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justanothermemestrider · 10 days ago

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"That's My Girl" - Jago Sevetarion x F! Reader

Ask thee and ye shall receive. Here's a fic based on the sparring headcanon from my Sevetar Assorted Headcanons. The sypnosis: Sev takes you down to the training mat to help you train some sword craft, and things get... spicy

Hope yall ready for some heresy.

CW: NSFW, MDNI

Apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

"I really don't see why this is necessary."

"Really?" Jago asks. "Sweetheart, have you seen what the people on this ship are like?"

"Well yeah, sure," you say. "But I've got you. And if you're not around, Talos and Cyrion always look out for me."

Jago clicks his tongue, twirling the wooden swords he's currently holding in both hands as he considers your words. "That is true," he admits. "But even then, there is always the chance- no matter how small- that you may be caught out alone on this ship." He offers you one of the swords with a smile. "As such, you need to prepared."

You give him a long, unamused look, eyes shifting between his proferred wooden sword and wry, lopsided smile. The skin of his face is a mess of scars and callouses, but underneath all of that is a strong, almost handsome visage with broad cheek bones and a square jaw. His hair is slicked back save for a handful of thin bangs that tumble over his forehead to frame his eyes and nose. Jago's smile broadens into a grin. "Come on, little bird," he says. "If not for you, then for me?"

You let out a sigh. Without a word, you take the sword from his hand.

"Atta girl," Jago chuckles. He steps away from you, then surprises you by sheathing his sword. His grin suddenly turns feral. Before you can ask, he unclasps the front of his tunic and lets it drop to the floor. His torso, like his face, is ravished by scars, though these are far larger and more vicious looking. Bolter holes, chain blade slashes, stab wounds and burn marks; Jago wears the marks of all of these and even more. Black neural ports run down his shoulders and chest, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. But, just like his face, his scars and cybernetics do little to detract from the beauty of the body beneath them. You can't help but take a moment to drink in the sight of him; the twistedly gorgeous demi-god you call lover and protector. At your staring, Jago chuckles. "You may remain robed if you wish," he says. "But among Astartes, it is tradition to spar as... unencumbered as possible."

"Oh really?" you ask, clearly unconvinced.

Jago laughs again. "Eyes up, little bird," he orders. "Raise your blade. We begin now."

Unable to keep the grin off your face, you does as he commands.

"You remember what I've taught you?" he asks.

You give your sword a cursory twirl. "Of course I do." As if to emphasise the point, you hold it out in front of you in a defensive stance.

Jago gives you a satisfied smirk. "Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" With that, the Night Lord lunges.

You slip to the side, parrying with your sword. The wooden blades crack against each other like bone, and the force of the impact sends painful vibrations rocketing up your arms. Grunting, you take several, darting steps back, but Jago refuses to give you any such breathing room. Several more time, your training blades clash. You know Jago is holding back; he has to, for if he didn't, his first strike would've likely snapped your arms in half. But even with his abilities actively reduced from demi-god levels, he's still faster and stronger than any baseline human could dream of being. Already, your breathing hard. Sweat pouring down your brow as your heart pounds relentlessly. Jago, on the other hand, has barely broken a sweat.

"Don't be shy, little bird," he says the next time the pair of you disengage. "You can't defend forever."

Between heavy breathes, you scowl at him. "Easy for you to say, Son of The Night Haunter, you."

Jago flashes that wry, crooked smile of his from the other side of the training mat. "No warrior is perfect," he says. "Even Astartes have certain aspects that can be exploited."

"Such as?"

"Just look at me, sweetheart. Two metres tall and half a tonne in weight, all of that being bloated muscle and reinforced bone." