#I derail so horribly... forgive me for that...

[firebirdsdaughter]

I'm gonna say it…

… Wish they'd just let Wincroft at Adalind.

[ineffable-suffering]

The meaning of "I forgive you"

Alright, hello again, I involuntarily dipped for a bit because real life outside of this lovely Tumblr Good Omens bubble got a little bit stressful, but! I'm back for a quick little post to say that I'm currently reading the script book for Season 1 and seeing this line again, spelled out on paper, just shone some more light on the whole „I forgive you“-scene of Season 2 for me again.

Because really, this first time Az says it to Crowley in front of the bookshop tells us exactly what the second time during the Final Fifteen means.

Aziraphale is not forgiving Crowley for kissing him. Or for using this moment to confess and make things explicit between them.

No, Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not trusting and believing (in) him.

Let's shove the Final Fifteen to the side for a second and look at this scene from Season 1 under the cut.

The situation at hand: The World is ending, with utmost certainty. In addition, Crowley is absolutely f*cked and Hell is out to get him. He tries to apologise for their Bandstand fallout and explain the other two things to Az (poorly, but he tries). Because to Crowley, Armageddon is a done deal already. Wherever the actual Antichrist is, he's gonna come into his power and the World will be wiped out for Heaven and Hell to wage their war on. Also, Hastur is coming to kick his demon ass. Time to dip!

And yet, Aziraphale doesn't want to come with him. He is adamant that he will be able to reach the Almighty, talk to Her and turn this around. Because if Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, thinks there's even the slightest, tiniest morsel of a chance that he can turn things around the right way, he will do it. Even if it sounds ridiculous. Even if it's a lost cause to everyone else. Even if all the other angels gang up on him and (literally) beat him up.

Even if Crowley calls him stupid.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

Because this is what he does. This is what a Guardian does. He stays and protects to ward off the intrusion, until the very last second.

Now listen, I'm the last person to blame Crowley for intrinsically wanting to choose Flight over Fight in this very situation, because Lord knows (literally) what happened to him back when he chose Fight and lost.

But at the same time we have to keep in mind that despite his last name, Aziraphale never Fell. He never made the horrible experience of being chucked away by the one who made you to love Her because you chose to question her ways. And yes, in so many ways this choice of his, to still believe that he can change something by questioning and suggesting (both here and in S2), is utterly maddening and hurtful to Crowley. Because it's a mirror of what Crowley himself did and a reminder of just how big the price he had to pay was. Aziraphale seemingly not realizing or understanding this stings. It does.

And yet.

Yet Aziraphale's choice to not take no for an answer, to not let a punch to the gut derail him from his plan, to not let even the most definitive thing such as Armageddon keep him from fighting back, is the one thing that ends up saving the World.

Because even when it all seems impossible and completely hopeless and bloody Satan himself is erupting from the pits of Hell, ...

... Aziraphale picks up his sword and fights back.

And he wins.

Not without help, of course. But might I remind you of what got Crowley to cooperate and not simply surrender like he'd almost done that second?

You might not see it at first, but tucked in between all the posh hedonism, hidden away underneath that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his, Aziraphale is a fighter. And a good one at that. I mean, for Someone's sake, he got discorporated, beamed himself down back to Earth, found Crowley somehow, possessed a psychic prostitute (love you, Madame Tracy), rode a scooter all the way to Taddfield and fought off Lucifer with sheer willpower (and a bit of emotional coercion).

Aziraphale can fight. Smart and hard. And not only that: He can win, too. And he knows it. Because he believes, truly, firmly and wholly, that he can make things right. It's the only thing he will settle for. This, ladies and gents, this is how he ends up saving the World, together with Crowley, Adam and the rest.

Because he didn't accept no as an answer. He didn't look at the impossible and accept it as such. Even when Crowley thought him to be an idiot for trying and even after his initial attempt at talking to God had failed, Aziraphale still found a way to stop The Big Bad Thing from happening.

Which is exactly what his plan is when he ends up being forced to come back to Heaven by the Metatron. (If you still believe this was a voluntary choice, read here). And which is exactly why he is so hurt and still ends up forgiving Crowley for the fact that Crowley doesn't end up coming with him. Doesn't end up understanding, trusting and believing (in) him, just like all the way back at the end of the World in Season 1.

Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.

[scarlet-streak-rambles]

Honestly, Gale and Astarion's Romance routes feel very Hozier-coded?

For Gale specifically, I'd put Sedated, Cherry Wine, Almost (Sweet Music), Wasteland, Baby!, Francesca, and Who We Are. There's that implicit understanding that Mystra broke him on some fundamental level that he feels like he'll never recover from and, even with that pain, he's still chasing her forgiveness and acceptance because that's where he found worth as a person. However, on top of the literal bomb in his chest, he finds himself with an illithid tadpole in his brain, completely abandoned by his goddess under a SECOND, much faster death sentence. Then he meets the player character who gives him a reason to try to live and love again (even in this horrible, fucked up situation) and find worth in himself beyond Mystra and her gifts. Initially, he feels like he has to treat the player like he would his past lover, specifically when it comes to their physical relationship, but the player can help him past that easily. The echo of that relationship is going to haunt him, probably for the rest of his life, but it isn't the only thing in his life, and he's choosing to love the player even in this hellish apocalypse he's found himself in.

Just a little rush, babe, to feel dizzy To derail the mind of me Just a little hush, babe; my veins are busy But my heart's in atrophy

Her fight and fury is fiery Oh but she loves Like sleep to the freezing Sweet and right and merciful I'm all but washed In the tide of her breathing And it's worth it, it's divine I have this some of the time

You and I burned out our steam Chasing someone else's dream How can somethin' be so much heavier But so much less than what it seems? Darling, we sacrificed We gave our time to somethin' undefined This phantom life sharpens like an image But it sharpens like a knife

I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah I would still be surprised I could find you, darling In any life If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah

The same kind of music haunts her bedroom I'm almost me again, she's almost you

And I love too That love soon might end And be known in it's aching But shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend You are unbreaking Though quaking Though crazy That's wasteland, baby

Astarion gets Take Me To Church, Jackie and Wilson, Someone New, Work Song, Nobody, Talk, First Time, All Things End, and First Light. He spends two hundred years feeling like an inhuman monster, twisted into a tool for Cazador only worth his body and honeyed words. Unlike Gale, Astarion sees the tadpole as a gift, saving him from the life of a slave that he never wants to return to. When he meets the player, he recognizes weakness and repeats that same pattern of securing safety with what Cazador taught him. In the end, the right path for the player to take with him is to teach him that he can be accepted and loved as the mess he sees himself as with worth beyond what Cazador broke him down to, and it's an incredible experience for him. They are the first person he truly cared for besides himself and he'd do anything to stay with them.

Every Sunday's getting more bleak A fresh poison each week "We were born sick", you heard them say it My church offers no absolutes She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom"

Onе bright mornin' goes so easy Darkness always finds you either way It creeps into the corners as the moment fades A voice your body jumps to callin' out your name But after this, I'm never gonna be the same And I am never going back again

Don't take this the wrong way You knew who I was with every step that I ran to you Only blue or black days Electing strange perfections in any stranger I choose

I won't deny I've got in my mind now (Hey, yeah) All the things I would do So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out (Hey, yeah) How I'm imaginin' you

A two-tonne weight around my chest feels like It just dropped a twenty-storey height If there was anyone to ever get through this life With their heart still intact, they didn't do it right

Remember once I told you about How before I heard it from your mouth My name would always hit my ears as such an awful sound? And the soul, if that's what you'd call it Uneasy ally of the body, it felt nameless as a river Undiscovered underground

She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild Laughing away through my feeble disguise No other version of me I would rather be tonight. And, Lord, she found me just in time

Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib And I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived But I swear I thought I dreamed her She never asked me once about the wrong I did When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

[shaniabrown]

Night Shift - Lucy Dacus

Eren x Reader

Synopsis: You caught eren cheating and now you deal with the grief.

The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips against his harder trying to forget. But all it made you do was send you into a coughing fit. Feeling sick for kissing anybody other than Eren.

