#Motorway Case | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokisgoodgirl · 1 year ago

Text

Changing Seasons: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (1) A long journey with Thor, Steve and Loki ends in a ramshackle country cottage. But really, it's just begun. (w/c 3.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references. Humour/Mild angst. Recommended Folklore Track: The 1

This is fine.

It’s just five days. In this...cottage. With your ex. You’ll barely see him.

The tiny two story building sat before you, twisting wisteria claiming rough stoned walls. Burnt orange leaves sparked against the morning chill, rooted into windowsills and crumbling brickwork.

It was small. Really small.

You stretched your legs, observing Thor waddle from the car, laden with suitcases.

One fell.

“Watch that!” Steve snapped, on his last nerve after the drive from the Essex compound. A hand flew to his neck, massaging the twinge caused by six hours squashed in the back of a hastily acquired hatchback. “Your collection of personal toys, Rogers?” Loki drawled, letting his mirth-filled eyes slide between the two men. “Yes, brother do be careful. We wouldn’t want the captain to be without an outlet.” Steve’s face flushed, while Thor staggered valiantly onward to the cottage door. “I still don’t understand why we didn’t take the train,” Loki muttered with a theatrical sigh, a single brush down the front of his suit making every well-worn crease evaporate. “The two of you on a train,” Steve spat incredulously, “wouldn’t be great for subtlety.”

Every syllable was laden with frustration as he heaved another case from the trunk. The god nodded. “Even I must admit, this is much more entertaining Rogers” he replied, motioning towards the cottage at the exact moment Thor’s forehead smacked against the low awning.

The suitcases fell in predictable succession. “Jeepers criminey-” Steve gasped, lunging forwards.

You rolled your eyes, smiling just Loki glanced backwards. A wolfish grin ignited. Shit. With narrowed eyes, he began to glide around the Fiat like a day-walker. His hair was slicked back, falling over the shoulders of a black suit more appropriate to fashion week than training in the wilds of the Lake District. You’d tried not to look at him much on the way here. For obvious reasons. He swaggered with resolute precision, infuriatingly erotic as he always was. It was sick, how he looked so good. Like he hadn’t been in the same car as the rest of you, gorging on jelly babies and squished krispy kremes foraged along the motorway. You had practised for this moment, and to your credit; your face remained perfectly straight. Your posture, casual. Unbothered, as Steve and Thor argued further up the path.

‘My slacks were perfectly folded in New York. If there is any rumplage Odinson- then I’ll know who to blame.’

‘Carry your own damn suitcases, then-’ ‘-I would’ve, if you hadn’t been such a dandy-show-off’

You spun away from your incoming ex, steadying your racing heart as you focused on the horizon. Mist hung over the rusted treeline, green and sienna twisting together and dipping down to a sprawling lake about a mile away, you reckoned, spread against the sunrise. Loki’s playful scathing broke the calm. “You haven’t said two words to me in almost twelve hours, Agent,” he purred. “I’m impressed.” There was a time that kind of talk would have brought you to your knees. But not anymore, you lied to yourself, clenching. With your eyes still lowered, you tilted your chin towards him. Defiantly, slowly, you raised them; catching his inscrutable stare like a rifle’s scope. You raised your eyebrows expectantly, lips sealed. Loki scoffed, looking into the distance. His breath was fog. “I don’t know what else I expected,” he muttered quietly.

You stood in silence, backs turned to the domestic carnage unfolding at the cottage door. Letting your gaze roll over the mountains. Early morning autumnal air stung the back of your throat. Fresh pine and wisps of smoke from unseen chimneys, far away. Amber hues spindled along the surface of the lake a mile below, rippling methodically. You fought the urge to look at him.

His eyes would look beautiful in this kind of light. Always had. “It reminds me of home,” he murmured wistfully. It sank into the crisp air, the softness of the tone you still dreamt about curling around your body like smoke. Loki’s scent mingled with the breeze, reminding you of nights spent wrapped around him as you slept in snatches. His hand never far from your own. His love draped over you like a cloak.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You felt him lean in, the warmth of his breath against your skin drawing closer before it retreated. “Asgard,” he added condescendingly. “Although, Asgard isn’t quite as...rustic.” He lifted a foot, making a show of wiping a sole on the wet grass.

You grit your teeth. It never ended. He couldn’t help himself, even after everything that had happened between you. The snake tightened inside your belly, unfurling and poised to strike; regrettable words bubbling behind your teeth. “Let’s just get through this week, shall we?” Loki snapped, before turning away. The crunch of twigs beneath his retreating footsteps was all you heard as the chill stung your eyes. Just the chill.

"I carry the paraphernalia so I shall be first across the threshold thank you very much,” Thor grumped, jostling Steve from his path and shuffling sideways through the frame. Steve grimaced, nodding at Loki to follow his brother. “Thank you,” Loki said curtly; noting the captain’s gaze flicker to where you stood overlooking the lake in a valiant attempt to remain mysterious. “She’s quite well,” he added presumptively.

Steve frowned. “She was quiet on the drive. Even let Thor play his music. Not like her” he said, leaning against the cottage wall before recoiling. “Urgh, it’s damp.” Loki chuckled. “Of course it is. Welcome to the northern hemisphere, Rogers. What you need, is some leather” he winked.

He watched the captain pat his shirt fruitlessly as a stain blossomed through the pale cotton, clearing his throat softly. “She’s still a little...put out... by our parting of ways. Can’t blame her, really. I mean-” He gestured to himself with a consillatory sigh. “She’ll warm up-”

Loki cast a glance around, realising he wasn’t sure if the hallway was colder than the exterior. “-metaphorically, anyway.”

Steve nodded sagely. “To everything there is a season…” he mused. Loki frowned, turning away. He waved a dismissive hand. “You know I do not traffic in colloquialisms, Rogers” he scoffed with his back turned. Entering the kitchen, Loki immediately bumped his shin on a discarded suitcase. He wrinkled his nose.

A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the cramped space. Ageing wallpaper clung valiantly to its charge, whimsical ducks and geese parading in an inexplicable march. Thor stood hunched over the sink, running spluttering water into the world’s smallest kettle. The ceiling was inches from his head. “Tea, brother?” he chirped. Loki nodded, wondering how the hell they’d ended up here. “Rogers?” he enquired innocently. Steve’s head popped round the doorframe.

“Howdy!” Loki closed his eyes and took a breath. “Rogers,” he repeated. “Remind me why this week is truly necessary?” Steve released a forced chuckle. “I’ll get to that. Hang tight.” He disappeared, shouting your name down the path. By the time the two of you returned, Loki had seidred the suitcases to their respective destinations. He had secured the largest room for himself, of course. Although that wasn’t saying much. Rogers and Thor would be sharing. Loki had the sneaking suspicion that was not the plan – but alas for them – it was their new reality.

Four mismatched mugs of steaming tea sat on the small square table in the corner. Loki sat in one chair, legs crossed. Thor in the other, looking decidedly squashed.

Steve closed the kitchen door while you leant against the counter-top, arms folded. “I made tea,” Thor smiled, pleased with himself as he held it forth like an offering. You accepted. Loki noted the shiver that shook your shoulders as the hot mug entered your cupped grasp. A fleeting smile of pleasure skating across your cheeks. He’d missed that, he found. “Please, take my s-” Loki started, beginning to rise. Habit. “I’ll stand,” you replied curtly. Loki nodded, sinking down. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as an oblivious Steve squinted suspiciously out the window while closing the blinds. “Alrighty then-” he said, turning. His enthusiastic glances bounced to each of them in turn. Thor adjusted himself, rewarded with the malevolent warning creak of a chair leg.

“As anyone who was listening during our meetings will know,” Steve paused, staring at Loki, “it’s come to my attention that our manual outdoor skills are somewhat lacking. Anything happens to our abilities or comms while we’re on a rugged mission and booyah,” he made a burst with his fingers, “pardon my french – but we’re up crud creek without a paddle.” Loki scoffed. “Hardly-” “This week we’ll be getting back to basics. You two-” Steve gestured between the gods seated at the withered dining set, “especially. It’s all magic and brawny shenanigans until you need to skin a rabbit.” He looked to you warily, “Metaphorically, of course. Our resident expert will give us instruction, and we’ll go from there-” Steve nodded to you, folding his arms. Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand how magic-” “No weak links.” he continued, un-phased. He had his very serious face on. “And I count myself in this too. We need to be confident that if something happens, and we’re out in the wilds...we can handle ourselves. Survive, until help arrives.” “But why here?” Loki whined, “we have the facilities to simulate the environment back in-” Steve held up a hand. “No one can know earth’s mightiest heroes are out here learning outdoorsing 101, Laufeyson. Imagine the press. No.” He shook his head. “This is absurd,” Loki muttered into his tea.

“Let’s try and have fun. At the very least, it’s a week in the fresh air.” Loki’s eyes rose, your words and tone clearly rehearsed. There was a weak smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He’d become intimately acquainted with that look in the final months of your relationship.

Silence hung in the kitchen. “And the two of you will be alright, will you?” Thor boomed, stretching a leg which reached halfway across the floor. He took a sip of tea as Steve’s face went pink.

“I mean, with the breakup. Although I suppose its better than being kept awake by the ooo’ing and ahhh’ing through the walls, isn’t it Rogers?” He began to chortle, “remember...remember in- where was it? Oh, Columbia. Norns, what a-”

“-Brother,” Loki snarled. Hair bristled on the back of his neck. You cleared your throat. “Loki and I have an understanding. There’s no animosity between us-” “Isn’t there? News to me,” Loki mumbled petulantly, running a finger across the plastic table cloth. He could almost hear the grind of your teeth as you spoke pointedly to Thor. “Well I intend on remaining professional. I’m sure your brother is the same.” Loki shook his head, snorting. “Professional?” he spat incredulously. “What need have I to be professional? I am a god.” “And there it is,” you began, temperature rising before Steve patted down the air.

“How about we go check out the bedrooms?” he said. Everyone murmured agreement. And somewhere between Loki cursing his temper, and the babble of his brother’s half-hearted apology- you were gone.

Ten minutes later, Loki found himself staring at the same spot on the wall he had been for the last eight. It was meditative almost. On the other side of the wall at the end of his bed, was your room. Small, rectangular. Barely space for more than the single bed. But Loki had a feeling you didn’t mind.

You had settled on the mattress around seven minutes ago after unpacking, the comforting creak of springs alerting him. What were you doing, he wondered. Thinking. Feeling? He shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that was no longer his business. But the thought crawled back with the vengeance of a dying wasp. If we were together still, I’d have made her climax twice on this bed by now.

His clothing hung in a drab single wardrobe. When in Nilfheim, he’d surmised. The garments were simple, and perfunctory. All manner of base layers and fleece lined items in vapid shades which lacked even a morsel of style. Not a sniff of leather. And zips in the most unflattering places.

Loki shuddered.

His ears pricked as he heard a wooden board in your room creak, tracking the slow amble of five steps it took to cross the floor from end to end. She’s looking out the window, he mused.

‘Get your hands off my undergarments,’ Thor’s voice was crisp and menacing through the wall to Loki’s left. ‘Well, put them in a drawer like a gentleman.’ Steve snipped in response, barely muffled by the stone. ‘There are no drawers! Why must we reside in such a place, Rogers!?’ He has a point, Loki thought. ‘Because no one would expect it.’ Steve replied smugly.

There was a pause, but Loki could hear the thump of Thor’s boots as he rounded the twin beds, positioning himself for attack. His voice was low, and purposeful. ‘Just like you won’t expect...this.’ The inhuman sound of one of his brother’s legendary farts ripped through the wall.

Loki braced in the silence that followed, relishing the craft of his devious room organisation while Steve, he presumed, got some traction to exit through the window. ‘Jeepers,’ came the choked, disbelieving response of the captain through the wall. Jeepers indeed, Rogers, Loki smirked.

A sudden tinkle of restrained laughter perked his ears. It came from behind the wall in front of him. He froze, savouring each lilting rise and fall as you gave in to full-blown cackle. Wait for it.

He held his breath. You snorted. Loki grinned, letting himself bathe in the warmth of that laughter which used to lace his brightest moments. The nights, when you met after long days apart. He remembered when he would tickle you beneath his sheets in the Tower. When he would slide his hands over your squealing, curled form in apology, crawl on his knees beneath the covers and gently part your legs.

‘I just can’t help myself,’ he’d purr, kissing the smooth skin of your inner thigh. ‘Forgive me?’

And you always did. Until you hadn’t. You would rake your hand through his hair, lovingly humming his name as he ran his tongue up your plump slit; settling in to his long, languid worship. Loki sighed. He looked down in his lap, realising a thumb was digging into the palm of his clasped hands. He pushed it in harder, frowning. Fool.

Suddenly the door flew open. A red-faced Steve gripped the door-frame, breathing heavily. “Swap...with...me,” he gasped. Loki shook his head, heavy with feigned sympathy. “Afraid not, Rogers. Look, I unpacked and everything.” He pointed to the wardrobe. “Like a gentleman.”

Steve’s face flushed deeper, hanging his head in resignation. “Gosh-darnit,” he sighed under his breath. “Be downstairs and ready in five.”

A chorus of Blackcap birdsong fluttered and rolled over the bushes. Final frostings of morning clung to crisped leaves, slowly warming in the blast of breath-fog from three Avengers huddled around a large map. You watched with an amused smirk on your face, laughing inwardly that Steve thought a wardrobe full of Trepass could disguise their presence. Like three bears at a piglet’s tea party.

Thor held the compass, squinting. The rectangular instrument looked much like a stick of gum in his palm as he leant closer to the dial, searching for some unseen clue. You decided to have mercy.

“So you can see here,” you said gently, tracing your finger over the map, “to get to the lake we need to follow a bearing of 79 degrees….and we need to adjust for true North. Remember?” You moved the compass slightly. “Blast,” Thor growled. He was taking this very seriously. A bobble hat was pulled low on his brow, but even then, you could tell he was frowning. Loki chuckled derisively, smoothing a strand of inky hair from his jawline. You watched as it curled behind his ear. His beautiful, perfectly formed ear. “Volunteering for the next marker, Loki?” you asked calmly, watching his smug smirk fall. You switched back to Thor, now measuring points on the map diligently. Steve stood by his shoulder, taking notes on a small pad. “A-ha!” Thor shouted triumphantly. A dozen birds took off from the nearest tree, fleeing skyward.

Steve frowned. Stealth, it chided. The blonde god whipped his face to you in childish glee. “This way!” he pointed theatrically. You nodded, bathing in the pride spreading across the god of thunder’s face. It was Loki’s turn to frown. “Give me that,” he snipped, snatching the compass as Thor began to fold the map and lead the charge towards the next marker. “You’re just jealous brother. Clearly my skills of navigation are unmatched. Isn’t that so, Agent?” he postured loudly, clearing a branch from your path. It wasn’t often Thor truly had the upper hand. So you decided to push it a little higher. “Out of the three of you so far? Absolutely.” You beamed at him, seeing storm-clouds gather in Loki’s eyes out the corner of your own. His brows knitted together, chin pushing down into the thick roll of his scarf.

Thor hummed as you passed beneath his arm. “I always liked you, you know” he chuckled in hushed tones. Clearly, he’d seen the abject annoyance blossom on his brother’s face too.

You nodded conspiratorially, casting a glance back at your dejected ex as he picked his way over a patch of brambles, hands deep in his coat pockets. Steve followed behind, flicking through the pages of his pocketbook.

“Meh, it’s good for him,” you said diplomatically while shooting Thor a toothy grin.

He returned it.

Loki took each step carefully. He would be damned if a tangle of barbed shrubbery bested him the same day as his oaf of a brother.

He wouldn’t have gotten it without her help, he fumed; stepping quickly over a freshly steaming pile of suspicious pellets. His nose wrinkled, glancing up to where the two of you were sharing a moment. Blatant favouritism.

Gritting his teeth, his jaw nuzzled further beneath the coiled wool around his throat. A smile lit up your face as you shared some sort of inside jest with his brother. Loki remembered, all too well, how you used to look at him that way. How it was to bathe in the warm of your affection, the comfort of your hallowed inner circle.

He tried not to let his mind wander to your inner circle too much. The immediate twitch of his cock beneath the ghastly slacks was a timely reminder why. Steve’s shrill caw of warning came too late. “Watch your-” Loki froze, snarling as his eyes fell to the foot now wedged in a pile of shit. “How appropriate,” he sighed as he reluctantly pulled it free. He began to wipe it on the ground. “Just wipe it on the ground,” Rogers said. Loki's stare was daggers as he continued to do just that, cursing the Norns as you began to walk towards them. “What’s the hold up?” you said. Loki raised a hand to stop Steve from speaking, but alas.

“Laufeyson stepped in poop.” “Thank you, Rogers. I’m sure our ‘resident expert’ can see that.” Steve crouched down to his haunches, inspecting the boot-imprinted pile. “Looks like deer poop to me,” he observed diligently. “What do you think, Agent?” “Could be,” you said, matching his serious tone. “Nice spot.” Loki felt his jaw slacken.

What portal has opened and swallowed me to this unending nightmare.

He wiped the defiled heel of his clumpy, tan boot a final time, before marching up the ridge. He should be first. He had the compass, the ultimate instrument of inter-planetary survival, apparently. “Broth-” he started, before rocking back on his heels. “What is your problem?” he heard you hiss as you yanked the back of his jacket. Loki whipped round, every snippy retort that hovered on his lips evaporating as he saw your flushed face; wild with undisguised irritation. Steve was bumbling slowly up the hill, oblivious. “I…” Loki breathed, resisting the unfamiliar urge to tell the truth. You were still gripping a toggle that dangled from the back of his jacket. Loki looked at it, pausing a moment before refocusing with renewed vigour.

“I shouldn’t have to do this. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.” “Well why are you even here? Why don’t you just bugger off at a moment’s notice like you always do? Go whine to Heimdall or something?” Loki heard white noise bubble deep in his mind, rising to a roar as his vision tunnelled to the sight of your pupils blown wide with anger; lip trembling ever so slightly as you valiantly stood your ground. There she is, he thought with bizarre satisfaction. “Because I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m not a team-player, would I?” he snarled through gritted teeth. You released your grip on his toggle with a scoff. “I’ll believe that when I see it. If you can last the whole trip, I’ll-”

“-You’ll what?” Loki heard himself say. The tone, he noted, was dangerously flirtatious.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“-I’ll be am-azed. The prim prince of Asgard, hacking it for a week out here. It might be good for you.” You see-sawed your palm. “But you know...low expectations.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as Steve emerged hovering over your shoulder. He suddenly reminded Loki very much of the geese parading on the kitchen walls. “I assure you, Agent, I shall pass your tests with flying colours.” He forced a smile. It hurt his cheeks in the cold. A little bow followed. A little flourish of his hand. He paused, baiting you. “I look forward to you proving me wrong, then,” you sniffed, re-adjusting the straps of your backpack.

Your eyes caught his a little longer than you’d intended.

Loki’s gaze fell to your lips, beginning to chap in the unforgiving English chill. How he wanted to capture them with his in that moment, moisten them with his breath and tongue and fiery adoration. To warm you, take care of you. As he should have when he had the chance, perhaps.

At the time, Loki wasn’t sure why - but nonetheless he held out the compass to Steve. “You take this one, Rogers.” “Alrighty then!” the captain quipped obliviously. His knees pumped up in a farcical jog down the ridge towards Thor, having an in-depth conversation with a passing sheep.

“Alrighty then,” you mimicked to yourself with quiet smile. Meeting Loki’s amused gaze, the smile fell. And without another word, you set off down the hill.

The god watched you pick your way gracefully over the autumnal landscape, breeze whipping your hair. He brushed his own from his eyes, pausing to reluctantly admire the rugged peaks and cliffs that curled in on their path. Burnt orange mingled with green, a rolling wave of seasons trickling through the vale. He could feel it all around him; through him – seeping beneath his skin, whether he willed it or no.

Change.

Chapter Two: Sticks and Stones A/N: Thank you so so much for reading this - if you did! I'm having so much fun with these bunch and I'm very excited to share this kind of ridiculous journey with you :) There won't be as many POV switches in subsequent chapters - we just needed it in this one. As always - love love to hear your thoughts. Gooooo Autumn!🍁

Tags (contd in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog

#the lakes #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #loki series #loki marvel #loki gif #loki x yn #loki x reader smut #loki x you #loki x you smut

866 notes · View notes

definitelynotabirthblog · 2 months ago

Text

1000 word quick drabble. I challenged myself to write imperfectly for an hour and post whatever came out. This is the result. Not too bad for something that hasn't had about a million edits.

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

A CALLOUS CABBIE

The clutch on their car had been making very strange noises since Thursday. There is no way it would be fixed in less than three days, five including the upcoming bank holiday weekend. Bella's contractions started at 11pm on the Saturday night, only as painful as day two period cramps and twenty minutes apart at first, but by 3am on the Sunday morning, the contractions head steadily increased in frequency to every five minutes with the intensity of them now rendering her unable to talk when they peaked. It was time to go to the maternity unit, but with no functional car of their own, they were relying on the local taxi service to help them make the fifteen mile journey.

Brendon booked the the vehicle for as soon as possible using the company's app on his phone. Within ten minutes, a black Honda had appeared outside their house, the low rumble of the engine humming. Brendon swung Bella's hospital bag over his left shoulder and, supporting his wife with his other arm, walked her slowly out to the car. As she shuffled in, the driver took in the sight of her bump in the rear view mirror and frowned.

"I hope there won't be any accidents on that seat. A drunk puked on it last week and I've only just had it fixed" he huffed.

"We have sick bags in case. But she doesn't feel sick, do you baby?" Brendan asked Bella.

"That's not what I meant," the driver sighed. "I meant any... fluids. The last thing I need is any nasty stuff on my seat."

"My waters haven't broken yet," Bella insisted. "But if they do and I make a mess on your seat, we will pay for the cost of getting it cleaned."

"And what about the cost of the fares I'll miss while I'm getting it cleaned? Whose going to pay for that?" he argued back.

Brendon looked at the driver, speechless. Bella rolled her eyes and looked at her husband.

"Run in and get a towel to put under me sweetie."

Muttering under his breath, Brendon got out of the car and ran back to the house. Less than a minute later, he was back carrying a large fluffy towel. Bella lifted her bottom up and allowed him to spread it beneath her.

"Happy?" Brendon said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Ecstatic."

The vehicle revved up and started to move. For the first tenty minutes minutes of the journey, Bella was able to breath through the contractions as Brendon held her hand next to her. The cool night air brushed her face through the open window, distracting her somewhat from her cramping womb. As a particularly nasty pain cut through her as the vehicle turned on an intersection, Bella felt warm amniotic fluid engulf her crotch. Crying out as the contraction peaked, Brendon looked at his wife's drenched bottoms and gasped. The driver glared through the rear view mirror.

"What the hell was that?" he called back.

"Baby?" Brendon said, ignoring him. He looked at his wife, who glanced down at her pants and shot a panicked look first to her husband and then at the driver.

"Just a really bad one. It's going now."

But less than two minutes later Bella was roaring as another pain pummelled her uterus, head thrown back, hand snaking down to her crotch.

"Oh god, it's coming! Brendon, it's coming now!" she squeaked.

"Stop the car please," Brendon called, as he removed his wife's seat belt.

"Why?"

"Because my wife is giving birth!"

"I'm not stopping now. We're five minutes away. Tell her to cross her legs."

"Excuse me? I said stop the car! I need to call an ambulance!"

"And whose is going to pay for my missed fares when we have to hang around for an hour for it to come?"

"I'll pay you double. Just stop the fucking car!"

"No," he said plainly, taking the slip road onto the motorway.

"Brendon! Please! It's coming out!"

Bella's pleading brought Brendon down from his rage as she whimpered beside him, her hands cupping her crotch. He could see the patch of wetness had grown as more fluid leaked out of her. Car being driven at 80mph or not, he needed to act. Grabbing Bella's hips, he swivelled her body 90 degrees so she was facing him, her shoulders resting against the interior of the car door.

