#pretend these match bc the lighting kept changing
Photo
she looks like a powerpuff girl !!
#kep1er#bahiyyih#huening bahiyyih#kep1erwork#kep1ernet#kep1ernetwork#dazzlingidolsedit#gif*#ggroupsdaily#femaleidolsedit#usermowah#slowrabbitpd#wabisarah#userfairy#pretend these match bc the lighting kept changing#(and i hate the colouring but hey)#pink haired princess......#moonlight 🌙
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my spencer reid headcanons
(when a happy one matches a sad one, they’ll be matching colours)
also tw - vague mention of suicide, drug addiction, disordered eating mention (never anything graphic)
happy/cute
- Garcia and the rest of the team would leave little sticky notes around his desk and normally they’d just make him smile but when he was having a rough day they’d literally make him tear up with happiness
- he’s obscenely good at present giving, because he simultaneously remembers everything that people say they like and also has his ridiculous knowledge of what exists out there
- one week (it coincided with him being clean for 5 years, he never made the connection) he walked into the briefing room and every member of the team was dressed exactly as him. he kept trying to bring it up and everybody pretended they had no idea what he was on about. it became their BAU group chat icon for years.
- one of the best days of his life was when garcia took him dog walking with her, he got to just wander around with 6 dogs all day
- jack grows to adore him just as much as henry does. spencer hangs around a lot because him and hotch are usually the ones without anyone to hang out with at the weekend, and he takes jack to the museum with henry and michael all the time. jack ends up being a lot more like spencer than he imagined (which both terrifies and delights hotch)
- Spencer has never actually attended a graduation, despite having graduated from various degrees like 10+ times. when the BAU (Alex probably) finds out, they all force him into a gown and rock up to cheer him
- they liked to play trivia games where it was spencer vs the rest of the team, but someone (i’m thinking emily) picks up that it makes him feel left out. they then take turns being on spencer’s team. one month, the non-spencer team beats them and the joy it gives them makes him smile for a week
- garcia learns how to make mocktails and without fail, will make a huge jug for him anytime the rest are drinking alcohol but make sure they’re fun flavours so he gets just as much excitement as everyone else
- after Diana is moved to Virginia, the team become really close to her. JJ takes the boys to hang out with her because she’s always loved children (and Diana sometimes thinks Henry is a young Spencer, which makes JJ worry about how Spencer will react but he’s just sitting here grinning with tears in his eyes because he’s finally getting to see his mom be the mom he knew she could be)
- the BAU love his glasses, and there’s a competition to get a photo of him with them on, but he’s very good at avoiding cameras. After one case in a hotel they even try to hide his contact solution to force him to wear them (amateurs - he definitely keeps a spare box in his coat). There eventually is a single photo of them wearing them, but all members of the BAU fail. Spencer is babysitting Henry, who is distraught about having to wear glasses to school. Spencer gives up trying to comfort him and just takes his contact lenses out and switches them for glasses. Henry is super shocked but so happy that he matches his favourite person, so Spencer takes a photo of the two of them so that Henry can put it next to his bed
- he gets a cat after prison, it’s a tabby cat that is the light of his life, and the cat is just heavy enough that when Spencer gets it to sit on his lap that cat can be used a grounding pressure
—————————————————
angsty/sad
- developed disordered eating habits that started from him always being super underweight as a child bc he couldn’t afford food and then when he got to college he started to eat properly and put on actually healthy weight but he was so adverse to change that it freaked him out
- one of the roughest days at the BAU, after all the obvious terrible times, was when Morgan and Hotch was just having a casual conversation about how they’d helped Strauss with her addiction and it just broke him. he ended up hiding under Garcia’s desk and he’d only speak to her and Emily (as the only people I think ever actually helped him) and was non verbal, once they finally got him out into the office he refused to speak to either of them and was just stimming with garcia comforting him (once he started talking again he whispered why he was so upset to emily, and she joined him in his glaring at them every time he looked at them. morgan and hotch never really worked it out and eventually reid just gave up on being upset because he knew it couldn’t change what happened)
- spencer has never walked across the stage at graduation, but that doesn’t mean he never went to a graduation. his first degree his mom promised she’d come, but ended up not leaving the house. he stood to the side of the stage in his gown trying not to cry before just going back home and having the diploma mailed to him
- he relapsed in prison. he considered his sobriety over after the events in Mexico, and so just briefly gave up when one of the inmates offered him some. as soon as Garcia came to visit him, he broke down and never did it again. he never told Morgan and so he still got a text every year on the day he first got clean, which he thought he’d absolutely hate but ended up finding comfort in because even if the “happy 12 years sobriety, kid” should have been “happy 2 years sobriety, kid”, it reminded him that he’d done it before and could do it again
- after maeve died and they came round to help him clean his apartment, he was really proud of himself for being able to put her book on the shelf and feel like he’s moving on. and then the next day he was getting ready to go to work properly for the first time and he was just getting more and more terrified and anxious and then started to spiral because the longer he panicked the later he was. and it reminded him of how scared maeve had been to come outside to meet him at the restaurant but she’d done it anyway, and he put the book in his bag and found it a lot easier to leave the house after that
- Spencer is so goddamn bitter about them not helping him get clean, and he mentions it whenever he can. In a angry-but-never-let-himself-be-angry way, he takes some justification in seeing the team squirm with guilt. one day he’s listing symptoms of withdrawal for a case, and just starts to go like “another symptom is intense muscle pain, which for me was definitely the worst” or “yeah nausea is real bad, not that you’d know I guess” like he’s exhausted and pissed off and just gives up any pretence of subtlety
- when Diana dies, the whole team rally around Reid more than he could imagine. They all organise the funeral basically for him, and Garcia constantly cooks for him, and at least one person sleeps on his sofa each night in case he needs them. By week two he’s doing okay, and he quickly realises they’re doing it for themselves more than him, because they’re so desperate to let him know how loved he is. It’s still one of the worst weeks of his life, but it’s bearable and that’s purely down to him never having to feel lonely
- there’s a reason he knew exactly what to do when he walked in on Nathan Harris, and that’s because he’s done it with his mom, except that time he was 12 and his dad had just left and he just sat there covered in blood waiting for the ambulance, and whilst promising the paramedics that his dad was on his way home so that social services wouldn’t turn up, he read countless books on medical treatment so that next time he wouldn’t be so hopeless
- I respectfully disagree with the line where he’s like “this is my first meeting” at the Beltway clean cops, I’m convinced he would drive two hours to a meeting miles away so he could truly be anonymous and sit curled up in a chair and cry in meetings without even the slightest chance of seeing someone he knew
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Redesigned some ocs :D
The taller one is Tanwyn and the one with green hair is named Nora.
Nora
- used to have an imaginary friend that looked like a moth and called him Winnie
- they were inseparable until she grew up and forgot about him
she and Winnie liked to pretend that they were camping in her backyard. When she was around 8 years old, they tried to make a little bonfire with some real fire to match the small tent and log seats that her parents put up. It was in the middle of the night so both her parents were sleeping when she went into the kitchen. She found the matchbox and tried to light one of the sticks out of curiosity, as she hadn't had the opportunity to use one before. Winnie came up behind her to see if she had the things they needed but his voice startled her, causing her to drop the match stick. It fell on one of the kitchen towels, spreading the fire and burning down most of the house. She and her dad survived but her mom passed away from smoke inhalation. Her dad tried his best to raise her on his own but she couldn't stop blaming herself. After this incident she couldn't bring herself to look at Winnie and she slowly stopped being able to see him
Tanwyn/Winnie
- a young sylph that ended up befriending Nora and is 1 year younger than her
- was very shy about showing his face so always wore a moth mask whenever he met her
he was heartbroken when Nora stopped acknowledging him. His parents and siblings never paid attention to him so the only one that used to talk to him was Nora. His actual personality was a lot more cold and ruthless but when played with Nora, it felt a lot easier to let his walls down and be happy. After 2 decades, he shows himself again to her
- based his design off a poodle moth
Here's some of my old art that I mishmashed into creating Tanwyn and Nora. As you can see, baby Ela didn't believe in drawing eyebrows 😔😔 The moth and the pink haired elf (his name was Matthias) used to be two different ocs but I combined their character designs and personalities into Tanwyn. Tanwyn uses his wings as a cloak bc it's big and fluffy enough to keep him warm. The fluff on his shoulders and chest is just a normal fur scarf to keep in the moth theme with how it resembles a moth's thorax. Nora I kept mostly the same, atleast for her childhood personality but I sprinkled in some trauma to make both of them suffer haha whoops :D I changed her hairstyle too.
#I would've kept Matthias' pink hair but I realized that with the fur cape sharp ears and pink hair#he'd look too much like how some people draw that one m*necr*ft y*tuber dude#(no hate but I really wouldn't appreciate getting my ocs compared lol)#my art#oc#my ocs#original character#original characters
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Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi
Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous
Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist
rules
warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end.
Hawks/Keigo Takami
-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day.
-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted.
-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts.
-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed.
- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”
- “No, no just you.”
-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok.
-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door.
-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger.
-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there.
-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth.
- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”
-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth.
-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.
-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment.
- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”
- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”
-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.
-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence.
-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you.
- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.”
-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him.
- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.”
- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes?
- “Dude you’re taking it too far-”
- “Stay away from them!”
-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.
-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose.
-But then you saw it.
-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever.
-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints.
-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it.
-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit.
-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door.
-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you.
-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.
-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door.
- “Y/N, dove, open up.”
-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush.
-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad.
- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you.
- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.”
-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked.
Todoroki Shoto
-Poor man had merely gone to get take out.
-He hadn’t been gone for that long.
-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in.
-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.
-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.
-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall.
-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born.
-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins.
- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”
- “But what-”
- “Rei do I make myself clear?”
-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand.
-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you.
- “Can I help you gentlemen?”
-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets.
-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one.
-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest.
-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.
-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk.
-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all.
- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?”
-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you.
- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”
- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”
-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.
-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man.
-Rei was having none of it.
-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you.
-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position.
-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.
- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”
-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg.
-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs.
-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest.
- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”
-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor.
- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”
Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*
-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos.
-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still.
-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you.
-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.
-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them.
-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open.
-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi.
-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived.
-Neither of these things happened so something was up.
-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves.
-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds.
-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth.
- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”
-You were livid.
-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass.
-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them.
-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you.
- “See easy as hell.”
- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.”
-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks.
- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.”
- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?”
-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor.
-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter.
- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”
- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.”
- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.”
- “Yeah you should probably let her go.”
-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men.
-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you.
-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.
-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them.
-You were hungry anyways.
- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”
TAG TEAM AY:
@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @bemorefiction @ezoyscorner
#hawks#keigo takami#dad hawks#dad keigo takami#hawks x reader#hawks x you#hawks x y/n#hawks x pregnant reader#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami x you#keigo takami x y/n#todoroki#todoroki shoto#todoroki x you#todoroki x y/n#todoroki x reader#shoto x you#shoto x y/n#shoto x reader#dad todoroki#todoroki x pregnant reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#dabi x reader#dad dabi#dabi#dabi bnha#dabi is a todoroki#bnha#bnha x you
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Care
Star: Son Hyejoo (Loona)
Idea: Yes
Love: Hello~i love your works so much, it's so good istg im not even kidding, I hope you have/had a great day though<3 I just want to ask since a hyejoo imagine where fem reader tells her to at least take a rest because she's exhuasted lately bcs she's been pushing herself (literally all of them is, bbc isn't doing anything) also with her knee injury is taking a toll :<< and tells her to take a rest and takes care of her. Fluff pls😭
A/n: Such kind words
Every step they took worried you, each time you would see them flinch, or look down on their knees as they went off stage.
Though, as much as you were concerned about everyone, your eyes were only drawn to one person, following her every move, concerned that any second she could fall. You knew it wasn’t likely, but it didn’t ease your worries when they had finished.
She knelt on the ground, her face stoic, a chic look on her face. Until the camera moved away.
She let her expression drop, closing her eyes as she breathed out deeply. You stood up from your place, walking past the staff to their waiting room. You were the first one in, sitting on the couch as you waited.
When you heard the chatter behind the door, you looked up. You smiled at each one as they entered, congratulating them on their successful performance.
"Everyone did great!" you commented, raising your thumbs while they smiled back,
"Were you really watching us? As far as I could tell, you only had your eyes on one of us," Hyunjin commented, squinting her eyes, teasingly, while the others laughed at the cat's comment.
A light blush spread on your cheeks, punching her playfully on the shoulder before you padded over to your girlfriend.
Hyejoo was seated on the couch, drinking a bottle of water before wiping her sweat. You took a seat on the table in front of her, looking down at her knees as you cringed, seeing the blood trailing down. You clicked your tongue and looked around, seeing a box of tissues behind you.
Reaching for it, you carefully tapped her knee, careful as to not press too hard, while the girl let you. She only moved her knee when you went to rub it slightly,
"It hurts," you heard her mutter, pushing your hand away. Though you held her wrist.
"It’ll be done in a second," you murmured, focused on your task while Hyejoo closed her eyes, absorbing the slight sting that would come once in a while.
When you finished both knees, you sighed, taking both of her hands in yours. You knew it brought the girl comfort, even though the countless times she pretended to hate the skinship, you could read her eyes easily to know when she needed it.
Right now, you could see the way her eyes softened, feeling her squeeze your hands, a breath escaping her lips as she closed her eyes for a moment.
It was almost as if you two only existed in the room. Thankfully, her members weren’t in the mood for teasing as they busied themselves with packing and changing.
They could see both of you, discreet smiles on their faces, but they let you two have your time knowing that you’ve spent far too long being apart.
"You have to take it easy, Hyejoo," you whispered after a while, rubbing circles on the back of her palms, the latter furrowing her eyebrows at the comment.
"I’m fine,"
She reasoned, a sigh withdrawing from your lips as you looked at her. Who could she fool?
The dark circles under her eyes, the way her voice was getting raspier, and the sluggish movements she would make when both of you got home.
It was all a sign that she was getting tired and, while she would continue to utter that she was fine, everything else proved her otherwise.
"Hyejoo," you started, but she sighed before you could say anything further,
"Y/n, I’m fine, it’s only a few more days till we’re done. I promise as soon as we are done promoting, I’ll rest,"
You stared at her for a while, looking into her eyes, you knew she was stubborn. Oftentimes, it was the reason why you wanted to take care of her, the way she wouldn’t stop for anything.
Though, as much as she wanted to keep going, you also saw the tiredness in her eyes, so with a sigh, you nodded.
Pulling her as you left a kiss on her forehead, giving her one more squeeze before letting your girlfriend change.
When Hyejoo left the room, a sigh escaped your lips before meeting their leader’s eyes. Haseul looked at you with a smile, having seen the exchange between her member.
It made her happy, knowing that someone else could take care of her friend like she does and more. She always relied on you to make Hyejoo happy. Though she had no issues in that regard, the older girl was glad that you could make her happier.
As long as Hyejoo was in your hands, she had nothing to worry about.
Soon enough, a week had already gone by. The girls had finished promoting, which meant that it was time for them to get the rest that they needed.
Hyejoo was at the dorms, packing her things since she decided that she would want to spend some time with you during their break.
Her members had no qualms about it since most of them had no plans, and they could always come to visit if they wanted to.
You adjusted your glasses, as you continued your work in your room when the door opened. You raised your head at the intruder, knowing that you didn’t have anyone over. When you saw the familiar brown hair, you stood up with a smile.
You padded towards Hyejoo and opened your arms, which your girlfriend didn’t refuse. Entering your embrace as she reveled in your warmth, resting her head on your chest, she sighed.
Feeling your arms circling her body. You closed your eyes, letting the silence settle as you left a kiss on her forehead, resting your cheek on top of her head. Both of you stood there for a while, no words exchanged.
Hyejoo was unmoving, sighing whilst she felt you rub her back. Even if both of you were the same height, she felt so small in your arms.
The way you would occasionally leave kisses on her forehead when you whisper sweet nothings, and the warmth you would give her every time you cuddle.
You kept her in your arms before you took a step to the right, then the left. Alternate steps, since Hyejoo had her eyes closed, she thought you brought her to your bed. But after a few minutes, she heard you hum quietly as you continued slowly swaying side-to-side.
Another breath left her lips, everything felt so satisfying
By the end of the day, she was able to come to you when she sought comfort, happiness, and someone to support her. You will always be the most amazing girlfriend ever, she couldn’t put into words how much you mean to her.
She would always feel bad that you were the only one to make sacrifices, but each time she felt that way, you would always say the same thing.
Cupping her cheek and staring into her eyes, "I love you now, I’ll love you tomorrow, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life."
It always successfully flustered her, a bright tinge of pink on her cheeks, which only seemed to grow when you smiled at her.
"I didn’t notice you came in," you whispered, withdrawing from her partially, still keeping your arms around her hips.
"Are you busy with work?" she asked, a look forming in her eyes, but you were quick to stop her, placing a finger on her nose, taking her attention from her thoughts.
"I can go to work later, I’m almost done. We can rest for a while," you said, Hyejoo sighing since she couldn’t stop you. Sometimes both of you were alike, completely stubborn.
You led her to bed, both of you moving to your sides before meeting in the middle. You rested your back against the headboard, while Hyejoo leaned against your chest, playing around with your hair as both of you let the silence set in.
A few minutes later, you heard a yawn, looking down at your girlfriend, you met her eyes. She rested her chin on your chest as she looked back at you.
"Do you want to sleep?" You asked, seeing the nod, you caressed her head, leaving another kiss on her forehead.
"You can rest," you told her, but Hyejoo shook her head, seeing the furrow in her eyebrows before she smiled, reaching up to remove your glasses, folding them, and placing them on her nightstand.
"Nap with me," you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face, shifting down to lay on the bed, your girlfriend taking her place in your arms, head resting in the crook of your neck, half of her body on top of yours.
It was these kinds of moments that made you happy. Even through every challenge you two faced together, you were happy that there was always a good ending.
Rewarding moments where both of you did nothing except bask in each other, it almost felt better to spend a long time apart, that way, when you two come together again, you can cherish it more.
--
Bright lights shone in her eyes, a groan slipping past her lips as she opened them.
Hyejoo adjusted her vision, waking up as she took in her surroundings. She took note of the dark ceiling, matching the small stars that were littered all over, acting as the night sky as some of them sparkled because of the sun.
She turned to the side, seeing you sleeping peacefully. Throughout the night, you moved in your sleep, turning to your side as you faced the girl.
Hyejoo took the time to observe your features, from your soft brown hair to your eyes, your cute button nose and your pink lips. It baffled her sometimes that you always thought she was the prettiest.
But it was always you that she thought was the prettiest in the world. No word could describe you, no number could rate you, and no one could ever compare to you.
As subtle as she could, Hyejoo raised her hand, shuffling it under yours before interlocking your fingers. A smile formed on her lips when she felt you squeeze her unconsciously. She placed a kiss on the back of your hand, putting all the love and gratitude she could ever give.
A few minutes later, she felt you shift, opening your eyes as you met hers. A smile forms on your lips, the smile she never knew she would be addicted to.
#girl group#girl group scenarios#girl group imagines#loona#loona imagines#loona scenarios#loona hyejoo#hyejoo#son hyejoo#hyejoo imagines#hyejoo scenarios#olivia hye#loona olivia hye#olivia hye imagines#olivia hye scenarios
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Cathartic- Yellow Metal Lyrics
Heres where I am with the lyrics, I referenced @25Goldenn on twitter for some of it that I couldn’t comprehend.
*music*
0:23
Dark matter, like painted splatters, they fit better, the old saying, the way it goes, better the devil you do then you don’t know. I hit pedals and switch levers, my heart metal, I can't settle, im part trouble, they are not subtle. I fuck good so fuck cuddles, burst bubbles the thrist levels at new heights, i down doubles, and got baked til I felt high, my face puzzled, felt muddled, far strung and your floors woodent, the thought might but the fit wouldn’t. A fortnight
0:46 - 1:00
And I thought right, it’s all bark and no bite, I’m Tony Stark still embarking on a dream, took a bit of time to take darkness from the team. Seen what I saw. Heartless on the sleeve. Tried to burn my wings, so I put them in a piece on my chest , at peace no rest.
1:00-1:15
Flipped this on it’s head. Rip the script up now, flip it don’t pretend, slipping shit again, Fakers all around me, I’ve been living in pretense. Fake friends won’t make amends. There’s no need, these mean comments control the scenes. Attentionseekers, the spine is weakened
1:15-1:24
This family needs, what a family needs, and the planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving til we ascend so fuck the fence, and until they stop killing colour it’s fuck the feds.
1:22 - 1:44
You must be off it, I mean it, you know you ain’t never get with the judging and I used to dread growing my beard too long, never felt I belonged, but it's really long like a minute I ain’t looking to no mans for the limits, They’re feeling timid, I’m telling them who they mimic, why they don't look like a clinic …. Why they don't get no women, Still, we’re just fucking girls, Lost in the wrong world, Jurassic, now to this vermin
1:41- 1: 50
Kicking the game I’m serving, these losers are never learning, my fire is forever burning, adding it to my fuel, seems like I’m always focused on never becoming you, These locals that rob us feeling … was for a reason.
1:52-2:02
I’m seeing my new beginnings, watch out this loser’s winning, and no water is too deep to swim in Like I’m about to see a killing, I’m all the way that and living, flawless and feeling lawless, the prison now to the gimmicks, my vision is set to something,
2:03-:2:20
I’m watching you bitches plummet, no matches here for my cunning, you rappers are feeling done in, switching your genre, running and Running your jaw, stunting, pulling at straws, something I think you’re a poor effort, deaf and tone deaf and I ain’t treat you separate. Living, I’m in my element, riding it like a … never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a benadryl. Keeping it green in general
2:20- 2:46
Think that you remain irrelevant. Look at yourself with reverence, hoping to always elevate. Celibate of these thoughts, killing themselves with sedatives. In comparison to eminem, you’re feeling feminine. Impolitically correct, still dropping on my dick. And I never gave a fuck about what they say abt my shit, I’ve been moving things in my mind like it’s this mountain dew Memories have made me wonder if one day I’m after you. What’s the purpose that you do, is what you're hoping that they learn, i’d like to say i’m done but it’s getting up on my nerves
2:46 -2:55
I’m looking at my life, saying what do I deserve. It’s hard to say I know when I’m walking through the dirt. Talking while you’re nothing I can see for what it’s worth. I’m tired of feeling hurt and I’ve tried enough but nothing works.
2:55-3:40
I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work. Chit chatting is the usual, talking to this clerk, i beg you don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt so everytime they see me, the oldest know to swerve. SWERVE Life is potent, bits of fucked shit… till they took notice weren’t no hocus pocus, it was hard work that got me heard so i put in the graph like google maps but the whole earth
… around my door mat, taking over like the drones, rolling dirt up in miles like the water, and exploding like Annas hematoma. Don't need to see a slammer to know that I don't want to go man
I’m a showman. I’m just focused on the drama… like i’ve got my own insurance, show myself the pain, like i boxed it in the frame, if we’re about to talk greatness im great, the way you have to say my name like beyonce
“Say my name”
4:00-4:46
Just a bum with a cigarette, sun coming up, all my thoughts on the internet. Feeling deep, I’m just bored with the silhouette single sec, get fucked up for the thrill of it . killer streak playing Pacman. Like I came from the Philippines vanilla bean still a thing for the thrill of scene,
Theres a beam, UFO, Leave it well alone I aint moving, stood still on the peloton, telephone and its always on the dial tone, it's been a while since i’ve smiled at a milestone, seen a big pile in my mind stone, me against the world on my Jack Jones, Like I’m John Jones, With pictures in the condo, far from John Doe, in the ___, like I'm Johnny Bravo, got pravado, with a small dick sitting in golados, feeling far gone, cuz that last hit was the good shit, was that stay lit
4:48-5:02
You can never take my shit come and get me. On the top floor, cloud 9, fading, never bailing, felt amazing, inhaling, til my lungs two guns blazing. Overcome all the stunts that I pulled. A suit of just skin and then wool
5:02- 5:17
This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm ya. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here till they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80, and start moving like a ruler, ?damaged? Like a computer going fast, bars from the jeweler, bring the songs to the beach in hopes of finding tuna
5:18-5:36
…
5:36- 6:16
Grab a bat, lose my rag. Couple things got me mad, a couple people got me wrong and now I’m changing up the swag. Coming in and stealing it, I might take the whole bag. Feeling undefeated, I’m a beast with a reason, and imma lead the whole pack. Fearless like I’m Caesar, I’m just waiting for a chance to fill it up with diesel, and all I've been achieving is clocking miles in its region, moving like a legion.
Promise that I made to myself an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving, staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving.
I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy, it’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on a mike.
6:16-6:32
I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane. The truth is on my medicine, can’t put that on your plate.
Speeding into everything, bout time I fixed the brakes. Don’t say I can’t communicate , you know I conversate with you in several different ways. And I know you know it’s references, looking at your face.
6:33- 6:53
Can’t justify mistakes, like every man that made them, seems I ain't the one to blame. Lying to myself, only had so much to gain, so now I’m switching up the plate, see if that affects the place, im at on most days
I ain’t going with the usual so they looking at me strange. Confused, I can feel it all, I’m here to make a change. It’s cold at 3am outside, I’m walking with the dog, thanking god that you don’t talk at all, my mind is switching off
6:54-7:12
Driving down to find myself, cuz I’ve been getting lost, lived this selfless life and found I can give a toss. Lessons that I’ve learned I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself.
So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt. Like burning toy soldiers that used to go up on the shelf. Recycle the ideas, conveying on the belt
7:14-7:29
.. circus, always hurting the way we felt? Embarrassed that we dreamt of bigger things and letting go of notions till we feel them in cement
Tired of only hoping, we feel broken men. Cuz the gravity is weight and has kept us to the ground, see the only people speaking with favors in their mouths
7:46-7:58
Got killer rhymes… no fillers, like godzilla, eating clouds cuz my smokes thicker, throat licker, my dope sicker, bringing people their hope like im the pope slicker, i hope you’re getting the point cuz i walk quicker
I thought my city was shit bcs I want bigger like my zipper couldn’t zip up fed up with the…my love is fickle.. Residual age has a primitive face
I see demise for your limited ways, Left it to simmer, simmer away…a fake glimmer in the haze
8:09-8:11
Feeling trapped this industry is a cage
8:34-8:50
Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views, while they’ve been sat in their chairs, I’m feeling pressure to choose.
Standing here as one man, how can I do half when you’re half the person I am. If it wasn’t in your life, you didn’t choose it. It’s the funny thing about music. It’s the pain and beauty of it.
8:52-9:11
Don’t give a fuck what my suit is, it looks good so I wear it, better than the shoot that People’s wearing, changing the whole narrative for these basics and scarcity
Been facing the racists from back when i were a kiddie .born up in in 93’. been living in Bradford City..kicked me out of the schools, they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p*** still sitting in the classroom chilling, and i'm angry now that I’m older I see they treat us different
9:12-9:25
got me thinking I’m the problem cuz they never dealt with those issues.
20 years later I’m still in the same boat, tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for, man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil, when they got me by the throat
9:25-9:35
Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them
‘Boy your skin is so light’, ok motherfucker take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.
9:35-9:45
I don’t know how that’s acceptable, when life is more susceptible to perception, be the death of them. I’ve been looking at the sky saying where’s that day of reckoning, you had your prophets right when they say that you would speak to them.
9:45-9:55
I need justice in this life and I trust that it’s my fight, cuz when I’m writing it feels right to have them focused on the facts again. Focused on the rap again, hoping for the change, gunna put this on the map again
9:55-10:16
Writing in all caps again, the pain, it goes through me so I write the letter. All the shit that could have brought me but made me better.
I’m at home with a pain in my soul , yeh rap… cuz you know I was too real to contest it, my time was invested. Now I look at the industry, I see it infested, looking like kids who would write on nesquik.
10:17-10:29
My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.
I ain’t never gave a fuck about these jokers and jesters. Ain’t no answers for these things, so just save us the questions, man allowed of violence, cuz my silence is deafening, your opinion stinks, somebody get him a breath mint.
10:30- 10:42
Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening, I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine Now they all wanna hear me, got a table at letterman. Direction changed, like I changed up the lettering. Don’t believe the age ,bcs I move like a veteran.
10:42 - 10:47
Raised on the benefit for whose benefit, they’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.
…no words coming out when you open your mouth
And to be honest, it’s insulting, offensive to my wounds that have been salting. Tryna ask me questions that they know I never answer. I’d rather sit online and reply to the fan art
11:00-11:06
Fuck a sports car, coming through when i rapped
tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor
11:06- 11:17
Fake life, 'sup online, suck a fat one. You don’t wanna buy into that, none of that son. Sitting in the garden 98’ in the Datsun, seen some hot summers but I still remember that sun.
*music*
11:51- 12:34
I make millions off of my pain, cause I know a few millions still living that way
Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause i hit the nerve. Only way that the sheep learn if the street firm, in my ways I don’t wanna change, everything just stay the same
Who you tryna convince you understand, cant maintain, let the lights dim some, get the Chow Mein, flex, get the tape, right up at night
Why these men be nice to my face, be nice, i ain’t tryna be a gangsta ruins my vibe
Rather be low-key and on my phone. Never need the trophy or the show piece
Never show peace in a North Face fleece. Show kids this like i wrote my flip
Cause the sign might fit till the start i’m sick
12:37-13:05
Now you see where I come from, the world don’t. Only achievement in this life is the Jordans. Committing petty crimes out of boredom, we can’t afford them. So I stole it, need a rolex
Go make sense, get yourself a job, It’s a poor man’s game tryna sit and pray to god, he ain’t sorting out your problems, gotta sort them out yourself
Used to tell us fables, now I’m writing them myself, Cause we raw like animals we all just need some help
Cathartic, I’m an artist, trying to put my heart in
Felt double crossed like Leo in Departed
13:05- 13:27
For the knowledge i’m not charging see I got it all free
But my hunger kept me starving like i’m feening for the feed
I just Need a reason to see me bleeding for my creed. Trick you with the words like I keep em up my sleeve. Picking where I fit, I see me sitting with the queen
I ain’t doing it unless you’re used to saying please
Let me flow a bit, before I sting 'em with the bees, They tryna kill us with disease
(Music)
13:34- 14:12
Why does it feel like they had the same notebook and the same four looks
Like the rain won't touch on their face, so sus when they lie don’t trust not a minor
Please no fuss, I just move through the game like must
Something in the way i adjust till i stick, Free falling like the ship, free fall till i bust
Remember 21 brother gave no fucks. Trying to project when they give them looks
In the projects, in the objects us
In my own way, never gave me love, shoulda never started this, broken hearted kid
Dried up the feeling till I stole the lid
Don’t wanna relish in the fame but I can’t resist
14:46-14:58
I like the way we feel, I like the way, I like the way
Ain’t no mistake, i am a being
I ain’t tryna be a leader, been selling out since Jesus
All my rhymes are for the readers, between the lines, like Father time, I fuck Mother Nature
14:58-15:40
That’s what they get, the connotations. Tell 'em I lived a life, and then I lived a life of adjacent? like its…. and played it patient.
Alone on my own spaceship, always tryna find greatness, still defying lines, but I’m fighting in my prime.
Shining light like Kylo while imma kill it all the time. Aging like I’m wine
Asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define. Focused on defiance, imma fight it while it’s life.
Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next, just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around til I’m the best
Speaking in full sentences, shoulda thought about a strategy before you went at the stratosphere about this… rings around Saturn, this ain’t a battle, I’m sat, I’m here
15:40-16:22
Catch me doing magic, hired and sounding tragic I think you could use practice and until that you get the blacklist and pull like a … actress? Fooling them like a catfish, schooling like a legend, happy to be the reference, fusing like iridescence, leaving them all guessing, leaking out of my brain like a pipe I aint fixing, shining like a star you can see it from a distance
Aint many of me around p*** I’m just different Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto, clean up like Im Dettol
I’m the man to put a bet on, sight smart like a weapon, this is my kind of setting, i write the world I’m sat in, while these others live on hype, i see them fight in how they type, the fruit is ripe for the taking, i think i might
16:22-16:57
Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here, Let me take you away from here
16:58- 17:47
Eccentric things are mentioned like a kid stuck in detention tryna escape im just spitting what is written on the next page, spitting image of my dad in his young days
Born sinner when i’m livid i say fucks sake
Don’t worry i’m too cunning with no plumbing, the waterworks, i sung something that resonates, i thought it first like giving birth to the parrot perch
They see me do it and they know it works
Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse
You’ll be nervous, you don’t deserve it we’ll scratch the surface ill leave a crater, lift the dirt up to find the hurting
Can’t know for certain nothing is guaranteed, tryna be a better person than the world deserves to see cuz i see a lot of sharks still swimming in the sea
Cease and arrest what’s the reason.. And these the kinda kids we bringing up next
Distorted reality, all they needed was family, too hard to face, to see what the damage is
17:47
*i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, i don’t wanna be, i don’t wanna be, a part of this, *
18:04-18:38
Sometimes they ask the questions too deep to form a sentence, to disform, is this the norm, is this the sentence i feel defenseless i played the setlist, and all my sweat blood and tears, forgot to mention feeling lost, going off into different sections i feel like love wrecked it
If it’s not a drug why am i waiting for the next fix, affected, i cant believe that you left this
I guess I leave for the best wish, moving on like im fine for the lectures
We see it all from spectrums, cuz if we’re falling down we can fall down together
Staircase to heaven, mirror down the middle like 11, resentment on one side it won’t settle
18:38- 19:14
Mind fried but taking sense, they aint got a sense of themselves in the rich ends
Need to spell it out for them.. Made for them so witness
I know you feel afflicted but you always love it with me while im laughing at you, ya think you’re laughing with me
I try to (i love you) but im grown so they don’t fit me, my body thrown from the new to this old city so Im sick of sitting on my own, feeling so shitty, i’ve been on roads where its cold and the snow hitting
Its okay to be yourself, sit and talking to myself
I’ve been walking for the longest, just need a little rest, know i ain’t the strongest, I can feel it in my chest, talking about my feelings and of me, they get the best
19:14-19:59
They aint leaving, seeing breathing in my breath
Till death do us part is just seeded in my heart, like a work of art
Never winning,im just scared
Cant begin from the start, do i play a part in the rhythm of the night
I guess i’m onto something cuz the dark is feeling right
Every cloud got a lining, put my own miles in, like moralis, figured that they’re jealous, that they could just never tell us to change because the weather never made me question whether or not i’m not that level
Got rid of all the bullshit sitting in my way, most of them are full of shit i see it every day
I do hearing the same things that i do, maybe that shits hitting like haiku
How much do you pay for them to hype you
Recycle your flaws but they aint like new, leaving and conceded and full of diesel like engines that need a cleaning, the ending will be revealing. Even though we ain’t raising the facts, now we been facing.
20:01-20:52
The cactus with spikes, needing spaces. Different faces, the same story. A full body like straight body direct to your system.
Could never tell 'em we missed’ em. Not even with the thoughts, we gift them. Cuz they just take advantage, guess we are caught in a system.
My soul pouring out details of borrowed time, had enough of a fill, this is for sorrow time. I’m seeing visions of Heaven, I seen the severed line, between the gospel they speak and when theyre telling lies.
Remember telling a friend of mine, you’d sent of mine, identified like a 3rd eye. Got a habit of knowing now where the dirt lies. So benign. I ain’t sober after 9, so I fuck their minds. Why you flipping out, see another
Try to rep it from the city, fuck a chiller crew, repping for the nittys, trying to keep us down, raised on the social, don’t want to let us out of the system. Me, I insist we assist them, me alone putting shifts til I lift them
20:53-21:12
I know it’s hard, that’s why I like it, I’m fit to fight it, I’m from the North, I’m backing Tyson, it’s been decided, don’t see no light. They needing guiding, just redefining, realizing, I’m realigning, in full finance, they stay silenced.
Can’t be louder, I’m juiced up with no powder. I fix shit like a slick spanner. Gone green like Bruce Banner. So free Gaza on my banner
21:12-21:51
The real McCoy, I ain’t nothing to toy with, signifying peace like a Japanese Koi Fish. How did this happen, we’re moving backwards in our timeline, killing us with cyanide, Right up for the freedom 'til we transform like Ironhide
This is bout my feelings, the way that I move affects the fate that I’m sealing. Can’t say nothing, with that something being on the page, kept inside the pen like the bars that have been kept caged. See I always had a plan, since I was young, we had nothing man
Now it’s been a few years since I ain’t seen the fam, on foreign lands. Bout to climb Everest in the avalanche. Right into the riddles as soon as you were born. Never asking the question cuz it’s the norm. See I’m in a questionin’ session
21:52-22:03
Like the manner got a method to teaching a lesson, listen to MF Doom, he taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten. Still we play cartoons so it’s never forgotten.
22:03-22:15
Chilling at the top but we came from the bottom. Writing and jottin for them life by, spotting the difference
*Dreams, was growing out of me, sun promising that tomorrow it will rise, time playing games with my mind, I swear it will pass us by
Train goes on the tracks, smoke, I’m tired to hide my thoughts, so blinded in flames, Don’t know where we’re going, I have no way of knowing, only see what’s in my head
Can’t we wait a minute, so we can savour this, It’s on my brain again, these days, It on my brain again these days”
23:10-23:46
They’re hating on Palestine ways, The oh no Palace playing Prince on the Steinway, Sending out mind waves, stop them like crimewaves, Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name
Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing
We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route, say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown
I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.. Done ain’t it, Shit just gets me vexed, and now I’m sitting that I think of it
23:45-23:59
Feeling on the brink of it, whatever it is, Figure out some shit at least it feels that way
talk about my feelings and I don’t feel so strange, finding solace, that’s a promise, in Metropolis but being honest, can’t write a sonnet, without some pain
24:00-24:40
Can’t fade away, away so we can savour this, been on my brain again these days
Can't find a way to be so you can savour this, been on my brain these days
Singing the song for another, singing a song for another
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Someone - Ghost Ben Hargreeves x Ghost!Reader
Request: Ben hargreeves x reader who is also a ghost??? And klaus ships the hell out of em
&
Ghost ben x ghost reader with klaus third wheeling hehehehe i need more platonic klaus and reader stuffss
Warnings: mentions of drugs (well.. it’s Klaus) and death (uhm bc ghosts?)
Word count: 2 045
“TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR-!”
Klaus jumped up so quickly that he almost fell out of his bed. The bright sunlight that was shining into his room was blinding and hurt his eyes, mostly, but not only, due to the terrible hangover he was suffering from.
“What-“
He blinked and noticed two figures standing at the end of the bed. One was Klaus’s deceaced, adopted brother Ben, and the other was you, the also deceased neighbor, who the Hargreaves kids had been friends with for as long as they could think. Now both ghosts stood in Klaus’ room, staring down at him in worry. Klaus usually loved his sleep but today your obnoxiously loud and off-key singing had woken him up for good; saved him from the lost souls that chased him in his nightmares.
“You were screaming,” Ben explained, crouching down to his brother. “Did you hurt yourself?”
Klaus shook his head no and slowly untangled himself from his blanket, earning an unnerved screech from you.
“Seriously, you sleep in a shirt but without pants?”
You turned away, deciding that it was too early in the day to be faced with Klaus’ bare legs in all their pale beauty.
Ben just chuckled.
“You hang around all the time anyway,” Klaus answered, reaching for the hand Ben had offered him, but was only met with thin air, causing him to sigh and get up by himself. “I bet you peek when I take a bath!”
“Oh, he’s fine,” you answered Ben’s question that had originally been directed at Klaus. “If he can hit on a dead person this early in the morning, he’s fine.”
And with these words you left the room. Through the wall.
Ben watched as Klaus wandered over to the chair by his desk and grabbed a flower skirt which he put on.
“Oh man, seriously?”
“What? Flowers match my aesthetics!”
“I meant the stupid lines you throw at (y/n) all the time. You know they don’t like it! You’re just gonna chase them away eventually,” Ben complained.
“Oh, they know it’s just banter,” Klaus disagreed, “and you’re just jealous that you don’t have the courage to be so open.”
Ben’s eyes widened, and he almost would have jumped forward to cover Klaus’ mouth with his hands to make him be quiet, but it would not have made a difference anyway since he was not made of matter.
“Shh,” he hissed instead, “They might hear you!”
“Oh come on,” Klaus threw his hands in the air, “did you still not tell them you like them? I didn’t raise you to be such a coward!”
“Yeah, you didn’t raise me at all,” Ben spit back, “and it doesn’t have to do anything with cowardice, just so you know.”
“Oh really, then why didn’t you tell them yet?”
Ben sighed, not sure what to answer. He did like you, very much in fact. But you were friends, and if he confessed that he liked you… the usual problems anyone who had ever been in love with their friend. But with the little additional problem that both of you were dead. For all eternity. You would both be stuck together in this weird situation until the end of time.
In the meantime, oblivious to the conversation that was going on in Klaus’ room, you were wandering around the Hargreaves mansion. Sometimes it upset you that you had no possibility to talk to anyone, other times you had fun commenting on the inhabitants’ routines the same way a sports reporter would, but today you were content just strolling around the house.
Grace was sitting in the gallery, embroidering flowers onto a white piece of cloth. For a while you watched her precise movements, then you walked over to the edge of the balustrade and watched Diego practicing his knife throwing. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and was throwing his knives against the door while turning to change the angle as often as possible. With slight amusement you watched the cold metal blades boring themselves into the massive wood where they stayed stuck, vibrating from the impact.
After you had watched Diego for a while you walked downstairs into the kitchen, where you found Luther brooding over his oatmeal.
“Knock, knock, anyone home?”
You pretended to knock your knuckles against Luther’s head.
“Sorry, that wasn’t very nice,” you mumbled, and flopped down on the chair opposite him. “sooo, what’s going on inside that head of yours, hm?”
Since, unlike Klaus, Luther could neither see nor hear you, he did not respond or even move, he just kept staring at his half eaten breakfast.
“How do you do that, dealing with your feelings for Allison,” you wondered, still not receiving an answer, but not expecting one either, “everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other, and you are always around each other. How does that not totally destroy you?”
Luther sighed and picked up his spoon, twirling it between his fingers.
“I mean… do you feel remotely as lonely as I do? Every time I see Ben, or even think of him, I… I see what I could have, how perfect he is, how kind, how… broken. He never wanted his power, yet he was the one burdened with it, and it’s so hard for him. And I just want to help, but I also want so much more! I want to hug him, and kiss him, and tell him everything will be alright! I want to make sure he’ll always be safe and welcome with me, and… then I remember that he just does not feel the same affection for me as I feel for him… and it just sucks.”
Luther dipped the spoon into the oatmeal, and pulled it back out, but instead of eating it, he turned the spoon so the oatmeal dripped of the spoon and back into the bowl, making a strange, wet sound.
“Yeah, something like that.”
~*~
No matter how much you adored Klaus and the stupid jokes he was making, you could not always hang around him. It was not so much his character, or Ben’s constant presence that made things hard as much as it was what he poor bastard did to himself. You were pretty certain Klaus had tried out every single drug nature and mankind had ever developed, and he spent most of his waking time getting high on them. You just could not watch it. You and Ben were the only two ghosts who got through to him once he was all drugged up, and you had lost count on how many times you had tried to stop Klaus from taking whatever he was about to take, but to no avail. He never listened. And while Ben hung out with Klaus for whatever reason, you just could not. Klaus was not your responsibility, and he had made it pretty clear that he did not want your concern either. And so you tried to stay away from him most of the time he was not clear.
The sun already began to set over the city when you made your way up to the roof. You loved sitting out here, watching the last light fade in the distance and the stars creep out of their hiding. You missed the feeling of the sunbeams on your skin and the wind in your hair, but at least you still got to watch these perfectly rich colours on the horizon and on the roofs.
You wondered whether in ten, twenty, a hundred or even a thousand years you would still be able to enjoy these images as much as you enjoyed them now. Would you stop caring eventually, when everybody who had ever bound your soul to this world had died? Would you turn bitter and angry, like a poltergeist? You could not remember ever having met such a ghost. Most of the time the other dead people were just shadows of their former selves, and hardly any were as conscious and active as Ben and you. Would you lose this energy eventually? Would you too just turn into some dead shadow of your former self?
While you were still thinking about these topics, Ben had slowly approached you, and sat down next to you. Only then you noticed him.
Turning your gaze away from the skyline, you looked over at him. Ben’s eyes were closed and his head was dropped back into his neck as if he was trying to feel the wind and sun on his face. But you knew he could not. Some people might think it to be romantic to be a ghost, but really it just felt like you had been robbed of some of the best things in life, like the feeling of wind and sun and water, your favourite foods and long Sunday naps.
“How was your day,” you asked, looking back at the horizon.
“Ah, you know,” Ben shrugged, “the usual. Klaus being a dick, Klaus being annoying, Klaus sleeping, Klaus listening to music …” You laughed, and Ben could not help but feel a little proud for having made you laugh. “And yours?”
“Watched Grace, watched Diego, had a very one-sided conversation with Luther and some of the portraits in the gallery, and I am currently enjoying this wonderful sunset,” you summarized.
“What did you talk to Luther about,” Ben wondered, and for a moment you wondered if he was jealous. But of course he was not. Why should he be? Luther did not even know you existed in this afterlife.
“Allison, loneliness, as you said, the usual,” you answered.
“You’re lonely,” Ben wondered, and turned to look at you.
“Sometimes,” you admitted, “I mean… I can see my family every day, but I can’t change anything about how their lives have changed without me. I never thought my dad would be one to drink, but here we are! And my siblings are all grown up now, moving away, living… and I’m just here like… maybe I should attend college, just out of curiosity. Or go to some workshop for knitting, even if I can’t do it myself.” You hesitated for a moment, before continuing more quietly. “I just feel like I’m lacking sense. Like… something’s missing.”
“Or someone,” Ben added, more to himself, but when he looked up from where he had been staring at his hands, he saw you were looking at him.
“Someone,” you asked, not sure if you wanted an explanation.
He did not answer. He just stared at you. At the sunbeams that caught in your lashes and made them glow, but left no shadows on your cheeks, at the way your eyes skipped over his face, trying to read his expression, but failing. Over the years he had learned that the only thing that felt real in this strange state of being a ghost was the touch of another ghost, and it felt weird and foreign since it happened so rarely. Ben did not know why exactly, or whether there was any reason at all, when he leant forward and pressed his lips to yours. Maybe it was just to stop that look on your face that tried to hide disappointment. Maybe it was because he had wanted to do this since he had been a teenager. Much to his relief you did not pull away, instead you leant in, gently kissing him back and driving his heart crazy, especially when you decided to place your hand at the side of his face to pull him closer. Your skin was warm and soft and real, so different from the strange world of the living all around the two of you. Ben did not quite realise it until he had pulled away again, cheeks blushed and lips swollen, but something felt different. It was not just the ecstatic feeling of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you, but something more. What had you said about this feeling of loneliness earlier? As if something, someone, was missing? Ben leant his forehead against you and felt your eyelashes flatter against his skin. That feeling of something missing was gone now. He had found the Someone he had been missing. You.
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Kaceeyyyy, I turned 21 today and am *sightly* tipsy after my quarantine solo party. I'm keep imagining Lambert trying to take care of a lightweight S.O. and it's 😂 Would you be up to a drabble or headcanon? no pressure tho bc I know you're busy and haven't been able to write as much. (Also sorry if this prompt makes you uncomfortable or anything as well) Either way I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BLOG AND YOU'RE MY FAVORITEST WITCHER WRITER ACROSS ALL 7 SEAS!!! NETFLIX SHOULD HIRE YOU BC YOU'D DO OUR PUPPIES PROUD!
A/N: Oh babe!! You are too sweet!! Seeing you say that really made my day! I hope you like this and HAPPY BIRTHDAY FELLOW 2000s BABY also I think I may have accidentally started writing drunk!Geralt as Thor sometime through this so..... I apologize if this seems out of character for Geralt....
***
“HA! I WIN!” You declared, laughing as you stood up and reached across the table to take the small pile of coin from Geralt.
“I don’t think that-think that was very fair of you, Y/N.” The White Wolf’s words slurred as he looked down into his tankard to see how much liquor he had left. “Think you cheated.”
“How did I cheat?” You furrowed your brows, still pulling the pile of coin to your side of the table.
“Because I can’t even…. I can’t even see what cards I’ve got.” He shook his head, setting the remaining gwent cards in his hand down onto the table. “I can’t read the cards right now.”
You broke out into laughter again, throwing your head back.
Geralt reached over for the bottle of White Gull at the end of the table, but his depth perception wasn’t the greatest. He ended up knocking the bottle off into the floor. It shattered into a billion pieces, sending the witcher into a fit of laughter himself.
The door to the library opened and Eskel and Lambert stepped in. They stayed there for a moment, surveying the scene. There were numerous bottles spread on the tables throughout the library. The table you sat at with Geralt was covered in Gwent cards and coin. You were hunched over on the bench, laughing rather loudly while Geralt had his head thrown back while he laughed.
“I hope Y/N didn’t drink even half of the bottles in here.” Eskel thought out loud, picking up one of the empty bottles.
“They wouldn’t be conscious if they had.” Lambert shook his head. “Can’t drink for shit.”
“Lamb- hick -bert!” You exclaimed his name, breaking it up with a hiccup. Your face lit up at the sight of the young witcher. You quickly stood up from your seat and tried to get to him, but you moved too fast and the room spun. You giggled, reaching out to steady yourself on his arm but he was too far away.
“Easy there, bug.” Lambert moved to your side before you could stumble or fall.
You grabbed ahold of his arms, leaning into him without any care in the world. Luckily, he was sturdy and strong enough to hold your weight.
“Did you have fun while I was gone?” Lambert put his hands on to your hips to steady you.
“Yes! Of course!” You turned your head to look at Geralt. He was starting to stand up from the bench but the toe of his boot got caught on the bench and he went flying to the floor. You barked out a laugh, jumping up and down as you pointed at him. “Geralt! Geralt of Rivia! Has finally met his match!”
“Ha, ha!” Geralt laughed, turning over onto his side. “No bench can defeat me.”
“I believe it, big guy.” Eskel offer his hand to his brother.
“How much did you drink, bug?” Lambert asked you.
“All of it!”
“You barely had half a bottle of Gull!” Geralt pointed at you accusingly. “That’s where you cheated! You got me drunk! Got me drunk and-and you played Gwent with me! Stole all my coin!”
“Good job, bug.” Lambert praised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You hummed, leaning into his touch. Your skin was warm and tingly, and where he kissed you seemed especially tingly.
You didn’t realize you were leaning awkwardly into him until you lost your balance and practically fell into him.
“Easy there, bug.” He kept his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to bed. Eskel, can you get dumbass over there to his room?”
“I think I can manage.” Eskel nodded.
“Tomorrow, I want a rematch!” Geralt told you.
You opened your mouth to say something back but all that came out was a rather loud burp. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. Your widened eyes found Lambert, who looked rather impressed.
“Oh gods. That wasn’t very mannerly of me.”
“Don’t worry, bug. I’ve heard you make worse sounds. Come on.” He patted your side and began to guide you in the direction of the door.
Just as the two of you left the library, you gasped.
“Wait! My coin!” You stopped him, turning quickly to run back to the table.
“Easy! Easy! You’re going to trip and break your neck.” Lambert stopped you from getting very far. “I’ll go get it. You stay right here.”
You nodded and watched him slip back into the library.
You waited there for what felt like way too long. You decided to head to bed without him. He’d be able to just meet you there, right?
So you started down the hallway, giggling when you accidentally tripped because you were dragging your feet a little too much or when you bumped into the wall.
“Bug?” Lambert’s voice echoed from down the hall.
You started running as best as you could through the hall, using the wall as a guide since you couldn’t see very well.
“Bug, I can hear you. Where the hell are you going?”
“I’m racin’ you to bed!”
“Well, you’re going the wrong way.”
You tried to stop but you couldn’t get your feet to slow down in time. You ended up running straight into a wall. You yelped as you fell back on your ass, holding your nose.
“Lambert!”
He sighed as he approached you, shaking his head. His eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting in the hallway, therefore giving him the ability to see you.
“Lambert! I-I broke my nose!”
“You didn’t break your nose, bug.” He knelt down beside you and reached down to pull your hands away from your face. “You’re just bleeding a little.”
“How do you know? You didn’t even look!”
“I didn’t hear the crunch of bones breaking.”
You gagged at the thought.
“Come on, bug. You need to get to bed. Sleep off the alcohol in your system.” Lambert stood up, looking down at you.
“Carry me, love!” You held your arms open for him. “My legs broke!”
He rolled his eyes, running a hand over his face.
“You’re lucky I like you.” He scooped you up into his arms and began to trek to his room.
“You like me?” You looked up at him with furrowed brows. “Do you really?”
Lambert wanted to drop you right there and make you find your own way to bed.
“Bug, we’ve been together for six years. I think it’s safe to say I love you at this point.”
You giggled, reaching up to brush your fingers over his cheek.
“Love you too, handsome.”
He turned his head and pretended to bite at your fingertips, making you giggle and laugh even more.
When you arrived at his room, he tossed you down onto the bed. You broke out into laughter, rolling onto your side.
Lambert pulled off your boots and put them on the floor by the bed.
“I’ll be right back, bug.” He disappeared for a few moments to retrieve a damp cloth to wipe your nose with. He was gentle as he wiped the blood from your nose.
You thanked him, watching him as he tossed the cloth towards the door.
“You wanna change your clothes, bug? Or you wanna just sleep in that?”
“I want you to get your ass up here and cuddle me, mister!” You pointed to the pillow by your head, trying to keep your tone serious but failing miserably. You covered your mouth with your hand and giggled.
“Don’t get that attitude with me, bug.” Lambert kicked off his own boots and got into bed. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see you try.” You challenged, scooting closer to him. You forced your knee between his thighs, which made him yelp and jump.
“The hell are you doin’, bug!”
“Tryin’ to get comfy, Lambert!” You whined, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.
“Be careful where your shoving your body parts.” He grumbled.
You slipped your arms around him and held him tightly. He buried his nose in your hair and closed his eyes.
“Night, bug.”
You burped and giggled.
“Good night, Lambert.”
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Swapping Styles For A Day
I know I said that I won't be posting anything new until Revin week came but I just had to share this new thing I just wrote. It's the two swapping closets, so basically Red's dressed like a geek and Kevin's dressed... Uh, something cool and nothing like Kevin wears bc I see Red as a girl with multiple fashion styles.
Another reason why I am putting this up is because I would love to see art of this. Like imagine Kevin with make- up and like black nail polish and a piercing. Maybe a skirt too? He doesn't put a skirt on here bc I don't see him being confident enough for it just yet.
Also, please don't judge the ending. I didn't know how to end it but I did my best. :/
---
Kevin gulped as his girlfriend had a self- piercing gun in her hands, shaking as she got it ready on his right ear. "D- do we r-really have to do this, Red?"
Red raised a brow as she pulled the piercing device away from his ear, adjusting the glasses she had on. "No, we don't. But you kept on insisting we do this to me all day... So, what? Did you change your mind once we got to piercing your ears?"
"Well, did you have to get pierced ears, Red?! You know, you could have gone through your whole life without piercing your ears..." Kevin nervously rubbed one of his ears.
"I know that but I just... wanted to get my ears pierced. For funsies, I guess." Red shrugged, rubbing her own ears. "Alright, Kev... What's it gonna be? Like you said, you don't have to get it..."
He rubbed his ear some more as he bit his bottom lip before sighing. "I'm doing it! You have pierced ears, so I should get at least one of my ears pierced for tomorrow! Do it, Red! Just do it already!" The male grabs hold of her free hands and squeezes it tightly.
"Okay, if you say so... Great. Now, I'm nervous for you..." Red gulped a bit as she positioned the piercing gun onto his right ear again. "Alright then... One, two, three!" She pierces his right ear lobe once she finished counting.
Kevin screamed at the top of his lungs which makes Red scream at the top of hers. After a few seconds, they had calmed down and Red puts a simple black earring on his newly pierced ear.
"You know there are such things as clip on earrings, right?" Red calmed herself down while handing Kevin a mirror. "We could have just gotten those kinds of earrings for you instead of making ourselves scream there for piercing your ears..."
"Yeah, I do..." Kevin grabs the mirror and admired the new piercing he got. "But it wouldn't have felt authentic to what we have planned for tomorrow, I guess... I don't know. You did a pretty good job with it though. It looks good."
"Heh, thanks. I never even used anything like this before. I had my ears pierced by a professional, after all." She snickered as she looked at the piercing gun in her eyes. "And please, what you have planned for tomorrow... Remember, this is all your idea..." Red rolled her eyes, lying on her bed and putting her glasses on top of her head. "I have no idea where you got the idea of partners swapping closets but it is cute, not gonna lie. But also hard for us, seeing as I have such a wide style of clothes to chose from. I don't have just one aesthetic I regularly stick to. Meanwhile, you just have... Geek." She gestured to his current outfit before snickering again.
"Hey!" Kevin opened his mouth then quickly shut it, pouting as he got up to sit next to her. "Okay, maybe that's true... But like, that's why I let you dress me from time to time. I can see how my geek style can get a little redundant." He yelped when Red suddenly hugged him and made him lie next to her. "Umm, what's this for?"
"To tell you this right to your face, Mister. I may love dressing you and it's fun from time to time, I still like how you regularly dress the most. That's your unique style and one of the many reasons why I fell for you. You are one adorable geek, my Captain." She kisses his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on it. "Though, for tomorrow, I guess that's gonna change, huh? So, how do you feel about putting on make-up for tomorrow?"
He gulped nervously, gesturing to her face. "Nothing like... This intense, right? Don't get me wrong! There is absolutely nothing wrong with males wearing make-up. But I am a little intimidated when it comes to more intense looks like yours..."
"Intense looks like mine?" She snickered before bursting out in laughter. "Please, it's Goth make-up that looks really intense. I am more diet goth in a way. I don't think any of those intense looks goth do will suit me, anyway. But you know, pretending to be a dark angel awoken something in me that day... It made me want to try some looks that don't border on straight up goth." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, my usual make-up look is just a bit of eyeliner, light blush and then dark colored lipstick so it'll pop out against my bright asshole red hair. That's it, pretty simple really."
"Hey! No!" Kevin pouted angrily at her, gently cupping her cheeks as he looks right into her eyes. "Your gorgeous red hair is one of the many things I love about you, Red. Do not just insult it like that."
"Hmm? Oh, Kevin, honey. I love you so much." She smiles softly as she gave him a few Eskimo kisses. "I just meant that as an expression, okay? You can't really deny that my hair is an overwhelmingly bright red color, right?"
"Mmm, I guess not... But still! No more insulting your hair like that!" His pout grew which makes Red kiss him on the lips. "Hey, I'm being serious here!"
Red smirked as she got up, putting her glasses back on properly. "Oh, were you now? I thought you were begging for a kiss there~" She teased, winking before opening up her closet. "I am very thankful to past me on buying the same shirts you have in my size! What with wanting to match every now and again" She giggles as she pulls out a bunch of geek t-shirts from her closet. "I know the whole thing is swapping closets but let's be real here... There is no way I am fitting in anything that isn't a jacket from your closet... Well, maybe a crop top fit but I don't really wanna freeze, tomorrow..."
"Hey! We're swapping closets tomorrow! Just what do you think you're doing, Red?!" He sat up as he gave her a serious expression, his arms crossed.
"I know, I know. Calm down, sweetie. I'm just picking out my options of clothes for tomorrow, okay? Because it would be much more quicker for us tomorrow if I just wear what I already picked out than going through my closet for the whole day, okay? Okay!" She beamed and smiled at him as she looked through her closet for something Kevin could wear tomorrow. "So, about the make-up, Kev... You didn't really give me a clear answer, you know."
"I didn't? Well, like I said, nothing too crazy. I'm fine with some lipstick and a bit of eyeliner. But that's about it, I guess. So, yes?" He shrugged then made a noise when Red threw a shirt at him.
"Alright! Good! And how about a skirt? Are you okay with wearing something like that tomorrow?" She threw a few bottom options at him. "Because if not, there are short shorts and ripped skinny jeans..."
"A skirt? I mean, I think guys should be allowed to wear skirts and stuff but I'm not really sure if it'll look good on someone like me..." He hummed. "So, if it's okay with you, I think I'll just stick with the ripped skinny jeans."
"Oh, Kev! Of course, I am! It's not like I always just wear a skirt, after all. I switch it up every now and again. And I get not having enough confidence to wear a skirt... It's not easy for guys who want to try it to just immediately wear it in public without being ridiculed. So, I'm not gonna force you to wear something you don't want to wear." She smiled before sighing, lying in bed again. "Okay, I know I said I wanna plan our outfits for tomorrow but I am beat... What else is there?"
"Hmm..." Kevin played with some of his hair which immediately gave him an idea. "Oh! I know! Since you have such an amazingly crazy hair color, I probably should have one too! But you know, more stylized... Something like..." He taps on his chin. "Luka from Miraculous Ladybug!"
"Oh my God, I always wanted to try out the way his hair is colored on you! But never found the right reason to!" She giggles as she plays with his hair. "Until now, I guess... I feel like we should work on that now because I know that will take a long time."
He nodded. "Alright, let's go shopping for the things we need!" He stands up then turns to face Red. "So, that's the last thing we will be doing to prepare for tomorrow, right? We have picked out the clothes we are going to wear tomorrow, haven't we?"
"We sure have! Now, come on! Let's go!" Red beamed, suddenly getting a burst of energy as she got up from her bed and pulls Kevin out her home.
*time skip to tomorrow because idk how to write them dying Kevin's hair...*
"I'm gonna be honest, Red... I didn't think my hair would end up looking good after dying it..." Kevin continued to admire the work his girlfriend had done with his hair in the bathroom mirror. He had been doing this ever since she finished.
"It's not the first time I dyed hair, Kev... It was way easier this time on someone other than myself." Red snickered as she adjusts her glasses before looking into the mirror. "God, it's weird to not be putting my contacts on when going out. Hell, this will be my first time going out with my prescription glasses..." She examines her reflection while putting her hair up in a simple ponytail.
Kevin finally exited the bathroom, unable to contain the blush and smile on his face as he hugged Red from behind. "Wow, Red... Despite dressing up like a geek, you sure still look so beautiful..."
"Hmm?" Red looked down to face him, blushing at his compliments. "Oh, uh... Thank you, Kev... And you... You sure look more damn handsome with what you're wearing right now."
"Oh? I do? Really? Thanks!" Kevin beamed up at her, giving her a dorky grin which makes her blush more.
"Yes, you really do... And uh, you're welcome. Fuck, I honestly didn't think make- up would make you look even more attractive! But here you are before me looking... Gorgeous! That's just the magic of make- up, I guess..." She covers half her face to hid her blushing.
"Right! The make-up! I mean, I felt you put it on me earlier but I don't even feel it on me right now! Like it feels natural almost." He giggles as he looks down on his nails. "My nails, too! You painting them black feels oddly natural too!"
Red pouts as she looks down at her clear nails. "You don't usually wear nail polish, so I feel weird without wearing nail polish for a day. But I was not gonna give up make- up. I need to put the lightest amount of make- up I could. What with my obvious imperfections in my face, after all."
"Well, with or without make- up, I think you are still the most beautiful girl in the world." Kevin gets on his tiptoes to kiss Red on the cheek, gasping when he left a mark on it and points at where he marked her. "Oh! Now, I marked you with lipstick!"
Red turns to look at the mark he left, giggling as she wiped it off. "Now, while it does compliment the look, I personally like it without this..." She pulls out a black beanie. "Then again, I don't want you getting cold..."
"You say that as I wear a slight crop top along with ripped skinny jeans..." He snickered. "But anyway, yeah. Let me have it. At least my head will be warm..." He grabs the hat from her hold and puts it on top of his head with Red adjusting it a bit.
"And there we are! Our completed swapped closet looks! Ready to go out and have people be staring at you, Kev?" Red asked him as she offered an arm out to him.
"Of course, I a- Wait, staring at me? Why would they be staring at me? You are the more attractive one between the two of us! And before you disagree, may I remind you just how many guys from our school, to this day, still say they have a crush on you?"
Red snickered, grabbing hold of his hand. "Well, you are wearing something very eye-catching... So, trust me when I say that people will be staring at my super hot boyfriend. I mean, I always knew he was hot from the start but this look just really elevates his hotness scale..." She kisses his cheek before walking out of her bedroom with him.
"I, uh... Same with you, I guess?" Kevin got completely flustered at her compliments. "But you know, I would prefer seeing you as very beautiful no matter what you wear."
She giggles as she looks at him before smirking as she saw people staring at them. "See? What did I say? You're the eye candy between the two of us for today..."
He gulped and shyly hides behind her. "I hate it whenever you're right, sometimes... How do you even deal with all these people staring at you, Red?"
She hummed before making him look into her eyes by putting a finger under his chin. "Simple, I remind myself that I have the most amazing person right next to me. Then my confidence just skyrockets..."
His attention wasn't at her words whatsoever as he blushed while looking back at her. "Even in the most geeky clothing, you manage to make me swoon..."
The redhead playfully rolls her eyes at him fawning over her, squeezing his hand that she was still holding. "Focus, Kev... Remember, I'm right here. No one else matters, okay? Just ignore all the staring and focus on me."