I mistakenly called them by your name.

“Eren.” You accidentally called out while running your hands through jean’s hair. You could feel Jean pull back in shock. “What did you just call me?” You had no words for your mistake.

I was let down it wasn’t the same.

You felt horrible but Jean couldn’t be Eren and you knew it would never work. You walked out leaving Jean to wonder what he did that made him less than Eren.

I’m doing fine, trying to derail my one track mind. Regaining my self-worth in record time.

It had now been months since you had tried to get back at Eren. You finally felt like you again. But somewhere in the depths of your consciousness lay the thoughts of self hate. Why weren’t you enough for him?

But I can’t help but think of your other in the bed that was mine.

He was probably still with the girl he cheated on you with. Probably loving her more than he claimed to have ever loved you.

Am I a masochist, resisting urges to punch you in the teeth. Call you a bitch and leave.

Eren had asked you out to lunch. They were getting married and he felt some need to make sure you were ok with it. Of course you weren’t. How dare he be happy when you were still trying to get over it? But you didn’t tell him that and just nodded along.

Why did I come here? To sit and watch you stare at your feet? What was the plan? Absolve your guilt and shake hands?

Eren sat right across from you but he hadn’t said a word since asking you for your blessing. What were you doing here? Why did you accept to meet him? He and you were long over and you knew his new girl didn’t care for your blessing.

I feel no need to forgive but I might as well. But let me kiss your lips so I know how it felt. Pay for my coffee and leave before the sun goes down.

You knew the conversation was over before he had even said anything. You stood up and without thinking you pecked him in on the lips. You hurriedly placed down the money for your coffee and rushed out.

Walk for hours in the dark feeling all hell.

You were no better than her. Kissing him like that. What were you thinking? You weren’t, you were too lost in the thought of how she stole him and how he belonged to you. But he didn’t. That was a fantasy.

Thanks for reading sorry it’s kinda bad😭 I just randomly thought of this concept but i lack writing ability 🥲

[escaping-thoughts-reviews]

Hi. I read this post, and while I see your point, I think it's actually the other way around.... Or at least, I think that.

The parents clearly dod not cared about Chloé. As you said, Audry left, and don't even remembers her daughter's name most of the time, and, while Andre provided for Chloe, he possibly never was around either, leaving only Jackue Whateverhisnameis to serve her.

The parents clearly did not done these👆, that's the point. Even Andre, he did not done these; did not helped Chloé discover who she is, kinda protected her, but without care, enabeling her to protect HERSELF, and strangly, I think he did not love her.... I can't recall he would ever huged his daughter, while I remember she huged Ms. Boustie, which (in highsight) is obviously strange...

Let me theorize a bit, I think Andre created Chloe to the image of Audry, as a "Love fixing child" when he felt she is about to leave him (obviously, it didn't worked). He "loved" Chloe, in that sence he loved the part she is like her mother, so he kinda tried to compensate, but since Chloe isn't Audry, he failed hard.

So, all together, I think (at least as I interpreting the story) Yeah, Audry and Andre both deserving what they get, but the main point is to prove what Felix said; when you don't care for your creation the results are just as bad as if you use them.

So yeah, I personally don't feel pity either of the parents, both deserve this, they CAUSED THIS, and I think that's what the story want to say

I agree with what you say, my point was the hypocrisy of the writing. Where Félix, Kagami and Adrien are portrayed as victims and worth saving, Chloé is not given the same treatment (from Astruc especially).

Both Audrey and André are horrible parents (like most in MLB, to be honest). She abandoned her family and abuses her daugther, while André didn’t give Chloé the affection nor the discipline she needed. All he did was throw money at her and enableing her bad behaviour. Bad behaviour she emulated from her mother, the person Cholé wants above else to love her. The other issue is that in the end André, instead of standing up to Audrey’s abuse and save his daughter from her, will denounce Chloé (although he had part in her upbringing) and will abandon her with her abuser. All while the writers paint him as a "strong liberated man". But all they’ll be doing is showing just how much of a coward André is (Chloé is like that also because of him, but he’ll not be held accountable for it) and how they (the writers) are a bunch of hypocrites.

You said the hug between Miss Bustier and Chloé is “strange”, seeing things now, but the reason is that that hug was meant to be the start of Chloé's change. Sadly the story was derailed by Astruc in s3, just because he hates her on a personal level (I know she’s fictional, but the way he talks about her makes you wonder if he knows that).

The hug with Bustier, her apologising multiple times, her relationship with Adrien, Sabrina, Jaques and even her parents show Chloé was not evil to begin with. Adrien tells us she wasn’t like the Chloè we know from s1, but again because of hypocrisy and the hatered of one man against a fictional teenage girl, all of that depth and development was thrown out the window and Chloé was branded as “irredeemably evil”. While characters like Félix (that killed the entire population of Paris and only brought them back because Adrien was mad at him) and Gabriel (we know what he did), will be given forgiveness and redemption by Ladybug (and therefore, by the writers).

That said, I really like the theory that Chloé is also a senti. I wrote something like that a while back, but the issue with that is that neither Audrey nor André have fallen sick like Emilie or Colt (and possibly Kagami's father). And while I do think the sentiChloé theory could save her character, I doubt they would go for it, since Astruc hates the character and openly mocks her fans.

[worstygocharacter]

I have two submissions: Hideo Izayoi (or Mr Izinski, whatever his name is, Akiza's dad) from 5Ds and Kiyoshi Kogami.from VRAINS and for basically the same reason: they're horrible fathers. Kiyoshi at least gets called out by the narrative to some extent but Ryoken never stops following his father's orders, even after death, which leaves Ryoken's character arc incomplete. Not to mention that while the extent of Kiyoshi's neglect/abuse of his son is never covered, the fact that Ryoken was willing to sacrifice himself and everyone he loves to fulfill his father's wishes with the Tower of Hanoi implies it was pretty awful. Kiyoshi is also just horribly stupid and this stupidity is the entire catalyst of VRAINS so he's extremely frustrating. Oh yeah, and he tortured six year olds for months on end.

And Akiza's father single-handedly derailed Akiza's entire character arc by turning it into "oh she just needs to forgive her abusers because they said sorry D:" That is not how that works. She shouldn't have pushed by the narrative or Yusei to forgive someone who explicitly neglected and abused her. I don't care how sorry he acted. She wasn't obligated to forgive him and the fact that the narrative pushes her to do so in order to heal sickens me. I know that's the writing but I wholly pin all this blame on Akiza's father. (This whole thing is slightly less horrible in the dub but only slightly. It's still an incredibly harmful message.)

both added!

[mybrainproblems]

every day i see Takes and i am being so goddamn brave right now

ppl really need to be taking into account that their watch/rewatch is taking them through material that is 5, 10, 15+ years old and some of that comes with "period typical" warnings. and "period typical" means that some of these creatives have demonstrated in meatspace they've grown and changed. and when you contextualize it in its own time period and look at contemporary media, spn is pretty par for the course and up against shows like house md (which is a trash fire of bigotry) it's not even that bad. bc the thing is that spn has always, from the pilot, had a beating bleeding heart on its sleeve. its missteps are bad and i'm not excusing that, but spn's issues with racism and misogyny rarely feel like they're coming from a conscious place. (except gamble who has major "white woman who crosses the street to avoid a black man" vibes. tho, charmyder and some others seem pretty cozy about their prejudices too and did not show much growth.)

and while i don't think that unconscious and unexamined bias merits forgiveness... i look at house md (which has a substantial fandom overlap) and see how it makes the conscious choice to take the most offensive route possible at every point. to constantly make racist, sexist and misogynistic jokes. to make plotlines out of acephobia and transphobia being totally okay and justified. and somehow THAT gets a pass from hypercritical ppl overlapping from spn fandom? tbh i'm pretty disgusted with that aspect of the fandom.

that's a bit of a derail from what i'm trying to say here but it's exhausting! and it shows just how performative some ppl's criticism of spn is. parroting that something is Problematique™ without actually looking at it yourself and trying to understand it in the context of when it was written and aired, and not putting in the work to consider the impact of that makes it difficult to actually understand what the show was saying and why certain things happened the way that they did. which fucking again, is not me excusing it (i feel like this is gonna get a "how dare you piss on the poor" response if i don't keep saying this), but spn was such a long running show that context is needed to do a reparative reading and accurately and adequately critique the show's issues.

it's so easy to write off kripke and some of the other writers based on their early writing on spn (and some of it is horrible), but then you look at what they've done since then and you can see them grow and change and also see that they've gained the skill needed to approach things with nuance that they were not capable of with spn. a lot of them experienced growth both as humans and writers and i really wish ppl would actually look at that vs just saying "this is awful and i'm going to gnash my teeth about how awful it is and have a bad time engaging with something that sparks no joy."

if you cannot put in the work to critique spn accurately and accept its faults and recognize that it is of its era and creatives who worked on it have grown then i just don't know what to tell you.

maybe just find a different fandom.