"Take my pants off!" she gasped. Brendon dragged her bottoms down her legs in one swift motion, exposing her labouring vulva. There, sat between two puffy lips and under the glistening jewel of her clit, was the centimetre square dark patch of their firstborn's head as her body forced it into the world.

"Oh my fucking god, I need to push!" Bella yelled, as she bore down. Fluid dribbled out from behind the swirls of the infant's hair as the centimetre patch of hair grew to an inch. Brendon held her legs open and instinctively she put her feet on his shoulders, bracing her legs against him as she pushed.

"You're doing it baby," he said, his voice breaking as he gently supported the taut perenium with his shaky fingertips. Bella's stretched pussy neared a full crown, her feet by his ears. Grunting with effort, she pushed like she was trying to shit a boulder, as her baby's head stretched her battered vagina to its limit. She shrieked with pain as their child's head popped out with a slosh of bloody fluid into its father's waiting hands. Pushing once more, a wriggling baby tumbled out onto the car seat, swimming in fluid. Brendon put the child onto its mother's chest, covering them both with his own jacket.

"How are we getting on back there?" the cabbie shouted, as he finally slowed his vehicle, the lights of the hospital shining through the cat windows.

"You'd better fucking believe we won't be paying for any damage you arsehole," said Brendon as his child cried, breathing oxygen into its lungs for the first time.

#birth fiction #birth kink #fpreg #labour kink #birth fic #fem birth #inconvenient birth #labor kink #giving birth #quick birth

104 notes · View notes

literaryvein-reblogs · 7 months ago

Text

Writing Notes: Punctuation Marks

In speaking, we use pauses and the pitch of the voice to make what we say clear. Punctuation plays a similar role in writing, making it easier to read.

Punctuation consists of both rules and conventions. There are rules of punctuation that have to be followed; but there are also punctuation conventions that give writers greater choice.

The standard English punctuation is as follows: period/full stop, comma, apostrophe, quotation, question, exclamation, brackets, braces, parenthesis, dash, hyphen, ellipsis, colon, semicolon.

. PERIOD/FULL STOP

Use a period/full stop to mark the end of a sentence:

We went to France last summer.

We were really surprised that it was so easy to travel on the motorways.

In addition to closing sentences, we also use full stops in initials for personal names:

G. W. Dwyer

David A. Johnston, Accountant

Full stops are also used after abbreviations, although this practice is becoming less common:

Arr. (arrival)

etc. (etcetera)

Dr. (doctor)

, COMMA

We use commas to separate a list of similar words or phrases:

It’s important to write in clear, simple, accurate words.

We do not normally use a comma before and at the end of a list of single words:

They travelled through Bulgaria, Slovakia, the Czech Republic and Poland.

American English does use a comma in lists before and:

We took bread, cheese, and fruit with us.

Note: the Oxford comma, also known as a serial comma, is placed immediately before the conjunction—usually “and,”. “or,” or “nor”—in a series of three or more terms.

We use commas to separate words or phrases that mark where the voice would pause slightly:

I can’t tell you now. However, all will be revealed tomorrow at midday.

We had, in fact, lost all of our money.

James, our guide, will accompany you on the boat across to the island.

' APOSTROPHE

Apostrophes are used to mark possession and to mark contractions. They are also used to denote a quotation mark in material that is already being quoted.

It was James’ car that the drunk driver hit.

��James said, ‘If you come any closer I’ll call the police.’”

'...' or "..." QUOTATION MARKS

Quotation marks in English are ‘…’ or “…”. In direct speech, we enclose what is said within a pair of single or double quotation marks, although single quotation marks are becoming more common.

Lydia said, “Is this my prom dress?”

Quotation marks are used to inform a reader either of something that was spoken or something that is being directly copied from another work. Quotes should also be placed around a word if it is used in a specific context or otherwise bears special attention. In informal applications, quotations can also be used to denote something that is ironic.

? QUESTION MARK

Use question marks to make clear that what is said is a question. When we use a question mark, we do not use a period/full stop:

Why do they make so many mistakes?

! EXCLAMATION POINT/MARK

Use an exclamation point/mark after a command or other expression that expresses strong feeling or deserves special emphasis:

For the last time, stop distracting me!

Fire! Fire!

We use exclamation points/marks to indicate an exclamative clause or expression in informal writing. When we want to emphasise something in informal writing, we sometimes use more than one exclamation point/mark:

Listen!!

Use exclamation points sparingly. Overuse dilutes their impact.

( ) [ ] { } PARENTHESIS, BRACKET, BRACES

Parentheses note non-essential information that could be skipped without altering the meaning of a sentence. Brackets are most commonly employed in academic writing within a quotation where the writer is omitting or explaining something. In either case, the writer places a bracket within the quote [explains or places an ellipsis and] closes the bracket to continue the quote. Braces are used quite rarely and are employed to essentially make a list within a list.

Cora (the woman who lives down the street from Jane) works as a paralegal.

Professor Brown claims, “She [the novel’s central character] is an example of a strong African-American woman.”

Before I go on vacation I need to pack my bags {clothes, toiletries and shoes}, unplug the TV, and close all of the windows.

more on: — EM DASH

Formed by two hyphens, dashes mark an abrupt break in a sentence. Less formal than either parentheses or commas, a dash—highlighting whatever is set apart—also creates a dramatic pause.

Use a dash (instead of parentheses) when a parenthetic expression is lengthy, contains commas, or deserves special emphasis:

My grandmother's house—the apartment in the city, not the clapboard cottage on the beach—has been sold.

Daynel told me—and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone—that he was fired Wednesday.

Use a dash to emphasize or to set off a single word, an appositive, or a summary:

There’s one way in which to succeed—hard work.

I cannot believe what she puts on her hamburger—sauerkraut.

They graduated, married, and divorced—all this change in just six months.

Use a dash to show an abrupt change in thought:

You are NOT dragging me to that movie—oh, what the heck, start the car.

Use a dash to mark an interruption or pause in dialogue:

“Would—would you mind terribly?”

- HYPHEN

Hyphenate multiple words acting as a single adjective before a noun:

state-of-the-art design

greenish-blue eyes

Hyphenate compound numbers:

twenty-eight

ninety-three

Hyphenate certain prefixes and suffixes:

all-school assembly

self-esteem

Hyphenate words to avoid ambiguity:

Since Sylvia auctioned all my records, I’ll have to re-collect them.

Hyphenate some compound words to avoid awkward double or triple letters:

anti-inflammatory

cross-stitch

Use a dictionary to check standard usage of hyphenated words, e.g., whistle blower, whistleblower, or whistle-blower.

Never use a hyphen between an adverb ending in “ly” and the adjective it modifies.

. . . ELLIPSIS

Use three spaced periods (ellipsis) to indicate the omission of one or more words in a direct quote. Beginning a quotation with an ellipsis is unnecessary. End a quotation with an ellipsis only if words have been omitted from the end of the final quoted sentence:

“Now, as a nation . . . we were founded on the idea that everybody should have an equal opportunity to succeed.”

“brilliant . . . an amazingly insightful film”

If the ellipsis represents the omission of a complete sentence or more, use four periods instead of three:

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person. . . . We are the change that we seek.”

: COLON

Use a colon to introduce ideas or a series of details that explain the preceding independent clause. A colon may call attention to an appositive, example, list, or a quotation:

Only one thing was important to her: the truth.

The reasons for divorce are many: money, infidelity, children, or boredom.

The sense of unity with nature is vividly shown in Zen Buddhist poetry: “An old pine tree preaches wisdom.”

Use a colon when required by convention:

Biblical references: Genesis 1:1

Business letter salutations: Dear Professor Devall:

Certain titles and subtitles: Babel: Or the Necessity of Violence: An Arcane History of the Oxford Translators' Revolution

Periodical Volume and Number: Harper’s 203:16

Periodical Volume and Page Number: Harper’s 203:98–101

Time: 12:15 a.m. to 12:30 a.m.

; SEMI-COLON

We use semi-colons instead of full stops to separate two main clauses. In such cases, the clauses are related in meaning but are separated grammatically:

Spanish is spoken throughout South America; in Brazil the main language is Portuguese.

/ SLASH

The slash indicates contrasting terms or paired items:

Durand took Advanced Astrophysics on a pass/fail basis.

Although the player/manager committed eight errors in three innings, he still wouldn't take himself out of the game.

When quoting a poem, use a slash to indicate the end of a line, adding a space before and after the slash:

“The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.”

Sources and other related articles: 1 2 3 4 5

#writeblr #langblr #studyblr #dark academia #light academia #language #linguistics #writing reference #writing resources #writing tips #writing advice #literature #writing prompt #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #punctuation #writing refresher

175 notes · View notes

fluorescentbalaclava · 11 months ago

Text

training season's over

Chapter 3: Foxtrot Oscar

Summary:

Foxtrot Oscar / FO / Fuck off (Army) Polite way of telling someone to go play on a motorway.

TF141/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, militar inaccuracies, sugestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, they hate you at first sorry

previous: chapter two "Charlie Foxtrot"

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

You waited outside Price's office, biting on your chapped lips. You could hear them arguing inside, not necessarily screaming but loud enough so you could hear the words "brat", "fuck off" and "glasshouse".

After a few minutes they came out. The first one passing by you was Gaz, who just gave you a glare. Okay, fair.

The second one was Soap, who purposefully bumped into you with his shoulder, hard, making you huff. Rude.

But who took the cake was Ghost, who came out fuming from the office, and used your distraction from Soap's push to grab by the neck of your uniform and harshly ram you against the wall behind you, making you hit the back of your head and causing you to wince. Great, he’s going to chew my head off.

"Listen, you little shit," He said in a bitter tone, his eyes filled with anger and locked on yours, as he, instead of looking down, pulled you up from your clothes to meet his height, making you tip-toe to keep up. “If I catch you even thinking about trying anything, I will personally make sure to find the shittiest hole and throw you there to rot. Do you understand?"

"Roger that," You answered in a grunt, to which he just gripped your uniform tighter, pressing you harder against the wall, making you hit the back of your head again.

"Try again," He said in the same menacing tone, his eyes still watching every movement, every twitch of your face.

"Yes sir," Satisfied with your answer, he immediately dropped you, making you stumble before he followed Soap and Gaz down the hall.

Nice work environment.

This was your official introduction to your new team for the next five years. Very promising.

You had to wait one day for this, as they had to return from your hometown back to base. Price let you settle down in your new room in the barracks while you waited and you spent your free day feeling self-pity, allowing yourself to cry and let it all out so you could act normal tomorrow.

Your new room was bare and dark, with a thin and not very comfortable bunk bed, an empty desk, a chair and scattered closed boxes with some of your things. Your other belongings were inside a storage unit, as Price made sure to clear your new flat and he told you very proudly how he managed to get your deposit back and return the flat back to the real-state company with some excuses before KorTac had the chance to “accidentally” burn down the place to cover their tracks, so good-bye to your new home.

You weren't going to unpack now, not when you're feeling like your world crumbled down and you're trying to put it together. Back in KorTac you were considered missing, you imagined how they must have reacted, probably an "oh, well," before they pretended you never existed while they ran your record through the paper shredder and gave your position to someone else. Both your computer and your phone were searched thoroughly in case you were being followed and to complete the humiliation of your situation, they arranged the picture for your I.D. card to be taken immediately, masterfully capturing your broken nose and your two black eyes in a lovely plastic card that you had to present to get everywhere in base.

Price showed you around the base, and it looked like every single other one you've been in. There were barracks especially prepared for members of the 141, but the gym and mess room was shared with the rest of the base. All the rooms were the same, and there was a common room with a TV, a small kitchen, a table, a sofa... is that a PlayStation?

After the introduction incident, things went quiet. Too quiet. It took you two days to notice that they were giving you the silent treatment. The concept was too ridiculous, and you really wanted to see inside their heads to see if they actually believed that by pretending you don't exist you would go away. I kinda wish it worked like that.

The first week, every time you crossed paths with them while going to your room, they didn't even look at you. Multiple incidents made you chuckle because of their absurdity. Like that time, you were resting in the common room, drinking tea on the sofa while you watched the Great British Bake Off and they would walk to the door, notice you were there and turn around in the spot.