Kevin shook his head to stop himself from swooning, nodding with a brand new confident look on his face. "Okay, I got it. Thanks, Red. You gave me the perfect amount of confidence I need."
Red didn't say anything more, simply nodding back as they continued about their day. Not caring if people were staring because they found them attractive or if it was because they looked silly. All that mattered to them was each other.
#sp red tucker#red sp#red x kevin#red mcarthur#sp kevin#kevin stoley#kevin x red#sp red#red tucker#south park red#sp revin#revin#south park#south park ships#sp ships#oneshot
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Spyfall Pt. 1
BANGER OF AN OPENER ok let’s get into them reactions
cold open!
I missed cold opens in s11
why have the fam been missing for periods of time back at home when they literally time travel
the Doctor still having bad memories of trying to get Rose back to the exact moment she left?
is this the first time we’ve seen the doctor fiddling with the internal bits of the TARDIS from the outside like this?
water slides! rainforest floor!
‘in 5 seconds: die’ I mean that’s just another day with a satnav
‘I’d be a great spy, I’d just blend in’ ah but Graham what about the other key spy components: running away from explosions and smoothly ordering cocktails
Stephen Fry!
'you actually do exist’ cue Graham starting to doubt the possibility of his own existence
'they’re not toys Graham’ 'no they’re not and if you say other wise I will shoot you with my laser shoe’ ACTUAL CHILDREN lmao
so uh. VOR is Google right? or Amazon?
is this ep trying to seek forgiveness for Kerblam
(which I did enjoy but is a bit yikes when you start to think about it)
‘UNIT! even Torchwood!’
the emphasis on even since somehow that welsh disaster gang managed to get stuff done occasionally
also RIP UNIT and Torchwood I mean after London’s many alien invasions you’d have thought they’d have at least kept someone keeping an eye on the whole alien thing
does Thirteen have 2 phones? or was she just borrowing Yaz’s iphone?
well RIP Stephen Fry
the entire time the Aussie agents were searching outside the house all I could think was why did the Doctor land the TARDIS so far from the house!! it’s just out there! how will they get away if they have to!
'I’d be a great brother in law'
Yaz!! she’s been light alien absorbed!
love how genuinely tense this ep is
and I love the design of that weird forest-y place Yaz was sent
alien and terrifyingly isolated
'I thought I was dead’ 'I’m never gonna let that happen to you’ uh. this will be their second series as companions so let’s hope that’s not some nice early foreshadowing :)))
'we’ve tried to ask but she just changes the subject’ ok glad it’s looking as though the Doctor’s purposely been hiding her past
ooh that tantalising shelf of info
O seems very familiar and I can’t remember if the time he met the Doctor was in the show
WAIT no he was Waris Hussein in An Adventure In Space And Time that’s where I know him from
'there’s no match’ Doc why are you using a laptop to do this surely the TARDIS will get jealous
love the bond-esque score, nice work Akinola
'blend in’ your time has come Graham bc that’s something the Doctor has never been good at
Thirteen being threatening yess
imagine Thirteen getting shot and full on regenerating mid chase
I mean it would be useful in terms of being undercover and not being recognised
…
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAT!! WHATT!!!!!!!! W H A T
it’s the Master??????
did we have any idea this was coming???? I feel as though they’ve kept this very well hidden since I’ve not seen anyone mention the Master may be back this series
BETRAYED BY WARIS HUSSEIN
shrunken O in the matchbox is very The Faceless Ones
especially combined with them being on a plane
now I just want to know how long the Master just had to pretend to be an agent
I mean they’ve done the long term thing back when they were Harold Saxon but still
and yeah ok people are saying this ruins Missy’s arc but guys
it’s the Master
this character is 90% pure evil schemes did we really expect that arc to stick?
my one complaint about the ep? A SEVERE LACK OF SCRONCH
glad we don’t have to wait a full week for Spyfall 2 Electric Boogaloo, are we thinking those 4 morse code beeps in the trailer = the Master’s drum beats?
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Insufferable (i) - George MacKay x reader
(PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4)
requested: yes/no (im so sorry this took so long holy scheisse, there are so many parts too)
Thank you so much to our first Instagram request! @/okay.l0z I had a lot of fun with this and had to channel Ryan and Hannah's angst to help me.
"Hi! I've been reading your fics and I love them so much bc there's hardly any around. I was wondering if you take insta requests and if so can you do one with George and the reader are like enemies to loves and they have really cute moments but then end up fighting all the time and then it escalates and they end up having sEx and then get together or something bc I will THRIVE IF YOU DO!" ... "Is it bad if I want it long ass?"
also I thought about this like,,, a lot,,,
pairing: George MacKay x reader
warnings: slow-burn introduction bAsIcalLy, I think there are swear words?
word count: 2,629
a/n: There are several things to be addressed...
accuracy to George's life is like 0/100 - scratch that, they have the same hair color
think of this as an AU because idk how else to explain it
it's a slow burn. if you need something that isn't, check the next imagine over and give it a reblog.
You put your chin in your hand and furrowed your brows as you listened to the actors in front of you. The bright stage lights kept you at a suffocatingly hot temperature, but at this point, you didn't mind. What your main concern for the scene was simple: your leading actor was George MacKay. You had spent constant, stressful hours trying to convince the director of the show that he was not the choice, yet when it came down to it, what he said went, and you had to deal with the cleaning up. Today was not like any other. An almost two-hour practice, script work, lighting, etc, were all thrown at the actors still attempting to memorize their lines.
But it was this part, in particular, that was becoming the most difficult. Maybe it was because you were the ghostwriter of the script and the director was trampling on all of your ideas and dreams with a man that you could one-hundred-percent deem an enemy. Your lead character, Charlie, had a soft side to him, despite having an overpowering sense of the dangers of the world and a body to match. George wasn't Charlie. George was one of the lost boys from Peter Pan and that's all you could see him as. He needed to grow up and be a pirate with only two motives: breaking the chains of the dystopian government regime keeping him away from his wife and captaining the deadly sea creature infested waters and getting back to his wife in one piece.
But George's motives seemed to be entirely set on getting into his co-star's pants.
His cocky attitude and facade of charm made you want to rip your hair out. Sure, he took his job seriously and had several esteemed colleagues of yours raving about him, but this role wasn't his. It didn't help that you knew him from primary school, of all places, and once he found out, that's all he could bring up around you.
George rolled his sleeves and dragged a hand through his thick, red hair, the veins in his arm becoming rather predominant as he did so. He was damn near playing footsie with the girl in front of him; their flirty gazes bouncing from each other to the crumpled scripts in their hands. You rolled your eyes, feeling as if your team could see the steam rolling off your shoulders. The director was doing nothing, merely smiling giddily at the two tearing the scene to shreds. "Stop," you took the reins, standing up from your position on stage and tossing your script down. You stepped over to the two and the director didn't move an inch. "What are you doing?" You nipped, crossing your arms and stepping between George and his co-star.
He towered over you by miles; you weren't sure if this made him feel the superiority he exuded, but you always made sure to square your shoulders when you talked to him. "What do you mean? We're practicing," he slyly stated, sending a wink over your head to the girl.
You took the script from his hands, flipping a few pages to the scene they were supposed to be working on. He smirked down at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he watched you scan the page. His script was well-loved and worn as if it had been in his back pocket repeatedly, flipped through, folded, torn and taped, highlighted and annotated. You tried not to blush at the notes he had taken as if he had actually cared about his role. Notes such as movements and relative emotions were noted as if they were suggestions. You wet your lips, feeling George's easy-going gaze on you the whole time. "... Charlie, we have to get out of here..." You began, your eyes meeting his deep blue ones.
His face fell into a stern expression, his arms crossing heavily with a furrowed brow. "We've only just got here. I'm shipping out tomorrow. There's no way the Republic-" His Scottish accent was surprisingly thick and consistent. He was settling into Charlie.
"I don't care anymore. I'm tired of sitting idly by and watching you throw yourself away for a debt your brother can't repay." You swore you saw an actual feeling of hurt flash behind his eyes.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. "That debt is just as much mine as it is his. You're asking me to uproot and leave him, you know? I can't leave him."
"You'll die. You'll end up like the rest of the mariners haunting their wives for the rest of eternity. You're a slave." George took a few steps to stand in front of you, he was close enough that you could smell his cologne now: a sweet mix of sandalwood with hints of lavender. He smelled like a summer day spent at a cabin in the middle of a meadow. You hated it, but you wanted to bury yourself in his chest and bask in his scent for the remainder of your days.
He rested a hand on your neck, angling your face towards him as he whispered, "Look at me..." You attempted to ignore the beating of your heart in your ears and the sweat that began to spread across your back. "I'm free. I'm choosing this debt because, without it, he would die. He's the last piece of my father I have left."
You reached for his hand, covering it with your own. "What about me, Charlie? I'm here now. I'm flesh and blood in front of you. What about our child?"
"He'll be here when I get back." He pushed away from you, turning his back on you and settling his hands on his hips. "I'm not changing my mind." He looked over his shoulder at you. "Eden, I have to do this." You closed the script with a raised eyebrow, hiding how impressed you were that he actually knew his lines. The emotion he was conveying was nothing like how he had previously let on. You walked towards him and he turned back around. You pressed the script back into his hands and gave him a small glare.
"Practice how you play. I'm done with wasting time," you said more to the group than just him. The rest of the cast members weren't as proficient in hiding their amusement back as you were. The last thing George needed was another inflate to his ego. You went back to your spot, grabbing your clipboard and flipping over a few pages. The group began to gather around you slightly. "I need Eden and Charlie in with wardrobe now, the rest of you keep practicing your lines. I'll want to hear dialogue from Dane and Jack tomorrow. Give me another forty or so minutes and we'll call it?" The director nodded from the first row of seats. The crowd dispersed but George swam against the current of thespians, approaching you again.
He gave you one of his charming smiles. Be professional, you thought. "I was just wondering how that sounded to you?"
You thought for a moment, drawing the clipboard to your chest. "Yeah, it was good. Your accent's a bit dodgy, but the emotion is good. Why don't we see that during actual rehearsals?" You tilted your head at him and he looked at his shoes slightly, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Was he pretending to be humble?
"I don't know. I guess I like you more as Eden," he jeered, causing you to roll your eyes and he smiled wider.
"You're insufferable," you muttered, walking past him.
He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll grow on you."
You scoffed slightly. "Go get fitted for suspenders and leave me alone, MacKay."
The next few days were full of constant rehearsals both in costume and script memorization. You had to admit that for some reason this show had you wrapped in a bundle of tension and anxiety. George slowly tore away at your nerves, becoming his own mess of anger and frustration as he picked up more and more on the fact that you weren't going to take his shit. You were serious about this job and you were serious about this play. His humor had diminished as it had gotten closer and closer to opening night and you weren't surprised when he would snap back at you for making an adjustment to his tone or a note on the delivery of a line.
"Stop being such a bitch!" He groaned, tugging at his hair as you crossed your arms.
"Calm down, primadonna! All I'm saying is quit pacing! Charlie isn't pacing! Where in the script does it say he's pacing-"
"THAT'S RIDICULOUS. IT DOESN'T MATTER." He moved to stand in front of you, his teeth gritting slightly. This was what your discussion had grown into, one hissy fit flaring up the other.
"FUCK, YOU'RE RIGHT. I TOTALLY FORGOT YOU WERE THE ONE IN CHARGE, MR. MACKAY. SHOULD I JUST SUCK YOUR DICK RIGHT NOW SINCE WE'RE ALREADY ADDING IN UNNECESSARY ACTION," you would bite back causing him to glare up at the ceiling with his jaw clenching in a sarcastic smile. He wore your patience thinner than tulle. And you were hoping to be doing the same to him.
On the eve of opening night, a storm broke out over the city. You hadn't received word from your ride at all---a man you had been seeing on and off for a while, but still managed to keep him at enough distance that the two of you weren't official. You glared at your watch, deciding to say fuck it and just walk the five or so miles it was to your apartment. Your rain jacket was already soaked, your umbrella proving to be no help whatsoever. But you persevered knowing full-well that if your character, Eden, were in the situation, she wouldn't have batted an eye before dropping him and his lack of communication. As the water soaked into your boots and chilled you rather quickly, you bit your tongue, regretting not waiting for the bus. Cars past you at rushed paces, wanting to get home to their loved ones if the rain worsened---you figured.
Your heart began to pound as a car pulled up beside you, causing you to wrap your hand around the bottle of mace in your coat pocket. The window rolled down, but you kept walking. "Do you need a ride?" Hollered an almost too familiar voice.
You crossed your arms and continued to walk. "No!" You called back.
The car rolled forward and you heard the driver door open. George stepped out slightly, drawing his jacket up to fight against the biting wind. "Come on! Look at this weather!"
"I'm good! Go home, George!"
He tilted his head at you with a deadpan expression. "Don't make me throw you over my shoulder." You furrowed your brows and rolled your eyes, sliding into the passenger seat of his car and taking down your hood. George watched as you did this. He slipped off his jacket. "Here." He pulled his hoodie over his head. "Take your shirt off. You'll get hypothermia."
"Excuse me?" You nipped.
It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I won't look. You're soaked. Take my damn hoodie." You looked out the front window and then let out a huff. You peeled off your upper layer, no longer giving a fuck if George saw you in your bra. You looked over to him while he leaned his arm against his door, his cheek resting against his fist as he held his hoodie out to you. You pulled the garment over your head and couldn't help but snuggle into it. It was oversized and warm, smelling just like George. Your cold skin seemed to sigh against the soft material and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes at how content you were. George put the car into drive after he had made sure you were taken care of. You slipped your hands into the long sleeves and fought not to dig your nose into the neckline to breathe him in. His scent was like kryptonite to you and you hated it. "Are you hungry?" He asked, looking at you briefly and flipping the heat more to your side. He smiled almost proudly to himself at the sight of you enjoying his hoodie and the safety of his car.
You quickly braided your hair, attempting to combat the wet feeling of it against your neck. "No, I'm fine thanks."
"Come on. My treat? I've been a dick to you all week."
"Fine..." You mumbled. He found a nook of a restaurant jabbed into a part of London you had yet to explore. The rain had finally let up to a drizzle as the two of you made your way inside the softly lit eatery. The two of you tucked into a booth and ordered almost instantly, you now realizing just how hungry you actually were. "What were you doing in that part of town so late?" You finally asked after they brought out a hot tea for him and topped off your coffee. His large hands cradled the steaming mug in front of him, his nose slightly red from the chilly weather outside.
He chuckled slightly. "I forgot my script in the theatre and---for some reason---couldn't stop thinking about it." You nodded hesitantly. "Why were you walking home?"
You shrugged nonchalantly. "Such beautiful weather we're having. Thought I would take an evening stroll," you joked, causing him to chuckle lightly. George's face seemed to glow slightly under the cozy lights of the restaurant, his hair slightly disheveled and damp from the rain. You now got a full sight of the t-shirt he was wearing that commemorated a football team from the graduating year ahead of yours.
There was a beat of silence between you two. "Why..." George tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, attempting to find the right words. You furrowed your brows. "Why do you hate me so much?" If you weren't looking at him, you would have sworn he was smiling behind his question.
"Seriously?"
He nodded. "Seriously."
"You dated my best friend, Sophie, and broke her heart," you answered bluntly.
George sent you a puzzled expression for half a second before grinning slightly. "Yeah, but I was ten."
"Yeah, but now she's twenty-one and we still talk about it," you quipped, taking a sip of your coffee.
He exhaled. "I was... I was ten..." He furrowed his brows. "She was pretty. Hasn't some other guy broken up with her since me?"
You shrugged again. "No, she has this mindset where if she starts getting the feeling that things aren't working, she cuts out."
"She's been dwelling over me for how many years?" He couldn't fight the grin threatening to creep across his face.
You bit the inside of your cheek in thought. "I guess that would be twelve years." He whistled. "We're good at keeping grudges."
"Well, if I ever run into her, I'll apologize." He added a lump of sugar to his tea. "Is that the only reason?"
You debated ripping him a new one, but the tiredness you felt reflected in his eyes. "It's the kick-off point. Why? Do you wanna be buddies now?" You joked, sticking your spoon in your mouth.
He rested his hand in his chin. "Nah," he pursed his lips in thought. You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, letting a titter escape your lips. "You're too young for me." You laughed a bit harder.
"Age is just a number, baby," you hummed and he smirked at you, a sparkle in his eye.
Comment if you would like to be tagged in the next part! Let us know what you think!
#george mackay#george mackay x reader#george mackay imagines#george#1917 imagines#1917#imagine#reader insert#george mackay angst#angst#fluff#rain
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hello! could i get kenma, kuroo and iwaizumi with reader who plays video games and gets super competitive? and sometimes when theyre really focused and the boys maybe disturb them they get a bit snappy? tysm!!!
Hello nonie! I was actually looking forward for this request!! I love playing video games so much so this was fun, and I also love these boys!! I based the games I chose entirely on my personal love for Nintendo! I hope that is fine!! I hope you like them!! (Also I have to post these on mobile bc we are locked out for the moment, if there are any errors I’ll fix them ASAP)
____________________________
Iwaizumi
The silence was unnerving, were it not for the happy racing music the tension would be unbearable.
Iwaizumi sat on the rug at the foot of his bed, brows furrowed and gaze intense, fixed on the television that stood on a desk before them. Y/N bit their lip as the race started, sitting on the bed as their legs lay at the sides of their boyfriend. This was the one and only all or nothing, if they won they would get a fairly deserved box of chocolates, and the sweetest treat of them all, victory .
It was a normal afternoon as every other, Y/N was out and about on their boyfriend Iwaizumi’s house, it was bound to be a lazy day, loose shirts and pants were worn comfortably by the two of them.
The sun was setting when a wonderful idea occurred to Y/N, mario kart; three races, two players and one winner.
“Hajime…” They smiled as they leaned on his shoulder.
His attention was immediately directed to them, as he lay his head on theirs, humming in acknowledgement.
“How about we play Mario Kart? Three races and a box of chocolates for the winner, what do you say?”. Iwaizumi furrowed his brows,thinking about it, and with a smile he stood up.
“Deal.”
Y/N yelped as he wrapped his arms around them to lift them up, carrying them to his room. The game was officially on.
They sat down next to each other on the bed, playfully elbowing each other, the first race was just about to start. Y/N took the lead on the first lap and Iwaizumi, as hard as he tried, couldn’t keep up.
Feeling the need to concentrate in order to win, Iwaizumi slid to the floor closer to the television, Y/N shuffled to the position they currently held, he could feel their breath on his neck, intense.
The next round seemed to be his, which Y/N took with little grace, sticking their tongue out to their boyfriend, which turned to them with a very smug-looking smile.
However that meant this was the round that mattered most. The first lap was down and Y/N was once more in the lead, with their boyfriend close behind.
If they kept it up like this he would have to admit defeat; he stopped furrowing his brows as an idea came to mind and an evil smirk slid onto his face. Eyes still fixed on the game, as the second round carried on he shuffled to the side, now both of Y/N’s legs were hanging at his right side, they did not pay this too much attention considering how all-out for the win they were.
Last lap, Iwaizumi was just behind, Y/N was now smirking, glare in occasionally screaming at the tv as they doged green shells and banana peels.
In the spur of a moment however, a strong hand pulled them down in one swift movement, making them slide right into Hajime’s lap, whose hand returned to the controller just in time, as Y/N let go of theirs, taken aback by the sudden change of position and the sensation of falling. Their car stopped just as Iwaizumi’s crossed the finish line.
“Seems like I won Y/N”, he said contempt, eyes closed as he innocently smiled at them.
However, when he looked at Y/N who was laying on his lap his smile faltered, he usually was the intimidating one but good lord did they look mad.
“Iwaizumi! How dare you!?” They snapped at them, clearly angry at the boy, shuffled out of his lap and onto the floor next to him. They were about to say something else when strong hands held their arms, eyes meeting their boyfriends slightly panicked expression.
“Don’t worry Y/N, the victory was yours truly, and I promise I will get you your chocolates”. However, he knew it would take more than that to get them to forgive him, still he would say their current adorable pouty expression was worth it.
Kuroo
This was all too familiar to Kuroo, Y/N was laying with their head on his lap, however they were far from focused from him, instead they were intently fixated on the game in their hands. He did not mind, considering he was used to this antics from Kenma, so he absentmindedly played with their hair as he read a book he intended to catch up on.
They were thoroughly focused, tongue slightly sticking their tongue out and once in a while yelping or jumping, clearly struggling to pass a level.They squealed, Kuroo stopped reading and looked at them, adorable as the light lit up their face, squinting at the difficulty of the boss they were facing.
Kuroo ran his hand through their hair, “Hard level, kitten?”
Y/N eyes drifted to him momentarily as they paused the game, a small pout forming on their lips as they nodded. “I can’t seem to pass it, I can’t figure it out”
They showed him the game, Legend of zelda, stuck in a boss fight with only half a heart left. Kuroo hadn’t exactly played that one game yet, but he had played enough Legend of Zelda with Kenma to know what this was all about. Y/N returned their focus to the game, completely drifting away from Kuroo. He was not interested in the book anymore, he needed their attention but knew he wouldn’t get it until they were satisfied.
“Y/N, I have an idea” He spoke up, making them momentarily flash him a glance to acknowledge that he had got their attention.
“Let’s see who is able to pass the level first, if I win you have to come with me to get some coffee”.
They paused the game and looked at their boyfriend who was smiling down at them, squinting their eyes they sat down, “And if I win?”.
“Then I’ll go and fetch you coffee while you play, sounds good kitten?”. A small smile spread on their face.
“You got yourself a deal Tetsu”. Kuroo smirked and planted a kiss on their cheek, gabbing the console.
Five times, five times each of them had tried to pass the level and failed, however they had gotten the hang of it, it was now just up to the execution.
While Kuroo was good playing video games, there were two people he could never win to; Kenma and Y/N. It was Y/N’s turn now, they had already gotten the hang of it, it was just a matter of time before they passed the level.
Kuroo had to do something if he wanted to get you outside with him for a while, and he had to do it fast. He had also gotten the hang of the game, he just needed one more round but this one seemed to be the one for you.
He turned to look at Y/N, their lips pouted as their eyes moved avidly from side to side of the screen, that's when the idea came to his head.
Kuroo smirked, he scooted closer over to them, pretending to look at the screen as they were almost about to win. He looked at their sides, vulnerable as their hands were holding the console. Playing innocent, he ran a hand down their back, stopping right on the middle.
Y/N squirmed out of Kuroo’s grasp, gasping for air and trying their best not to drop the console. His hands however did not move from their ticklish spot.
“Let...go...of..me Tersurou!” They begged in between laughs. The game long forgotten, they managed to scurry away.
“Your laugh is adorable you know?”
Y/N looked at the screen, the legend game over plastered across it. Glaring, they turned to their boyfriend, who was still smiling innocently.
“You know how pissed I am right?” They huffed as they crossed their hands over their chest. Grabbing the console they started to leave to the other room.
“Just so you know, we are not getting any coffee”
Kuroo pouted, rushing to hug them from behind. “Even if it comes with your favorite cake?”
Y/N raised and eyebrow and smiled, “Fine ...I just have to actually pass this level”
“You got it kitten”
Kenma
It was a normal day at your house, Y/N and their boyfriend naturally playing video games. Taking turns to choose exactly which game to play. Leaning softly against each other, ocasionally turning to kiss Kenma’s cheek as he watched them play Detroit. He loved the story and the game, however the two of them had been playing for a while now and he wanted something a little more challenging.
“Let’s play smash” he suggested, a small smile on his face.
He knew Y/N well and playing competitive with them was one of his favorite things, they were a worthy match to his wit and it amused him. It was always a close call, however he knew they could only play for so much ,considering their competitive nature.
“You know me well Kozume” smiling they stood up and changed the game, mind set on the challenge, their boyfriend could easily out best them, but not today.
Kenma is not a known as a prodigy strategiest for nothing, he knew exactly how to read their every move, specially since he had grown accustomed to them after dating for so long.
Y/N knowing this all too well, had developed a dynamic strategy, and while fooling Kozume was surely a hard job, they had mastered the element of surprise.
Kenma was pleasantly surprised by this, they were putting a challenge harder than the usual. They were both down to one life each was down to one life and he was taking too mucho damage for his liking.
Drastic measures were to be taken, if their game was surprise he would resort with a little trick up the sleeve of his own.
Cupping their cheek he placed a soft kiss on their lips, knowing exactly how things would go down.
Their eyes opened wide, taken aback by the unusual boldness of the usually collected boy. They wouldn’t go as far as to say that affection from him was unusual, as Kenma liked the attention between closed doors. He liked to be next to them, specially when they wrapped their arms around him or just made small contact, but to kiss them out of nowhere? That was new.
They found this pleasant, sinking into his sweet lips, oblivious to his true intentions. As soon as they closed their eyes he took the chance he was looking for, attacking them as much as he could until he was the ultimate winner.
A small smirk on his face as he pulled back. Now he jus had to live up to the consequences of his actions.
Y/N blinked as they looked the screen, then at Kenma, and back at their screen.
Oh
“You smug little...” they looked at him, squinting their eyes. “I can’t believe I fell for that, you cheater! That is not fair!” All composure lost, they were more annoyed at themselves for not even suspecting anything out of the odd gesture.
Kenma shrugged, not trying to hide the triumphant smirk on his face; “I did nothing wrong...maybe you should one up your game Y/N”, he placed a kiss on their cheek “however, you were an interesting challenge”
“Oh it’s on Kozume”
#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu matchups#haikyuu prompts#kozume kenma#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurō#iwaizumi hajime
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flower shop pt.1 (Foxxay)
Prompt from anon: Foxxay fluff/angst Cordelia has agoraphobia after the acid attack. Misty convinces her to get out of the house and they go to a flower shop together. Pre-relationship/mid-foxxay falling in love, I guess.
written with: @rabexxpaulson and there will be 2-3 more parts bc of how long this ended up being. we hope y’all really enjoy this. sorry it’s taken so long to start posting these one-shots. we have this and the next one already done, and will hopefully be posting 2 times a week until we’re caught up to where we currently are!
Misty had noticed that since she had met Cordelia, her aura was dimmer than anyone else's, besides Fiona that was. She could sense that her headmistress was depressed, gloomy, and even anxious about a lot of things. She hadn't seen the woman in a few days, which was worrying her with each day that had passed. She was used to seeing Cordelia in the greenhouse, but when the woman hadn't shown up for a few days, it made her a little sad, she missed her friend.
When Cordelia didn't show up to the greenhouse for the fourth day in a row, Misty knew she needed to take it upon herself to talk to her, and hopefully get her out of the house.
Cordelia didn't feel like seeing people – she couldn't even if she wanted to. After the acid attack, her self-esteem had gotten even worse, and the house she once knew as her well as her own fingertips was now a sea of darkness where she couldn't even find her own inner light. The hours became days and the days became weeks. Cordelia no longer cared to work on her crafts or in the papers she was supposed to, and Fiona didn't help much with all the depreciating comments she always did. The only place she cared to be was her room, one she was beginning to learn every step and every pattern of.
Misty finally took it upon herself to find Cordelia, which wouldn't be hard. She knew the headmistress was most likely in her bedroom, it seemed to be the only place she ever was anymore. Misty knew isolating yourself didn't make your problems any better, so she made her way from the greenhouse to the second floor of the academy. She stood in front of Cordelia's bedroom door, slowly raising her hand to knock on the white wood.
Cordelia couldn't read anymore. She couldn't watch TV or catalog the plants and potions and spells. All she could do was lay down and sleep. Sleep was good, she could dream and be away from reality. She could pretend Fiona wasn't there. She could see Misty with her beautiful blonde curls and shiny blue eyes... that was her favorite part. Turning around on the bed, she sighed loudly. Cordelia was never one to stay in bed much. She felt useless.
Misty's knuckles softly met the wood in a gentle knock. She took in a shaky breath as she knocked on the door four times, just enough to see if Cordelia was awake or not.
One. Two. Three. Four knocks. Who'd knock four times? The usual was three. Cordelia sat up and hazily fixed her messy hair. It could only be Misty. Misty Day was the only person Cordelia was always in the mood to see. "Come on in."
Misty slowly opened the door to the bedroom. She stepped inside and closed it behind herself. Her eyes scanned the room, and she smiled to herself when she saw the headmistress sitting up in bed. "Hey, Miss Cordelia. It's Misty." She said as if the woman wouldn't know.
Cordelia had acquired a habit of covering herself in all situations. She didn't know if her clothes were totally appropriate, or matching or even clean from her tries of cooking and doing simple tasks. She pulled the covers up to her chin and shrunk in them. The sweet voice invaded her ears. Cordelia wanted to extend her hand and beg for a touch, a glimpse of the younger witch she felt herself falling for. However, she kept it to herself. "Hello, Misty. Everything alright?"
Misty bit her lip as she saw how nervous Cordelia seemed, everything from covering herself more than usual, to the awkward wait between entering the room and actually talking to her. "Yes, well, I think—I hope. Are ya okay? I-I mean, I haven't seen ya in a few days, and I was startin' to worry. Ya feelin' alright?" she asked.
Cordelia gulped softly as she looked down to nothing, gripping the covers tighter. She nodded. "Yeah, I'm just... I don't feel very comfortable outside." Her voice had died to a low and weak tone. She hoped Misty could understand what she meant with 'outside'; anywhere she could be seen.
Misty bit her lip again. She hoped and prayed that Cordelia was okay, and now she knew she wasn't. Hesitantly, she walked over to the bed and slowly sat down on the edge of it. "Miss Cordelia... I get ya, I really do, but stayin' in ya room ain't gonna help. Even if ya can't see the flowers and the pants, I think bein' around then, feelin' them would surely help." She said softly as she looked at the older witch. She felt her heart hurt at the sight of how depressed and saddened Cordelia seemed.
Hearing the steps attentively, Cordelia's body subconsciously shrank even more on the bed. She had to remind herself it was just Misty, and Misty would never hurt her. She wished she could at least see her one time. Forcing herself to relax, Cordelia looked to where the so well-known voice was coming. She worried her dry lower lip with her teeth. "I-is... is Fiona here?" It was stupid, she knew, a thirty-eight-year-old woman still somehow afraid of her own mother. In better times, she could handle Fiona; but right now, she felt weak and small and even more invisible than she already felt when she could see the world around her.
Misty's brows furrowed for a moment. She knew Fiona was a bitch. She had heard stories from the other girls about some of the things Fiona had said and done to Cordelia—unbelievable things. "She's not. I haven't seen her for a few days..." she said softly. She scooted closer to Cordelia and softly held out her hand, "Can I hold ya hand?" she asked softly.
The bed moved. Cordelia reminded herself it was Misty, and she actually wanted Misty's touch. Letting out a small relieved breath at the good news, the question cheered her soul a little. Cordelia nodded, offering her pale - paler - hand to Misty, letting it slip from underneath the covers. "I-I just don't know if I can manage b-being... with people." Not seeing the world was even scarier than seeing it, Cordelia had learned. All the sounds and touches and voices and rough, different even if known patterns overwhelmed her in a way. The dosage of her pills had already gone up, but she doubted she could actually be alright if she stepped outside of the room.
Misty frowned, but she nodded softly. "I understand, Miss Cordelia... what if it were just me though? That wouldn't be too bad then, would it?" she asked as her hand slowly and softly caressed Cordelia's that laid on her own.
The touch brought her comfort. Cordelia saw her again, Misty Day; the blue eyes she made sure to think about to keep them alive in her mind, the angelic smile and the fuzzy curls. Instead of sad memories, like the first time they had touched, Cordelia saw Misty smiling and taking care of her and the academy's - her own - plants. Misty was the only one to check on her, to help her and think about her. It was a different kindness. It was a different feeling. It was... pleasingly weird. Her pale fingertips brushed over Misty's. It was the best she had felt in a while. "B-but... would we go out?"
Misty smiled softly as she watched Cordelia's facial features change into something happy. She wondered if she was having another vision, but she didn't ask, not now at least. "That's up to ya, really. If you'd like we can go out, just the two of us. Maybe we could grab somethin' to eat, get some seeds for some new plants. I've been thinkin' 'bout what we could plant next." She said with a bright smile.
Getting some new seeds was an amazing idea. Cordelia wondered if she'd ever see the plants again. She smiled a little, a barely noticeable thing. "I'd like to get some seeds... smell some flowers..."
Misty smiled softly when she saw the smallest smile on Cordelia's lips. She continued to caress the woman's hand. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to lose your sight, so she figured a small touch would be better than not seeing. "I was thinkin' maybe it'd help ya. Maybe even gettin' ya hands a little dirty from plantin' them would help. I know bein' in the greenhouse or my garden always helps when I ain't feelin' myself. Plus, I'll be right there to help if ya need it." She offered.