[thewomanwithamessedupmind]

I hope you'll forgive the amount but I know you love me. 6, 26, 33, 35, 37, 38, 40, 52, 54, 57, 62, 65, 70.

6. How do you want to die?

Peacefully in my sleep. I don't want it to be painful.

26. What are you craving right now?

Nothing really. Hmm... maybe tuna helper. Yeah. Tuna helper.

33. Do you have trust issues?

Not really. It just depends on the person. If I know you're untrustworthy, then yes. I have trust issues with you.

35. Who was the last person you cried on front of?

My manager because I had a killer headache and didn't feel good. I don't normally cry in front of anyone. I like to keep it to myself.

37. Is it easier to forgive or forget?

Forgive. I will never forget that someone has done me wrong. But I can forgive them for it. I just trust them less because of that.

38. Is this year the best year of your life?

Idk. It only just started.

40. Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

Yes. We used to have to bathe using the water hose when I was little. That's when we had no power.

52. Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Yes and no. Life just feels like a roller-coaster there you can't seem to stop or get off of. It's got bumps and grooves in the tracks but never derails. Yet, it can be cruel for no reason. So, some things do happen for reasons while others are just to make it difficult.

54. Is cheating okay?

Hell no. If you want to be with someone else, dump the other. There's no reason to stay I'd you aren't going to be honest. Plus, what if the person you're cheating with has am STD and you give it to the person you're actually with? That's not something to play around with. So, no. Cheating is horrible and extremely wrong.

57. Do you believe in true love?

Yes. True love is when you can always be yourself around the person you like and accept each other without judging one another. That's true love to me.

62. What makes you happy?

A lot of things. My hobbies, baby animals, animals in general, my fiancé, my family, food, going out sometimes. Many different things.

65. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

If I don't feel the same way, I'd politely and gently decline them. Maybe even apologize a few times. Then, I'd buy them something to eat. If I like them back, I'll immediately tell them and we could be happy together.

70. Is there anyone you would die for?

No doubt about it.

[vindlcated]

MUSE INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Sabine Lou Dunbar

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: Nancy Beyers & Max Mayfield (Stranger Things), Allison Argent (Teen Wolf), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Rosalie Hale (Twilight), Donna Pinciotti (That 70s Show), Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer), Pam Beasley (The Office), Bonnie Bennett (The Vampire Diaries), Rosita Espanoza (The Walking Dead), Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

FACE CLAIM: Brittany O’Grady

GENDER: She/her, cis woman

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

BIRTHDAY: December 13th, 1996

AGE:  26

SPECIES: Familiar

FAMILIAR FORM: a white tiger

OCCUPATION: Veterinary Student at the university & works at a local pet store doing retail, but volunteers at shelters once a week.

LIVES IN: Tsavo

CW: Death, Implications of Mental Illness & Abuse

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

❝ this truth drives me into madness. i know i can stop the pain if i will it all away, if i will it all away ❞ Whisper by Evanescence

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

PERSONALITY TRAITS

Positive: Perceptive  ◇ Studious  ◇ Warm ◇ Honest Negative: Withdrawn ◇ Distrustful  ◇ Impulsive ◇ Rebellious 

INTEL

Their Priorities: Stay alive, keep to herself. The less people she lets in, the less chance she has to get hurt.

Muse’s soft spot: Animals of all kinds :/ also children and people who sincerely need dire help

Greatest strength: Sabine has been through it and is very self-sufficient when it comes to the way she lives. Keeps pushing forward and refuses to let her problems derail her.

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: She doesn’t let a lot of people in, which means she’s never really had anyone to talk to about what she’s been through. She needs a therapist and a good, trustworthy friend.

Muse’s secret: Girlie accidentally killed her parents by killing the witches they were bonded to, thinking they’d be safe from a counterfeit charm.

Hobbies: Reading, dancing, running track, binging anime, eating any form of potato, going to the library, being with animals of all kinds, learning, and being safe. Things they love: Animals! So much. She also loves the library a lot. It’s her favorite place next to school. Loves school. She also loves dancing but will never dance with anyone nor show anyone her dances. Sabine has a talent for dancing dances that are older than her and modern dances, and has an eclectic music taste because of it. Pet Peeves: People trying to get to know her like bye please do not, people making light of the disappearances going around, people literally being assholes for the sake of being an asshole.

IT IS LIKE 2 am almost so here’s we go. Sabine was born to familiar parents. Her parents were bound to witch siblings that at first showed promise of a wonderful relationship until things changed. Her parents were mistreated and used, and managed to escape for away together. They had Sabine, though the years of being familiars to the witches took a toll on them. Sometimes her parents weren’t okay, clearly affected by what they’d been through with such horrible witches. It seemed to get worse despite being away from the witches for years, and Sabine as she grew older only wished for it all to stop. So, searching for a charm that promised to keep familiars alive despite their bonded witches dying, she was determined to kill the witches and set her parents free from the turmoil. Alas, despite Sabine hunting down the witch siblings and killing them, it turned out that the charm was counterfeit and unfortunately did not protet her parents from their fate. She had killed them, in hopes of saving them from their internal suffering.

Sabine was eighteen when it happened. She was forever changed. She feared witches, felt distrustful towards them, and begged every night for her parents to forgive her if they could at all hear her. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to get on her feet. She moved to the Tsavo neighborhood of Los Santos, unable to afford the place in Sycamore Hills. Though lately it’s been hard, and she’s been working nonstop just to make ends meet, as she’s been stubborn about getting a roommate due to her distrust. But, she’s getting desperate and may have to cave.

At the moment, she works at a local pet store and volunteers at an animal shelter. She also attends university, vet school to be exact. She’s extremely professional, polite, and warm when at work. A lot of coworkers like her! But she always turns down any hangouts offerred and goes home. Though the loneliness can be suffocating, Sabine knows it’s safest for now... but, well, she figures things might change soon considering she needs a roommate and things are getting weird in Los Santos.

MUSE AESTHETICS  Cozy coffee and books with the long sleeves for sure, being super happy with dogs and cats all over her, a cozy fort for one in front of a tv while she rewatches the office some more, or some other show, and some suspicious smoke wafting around.

CONNECTIONS ◇ ESTABLISHED: NONE! I NEED SOME

WANTED: Roomie! At the moment, Sabine needs a roomie even though she’s been reluctant this entire time to get one. But, shit’s expensive! She’s giving in and looking for a roomie which means, yes, having to go out and socialize and meet people. Weed Dealer: Girlie oes smoke. Helps her sleep. Helps her relax. ‘Cause she’s always anxious honestly.  Potential friends: I have to say potential ‘cause she’s so stubborn about having any close friends but IIII would very much like her to have a close friend or more. This includes acquaintances she sees, maybe professors, other students, or workers in the city because she’s just mature enough to have a conversation with anyone—and if she talks to you more than once on her own accord, it’s a great sign. Maybe the worst person ever?: It’d be interesting for her to meet someone who seems promising and while shes always on her guard when meeting people and letting people in, how wild would it be if she met someone who was lying amnd manipulating her? For some pain Hookups: No doubt she’s had hookups. It’s purely physical. Which, some hookups don’t really get too much because they get attached and Sabine does the most to not get attached (she craves connection, I swear, she is just scared). Anyone who may want a helllla bond with her bc she’s never bonded with anyone!: Witch or otherwise. This would have be a longggg road due to all her trust issues and walls put up but it’d be so nice :/ 

[lairofsentinel]

I love your BG3 analysis posts and wanted to get your insight into one of Gale's lines. On point 21 you discuss his 'doubt' lines. There's another line that I find similar / fitting: if the main char tells Gale they think their night together was a mistake then he says something like "Let me clear your mind of doubts: it absolutely wasn't." He doesn't discuss the 'why' of it - or express he's disappointed but accepts their choice. He tries to discourage that line of thinking outright. Thoughts?