Eating at an empty table was also a common occurrence, as they would gather in a table far away, talking between themselves. The portions here are huge, no wonder why they look like that.

The second week the passive-aggressiveness (and sometimes not so passive) came back. You were once in the kitchen making yourself a tea, waiting for the kettle to boil while listening to music, and you spotted Soap waiting for you to finish over your shoulder. Without giving it much thought while you hummed at the song, poured him a cup of simple black coffee from the coffee machine, and turned around, handing it to him.

"How do you know I take it black?" The Scot asked confused which made you turn again.

I stalked you and your team for the last eight months. But instead of saying that, you just offered him an innocent smile making him frown as he was probably realizing what you meant with that look.

"Fucking spy" He said glaring at you, but grabbed the cup you were offering, nonetheless. A small victory, I guess.

Another time, a few days later, you were walking to the training field for a drill.

"Who is this handsome boy?" You said in a cute tone, looking over the German shepherd wearing the military harness whose leash Soap was holding.

"Riley" Gaz answered plainly, and that made you glance at Ghost, arching your brow with an inquisitive look.

"Don't look at me, I didn't pick it" He answered before looking away.

"Then why...?" You were interrupted by the dog suddenly barking at you, making you flinch back. "Oh, I can see why.”

"Look! He knows you're a criminal. Such a good boy, Riley!" Soap said in a cute tone of his own, petting the dog and scratching his head to congratulate him.

Price insisted that as a group you should go to training and target practice together to strengthen the bond.

"What bond? They hate me" You answered in an exasperated tone the first time he said that.

"Can you blame them?" You rolled your eyes, after all, this started because you were following them around, intercepting their communications and basically invading their privacy and spoiling their missions.

"Well, technically no... but---"

"Then be patient."

That's all you were to them. A merc, a criminal, an intruder, a spy. The rest of the training went awful. They worked as a team, like clockwork, they already knew each other, their reactions, their positions...and you were just there, behind them. Fuck, I'm so dead.

Once it was over and Price announced that you were leaving for an off-the-records mission in a secluded island to retrieve drones that were stolen from an American Army convoy, before they hit the dark market. While in there, you were going to split into two teams, Soap and Ghost, and Gaz and you, to cover more ground and eliminate most of the hostiles.

Your nose was almost completely healed, only a bit sensitive and there were some fading bruises under your eyes still, but the gauze was removed a few days ago, and the nurses were the only ones that were kind to you, giving the first normal conversation you had since you arrived. After visiting the infirmary to get checked and get cleared to go back for duty, you went to the showers to freshen up after the training, and the warm water helped you consider your next course of action and to reflect that if you had to die in action, it wouldn't be because of them leaving you behind. You had to set your foot down.

It was lunch time, a nice opportunity to get them all together. As you enter the hall, you spot them already eating at their usual table. Your hair was down and still damp, leaving the back of your tank top slightly wet, you were wearing your tactical pants, and your heavy boots were loud under your determined pace as you marched to their table. As you were standing next to their table, they stopped talking and put down their food to look up at your standing figure.

"Corporal?" Gaz in an inquiring tone.

These are your superior officers now; you have to respect them...but you couldn't help the words coming out of your mouth as an exasperated rant.

"Listen, I don't care if you threaten me, I don't care if you call me a criminal, merc, spy or whatever the fuck you want to call me just to antagonize me. But I am here, and I will be here for five years, nothing we can do about it and believe me when I tell you I don't want this any more than any of you do. So, unfortunately I am stuck with you, and you are stuck with me." You said putting your hands down on the table, leaning in, their eyes are fixed on you, their faces stoic…however you noticed their eyes drifting from your face, subtle, but still evident. But you didn't let it faze you, as you kept going in the same firm tone. "And I couldn't care less if you run away from me like I am the bloody plague when you see me around the base. But once we are deployed, we are a team who have to trust each other and I won't be killed in action just because three soldiers wanted to play mean girls as if we are in fucking high school and if you want to bitch about it to someone go to Price, this was his call. All I can do is to kindly ask you if you could get off your own arses and be professional enough to complete the task and then you can go back to hate me.”

They don't say anything in return, eyes fixated on you, the tension could be cut with a knife, hanging thick in the air and you could feel the eyes of the other tables in the mess-hall burning in your back.

"Did I make myself clear?" You added in the same firm tone, knowing that you might be pushing your luck talking to them that way, and you see them exchange a look.

"Crystal clear, lass" Soap finally answered, and it sounded convincing enough to make you lean back, standing straight. Lass? That's a new one.

Without further to add, you returned back where you came from, their eyes following you as you left, and from the distance you heard them talking again.

You would be lying if you said there was not certain amount of anxiousness settling on your stomach as the day of the mission approach.

next chapter: Chapter four "C.R.O.W."

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

70 notes · View notes

phantomlemon348 · 3 months ago

Text

My family were sat in a traffic jam on the motorway. A police car drives by with sirens, presumably to what's causing the hold-up.

My mum: welcome to the case, inspector

Me: going hysterical in the back of the car

I mean we watched Vienna Blood together but I didn't realise she'd quote it!

#vienna blood #oskar rheinhardt #max liebermann #i need more vienna blood

14 notes · View notes

f1ghtsoftly · 2 months ago

Text

All The Women’s News You Missed Last Week

11/25/24-12/2/24

Feminist Activists fend off attacks from the U.S. far right in El Salvador, Sex Workers in Belgium get new labor rights, Latin American heads of state take on Trump and Musk and searching begins to find Indigenous femicide victims in Canada.

Women’s Rights:

Belgium's sex workers get maternity leave and pensions under world-first law

Judge rejects effort to stop transgender college volleyball player competing

Beatriz v El Salvador: the abortion case that could set a precedent across Latin America

Women in the News:

Florida woman sentenced to life for zipping boyfriend into suitcase, suffocating him

Woman driving drunk who killed bride still in her wedding dress sentenced to 25 years in prison

Mexican president says she is confident that a tariff war with the US can be averted

Brazil first lady uses expletive against Elon Musk at G20 event

Venomous snake slithers up driver's leg on Australia motorway

Chinese companies apologise for 'shrunken' sanitary pads

Bushra Bibi led a protest to free Imran Khan - what happened next is a mystery

Vietnamese tycoon in race to raise $9bn to avoid execution

Is Namibia going to elect its first female leader?

She fled Israeli bombing four times. It still found her

Male Violence:

Landfill search begins in Canada for remains of serial killer's victims

WATCH: 'It's important that we come together and stand for Nikita'

'People want nothing to do with him': How Ireland turned away from Conor McGregor

Harvey Weinstein hospitalized after ‘alarming blood test,’ attorney says

Rape helpline calls almost doubled after McGregor case

Femicide victim's family awaits killer's sentence, and change in Italy

Childcare worker who abused more than 60 girls jailed for life

Australian suspect in 1977 murders extradited from Italy

An ex-detective accused of abusing women died in an apparent suicide as his trial was starting

An Australia police officer who shocked a 95-year-old woman with a Taser is guilty of manslaughter

Man jailed for murdering girlfriend he set on fire

Arts and Culture:

K-Pop group NewJeans split from agency in mistreatment row

Gregg Wallace apologises for 'middle-class women' comment

Sean 'Diddy' Combs denied bail for third time in sex-trafficking case

Movie Review: Angelina Jolie is graceful and sharp as opera star Maria Callas in ‘Maria’

Review: Though earnest and visually dazzling, ‘Moana 2' is more dull than so shiny

Movie Review: ‘Wicked’ fans, rejoicify! Erivo, Grande shine in lavish adaptation of Broadway classic

Movie Review: A luminous slice of Mumbai life in ‘All We Imagine as Light’

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist #char on char #radical feminists do touch #radfem safe #radical feminist theory #radfems #radfem #All The Women’s News You Missed Last Week

10 notes · View notes

suchathrilltobeagirl · 9 months ago

Text

From my FIRST book (!), Night and Day ...

My First Date with a guy - Part Two

It was a Friday and I spent the best part of an afternoon getting ready! I can fully appreciate why it takes women such a long time to get ready; there is so much to do!

The bath is where a lot of this took place, with me wanting to remove all traces of hair from my legs, armpits and face and redo my 'bikini line', just in case! I also wanted to smell good, so I was using perfumed body scrubs, soaps, shampoo and conditioner. After my bath, I had a cup of coffee in my bathrobe, contemplating what I needed to do next. Nails!

I spent the best part of an hour manicuring my fingernails and toenails, applying nail varnish (guys, you need to understand how tricky this is and how long it takes for that 'polished' look!). Once my nails were done, it was time to start thinking wardrobe; what to wear on the outside, what to wear on the inside (undies!), accessories, shoes. I have to tell you that my wardrobe is full of lovely clothes; dresses, skirts, jackets, tops, blouses. This was no easy task!

Harry had requested I wear a lovely embossed gold dress that he had seen me wear in some of my photos but this dress is so short and, not knowing how far I would have to walk from the car to his office, in the interests of public decency, I decided to take the gold dress with me but wear another outfit for the journey down and into his office. I decided to wear a lovely blue 'sparkly' dress which has a matching bolero jacket. Still quite a short dress but not as short as the gold one Harry wanted me to wear! The dress itself is short and has spaghetti straps which defined my choice of underwear (to include strapless bra), tights (dress too short for stockings or hold ups!) and shoes (black high heeled open-toed sandals).

Stepping into that outfit was so exciting for me; I was going to be with a man! He would see me in this outfit, I would need to do my best girly walk in 3-inch heels, keep my knees together or legs crossed, act as a woman; hopefully he would like what he saw and we would be able to interact as man and woman. This was the most amazing thought!

I applied my make up ever so carefully, I wanted to look perfect for Harry; his first impression of me had to be 'wow'! Finally, I put my wig on and spent the best part of half an hour standing and sitting in front of the mirror; looking at me from all sides, to make sure I had created the illusion of my being a woman for Harry. After four hours of preening, I was ready . . . I now had to walk to my car, get in and drive off without being noticed by my neighbours!

Standing outside my house, locking my door, I felt the cold wind blowing up my skirt and between my legs. I felt my skirt 'ruffle' in the breeze. I shivered. I shivered because I was cold, because I was scared and because I was so excited! So what if someone saw me? I was and looked every inch a woman! I walked to my car, got in and started the most amazing drive of my life.

I forgot to mention that, as I walked to my car, one of my neighbour's security lights came on! It was like a floodlight and I froze not knowing whether to head back to the safety of my house or get in my car. Unless I made it to the car, I wouldn't be with a guy that night and that was the decider!

I got in my car, started the engine and pulled out of my driveway. To this day, I don't know if any of my neighbours spotted me but, as I say, to all intents and purposes I was a girl and they may have thought nothing of it if they had? It’s funny, I was actually hoping someone would spot me, I almost wanted to be caught as then my story would be OUT to all of my neighbours and I could be more open with them, like sunbathing in the garden with my bikini on, you know the drill!

Anyway, back to the date. I had driven many times while fully dressed but never on a motorway (aka freeway) . I figured I would be all right because no one looks at anyone while they are driving; no one takes any interest in other drivers, do they? Even if that is true, if there's anything you can almost count on while driving on a motorway, it's traffic congestion. I was OK while driving along, overtaking people, switching lanes, etc. but when I had to stop in the middle lane with people in cars literally a few feet away from me on either side, I was terrified! I daren't look to my right or to my left. Even the guy in front was looking in his rear view mirror! Here I was, fully made up, with flowing locks; I wondered what he thought of what he saw. Again, like most of us girls-born-boys, I lacked confidence in the amount of time I had taken with my makeup, I wasn't sure my hair looked right. But of course it did. People around me clearly thought I was a girl and this did wonders for my confidence!

As I came off the motorway and approached the town where Harry lived, I realized that I didn't really know where I was going. My SatNav had me heading right into town. Harry had mentioned a car park not far from his office. I was thinking 'how far is not far’? Harry worked in the centre of town, how far was I going to have to walk from my car to his office? There would be people about, could I cope with that? I was panicking! On the outskirts of town, I parked for a moment to check my hair and makeup (so difficult in those visor mirrors!). I then continued my journey until the lady on my SatNav announced that I had reached my destination.