That could certainly be good. Cordelia, in her element, with Misty. Nothing was as good. But... she needed to get dressed. Once again, she began to worry her lower lip with her teeth. "Um..."
Misty furrowed her brows for a moment when the woman's mood changed so quickly. "What is it, Miss Cordelia?" she asked quickly.
"I... I've got to get dressed..." Cordelia's cheeks burned. Only Hank had seen her completely naked before, apart from Fiona and Myrtle.
Misty's eyes dropped for a moment to noticed Cordelia's bra straps. "O-oh... yes, right... do ya, uh, need help. I mean... pickin' somethin' out?" She asked nervously before swallowing hard. The idea of seeing Cordelia in just her underwear, or even naked brought thoughts to her mind she felt were wrong to have about a friend.
Cordelia was still holding Misty's hand; her mind suddenly flashed with dirty, naughty thoughts. But they weren't her own. Misty kissed her lovingly and caressed her bare waist, the other hand falling down to her—she quickly took her hand away from Misty's with a small gasp. She didn't want to see it like that. They were private thoughts, right? "Uh—um, I... I-I... I c-can't really, um," talking was hard. Did Misty have these thoughts about everyone? Cordelia hoped not... even if that wasn't really ethical. Oh boy.
When Cordelia pulled her hand away, her heartbeat picked up in speed. She wondered if Cordelia has seen what she thought for a split second. She gulped as she got off the bed, nearly tripping over her own feet. "Shit," she murmured before finding her balance.
Cordelia gulped again as she squeezed the sheets. She cursed internally. "Misty, are you alright?" she asked as she heard the stumbling. Cordelia felt like she had managed to fuck it up. Again.
Misty's eyes flickered up to Cordelia with a worried gaze. She didn't know what to say and before thinking about the best way to approach the situation, she blurted out: "Ya saw what I was thinkin', didn't ya? I'm s-so sorry..."
Cordelia didn't mean to talk about that now. Her heart picked up in speed. Should she lie? "I... we don't have to talk about it." But she wanted to talk about it. She wanted to talk and do something about it.
Misty bit her lip as she looked down. Her heart was still racing fast inside of her chest. It was so loud she thought Cordelia might hear it. "I-I'm sorry... I know it ain't right." She gulped as her palms grew sweaty. "Ya just so gorgeous, a-and ya so nice to me. I-it's unprofessional to say the least, I know that since you're my teacher 'nd all..." she stopped herself from rambling on further.
Gorgeous. That was the very last thing Cordelia felt like. She bit her inner cheek harshly as she felt herself growing emotional. "D-do you think about those things o-only with me?" Her palms were sweating. She was sweating all over, and even though she only had a sheer nightgown, she felt too hot underneath the covers.
Misty's eyes stayed on the floor. Her hands nervously played with the rings on her fingers. She gulped. "Y-yes, ma'am..." she nodded.
The words were enough to send a spiral of butterflies inside her stomach. Cordelia was somewhat relieved. "D-do you have feelings f-for me?" It was better to ask right away, Cordelia knew that. She didn't want to be played again. She didn't want to get all happy for misunderstanding things.
Misty took a deep, shaky breath. "I-I..." she stammered as her eyes slowly looked back up to Cordelia. "Yes..." she whispered nervously.
Yes. Cordelia's chest tightened up and softened down in a matter of seconds. She let out a deep breath. "Me too," she nearly murmured. "M-me too." Cordelia had never wanted to see Misty more than now.
Misty's eyes grew wide. Her heart nearly stopped for a few beats. Never in her wildest dreams has she ever imagined that Cordelia would feel the same way. "Really?" she grinned shyly.
Cordelia couldn't help but smile a little. She nodded, shyly and hesitantly extending a hand to Misty.
Misty stared at Cordelia's hand before shakily placing one of her own into it. She knew just by the simple touch the older witch would know how nervous she was.
Cordelia was trembling a little, too, and the soft-touch caused her to smile a little. She caressed Misty's hand with her fingertips. "I... I've been having those feelings for a while..."
Misty hesitantly sat back down to the bed, but this time a little closer to Cordelia. She could tell the woman was just as nervous as she was. "R-really?" she asked.
Cordelia nodded, shyly snuggling closer to Misty as she held her hand a little firmer.
Misty bit her lip before moving again so she was sitting beside Cordelia against the headboard. "So..." she chuckled nervously. "What's this mean?" her hand nervously caressed Cordelia's.
Cordelia was so nervous she kept fingers a little stiff. "I... I don't know..." she gulped. "Um... should we go out still?" she was panicking.
Misty smiled softly. "If ya still want to. If ya don't, I understand. We can go to the greenhouse and talk." She offered softly.
"I think... I think it'd be great to go out. Yeah." Cordelia took a deep breath.
Misty smiled softly. "Would you like me to help you pick something out?" She asked.
Cordelia nodded. "You... you're not ashamed of going o-out with me?"
Misty furrowed her brows as she shook her head. "Not at all, why would I be, Miss Cordelia?" she asked.
Cordelia shrugged. "It's me... most girls here are..."
Misty still didn't understand. Her hand gently squeezed Cordelia's. "Well, I dunno 'bout the other girls, but I ain't ashamed to be seen with ya... I like ya a lot, Miss Cordelia." She said as her thumb ran over the woman's knuckles.
Cordelia felt so miserable. She sniffed back a few tears before letting her head rest on Misty's shoulders. She felt so safe. "I like you, too, Misty." With trembling lips, she kissed what she could reach of Misty's neck.
Misty felt her heart wanting to leap out from her chest. The kiss sent a wave of new butterflies through her stomach. She took in a shaky breath before turning her head. She used her free hand to softly and gently cup Cordelia's cheek. Her thumb slowly ran over the part of the woman's cheek that wasn't injured from the acid. She was mindful of the small things. Gently, and almost hesitantly, she pressed her lips to Cordelia's in a soft kiss.
As her cheek was cupped, Cordelia felt what was coming. She reminded herself not to squeeze Misty's hand and, before she could even process what was going on, there was a pair of desired, dreamed of lips were against her own. She kissed Misty back just as softly, letting out a breath in satisfaction.
Misty didn't stay there long, she worried about kissing Cordelia too much that it would overwhelm the both of them. She pulled away gently, noses touching still. There was a wide smile on her face.
As they pulled away, Cordelia bit her lower lip. She held back a giggle as she smiled brightly to herself. Slowly, her hands moved to cup both of Misty's cheeks. "I wish I could see you," she said softly.
Misty couldn't help but smile when she saw the smile on Cordelia's lips. Her smile turned sad when she heard the woman's words. "Me too... I wish I could give ya my eyes."
Smiling sadly, Cordelia began to softly explore Misty Day's face. Her fingers passed on her cheeks, forehead, eyebrows, lips... she sighed. "Isn't it stupid?" she said softly. "How we can literally go to Hell and back but can't help cure diseases or disabilities?"
Misty closed her eyes for a moment. "Ya never know... I-I've looked in some books that I thought could help. I ain't found nothin' yet, but I ain't givin' up." She said.
Cordelia offered a small smile. "Thank you," she said softly, yet her voice carried all the sincerity in the world. "We should... get going?" Cordelia wasn't sure if going out was the best idea, but now she was full of butterflies in her stomach and she wouldn't miss the chance to stay close to Misty Day. Close in a way she didn't think she'd ever been able to actually be.
Misty nodded softly. "Yeah, I have a place or two in mind. Let's get ya up and ready." She said before happily slipping off the bed. She was excited and nervous to see where the day was headed.
Cordelia stepped out as well. She instantly reached for the wall. Her nightgown was a simple black and short. "Okay... c-can you get me a skirt? It can be the long, black one."
Misty tried to pry her eyes away from Cordelia's body. She hadn't seen the woman in anything less than her usual day/work clothes. "Y-yes," she said before walking toward the wardrobe. "Uh, wh-which skirt?" She asked as she tried to calm down.
Cordelia heard the way Misty Day's voice trembled. She sucked on her lower lip. "Um... the black, l-long one."
Misty nodded before grabbing the two items of clothing. "Should I set them on your bed, o-or do ya need help? I can help if ya need me to." She said as she calmed down a little, finally.
Cordelia felt herself getting nervous once again. She gulped. "I... I need some help... I tend to lose m-my balance..."
Misty nodded softly as she set the two items on the bed. She walked closer to Cordelia, softly taking her hands. "That's fine. I can help ya. I really don't mind." She smiled softly.
Cordelia hesitantly wrapped her hands around Misty's, seeing no thoughts this time, but Misty's sight. She gasped.
"What is it?" Misty asked worriedly. She softly caressed Cordelia's hands.
Cordelia smiled brightly. "I can see what you see." She saw herself. The scars were so rough against her pale face. Her smile soon vanished, and she pulled a hand away to touch her face. The image in her head disappeared. She quickly grabbed Misty's hand again.
Misty smiled sadly when she saw Cordelia's reaction. Her free hand moved to cup one of the woman's cheeks. "Ya still so beautiful, Miss Cordelia. I mean, I don't really know what ya looked like before, but you're gorgeous." She said.
Cordelia gulped back a knot in her throat. She felt her eyes getting teary. "I k-know I'm not really beautiful... I never was. B-but this is hard... and so s-shallow," she laughed bitterly at herself, trying to enjoy the touch on her cheek.
Misty's brows furrowed. "Delia, what are ya talkin' about? Of course, ya gorgeous... I mean, ya stunnin' really. Even with these scars. They don't make ya any less then ya are."
Cordelia looked down. She shook her head, taking a shaky, deep breath. "I-it's fine..."
Misty frowned as she caressed Cordelia's have and cheek. "It ain't though, Miss Cordelia. If ya can see through my eyes, I hope ya can see that I see ya like an angel sent from the heavens above." She said.
This time, Cordelia blushed a little. She saw herself, smiling all dumbly. "Can I kiss you again?" she asked dimly.
"Ya ain't gotta ask me, Delia." Misty grinned before lifting Cordelia head softly, just enough so that she could softly press her lips to plump, pink ones.
Cordelia let out a giggle before it was stopped by Misty's lips. She hummed lightly, lowly, as she moved to caress the small of Misty's back.
Misty smiled softly against Cordelia's lips as she kissed her a little harder than the times before. She kept the kisses gentle and light though, she didn't want to take this too fast.
It had been so long Cordelia had been kissed like that. She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly pulling away. Her heart was racing. Her stomach was twirling around.
Misty looked at Cordelia with curious eyes because of her reaction. "Ya okay?" she asked softly.
Cordelia nodded with a small smile. "Yes," she breathed out. "H-help me with the skirt?"
Misty nodded softly. "Course," she said before pulling her hands away from Cordelia's face and hand. She grabbed the skirt from off the bed, walked closer to Cordelia, and held it open. "I'm right in front of ya, hold onto my shoulders." She said.
Gulping loudly, Cordelia felt herself sweating. Hesitantly, she tapped around to find Misty, first feeling her curls and then eventually falling down to her shoulders. God, they were muscular. Once she stabilized herself, she shyly raised a leg up.
Misty smiled softly before moving the skirt so that Cordelia could slip a leg inside. "There ya go," she said softly.
Cordelia felt so useless. She stepped down and lifted the other leg up, biting her lower lip harshly.
Misty was staring down at Cordelia's legs and hadn't noticed the woman's look. She helped her step into the skirt before slowly pulling it up her thighs to rest on her hips. "There ya go," she said.
Cordelia gulped back a knot in her throat. "T-thank you, Misty." She offered a small, weak smile. "Can I hold your hands so I can choose a shirt?"
Misty nodded with a small smile. "Course, ya can. I already grabbed ya one, but ya can tell me if ya like it." She said softly as she softly took Cordelia's hand in her own. She looked at the shirt that was already laid out on the bed, it was a long-sleeved blouse with flowers on it. It was a favorite of her, she thought it just looked absolutely beautiful on Cordelia.
Cordelia nodded as she subconsciously squeezed Misty's hands. It was just so good, to see colors and patterns again. She had missed her room. A smile touched her lips. "I love this one..."
Misty smiled brightly as she squeezed Cordelia's hand back. "I was hopin' ya would. I like seein' ya in flowers." She said softly.
Cordelia couldn't help but feel her cheeks tinting. "Really?"
Misty smiled as she looked at Cordelia. "Yeah, they suit ya. They look pretty on ya, not that ya need help lookin' pretty, or nothin' like that, I just—they look nice."
Now, Cordelia could see herself. She saw the way she was smiling and the way her cheeks tinted more and more. She chuckled and looked down. "Thank you. So do you... in anything."
Misty blushed as well, looking down at her boots. "Thank ya, really... do ya need help with ya shirt too?" she asked.
Cordelia blushed even more. "Mhm..."
Misty nodded softly as she let go of Cordelia's hand so she could grab the shirt. "Alrighty, oh, we gotta get this nighty off first." She said without thinking.
Oh boy. Cordelia blushed all over once again and even more. She nodded. "I-I need a bra..."
Misty nodded softly. "Alright, I can get that for ya, too. Are ya bras in ya dresser?" She asked.
Cordelia nodded quietly.
Misty smiled sadly. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked as her hand went to grab Cordelia's again.
She was nervous. Very. And embarrassed. That wasn't how she wanted their confession of feelings to go like. "Nothing," she gulped. "Um, the black, cotton bra works..."
Misty nodded softly. She squeezed Cordelia's hand once more before letting go. She walked over to the dressed and grabbed the only black bra there was in the top drawer. "Okay, I got it." She said as she walked back. She couldn't help but feel nervous.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cordelia had to take her clothes off. She was bare underneath the nightgown, apart from the skirt she had just put on. Hesitantly, she began taking her gown off, exposing her bare breasts and stomach.
Misty kept her eyes on Cordelia's face. She couldn't let herself see her teacher, her mentor, her crush in such a venerable state. "Can ya, uh, hold up your hands so I can get the straps on ya, 'nd then turn to I can hook it?" she asked softly.
Cordelia felt the chilly breeze on her exposed skin. She nodded and extended her arms, looking down in shame even if she couldn't see anything.
Misty frowned when Cordelia looked away from her. "What's the matter?" She asked in a soft tone as she slipped on the woman's bra.
Cordelia shook her head as she gulped, continuing to face the floor.
Misty furrowed her brows as she frowned. "Miss Cordelia, ya can talk to me, ya know?" she asked before softly motioning for Cordelia to turn by lightly turning her at the hips.
The hands on her hips were strong, warm. Cordelia liked it. She turned, nodding quietly. "I'm j-just not used to depending on others... it makes me feel even more useless."
Misty frowned even more. She pulled her hands away, so she was able to hook Cordelia's bra together in the back. "Ya ain't worthless, Miss Cordelia." She said before pulling her hands away again. It was hard for her to believe Cordelia felt so bad about herself. "At all. And needin' help from someone doesn't make ya worthless. It just means ya needed some help. There ain't nothing wrong with that, like at all." She explained before urging the older woman to turn around again.
Cordelia was tired of crying so much. She saw how her face looked, and how her eyes were so blotchy even, so they were all scarred. Turning once again, she sighed quietly. "I believe I'm not in a very good mental space right now." She said quietly, covering herself with her arms. Cordelia was a crier, but the way she had been sobbing lately wasn't typical.
Misty frowned even more than before. She grabbed the shirt off the bed. "Can I help ya with your shirt?" She asked when she noticed Cordelia was so quick to cover herself.
"Please." Cordelia nodded. She hated herself. She hated to be in such a place. She hated how broken and fragile she looked to the outside world now. She had always been like that inside, but that was only inside.
Misty chewed on her bottom lip as she held the shirt up. "Can ya lift ya arms and I'll put it on ya?"
Cordelia nodded once again, raising her arms. "I'm sorry..."
Misty instantly shook her head. "Whatcha sayin' sorry for?" she asked as she slowly put the shirt onto Cordelia.
Cordelia shrugged. "Being a mess... I guess that's not the Cordelia you are u-used to." She chuckled bitterly. "I understand i-if... I don't k-know."
Misty's brows furrowed again as she shook her head. She tugged the shirt down to Cordelia's waist before softly taking her hands into her own. "Cordelia, ya ain't a mess. And if what?" she asked softly. Her hands ran over the backs of the other blonde's hands.
With hands back on her own, she could see herself again. But she wanted to see Misty. She allowed her fingers to tangle with Misty's. "I-if... you changed your mind..." She could see how sad she looked. How miserable.
Misty frowned again as she shook her head. "Delia, nothin's gonna change my mind about ya. I can promise ya that." She said.
Cordelia saw the way her face changed to a small smile and her stomach twisted around. Letting one of Misty's hands go, Cordelia guided it to her cheek and caressed it. She couldn't see anything anymore, but she felt the soft expanse of Misty's cheek vividly. Her thumb caressed it lovingly. "Thank you."
Misty smiled softly, brightly. "Ya welcome, but ya don't need to thank me..." she said as her now free hand went to Cordelia's cheek as well, caressing it. "Do ya wanna go out still?" She asked.
Leaning into the touch, Cordelia closed her eyes and focused on it. She nodded, and her free hand moved to pull Misty closer by the waist. She still didn't say anything.
Misty smiled softly as she walked closer, now just a mere few inches between them. "Whenever ya wanna go, just lemme know." She said softly, smiling.
Cordelia nodded. She could feel Misty's hot breath tickling her face. Caressing up her waist to her arm and neck, she cupped both of Misty Day's cheeks and caressed them, gently resting her forehead against hers. "You are one of a kind, Misty Day." She whispered lovingly.
Misty felt her cheeks burning with a soft blush as she smiled even more than before. She licked her lips that suddenly felt dry as she wrapped her free arm around Cordelia's waist. "Thank ya, Miss Cordelia. Ya are, too. I really mean that. Ya amazing, and wonderful, and gorgeous, and... I could go on forever." She chuckled shyly.
Cordelia chuckled back, stepping closer to Misty; it was impossible. She leaned closer; their lips brushed. She felt the expanse slowly, and then she closed the gap. Her stomach filled with the crazy butterflies once again.
Misty felt her breath hitch in the back of her throat as she slowly and softly pressed their lips together. The kiss was soft, light, loving even. The hand that was wrapped around the woman's waist softly caressed the small of her back.
Cordelia felt her throat getting clouded with a bubble of warmth and excitement and love and everything she hadn't felt in so long. Her lips moved softly and so, so passionately against Misty's. She wanted to stay like that forever.
Misty's lips curved upward into a smile, which in turn broke the kiss. "Sorry," she giggled shyly.
Cordelia smiled as she let out a giggle back, caressing Misty's cheeks and allowing her hands to go down to her waist, caressing her sides. "I love your laugh..."
Misty blushed even more as she looked down shyly. "I love yours, too. It's cute, like the rest of ya." She said.
Cordelia giggled a little louder this time. She smiled brightly as she bit her lower lip, and her hand slipped down to find Misty's. "Come here." She guided them to the bathroom—to what she thought was the bathroom. Cordelia was about to collapse onto the wall.
Misty was quick to pull Cordelia close to her, stopping her. "Where are ya headed? Ya almost ran into a wall, and it'd be a damn shame if ya had a bruise on that pretty face of yours." She said softly.
Cordelia gasped as she was pulled back. Misty was strong, and she was weak from being in bed so much. Her body bounced back against Misty's. "Oof—" it hurt a little. She nearly fell. "Sorry—the bathroom."
Misty's eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she realized she had been rough with Cordelia. "I-I'm the one that should be sorry. I-I didn't—I... didn't mean to hurt ya if I did..." her voice was slightly shaky as she grew nervous.
Cordelia's whole body hurt. She felt as if she had been ran over, which caused her to feel even worse for how weak she had become. "It's okay." She reached for both of Misty's hands now, caressing them as she turned to her. "It's okay," she reassured once again as she began seeing what Misty was seeing.
Misty gulped as she nodded softly. She felt the slight sting of tears starting to appear, but she quickly blinked them away as she tried to smile. "I'd never meant to hurt ya, Miss C-Cordelia."
Cordelia frowned as her vision got blurry for a second. She put two plus two together, watching herself through Misty's eyes. "Misty... are you crying?" her voice dripped with love and affection.
Misty sniffled as she looked down. "I'm tryin' not to..." she mumbled.
The sight in her mind went down. Cordelia could see their feet. Her stomach tightened. "Misty... sweetheart..." she let go of one of her hands, seeing nothing once again. Cordelia blindly reached to Misty Day's waist, caressing it. She was getting better at knowing her body already. "Sweetheart, it's okay. I know you'd never hurt me... I trust you in a way I've n-never quite trust anyone before."
Misty sniffled as she looked back up. "Really?" she asked before wiping her tears away. "Cause I know the feelin'... it's why I got so scared. I-I'd never mean to hurt ya." She said softly.
"Really." Cordelia nodded with a small smile. "Don't be scared... you radiate joy, Misty Day. Kindness, light... protection. You're as pure as a diamond, like a flower blooming in the spring. I trust you."
Misty blushed bright red as she chuckled shyly. "I dunno if I'd say all that, but thank ya, Delia... I mean it. You're all that and more to me." She said.
Cordelia blushed. "I'm glad you think so highly of me," she chuckled shyly. Her hand squeezed Misty's waist a little. It was so firm.
Misty smiled softly, shyly still. "How could I not?" she asked before softly pulling away, just enough so she could start guiding Cordelia towards the bathroom. "Alrighty, what did ya need in here?" she asked.
Cordelia chuckled and looked down, walking a little more carefully now. As she felt the floor getting colder underneath her feet, she smiled shyly. "I want to see you..."
Misty smiled shyly as she looked up at herself in the mirror. She grabbed Cordelia's hand, so she could see what she did. Her hair was in its usual messy curls, her eyeliner was smudged under her eyes from not washing it away the day before, and her freckles were a little brighter from spending so much time outside.
Cordelia instantly saw the image flashing in her mind. She squeezed Misty's hands a little before smiling, biting her lower lip. Misty was breathtaking just as she remembered, but even more so now, smiling. Cordelia was in awe.
Misty blushed as she saw the look on Cordelia's face. She smiled shyly as she looked down. "Wish I could give ya my eyes or somethin'."
Cordelia shook her head as she now saw the floor. She squeezed Misty's hands. "Don't say such a thing..."
"I just mean so ya don't feel so bad," Misty explained as she looked back up, trying to remind herself that Cordelia could see through her eyes.
Instantly, Cordelia smiled once again. She nodded, lost in the sight inside her head. She let go of one of Misty's hands to hug her from behind, quickly grabbing it once again. Her head rested on her shoulder as she now saw them both together. It looked... weirdly nice.
Misty couldn't help but smile, even more, at the action. Her free hand rested over Cordelia's that was around her waist. She felt the swarm of butterflies in her stomach kicking up again—going crazy with nervousness, but a good nervousness.
Cordelia was mesmerized. She stared at the mirror, hands caressing Misty's. Misty Day was an angel sent from above. Herself, though... she looked paler and thinner and like she hadn't slept for ages. Her hair was a mess. She sighed, although her stomach twirled with happiness.
Misty smiled softly when she saw Cordelia looking so happy. "Can I do anything for ya?" she asked softly.
Cordelia looked down. "You do... you help me as no one else can. I just wish I could help myself..."
Misty frowned softly before turning to look at Cordelia. She softly wrapped her arms around the woman. "Hey, ya can help yaself... sometimes we just need help doin' that. There ain't nothin' wrong with needin' help, ya hear me?" she asked.
Cordelia didn't see anything anymore. She kind of preferred it that way, for the subject now. The arms around herself carried a strange warmth, a strange and missed feeling of being loved. "The thing is that... sleeping is all I've been doing..."
Misty smiled sadly. "There ain't nothin' wrong with sleepin' sometimes. I used to sleep a lot when I was alone 'cause I didn't have nothin' better to do with my time." She explained.
Cordelia was still hesitant to reach and touch Misty. She caressed her waist slowly. "I'm sorry... you shouldn't have been alone for so long. I'm so glad you found us." That was, in fact, the best thing that had happened to Cordelia in ages.
Misty smiled sadly. "It's okay... I feel like I've found what I've always been searchin' for." She said softly. She didn't want to admit, just yet, that it was Cordelia she was talking about. She didn't want to scare her away, but the woman brought her a feeling of safety she had never felt before.
Cordelia smiled softly. "Me too." She, as well, didn't want to admit she didn't think she had felt that way in a long, long time. "Do you mind helping me with my hair...?"
Misty smiled as well as she softly shook her head. "Not at all, Miss Cordelia. What do ya want me to do? I can just brush it, or I can style it. I mean, I ain't that great at doin' hair... mine's a rat's nest, but I know a few things." She chuckled nervously.
Letting out a chuckle, Cordelia shook her head. "I love your hair. And just brush it is perfect. Thank you, Misty."
Misty blushed as she smiled softly. "Really?" she asked as she pulled away slightly. She saw the bench in front of the sink and pulled it out and guided Cordelia to it. "Sit here," she said.
As Misty pulled away, Cordelia played weirdly with her hands. Now that she had "seen" again, being in the dark felt scary. As she walked with Misty, though, she could see the bench, so she followed and sit there. "Thank you, lo... l-love?" her voice cane softly, shyly. She hadn't done that in a while.
Misty's lips curled upward into a shy smile. She let out a nervous giggle. "Ya can call me that if ya want, I don't really mind it. I wasn't sure if I should keep callin' ya Miss Cordelia or not." She said explained as she grabbed the brush off the counter.
Giggling nervously as well, Cordelia looked down. "Miss Cordelia is uptight..."
Misty bit her lip as she lightly took some of Cordelia's hair into her hand to start gently brushing out the ends. "I know... I just ain't real sure what to call ya."
The fingertips on her hair worked so gently. Cordelia hummed lowly. "Have you ever called a loved one something before?"
Misty shook her head softly. "No, not really." She said shyly. She ran the brush through the ends of Cordelia's hair, slowly working her way up to keep in mind of not hurting her or brushing through the tangles she came across.
Cordelia leaned back softly, subconsciously. "What's your favorite flower?"
Misty hummed softly as she kept brushing and running her fingers through Cordelia's hair. "Either lavenders or sunflowers... what are yours?" she asked.
"White roses," Cordelia smiled to herself. And then she chuckled bitterly. "Hank always got me red ones..."
Misty smiled sadly. "Red roses are so borin'. White roses are always better. They're for purity, innocence, and new love." She said with a smile.
Cordelia bit her lip as she smiled softly. "I agree. They, um," she blushed. "They kinda match us."
Misty smiled shyly as she ran her fingers through Cordelia's now brushed out hair. "Ya think so?"
Cordelia nodded. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She hadn't felt this happy and this excited for life in a while.
Misty couldn't help but smile even more when she saw how genuinely happy Cordelia seemed. It warmed her heart. "Would ya like to eat while we're out? Or do ya just wanna eat somethin' here?" she asked as she set the brush onto the counter.
Cordelia was embarrassed to eat out. To go out, in general. But she thought she was even more embarrassed to be seen by the girls. Which was absolutely stupid, but she couldn't help it. "Hm... out, I suppose..."
Misty could notice the conflict on Cordelia's face. She gently took one of her hands and caressed it softly. "It's really up to ya... we could even grab somethin' and go eat somewhere else. The flower shop I wanna take ya to has some seats and benches outside. We could eat there." She suggested.
The hand on hers always felt so warm and welcoming. Cordelia could see again. She saw herself in the mirror. Misty's eyes were always on her. It made her blush and tingle all over with happiness. "That sounds very sweet..."
Misty smiled brightly. "I think so too! What would ya like to eat? We can have anythin'. I could even make us somethin'." She suggested.
Cordelia giggled once again. It was impossible not to, with Misty being so cute and with all the butterflies in her stomach. "What's your favorite food?"
"Strawberries and chocolate, but that ain't really a meal." Misty chuckled shyly. "What's yours?"
Cordelia chuckled. Her insides were full of love. "I don't really know... oatmeal?"
Misty smiled softly as she chuckled. "Oh, come on, everyone's got somethin' they love. Their guilty pleasure food." She said as she caressed Cordelia's hand more with a bright smile. Her stomach swirled with happy butterflies.
Cordelia laughed, twirling their fingers together. "It used to be you..."
Misty blushed as she looked down. "I'm ya guilty pleasure?" She asked.
"Yeah..." Cordelia blushed fiercely. "You know... you like it, but you can't tell."
Misty bit her lip as she nodded. "I know exactly whatcha mean." She said softly.
Cordelia bit her lip as well, caressing Misty's hand still. "So... what about we buy some bagels and some strawberries and chocolate?"
Misty smiled brightly again. "How'd ya know I loved bagels?" she asked.
"You eat one every morning," Cordelia answered simply, lovingly.
Misty smiled as she played with the ring that was on Cordelia's finger. She chuckled. "That's true, ya know me so well, darlin'." She said, hoping the pet name wouldn't be too much.
Darling. Cordelia almost squealed. "I... pay attention, that's all."
Misty smiled shyly. "I try to, but sometimes I get too wrapped up in my own thoughts." She said softly.
"That's sweet," Cordelia smiled to herself, still playing with Misty's fingers. They were strong but still soft. It was perfect. Everything about Misty was perfect. She wanted to kiss her again, but she was scared of being too much.
Misty smiled softly. "Wanna get goin'?" She asked softly as she caressed Cordelia's hand again.
Cordelia nodded. "Yes, please. Do you... um, shoes..."
"Oh, right!" Misty said before slowly pulling her hand away. "Which pair would ya like?" she asked.
"Black flats, please." Cordelia smiled shyly.
Misty found them near the bathroom door. She brought them back into the bathroom and knelt down to the floor. "I'm right here." She said before slowly lifting the woman's foot to slip the shoe on.
Cordelia hated it so much. She liked being independent, she wasn't used to counting on other people. Shyly, she allowed her foot to slip into the shoe. "Thank you," she said once again.
"Ya ain't gotta thank me," Misty said softly as she helped Cordelia into the next shoe.
"Still..." Cordelia settled her feet and hesitantly began to get up.
Misty got up from the floor and gently took one of Cordelia's hands again. "It's okay, really. I don't mind helpin' ya if ya need me to." She explained as she guided Cordelia back toward the bedroom.
Now holding Misty's hands again, Cordelia could see. She followed Misty, nodding softly. "This is the best I've looked in ages," she chuckled.
Misty smiled sadly. "Ya always look amazin'. What are ya talkin' about?" She asked.
"You're such a sweet thing, aren't you?" Cordelia couldn't actually believe Misty thought those things about her.
Misty chuckled shyly as she looked down. "That's ya." She said.
Cordelia laughed as she shook her head. "Shall we?"
Misty smiled brightly. "Yes, we shall." She said before guiding Cordelia toward the door.
Cordelia followed with Misty, nervousness crawling in her stomach. Being out after so long felt very weird.
Misty could sense Cordelia's nervousness. "Hey, it's okay. Ya got nothin' to be nervous about." She said.
Except, she did. She had to deal with being blind, with receiving pitiful stares and, now, with stares about her new, if she could call it like that already, relationship with Misty. She nodded, though, lacing their fingers together. I do love her in a way.
Misty frowned when Cordelia didn't say anything. She stopped just before the stairs and gently caressed the woman's hand. "Please talk to me."
Cordelia saw herself once again. She looked so distressed, so pathetic... her head hesitantly looked up to Misty. "I'm just nervous," she said softly.
Misty frowned even more. Her free hand came up to softly caress Cordelia's cheek. "Ya ain't gotta be nervous. I promise. If anyone says or does anything I'll slap 'em for ya, okay?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood and lift Cordelia a little.
Usually, Cordelia would have given a moral speech to Misty. But that wasn't usually. She chuckled lovingly. "Thank you, Misty." Her free hand caressed Misty's waist, and she leaned closer to kiss her lips until...
#tw agoraphobia#cordelia foxx#cordelia goode#cordelia x misty#misty day#misty and cordelia#foxxay#goode day#gooday#AHS#ahs fanfic#ahs coven#american horror story#american horror story coven#coven#fanfiction#fanfic#lesbian fanfic#fluff#angst
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A Cheat IV
How about when y/n is engaged with her boyfriend and how happy she is with her life but harry is still miserable. He misses her so much that he begs her to take him back, like literally begging. He tells her that he’ll do anything bc it hurts him to see her getting married with someone else. But y/n isn’t having any of it so she tells him “you already took my heart for granted and left me broken. But now i finally found my happiness again, you’re going to take that away from me too?”
Summary: Harry cheats, Y/N is happy
Warnings: angst
Word count: 3.6k
“That’s what I hoped and gee thanks, have fun with yours too if you ever get over me,” Harry smirk at her menacingly.