Hey, hello! Thanks for reading those big posts. :D

[Baldur’s Gate 3 Early Access Spoilers]

For those who don't know what those numbers mean: [Gale in 27 points or more]

Yeah, in (21) I found curious that he just says "doubt is a spoilsport" in another desperate attempt to make the MC stop thinking about it, and go for him already. Yes, you are right. The other line afterwards, when the MC shows doubts again about the whole night, he desperately tries to cast them aside. Again! They are like attempts of "no, no, dear, stop thinking right there. We are not a mistake, we are just we. Stop thinking. I don't care if I encourage questioning in general. On this matter, question not" XD

Which I found hilarious in comparison with his personality which is ALL the time in his mode "we need to doubt about everything", because well, that's a scholar. Scholars tend to be better at questioning than knowing things most of the time. This shows once more that he is desperate to stay with the MC, so far. I want to believe that there are not more hidden secrets, or ill-intended motives coming from him.

His mental state by the time he meets the MC is quite a mess. If you think that since too young he was abandoned by Mystra with that orb of Netherese devastation stuck in his chest... we can assume that there is a high chance for him to have been alone ever since. The quest in saving himself from that bomb probably prevented him to use time and energy in relationships (like I say in (15)), and by (12) we know he feels deadly alone. Especially if we take his description of how the bomb makes him feel, which is an increasing terror the longer he stays without consuming artefacts.

If you fail in that conversation of the Loss scene, when you insist about what he lost, he will push the MC away and will say something like "I'm strong enough to keep on". But we know that by the end of that night (or after the party in case MC did not romance him), he will say it anyway. He will talk about Mystra abandonment.  He can't hold it anymore. He needs to share the burden and find someone to trust. Which will be the MC, as a friend or a lover.

I still think about the mind-shocking impact that the Weave scene caused him. It's not only what he states, his mindset has been focused on solving his bomb condition for too long. Relationships have been out of question for a while (15).  And then, he has this Weave moment with the MC showing him their romantic interest; it not only took him by surprise, it caught him quite vulnerable too (too much feeling of loneliness and fear and despair plus the tadpoles looming danger), so the event had a stronger effect than he lets show in that moment. We know he thinks about that event the following days in between the Weave scene and the party, and apparently, that makes a click in him.

As I said, he is desperate for the MC who shared that magic moment of the Weave. Magic is his life, as he said, and sharing it with someone who has supported him and giving him their trust, it moves the ground he is walking on.

He is a char that, when a chance appears, he doesn't want to let is waste. And that romantic scene in the weave was a completely unexpected chance happening in front of him. Serendipity, as he said. (I don't know if by choosing the last option, the one in which you imagine nothing, Gale will want something anyway. I have to explore that.) (** I already explored this [here] **)

In sum, the concept here is that, as a scholar, he is into doubts and questioning all what you want. He will encourage such attitude in the MC. Except when it comes to question his emotions for the MC and their night together. Because questioning them, may cause abandon him. We also need to remember he was abandoned. Abandonment issues must to be added to his psychological profile. It was probably this issue the one that made him wait to the last moment before saying the truth. Because he is all about consent and let people know the truth, but he freaked out at the thought that maybe that truth could mean a second abandonment. That fear is there even if the MC did not romance him. He reached to a point in his life where loneliness, the bomb, and the tadpole became too heavy to deal with alone anymore. He needs the MC. And needs to be sure that they won't abandon him. That's why Gale ends up doing that rotten move of saying the truth only after sleeping with the romanced MC and after all that speech of the book of Anm: through intimacy he wanted to have a deeper link with the MC in order to prevent the abandonment. This is why he says “after all what we passed through, after the night we spent together”. He wants the MC baaaadly. And he  wants not to be abandoned again. You see him bending and breaking his usual philosophy just to avoid abandonment. That's... a bit dangerous.

Once more it gives me the feeling that Gale is a nice mature character, who knows where he walks as long as we are not in the emotional ground. Emotional-wise... seems that Gale has pretty bad experiences, filled with over-idealised situations (Mystra) or over-darkened by misery (his bomb condition and now the tadpole) and in the back of all that there is a constant abandonment issue that may make some situations quite... complicated.

Asking for middle reactions to Gale on these matters seems to be a bit too much for his char. XD This is why I like to joke that he is basically proposing the MC right there... I mean, the book of Anm speech? If you choose “hey Gale, we are not newlywed (stressing that fact), but newly acquainted”, he gives a shit to the definitions of the words (the scholar, uh), he says “let's write the prequel”. One can interpret it like... he is assuming he and the MC are walking that path through and through. He is riiight heading into marriage. Lol. I personally would not like this kind of chars, but I make my exception here because, at least, Gale has a solid reason to be this way: he may die at any moment.

This kind of soft emotional instability char may be a dangerous compound in Larian's hands. You see, Larian in DOS2 offered romances that clearly were not going to last after the ending of the game; and you had hints of that pretty early in the game: one companion was married looking for their spouse, and another was betrothed, and had a fling with the MC meanwhile, if you want to. Another companion you can romance, simply disappears later by the end of the game. So... Larian... is not Bioware. Having a man like Gale that can break or bend his usual philosophy and his morals to a certain degree when it comes to matters of the heart.... well... it's dangerous, to say the least.

I fear Mystra appearing, and telling him that she abandoned him not because she wanted to, but because the netherese orb put her in danger (a logical reason that Gale could accept without problems no matter how much he suffered because of it, check (4),(14) and (20) ). And if Gale gets rid of that orb, and Mystra asks him to be his Chosen One “with benefits” once more (lol)... I'm not so sure if he will not abandon the MC. Unless the MC accepts a polyamory relationship (with a goddess? XD), because I totally see Gale has no issues with Mystra or MC having lovers besides him. 

Magic is his life, and he longs a lot the powers granted by the title of the Chosen One. And Mystra's affections are where the true magical power lays (Gale's own words). So.... yes. Dangerous.

Ah, damn... I derailed again. Sorry.

More content of bg3 in general [here]

[polyghostfacehours]

Scream 5 Asks Compilation

⚠‼SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT‼⚠

There is one Scream 5 ask I didn't include, bc it was a request about some characters' reactions to something that happens in the movie, so it will be in a separate spoiler post.

LMAO Yeah, his house did feel more like a character than he did. Honestly, I have a lot to say about Richie and Amber, and I'll definitely delve into them in a later post, but I didn't feel like they were trying to be Billy and Stu? They felt more of a combination of Jill, Charlie, and Mickey and Stu between their motives and how they acted.

I loved Amber though, and I felt she was a phenomenal expy of Stu. She really went apeshit in the climax, and I loved it! And yeah, Richie I loooooved seeing get absolutely rekt by Sam!

Yeah, going by the timeline established, with Sam being born in 1996, Billy 1000% cheated on Sid with Christina (Sam's mom's name) while he and Sid were together. Assuming Scream happened somewhere between October and December 1996, and Sam is born IN 1996, he must've done it shortly before or after he killed Maureen Prescott, since he did that a year ago exactly from when Scream happened.

He is an absolute fuckboi lmaooo. He stopped getting it from Sid, so he fucked Christina and whiteout a condom too. I can absolutely seeing him going "It won't feel as good with one." or some bullshit. Can't imagine sex ed. in Woodsboro explained how high the chances of pregnancy are, or even exists.