TO BE CONTINUED

Katie xxx

#just a girl #night and day

21 notes · View notes

trekkingaroundasgard · 1 year ago

Text

Midnight Meetings (Clint Barton x Reader)

Summary: In the middle of the night you wait to meet your contact for the upcoming mission. He's not quite what you expected.

Gender: Neutral

Rating: Gen/Teen

Tags: SHIELD!Reader, first meetings, spies, eventual colleagues to lovers

Words: 1.1k

Note: The first part in a mini series. It will be updated... at some point.

@thehawkeyesbingo prompt: "Quick catch that flamingo, it stole my wallet"

The seat in the booth behind you creaked. You glanced to your left, attempting to steal a look at the man – you assumed, from the light smell of aftershave. However, a server stood directly in front of the mirrored surface where you could have caught a glimpse. You expected her to move any moment but she didn’t; apparently, flirting with the line cook was much more important than serving truck drivers cold, drip coffee.

Slowly, you reached into your jacket, fingers curling around the handle of your pistol. The last thing you wanted was to whip out a gun in the middle of the shitty motorway diner but it was better to be safe than sorry. Should things turn sour, the nearest exit was less than five steps away and your secondary escape remained unblocked.

You stiffened as the man moved, lazily stretching his arm across the thin surface that separated your booths. He twisted his head, not quite enough to bring him into your peripheral but close enough to your ear to whisper, “Catch that flamingo.”

The grip on your gun loosened. “It stole my wallet,” you responded quietly. If the situation weren’t so dire, you’d be suppressing an eye-roll about now. Whoever came up with these ridiculous countersigns had issues.

Without another word, he dropped a folded note into your open bag which you then gathered casually along with your coat. Leaving a few notes on the table, you walked out to the car park without looking up from the ground. It was only as you sat in your car, fastening your seatbelt, that you finally caught a look at the man you were to partner with through the diner window.

It was difficult to make out details from this angle, not helped by the reflection of the neon sign on the glass, but you saw enough to know who you’d be looking for later. Short blond hair, broad frame. Otherwise unremarkable. Just what you’d expect from a spy.

You unfolded the paper he’d given and frowned.

A New York pizza menu?

You were used to cryptic clues from both your sources and your superiors but even by those standards this seemed left field. Were you supposed to call the proprietor and ask for mighty meat? Perhaps it was a front for the New York branch of SHIELD, a way for agents in the field to get the information they needed. But what good would that do you half way across the world?

You looked at the leaflet again, this time giving it more than a confused cursory glance, and there you saw it. Scribbled in the bottom corner, a telephone number with a distinctly local calling code. A quick search returned the name and address of a crappy hotel about half an hour away.

It was probably a bit paranoid to assume you were being followed but you checked for a tail nonetheless before heading towards the hotel. The guy on the desk was half asleep when you arrived, a victim of perpetually unlucky scheduling judging by the dark bags under his eyes. He didn’t bother to check your fake ID, instead simply handing over a preprepared room key and pointing vaguely up the stairs.

The overhead lights were too bright for this time of night so you only switched on the bedside lamp. Perched on the edge of the bed, in the relative darkness, you pulled the case folder from your duffle bag and skimmed through the files once more. Halfway down the page, you heard a gentle knock.

You peered through the viewer and saw a blond man. Or, rather, a very intense close up of his nose and an eye. “I caught the flamingo.”

Clearly more tired than you thought, your mind blanked entirely on the correct response. It didn’t matter, though, you rationed, since he had already come to your door. Flicking the lock, you opened the door wide enough for him to step through before locking it again. Gesturing towards the beds, you said, “How does that one go?”

“Huh?”

“The countersign. I caught the flamingo…”

“He’s a slippery bastard.” He flopped onto the bed and dragged a large palm down his face. With a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside his bones, he said, “I don’t know. It’s not a real sign. I’m too tired to think. Just needed you to open the door. What time is it?”

“About two thirty.”

“Right.” The man sat suddenly, like someone had yanked on a puppet string and pulled him upright. “Well. It’s nice to meet you and all but I’ve gotta make some calls and get everything ready for tomorrow. You’ve got the files?”

You nodded towards the brown folder that you’d been reading before he interrupted.

“Great. I’ll brief you in the morning.”

He looked up and suddenly seemed to see you for the first time. Not fast enough to hide the interest that flickered across his gaze, he instead leaned into it. You’d have shrunk under such over attention from any other agent, especially one you’d just met, but there was something about him, something magnetic. The bedside lamp cast a warm light over his face, highlighting both the sharp features and the softness in his smile.

Resting back on his hands, you couldn’t help but mirror his appreciation. The bedside lamp worked doubly hard to emphasise the thickness and strength of his muscles. The midnight chill had set in but he hardly seemed bothered; with no jacket to hide beneath, you were given a full view of the tight pull of his shirt across his chest and the prominent veins along his arms. You doubted if you’d be able to wrap your hand around the muscles, so large were they.

He unashamedly let his gaze drop to your lips, your neck, your chest, before dragging his attention slowly back up to your eyes. “I’m Clint, by the way.”

You gave your name in return and felt your stomach twist when he smiled back. Forcing some semblance of professionalism into the ever shrinking space between you, you stretched out a hand and tried not to shiver at the sparks which danced across your skin when he shook it.

Slowly pulling it back, pretending that his simple touch hadn’t set your nerves on fire, you said, “I look forward to working with you, Clint.”

“Get some rest,” he said softly, finally pushing up off the bed and heading towards the door. “I’m in one-oh-six if you need me.”

There was an invitation there, in the inflection, the up tick of his grin, you were certain. Not tonight, you cautioned yourself. Maybe after the mission was over. Yeah. If he still looked at you the same way after this was done, after he learned what you really were, then you’d accept the invitation. Not a moment sooner, though.

#clint barton x reader #hawkeye x reader #nicola writes #marvel fanfic

40 notes · View notes

douglysium · 10 months ago

Text

Episode 11 TMP Quick Thoughts

Housekeeping and Prologue

Hello, this is Douglysium and you might not know me as that guy who wrote over 100 pages of analysis on the Eye (which can be read on Tumblr here (https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/735599414228484097/the-relationships-between-the-dread-powers-the) or Google Docs here (The Relationships Between the Dread Powers: The Eye- Knowledge is Fear and Ignorance is Bliss)) or as that guy who wrote an article on the Extinction (which can be read on Tumblr here(https://douglysium.tumblr.com/post/717929126195003392/what-would-avatars-of-the-extinction-be-like-a) and Google Docs here(What would Avatars of the Extinction be like?: A TMA Speculation)). Suffice to say I might be a bit of a TMA fan. Also, spoilers for TMP up until episode 10. You can read my ramblings on the last episode here (Episode 10 TMP Quick Thoughts).

However, Protocol offers a very unique opportunity and experience for me because I didn’t actually get into TMA until after it was over and I binged all of it. So this is my first time experiencing something even remotely similar to what the original TMA fans probably experienced when waiting for each episode week by week and slowly having to put everything together with the limited information they had. So I decided to throw my hat into the ring since this might be my only chance to do something similar. However, I’m working on some longer form TMA content so I can’t spend as much time on these articles giving a bunch of super detailed thoughts. I will try to keep these short and that inevitably might mean some could have questions about why I think or predict certain things and in those cases I would probably recommend you read at least some of the two articles I mentioned above to get a better idea of where I’m coming from. This also means I won’t be giving you a play-by-play of every single thing that happens in the episode so I encourage you to listen to or read them yourselves and feel free to comment if you feel something is important.

These reviews are probably going to end up focusing mostly on the Entities and their manifestations as they are what I have thought about the most and spent the most time interpreting and there’s been a lot of… interesting theories floating around about how the Entities are manifesting that I want to go over.

Finally, I’m just going to say it right now, spoiler warning for all of The Magnus Archives. I know that Jon and co said one could start with Protocol and be fine, and while that’s probably true, media like this tends to be made in conversation with or take into consideration what came before it in the irl chronology in order to connect them. While I’m sure you could skip The Magnus Archives, I don't really see the point of skipping over it when we are already getting characters from TMA showing up in TMP in Protocol. So to me it’s pretty clear that if we want to understand the full picture of TMP and all the things it is trying to say then we can’t just try to pretend TMA doesn’t exist or scrub it away. Just because you could understand what’s happening without the context in broad strokes doesn’t mean you're getting all the nuances.

These articles are meant to be quick and short so sorry if there’s typos and if I don’t address every possible question or possibility. I don’t want to repeat myself too much in this series outside of the prologue so be sure to skim some of my other articles.

Episode 11 “Marked”

And we are back, baby. I’ve actually started writing this literally the second after I finished listening to the episode. I was originally planning to wait until the weekend to write this but I’ve become so excited I can’t help myself, and Rusty Quill has been on top of posting the transcripts when the episodes comes out.

As always, the episode is being told to us through some sort of device. In this case we cut to Celia via her phone. The transcripts make it clear what’s happening “A busy motorway nearby. CELIA is asleep on grass. She starts to make slightly distressed noises as she stirs. A lorry roars past nearby and she awakes with a start.” She obviously seems frustrated upon realizing something has happened again but she realizes something as she begins to pat herself down looking for her phone or some other (most likely communication) device.

CELIA

“(to herself) Yes! Ok, phone in the pocket works. She starts tapping the screen.”

CELIA

“(to herself) If it had signal. She sighs in helpless frustration.”

CELIA

“Shit.” She stretches and starts trudging off towards the motorway.

CELIA

“Hold on, Jack, I’m on my way.”

Celia probably comes from or has some relation to the TMA universe but what this entire situation has to do with it, if anything, is beyond me. I don’t know who Jack is and Celia implies that this entire situation has happened before. It is once again confirmed however that whatever is listening through all the electronic devices in TMP doesn’t need said devices to have wi-fi or internet connection to be able to do so. Which was further emphasized by the fact that it was capable of listening through a tape recorder last episode.

Now that I think about it, did Celia need the phone for communication or some other thing. It’s possible that she was trying to access something like a GPS or online map to figure out where she was or where to go but it’s unclear. I can’t say if Celia implying this has happened before means she has woken up at this exact spot or random areas in general. Considering her questions to Sam about multiversal and time travel I wonder if she attempted some sort of experiment which led to her appearing in this location. Is Celia trying to get somewhere in particular? Maybe she’s trying to get back to the TMA universe or maybe she’s trying to get somewhere new?

We cut to the OIAR offices via one of the computers. I consider the interaction we witness in this scene to be another enlightening one about some of the possible dynamics at play in the OIAR workplace. Alice clearly cares strongly about Sam and they like to tease each other a lot. Sam seems a bit down about finding no clues about the Magnus Institute and Alice tries to cheer Sam up. The two talk about where Celia and Gwen are but neither knows where they are. It makes sense that they would wonder since Gwen seems like a stickler for rules and it seems weird that about half the people working in this office have disappeared with no notice. Gwen brought Sam and Celia coffee while also mentioning “I’ve got a mocha for Celia and I was really looking forward to pretending I “accidentally” forgot to order Gwen anything.” Once again, highlighting how antagonistic their relationship is and how Alice can go beyond just simple teasing and towards just being outright hostile or mean toward Gwen.

Alice seems extremely nervous and mentions “ just… I dunno. When I left the coffee shop, it felt like someone was following me.” Sam jokes “Sounds like maybe you were more bothered by that “soggy ruin” than you admit.” but Alice asks him not to joke about it, which shows that she’s extremely rattled. This level of fear from being watched sort of parallels the Institute in TMA with how Jon was scared from a feeling of being watched in the Institute. In MAG 39 (Infestation) Jon says “Because I’m scared, Martin!. Because when I record these statements it feels… it feels like I’m being watched.” However, it’s clear that what Alice is probably feeling is related to whatever escaped from the Institute in the last episode. I wonder if that being is somehow connected to The Eye. It is an Entity connected to both the fear of being watched and even followed or stalked. Not to mention the creature came from the Institute, a faction that was at least aligned with The Eye in TMA.