She rolls her eyes, burning from the tears she held back. She remains strong.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Y/N couldn’t believe how well things have been going for her. In the past eight months after her and Harry’s horrid conclusion to their relationship, Y/N had finally graduated from university after four grueling years of late nights and caffeine coursing through her system. She had gotten a puppy—something that she’d always wanted, but never took the initiative to get one. After tossing her cap in the air during the ceremony with Alan beside her, she was offered a job at a well-known law firm only a few weeks after. Everything is going great.
Not a few days ago, Alan had proposed to her and the engagement ring on her pinky finger was proof of a powering relationship, glimmering against the light of her wooden work desk serving as a backdrop. She smiles to herself, thinking how things finally turned around for her. One of her coworkers passes by, noticing the jewelry adorning her finger and stops to eye her suspiciously, a smile stretching over her face before squealing as Y/N nods shyly. She congratulates Y/N before walking away to her own table.
Y/N’s phone ‘dings’.
Alan
“hey babe, im cooking dinner tonight
what do u want? :))))”
She sighs with satisfaction, having someone supporting her through everything made her feel wanted. Alan is the perfect match for her. Regardless of dating for only six months (they've known each other since high school), he’s been a sturdy shoulder to lean on during the past two where she altered between crying over Harry or being a strong, independent woman that has had enough of being treated like shit. When he asked her out, granted a bit timidly since he wasn’t exactly sure if she was ready to move on, she hesitated but she trusts Alan. She also told herself that not all men are like Harry.
-----
Irene and Harry’s relationship didn’t last long after Y/N caught them in the bathroom. Actually, it ended not too long after. Since Harry’s attention was focused solely on her, Irene took advantage of that and asked him to purchase her a bunch of things that she ‘probably didn’t need’, Harry thinks. I mean, did she honestly need four of the same bags in different colours? Or having Harry book five-star restaurants around the city to celebrate Irene's friend's brother-in-laws birthday? Ridiculous. The price didn’t bother him as he had enough money to buy an island, but hearing her talk his ear off about a new Versace handbag or the recent fall line of Jimmy Choo heels that she just had to get her hands on; he’s had enough. Before officially officially splitting from Y/N, Irene had asked him to buy her stuff, sure, but it used to be minute things like a new perfume or some brand-name makeup. But now, it’s as if she thought her name was titled to Harry’s earnings, threatening to break up with him if he didn’t comply.
At first, he gave in to everything, mistaking the fear of Irene leaving him as something he was deathly afraid of. But now, realizing that the feelings he held for were nothing but sexual infatuation, something exciting and thrilling in his life. Now that he had nothing to hide, his life was giving an off vibe–yearning for Y/N’s presence. Yes, Harry missed Y/N.
He first felt a twinge in his heart in that bathroom, slowly but surely, it kept coming back stronger and more frequently. It happened especially before bed, when Y/N would usually speak to him about her day or ask him about his, or even caress him with gentle touches to calm him before sleeping, he misses her gestures that he only thought of as pestering and nagging during the last few months, but really it was nothing more than actions of love and concern. Irene never gave him a second glance, she cuddled into his chest, manicured razor sharp nails scratching his chest as if to be done as a calming notion, but Harry feels it as a burning sensation that urged him to shift uncomfortably from the woman beside him.
Irene was different from Y/N, stating the obvious. Y/N cleaned the house routinely, cooked the most flavourful dishes, and stocked the kitchen and bathroom with supplies efficiently. Harry believes in splitting the workload and chores between people who lived in the house –which was both of them– but Y/N took special charge in the household activities, saying that Harry needs his rest after being busy the whole day. He feels like a jerk sometimes knowing that she was stressed too, yet she continues to work harder than anyone he’d ever met. Besides that, his comparison was that Irene was rather unforgiving with chores. She’d requested many times that Harry hire someone else to do the work for them, she didn’t even live with him! Saying that her nails were too expensive or that her hands were too precious to handle the pressure of cleaning anything in the house. And when Harry did hire someone, she looked down on the helper as if she had the right to do so. Harry powered through her attitude for the good—recently mediocre— sex and the company.
As things got worse, he didn’t know how much more of Irene he can handle. When he received the news that she was cheating on him with her boss, he snapped. He spoke to that guy in person about giving Irene a promotion and this was how they repaid him. Frankly, it didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought; it didn't hurt as much as his break up with Y/N. He was relieved that she wasn’t going to be around anymore. But all things have an equal and opposite reaction because now, Harry felt extra lonely.
The slight twinge in his heart built into something grander when he was left alone with his own thoughts. Replaying his memories with Y/N trying to see where it went wrong. And at that moment, Harry realizes that it was all his fault. He was the reason why they drifted, he was the reason why she packed her things and left their house with nothing but a few stacks of bills in her hands to last for a few months because he’d essentially kicked her out of his life. What was he thinking?
-----
Y/N was on her lunch break for the day, deciding to grab food at the cafe a few blocks from the firm. She was hastily carrying herself through crowds of people with somewhere to go. Once she arrived, she stands behind a lengthy line of customers waiting to state their order to the cashier. Although Y/N rarely strays from getting her regular items, she scans the menu briefly anyway.
Her turn comes, ordering and paying for her food, she was asked to wait on the left side. The main entrance bell chimes, indicating that someone new had either left or entered the café.
Harry walks in with his grandpa hat covering much of his hair and he hopes that it's doing a good job at disguising his face. His hands held tight in his pockets as his lanky legs move him to the line-up. He did not need to look at the menu since he always gets his coffee black. Instead, his eyes scan the area, looking for watchful eyes from people who have recognized him or casually inspecting his surroundings for the sake of it. His eyes land on a familiar head of hair that he has to blink thrice to make sure of what he was really seeing.
There stood Y/N clad in her matching pantsuit, hair in a ponytail and a bag clutched on her elbow. She looks sideways and he was blessed with a side profile of her face. Oh, how he misses her. He decides to take a detour from his usual escapades and makes a beeline towards her.
"Hey"
Y/N turns around, face visibly displaying a mixture of disappointment, confusion, and anger upon seeing Harry.
"Hi," she says curtly, before turning around as her name was called. She grabs her latte and croissant, turning around swiftly before lightly knocking shoulders with Harry's broad ones, make an escape route to the exit. Even though she still had an hour or so left on her break, she doesn't think that she could handle spending any more time with Harry in the vicinity. So she exits and makes it out on the street that has cleared some during her fifteen minutes indoors.
"Y/N! Y/N, wait. Please," Harry shouts from behind her, weaving his way around people blocking his way to Y/N.
"What do you want, Harry?" You.
"I saw you and wanted to say hi," he explains, eyes finding hers trying to find any kind of emotion that meant she was somehow glad to see him. H finds none.
"Well, you said hi. See you around," Y/N briskly tries to walk away once again but is stopped when he grabs her wrist. A chill makes its way up her spine, heart beating untimely. She gulps.
"Please, Y/N. Let's talk,"
She pretends to look at her watch, rolling her eyes before saying, "Fine. You've got ten minutes,"
The pair walk side-by-side towards a nearby park. The silence between them was uncomfortable for both. Sitting on a bench, Harry shifts his body facing her, clearing his throat.
"I want to apologize for-for what I did before," Y/N can tell that he's nervous by the way his body language breaks down in from of her.
"You mean when you cheated on me and I caught you fucking her brains out in the bathroom? Or was it when you knew that your feelings changed for me but you led me on anyway?" Y/N raises her brows accusingly.
He gulps in response.
"Y-yeah for that. Look, I thought about it and it turns out that I still love you, Y/N. I still have feelings for you,"
She takes a bite of her croissant, shifting her gaze somewhere else and further emphasizing how uncomfortable she was feeling right now.
"And if you'd let me, I want to give it another try. I promise I won't ever do it again. You deserve the world and I'm willing to give it to you. I'll do anything that it takes to have you forgive me," he pleads seriously. If he had to jump off of a bridge for another chance at Y/N's love, he would do it. He will do anything to have Y/N forgive him. Anything.
He was blind without her, lost without any guidance and navigating the world alone. He needed Y/N to tell him that it was gonna be okay when times go rough; he needed Y/N to love him like she did before, the way he does for her right at this very moment. He wants to relive the past where he didn't take her for granted--when they were happy. And if he can't, he might as well give it another shot, to experience the happiness she brought him once again by trying the circumstances. He was ready for it if she was.
"I'm engaged, Harry."
His eyes were like laser beams boring through her face; eyebrows furrowing, lips pursing open and closed and his chest felt crushed from the force of her words. She didn't say in a tone to spite him or make him jealous, it was soft and gentle–merely stating a fact that he obviously missed out on because What?
"Engaged? Y/N, what are you talking about," He spits out nervously, not wanting to accept the truth but wanting to learn more about her status. It’d only been eight months, surely she couldn’t have moved on that fast. You’re one to talk, Harry. He snickers to himself.
"Alan and I—we're getting married," She takes a sip of her beverage, ring glinting against Harry's green eyes and he swears that he just saw his life flash before his eyes.
There it is. The ring that bonded Alan and Y/N together, glistening in the sunlight, taunting him. It rested so gently on her pinky as if it was meant to be there. When Harry imagined this moment, she wore a ring that he had given her because he was the one who got down on a knee, declaring his undying love for her, praising her for her beauty and grace, and asking her the question he'd pictured himself repeat about a hundred times under his breath trying to find the best way to ask her to be his wife.
"Y-you're getting married? Tell me you're lying," He sounds angry, demanding, and in disbelief of what's unfolding right in from of his eyes and ears. "Tell me that you're pulling my leg, love," he says his second statement with great vulnerability, voice cracking in the middle of it to which Y/N retracts her neck, appalled.
"No, I'm not kidding. Why would I do that?" Y/N was confused about why Harry was reacting the way he is right now. Shouldn't he be happy for her? After all, he did break it off between the two of them so he had no right to feel hurt or pained. He had Irene.
"Because I wanted it to be me!" He all but yells at her face. Neck vein straining from the blood rushing to his brain, making him dizzy with the knowledge he just received. Palms sweating profusely forcing him to wipe it on his jeans before he takes hold of her empty hand, taking it in his own which she surprisingly lets him.
"I wanted it to be me. I want you to be mine and now I can't because he—he's the one you're going to marry," A lone tear falls down his eyes, nose starting to get runny from the emotions that overwhelm him. She tries to pull her hand back to herself, but he doesn't let her.
"Why are you crying? You wanted this, you wouldn’t have cheated on me if you didn't want me out of your life," She tries to reason and justifies with his previous actions. Everything was making sense until he spits out the bullshit of still loving her. And even so, why did he wait so long to find her and tell her?
"It was a mistake! I was stupid and a huge asshole, I didn't think of the consequences." He grasps tightly to her hand, fearing that this may be the absolute last time he'll be able to touch her like this. "I took advantage of you, of your love and I shouldn't have because you're the most amazing person in this world. You gave me chance after chance and I didn't deserve any of it b-but I just wished you'd give me another one,"
Harry brings her hand up to his lips, kissing it multiple times while looking in her eyes sincerely.
"I'm glad you know that you already took my heart for granted and left me broken. But now, I finally found my happiness again, you want to take that away from me too? Just so you'd feel satisfied with yourself for getting the girl again?" She pulls away.
"Thanks, I'm flattered but even if I was single, I wouldn't dare give you another chance regardless if you are Harry Styles. I don't care if you can give me the world or anything I want because all I needed was for you to love, trust, and be honest with me." She takes hold of her bag strap blindly, holding her coffee cup in hand and standing up. "You didn't give me any of those,"
Harry stands as well, not prepared to lose her once more. "But I can now! I'll love you so much and I will give every ounce of it out of my body. If that's what you want, I'll do it. Just please,"
"Can't you see, H? I'm happy with Alan now. I've moved on, forgotten about you. For god's sake, I'm getting married!"
Each word she darted out of her mouth was like a gunshot to Harry. Wounds getting deeper and his body feeling heavier than usual, the emotional toll it was giving him was too much for him to handle
"Please. Do the same for yourself. I may not love you the way I did before, but I still care about you," Y/N states gently to Harry. If anything she sees him as a friend, still cares for his well-being. From the short distance, she sees a few girls whispering to each other and pointing at him, obviously recognizing his stance and demeanor.
"But I love you, Y/N! Isn't that enough?"
She only smiles at him before shaking her head, "Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes you have to act on it, and sometimes cheating isn’t a great way to prove that.”
“I hope she was worth it.”
And before he could fire back at a chance to defend himself, the group of girls approaches him suddenly, catching him off guard.
He could hear them requesting to sign their phone cases, could hear the shutter of their phone cameras capturing his dumbfounded face, could hear them chattering about his work and he could hear them praise him for all the things he wasn't. Even with the roar of his crowd performances echoing how much they loved him, nothing beats Y/N's soft voice voicing out an, "I love you, Harry" He feels one girl shake his arm, usually he'd politely ask them to not touch him but at the moment he felt numb.
Because a few meters away, he witnesses Alan and Y/N walking towards each other with the brightest smile on their faces. Greeting each other with a hug, everything about them screamed being in love. Like Harry was, except the girl he adored was loving another man. What hurts the most–when they kissed each others' lips tenderly and his mind plays tricks on him, envisioning that he was the guy that Y/N was with except it flicks back to reality much too soon than he’d like it to be.
His imagination is proof of what could've been him and Y/N spending the rest of their lives together but of course, he’d mess that future up. He stands there wishing he could turn back time, praying to whoever it is up there that could help him find love again. Because his heart continuously breaks seeing her be happy with somebody else.
——- If you like it, shoot me a message If you don’t, pretend you do requests are open!
#harry styles angst#harry#harrystyles#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles writing#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry styles cheating#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry writings#my writing#angst#cheating
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Reviewing time for MAG158 TT_____TT
- Saying the most obvious and unspecific first: this was a very packed, very dense episode which managed to cram so much in just 20 minutes? I’ve relistened to it many times, and I still feel like I’m coming out of it breathless and reeling every time. So many things happening, about the past, about the present, about possible future implications? So many things finally exploding in our faces after having been introduced and/or kept as hanging threats since the beginning of the season, or earlier (Leitner had warned Jon that he had only trapped the Not!Them, not killed it), or later: Peter’s plans, Martin’s perception of the events, Elias’s agenda, what the tunnels had been hiding all along, Julia&Trevor attacking after their previous retreat, Daisy and the call of The Hunt, Jon’s worry for Martin…
The climax of each season had also been the occasion to take a look at who had been lost and how they had impacted characters: in season 1, Jon was explaining that he still wanted to know what had happened to Gertrude (MAG039: “And to top it all, I still don’t know what happened to Gertrude. Officially she’s still missing, but Elias is no help and the police were pretty clear that the wait to call her dead is just a formality. If I die, wormfood or… something else, whatever, I’m going to make damn sure the same doesn’t happen to me.”). In season 2, Jon was realising that Sasha had been dead all along, and given a probable culprit for Gertrude’s murder through Leitner’s mouth (MAG080: “And Sasha… The real one?” “Was that her name? I’m afraid she’s gone. Whatever it does to those it takes, they don’t come back. She’s dead. … Do you need a moment?” / “I believe it was Elias.” “What? Why?” “I assume he discovered we were planning to destroy the Archives.”). In season 3, Gertrude and Leitner(‘s bodies) came back to literally haunt Jon, puppetted by Stranger creatures during The Unknowing, after Nikola had toyed with Jon about Sasha:
(MAG119) NIKOLA: Oh, you caught me~ I’m… Sasha!
ARCHIVIST: Shut up!
NIKOLA: No~! Really, it’s me! Sasha– whatever her name was! Back from the dead, just like you wanted~!
ARCHIVIST: Get away from me, or, or I swear I’ll… I’ll…
[…] GERTRUDE: This is your fault.
ARCHIVIST: It is not! It’s not, I didn’t know, it’s not my fault you died!
LEITNER: No, I suppose not. Me, on the other hand…
MAG158 opened hostilities right away: Peter mentioned Tim (and got immediately shut down by Martin), was using a Leitner book covered in the man’s blood, and then proceeded to free the Not!Them, who was still using its voice from the Not!Sasha time (so maybe a bit of that physical appearance, too?), while Jon, Basira and Daisy got to listen to what appeared to be a recording of Elias and Gertrude’s last interaction and the latter’s murder:
(MAG158) PETER: [INHALE] I’m sure– … what was his name? … Tim! Tim would–
MARTIN: I’d really– … rather not talk about it, Peter.
[…] PETER: Not to mention, if they do change, well – I happen to have something that will change them back.
MARTIN: … That’s a Leitner.
PETER: It is!
MARTIN: And the, em… the blood on it?
PETER: That’s Leitner too!
MARTIN: … Riiight…
[…] MARTIN: Pe–Peter? Peter, there’s a– … Peter, I think there’s something in there…
PETER: Mm-mm. I’d stay quiet if I were you.
[SOUND OF STONE AND BRICK SHIFTING, LOUDER]
NOT!SASHA: [MUFFLED, HEAVILY DISTORTED] Jooo–ooon~!
[SOUND OF STONE AND BRICK SHIFTING, LOUDER, THEN GRADUALLY STOPPING]
NOT!SASHA: [HEAVILY DISTORTED] [PANTS] So you finally decided to let me out, Jon! Joooo–oooon~! … Who’s there?
MARTIN: [PANICKED BREATHING]
[…] ARCHIVIST: Do you remember what happened to Sasha?
BASIRA: That’s the thing that took her?
ARCHIVIST: It was trapped in the tunnels, it– Martin. Something’s happening down there.
[…] GERTRUDE: I’m not really in the mood for nostalgia, Elias. You might have noticed I’m rather busy, so either shoot me or–
[ONE GUNSHOT]
GERTRUDE: [GASP]
[BODY COLLAPSING]
GERTRUDE: … Well… there it is… I thought it would hurt more…
[GUN BEING PUT AWAY]
ELIAS: [SIGH] Pity.
From the start, the episode was a concentration of the people who have been lost, while on the verge of losing more (Daisy losing herself to The Hunt; Martin being wooshed into The Lonely; Jon on the verge of “drowning” while pursuing Martin). This time, it was even more destabilising that we covered events from before the beginning of the series, even though they had been open questions and recurring subjects: Elias/Jonah’s relation to the Institute, the fact that the Archival staff was bound to him/it, Gertrude’s death.
And it happened when everything was going to hell at the same time: there was such a wonderful contrast between Martin and Peter (and Elias’s)’s scenes, which were slow, gave place to words (words and steps echoing over the constant wind-like constant whispers (?) of the Panopticon), and the utter chaos reigning in the Archives, the gunshots and the screams and the mess provoked in Julia, Trevor, the Not!Them and then Daisy’s wakes…
(If I have to pinpoint moments I’m holding a bit dearer than the others, outside of Elias’s laughter (I mean, yeah, that sure happened? I might have relistened to the isolated track a few dozens of time and I still can’t believe it happened), it would be Daisy’s “Promise me.” and Martin’s “Funny. Looks like I was right the first time – it’s probably still a good way to get killed.” because both broke my heart for various reasons. I’ve always been ridiculously weak to the deep background sound that we heard during Martin’s tirade (I mostly associate it to MAG081) – it always gives an atmosphere of solemnity, of gravity, and it just matched perfectly the way Martin was explaining himself, telling his own story. … Almost giving his own statement, or testament.)
OKAY, NOW, THE MEAT OF THINGS. I know, the length of this post doesn’t give it away, but… I’ll go quicker and less rambly than usual, there was simply too much and I only got a week (minus one day bc delay) *cries* (this episode was excellent, okay).
- Gertrude’s murder! Fucking finally:
(MAG043) ARCHIVIST: Part of me worries about what I might find on these tapes, but a… bigger part of me worries that I will find nothing. This uncertainty is wearing on me. And I don’t know how much more I can take.
(MAG052) ARCHIVIST: […] No luck with any of my other leads yet. At least I have another of Gertrude’s tapes. It’s always going to be a shot in the dark with them, but… hopefully an informative one. I know the secret to her death is on one of them, it must be. I just… I hope I don’t have to hear it first-hand.
(MAG066) ARCHIVIST: Gertrude’s laptop has been rather… interesting. Unfortunately, nothing along the lines of “my_murderer.avi”, and she didn’t keep any sort of diary from what I can see.
Well, “my_murderer.wav” heard first-hand counts, right?
* In the same episode, Jon had noticed previous orders made on her computer; Leitner had told Jon that she was planning to destroy the Archives and Elias had mentioned “arson”, so yep! She had indeed tried to get rid of the problem that way:
(MAG066) ARCHIVIST: There’s also the matter of the products she was ordering. There were several online orders of petrol, lighter fluid, pesticides, and high-powered torches. They are sporadic, but notable in that she did not drive, smoke or work in pest control.
(MAG080) 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. They had everything she had found on the Stranger.
(MAG158) [GURGLING LIQUID]
[DOOR OPENS]
ELIAS: Gertrude.
GERTRUDE: [SIGH] … Damn…
ELIAS: Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?
GERTRUDE: I’d rather hoped you’d still be hampered with all The Dark’s business. […] Shame, really; I used to be able to torch a building in half the time. [SIGH] Age catches us all.
[…] 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.
It sounded obvious, especially given how Elias had behaved when Martin had begun to burn statements, but it hadn’t been definitely confirmed until now. Once again, was Gertrude’s fondness for fire and explosions (the old Archives in Alexandria, The Last Feast, the plan for The Unknowing) influenced by her being bound to Agnes from The Desolation…? She seemed to favour these options a lot.
* HHHHHHHHHHHH So, the trick Gertrude had pulled was: Elias was supposed to be distracted because keeping an eye on a ritual attempt (to make sure The Dark ritual derailed okay), then grabbing his attention by setting fire to the Archives, while her real plan lay elsewhere (going down in the tunnels to reach his body and kill it).
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: I’d rather hoped you’d still be hampered with all The Dark’s business. [DOOR CLOSES] It’s their… “Grand Eclipse” at the moment, isn’t it?
ELIAS: [SIGH] But I think we’ve both come to the same conclusion about that. That’s why you’re here. […] So you burn the place down, use it as cover to reach my body, and then we die together.
That’s… that was the exact same plan Martin carried out: knowing that Elias would be keeping an Eye on The Unknowing, grabbing his attention by burning statements in the Archives, while the real plan was elsewhere (Melanie stealing evidence to convict him). I’m not sure if, back then, Elias had felt like déjà-vu and planned accordingly, only pretending to get fooled (we now have confirmation that he could have left prison anytime anyway), or if he fell for it twice… well. He hadn’t fallen for it with Gertrude, but knew that The Dark wouldn’t be a real threat (while The Unknowing still was… presumably).
(… But it’s also what Elias had been doing all through season 4 with Martin, The Extinction and Jon: partially keeping Martin occupied with The Extinction, distracting him with the fact that Peter & Elias had something on the line… while the actual plan was most likely to get something out of Jon through Martin.)
* I’m so so so fond of the way Gertrude was putting emphasis on the name “Elias” as soon as he entered – she wasn’t hiding that she knew about him from the start:
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: [SIGH] Age catches us all. … Well. Almost all of us, Elias.
ELIAS: You were the one so… insistent on staying human.
(And it took Jonah!Elias a while to catch on to that, when she mentioned his body. Did he know that she knew, and the only reveal was that she had understood that his old body was a weak spot?)
* Goooods, sound-wise the episode was a treat, but the nonverbal “answers” through sounds (which were directly putting pictures in mind), when Gertrude flicked her lighter and we could hear Elias cocking a gun in return?
(MAG158) ELIAS: … Quite. It… was a good plan, actually. If you hadn’t been so complacent about me keeping an eye out down here, probably would have worked. [HUFF] “Gertrude’s grand retirement”…!
GERTRUDE: It still might. Just needs a little [OPENING A ZIPPO] spark, and…
[COCKED GUN]
GERTRUDE: I see. So you’re finally getting your hands dirty. I must really have caught you off-guard.
I love that no description was needed, just sounds perfectly carrying across what was happening, a gesture leading to another, each holding their own weapon through the verbal duel.
* WHY AM I GETTING FUEL (ha) TO SHIP GERTRUDE/ELIAS A BIT MORE, I mean, there is definite Aesthetic in the way… they had been around each other for a long while (almost a fourth of Jonah’s “life”/lives?):
(MAG158) ELIAS: 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. […] I suppose we both got a little complacent. Fifty years is a long time! [CHUCKLE] “End of an era”.
GERTRUDE: I’m not really in the mood for nostalgia, Elias. You might have noticed I’m rather busy, so either shoot me or–
[ONE GUNSHOT]
GERTRUDE: [GASP]
[BODY COLLAPSING]
GERTRUDE: … Well… there it is… I thought it would hurt more…
[GUN BEING PUT AWAY]
ELIAS: [SIGH] Pity.
So familiar and intimate in a way? And, uh, Elias was still regretting her death. So somehow, she would still have been a viable option for The Watcher’s Crown, or still usable as an Eye agent, if she hadn’t tried to burn the place down? Aouch. What does it take to not be a viable option…?
* The thing about Gertrude’s age echoed Eric’s comment about it:
(MAG154) GERTRUDE: Well, it’s… good to see you, I suppose.
ERIC: You too. … You got old.
GERTRUDE: Better than being dead.
ERIC: [HUFF] Fair enough. To be honest, I’m impressed, more than anything. Hard to get old in this business; you either die or you, er… “stay young”.
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: [SIGH] Age catches us all. … Well. Almost all of us, Elias.
ELIAS: You were the one so… insistent on staying human.
GERTRUDE: And no doubt that makes my death a lot less complicated.
And if Jonah had indeed been body-hopping from Head of the Institute to Head of the Institute, he was stopping at middle-age: Jon had mentioned that James Wright had been director from 1973 to 1996, so around 23 years. And we have, in parallel, Jonah’s actual body… which keeps getting older apparently:
(MAG158) MARTIN: Curren–… [QUICK FOOTSTEPS] [SHARP BREATHING] … Who is that?
PETER: Jonah Magnus! His… body, at least. Sitting here; watching; binding it all together; growing ever older.
(Also, confirmation that Jon’s comment in MAG001 about Gertrude having been Head Archivist for fifty years wasn’t an exaggeration, since Jonah!Elias said the same. … Meanwhile, Jon has been Archivist for only three years and… is already reaching that level of disaster. Either Elias was really lucky circumstances-wise or regarding Jon’s personality, either he reaaaally played his cards well, holy heck.)
* That friggin’ scene:
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: I’m not really in the mood for nostalgia, Elias. You might have noticed I’m rather busy, so either shoot me or–
[ONE GUNSHOT]
GERTRUDE: [GASP]
To quote Melanie in MAG147: “… Famous last words.”
But also: brfehdjngfd I’m so upset about TIM, because this? This???
(MAG104) TIM: Okay – well, let me tell you what. If you want me to ignore everything that’s going on, forget my brother, and everything that’s happened over the last two years… how about you kill me?
ELIAS: … I don’t want it to come to that.
TIM: Well, me either. But here we are! So my proposal for you is this: either kill me, or fuck off.
ELIAS: … I’ll come back–
TIM: [EXPLOSIVE SIGH]
ELIAS: –when you’re feeling more… reasonable.
Tim dodged a LITERAL BULLET, and what might have been Elias’s thoughts in MAG104? When the scene happened in the Archives (not sure whether it was in the same office but I’m pretty sure it was the same sound effect for the door), when Tim used the same reasoning, and when Elias just left, this time? (Did he spare Tim because Tim wasn’t an actual threat back then, more bark than bite, or because he still had use for him, or both…? I’ve always wondered if Elias hadn’t been a bit fond of Tim, in a cat-playing-with-a-mouse way, because of the way he technically gave him advice on how to handle The Eye’s binding in MAG090 and acknowledged that the Institute could be a lot for the people working there… It was definitely keeping Tim in check, sure, but Tim was just sulking in his corner and back from his fleeing attempt, it wasn’t necessary to make him feel less bad…?)
* fdsjcxnerfds I’m half mad half??? Hysterical??? That every season is still ending on a big “what truly happened to Gertrude” note because THE TAPE WE HEARD RAISED MORE QUESTIONS THAN IT ANSWERED:
-> There is the question of Gertrude’s fears. In MAG157, Adelard raised a good question about whether Gertrude was as stone-cold as we thought or was just very good at dissimulating… and she still didn’t sound that scared when Elias shot her? But Oliver had described her as looking absolutely terrorised:
(MAG011, “Antonio Blake”) “I could see none of the figure’s body beneath the flesh that enclosed them, but as I moved around I saw the face was uncovered. It was your face and the expression upon it was far more fearful than any I had seen in eight years of wandering this twilight city. That was when I awoke.”
(MAG158) [ONE GUNSHOT]
GERTRUDE: [GASP]
[BODY COLLAPSING]
GERTRUDE: … Well… there it is… I thought it would hurt more…
She could have been dissimulating how truly afraid she was, but. Mmmm. She didn’t sound like she was afraid of Elias – just a bit annoyed at having been interrupted.
-> Their dialogue set that scene in March 2015, when The Dark was carrying out its ritual attempt.
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: I’d rather hoped you’d still be hampered with all The Dark’s business. [DOOR CLOSES] It’s their… “Grand Eclipse” at the moment, isn’t it?
Elias had told Jon that blood had been found in Gertrude’s office on March 15th, 2015, and that the police had established that it was Gertrude’s blood, and that such a blood loss led them to conclude that she was dead (MAG040). But March 15th was one day after Oliver’s statement (MAG011), whose dreams put Gertrude’s Planned End around March 22nd; it doesn’t match the peak of The Dark’s ritual (with the eclipse over Ny-Ålesund having happened on March 20th) either. ………………… and it still doesn’t explain why we have a tape of Gertrude reading a statement on April 4th, 2015 (when she should be dead-dead). The other problem with MAG087 is that Jon, in his post-statement, also behaved as if Gertrude had died in March 2016; he said it was a recording from one year prior to her death, when she said the date was 2015 and was reading a statement from October 2014 (can’t read a statement from October 2014 if the actual recording date was in April 2014 and she had accidentally pronounced the recording date wrong, right?), and when Jon himself pointed out that according to the recording, Jude Perry, mentioned by Gertrude, was still living in London two years earlier (Jon was recording in March-April 2017: if Gertrude’s tape was from 2014, that would have been three years earlier). So, I would be more willing to think that Jon didn’t catch on to the fact that Gertrude was still kicking a few weeks after her official date of death rather than accept that there were three consecutive timeline mistakes in that episode. Gertrude had also mentioned in her post-statement (officially on April 4th) that:
(MAG087) GERTRUDE: […] I had assumed Orsinov and her ilk would have spent more time searching for their precious skin, maybe even acting against me directly, before they started alternate preparations. I had hoped I’d have a chance to recover. I can still barely stand.
… she had recently been injured. Could be about the taxidermy shop, when she took the gorilla skin, but we still don’t know for sure. Even if she had been protected from a fatal injury (plain old bulletproof vest covered with blood sacks? Supernatural protection?), that would still have been enough to be severely injured, especially at her age.
-> Elias and Gertrude didn’t say it outright but implied it clearly enough:
(MAG158) ELIAS: 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.
ELIAS: And how exactly were you planning on achieving that while you’re still bound to the… ha. Oh, I see. Very clever. [CHUCKLE] I thought Eric was the only one to figure that little morsel out.
The plan for Gertrude was to reach the Panopticon, gouge her eyes out, kill Jonah’s body for real to neutralise him, and escape the fallout. Which would have meant becoming blind and cutting her connection to The Eye before moving on to neutralising The Unknowing. In October 2014, so shortly before Gerry’s death, she was still speculating that she would need someone tied to The Eye to stop The Stranger (and she had told Gerry that she had a secret storage unit; so she already had the explosives in mind, it was requiring both):
(MAG137) GERTRUDE: Doesn’t help with The Unknowing, though. [HEAVY SIGH] We still have Dekker’s back-up plan, of course, but… it’s very risky. To be sure, I–I think the detonation would need to happen from within The Unknowing, while it was going on. Gerard may have a connection to The Eye, but I’m not convinced it will be enough.
… if she had cut her own connection to The Eye, she wouldn’t have been a viable sacrifice either. So why try to neutralise Elias before The Unknowing, while sacrificing her chances at stopping the latter?
-> Biggest problem:
(MAG040) ARCHIVIST: Martin… How did Gertrude Robinson die?
MARTIN: … I don’t know. Not for sure; it was so dark, and I only saw the body for a few seconds. The police were quite clear that the cause of death could be absolutely any–
ARCHIVIST: Martin, how did she die?
MARTIN: She was shot! Three times, that I could see. … Three shots to the chest.