OKAY BITCH BUT ME TOOO LMAOOO. As a certified Billy lover (duh), I like to headcanon that it was just a one night stand that he knew he could get out of Christina since she was in love with him. Better than him being secretly in a relationship with her.

Then again, even if they did establish that it was a secret relationship, I still would continue writing Billy x Reader's/hc that Billy and Stu were together and had the REAL secret relationship/ that poly ghostface exists. I like to think Billy is just an evil bisexual who wasn't just sleeping with women, but also Stu and had real feelings loooool.

I will proudly ignore canon when it suits me 😤.

As much as I'd love that, I think it's a stretch and grasping for straws at his point. Between Billy being confirmed to be having sex with someone that isn't Stu, and Kevin Williamson both being heavily involved as well as being the producer + the recent interview with pride source he did basically saying "OoOoOo its up to speculation 😱" and straight up confirming it wasnt his intention when writing...I've just kinda accepted it. But like I said, canon means shit to me, and I will continue to write and ship as I see fit.

I do hope it's an actual ghost and not a hallucination, and latching on to the whole "Those meds aren't helping as well as they used to huh Sam?" line from Billy to support it. BUT I know in my heart of hearts it's probs not true, and he really is just a hallucination from Sam lol.

ALSO YES, ANOTHER REASON TO HC GHOST!BILLY. God, Dewey watching over them. Dewey REUNITING with Tatum. Billy REUNITING WITH STUUUUU. AAAHHHHHH.

But god, imagine Dewey watching over Gale. Finally leaving Woodsboro and following her, watching Gale fall in love with someone else, have kids, be happy. And it's bittersweet for Dewey, bc he loves seeing her happy, but HE wanted to be the man to do so. So he watches over Sidney and Gale, along with Tatum.

NAUR BUT YES. I love 3rd Planet, I havent heard it in yeeeears tho, so thank you for reminding me it exists! And forgive me for derailing but

Broke: 3rd Planet is about a miscarriage or religion.

Woke: 3rd Planet is about Sidney and Gale moving on without Dewey

Bespoke: 3rd Planet is about poly Ghostface where one of the three dies.

Billy: I see the baby cum angels 😞

ghost Stu or ghost Y/N: wtf

I was never the biggest Dewey stan, but his death literally destroyed me for awhile. Like, it felt like a favorite uncle passing away, I didn't even tear up, I just had that horrible pit in my stomach when it happened. I was so genuinely upset even though I KNEW it was coming bc of the leak I read. Just seeing HOW it happened, and after Dewey reunited with Gale when we had seen him watching Gale on TV and smiling? I fucking...man. It hurt.

Ooooh, interesting choice! While I feel parts of the song definitely fit Dewey in regards to Sid, I wouldn't normally associate it with them. Mainly bc I feel like there was never a point in time where Dewey envied or felt competitive with Sid, which is a big component of the song.

[usernamesuggestionsarefunny]

What would you think if the scene in which Judas hangs himself was intercut with the scene in which Jesus says, "Today, you will be with me in paradise!"?

While I would not completely hate the idea, I bet my eternal-damnation-believing Christian mutuals would absolutely despise it, probably, I don´t know, lol ;)

I also feel like that editing choice would send the message that what Judas did wasn´t wrong (And therefore there would be no accountability) because "God´s ineffable plan" or something, which I would have a problem with, because canonically Judas didn´t do it on Jesus´s orders or because he knew it was his role to play or something like that, he sold his friend out of greed (And maybe he had other reasons to add to that, but whatever it was we know there was no excuse) and probably knew he was going to be killed.  

 That doesn´t mean I vibe with the prevailing given, almost "canon" belief that Judas is in hell, far from it (Maybe they could instead add a scene of the disciples finding Judas´s body and giving him a proper burial? Or even Jesus asking the reluctant disciples to do it, with some dialogue here and there leaving the door open for some hope?) 

Btw, I find the idea of suicide (Or not expressing remorse the “right” or “pretty” way) being a crime worthy of eternal conscious torment to be repugnant. Because the fact Judas showed remorse is something that is often forgotten just because maybe he felt almost too sorry, he threw the coins away (he didn´t reap any benefits from his wicked deed), he awknowledged he had betrayed innocent blood, he looked at what he had done and thought himself not worthy of living, how is that not remorse? Oh, yeah, technically he didn´t “repent” in the sense that he didn´t ask for forgiveness, maybe because he didn´t feel worthy of it and his human mind couldn´t comprehend a love strong enough to forgive what he had done (Which only shows how remorseful he actually felt), but guess what? He was right. According to many Christians, Judas was indeed right: Not even divine love was capable of forgiving him, it is just that what made him unworthy of forgiveness was not betraying his friend in the most despicable of ways, but having an actual conscience and feeling like shit for doing so, just missing the mark on how to express his regret, maybe feeling socially anxious about asking for forgiveness, scared about the reactions of Jesus and the other disciples, maybe he didn´t even know for sure Jesus would return and he would be able to ask for it, the other disciples sure disbelieved at first, so who actually knows? Maybe he thought he had actually killed Jesus forever. So yes, I find the most popular takes on Judas´s fate extremely unfair, no matter how grounded on the Bible they are. 

 It is almost like, in Christian circles, being mentally ill (Because you can´t tell me it is impossible that Judas had other mental issues already) and “despairing” (As Catholics say) or committing suicide plain and simple is worse than telling a bunch of government officials known for torturing people to death where the innocent man they are looking for is.

“But usernamesuggestionsarefunny...” you say, “Simon did something as horrible and he didn´t kill himself, Judas should have...” Let me stop you right there.

Denying your friend because you are probably afraid of a potentially dangerous mob is cowardly yes, but nowhere near willingly going to the people looking for him (Need I remind you Judas was not approached? That HE went to the Pharisees?) and selling him. It is possible Judas saw the beginnings of the results of his own actions (Jesus being beaten, etc.), he had more reasons to feel terrible about himself. But even if Simon and Judas´s actions were equal (Or you are going by “all sin is equal”, which is valid), everyone reacts to trauma differently (And yes, only by taking out the human element can we ignore that night must have been extremely traumatizing for all the disciples, including Judas, the idea of betraying someone and reaping the benefits must have been wildly different from learning about the real, actual consequences as they were happening).  I wouldn´t blame anyone having gone through such trauma, learning or maybe even witnessing a close friend being or about to be tortured and knowing your played a part in it, for killing themselves. I mean, panic, anxiety, avoidance, intrusive thoughts, feeling the event hasn´t ended, not wanting to connect with others are natural responses to trauma, is it any wonder “I am going to ask for forgiveness and then everything will be fine” was not everyone´s reaction after the events? It is more rational, yes, but not everyone reacts to an upsetting event like that.

The human brain is unpredictable, each individual experience is unique and I am going to stop right there because I am not a mental health professional and there are people who can explain that better. 

But of course, I can´t change what is in the text, I can only be honest with myself admit I will always have issues with it. 

Anyways, I equally despise both “Judas is in hell being tortured right now and will be for eternity for a finite crime he clearly regretted and that is perfectly fine, dandy and fair by me, too bad you were suicidal (boo hoo), good luck next time... oops there is no second chances sorry” and “Judas is an innocent baby cinnamon roll that did notin wrong predetermuunation made him do it uwu” takes I often find. 

I derailed and wrote an essay it seems, sorry. I don´t actually know what they will imply (Or  if they will even imply anything about Judas´s fate on the show). I would prefer for them to leave it open to interpretation, as it can be said by some it is left open in the Bible, although there are verses some take as proof Judas is damned, I wouldn´t actually know, all I know is I find it unfair and you can´t change my mind about it. The punishment doesn´t fit the crime, especially when most Christins admit Judas could have been forgiven for the crime he is known for and that his actual “punishable offence” was despair (*cough* not reacting to trauma the “right” way *cough* suicide *cough*).