However, there’s an argument that this could just as easily be something related to The Spiral, Stranger, Hunt, or some other Entity entirely. The Institute had dealings with all kinds of Entities, not just The Eye. The most obvious example of this is their Artifact Storage, which collected objects connected to various Entities. So it’s possible this is some other Entity’s Monster or Avatar that was being sealed and / or researched. Considering all the alchemical undertones I even have to wonder if it’s some sort of artificial creation like some kind of homunculus.

Sam offers to walk with Alice home, to which she appreciates, and they get to work categorizing their statements. We follow the statement that Sam is listening to as exposited by CHESTER.

This statement comes from emails being sent from Gordon J to Alison Leshi regarding “Padstow civil cemetery exhumations.” In case you don’t know, an exhumation is “the action of digging up something buried, especially a corpse.” Gordon starts off by explaining to Alison that everything is going as planned, despite the sudden cold snap, due to proper planning. He also says “We also did some load testing of the ground near the cliff edge, and it looks like there’s only a few graves where the erosion means we won’t be able to use the Bobcat, and that’s few enough that my boys can do that by hand.” The first few days of this project have gone smoothly and David, their medical examiner, seems happy with their precautions.

Gordon mentions “with all the precautions we’re taking, and while we’ve certainly had our fair share of lookie-loos, there’s not been any sign of the protestors you were so concerned about stirring up. I guess it helps that no-one’s been buried here for over a hundred years, so it’s not like we’re pulling up granddad. The sailors sleeping here haven’t seen mourners since Queen Vic.” I think Gordon raising the possibility that there could be protestors is interesting. I wonder if it’s simply the fact that people might be upset at the destruction of these graves or if there’s some other reason? For example, someone might see it as an important historical site or maybe they view this project as harming the environment in some way? If you want a more supernatural reason, it could be that someone is afraid that disturbing the site could anger someone / something?

Gordon gets more personal and talks about how this job means a lot to them. They say “I know we can’t have been the cheapest company to put in a bid, but as local lads we’ve been coming to this graveyard all our lives (even if just to sneak some booze as stupid teenagers), and now that the cliff’s finally giving up the ghost (if you’ll pardon the pun), it feels right for us to be the ones taking it apart.” I looked up the phrase “giving up the ghost” and it seems like it can refer to “to stop trying to do something because you know that you will not succeed.”

Gordon says they’ll get back to Alison when the job is done but they send an email earlier than expected due to some unforeseen circumstances, and apparently David told Gordon to update Alison on the circumstances despite the fact that Gordon thinks it shouldn’t throw off their current schedule. They encountered some human remains that seem like they are in quite good condition. “...for context, the containers they’re buried in are of really varied quality. I’d say just under half were buried in decent coffins that are still in good enough shape to remove and transport unopened. For others though, the wood has rotted to the point where it’s pretty much impossible to keep the boxes together and some were just wrapped in oil cloth. This means we’re seeing, touching and moving a lot of human remains directly. Don’t worry, this isn’t about a health and safety thing – we have all the right gear and David’s making sure we follow procedure. It’s just that one of the graves had a body in that was too well-preserved for the age it should have been. Or at least, most of the skin was in extremely good condition. The back was completely covered in this complicated tattoo of a ship sailing across an open sea towards an open horizon. It was really impressive.” Take note of the tattoo since this isn’t the first time we’ve encountered a complex and very visually impressive tattoo in TMP and it’s going to come up again in this very episode.

David says that they need a second opinion and some tests since if the bodies have been buried more recently than 1908 it would mean that the cemetery is technically a crime scene for legal reasons. Gordon also mentions that the graves have been getting to him with “I’ll be honest though, I’m glad of the break. Taking up all these graves is starting to get to me a bit. I almost feel sorry for doing it. The waves are so close and getting closer. If I were a sailor buried here, I’d take some comfort in that. As you can see I’m getting morbid. Short break will do us all some good I think. Will update you when I hear word.” These feelings seem like they could relate to either The Vast, The Buried, or The End with the themes of coffins and being buried in a grave potentially tying into The Buried or End but the vast ocean possibly connecting to The Vast. But let’s keep going.

David starts acting weird and Gordon asks Alison to give David a nudge for the sake of the project. “He’s still working on that body we found and he’s stopped responding to my emails. I got him on the phone, but to be honest he doesn’t sound like he’s in any real rush to complete the job and while he’s worrying about salt water and tattoos, we’re out here sat on our hands and I’m paying the lads by the day. It’s almost enough to make you dream of sailing away for real. Like that poor fella’s tattoo. Saying that, I had another look at the photos David attached and I’m starting to think I might have been wrong about it. When I first looked, I thought it was hopeful, a crew sailing towards the sunrise. But looking again, the sun is lower than I thought, and there’s a shape in the water behind the ship. I think they’re being chased by something. Creepy eh?” So Gordon’s dream of sailing away could potentially point to The Lonely, especially given that the Entity also has a connection to the ocean and ships with Peter Lukas and the Tundra, but the whole being chased could relate to The Hunt. While Entities do chase things all the time I could see the fear of sharks or some large sea creature attempting to chase you as potentially relating to The Hunt. However, it could also potentially relate to The Vast with the idea of something massive lurking in the water, like a kraken or whale. There’s also an argument for something like The Dark with something emerging in the night as the sun sets. Well, assuming that the sun in the tattoo is setting and not rising.

And here’s where the tattoo thing comes up again. Gordon says “Oh, and speaking of tattoos, you remember you wanted an update on local sentiment about the move? Well, I don’t know if this counts as resistance – hell, I don’t even know if they’re local – but there’s someone started poking around the site asking questions. Big snake tattoo up their arm and a bunch of other ink. Wouldn’t give their name, but claims to be a big deal “online”. Don’t really know what that means, but they’ve been asking questions about the body.” The person with the “big snake tattoo” up their arm has a description that almost perfectly matches Ink5 from episode 2 (Making Adjustments). When Daria describes Ink5oul (Pronounced Inksoul) she notes that they had “an absolutely gorgeous floral serpent design running up their arm and into their neck that was so vivid it looked ready to slither off their skin and onto the chair.” It’s clear that Ink5 probably has an interest in tattoos, like the one Gordon saw on the body. This person also mentions that they are a big deal online, which would be true if this is Ink5 since we know that Ink5 is a famous tattoo artist online and even does streams. This could even explain why the person in question didn’t give their name since if it was Ink5 we are only aware of their online username. Gordon even mentions that Ink5 said “...the tattoo is an “Oscar Jarrett”, and that’s a big deal to some folks in that community – something to with Sutherland Macdonald whoever that is. Dunno if that’s quite what you were worried about but thought you’d want to know.”

`I did some light research and Oscar Jarrett doesn’t seem like a style or type of tattoo. Which points to the idea that Oscar is a person. Considering all the tattoos we are saying Oscar might be comparable to Smirke in some ways. In the sense that in the same way there was special Smirkean architecture there could be special Jarettian tattoos if that makes any sense. Tattoos that are designed to have supernatural effects of some kind. It’s also possible that Oscar simply learned and taught some kind of supernatural technique, kind of like the techniques that The Boneturner’s Tale could grant someone in TMA or how Martin sort of ended up learning how to “disappear” by following Peter Lukas’ attempt to connect him to The Lonely. Oscar Jarrett and Ink5 are definitely people to look out for in the future. Sutherland Macdonald surprisingly did yield actual search results. He is apparently “a prominent English tattoo artist in the late 19th century and early 20th century, and the first tattooist in Britain with an identifiable premises open to the public.” This makes Sutherland notable for the same reason someone like Smirke might have been in TMA. A historical figure who somehow learned and / or spread knowledge about the Entities. Again, it’s possible that there are Macdonald style tattoos in the same way there is Smirke style architecture. It could also be that the Oscar Ink5 is referring to is in fact the body with the tattoo that Gordon found and Gordon just doesn’t know what they are referring to. It could also be that there are multiple tattoo artists or Oscar is some student or follower of Sutherland in the same way people like Jonah, Maxwell Rayner, and Mordechai Lukas all had a connection to Smirke via being students or associates. In some characters even explicitly got the idea of possible rituals from Smirke and his research, despite the fact that most weren’t concerned with Smirke’s ideals of balancing the Powers.

Gordon considers calling the police on Ink5 due to how much the tattoo artist seems to be creeping Gordon and their team out but Gordon decides not to as to avoid potential backlash from the public. Gordon’s next email involves him giving condolences in regards to David, which implies that the reason he was taking so long with the reports was due to an untimely death at some point. I wonder if David’s death was related to something he came across on the bodies? It could be that there was some artifact or one of the bodies was actually alive? It could also be that if something is indeed up with the tattoos then the tattoos themselves may have had some sort of effect on David? Did Ink5 kill David? Was David the person Mr. Bonzo was sent to target in order to create some sort of opening for Ink5?

Gordon apologizes for the perceived unprofessionalism and says “My thoughts and opinions on maritime matters will no longer be included in my emails. In addition, I should be most grateful if you could see fit to provide myself with appropriate authorisations to contact the medical examiner’s offices to follow up with the cadaver that has been causing such consternation.” Based on Gordon’s next email it seems like Alison thought Gordon was making fun of them or acting condescending since Gordie states “Look, I was not “making fun of you” but I’m not sure what you want. I’m emailing an employer about my work and am getting accused of my emails being “unprofessional”. That’s the best I can manage. I haven’t been sleeping much recently. Weird dreams. Shapes in the water and that. And before you say that it’s “unprofessional” to tell you that I’m just giving an explanation, That’s all. I need you to contact the examiner again, he’s dragging his feet. Besides, I want to see the body again. I dug him up, he’s my responsibility. I just need to see it. I need to know what’s in the water.” Considering the possible change in behavior I wonder if Alison encountered something that made them scared and afraid of people not taking them seriously. I wouldn’t be surprised if Alison and / or David get their own statements in the future.

Gordon also mentions a lack of sleep due to “Weird dreams. Shapes in the water and that.” and also mentions “Besides, I want to see the body again. I dug him up, he’s my responsibility. I just need to see it. I need to know what’s in the water.” This desire to know and see something actually parallels an Entity like The Eye. The Eye, as I end up saying in every article, isn’t merely the fear of being watched but also being the watcher or seeing something you don’t want to. In MAG 200 The Eye is mentioned as having been born from the fear of one’s eyes showing them too much, and Gertrude mentions that The Eye is connected to a desire to know and understand even if in trying to do so you get hurt in the process. These themes also explain why Jonah can force information into the heads of people like Melanie and Martin. It’s the idea of knowing too much or being forced to witness things. Due to this The Eye also has a connection to, and tendency for cultivating, curiosity. Jonah mentions doing so to Jon with certain statements and we know he purposefully left files and information out to stoke Rosie’s more “nosy” personality traits. The Institute itself also sort of acts like bait for The Eye by attracting people looking for answers or closure via the information in its Archives or statements. Jon can also force people to give statements and thus make them relive and recount terrible events so that he can listen to them.

I’m bringing this up now because while I don’t think that what Gordon is going through is connected to The Eye the themes I am talking about will come up later anyway. Entities like The Eye also like to try to prey on the curiosity of people. I’m not saying Gordon is unjustified in being curious (even if I do find some of the behavior obviously strange) but that certain Entities have a precedent for preying on certain emotions or behaviors (like the desire to chase for The Hunt or anger for The Slaughter. No matter how justified that behavior may or may not be doesn’t always matter). You could also potentially relate some other parts of the statement to themes of The Eye. Most notably, the fear that protestors or other people might be observing the dig site, and the fear of being judged by the public. You could even point to Gordon sharing “too much” info to Alison with all the weird thoughts he’s having. Well, Alison seems to not like it, I’m not trying to say Gordon is crossing any sort of technical line or is even unjustified.