(MAG158) [ONE GUNSHOT]
GERTRUDE: [GASP]
[BODY COLLAPSING]
Three holes vs. one gunshot. I mean, sure, I can picture Elias placing her down in the tunnels and putting two more bullets in her body “just in case” (or noticing she wasn’t dead already and correcting that. Or a few spiders making a nest in her body. Or Michael stabbing her a few times). But as long as Elias doesn’t confirm, I…………. think it might be very likely that she didn’t die in the tape we heard, but that she bluffed and went off the grid at this point, and that something else caught her later?
It’s absolutely possible that no, actually, she did die there, and some things will click in place (and/or that I’m reading things wrong) but. What would have been enough to make her so afraid, as Oliver had described…? (………… something related to The Extinction, that she had downplayed so much? Something related to Adelard, who had officially died some time before?) (And there are still some dates problems aaaaarg.)
(- We heard Gertrude’s (as of now) official demise from the past, with a tape recorder apparently clicking on on its own… So I wonder: would it be possible to hear even more sneaky tapes from the past? Jon’s hiring around 2012, or his appointment as Head Archivist? Martin’s hiring (in 2009 or earlier), or how he came to work for The Archives (we still don’t know whether Elias put him there, whether Martin volunteered, or if somehow, Martin had asked to come down with Jon)? Gertrude has also mentioned the chat she had with Elias right after he body-hopped into this body (so 1996 or before)…)
- There is still a Story behind The Dark’s ritual attempt, too!
(MAG143) MANUELA: 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… I heard Maxwell cry out, scrambling desperately into the Dark Sun, stopping just short of touching it. But it was too late. Whatever it was that you and your Archivist did, it clearly worked.
(MAG158) GERTRUDE: I’d rather hoped you’d still be hampered with all The Dark’s business. [DOOR CLOSES] It’s their… “Grand Eclipse” at the moment, isn’t it?
ELIAS: [SIGH] But I think we’ve both come to the same conclusion about that. That’s why you’re here.
GERTRUDE: Yes.
Elias and Gertrude had understood why it wouldn’t work, and I wonder if it has to do with Manuela’s statement from July 2014 (MAG135), since it was a direct challenge to the both of them? I still don’t have a clue about why it failed, but I’m assuming that it’s been right under our nose all along…
(The only thing I’ve managed to notice is that it was right around the time that Evan Lukas died; could be absolutely unrelated, but… but. It doesn’t feel like we know the full story about Evan either?)
(Also, confirmation that Elias was UTTERLY FULL OF SHIT ABOUT IT!! BASTARD KNEW!!!
(MAG135) ELIAS: I have been observing a recent increase in people and supplies being moved to the small town of Ny-Ålesund, in Svalbard. An increase which I believe may be linked to a rather desperate attempt, by the People’s Church of the Divine Host, to perform a crude ritual of their own. To bring their… “Mr. Pitch”… into the world. […] If Gertrude had a plan for this one, I haven’t found it, which is why Jon needs to be closer to The Eye. If anyone can stop what’s happening, he can. See through the darkness, etcetera.
To his credit: it doesn’t seem like Gertrude actively stopped that one, but rather that it failed on his own… so he indeed didn’t know about her potential plans (since they weren’t necessary in the end). And he did point out to Basira that the Aurora Borealis were ~lovely~ in the current season, so. The increase of people/supplies. Might. Have. Just Been. Because of the touristic season. Fucker.)
- It Is Always A Good Time to remember that Elias had once called Jon “dramatic”:
(MAG067) ELIAS: Oh, good lord, don’t be so dramatic, Jon! You know how hard it would be to replace you!
ARCHIVIST: I–I don’t, actually. But… thank you. I suppose.
Mister “Making Sure My Entrance Is The Most Dramatic Entrance That Ever Entrance’d” and “Planning My Lines Ahead So I GO BACK TO TRYING TO SAY THEM, DON’T INTERRUPT ME, JON”…
(MAG158) MARTIN: [SHAKY INHALE] … Where are his eyes?
ELIAS: Exactly–
MARTIN: [GASP]
ELIAS: –where they’ve always been, Martin. Watching over my Institute.
[…] ARCHIVIST: What is this place?
ELIAS: Hm! A complicated question, and time is–
ARCHIVIST: [STATIC] That’s the Panopticon… […] “But”?
ELIAS: “But” for Martin? Time is very much of the essence.
… had called Jon dramatic.
Asshole had the line “time is (very much) of the essence” and desperately wanted to place it, uh.
- I’m a bit sad over the Jonah Reveal, because the idea that our “Elias” was actually truly an old lazy student and pothead turned absolute fanatical zealot (and/or the idea that other avatars kept assuming he was actually Jonah Magnus when he wasn’t) cracked me up so much! Would sure have been a different story than Your Antagonist Is Actually An Old Victorian Asshole Who Didn’t Want To Die, but it makes a lot of sense and we’ve had so, so many little things pointing out in that direction:
(MAG049) ARCHIVIST: Supplemental. Elias Bouchard is a difficult man to pin down, certainly since he became head of the Institute in 1996, taking over from James Wright, who ran the place from ‘73 until he passed away. It was a remarkably fast climb to the top, as from what I can find, it looks like he only joined the Institute five years before, in 1991, working in the Artefact Storage. Perhaps he was simply that impressive. Certainly, the Elias I know now is almost unmatched in terms of paranormal knowledge. Well. Theoretical knowledge, at least. And yet, everything I found out about his life before the Institute seems… an ill fit with the austere man I know. He apparently graduated with a Third from Christ Church’s College in PPE, and I found an old gossip column in the student newspaper that – sure well – that mentioned him. If I’m not reading too much into it, the implication seems to be that he was… something of a… pothead [CHUCKLES]. Was he… like that when he first came to work here…?
(MAG092) ELIAS: Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, Jon. He got the letter, oh yes, and was on good terms with Mordechai Lukas. He could have interceded, perhaps even saved him, but he did not. 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. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look. No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, Jon, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are, is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard. This, at least, Gertrude understood.
(MAG096) DAISY: El–Elias didn’t say.
ARCHIVIST: No, he doesn’t, uh… He’s not big on micromanagement.
SARAH: It’s Elias now, then?
ARCHIVIST: [WHISPERING] What?
DAISY: Get on with it.
(MAG101) NIKOLA: Is it… your Elias who listens? Helloooooo! […] So, Elias, can I call you Elias?, let me set the scene, as I know you can’t actually see this. […] You know Elias, can I call you Elias?, you have not raised this one very well! […] Oh, no, I’m afraid he can’t See, can you Elias?, can I call you Elias? – what’s the point of having a secret place of power if you can’t hide it from a big stupid eye?
(MAG135, Manuela Dominguez) “When you read this, I would consider it a great favour if you could share my words with the Head of your Institute. Tell him that Maxwell Rayner sends his regards and offers… sanctuary. A time of holy Darkness is at hand, when The Eye will close forever, and in the spirit of the friendship they once shared, he offers an opportunity – to surrender.”
(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “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.”
(MAG148) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Did he mention it at all? My, uh…
BASIRA: Oh, your new diet? Nothing useful. Didn’t seem too fazed by it.
ARCHIVIST: [LONG SIGH] Right.
BASIRA: What?
ARCHIVIST: … I–I don’t know, I mean… We still don’t really know… what Elias actually is…? I thought… Maybe if he was more like me than we realised…
So at this point: it was a popular suspicion/theory amongst viewers, but amongst characters, too – at least, Basira wasn’t fazed and seemed to take it as confirmation of a suspicion more than anything:
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: Uh– yes. And I’d wager that Elias’s body, uh…
BASIRA: Gotta be Jonah Magnus, right?
ARCHIVIST: I’d say so.
BASIRA: [SIGH] And he’s been body-hopping like whatever was in Rayner.
And Martin was surprised by Elias suddenly being there (who wouldn’t be?) but didn’t seem too surprised about the reveal in itself either. Same with Jon, who quickly accepted it – not as casually as Basira, and he seemed to have been shaken/startled by something, but still very smoothly.
I’m satisfied by the way it was done in this episode – Jonah’s body being discovered as Elias revealed himself and as the (last?) conversation between him and Gertrude played. And YES, his entrance and reveal was EXTREMELY DRAMATIC, but it was also so damn good and chilling. Plus, there was the surprise factor of the fact that he’s apparently body-hopping by plugging his ~eyes~ into his hosts? Which fits and is a very neat contrast to the way to escape the Institute’s binding, as Eric and Melanie demonstrated (making sure to destroy their own eyes).
- Still gonna call him “Elias” as long as we don’t know much about who Real OG Pothead Elias was, I’m not in denial over the fact it’s Jonah Magnus, right? But he was called Elias for so long that it stuck.
And I’m laughing a bit that in-series, it seems to be the same thing for Jon? He still called him “Elias”, and Gertrude and Peter did the same; only Martin corrected himself and went with “Jonah” like a good boy:
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: But Elias put him in charge, that doesn’t make any–!
[…] ELIAS: Peter.
PETER: Elias.
[…] MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.
But nop, for Jon, still “Elias”. (Is it because part of him is in denial, or out of habit, or an attempt to still cling to some stability, or because calling him “Jonah” sounds too close to his own name?)
- I’m delighted because there are soooo many implications now:
* So, how much of a blast did Jonah have letting the letters addressed to him stay around in the Archives and be read by Jon (MAG023, MAG050, MAG127) and Martin (MAG098, MAG138)?
* When Elias finally entered the room in MAG118…
(MAG118) MARTIN: Oh sorry! Sorry, I’m not keeping you from the show, am I? Well, well you head back, I’ll keep myself busy here. Albrecht von Closen is next, I think. It’s quite an old one! Should go up very quickly.
ELIAS: [EXASPERATED BREATHING] … Did Jon put you up to this?
Martin was on the verge of burning Albrecht’s letter!! Given that Jonah wasn’t unrelated to what happened to Albrecht in the end, according to MAG127…
* It was before the Institute, but the Archives contained John Flamsteed’s letter (1715), revealing that Rayner was a body-hopper; and the Archives also contained Doctor Algernon Moss’s letter from 1864 about Rayner’s powers. That was three years before Smirke’s letter to Jonah, accusing and warning him about the danger of serving The Eye. Manuela had also pointed out that ~the Head of the Institute~ and Maxwell Rayner used to be friends (unless it was taunting from the start: “the friendship they once shared”) so… Jonah probably took a page from Rayner’s personal book, though giving it an Eye touch.
(… He also borrowed from Rayner’s book re: using someone’s love and desire to save someone they care for in order to make them do atrocious thing, as what happened with Robert Montauk and his wife, but more on that later.)
* It’s extra-funny that Nikola was all “Can I call you Elias?” since Grimaldi, who was proto-Nikola… was alive during Jonah’s actual lifetime. Jonah probably saw him onstage.
* Jonah was also alive when Ruskin’s book came out – the Fear version might have popped up before or after but still, it was from Jonah’s era, and worked in the tunnels, and was even used in this episode during Peter&Martin’s progression:
(MAG080) LEITNER: An unexpurgated copy of Ruskin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture, published in 1845. Of course, Ruskin didn’t even begin writing the book until 1846, and the text of this one varies markedly from the version that was distributed. It gives an acute sense of the walls pressing in around you, and if consumed recklessly will physically entomb the reader. Over the years I have found that it interacts with Smirke’s architecture, and those tunnels specifically, in a more predictable way. By carefully reading specific passages in certain locations I am able to exercise… a degree of control over the substance of the tunnels.
* Avatars/monsters were all so cool and fair-play about it?? Manuela didn’t call him “Jonah” (she didn’t name him), Peter always called him “Elias”, Simon didn’t mention Elias or the Head of the Institute at all… How many of them knew, and were probably thinking it was the worst secret ever kept, but still had their fun using his new host’s name? They’ve been so sportsmanlike and nice to him.
* That line in the season 3 Q&A about how ~Elias was older than he sounded~ =D
* … MAG138, Robert Smirke’s letter, was probably a hint to Martin not only about the tunnels (as he was thinking) but about Jonah still being There. Smirke had specifically mentioned Jonah’s fear of dying as he was giving himself to The Eye. Peter was actually preparing Martin to the concept that Jonah hadn’t really died (and that Martin was supposed to kill him)…………………
(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “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.”
* The fact that Elias hadn’t been preoccupied by The Extinction’s emergence, while acknowledging that it might be happening… might be because he was around when The Flesh emerged? Gerry had pointed out that its “ascendance” happened during the Smirke era (MAG111: “I think it’s quite new. Only just beginning its, uh, ascendance when Smirke labelled it.”), and it indeed didn’t change the game much. Might be why Elias wasn’t that preoccupied by it, outside of the fact that he was aiming for his own ritual anyway?
* Now, think back to a lot of things that happened in the course of the series.
When Mary Keay roasted Elias by describing him as “not big on action” (MAG062)? It was actually about Jonah Magnus.
This excellent dialogue?
(MAG079) TIM: […] There is something in this place, and it’s messing up our heads. It watches us all the time, it stops me quitting, I’m pretty sure it would stop Elias firing Jon even if he decided to actually try running this place for once. […] Er… Elias is probably still in his office.
MARTIN: I thought you said he was a waste of a suit.
TIM: Yeah, well he’s better than nothing!
… was actually about Jonah Magnus (mARTIN caLlED hIM A “wAStE oF A sUIt”…)
Jon (Master Of Redundancy) said that Jonah Magnus was a “cocky prick” in MAG096, and of “zero practical use” in MAG102.
Tim told Jonah Magnus to “fuck off” in MAG104.
Xiaoling implied that Jonah Magnus was too lazy to handle an Archivist whose mother-tongue wouldn’t be English, back in MAG105.
Peter said this
(MAG108) PETER: Oh. That doesn’t sound like the Elias I know. He killed people himself? […] Elias Bouchard, getting his hands dirty. Well-well. Must be the End Times.
about Jonah frigging Magnus.
A police officer punched Jonah Magnus in MAG120, and Basira beat him up during an extended sequence in MAG148.
I mean. It was already hilarious when about “Elias”, but replace everything with “Jonah Magnus” and or “an old Victorian body-hopper”, and suddenly, all of this becomes even more satisfying. (Especially Basira’s episode.)
- There are also a few more recent power-related things which also take on a new dimension with the Reveal:
* Martin had picked up on the fact that Elias had known about Prentiss in the tunnels for a while, which Elias didn’t deny… so it didn’t seem like the tunnels were an Absolute Blind Spot for him.
(MAG118) MARTIN: Not even close. Because… [HEAVY BREATHING] I… I’ve been thinking. It’s not like you’ve got this all-seeing thing recently. You’ve had it the whole time. I remember the way you looked at Sasha after the attack. You knew it wasn’t her. And I reckon you knew Prentiss was lurking under the Institute, too, and you did nothing. Why? [SILENCE] WHY?! [SLAMS TABLE]
ELIAS: … Let’s just get this over with, shall we?
Or at least, he knew them well enough to be able to tell that Prentiss was there.
(Not sure who drew Peter’s map for him: could be Helen, since he was mentioning her to Martin right before and Helen Richardson used to be good with maps; could have been Elias, since he was waiting in the Panopticon, so the tunnels weren’t as off-limit had Jon had previously assumed, and he perfectly knew the way – well, he had been alive when everything had been designed and built, so Makes sense.
What is still odd is: how come Martin was able to find Gertrude’s body down there, back in season 1…?)
* I hate him:
(MAG120) MARTIN: You didn’t just see it in me?
ELIAS: Honestly, I didn’t look. For all my power, I will admit I am not immune to making the occasional lazy assumption. I presumed that I knew you thoroughly, but by the time you demonstrated otherwise… well. There was simply too much to keep watching over. I only have two eyes, after all.
“I only have two eyes after all” fuuuuuckkkkk oooooooooooooffff, oh my goooooods!!!
* erfysudhbjzreds THAT BIT!!! THAT BIT!!!
(MAG134) PETER: What does puzzle me, though, and I mean that genuinely, is… why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin, while Jon was in there. [PAUSE] It’s a question, Martin, it’s– it’s not an accusation.
MARTIN: I don’t know. And I just… felt like it might help. He’s always recording, I thought… it–it might help him… find his way out.
PETER: Interesting. Were you compelled?
MARTIN: [SULLEN] … I don’t know. … M–maybe? I–I, I definitely wanted to do it…
PETER: But?
MARTIN: I’m… I’m not sure where the idea came from.
PETER: You should watch out for that. Could be something dangerous.
Peter was actually suspecting that Elias was trying to interfere, back then?! Since he was suspecting Elias of trying to do just that in MAG158:
(MAG158) MARTIN: … If I… if I do kill you… will the others survive?
PETER: Elias?
[FOOTSTEPS]
ELIAS: Come now, Peter. It’s a valid question.
[…] PETER: I see. … This is your doing, is it?
ELIAS: [AUDIBLE GRIN] Hardly…!
[…] PETER: … No. No! This isn’t fair, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You knew, he must have–
MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.
* ……………… Okay, so:
(MAG158) ELIAS: Ah, Jon. I was almost worried…! You found your way all right.
ARCHIVIST: [PANTING] Yes. … Ye–yes, I did… How?
ELIAS: Suffice it to say I called you.
Is something that Elias can apparently do. And there is one particular time that Jon had mentioned feeling “called” towards something.
(MAG127) BASIRA: And what was that you were doing yesterday?
ARCHIVIST: … When…?
BASIRA: You were sat on the floor for like four hours.
ARCHIVIST: … Oh! Er, n–n–no, I was, er, I was… listening. Y’know, it’s, trying to see if any of the statements… called to me.
BASIRA: And?
ARCHIVIST: [FLAPPING PAPER]
BASIRA: Brilliant.
… Was it actually Elias drawing him towards Jonathan Fanshawe’s statement? Towards the letter of someone who had decided to cut ties with Jonah after what he had done to Albrecht, about what The Eye could do to someone, about something that contributed to the Institute’s early days (the books stolen from the crypt)?
* Jon had wondered why he had been “chosen” back in MAG138… and if it’s really because Jonah fucking Magnus went “oh, he’s called Jonathan and he sounds a bit like Jonathan Fanshawe? Hahaha, wouldn’t it be fun”, I’m going to scream.
* ………… I have been wondering this entire season what was the thing pulling Jon towards this and that statement, and it’s something that Annabelle pointed out in MAG147, when she mentioned that there were various influences… but now, I’m getting even more worried over MAG150, a statement in which someone manages to get out from The Lonely because he was reached by someone he still loved. It sounded like such a weirdly optimistic story, compared to our usual statement? The statement-giver learned and managed to get his life more or less back together, and is working, and things are hard but he’s alright?
… What if it really was a red herring, to give Jon the impression that it’s possible to pull the same trick and get out with Martin, when the circumstances are different…?
- What are the things making Elias so frighteningly efficient as an antagonist? I think we got an absolute demonstration in this episode, and it’s quite significant that this is the episode where he revealed himself as Jonah Magnus. Because, what did we know about Jonah? In respectively 1816, 1841 and 1864:
(MAG023, Albrecht von Closen) […] “I recall that during your visit last spring you mentioned your… fascination with the macabre and strange, and pressed upon me as to whether there were any such lore or legends that I myself were familiar with. Wolfgang writes me that you are acquiring quite the collection, and I feel that I now have something that belongs with it, far more than any of the fairy stories or old maids’ tales that I told you before. […] Still, I look forward to showing you the book I have acquired, and the revelations you will no doubt glean from it.”
(MAG050, Sampson Kempthorne) “Dear Jonah; it is my fondest wish that this message should find you in good health, as I have heard more than one mutual acquaintance remark on your current state of overwork. While I earnestly hope it is merely idle gossip, my knowledge of your character leads me to entreat that you allow yourself some respite, or at the very least take some further secretarial staff into your employ. Certain uncharitable quarters would have it that your life consists of little but rattling around in Edinburgh Townhouse, surrounded by piles of ghostly accounts and lunatic documentation. Piles, I am afraid to say, to which I am about to make an addition.”
(MAG098, Doctor Algernon Moss) “I come to you not to wallow in my condition, or pour out my soul like a papist in the confessional, but to request your assistance. I believe that Maxwell Rayner has at his disposal some unholy power that he has used to curse me and cause my blindness. Or, more precisely, to cause me to blind myself, for I shall not deny I did so willingly. For obvious reasons my accusations have had me laughed out of most polite society. Not quite so polite when you’re accusing someone of witchcraft, it would seem. I now ask the assistance of your Institute in the hopes that you may be able to furnish some evidence or legal precedent that may assist me in taking action against my assailant, though I will admit my expectations for the latter are limited. Maxwell Rayner is an oddity. […] So, there is my story. I’m sure you’ll agree that Maxwell Rayner is the clear architect of my misfortune. Now, how do you suppose I revenge myself upon him?”
We got glimpses of his life through Jon and Martin reading the letters addressed to him, sent by friends and intimates who indulged his passion for tales of supernatural stories. Dr. Algernon Moss was requiring his “assistance”, and at that point, by the 1860s, the Institute seemed to already be operating as in the present day (it has a reputation, people come to share their stories, they sometimes require help, and will never get it), but there was fondness in Albrecht von Closen and Sampson Kempthorne’s letters – Adelard Dekkard pointed out that The Eye’s influence was present in his last message to Gertrude (MAG156), but it didn’t sound odd to Albrecht or Sampson to write their stories (statements) willingly, as gifts to a friend.
But we also know that Jonah Magnus actively or passively caused suffering to his own friends and acquaintances, and, in the case of Barnabas, Elias himself acknowledged that it wasn’t even due to a lack of sympathy (1824, 1831, 1867):
(MAG092, Barnabas Bennett) “You must help me. If anyone is still here, it is you. I know your work brings you into contact with all sorts of fantastical terrors, so perhaps you might have it within your power to save me from this place. […] And you must help me, Jonah. If anyone knows of what might break me from this dreadful place, it is you. I know that what is done by those I cannot see might be felt here – I have found glasses broken and pages torn that were not so the night before. It is my hope that if I leave a letter here, in your institute, you might find it, you might be able to save me. I have no other hope. Please, Jonah, if you have any compassion within your heart, you will not leave me in this place. Your loyal servant; Barnabas.”
ELIAS: Jonah Magnus did leave him in that place, Jon. He got the letter, oh yes, and was on good terms with Mordechai Lukas. He could have interceded, perhaps even saved him, but he did not. 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.
(MAG127, Doctor Jonathan Fanshawe) “Jonah; I must first and foremost decline your generous offer of a medical position servicing Millbank Penitentiary. While the terms you’ve laid out are no doubt more than adequate, I have, over these last months, come to the unfortunate conclusion that our intimacy and friendship must cease immediately. I do not know what interest you have in the poor condemned souls within those walls, nor do I care to guess. In the light of what I have so recently witnessed, I can no longer in good conscience associate with any of your endeavours. Nor will I continue to collect or provide all those accounts of the esoteric and otherworldly, that you and your… Institute so eagerly require. Consider this the severing of our acquaintance. This cannot come as a shock to you. Surely, you must have understood what you were asking when you employed me to visit with Albrecht, and apply my… meagre skills to the illness that beset him. You must have known the nature of that illness, even if only in the most general terms. And no doubt you had some intuition as to its cause. […] Because whatever it was that did this to him, I know in my heart that it is your fault. I’ve had the body burned. Please, do not write to me again.”
(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “My dear Jonah; You will forgive me, I hope, for being so forward, but I feel I must break the silence that has characterised our acquaintance for these past decades. […] 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…”
I’m still not sure that Jon got the right handle of it when he took Jonathan Fanshawe’s statement as an indicator that Jonah Magnus had been evil-from-the-start, because it could also be mirroring his own downfall: falling unknowingly into The Eye’s embrace, then trying to shake out of it or to resist it, only to fall entirely later – wasn’t it what happened with Daisy and The Hunt? With Jon himself, though he’s not at the last point (yet…?), when he fed from the suffering of innocents before refraining himself, first because he was forced to (starting MAG148) and then because he was actively trying to not do what The Eye wanted him to (MAG154)? Robert Smirke mentioned that he and Jonah used to share plans before agreeing to abandon them, and that they weren’t answering to the calls of Beholding; either Jonah fooled him, either Jonah indeed fought off The Eye’s influence (after Albrecht’s death?) up until Robert Smirke’s last letter.
But, mostly, these letters told us that Jonah Magnus was far from being unappreciated. People valued him, cared for him, trusted him. And, given how Jonah made them suffer, we would want for that kind of feelings to be Jonah’s weak spot, something he wasn’t able to understand… but Elias knows about them, takes them into account as a potential motivator. At least with the current Archives team, he has constantly weaponised affection as a means of control – ensnaring both Daisy and Basira because of their feelings for each other, getting Jon to join in The Unknowing expedition because of his worry for Tim, partially banking on Martin’s feelings for Jon as a safeguard that Martin wouldn’t entirely fall into Peter’s grasp, luring Jon into the coffin (to experience The Buried and push his powers further) because Jon wanted to rescue Daisy, getting Martin cast into The Lonely because he knew that Jon would do everything to save Martin, even at the cost of himself:
(MAG092) ELIAS: Ah, of course. Er, sometimes I forget how new you all are to this. Basira is now tied to the Institute. All of you are. Like fingers on a hand. And I am the beating heart of it. Should I, or the Institute, be destroyed, you will all, unfortunately, follow suit.
MELANIE: Wait, what?
TIM: Yup, that sounds about right.
ELIAS: And it would not be a pleasant death.
DAISY: Bullshit!
ELIAS: Then shoot me. Just squeeze the trigger, and watch the only person you care about die screaming. Your last connection to humanity. Do it.
BASIRA: Daisy…
(MAG117) ARCHIVIST: Tim isn’t going to sit home and wait, and Elias seems pretty insistent I go along.
(MAG135) ELIAS: 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.
(MAG138) MARTIN: Yeah. Well. I’m still not sure I really believe it. [EXHALE] A–and, I don’t… I–… I’m, h…
ELIAS: Worried he might charge off into another coffin. [SILENCE] … Quite.
(MAG158) MARTIN: Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed. And then… [SHAKILY] Jon came back, and… and suddenly, I had a reason: I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control, so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away… so what? I’d already grieved for him, and if it meant now saving him, it was worth it!
[…] ELIAS: Peter Lukas has him. Cast him into The Lonely, and with every passing moment, he gets further away from you.
ARCHIVIST: How do I bring him back?
ELIAS: From out here? … Impossible.
ARCHIVIST: … You want me to follow him.
ELIAS: No, Jon. You want you to follow him. I simply want you to know that if you do so, you are almost certainly not coming back. To go into The Lonely willingly is as good as death.
ARCHIVIST: … How do I do it?
* So, Elias finally revealed that he wasn’t as trapped in prison as he had been pretending to be up until now:
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: Gone how?
DAISY: Just walked out, as far as we can tell.
BASIRA: Couple of guards on duty vanished too.
ARCHIVIST: “Vanished”? How?
BASIRA: Just left.
ARCHIVIST: [EXASPERATED SIGH]
BASIRA: Best we can tell, he had some dirt on them.
DAISY: Old friend at the prison let us know.
ARCHIVIST: What, and no one thought of that?
BASIRA: Asshole could have left at any time, but he just sat there laughing at us.
ARCHIVIST: No, no, this, this can’t be a coincidence…
And indeed, why did he choose to leave now? Was it only because Peter himself had decided that Martin was ready? Is it because another threat is coming? Or had Peter and Elias agreed on a deadline from the start? Jon, back in MAG127, was suspecting that something could be coming with the Institute’s 200th anniversary, though he didn’t know the day the Institute had been founded. Was it actually September 25th or 26th…?
- Soooo, about the Panopticon’s purpose / what it might be capable of doing…
(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I could not go easy to my grave without offering you one last plea for your restraint. What we built at Millbank should be left well enough alone, resigned to the nightmares of the reprobates and brigands contained within its walls. […] And if, as I came to believe, the Dread Powers were themselves places of a sort, then surely with the right space, the right architecture, they could be contained. Channelled. Harnessed. […] 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.”
(MAG158) MARTIN: What is this place?
PETER: The Panopticon of Millbank prison. Not quite as Smirke originally conceived it, of course. Jonah Magnus made certain… adjustments.
MARTIN: And it’s been down here the whole time?
PETER: Why do you think this was chosen as the Institute’s location, when the prison closed? It’s a significant site of power for The Beholding. From the tower in the centre of this room, you can see everything.
MARTIN: But there’s nothing in the cells…!
PETER: [CHUCKLING] I don’t mean the cells, Martin – I mean everything.
* Smirke gave up, Jonah didn’t and/or went back on it. So. Oops. Given how The Eye has indeed been able to feed through the other Fears’ actions (through statements or an Archivist), bad. Badbadbad.
* Did it get fuelled by prisoners’ fears…? From something concrete and tangible, to something immaterial because their feelings powered/scarred the place so much?
* It was very faint, and I LOVED the sound effect present in the tower: something between the wind whistling and very low whispers? It made the place immediately threatening and gave the impression that yeah, there were many ghosts/dead bodies/sufferings caused around it…?
- I’m still rfedubrehjd over the fact that Peter and Elias’s first live interaction was firmly anticipated (Peter had mentioned he was there to see Elias in MAG100! It was the case again in MAG108! We knew, at least from Peter, that they weren’t strangers, although Elias didn’t acknowledge Peter’s existence in return until MAG138; but it has been so long between the moment we learned that they knew each other and their first ‘onscreen’ interaction!) AND YET… managed to be Even Better than I could have dreamed of. Elias was SUCH A SHIT:
(MAG158) ELIAS: I warned you, Peter~
[…] PETER: … No. No! This isn’t fair, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You knew, he must have–
MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.
PETER: No! That’s not– You can’t–
ELIAS: You’ve lost, Peter. Admit it. [CHUCKLE] He played you like a… like a cheap whistle.
PETER: No! Shut up!
ELIAS: Peter. [PAUSE] It’s time.
[SILENCE]
PETER: … Fine.
MARTIN: Great. [VERY SHARP SQUEALS OF DISTORTION INCREASING] Now, perhaps if one of you, then, can tell me what–
[SHARP SQUEALS OF DISTORTION REACHING A PEAK, BEFORE DECREASING]
ELIAS: It won’t be that bad, Peter~ [CHUCKLE] You’ll see. Now: he’ll be here soon, so you can leave, or…
PETER: Oh no. No. I’m not gonna make it easy on him. You haven’t won yet.
ELIAS: Your choice. Just make sure to leave the door open.
Compensating much for all of Peter’s little digs, uh. They’re so… divorced…………….
Peter had told Martin right away that Elias had chosen him as interim Director, Jon had been suspecting very early that Peter&Elias were scheming together, Basira’s plural in MAG151 was implying that she was thinking the same…
(MAG120) PETER: Oh! Right, of course! Well, you’ve successfully managed to remove Elias as the Head of the Magnus Institute. So…
MARTIN: Oh. Oh, god, what does that do?
PETER: Oh! No, no no no! No. Not in any, hum, metaphysical sense, no, he’s still very much the… how did he insist on phrasing it… Ah yes, the “beating heart of the Institute”. But, practically speaking, he can hardly fulfil his more mundane managerial duties from a jail cell.
MARTIN: … so he knew this was going to happen?
PETER: Not exactly. He… anticipated that you would likely find some way to remove him. So he made alternative arrangements.
MARTIN: Which would be you.
PETER: Exactly! To be honest with you, Martin, I didn’t expect to be taking over the place so soon, or in such a state of disarray. But, I’ll do my best to keep the place afloat.
(MAG122) BASIRA: No, nothing. Elias isn’t the problem.
ARCHIVIST: Sor– what?
BASIRA: Elias is locked up.
ARCHIVIST: … Wait, Martin’s plan worked?
BASIRA: Yeah. A bunch of Section’d officers took him in. He made some sort of deal, I think. But… he’s not getting out anytime soon.
ARCHIVIST: … Oh. Wow. O… kay, er… Great, s–so… what’s the problem?
BASIRA: He appointed an “interim” director. Guy named Peter Lukas.
ARCHIVIST: … Oh.
(MAG125) ARCHIVIST: But honestly, it’s the internal threats I’m worried about. Peter Lukas is just… sitting up there, doing whatever the hell it is he [STATIC] and Elias have planned, and Melanie still has that bullet pumping violence into her, waiting to turn this place into another Lanncraig.
(MAG151) BASIRA: [SIGH] … Okay. You want to do whatever “grand sacrifice” you think is going to save everyone, go ahead. But you’d best be sure you’re not just playing their game.
MARTIN: I know what I’m doing.
BASIRA: We’ll see. [PAUSE] Don’t make me regret this.
(MAG154) MARTIN: I just… Look, I need to see this thing through with Peter to the end. If–if what he’s saying is even half true, I need to be there.
ARCHIVIST: But what if you don’t? I mean…! We could just leave. I mean, whatever… their plan is for me, I am damn sure that doing that isn’t it. I could derail everything–
MARTIN: [NERVOUS CHUCKLING]
ARCHIVIST: –We could derail everything, and then just… leave…!