[big-oof-bi-goof]

So there’s this meme going around with TMA fans, the whole “hello Jon” thing, but it kind of disappoints me. We, as a fandom, are capable of more. We can do better than this. We just need to Hello Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all hose years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

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

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

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

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and leads and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

[c0rpsedemon]

i am curious, as someone who’s only exposure to arthurania was reading jane yolen’s young merlin as a child, would you mind saying why hnoc is a bad adaptation? i’m super curious but no worries if not <3

this has been sitting in my inbox for months bc i kept telling myself i needed to write a full essay with proof from medieval lit to make myself feel smarter.  however, since i’ve recently lost all credibility bc i can’t articulate points to save my life, and since i’ve realized that i could answer this in a just a couple paragraphs, now seems like the right time to answer this ask. sorry for the wait.

under a cut bc length

also warnings for mentions of racism bc this is hnoc we're talking abt and sexual assault bc this is med lit we're also talking abt

the basic problems are pendragon polycule itself, the story beats of the album, the fridging and lack of characterization of morgan le fay, the clear influence of pop culture arthuriana, and whatever the fuck happened with gawain/e.

pendragon polycule is... just not a good take.  there’s a bit in the lancelot-grail abt arthur viewing lancelot like a son (and lancelot not giving a shit abt him).  also arthur knew his parents for years before lancelot was even born.  plus lancelot just Doesn’t care abt him and i can’t stress this part enough.  arthur repeatedly tries to have guinnevere killed, mostly in the lancelot-grail, and guinn didn’t really have any say in marrying him bc she was a teenager.  lancelot and guinnevere is a lot better but that’s not saying much.  guinn doesn’t exactly treat lancelot too well... like at all, BUT it’s not intrinsic to their relationship and is completely caused by medieval misogyny and i’m all in favor of modern retellings saying fuck that.  but also lancelot has multiple pseudo-canon boyfriends (this is med lit after all), and one pseudo-canon husband so like... there were better options.  (also lancelot’s husband is basically in a lavender marriage with guinnevere’s maybe girlfriend who most authors just eventually forget abt as the story progresses).

this next one is a problem with a lot of modern arthurian works bc the inclusion of elayne of astolat is too much to ask apparently.  the grail quest isn’t tied to the fall of camelot, it just happens to be one of the last grand adventures the knights of the round table have.  the event that traditionally sets off the fall is the death of the maiden of astolat/the lady of shalott/elayne of escolat/she has a lot of names, her story has a few variations but usually she either is cursed to stay in a tower and weave and only be able to see the outside world through a mirror positioned across from her window, until lancelot rides by and she rushes to see him out of the actual window and her mirror shatters, setting off her death, or she lives with her father and brothers and takes care of lancelot bc he was injured for a time and she gets to go on adventures to find him and she’s friends with gawaine and she dies bc lancelot rejects her and this version’s a lot more fun but also more happens which makes it harder to explain.  the way her story ends however, is that she dies after she makes arrangements for a glorious boat to drift from astolat to camelot carrying nothing but her dead body and a letter explaining that she died of love for lancelot du lac and the court mourns the death of such a beautiful and young maiden (her age varies a lot but i’ve always read her as a young teenager at most).  but the important thing is, camelot is doomed from the moment she washes up on its shore bc she’s an omen of the end and has symbolic meaning and all that, the maiden of astolat washes up on camelot’s shores, the court mourns the loss of a maiden in her prime and she marks the end of camelot’s prime as well, morgan le fay reappears after being presumed dead and warns arthur of guinnevere and lancelot’s affair, aggravaine and modred conspire to bring lancelot and guinnevere’s affair to light, they succeed but lancelot escapes, guinnevere is to be burnt at the stake and lancelot rescues her, killing aggravaine, gaheris and gareth (gawaine’s brothers) in the process, gawaine drags his uncle and camelot to war bc he was driven mad due to the loss of his brothers, lancelot accidentally kills gawaine, his best friend and maybe boyfriend (i have RECEIPTS), and gawaine forgives him on his detahbed while lancelot and guinn rejoin arthur, meanwhile modred, who practically had the throne handed to him, usurps and invites the saxons in, camlann happens, and camelot is destroyed.  no where in there is the grail quest.

morgan le fay is honestly the most questionable part of the album bc there’s not a single text where she dies.  like....  at least with eurydice in udad she died in the original... there’s no basis for morgan dying.  also she is NOT modred’s mother and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar, she interacts with him once in the vulgate bc she had three of her nephews over and that’s IT.  it’s a horrible take which originated in the mists of avalon by marion zimmer bradley who is an honest to god monster for reasons i don’t want to trigger tag this post for.  also she’s one of the most dynamic and thought-out characters in the entire canon and they just made her a watered down morgause (modred’s actual mother, morgan’s sister, canonical milf)... there was no reason for it to be her apart from the fact that she’s more well known......

pop culture arthuriana is,,, one of my least favorite things.  no, morgan wasn’t modred’s mother, no, morgause wasn’t abusive but her husband sure was implied to be, no, aggravaine didn’t kill his mother, that was gaheris, he loved his mother, you’re only saying that bc he has a reputation as the “evil” orkney, no, the once and future king is not a good descriptor for arthur, stop making me read it, no, morgause wasn’t the one to initiate the thing with arthur resulting in modred, no, lancelot and arthur weren’t friends, no, tristan wasn’t a self-centered asshole, tennyson is a fucking liar, no, galahad didn’t have sex or want to, he’s one of the first ever explicitly asexual characters out there, no, galahad’s conception was NOT consensual, lancelot was tricked, and no, elayne of astolat wasn’t galahad’s mother, she’s implied to be younger than him.  those are just the big glaring ones, but i swear it’s bc of arthuriana’s reputation as a mythology and the connotations belonging to that word (no one true canon (which is true but there are still things that just AREN’T canon, not completely written down, passed by oral tradition) that causes ppl to see mediocre modern texts and go “oh. well this is abt as close to the original as i’m going to get” and don’t bother to look into so much as malory (who i only name bc he’s one of the most well known medieval authors with the most commonly used storylines, don’t read malory kids, he’s a mediocre-at-best writer even by medieval standards).  the big perpetrators of modern arthurian tropes are the books the once and future king by th wh*te, who is a shitty person and lets it bleed into his writing (which isn’t like... nice to read or anything, seriously why do ppl love this book so much it doesn’t have redeeming qualities), and the mists of avalon by marion zimmer bradley (it’s poorly written, the story is a mess, and mzb is honestly a monster and one google search will tell you that), and unfortunately the writings of tennyson, which are mostly good but he clearly didn’t read the povest (a later text that’s also my favorite, known for significantly improving ppl’s opinions on tristan, isolde and co.) before deciding he hated both tristan and isolde and he has HORRIBLE takes on them.  high noon over camelot is SEEPED in pop culture arthuriana and i think it would have been so much better if the band had read so much as a SUMMARY of the events of le morte.  it’s evident in the song “the once and future king” bc it’s,,,, literally named after one of the worst books in existence.  it’s shown in the morgan le fay thing, and it’s shown in the pendragon polycule thing.  and hell, i think you can even explain away the lack of elayne of astolat with pop culture arthuriana, bc ppl have had bad takes on her ever since th wh*te combined her character with that of ela*ne of corbenic, and the band probably went “huh, let’s write lancelot’s abuser out of this” and they would’ve been right to do so if that’s who elayne of astolat was.

the final big issue is gawaine, the closest thing the genre has to a protagonist, he’s pretty much canon bi and, in some texts, arospec, he’s a dashing knight of great reknown and he derails every romance to steal hearts, commit murder, and make out with every knight and lady mentioned.  and in hnoc he’s... racist.  that’s it.  it’s,,, almost completely unfounded by the arthurian canon and shows a major misunderstanding of his motivations (like i said earlier, he wants to avenge his brothers bc there’s a reoccuring motif of how much the orkneys value family).  i say almost bc in one text it’s his motivations for killing palomydes but i’ve never heard it mentioned by name bc that’s just what it’s known for.  most arthuriana fans just look away from it except when critiquing hnoc but that one text is an outlier, shouldn’t be counted, and i highly doubt the mechs made hnoc gawain how he is bc they found this text.  it’s just a bad text.

