marco crashing to the ground. Rolling over, he saw another ghoul standing over him, its mouth open and dripping putrid saliva. Before Marco could react to the new threat, however, the ghoul’s head was severed from its body. As it collapsed to the ground, the headless corpse revealed the form of what could only be Star Butterfly standing behind it. She looked older and stouter than she typically did, and the few parts of her body that weren’t covered in massive animal skins were adorned with tattoos and scars. In her rough, calloused hands, she held a massive battleaxe, and she growled ferociously as she spied the oncoming horde of ghouls before her.

Marco propped himself up on his elbows, hardly believing what he was seeing. “Star?”

“Marco?” Star said, confused. It took a moment for her to recognize the man on the ground in front of her, but the second she did her face broke into a massive, toothy grin. “Marco! You look… different.”

“Thanks.” Marco said, and raised his hand. Star grabbed it, and Marco winced as his hand was crushed in her powerful grip. She quickly pulled him to his feet

quickly pulled him up, nearly ripping his arm out of its socket and crushing his hand in her powerful grip. “You look-“

“Ripped, right?” Star said proudly. “Man, I don’t know what kind of game this is Marco, but it’s pretty fun so-duck!”

Marco instinctively dipped his head down only moments before a pale, fetid arm swung above it, swiping through his hair. Turning back and raising his sword to face the ghoul, Marco dashed forward and stabbed the creature in the chest, setting it aflame. Raising his boot, he kicked the creature in the stomach, freeing his sword and sending the ghoul crashing to the ground.

“Sick move, Marco!” Turning again, Marco saw Janna and Jackie approaching, their own weapons raised. Jackie was clearly a ranger of some kind, clad in a dark-green tunic and holding a pair of short swords in her hands, with a longbow strung across her back. Like Ferguson, she had pointed ears, though they didn’t seem quite as pointy or as prominent. Janna, meanwhile, looked about the same as she always did, with the exception of the pair of curved daggers she held in her hands.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Jackie!” Marco said awkwardly.

Star elbowed him in the arm, grinning. “Hey, save some for the rest of us, huh?”

“GUYS? A LITTLE HELP?”

Looking up, Marco saw Ferguson backing up nervously, facing down a half-dozen ghouls that were lurching towards him. Turning back to Star, Janna, and Jackie, Marco smiled, and raised his sword.

“Alright guys,” he said, “Let’s play some D&D!”

#wholesomeweek2 #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #dungeons and dragons #D&D #fast writing bad writing #fanfic #man it's been too long since I've played a good ol' game of D&D #Marco Diaz

53 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

satellite-starss

Satellite

tueip

tµ£!p

sklep-wedkarski-carpmix-pl

Sklep wędkarski Carpmix.pl

breannastewart

coldknights

time sucker