MARTIN: [DRY AND HOLLOW LAUGHTER]
ARCHIVIST: [BREATHY] … What…?
… and turned out that it was a bet. Well. A gamble, for both? We had learned about that aspect of Peter in MAG066 (well, in an explicit form; what happened on the Tundra in MAG033 might have been of that nature too, without the statement-giver being aware of it because… she had won), and it had been mentioned as one of Peter’s ways to navigate (ha) social interactions:
(MAG134) MARTIN: So… so what, you’re afraid of the competition?
PETER: Not at all. Honestly, that’s the sort of thing I normally relish; I’ve always been a little bit of a gambler, and the higher the stakes, the better.
MARTIN: So… so this is, wh–what?
(MAG151) SIMON: He is what he is, Martin. For a creature of The Lonely, the urge is always to isolate; never to communicate or connect. I suspect that’s why he’s so keen on wagers: it allows him a framework for cooperation that doesn’t risk any sort of intimacy. […] I think… [INHALE] I think Peter is taking a rather large, but calculated gamble. Not just on you, but on a lot of things. If it works, he’ll be in a very strong position. And if he fails… it won’t be all that bad.
MARTIN: You don’t think it will be the end of the world?
SIMON: Oh! It very well might be, but…
MARTIN: [EXPLOSIVE EXHALE]
SIMON: Life has continued through dozens of apocalypses already. Ice ages; pandemics; calamities; extinctions… The only reason this one feels special is because, well… it’s happening to you. And that’s the sort of solipsism that tends to come with loneliness – in my experience.
BUT I’M STILL SO MAD THAT
(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people!
ELIAS: That makes two of us.
MARTIN: [HUFF]
ELIAS: But no. This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap “mindgames”. I simply have to trust that when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice.
(MAG158) MARTIN: Oh, I’m getting there, but if this is the final test or something? Then bad luck. The answer’s still “no”.
[FOOTSTEPS]
PETER: … No. No! This isn’t fair, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You knew, he must have–
MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.
PETER: No! That’s not– You can’t–
ELIAS: You’ve lost, Peter. Admit it.
FUCK OOOOOFF ELIAS OH MY GODS the thing about the “right choice” was really just about whether Martin would refuse to kill Jonah Magnus’s body, thus ensuring Elias’s winning the bet… and THAT was the thing “too important for me to jeopardise”, it had never been about The Extinction for Elias uh……………………
- I’m so proud of Martin for understanding that it was all mostly a “power play” between Elias and Peter, and TECHNICALLY? TECHNICALLY PETER HAD BEEN AN ABSOLUTE DUMBASS WHO HAD HIGHLIGHTED THAT THEY TENDED TO BE ~LIKE THAT~:
(MAG108) PETER: Ah, I see. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. It’s one of Elias’s little jokes.
MARTIN: I don– What?
PETER: Did he suggest you record a statement today? One that mentioned me?
MARTIN: … yeah? Sssort of? I mean… not you specifically, but…
PETER: I have a meeting with him today. He suggested… I’m sure he’s watching from his office, grinning from ear to ear.
MARTIN: I… don’t…
PETER: I almost thought he genuinely wanted me to meet the team! Oh well.
Peter And Elias Had Their Little Games, and Martin knew that from experience from the very first time he had met Peter.
… at the same time, Martin being “Martin out” might have been a genuine missed opportunity since… I’m glad that he didn’t go for murder even if he wanted to? And the fact that Elias was ready to risk Jonah’s original body probably meant that there was a huuuuge trick/something that could have backfired if Martin had knifed him? But Daisy had also pointed out that maybe they should have accepted to kill him at the risk of dying when they have had a chance:
(MAG142) MARTIN: I thought you believed him…! You were doing all of his dirty work.
DAISY: Well, wasn’t willing to call his bluff. Not the same thing as “believing”. Just too big a risk.
MARTIN: … Not for Melanie.
DAISY: Well, maybe she was the only one with any sense. Even if he was telling the truth [EXHALE], if we all… died… There are worse things.
And I still really don’t want the bottom line to be that yes, they should have gone for murder? But at the same time, right now, indeed: we’re in “worse things” and heading towards ever worse things than death…
(- I’m still stuck a bit on “why Martin, when alone-wise, Tim was just there?”. Was it because amongst the assistants, Martin was the most willing to read statements before MAG108? Was it really because Martin was easily expendable, prone to fear a lot, and had a special flavour of Loneliness due to both his crush on Jon and his one-sided relationship with his mother?
…………… but given how Elias just knew that Jon would run after Martin, how getting Jon to rush into The Lonely seemed to have been his main goal, and with the recent mention that:
(MAG149) GEORGIE: You must be Martin.
MARTIN: Y–yeah. Has… Melanie been talking about me?
GEORGIE: Oh, hum… Jon used to go on about you a lot.
… Jon had been talking about Martin off-tape, and given how he had been flustered about “office gossip” in MAG117 and his very persistent longing in season 4… was it that Martin was chosen not exactly for himself, but because Elias had identified Martin as someone Jon would always try to save, as early as in mid-season 3…? When Jon was at Georgie’s and/or when Jon went to ~talk with Martin~ right after being back from his kidnapping in MAG102…?)
- I’m not exactly sure I understood the terms of Peter and Elias’s bet. I’m assuming that Simon was mostly right in his train of thoughts – that Peter succeeding/winning would be getting an occasion to strengthen The Lonely (killing Jonah / setting up Martin as a dual avatar instead of him, thus both ruining The Eye’s chance for its ritual during this round + getting his revenge on Gertrude for ruining Forsaken’s ritual, all the while consolidating The Lonely by stealing a place of power and mayyybe shortening the time span until their next chance at a ritual attempt)…? Or was Peter genuinely preoccupied by The Extinction, or both? At least, Martin refusing to kill Jonah’s body meant Peter “losing”, meant that he had to cast Martin into The Lonely (and surrender his attempt on the Panopticon?); Peter didn’t even have to stay around, he’s just… probably making things hard on himself. Because hum: we saw what happened last time Jon tried to use his power (peering through the door?) to see through The Lonely at the end of MAG139; it left him a mess:
(MAG139) ARCHIVIST: … If I… Knew… what his plan was; if I knew what Peter was doing; if I just– [WHISPERING] … Can I…?
[LOW RUMBLING SOUND, STATIC RISES] [CRIES OF PAIN] [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION STEADILY RISING]
[NOISE OF SOMETHING-OR-JON FALLING]
[SQUEAL OF DISTORTION DECREASES]
[MUMBLING] End… E–end recording…!
(MAG140) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Yesterday, I tried something I… [INHALE] I–I deliberately tried to… Know something, like I did in the coffin, but… there was a lot. Too much [SIGH], and I…
BASIRA: What did you find out?
ARCHIVIST: [SNORT] Nothing. There was “too much”.
BASIRA: You don’t remember any of it?
ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] You drink the whole contents of a bar in three seconds, you don’t remember what the merlot tasted like. [SIGH] It just… hurt.
… and a predatory monster: it was around that time that he absolutely traumatised Jess Tyrell, and then cornered Floyd for his statement less than two weeks later (although there had “only” been three victims in the previous three months). Whatever state Jon will be in in/after The Lonely, it won’t be pretty… and it will fall either on Peter, either on Martin, either on whoever is in Jon’s way after he comes out of it. (……………. And there is all the Institute staff up there, who just got preyed upon by two Hunters, full of fears. Does The Eye’s “protection” extend to non-Archival staff…? Because I’m also really, really worried about the survivors, given current circumstances…)
Given how Elias laughed triumphantly right after Martin was sent into The Lonely, that was the main goal/hurdle to reach – but technically, Peter had done that For Free with Brian in MAG100, and Mordechai Lukas had also very spontaneously punished Barnabas that way. Was Elias’s laugh caused by his win against Peter, then, because he’s That Petty? Why such an elaborated scheme to get Peter to do that…? Is it because Elias tends to have way more fun than strictly necessary, or was Peter personally reluctant to send Martin in there…? Or was it necessary to make it happen in the middle of the Panopticon…?
- We don’t know (yet) whether or not Peter has been around for very long at this point (though he’s expecting to live long according to MAG134: “Martin… it’s going to be decades, if not centuries, before I get another chance to bring Forsaken into this world. Your last Archivist saw to that. […] The point is that, yes, obviously, if I last that long, I’m going to try again.”), but assuming that he’s had a human-like lifespan so far, how could you Do That to a baby, Jonah.
I’m still screaming over Elias’s delight:
(MAG158) PETER: No! That’s not– You can’t–
ELIAS: You’ve lost, Peter. Admit it. [CHUCKLE] He played you like a… like a cheap whistle.
PETER: No! Shut up!
Because it was??? Such an awful jab:
* Making fun of the boatswain’s call from the Tundra.
* Shakespeare ref I think???
GUILDENSTERN: But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony. I have not the skill.
HAMLET: Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me. You would seem to know my stops. You would pluck out the heart of my mystery. You would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass. And there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak? 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.
(Pipe’s back.)
* nsfw call-out; rude thing to say about your (ex?)husband’s performance in bed, Elias; also that’s tmi.
- I’m gonna miss Peter if he gets obliterated like Breekon, but AOUCH, he began the episode SO HARSHLY:
(MAG158) MARTIN: … Mm.
PETER: Is everything alright, Martin?
MARTIN: Nah, it’s fine. … Don’t particularly like it down here.
PETER: Ah, yes. Of course. Hard to trust the doors, I imagine.
MARTIN: [BREATHLESS CHUCKLE] Yeah, well, everyone else seems to these days, so…!
PETER: But she’s still the same corridors, I suppose. [INHALE] I’m sure– … what was his name? … Tim! Tim would–
MARTIN: I’d really– … rather not talk about it, Peter.
[…] NOT!SASHA: Who let me out? [SILENCE] Don’t be shy. I just want to say thank you. [SILENCE] All right, have it your way. Now, if you’ll excuse me: I have some unfinished business. [MENACING SATISFIED LAUGHTER]
[WEIRD SCUTTLING MOVEMENT]
MARTIN: [RAGGED BREATHING] Th–th–tha–, that was, hum…
PETER: Yes!
MARTIN: [GULP] And it’s– it’s going to…
PETER: Make sure everyone is too busy to follow us. They’ll be fine. … Probably.
Triple combo, right in Martin’s trauma. The one time he was trapped with Tim in Michael’s corridors at the end of season 2; gratuitous Tim mention that Martin didn’t want to hear; freeing the Not!Them, who had terrorised Tim&Martin even before they had learned that it had actually killed Sasha… aouch. Was Peter being shitty on purpose, to destabilise Martin, or was it really just little things that he said and did without thinking about how it could make Martin feel…? He had been very interested in Martin’s feelings recently:
(MAG156) MARTIN: Will I be coming back?
PETER: You’re not going to die, if that’s what you’re asking, but… no. If all goes well, you won’t be.
MARTIN: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE]
PETER: How does that make you feel?
MARTIN: … Nothing. [SNORT] Nothing at all…!
PETER: Excellent. I’m so proud of you, Martin.
So it could have been to test his apathy…? But aouch anyway.
- I loved his voice SO DAMN MUCH at that moment:
(MAG158) MARTIN: And you need me for this?
PETER: Correct! Without a connection to The Eye, any attempt to use it would likely end… very messily indeed! But thankfully, it just so happens that you hold such a connection.
MARTIN: So that’s it… Both “lonely” and “watching”.
PETER: You must admit you’re the perfect candidate.
Because. Yeah, it was summing him up well. Saying atrocious things with a cold cheerfulness, absolutely unconcerned.
(- I think it’s safer to assume that Peter was a sore loser there:
(MAG158) PETER: Then do it, Martin. [UNFOLDING POCKET KNIFE?] We’re the same, you and I; we don’t need anyone else. Watching from a distance, that’s always who you’ve been. Haven’t you enjoyed it, these last few months? Drifting through the Archives, unseen, unjudged? You’ll like it in there. I promise.
MARTIN: … Yeah. Yeah, I think I would.
[…] 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”.
[FOOTSTEPS]
PETER: … No. No! This isn’t fair, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You knew, he must have–
But I also kind of want to think that he had grown a bit fond of Martin and was genuine about wanting to share his patron / giving Martin a life that Martin would find some comfort in? >> Not good for Martin but. Somehow, it’s even sadder for Martin if Peter’s words really were just that empty, to ensure he would win a bet?)
- Hhhhh, we knew that the Not!Them was still… there, since Leitner had explained it to Jon:
(MAG080) ARCHIVIST: That thing… Is it dead?
LEITNER: Unlikely. Whether something like that can actually be destroyed… It is trapped. I, I hope for a very long time.
But I really wasn’t expecting to see it again!! Somehow, Elias had told the Team that Leitner had killed it (MAG092: “It finally tried to kill John. Then Leitner killed it. Then I killed Leitner. And I believe that brings us up to date. More or less.”), so was it a conscious lie, a slip of the tongue, or was it that Elias didn’t know that it was actually still kicking back then…?
* Leitner was suspecting that the Not!Them was actually trying to find him when it was wandering in the tunnels:
(MAG080) LEITNER: The “Not!Sasha” had come down several times. I suspect it was almost as curious about me as you were. Perhaps it thought you might have better luck flushing me out.
… but UHOH. Was it actually trying to find the Panopticon, already?
* I still miss Sasha, and I’m SAD, and Martin’s shattered breath and Jon stuttering to explain what it was broke me:
(MAG158) DAISY: What the hell is that thing?
[…] ARCHIVIST: Do you remember what happened to Sasha?
BASIRA: That’s the thing that took her?
ARCHIVIST: It was trapped in the tunnels, it– Martin. Something’s happening down there.
Because… Sasha… And of course, for both Daisy and Basira, it’s just a dangerous monster, it’s not a creature who also killed a friend; they weren’t around back then, they never knew Sasha. But for Jon&Martin, it’s… a reminder of what they’ve lost…
* Vindication: the Not!Them had mocked Jon about how he wouldn’t survive to witness The Unknowing, and AHAHA.
(MAG079) NOT!SASHA: You’ll miss The Unknowing, of course, but you wouldn’t understand it anyway.
Guess who missed The Unknowing in the end. (Gertrude had mentioned that avatars tended to fade or go erratic after a ritual attempt, but given that the Not!Them hadn’t participated, will it be affected…? As we’ve seen, Jared was fine.)
* I don’t think that the Not!Them will be trapped again, unless it’s thrown into the coffin, and I don’t think that the Hunters would be enough to kill it… so either it’ll flee, taking a new victim, either Jon will destroy it like he did with the Dark Sun, maybe…?
- I’m… heartbroken about Julia:
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: What… Daisy, are you–?
BASIRA: Shh!
[GUNSHOTS, MUFFLED BY THE DISTANCE]
[FEMALE SCREAMS]
ARCHIVIST: Oh no…
BASIRA: Stay here, both of you. I’ll check it out.
[MORE DISTANT GUNSHOTS]
[…] BASIRA: Looks like two people. An old guy–
DAISY: And a woman with a scar.
ARCHIVIST: Oh, God, now? Why now?!
BASIRA: It’s probably not a coincidence. From what I saw, they’ve been toying with the rest of the Institute, but it won’t be long until they’re all dead or escaped.
[…] TREVOR: [IN THE DISTANCE] Jooooooonny boy! [CACKLES]
JULIA: [IN THE DISTANCE] [CACKLES] We want to make a statement!
[…] JULIA: [IN THE DISTANCE] Ha! You see that, old man?
TREVOR: [IN THE DISTANCE] Told ya. They’re all monsters in here.
Because she sounded absolutely gone. Trevor had pointed out that ~the lines got blurrier every day~, but Julia was younger, had been a Hunter for a shorter amount of time and… there were her life circumstances, the fact that her father had done horrible things to try to get her mother back, and had tried to protect her from all of The Dark stuff…? It’s really sadder in Julia’s case, because it gives the feeling that that cycle of violence was absolutely inescapable – that Julia’s only options were either to die as prey, killed by Darvish, or to become the mindless predator. Julia&Trevor attacked the Institute (… well: basically launched a terrorist attack against it; they had mentioned it was “full of monsters”, it was a cleansing and/or toying with innocents) and, even if “best case” scenario and there aren’t any casualties, that’s still tons of people traumatised for life. How could Julia even come back to normal after this, when she’s this far gone…?
- TT___TT Archival Team sharing information and (snappily) discussing about what to do…
(MAG158) BASIRA: So Elias left it?
ARCHIVIST: Or Martin. O–or Peter, or… Annabelle!
BASIRA: Fine. Whatever. Could be a distraction.
ARCHIVIST: Only one way to find out.
BASIRA: We don’t have time for this.
DAISY: We don’t know that. We’ve no idea what sort of timeframe we’re on. I say play it.
ARCHIVIST: Thank you.
… and of course, it’s when everything is going to hell and these three people probably won’t be in the same room ever again (or at least not as themselves).
(- I’M GONNA MISS THESE LITTLE thINGS SO MUCH…
(MAG158) BASIRA: Set up by the door. Try and take them when they break through it.
DAISY: Right.
ARCHIVIST: Do, uh… do I get a gun?
BASIRA: You ever fired one?
ARCHIVIST: You never taught me!
BASIRA: You never asked. Besides, we’ve got problems enough without–
[CRASHING SOUND]
That mix of snappiness and awkwardness and closeness in the Worst Moments…)
- We knew it was coming, but still…
(MAG158) BASIRA: This might be it.
DAISY: Basira…
BASIRA: Didn’t think it would end like this. [CHUCKLING] You know what, actually I think I did!
[GUNSHOTS IN THE DISTANCE]
NOT!SASHA: [CACKLING, IN THE DISTANCE]
DAISY: [PANTING] Basira… promise me something.
BASIRA: What? … No, Daisy, no.
DAISY: [PANTING] Mm, Basira… When this is over, you need to find me… and kill me. Promise me.
BASIRA: No. No, Daisy, we’ll figure something out!
NOT!SASHA: [IN THE DISTANCE] You can’t hide forever, Jon.
DAISY: [PANTING] These last months, I… it was always borrowed time. Can’t outrun it forever.
BASIRA: Daisy…
DAISY: [PANTING] Promise me.
BASIRA: … I promise.
DAISY: Thanks. [BREATHLESS] Now, run…!
BASIRA: Daisy…!
DAISY: [GROWLING] Run!
[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS]
DAISY: [GROANS]
[COCKED GUN]
JULIA: [LAUGH] There you are!
TREVOR: All alone! [COCKED GUN] Like a pup.
DAISY: [BARKS]
JULIA: … Shit!
[ONE GUNSHOT]
[CLICK.]
I’m so heartbroken about Daisy TT___TT It… didn’t really sound like she was agreeing to sacrifice herself to save Basira, but more like The Hunt managed to catch up with her because of the violence, and she only managed to say her last will before getting completely drowned, reverting to the state she had turned into during The Unknowing (when she ripped Hope apart with her bare hands). I don’t think there will be another coffin trip; I guess there could be something because of her ties to the Institute, but I doubt it… Damnit, I was kinda hoping that The Eye would protect her a bit longer despite the threat of hearing her Blood, but no, the big eyeball was absolutely useless ;;
And gdi ;; At least, Tim got to pull the trigger and get his revenge, and Adelard had neutralised a Corruption avatar and freed people from their torment, while Daisy only got caught up (preyed) on by The Hunt without being able to strike back before that. What she was in season 4 wasn’t a waste, never (we got to meet the real Daisy, and she was fantastic!), but it feels so, so sad that The Hunt got her back when it mattered so much to her to never go back to it…
(Obligatory “archive dog!!” joke, though.)
(- Also sad because she was hoping she would be the one to kill Elias, in MAG082, and fucker REALLY has it coming at this point. Violence Is Bad, but still, please, someone, stab him.)
(- And it reaaaally doesn’t bode well for Jon, uh… Daisy had been involved in violence and supernatural stories for 16 years, though, so that’s longer. But the fact that resisting was only a momentary reprieve before being taken in again is nnnnot exactly a good sign for Jon, given how heavily Daisy and Jon had been paralleled as going into withdrawal in season 4, and how Jon was finally pushed to use his powers again in this episode…)
- Also still crying over Daisy and Basira’s goodbyes:
(MAG158) DAISY: [PANTING] Basira… promise me something.
BASIRA: What? … No, Daisy, no.
DAISY: [PANTING] Mm, Basira… When this is over, you need to find me… and kill me. Promise me.
BASIRA: No. No, Daisy, we’ll figure something out!
NOT!SASHA: [IN THE DISTANCE] You can’t hide forever, Jon.
DAISY: [PANTING] These last months, I… it was always borrowed time. Can’t outrun it forever.
BASIRA: Daisy…
DAISY: [PANTING] Promise me.
BASIRA: … I promise.
DAISY: Thanks. [BREATHLESS] Now, run…!
And what it means for Basira orz Either she does it at the end of this season, either part of season 5 will be about finding and killing (the creature that took over) Daisy, uh…? I want to hope for them (since hum, we’re like, back to the end of season 3: the duo shattered, Daisy lost and dangerous) but it already happened once; the biggest difference is that Daisy had managed to get her voice back during season 4, instead of being fuelled by mindless violence like she had been in season 3.
It was also… Daisy going back to the person Basira used to admire, as a fixed point:
(MAG117) BASIRA: But at least Daisy’s coming along. I mean… I know she’s… difficult. Everything they say about her, it’s true, it’s fair. But… she’s solid. She’s a fixed point. And if she’s there, I know exactly where I stand, exactly what I’m doing relative to her. She has no doubts. […] Despite everything she’s done, she’s… she’s still the best partner I ever had.
Daisy, firm about what is happening and what has to be done – even though it’s about killing her.
(I’m also a bit sad that ;; Daisy and Basira had been around for so long, and I really wanted to think they were meant to be interpreted as a couple and/or mutually crushing? But although there are lots of indicators, it has never been made explicit, and now it would only be retroactive…)
- One Good Thing:
(MAG158) ELIAS: I guarantee it won’t be pleasant for them, but I honestly don’t know if their ties to the Institute are quite as strong as I may have implied. You, at least, should be insulated from the fall-out by your new allegiance. Jon… might be powerful enough to weather it. Melanie’s well out of it, so that just leaves Basira and Daisy. And the rest of the Institute, of course, and you can’t tell me you care about them.
MELANIE IS OFFICIALLY FINE!! She really fled the boat before it sank, uh.
- I love that mentioning the use of Ruskin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture tends to lead to roasting:
(MAG080) LEITNER: By carefully reading specific passages in certain locations I am able to exercise… a degree of control over the substance of the tunnels.
ARCHIVIST: I didn’t hear you say anything down there.
LEITNER: I said reading. It doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.
(MAG158) PETER: Do you want to see how it works?
MARTIN: Uh, n–no; no, I’d really rather you didn’t mess it up–
PETER: No, I insist! Watch.
[SILENCE]
MARTIN: Very impressive.
PETER: I’m reading. Shush.
(Had Peter actual trouble with the reading, though?)
- What was Peter trying to say re:Tim?
(MAG158) PETER: But she’s still the same corridors, I suppose. [INHALE] I’m sure– … what was his name? … Tim! Tim would–
MARTIN: I’d really– … rather not talk about it, Peter.
It was thematically fitting because Tim had been down in the tunnels a lot during season 3, Smirke’s architecture was his speciality, and he had been trapped in the corridors together with Martin but…? I have no idea what Peter intended to say about him?
- fesdcujheznfds every end of the season has to star Martin with a corpse (or almost), uh. He found Gertrude’s between MAG039/MAG040; found Leitner’s together with Tim in MAG080; ~there was Jon’s~ at the end of season 3 (at least, Martin visited him before season 4, according to the trailer); and now, he got to find Jonah Magnus’s, although not really dead. Martin, you life sucks.
- ;___; Daisy had pointed out that Jon was self-destructive, and… Martin actually wasn’t really good in that regard, uh…
(MAG142) DAISY: Used to see it all the time back in the force, especially with the Section’d. Not like there’s… “normal” trauma, you know? But it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless.
MARTIN: Oh, god…
DAISY: And of course, for Jon, there’s survivor’s guilt in there, too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.
MARTIN: Yeah, well. We’ve all had trauma.
(MAG158) MARTIN: It’s not him! It’s not anybody, it’s just me. Always has been! I… When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into had trapped me into spreading evil, and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me. I told myself I was trying to protect the others, but honestly? We didn’t even like each other. Maybe I just thought joining up with you would be a good way to get killed. And then… [SHAKILY] Jon came back, and… and suddenly, I had a reason: I had to keep your attention on me. Make you feel in control, so you didn’t take it out on him. And if that meant drifting further away… so what? I’d already grieved for him, and if it meant now saving him, it was worth it! […] So I… played along, waited to see what your endgame was. And here we are. … [SNORT] Funny. Looks like I was right the first time – it’s probably still a good way to get killed.
(Extra-sad re: “we didn’t even like each other” because he still had gone drinking with Basira and Melanie, and he was concerned about Melanie post-MAG106. I mean, yeah, it didn’t fundamentally mean “liking” them but… it was still something.)
* I love that Martin is SO unapologetic about his feelings for Jon, technically, even more than in season 3:
(MAG118) ELIAS: [EXASPERATED BREATHING] … Did Jon put you up to this?
MARTIN: You think I’m doing this for him?
ELIAS: No. It’s just the sort of half-baked scheme he’d come up with. And I’m well aware that you’ll do just about anything for him–
MARTIN: I–
ELIAS: –and I don’t need to read your mind for that one.
MARTIN: … Do you rea– … Is it so hard to believe that I hate you as well?
ELIAS: No. It’s just hard to imagine that you would act on it.
From protesting that he wasn’t doing this for Jon, to saying that Jon was his reason.
* So. Peter was wrong when he had told Martin that
(MAG126) PETER: [CHUCKLING] I had hoped that all this time apart would have given you the space you needed, but…
MARTIN: … You said he’d probably never wake up.
PETER: And he beat the odds. Which is good. But it does make things more complicated. It doesn’t… actually change… anything.
Jon coming back did change something. And it’s sure not healthy on Martin’s side, but it’s also… still something indeed…? Still better than the nothing he used to (not) have…? But so sad that the way Martin describes it, the way he talked with Jon, it’s really never associated with the idea of constructing something, or a future. Those are very… Lonely feelings indeed? That he’s keeping from afar? (And gdi, I would really want Jon and Martin to finally manage to talk and share, to communicate and reach a peaceful ground? To hear and see each other? But given the circumstances… it probably won’t be now…)
I’m not even sure Jon&Martin will talk before the end of the season, actually? Or maybe not directly to each other – through tape, through written messages could be other options. But on the other hand: Jon’s worry and feelings for Martin have been a major element this season, so… there is probably a payoff coming, rather than immediate and absolutely shattering heartbreak?
- Martin once again confirmed that he has gone dual Eye/Lonely ;;
(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”.
But I mostly want for him to get back to a state of mind where he would go back to writing poetry?! ;_; Unlikely, I know, but. (And to not harm people to feed… Has he been feeding on himself and his own loneliness, or are we in for an awful reveal about the researchers who disappeared…)
- In the list of people Martin had lost:
(MAG158) MARTIN: I… When I first came to you, I thought I had lost everything. Jon was dead, my mother was dead, the job I had put everything into had trapped me into spreading evil, and I… I really didn’t care what happened to me.
… I’m surprised that Tim wasn’t mentioned at all…? Tim had told Jon that he didn’t feel as close to Martin as he was with Sasha, but I had gotten the impression that Martin did care a lot more about him…? And it’s still a Do Not Talk About Him subject:
(MAG120) ELIAS: Hello, inspector. Martin. I’m… sorry to hear about Tim.
MARTIN: Don’t.
ELIAS: And Daisy, I suppose.
MARTIN: Don’t. you. dare.
(MAG138) MARTIN: I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…! I wish– … No. No, it’s fine, I’m… fine, I… [EXHALE] I can do this.
(MAG158) PETER: But she’s still the same corridors, I suppose. [INHALE] I’m sure– … what was his name? … Tim! Tim would–
MARTIN: I’d really– … rather not talk about it, Peter.
(Plus, when he mentioned “the job I had put everything into had trapped me into spreading evil”, it felt like what Tim had told him back in season 3:
(MAG098) TIM: Look, it’s not that. I… [SIGH] This place is evil, Martin. And I think doing what It wants? Probably makes us evil. And It wants those things to be read. I mean, I’m not gonna stop you, but, at the same time–
MARTIN: I– I get it.
So Martin did remember about that conversation, uh…)
(- We knew that the death of Martin’s mother had affected him deeply, Basira had told Jon. And he explicitly said it. But after what Elias told him (and forced him to see) in MAG118, I still would like to hear him describe his relationship to her – how he felt it, what MAG118 changed, if it changed anything…)
(Laughing and crying that Martin “my dad left my family when I was 8” suddenly got two trashdads, who are the worst, and whom he doesn’t want.)
(- Shut your mouuuuth Eliiiiaaaas
(MAG158) ELIAS: You, at least, should be insulated from the fall-out by your new allegiance. Jon… might be powerful enough to weather it. Melanie’s well out of it, so that just leaves Basira and Daisy. And the rest of the Institute, of course, and you can’t tell me you care about them.
MARTIN: But of course I do!
ELIAS: Do you, though? Do you really care, about any of them? Or is that worrying just simply an old reflex? [SILENCE] … Goodness. Peter has done his work well, hasn’t he? [CHUCKLE]
Who caaaares if it’s a “reflex” and done without conviction!! Doing the right thing just because you think it would be the right thing to do, even though you don’t feel much about it, is still better than doing nothing or doing something awful?? You can still define the kind of person you want to be through you deliberate actions?? Even if Martin was neutral about it, the fact that he still did his best to prevent Peter from hurting Daisy or random staff members in MAG144 matters, shut your mouuuuuth damniiiit!!)
- It’s both hilarious and heartbreaking that Martin’s reasons for getting wary of Peter were:
(MAG158) MARTIN: When you started talking about The Extinction, though… You… had me, actually, for a while. But then… [CHUCKLES] then you tried to make me the hero, tried to sell me on the idea that I was the “only one who could stop it”. And that? That never sat right with me. I mean–I mean, lo–look at me! [SNORTING] I’m, I’m not exactly a, a “Chosen One”. But, by then, I was in too deep. So I… played along, waited to see what your endgame was.
… Because 1°) Peter, as a self-centred Lonely avatar, thought that insisting about how Martin was a Hero and Necessary would do the trick, 2°) Martin was too self-deprecative for this. It also echoed Jon’s interrogations at the end of MAG139, about why they had all been “chosen” – Jon just accepted that it had been the case, or some bad luck, while Martin… immediately questioned the idea. (And gdi, Martin!! But Jon chose you at the end of the very same episode… ;;)
- Peter!! Peter, you knew that a knife wasn’t fitting Martin:
(MAG039) MARTIN: I used to carry around a knife, but I started thinking that, well, cutting into someone laterally wasn’t really the most efficient way to get them out, and besides which, they seem to be quite slow burrowing in a straight line so, given their size, th–the corkscrew just seemed to be the better option. … Look, you guys got to go home every day, okay. I didn’t!
(MAG108) PETER: Martin, isn’t it?
MARTIN: Y–you, don’t move! Em, don’t you come any closer, okay! I’ve got a, I’ve got a knife!
PETER: Do you? That… that would seem widely out of character, from what I’ve been told.
MARTIN: Okay, but okay, step back.
(MAG158) MARTIN: … I’ll need to kill him.
PETER: Yes. Don’t worry, though. I brought a knife. […] Then do it, Martin. [UNFOLDING POCKET KNIFE?] We’re the same, you and I; we don’t need anyone else.
[…] PETER: Martin. What are you doing?
MARTIN: I’m… saying no. I refuse! Game over.
[KNIFE CLATTERING ON THE GROUND]
If you had brought him a corkscrew, maybe he would have said “yes”.
- I’m still LOVING that deception is one of Martin’s core features…
(MAG056) ARCHIVIST: It was in the old document room, just next to where you used to sleep. Your handwriting, “If the others find out I’ve been lying”. Lying about what, Martin?!
MARTIN: L– look, just forget about it, okay? Please.
ARCHIVIST: I CAN’T forget it! Everyone in this place has so many goddamn secrets, and I can’t trust a word you say! Not about this, and not about Trevor!
MARTIN: Jon, just–
ARCHIVIST: MARTIN!
MARTIN: Okay! Okay. Okay. Just… just… promise you won’t… fire me.
ARCHIVIST: … fire you…? Fine!
MARTIN: I… … I lied on my CV.
ARCHIVIST: … What?