Gordon’s next email is titled “Examiner’s office break in” and Gordon insists that it was not him who broke into the examiner’s office and that Ink5 did it. “I saw them hanging around the office when I was waiting. Waiting so long just to see it, just to know what’s in the water. And they took it. They think they’re smart, but I saw them I know where they’re staying and if they think they deserve it they’re wrong. It belongs to the deep. I’m going to go get it and I’m going to find it and if they try and stop me I swear the ocean will claim us all. I can taste the salt and spray. It’s waiting in the water.” Once again a desire to know what’s in the water and the fact that Gordon is defensive of the idea that they might have broken into the office shows that Gordon is afraid what they said earlier about wanting to obtain the bodies might paint them as a suspect. The statement ends with

To: Alison Leshi ([email protected])

From: Gordon J ([email protected])

Date: January 20th 2020.

Subject: Re: Re: Examiner’s office

break-in

There was a problem delivering your

message to “[email protected]”

This email address is no longer in

service.

This statement is a little interesting because it feels like a lot of the stuff is more passive or in the background. For example, while Gordon is perturbed, Ink5 doesn’t attack or tattoo them directly. Gordon’s thoughts and feelings about the water could connect to various Entities. Most notably, all the water stuff could connect to the Vast, Buried, or Lonely. All 3 of these Entities have a notable connection to either water or the ocean. The Vast via the fear of large things with the immensity of the ocean as well as the things the could be in it, The Buried with the feeling of drowning or being trapped / crushed underwater, and The Lonely via boating and how isolated being alone on the open ocean can make you. Gordon’s desire to sail away could relate to The Lonely or The Vast while his comment about wanting to be Buried in the graveyard could be connected to well… The Buried. Not to mention his desire to put the supposed corpse back where it belongs, in the grave, could also relate to The Buried.

If I had to pick the most likely Entities here I would argue The Buried and Vast. If I had to chose between the two I would have to say the Buried. The Vast does have an emphasis on the depp ocean, and Simon Fairchild even attempted to perform a ritual using a submarine and the deep ocean, but Gordon’s desire to bury the bodies seems at least somewhat similar to Hezekiah Wakely in MAG 152 (A Gravedigger’s Entity) and his desire to make sure that people stay in their graves. In the statement Hezekiah mentions “To my mind there are far worse fates. But he has in his head an idea to begin fitting the graves I dig with these new “safety bells” that he has heard of, so that any as might be alive below ground might signal us above for rescue. I dread the idea. If it had been me in that coffin, destined for the peace below ground, I can think of little that I would hate more than the jarring, clanging of a bell pulling me from my rest.” and he also mentions weird dreams with “I had a dream, then. I dreamt a rain had come. A terrible bitter rain that chilled my bones and turned the soil around me dark and sodden. The walls grew damp and slippery, their firm shape lost as they began to slip and crumble. And then all at once they collapsed, the grave filling in a moment with a wave of mud and wet dirt. In a single terrible moment of utter terror, it was atop and around me, covering my face and filling my lungs with its awful choking sod.”

While the emphasis on the deep could easily relate to The Vast, one of The Buried’s nicknames is actually “Forever Deep Below.” So someone referring The Buried as “The Deep” or something similar would not be without precedent, especially given its connection to drowning, being trapped underwater, and deep water in general. Gordon also says “It belongs to the deep. I’m going to go get it and I’m going to find it and if they try and stop me I swear the ocean will claim us all. I can taste the salt and spray.” which could imply that in a way they believe the ocean will bury everything. You could easily relate some of this to The Vast with the idea that the ocean has existed longer and will outlast the erosion of the land.

One part I actually really liked in TMA, despite how little it came up overall, is all the different names people would use to refer to the same Entity(s). So I wonder if, assuming the existing Entities are around in some capacity, Entities like The Buried will be referred to with different names in the Protocol universe. It wouldn’t surprise me if people started referring to an Entity like The Buried as “The Deep” for example due to the idea of being trapped deep underground or in the ocean.

Like always, there are some overlapping themes that seem similar to other Entities. The tattoo possibly depicting sailors getting chased could relate to The Hunt, I already mentioned some possibilities with The Eye, and the emphasis on graves, and dead bodies could parallel The End.

Ink5's appearance in this statement is forcing me to consider some things. I maintain that the statement in episode 2 screams “This is The Flesh”, or at least something similar to that Entity, and I believed Ink5 to be connected to The Flesh. But I remember someone also raising the idea that the effects of Ink5 tattoos could vary, which I considered a very likely possibility since Ink5 doesn’t start tattooing until they are inspired by Daria mentioning that they are an artist. Implying that Ink5 was working off of inspiration and what they make and potentially even the effects of the tattoos could vary from person to person. If this is true that could mean Ink5 is more like Smirke and isn’t directly connected to (or loyal to) a single Entity, or Ink5 could be connected to multiple Entities somehow. Maybe the specific tattoo they gave Daria was connected to The Flesh in the same way Smirke’s architecture was connected to the Entities in a way Smirke himself wasn’t always. It’s still very possible that Ink5 somehow is connected to The Flesh but is also capable of interacting with aspects of other Entities somehow.

We cut back to the OIAR office and Sam also notices the topic of tattoos having come up again and asks Alice if there is a way to cross reference cases.

ALICE

“And? You already know the page to check the scores.”

SAM

“Yeah… but I just thought it might be worth noting somewhere that they might be linked. There’s this tattooist, and I think they might be”

ALICE

“What have I told you about thinking?”

SAM

“Don’t?”

ALICE

“That’s right.” Alice sighs.

ALICE

“(cont.) I don’t think there’s any way to mark cases as connected. They all come in standalone, that’s just how it works.”

Once again Alice’s whole “don’t think about it” vibe. I would argue the whole idea of “ignorance is bliss” and how knowing too much can hurt or scare you often relates to The Eye. I would argue that the OIAR or the computers are probably connected to The Eye, given all the statements and other stuff I mentioned previously, but I’m not saying Alice or Sam are secret Eye Avatars or something. What I'm trying to say is that The Eye likes to prey on certain behaviors, such as curiosity or a desire for answers, and Alice and Sam might have these traits. We know, for example, that Jon and Tim both ended up at the Institute because they were looking for answers about an encounter they had previously.

Alice sighing and then proceeding to honestly indulge Sam’s question is interesting and I think is another implication that Alice is probably more curious than she lets on. Realistically, she has probably been burned from having a similar mindset to Sam or seeing someone else asking too many questions but she consistently ends up indulging Sam’s curiosity or giving honest answers anyway, instead of simply shutting it down and moving on. There have also been times where Alice is noted as listening to something in the transcripts “despite herself.” Implying that sometimes she can’t help herself or her curiosity gets the better of her.

All the cases being sent in standalone sort of parallels the Institute in TMA and how disorganized the Archives were when Jon was using them (due to Gertrude). Even in TMA the statements would sometimes have recurring characters but they weren’t organized by topic or people involved in the case. The most we tend to get about the organization system of the statements is that it’s usually just sorted by date (which could be confusing if two statements have the same date) and sometimes follow-ups on cases were performed for more info and context. So obtuse organization systems that make it harder to connect various details or events aren’t unusual for TMA.

I also once again have to wonder if Sam is being shown certain events on purpose in order to stoke his curiosity or to get him to do certain things. I find the idea that literally every statement is random to be dubious but that doesn’t mean literally every statement is handpicked. Which makes me wonder, once again, what Sam and co’s jobs are meant to accomplish. Are they just supposed to be “an archive of fear” and witness terrible events or someone someone / something doing anything with the information or statements they are given or categorize?

Gwen enters the room and she seems to be in pretty bad shape since Alice says “Christ on a peddlebike, what happened to you?” and Gwen says “(setting up at her desk) Tube was delayed. Points failure.” Gwen also mentions that she had trouble sleeping, but Alice doesn’t seem to waste any time making fun of Gwen despite Gwen’s sorry state. Alice doesn’t seem to spare Gwen any of the concern she has shown characters like Sam and Colin. Sam tries to get Alice to ease up on Gwen but Alice doesn’t seem to let off the ribbing. Gwen eventually notices the third coffee Alice had gotten for Celia but mistakenly assumes that the third cup of coffee was for her.

GWEN

“(cont’d) (surprised) Hang on, did you get me a coffee?”

ALICE

“Uhh…

SAM

“Yeah. You like mocha?”

GWEN

“Yes. She takes the coffee carefully.’

GWEN

“Thank you, Alice.’

ALICE

“I… Sure. Whatever. Don’t get used to it. A slightly awkward silence.’

This interaction makes me wonder about some of the aspects of their relationship. Celia bursts into the room and Gwen grills her for being late (despite the irony of Gwen herself running late).

CELIA

“Sorry, sorry! I know, I know – there was an emergency at home I had to I’m sorry I’m late!”

GWEN

“Do you have any idea what the time is?”

ALICE

“I’m sorry, are you joking right now?”

GWEN

“I have responsibilities now, Alice. I need more of an explanation than just a “home emergency”.”

ALICE

“You arrived literally one minute ago!”

GWEN

“And I gave a full explanation for my lateness. Which, I might add, I didn’t actually need to do for a subordinate.’

CELIA

“It’s fine really’

ALICE

“No, it’s not. You don’t owe her anything! In fact, you should take her coffee as reparation.’

CELIA

“One of my radiators sprung a leak and flooded the lounge.’

GWEN

“I see. Well that’s understandable but don’t let’s make a habit of it shall we?”

CELIA

“Of course.’

GWEN

“See, that wasn’t so painful, was it Alice?’

Alice takes a breath for a devastating putdown.

SAM

“Let it go.”

ALICE

exhales and sips her coffee instead.

GWEN

“Luckily, I don’t think Lena’s noticed, so you should be ok. She’s not as laid back as I am.”

Alice chokes a little.

CELIA

“Good to know.”

GWEN

“Great, well if that’s everything you all really should get to work otherwise you’ll never get out of here. Don’t let me keep you.”

ALICE

“(muttered) I’d like to see you try…”

GWEN

“(already departing) I’ll be in Lena’s office if you need me. She walks off.”

CELIA

“You ok, Alice? It honestly doesn’t bother me.”

ALICE

“I can’t believe she drank your mocha!”

So it kind of seems like Gwen is immediately letting her new promotion go to her head a bit and has already taken the role of a stern boss. However, based on Gwen’s reaction when talking with Lena later and how shaken she is from Mr. Bonzo, it’s very likely that this is Gwen’s way of coping or trying to deal with stress and fear (not that it’s at all healthy). Gwen’s behavior seems to rub Alice the wrong way, especially since it easily comes off as hypocritical since Gwen was also running late. The only difference being that Gwen is now Celia’s superior. This whole situation makes me wonder if any particular person is specifically at fault for Gwen and Alice’s sour relationship. Sure, Alice does come off as extremely mean to Gwen but I wonder if Gwen did something in particular, tried to strong arm Alice, or something else.

Gwen does appreciate the hypothetical gesture of Alice buying her coffee and it’s weird that despite all their bickering Gwen seems to immediately assume that the fact the coffee is for her and from Alice is a likely possibility. I wonder if Gwen has a different view of their relationship or just doesn’t care? In a previous episode Gwen mentions that Alice left “talkers” on to mess with her but I wonder if Alice simply left the statements running so she wouldn’t have to listen to the voices talking and Gwen merely assumed it had to do with her. This could point to the possibility that Gwen has a bad habit of assuming things are about her sometimes or even being a bit self-centered but I’m not sure. It is still possible Alice did in fact leave talkers to mess with her. I wonder if they had a more amicable relationship in the past? I also if Gwen does genuinely think of herself as being more lenient or forgiving than Lena and, by extension, sees herself as tossing Celia a bone.

Gwen leaves the others to their work and goes to talk with Lena. Gwen is clearly upset by her encounter with Mr. Bonzo. Gwen insists that the thing she saw couldn’t have been Mr. Bonzo because Bonzo is just a character played by a guy in a suit. Not to mention that the Mr. Bonzo at Nigel’s house apparently had skin, and appeared both sagging and sweaty. Lena assures Gwen that this was in fact Mr. Bonzo by saying “...He is one of our Externals” and “I’ll grant you that Mr. Bonzo is one of our more… obviously grotesque Externals but I assure he is a valued asset.” This implies that not all the Externals the OIAR works with are as monstrous as Mr. Bonzo. Which could mean that the organization works with various Avatars and Monsters, or at least some of the Monsters they do work with are more humanoid (similar to how the Distortion took on the appearance and personalities of people like Michael and Helen).