hnoc has,,, quite a few more minor issues, such as villainized ladies of the lake (their ONLY crimes were sealing away merlin bc he tried to assault teenage nimue/ninniane (proto-nimue/vivianne from the vulgate), and that one time vivviane/ninniane kidnapped adopted baby lancelot), assigning brain to merlin (y’know,,, the predator who helped arrange the [redacted] of arthur’s mother and tried to assault a teenager,,,) although merlin is portrayed in a positive light throughout modern arthuriana so i don’t think they knew, giving a song to pellinore, who my perception of has been forever altered bc i was introduced to him through malory and the explanation of torre’s conception, which you can just look up “sir torre arthurian” to find out abt if you can’t just Guess, if they wanted a song abt the questing beast palomydes was Right There AND has been associated with the questing beast for longer, but once again i don’t think they knew.

also namedropping a bunch of knights in the fiction is... it Suggests a bigger world full of all these other stories but they just don’t work bc the world of hnoc wasn’t designed in a way where the appearance of half these characters would make sense.  like,, tristan is referenced as dying in the grail quest in the same sentence as bedevere (one of the characters who is known for almost always surviving), but tristan Isn’t one of the knights who dies on the grail quest, his possible deaths (ignoring the potentially happy ending of the povest for a second) are either being murdered by his uncle, king mark (bc mark married tristan’s gf to try and get tristan killed and also to spite him), bc he was driven into a fury bc of tristan and isolde’s affair, or he’s injured and only isolde (the best healer in the world) can save him so he sends for her and if the ship he sent for her is supposed to fly white sails if she’s there, or black sails if she’s not, and the ship flies white sails but his wife (also named isolde) says it’s black sails (the why depends but usually comes down to jealousy), and so he gives up bc he thinks all hope is lost and usually succumbs to his injuries, either way isolde dies of a broken heart over his body.  there’s no way for the tristan and isolde story to play out like it’s supposed to in the world of hnoc, just as there’s no way for any story with gawaine (and Oh Boy are there a lot of stories with gawaine) or pretty much anyone else, without severely altering the canon.

of course, there are still parts of hnoc i like a lot, most of the music i adore and i just like the idea of space cowboys and the secret good hnoc that lives in my head.  and it has one of my favorite characterizations of galahad, even though galahad hnoc is nothing like galahad arthuriana.  it’s not GOOD but i like it and it’s fun to turn my brain off too, and i’ll always value it as my introduction to arthuriana.

also there are modern arthurian tropes i do like such as characters being genre-savvy/knowing they’re fictional/knowing they’ve done this before (which hnoc does wonderfully!) and bedevere-as-the-storyteller (everyone say thank you lord tennyson).

WOW that was longer than expected, i feel very passionately abt this, when i was planning to write a fully sourced essay i meant to include a bit at the bottom with recommendations to get into better arthuriana and i think i’ll keep that in this post.

if you like hnoc for the arthurian music i’d like to suggest heather dale’s arthurian music to you, she does occasionally fall into the trap of modern arthuriana (some parts of lancelot and arthur being close, morgan as modred’s mother), sometimes she’s just wrong (galahad at lancelot’s trial, a lot of tristan and isolde), and her stuff is kinda straightwashed sometimes (sir gawain and the green knight, for example) but i’d be lying if it wasn’t catchy, and it’s not quite as bad as hnoc adaptation-wise.  culwch and olwen is pretty accurate (albeit abridged bc culwch and olwen has SO many tangents), as is lily maid (it’s abt elayne of astolat!).

if you liked hnoc for king arthur... in space! then may i recommend to you my own fanfic? it's not posted yet but the second i finish writing the first chapter i'm going to make a Big Deal out of it that'll be impossible to miss!

if you want to learn abt arthuriana through tumblr-osmosis like i did at first, i’d like to recommend the love of my life @acegalahads, first and foremost (it’s me on a sideblog i’m just obsessed with myself), and i can’t recommend my arthuriana mutuals over there, @/gringolet, @/merlinenthusiast, @/jcbookworm, @/elayneofshalott, and @/elaineofascolat (the elayne urls have been popular recently), also i know for a fact that my mutual-in-law, @/itonje makes great arthuriana posts that i look forwards to whenever i open the tag.

here are a few good reference posts, a quick guide to the characters, a guide to characters of color, and a much more comprehensive intro to arthuriana post with even more texts linked to it.

if you want to ease into med lit, i’d like to introduce you to pre-raphaelite poetry, alfred lord tennyson and william morris are my favorites, although tennyson can’t be trusted with tristan and isolde.  the poem the lady of shalott is basically a rite of passage for arthuriana fans, although when it comes to tennyson’s writings abt elayne of astolat, i prefer lancelot and elaine, which is part of his much larger story, idylls of the king.  for morris, don’t trust what he says abt aggravaine killing his mother, but my favorites of his are sir galahad, a christmas mystery, which sounds like a shitty disney sequel, and palomyde’s quest, which i blame for my love of palomydes (that and the one bit of the povest where he asks tristan to be his greatest enemy and that he wants nothing more, gay ppl,,,,).

if you want to read abt lancelot and his husband, there’s the lancelot-grail cycle, which i believe was taken off of archive dot org and i think i found it on @/tobeisexhausting’s blog but don’t quote me on that.

the povest, which was a religious experience for me and i can’t reccomend enough if you want to like tristan and isolde, is here, i don’t know who scanned it but i think i found it on @/lanzelet’s blog

the dutch texts are just good in general, here’s a link to their section of a(n unfinished) site for hosting various texts by my former mutual @/reynier (who’s no longer on tumblr).  i’d like to recommend lancelot and the white hart specifically bc it’s mainly just just gawaine being gay for lancelot.

if you want older works, here’s my scan of the history of the kings of britain, and here’s culwch and olwen and pa gur.

oh wow this is even longer than i thought it would be so i’m going to wrap this up by saying that i always love to talk abt arthuriana more than anything if you have any questions or just are curious!

[les-mooserables]

Hello, John

[AS SOON AS HE BEGINS SPEAKING, A WHIZZING STATIC KICKS IN FROM THE BACKGROUND.]

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

[THE ARCHIVIST MAKES A PAINED COUPLE OF SOUNDS OUT-OF-STATEMENT-CHARACTER, AS IF HE’S TRYING TO TEAR HIMSELF AWAY FROM THE STATEMENT AND PHYSICALLY CANNOT.][WHEN HE PICKS THE STATEMENT BACK UP, THE WORDS SOUND LIKE THEY’RE BEING TORN FROM HIS LIPS.]ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

[A SLAP ON THE TABLE – OR A CRACK? SPOOKY.]

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, John?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

[THUNDERCLAPS.]

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

[THUNDER CONTINUES AS HE GOES ON.]

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

[SOMETHING CREAKS. ANOTHER LOUD SNAP/CRACKLE.]

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

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

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

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

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. (cruel laugh) Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. (cruel, cruel laugh) Repeat after me.

[WHEN THE ARCHIVIST BEGINS TO READ THE INCANTATION, A HEAVY, DENSE STATIC RETURNS AND BEGINS TO BUILD, ADDING IN HIGHER PITCHES AS IT DOES SO.]

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

[blossomoranges]

love’s lost

this fic was commissioned by @pastel-hideout, based on her beautiful and heart-wrenching artwork, using Shingen and her character Damian! 

thank you to @mythiica and @tsundere-mitsuhide for being incredible people and for beta-ing this story.

if you like the story, feel free to take a look at my commission page!

tw: blood and details of respiratory illness

please enjoy!!

Shingen never been so glad to see the end of a war council. There had been a persistent tickle in the back of his throat all morning. Thank goodness Damian wasn’t in attendance - he’d hate to worry his boyfriend with any of this.

Yuki had shot him concerned glances whenever he reached for a cup of tea to soothe the itch or loosened his kimono to cope with his high temperature. He had tried to reassure the young man that there wasn’t anything amiss - Yuki only responded by furrowing his brows with some intensity and issuing a warning against Shingen’s tendency to hide his pain: “There had better not be.”