MARTIN: I don’t have a Master’s in parapsychology, I don’t even have a degree. When I was 17, my mom, she… had… she had some problems, and I ended up dropping out of school, t– trying to support us. I tried everything, but no one was hiring. So I… I just kinda started to lie on my applications, sending them out to just about anywhere. For some reason, my lie about parapsychology got me an interview with Elias and, and then a job here. M– most of my employment details are made up, I’m only 29!
ARCHIVIST: Right, I… uh… I believe you!
(MAG120) ELIAS: I must admit I’m impressed, Martin. I knew you were all planning something, of course, but I didn’t believe you specifically would have the… er, capacity for boldness that you displayed. It took me quite by surprise.
MARTIN: You didn’t just see it in me?
ELIAS: Honestly, I didn’t look. For all my power, I will admit I am not immune to making the occasional lazy assumption. I presumed that I knew you thoroughly, but by the time you demonstrated otherwise… well. There was simply too much to keep watching over. I only have two eyes, after all.
(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people!
ELIAS: That makes two of us.
(MAG158) PETER: The Extinction is coming.
MARTIN: Oh, I’m sure it is! But that’s not what this is about, is it? This isn’t about “saving the world” – it’s all just some power play against him! I might not know exactly what’s going on, but I don’t think I want any part of this. However much I want to kill him… I’m out.
PETER: But you said–
MARTIN: Honestly… I mostly just said what I thought you wanted to hear.
PETER: I see. … This is your doing, is it?
ELIAS: [AUDIBLE GRIN] Hardly…!
Not sure that it’s enough / the gist of it for Web stuff but. Still.
(And I’m REELING that Elias sounded almost proud of Martin with that one.)
(And that their “powerplay” sounds so much like foreplay.)
- Martin was so good when spitting at those annoying disgusting old men and their weird games?? And then:
(MAG158) ELIAS: Peter. [PAUSE] It’s time.
[SILENCE]
PETER: … Fine.
MARTIN: Great. [VERY SHARP SQUEALS OF DISTORTION INCREASING] Now, perhaps if one of you, then, can tell me what–
[SHARP SQUEALS OF DISTORTION REACHING A PEAK, BEFORE DECREASING]
ELIAS: It won’t be that bad, Peter~ [CHUCKLE] You’ll see. Now: he’ll be here soon, so you can leave, or…
PETER: Oh no. No. I’m not gonna make it easy on him. You haven’t won yet.
ELIAS: Your choice. Just make sure to leave the door open.
… that mood whiplash of Martin beginning to ask for answers and being heartlessly wooshed as if he had barely spoken since the start.
- Meanwhile: Jon has been so, soooo vulgar this season!!
(MAG131) ARCHIVIST: … Shit.
(MAG154) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] [SOFTLY BUT WITH FEELING] … Fuck.
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: You gotta be fucking kidding m–
Next corpse coming back to life is your grandmother, putting soap in your mouth.
(I do love how that last one managed to… somehow make the scene a bit lighter because Jon was losing it, it was too much.)
(On a sidenote: Daisy, of all people, has never said “fuck”, only “shit”, I think? So she can’t die or lose herself there!!!)
- Why did Jon blank out after hearing Gertrude’s tape?
(MAG158) [CLICK–]
BASIRA: Right, so what does that tell us? [SILENCE] Jon? … Jon!
ARCHIVIST: Uh, y–yes, sorry. Right, just, uh… uh, the Panopticon. It’s the, uh…
Was it because of the shock of hearing her murder live? Was it because he noticed something off? Was it already Elias’s ~call~? (There was no static, though.) It felt to me like he was piecing something together…
- Peter & Martin had climbed the Panopticon’s central tower fine; meanwhile, Jon…
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: [LABOURED BREATHING]
ELIAS: Ah, Jon. I was almost worried…! You found your way all right.
ARCHIVIST: [PANTING] Yes. … Ye–yes, I did… How?
… was out of it. Someone has been smoking too much lately, hm? (Do you still have your lighter on you, young old man…?)
- I’m ;; worried over Jon ~appreciating~ the beauty of things made to hurt:
(MAG143) [CREAKING, SPARKLER-LIKE STATIC SATURATING THE RECORDING.]
ARCHIVIST: It’s… beautiful…
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: [STATIC] That’s the Panopticon…
ELIAS: My, you have grown. Yes. A masterpiece, isn’t it?
ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] … Y–yeah. It is.
(And it feels extremely Hannigram, uh.)
(Oufttt over the fact that Jon’s powers provided him with the answer he sought right in front of Elias… Elias had told him that he had to find/get his answers himself, back in MAG092, and it’s… happening… Elias had been so glad/proud when Jon had let it slip that he Knew Gertrude and Gerry had worked together, back in MAG102, and Jon had so many moments of Knowing in season 4…)
- Still not over the fact that Jon still asked Elias questions assuming he would get answers? ;;
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: [SEETHING] Where is he?
ELIAS: Peter Lukas has him. Cast him into The Lonely, and with every passing moment, he gets further away from you.
ARCHIVIST: How do I bring him back?
ELIAS: From out here? … Impossible.
ARCHIVIST: … You want me to follow him. […] … How do I do it?
Jon sounded absolutely unsurprised when he reached the Panopticon, so… he had probably guessed that yeah, anyway, Elias had planned things, that he was doing exactly what Elias wanted, and that it was a price worth paying as long as it was aligning with his own interests (saving Martin)… Even at the cost of opening this damn inner door:
(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 know it’s there, and I can’t forget it, and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. 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?
[SILENCE]
ARCHIVIST: I drown.
(MAG158) ELIAS: [INHALE] Wasn’t too long ago. And I’m sure traces of their passage still remain.
ARCHIVIST: [INHALE]
ELIAS: Just open your mind.
ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE]
ELIAS: Drink it all in. Know their route, [VERY SHARP SQUEALS OF DISTORTION, INCREASING] and simply… follow it.
ARCHIVIST: [LOUDER BREATHING]
ELIAS: Very good.
It had to come, “Jon opening it to save someone/Martin in particular” had been my first thought when Jon had described it to Basira but gdi!!! Still painful that it’s happening ;; It has been such an awful and painful string of hoping he could save people and/or refusing to allow people to die, only to have to deal with their losses…
(MAG047) MICHAEL: [DISTORTED LAUGH] Yes… Ah… Did you notice which door she left through?
ARCHIVIST: Yes… It w–
MICHAEL: [CHUCKLES]
ARCHIVIST: … wait! No, there was–
MICHAEL: There has never been a door there, Archivist, your mind plays tricks on you.
ARCHIVIST: Let her go.
MICHAEL: [DISTORTED LAUGH] “No”?
ARCHIVIST: Get her back here!
MICHAEL: Are you going to attack me?
(MAG098) MARTIN: Yeah, we talked. Not long, he– Y’know, I think he thinks that the distance keeps us safe, you know? Like, like, if he just makes sure that we’re not involved, we’re somehow fine.
TIM: He’s an idiot. Look, we didn’t know what that door was, and it still trapped us. Ignorance isn’t going to save anyone.
MARTIN: No, I mean, you’re right, I guess. He was… Y’know, we know about Sasha now, and… he said he doesn’t want to lose anyone else. Like, y’know, it’s his fault.
(MAG118) TIM: You knew I might not be coming back!
ARCHIVIST: I knew none of us might be coming back, and I’m not gonna let anyone get killed for nothing!
TIM: Oh, except for those people in there!
ARCHIVIST: They’re already dead!
TIM: Not all of them!
ARCHIVIST: I am not losing you as well!!
(MAG158) BASIRA: … Goddamnit. Jon, go; we’ll keep them busy.
ARCHIVIST: What…? No! I–
BASIRA: Don’t argue, just go.
NOT!SASHA: [IN THE DISTANCE] Jooo–oooon~?
ARCHIVIST: … Fine. Just don’t die.
DAISY: Go.
And I hatehatehatehate that Elias absolutely played on the fact it was so personal for Jon, how his feelings could be a tool to get him where he wanted…
(MAG158) ELIAS: Peter Lukas has him. Cast him into The Lonely, and with every passing moment, he gets further away from you.
ARCHIVIST: How do I bring him back?
ELIAS: From out here? … Impossible.
ARCHIVIST: … You want me to follow him.
ELIAS: No, Jon. You want you to follow him.
That emphasis on “you”…
(I still want to be a bit cautious before labelling Jon’s feelings as romantic, as long as it’s not confirmed-confirmed? But hhhhh yeah, no, Jon is desperate and longing and crushing awfully hard, uh…)
- There is still Helen around, and Annabelle hasn’t revealed herself either so… at this point, what is she waiting for or expecting…? Is she planning to go against Elias, is she planning to use him, or are they in this together…? If Elias indeed needed Jon to experience the Fears first-hand, The Web pushed in that direction with the coffin (leaving MAG130’s tape and leading Jon towards The Flesh, too); it was also The Web who made Oliver give Jon his statement to push him to wake up – and Jon ~made his choice~, and Jon waking up gave Martin a ~reason~ to not follow Peter entirely… It seemed like The Web and Elias’s interests got suspiciously aligned this season…? What Elias said about The Web was non-committal:
(MAG148) BASIRA: Or that we were being stalked by some freaky spider woman. Don’t tell me you didn’t know about that!
ELIAS: Ah, uh, y–yes… W–well… To be honest, I’d… advise you to leave that one – well alone.
BASIRA: Oh yeah?
ELIAS: Uh! Look, look, look. I’ve… been doing this a long time now and, if there’s one thing I’ve learned about The Web, it’s that it plays its own game. All you can really do is… hope it doesn’t get in the way of whatever your plan is. Because the Spider usually wins…! Assuming you have a plan.
(“I’ve been doing this a long time now” fuuuuck oooooooffffff!!)
And he can’t have been unaware of Jon’s personal history with The Web, nor of all the spiders in the Institute, so…? Are they in it together, is he dual Web/Beholding, is he being made to ignore The Web, or has he taken precautions to not suffer from any interference…?
(- Other potential players: The Extinction and… the tape recorders (if they’re not Web :w). A tape turned on during Gertrude’s murder scene, and that was the first time we’ve seen it happen in Gertrude’s era. The recorders also behaved quite strangely with the Panopticon, because… there was one with Martin&Peter / we switched to Jon&co / we went back to Martin&Peter&Elias but, when Martin then Peter left, one stayed with Elias – unless Martin planted the same one that had been following him in the first part of the episode, this means one showed up in the Panopticon, on its own. We’re back to Jon’s argument to Tim in season 3:
(MAG114) ARCHIVIST: [SOFTLY] Interesting. What do you think is listening?
TIM: What? […] And you know what I think. It’s that… the thing that runs the Institute, “The Watcher” or “The Eye” or whatever.
ARCHIVIST: I dis… I disagree. This whole place is a temple to The Eye, Tim, I don’t think the tape recorders make any difference.
TIM: [VICIOUSLY] Elias, then.
ARCHIVIST: In that case, we’ll stick to talking about things he already knows.
If The Eye was behind them, why record what it’s witnessing anyway?)
(And although Jon has listed Peter, Elias and Annabelle as potential suspects behind the last tapes that were sent to him… we still don’t have any indication of who it is.)
- On the one hand, Peter wanted Martin to be apathetic; on the other, Elias was REALLY glad about Jon being fearful:
(MAG156) PETER: How does that make you feel?
MARTIN: … Nothing. [SNORT] Nothing at all…!
PETER: Excellent. I’m so proud of you, Martin.
MARTIN: I really don’t care.
PETER: Perfect.
(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: [LOUDER BREATHING]
ELIAS: Very good. Are you scared, Jon?
ARCHIVIST: Yes…
ELIAS: Perfect.
… It’s especially interesting re:Jon given how Gertrude had a very particular personal relation to fear, Adelard wondering if she was dissimulating or steel-like when it comes to this. Jon appears as a contrast: he fears a lot…
(MAG125) BASIRA: You ready?
ARCHIVIST: [DRY HOLLOW LAUGHTER] No…? [SHAKY VOICE] You’re sure you don’t have… restraints, or…
BASIRA: You think she’s gonna sleep through being tied down? I’ll try and grab her if she wakes, but…
ARCHIVIST: … Okay…! Here we go…! [BREATHES DEEPLY]
(MAG132) ARCHIVIST: I have her voice. I think that should be enough to find her, and I’m leaving my– … I’ll leave it with the tape. I should be able to find my way back to it… I think. Wish me luck…! … Although I suppose if you’re hearing this, then I… I didn’t have any. I don’t know. I’m… I’m scared. [SHORT CHUCKLE] When does the fear go away…?
(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] 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. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. And I don’t want to lose anyone else so, if I can maybe stop that happening, and [DRY CHUCKLE] the only danger is to me, I– I’ll do it in a heartbeat; worst case scenario… the universe loses another monster.
DAISY: That’s messed up.
ARCHIVIST: [LOW SELF-DEPRECATIVE DRY LAUGHTER] … Yeah. I suppose it is.
DAISY: Did you know the coffin wouldn’t kill you?
ARCHIVIST: I– guess I thought imprisonment wouldn’t… wouldn’t be as bad as it was.
DAISY: [SHAKY SIGH]
ARCHIVIST: And it’s a lot easier to make that choice than it is to actually… endure the result. You might have noticed when I was in there with you, I… I had regrets.
(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.
(MAG143) HELEN: … How was it?
ARCHIVIST: Mm?
HELEN: Looking upon The Dark.
ARCHIVIST: I thought I was going to die.
HELEN: You seem to think that a lot. I remember when you thought you were going to die at my threshold.
ARCHIVIST: … Yeah.
(MAG150) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It’s just… The Web can be subtle, you understand?
MELANIE: And? For all you know, its plan is to paralyse you with indecision…!
ARCHIVIST: [SIGH]
MELANIE: Leaving you… sitting here, terrified that… everything you do is somehow all part of its Grand Plan… And who do you think that fear is gonna feed?
ARCHIVIST: Yes, well. [INHALE] You are… not the first, to make that point.
(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … When does it stop?
HELEN: What?
ARCHIVIST: The guilt… The misery… All the others I’ve met, they’ve been… cold. Cruel. They’ve enjoyed what they do. When does The Eye… make me monstrous?
… and that seems to be good for Elias’s plans/Jon’s self-realisation as an Archivist…? Season 4 feels like it’s been a slow game of completing Jon’s set by giving him incentive and by fostering his worry: removing the Slaughter’s bullet from Melanie, making him contact a Flesh avatar in his search for an anchor, making him go down in the Buried coffin in the hope of saving Daisy, making him see a Dark artefact after making him think he would be stopping a ritual). Elias has never been about reassurance; quite the contrary, he always pushed Jon to fear the worst from things, and it was once again the case when he pointed out how dangerous going into The Lonely would be. There is still the question about whether it was about the physical or intellectual experiences, or both. Jon got an insight of the way the Fears worked, from the inside, and Elias had pointed out in the past that that is apparently his function:
(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…
Jon has now been in contact with all the Fears except The Lonely, getting an internal view of them and how they operated:
* Corruption through Jane Prentiss’s attack (and her written statement).
* Spiral through Michael’s and then Helen’s corridors (and Michael’s live-statement).
* Desolation through Jude Perry burning his hand (and her live-statement).
* Vast through Mike dropping him (and his-statement).
* Hunt through Daisy, then Julia&Trevor, chasing him (and their live-statements).
* Stranger through the Not!Them’s deception, the experience of The Unknowing (and Breekon’s “extracted” statement).
* End through his own almost-death and unwillingness to die, becoming something else instead (and Oliver’s live-statement).
* Slaughter through Melanie’s violent urges (plus the statement she gave of her injuries?).
* Flesh through Jared taking two ribs (and Jared’s live-statement).
* Buried through his rescue attempt in the coffin (no direct avatar here, but a few written statements).
(MAG132) ARCHIVIST: I know…
DAISY: Th–the way out?
ARCHIVIST: No… I know where we are! There isn’t no out, not here. This is… this is forever deep below creation. Where the weight of existence bears down… This is The Buried, and we are alive… There isn’t even an up. … Oh god… What have I done! What have I done…
* Dark through directly staring into the Dark Sun (and Manuela’s live-statement).
* Web through the Leitner as a kid, and Annabelle making him doubts about influences and control (and Annabelle writing her statement for him).
(MAG147, Annabelle Caine) “Unless, of course, none of it was intentional. None of it was planned. The Mother is the fear of manipulation and lost control made manifest. So perhaps it is our fear that projects Her influence on everything that happens. Like the mind, retrospectively assigning reason to our actions, so we fit whatever occurs into the neatest pattern we can, and declare Her web both intricate… and complete. Perhaps She is no more active than Terminus – simply sitting and revelling in the inevitable cascade of paranoia, as those who hold Her in special terror cocoon themselves in red string and theory. Or perhaps I am simply telling you what you need to hear, in order to behave exactly as the Mother wishes you to.”
Still missing The Lonely both as a live-statement and/or statement from an avatar, as a live experience, and as a scar, but now… he’s getting there. (And missing The Extinction, too, which could factor in, but Jonah is probably still following Smirke’s List of Fourteen? Smirke’s architecture was based around the concept.)
But I’m especially curious about the scars in the context of Jonah body-hopping: Robert Smirke had mentioned he feared death, a lot of people had pointed out that Elias tends to avoid getting directly involved, and… that could plainly be a way to avoid the risk of dying himself? And what if what he needed was a body who had physically experienced the Fears…? I’m mostly thinking about it because:
* James Wright was Head of the Institute for 23 years (1973 to 1996); assuming that Jonah had body-hopped right when “Elias Bouchard” became the next Head, that would be 22 years in that body as of now. So might be time to get another one.
* If Jon is meant to be the next host, you Know that Jonny would have a blast voicing Jonah-in-Jon: it would a big challenge voice-acting wise (making a character we used to hear through another VA absolutely identifiable), and also probably a great deal of fun (especially making everyone upset).
* Cursed thought of Unlikely Team during season 5, consisting of Martin (who still thinks that Jon is somewhere there and can be saved), Basira (who is both tracking Daisy and uuuh trying to prevent the apocalypse) and pothead!Elias being back in control of his body (and also uuuh convicted of murders and technically escaped from prison) going after Jonah!Jon. It sounds like if The Eye is attempting its ritual, it’s coming now, but. Lovely thoughts.
(I do subscribe to the idea that the Actual Elias Bouchard might still be somewhere: being stuck and condemned to watch the atrocities committed by Jonah (… he knew about poisoned drinks) sounds like the Most Beholding Thing ever, and there is still the question of how Jonah had been feeding. What if his Fear battery was always within him?)
- Still two episodes, and everything already sounds like The Worst Possible? Martin has been whooshed into The Lonely, while being susceptible to it; Jon opened his inner door and might be drowning; Daisy fell back into The Hunt; Elias is winning and The Eye’s ritual might be on the verge of happening; the Institute has been attacked and there are 4 avatars/monsters fighting inside of it. It might be the worst for Martin to have to deal with the fact that, if Jon is getting lost, it would have been to save him (was it a nice bonus for Elias, as a punishment for Martin’s schemes at the end of season 3…? I’m wondering, because I also feel like Basira is being “punished” through Daisy in a way, and Elias could be petty enough to join utilitarianism and personal grudges: getting Trevor&Julia in at the right time to cause chaos and make Jon panic, and also to force Daisy to snap and make Basira lose her….)
- ;; Elias sounded absolutely in control, so… yeah, we might be losing Jon as we just lost Daisy – but at the same time, if it’s already happening with her, things could go differently for him…? Jon had already gotten out of The Buried, and we still don’t… really know how – we know about elements who contributed, but not how it worked exactly. Was his anchor truly his rib? Was it the statements, through the recordings? Did the fact that Martin had been the one to put them there help? Did the Web lighter help…?
- OKAY, so the knife has been explicitly mentioned, heard… and clearly dropped on the Panopticon floor:
(MAG158) MARTIN: I’m… saying no. I refuse! Game over.
[KNIFE CLATTERING ON THE GROUND]
… So there is a good chance that it’s gonna be put to use: either by Elias on someone (Jon or Martin), eeeeeeeeeeither someone using it on him.
……………… and as much as Violence Is Bad, I really want to hope for Basira, there. It’s around the anniversary of her involvement with the Institute (she went for the worms in the Summer, then gave her first statement to Jon on September 19th, 2016), Elias played with her all through season 4, sending her after dead-end leads to get Jon into the coffin, then pushing her to go with Jon to ~stop The Dark~. She got Daisy back only to lose her again. Sure, she got to punch Elias (and it was a m a z i n g), but… she didn’t manage to achieve anything, to get a “victory” in any way, this season? Stabbing wouldn’t be a good answer, but Basira mostly cared about Daisy, and Daisy is now lost to The Hunt – if killing Elias and/or Jonah’s body means insta-death for all the assistants solely tied to The Eye, that… might be a price she would be ready to pay right now. Although there is still the matter of Daisy (given that she went full Hunt, would she still be killed too?).
(… Also, given how Elias has been very casually sexist/classist recently?
(MAG148) ELIAS: Ah… [HUM] I’ve… always thought that a man’s eating habits were… his own private business.
(MAG158) ELIAS: Oh, you needn’t worry. Two against one? Hm! I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. I just wanted to be here at the end. Can a man not watch his own death?
I really really want him to get backstabbed by a female character that he would have failed to factor in as an actual threat.)
(Other option is that Elias could try to bribe her through the hope of getting Daisy back again and ;; That might be a weakness for Basira, uh…)
- Bonus for Basira: she pointed out that Jonah’s body-hopping could be like Rayner’s. And she directly witnessed Rayner’s death and the weak spot in the action – Rayner was vulnerable when he tried to get into a new body. If Jonah is precisely trying to do that… it could be the right moment to strike (for Basira, Annabelle, Helen…). Grabbing an opportunity on the moment was also her Thing, according to Daisy:
(MAG142) DAISY: When Basira and I were partners, I’d see this happen sometimes. She can read a… situation like no one I know, always seems to know the right move, but for all her research, she never wants to put a plan together. I think she just hates all the unknowns, the… variables. [SIGH] Contingencies. If she spots an advantage, she’ll… grab it, and trust herself to figure out the details as she goes.
- The summaries are usually non-canon but this one, uuuuuh, this one felt Very Specific…
“Case #0182509-A
Original recording of events leading to the disappearances of Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood, Alice Tonner and Peter Lukas.”
* So: still in 2018 (the Institute is still in its 200th year anniversary), but in September. We broke the curse of an assistant dying every Summer, at least? Since it’s Autumn already.
* Side “A”, so next episode could be the B-side…? Or will we get it much, muuuch later…
* Alrrrrrrrrrrrrright so, Jon, Martin and Peter in the Lonely + Daisy is probably not recognisable anymore. That leaves Basira and Elias, but the summary makes it sound like it was written a bit in the future so… Are they not listed because they’re still accessible at this point in time? … Or because their corpses have been found?
Anyway. Another timeskip coming between season 4 and season 5, uh…? ;;
I Don’t Like This Title, but then, every Monday/Tuesday/first part of Wednesday is a variation around that. Could be about The Extinction, could be about Jon completing his “set” with the Lonely (scar and scare-wise); could be about Martin when having the original team in mind; could be about Basira given how we left her at the end of MAG158; could be about The Watcher’s Crown; could be about surprise!Annabelle or surprise!Helen; could be about Jonah getting another body; could be about The Lonely’s ritual; could be about Jon-and-Martin… in any case, sob. I mentioned a few but I don’t even have any conviction/feeling, Fear-wise?
#aND DONE#that's. that's a long one and?? i technically rushed??? and gave up on a few things/*tried* to go quicker??#that episode was Like That.#long post/#tma liveblog#mag158#tma season 4#the magnus archives
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A Future Together
Paring: Javid
Words: 1.6k
Their time together was comprised of stolen moments and filled with forbidden kisses. That did not mean that it felt any less draining to pull away and pretend to be friends until their next rendezvous.
- o -
In which Jack and David share a moment and discuss their future.
“You should leave.”
Jack looked at David, his eyes reflecting the flickering of the candle that sat in the window frame. The tiny flame was the only light on the fire escape. Even the stars and moon had disappeared behind clouds of city smog.
David’s stomach flopped like it always did when Jack gave him that look. “I mean it. Crutchie’ll get worried. You said you’d be back early today. It’s already gone eleven.”
Grinning, Jack just settled himself more comfortably against the railings of the stairwell. “Well, it’s my duty to make sure selling partners get home safe now, ain’t it?”
“We stopped selling together over a year ago,” David reminded him fondly. “Besides, as much as I love your company, won’t the lodging house shut at midnight?” He, too, leant back against the window frame and shifted the candle a little further across so he did not bump it. “As much as I’d love to offer you a place here, the floor is about the only place where there’s still any space.”
Jack laughed softly. “Naw, it’s ‘right. I can just take the fire escape up. Everyone knows ta keep the window open.”
They sat there in contented silence for a while. Slowly, Jack inched his hand closer to David’s until he could tangle their fingers together. David looked and smiled, squeezing Jack’s hand with care.
A sudden gust of wind blew past them, extinguishing the candle.
“Oh, damn.” David pulled his hand out of Jack’s and leant his body into the bedroom to find the matches again. “Not again.”
Jack pulled him back. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Dave. It’s not that dark out.” That was a clear lie – David could barely make out the other side of the street – but he obliged and set the candle inside so the wax would harden without the risk of anyone knocking it over. As trivial as it was, they were always careful to conserve the kerosene and wax as much as possible. It was expensive to replace too often.
“Besides,” Jack said, lowering his voice and shifting closer to David, “It means I can do this.” He took David’s hand and bought it softly to his mouth to kiss it.
David could feel his cheeks burning red. “Don’t, someone might see!”
Jack looked around and laughed under his breath. “In this light? Naw. This escape don’t even lead to a main road. Ain’t no one gonna know.”
“My family’s only a room away and Les is asleep in here!” David gestured towards the room on the other side of the window. “They can’t know, Jack, they can’t.”
Jack gave David’s hand another, lingering kiss. He did not look up as he spoke. “They don’t have ta know, Dave. They ain’t gonna know if youse don’t want ‘em to.” Finally, he raised his head and gazed into David’s eyes. “But, I think they’s lovin’ you too much to get angry.”
David sighed and averted his eyes from Jack’s. His chest felt vaguely sore as if someone had winded him. He stared out at the street, despite being unable to see anything out there. “Do you ever think there could be a time when people like us are accepted?”
“One day?” Jack paused for a moment and ran his thumb over David’s knuckles. “Yeah, I think so. One day we’se gonna be able to live like all the other folks ‘round here. Have our own flat, no funny questions, police won’t care. The whole works.”
That made David smile. It was hard to imagine such a world sometimes. “Maybe, one day, people like us could even get married,” David sighed. It was rare that he even though of marriage; he was only seventeen and it was never something that had appealed to him as a child except for out of a sense of duty to his family. His parents had married when they were just eighteen, though, and that had terrified David when he was younger.
“Can you imagine that?” Jack laughed. “Mr and Mr Jacobs. Or Mr and Mr Kelly, I suppose.”
“Kelly,” David said quickly, “Jack Jacbos just sounds silly.”
Jack exhaled and pressed his shoulder to David’s. “It’ll happen one day,” he said with a smile.
“One day,” David agreed. He rested his head on Jack’s shoulder and let his mind drift from there. It was a content silence that David had come to treasure over the year and a half he had known Jack. The time they got alone together was rare, so David always treasured it, even if it was just them sitting in silence.
It had been over a year since they had started their bizarre version of a courtship. David occasionally tried to remember exactly what had led up to it, but more often than not, he came up blank. The day that Pulitzer had agreed to the new terms had been enough of a whirlwind of emotions as it was. Adding Jack into the occasion just made everything even more blurry.
David remembered a dark alleyway, lots of laughter, hands everywhere, and the most brilliant kiss he had ever had in his life. (Which, admittedly, was not saying much. He had only ever kissed one other boy when he was seven and they thought they were being very clever copying their parents.) A whispered confession and too many secret meetings to count later, and here they were. David did not know if this was love, but he prayed that it was.
“Dawid,” a quiet voice said. David sprung apart from Jack like he had been stung. His mother’s face appeared at the window, completely oblivious to what David and Jack had been talking about just minutes before. “Już czas przyjść do środka.”
“Daj mi chwilę, Mama,” David replied. She nodded and walked back out of the room, smoothing down the covers on the bed and kissing Les’s forehead as she went.
The door closed and David turned back to Jack. “She said I had to go inside now.”
Jack nodded and released his tight hold on David’s hand so that their hands were only brushing. “I should go back to the lodgin’ house then, I guess.”
David swallowed and forced himself to agree. Their time together was comprised of stolen moments and filled with forbidden kisses. They had to end each meeting while they were ahead. That did not mean that it felt any less draining to pull away and pretend to be friends until their next rendezvous.
Leaning forwards, they fell into a gentle kiss. It was like always: warm, chaste and breathtaking. David’s insides felt like they were melting, and he reached one hand to cup Jack’s chin.
It had to end all too soon, though. Jack pulled away and, giving David a smile, stood up. “See you tomorrow?”
David nodded quickly. “Les and I’ll be there for the evening paper.” He stood up as well and his hands
Skimmed over Jack’s. He pressed a final kiss to Jack’s lips and stepped back.
Jack grinned at him. Then, he turned and disappeared down the fire escape. It was dark enough that David soon lost track of where he was, so he clambered back through the window and closed it except for a tiny crack so that people could find him if they needed him.
Absentmindedly, David walked into the main room to wish his parents good night, allowing Sarah to get herself ready for bed, before changing his own clothes and climbing into the bunk next to Les. Mumbling sleepily, Les simply rolled over and allowed David to pull some of the blanket over himself.
Sarah’s breaths soon evened out, but David lay there staring at the ceiling. His mind was still buzzing. He turned restlessly, only to find Les blearily watching at him.
“Go to sleep, Les,” David whispered as quietly as possible.
Les kept looking at him. “You’re thinking too loudly.” David opened his mouth to defend himself, but Les cut him off before he could. “I heard you tonight. Talking with Jack.”
David’s heart stopped beating as his mouth fell open in horror. “Don’t tell anyone what you heard,” he hissed, cheeks burning. “Please, Les, we’ll get in so much trouble.”
“Would you really want to get married to him?” Les completely ignored David’s words. “Like, really really? When you’re older.”
David sighed, but gave up protesting. The damage was done, and it would be easier for everyone if he just let Les cycle through his questions. “I don’t know, maybe,” David hesitated, “I’m only seventeen, Les. That’s pretty young to think about getting married.”
“Mama and Aba got married when they were eighteen,” Les said with no hesitation. “I think you and Jack should get married. Because you’re smart, so you can get a fancy job, and Jack’s really good at art, so he can get a fancy job, too, and then you can get a nice apartment, like you said, and then all the newsies can live with you and so they never have to sleep on the streets again. Don’t you think that’d be good?”
It was so obviously ten-year-old logic that it almost made David want to cry. “Sure, Les. But you know that you can’t tell anyone this, right? We’d get in a lot of trouble.” His body felt tingly and he could not pin down exactly why. Swallowing felt oddly thick.
“I know,” Les murmured, “but it’d still be nice.” He yawned and struggled to keep his eyes open.
David swallowed the lump that had grown in his throat. “Go to sleep, Les.”
Les needed no more encouragement to turn over and fall asleep again. David watched him for a few minutes before screwing his eyes tightly shut. For now, they were trapped on all sides by society, but maybe Les was right. Maybe one day they could have a future.
Update from the author: I still suck at naming fics and I haven’t properly proofread this yet bc I actually need to be writing an IA on the Hungarian Revolution that I haven’t started yet ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Dawid - The Polish version of David
Już czas przyjść do środka - It’s time to come inside
Daj mi chwilę, Mama - Give me a minute, Mama
(If you’ve read any of the other stuff I wrote, you might’ve picked up that I hc the Jacobs were originally from NE Poland and moved to NY in the late 1880s, which - in all seriousness - was historically just after a famine and during a period economic difficulty, persecution of Judaism and a systematic oppression where the Kingdom of Prussia (later the German Empire) and the Russian Empire attempted to systematically eradicate the Polish language during the Partitions of Poland. For that reason, I also imagine that David and Sarah would probably be able to speak a small amount of Russian (which they probably would have stopped using as soon as they left Poland), Polish and Yiddish from growing up in Poland and bc their parents speak both of those languages and enough Hebrew to know and understand traditional prayers, etc., which Les - who I imagine as being born in NY - would speak no Russian, little Hebrew, be self-conscious about his Yiddish/Polish and more comfortable speaking in English).
Idk - if anyone’s interested, maybe I could do a post on the Jacobs family? Let me know if you do want to see one haha
#newsies#newsies live#newsies broadway#newsies '92#canon era#javid#david jacobs#davey jacobs#jack kelly#les jacobs#oneshot#fluff#fanfiction#<3k#<10k#>1k#<5k
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