GWEN

I thought he was going to kill me!

LENA

“But he didn’t, which means you’ve passed the first part of your probation. Congratulations. Did you scream?”

GWEN

“What? No!”

LENA

“You should. It really helps one cope with the more affronting aspects of the job. And they usually like it.”

GWEN

“What was in that envelope I gave him?”

LENA

“A name and an address.”

GWEN

“But for who?”

LENA

“I’m sure you’ve already worked that out. But just in case you haven’t, keep an eye on the case loads over the next few days. It should become abundantly clear.”

GWEN

“I don’t understand.”

LENA

“Yes, you do.”

GWEN

“But… why?”

LENA

““Why” comes later. For now, it’s best you try to process the “what”. I’ll let you know when I have another liaison assignment for you.”

GWEN

“(defeated) I… Ok.”

Gwen opens the door.

LENA

“Oh, and Gwen?”

GWEN

“Yes?”

LENA

“Get some sleep. You look dreadful. Gwen closes the door.”

So here, Lena outright admits that Gwen could’ve died. Last episode I wondered if Nigel apologized to Gwen in case Gwen ended up hurt or killed. Lena’s comment about screaming confirms once again that the Entities are probably still feeding off of fear. We know from TMA that while a lack of fear can keep you safe, displaying fear only for it to wane overtime can cause the Entities followers or monsters to get bored or unsatisfied and just attack you directly if they know that doing so will make you scared.

The fact that Lena says that Gwen should know who’s address and name was in the letter given to Bonzo makes me wonder. It’s possible Lena knows that Gwen simply checked the letter out of curiosity or came across some statement with clues. It’s also possible that at least some of the statements the OIAR gets are somehow related to the organization’s Externals. Lena even says “I’m sure you’ve already worked that out. But just in case you haven’t, keep an eye on the case loads over the next few days. It should become abundantly clear.” Which could imply that at least some of the statements Gwen and her coworkers (I mean subordinates) sift through could have to do with the OIAR’s externals. Maybe it’s the OIAR’s way of following up on their agents or checking the results of their assignments? Or maybe it’s how the OIAR decides where and when to send their Externals? It could also just be The Eye feeding off of the fear present in statements again (something we know it’s prone to do). It could be that the Externals do their job and The Eye or some other Entity squeezes some extra fear out of what they do by archiving things related to the job. Is the OIAR working with others to try to start another mass ritual, or is it trying to stop possible rituals? Maybe their goal has something to do with some of the alchemical symbols present in TMP (such as the logo)?

Lena comes off as extremely cold in this interaction and it’s clear that Lena’s earlier assessment of Gwen might be right, Gwen is not at all prepared for this and doesn’t exactly know what she’s getting into. But this also makes me wonder what happened to the previous Externals Liaison. Did they die? Did they get promoted / demoted? Are there other Liaisons Gwen hasn’t met yet? If there aren’t who was communicating with things like Mr. Bonzo before Gwen took the position? Was Lena just delivering the letters herself? As always, there’s a lot of questions.

Conclusion

There’s a lot of stuff up in the air but currently whatever is going on with the Externals has grabbed my curiosity the most. Mostly in regards to what they could be doing and why. Is Ink5 an External? Was Mr. Bonzo sent to take care of David to make an opening for Ink5 or was Mr. Bonzo sent somewhere else that will show up in a later statement? Most of the stuff I say are possibilities I’m raising but my current guesses about what’s going on are 1. Smirke’s 14 is still around in some capacity (The Extinction could be too, but there’s no evidence one way or the other for that Entity being around) and these Entities are probably the same ones from TMA (if not they are extraordinarily similar) 2. Celia is probably from the TMA universe or at least has some connection to it 3. The OIAR is probably connected to an Entity like The Eye 4. For whatever reason the OIAR (and potentially other parts of the government) are working with various factions tied to the Entities. Whether they are using these monsters and people to fight more dangerous threats or for some other reason I cannot say. Maybe they are trying to set up a new ritual where all the Entities hold equal power? Or maybe they are actually trying to stop future rituals / threats? Who knows.

#TMA #TMAGP #The Magnus Archives #The Magnus Protocol #Theory

20 notes · View notes

starlightshadowsworld · 11 months ago

Text

You don't know what I'd do (for you) Part 3

Part 2 Part 1 and the Prequel, Me and the Devil (Walking side by side)

Part 4

(tw for panic attack and well Atsushi survives what should've been his death and thinks he shouldn't have.)

Atsushi knew something was wrong when he gained awareness and could hear beeping. It sounded familiar but he couldn't place exactly what it was.

But that was beside the point, unless the afterlife was in fact taking place on one busy motorway, Atsushi shouldn't be hearing any beeping.

Perhaps it was Fyodor in acting his vengeance from beyond the grave. Atsushi had died while pissing him off and now he would never know peace again.

It definitely felt like the kind of petty shit the Demon would do. But if that was the case, Atsushi's eyes wouldn't be closed now would they?

When Atsushi opened his eyes he expected many things. The two most constant companions in his life, pain and his cage.

He found neither.

Atsushi wasn't in the cage, wasn't in the cell in Fyodor's base. He was laying in a bed in Yosano's infirmary. He should know, he'd been in here more than most.

But that didn't make any sense?

Was he seeing things again?

But that didn't explain why the blanket felt so soft against his skin. His body was heavy, like it was made of lead. All his energy was drained.

But this wasn't like earlier, when he'd been unable to move because of injuries and restraints.

Maybe he was losing it, again and his brain was trying to trick him into thinking he was safe. It didn't sound like his brain but Dazai had been in his cell.

And was currently sat in the corner of this room, so maybe?

'... Wait what?' Atsushi blinked in suprise, looking to the corner of the room. And sure enough, there was his mentor.

Dazai was sitting in a chair reading his Complete Guide to Suicide book. But even from here Atsushi could tell he wasn't paying attention to it.

But that only begged the question, what was Dazai doing here? He'd seen Dazai before, a trick by his drug filled brain when he was scared. So why was Dazai here now?

"Idiot boy" Atsushi flinched, looking away from Dazai to the familiar face of the Headmaster.

The man's face was twisted in its eternal frown, an anger in his eyes that persisted even now. "You can't even put it together can you? You're so pathetic, you couldn't even die properly."

Atsushi froze.

... No...

It was at that moment Atsushi's gaze lowered to look at himself.

He felt his heart stop as the pieces fell into place. He was connected to a heart monitor, that was what was making the beeps.

He wasn't imagining this, was he? Atsushi really was in the Agency's infirmary.

'... But that's impossible..' Thought Atsushi, eyes widening in terror. If he was in the Agency, that means he'd been found.

It means he survived.

Atsushi thought back to earlier, to the moment Fyodor learned the truth.

How Fyodor's frown turned into an amused chuckle. "I see, you never planned on giving me the book after all." Atsushi glared back at him in defiance. "You won't have it. Not you, not anyone else."

The Demon had stood before Atsushi, and clapped for him. "You really are you're mentors protege, aren't you?" Fyodor smirked at him, cold and unwavering.

"The Cannabalism ability may be beyond my reach now... But I have ways of making you give me what I want."

His eyes shone with mirth. "And I assure you, I don't need you alive for it."

That's where Fyodor was wrong. He'd miscalculated and it took everything Atsushi had to keep a straight face.

He couldn't give anything away, and he hadn't. No matter how much pain Fyodor's clown inflicted upon him. Atsushi had bit his lip down so hard but even he couldn't silence his screams.

Something the clown seemed to take amusement with, as did Fyodor himself.

But never did Atsushi beg for his life. Never did Atsushi beg for for the pain to the stop. He didn't at the Orphanage and he wouldn't now.

And never did Atsushi reveal that Fyodor was wrong. That after everything with Shibusawa, the tiger couldn't be seperated from Atsushi because it is him.

Not even in death could seperate them, but Fyodor didn't know that. Atsushi would die and the key to finding the book would die with him.

... But Atsushi was alive...

That had not been part of the plan. Atsushi wasn't supposed to survive. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Atsushi surviving meant that that the book could still be found. It meant that now Fyodor would go after Atsushi personally and his friends would be caught in the crossfire.

He couldn't breathe. He felt like he was going to explode. That his heart was going to burst out of his ribcage. How could he have been so stupid.

"Atsushi!"

The heart monitor was blaring now, having translated his panic for all the world to hear. Dazai was at his side in an instant. The delight at seeing his mentee awake fading into concern.

Dazai supposed it made sense for Atsushi to wake up in a panic, given how they found him. But it didn't make it any better, at least with this he knew how to help.

"Hey Atsushi" Dazai smiles softly at him like Atsushi world wasn't imploding around them. He took in deep breathes in and out and motioned for Atsushi to copy "In and out, you see that?" Atsushi slowly began to copy Dazai, calming down.

Dazai smiled, encouragingly. "There you go, in and out. You're okay, you're safe now." That appeared to be the wrong thing to say as Atsushi shook his head, his eyes blurry with tears.

"I'm not..." Dazai softened, gently running a hand through his hair. "You are, you're here at the Agency. No one can hurt you here." He grins "they'll have to get through all of us."

Dazai wasn't kidding about that either. Kenji was guarding the door with a sullen face and a stop sign. If anyone tried to hurt Atsushi, they'd be spending a lot of time in the hospital.

And if somehow they got past Kenji... Well... Good luck.

Atsushi shook his head again. "Not supposed to be..." He whispered but Dazai hears him clearly. Dazai blinked in suprise, frowning. "What do you mean, Atsushi?"

Atsushi hates that he wants nothing more than to curl up in Dazai's arms and sob.

He hates that his mentor is being so kind to him like Atsushi hasn't ruined everything. Everyone was in danger because of him, why was he being so kind?

It made Atsushi want to scream.

"You shouldn't have come... You shouldn't have come, I was supposed to die." He looks Dazai in the eye, eyes wide in panic and terror begging him to understand.

"You should have left me to die."

Dazai feels like his heart stopped. Sure he remembered Ranpo and Akutugawa saying Atsushi planned a one way trip... But to hear it from him.

He'd failed him. How could he have let Atsushi fall so far? 'I'm going to fix this, if it's the last thing I do.' He thinks, before pulling Atsushi into a hug.

Atsushi freezes, knowing he should wiggle out of it. But he's exhausted, he's scared and Dazai is here... He's really here and there's no small part of Atsushi that isn't so happy to see him.

"Atsushi, I want you to listen to me closely. If I get anything wrong, correct me, okay?" Asks Dazai, his voice light and soft. He waits until Atsushi gives him a small nod before continuing.

"I think you've set yourself up on an impossible task trying to save everyone. And gotten yourself tangled up and scared." He gently runs a hand through Atsushi's hair as he speaks.

"And I know why you did it, but I really wish you didn't. I know you want to take this all on your own. That you blame yourself, but this not a burden you can bare alone. And I'm sorry Atsushi but I've gotten rather attached to you. None of us want to lose you."

And wasn't that the truth, Dazai lost Atsushi for all of a second when his heart stopped. He had Atsushi's bloody hand print on his face, his mentee's last words being to comfort him.

Dazai wasn't going to lose him again.

"Can you let us save you now?"

Atsushi wants to refuse, because he knows it has to be him. He's the guide, he's the one Fyodor's after all. But Atsushi doesn't want to go back there. He's tired, so so tired...And he's drowning but Dazai's here.

He was dying and Dazai, he realises now that Dazai was real. He had saved him abs Atsushi had felt so relieved to see him.

He didn't want to do this alone.

"Okay" Says Atsushi, looking up to face Dazai. His mentor smiles at him, genuinely and kindly. "Good, and I promise you that Fyodor isn't going to get anywhere near you again."

Redemption arc be damned. Dazai would murder that man himself if he ever got near Atsushi.

And somehow that's enough for the tears, the fear and everything else Atsushi's been bottling up since this whole ordeal started, to crumble.

He was safe.

He was safe in the Agency and Dazai was holding him. He wasn't dying, he didn't need too...He was gonna be okay.

And every time Dazai ruffled his hair Atsushi was reminded this was real.

#long post #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd

32 notes · View notes