The Tiger of Kai had spent the entire walk to his quarters ruminating on how much he hated lying to his son. It had been slow-going, but the end was almost in sight. As his lungs began to protest and every exhale turned into a wheeze, Shingen tried his best to quicken his pace. He knew the warning signs for one of his coughing fits and there was no way he could afford to collapse out in the open. The burning sensation within his lungs only worsened with each staggering step, his leaden legs weighing him down until the length of the hallway felt like an odyssey. 

'Almost there’ became a mantra in his head as he struggled to keep himself upright. The wildfire was still clawing its way up to the back of his tongue, turning his desperate breaths into sputtering coughs. He grasped the sliding door to his safe haven with shaking hands, praying that he could make it through the threshold before his lungs decided to revolt in a fashion he couldn't hide.

 The room tilted on its axis just as Shingen shut the door and finally let himself drop to his knees. 

Spirits, he was sick of these coughing fits. They sapped his energy and it took all he had to stay conscious afterwards.

He barely had the strength to keep his eyes open. As he lifted his hand, trying to rub at his weary eyes, his wrist brushed past a growing streak of wetness on his chin. The source soon became apparent - warm blood was dripping in tiny rivulets from his mouth. The blood from war never bothered him, but this? He never realized how much blood one man could cough up.

He doesn't hesitate before wiping it all away with his sleeve.

However, Shingen couldn’t stay kneeling all day. Slowly but surely, he dragged his ailing body onto all fours and crawled along the tatami mats, one arm over the other, until he could lay himself over the surface of his desk. The wood was blessedly cool against his cheek - at least one of his aches was being soothed. 

After a few moments of rest, Shingen tried to press his hand against the desk in the hopes of levering himself upwards. Instead of feeling a wooden surface beneath his palm, his hand brushed against the hardcover of a leather-bound tome.

---

Some weeks ago, when Shingen was still well enough to leave the castle grounds, he and Damian headed out to the market together. His boyfriend had acquired yet another book to add to his growing collection, but instead of squirrelling it away on his bookshelf, he had pressed it into Shingen’s hands as soon as they returned to their quarters.

“What’s this, darling?”

He could have sworn that there was a tinge of pink to Damian’s cheeks, but he couldn’t be sure, as the man had turned to face the screen door beside them. 

“It’s a collection of sonnets. Poetry. I want you to have it.”

“Son-its,” he sounded out. “I’ve never heard of them. What subject matter do they deal with?”

“... Love. The sonnets in this book discuss love.” 

Ah. Now he was sure that his boyfriend was flustered, a beautiful blush blooming across his face.

“This is a wonderful gift. I’ll cherish every word, my angel.” 

Shingen set the book down on his desk with the utmost care, before sweeping Damian into his arms, delighted by the other man’s yelps of surprise. He pressed their foreheads together,  relishing every moment he could bask in his lover’s warmth.

---

The memory of Damian’s gift soothes his soul in a way no medicine could accomplish. This book was a tangible reminder of better days - ones where Shingen had hope that his body could last for a little while longer.

He never thought that he would find true love, the kind that made his heart burst with joy every time Shingen saw his loving smile and turned his thoughts into a jumbled mess whenever Damian drew close.

Despite trials, tribulations, and time itself trying to separate them, they had stayed together. 

It broke Shingen’s heart that it would soon come to a close.

Ever since meeting the man, he had indulged himself in endless daydreams of the life they would share and the home he wanted them to build. He would have crafted a bookcase for Damian’s collection of tomes and scrolls. There would be two finely-carved desks for the endless missives and letters they were both inundated with. Maybe he would have added a crib and some wooden toys if he could ever convince his lover of the many merits of children. He furrowed his brow, halting the thoughts before they became too much to bear - he wouldn’t live long enough to start any of those projects.  

Daydreams with no real substance shouldn’t cause him this much anguish. He should be happy! His homeland was under the Takeda clan’s protection and he had given his people a place to call Kai once more. Though Nobunaga’s head remained firmly attached to his body, his continued existence had enabled Shingen to kickstart a shaky truce between both sides of their endless war. No more blood would be spilt across his lands. A new head of the Takeda clan had been elected, the burden of leadership no longer falling on Shingen’s aching shoulders. That’s all he had ever wanted.

He had done his best to push people away, refusing to saddle others with the grief he knew would inevitably come to pass. His plan was to indulge only in shallow, fleeting relationships; everyone would be better off in the end, he’d reasoned. Unfortunately, the world had always done its best to derail Shingen Takeda’s plans. He had found himself saddled with a strange, patchwork family, nestled inside the imposing walls of Kasugayama. 

Kenshin had been guilt-stricken and wounded inside as long as Shingen had known him. Despite that, he was a brilliant commander and, honestly, a pretty good rival. He had faith that one day, Kenshin would pick up his shattered pieces and lacquer them with gold.

Yoshimoto would always have his head in the clouds, but he’d come into his own as a leader, integrating the remnants of the Imagawa clan into the Takeda. His cousin would survive.

Sasuke, forever staring up at the heavens, like their mysteries would be solved if he just looked long enough. If anyone could figure them out, it was him.

Yuki was his most trusted vassal and the inheritor of his legacy - there was no doubt in Shingen’s mind that he was the man for the job.  His son would carry on, with his head held high, as he always had. 

And of course, his dear Damian. His one true love, his sunshine, his lifeline. Others would have succumbed to despair if they were trapped in this period of ceaseless war, but he had blossomed into a loving partner and one hell of a treasurer.

They would be alright. The continued company of a dying man would only hold them back.

He had kept a smile plastered to his face throughout it all, never letting his mask fall, just to spare everyone from the horrible reality - that death would soon come calling for him. Day by wretched day, his breath grew shorter and his temperature soared, the end creeping closer. He had seen what the truth did to his other loved ones, as they began to grieve for a man who was still with them. 

Seeing Damian’s face fall, when he realized that Shingen was living on borrowed time… it would be the final nail in his coffin. 

But lying to his love like this wasn’t sustainable. His partner was a man who had been through his own hardships. It wasn’t fair to him - he deserved the truth.

He wished he had the strength to find his lover, but the coughing had returned with a vengeance, searing his lungs and robbing him of what little air he had managed to take in. Maybe it was making him dizzy, but Shingen could swear that he could feel the end - it was burning bright behind his eyelids, its very presence demanding he come closer.

All he could do was hope that Damian could forgive him for leaving like this. 

---

Damian had barely seen his boyfriend today. They’d both been so busy that the only time they had spent together lately was just before they collapsed into bed for the night.

Luckily, they were both free for the rest of the afternoon. All he wanted was for them to while away a few hours in each other’s arms, soaking in Shingen’s presence like a flower under a vast sky, talking about everything and nothing at all.

He had expected to see Shingen bent over the desk, working hard to secure his people’s future, or perhaps sitting out on the veranda and basking in the sunlight.

Instead, he is met with the sight of a pale man, drenched in sweat and wheezing with every breath. His horror only intensified as a fresh round of coughs wracked his love’s body. Shingen’s chin was already stained with dried streaks of blood, but fresh droplets spattered into his hand as he tried to stifle his cough.

The only thing Damian can think to do is scream, but the sound won’t leave his throat. It wouldn’t matter if he did. He stumbled in his hurry to get to Shingen, falling to his knees and grasping at the bloodstained fabric of his kimono.

“Why didn’t you say anything?! You selfish bastard, don’t leave me… you promised that you wouldn’t leave me!”

The man’s only response to his tirade was a gentle smile. Shingen inclined his head at some point past him, motioning to something. He whirled around, leaving his blonde locks in disarray as he desperately tried to see what Shingen wanted him to, blind panic drawing mere seconds out into what felt like years.

Finally, his gaze fell on the little book of sonnets displayed on the man’s desk. He’s struck by memories of traipsing through the market hand-in-hand, Shingen gathering him up in his arms and pressing sweet kisses to his lips. 

Damian’s eyes welled up with tears. He couldn’t lose the man he loved, not when they’d barely begun their life together. He is roused from his thoughts by Shingen’s trembling hand pressing against the back of his head, slowly bringing their foreheads together, for what seemed to be the final time.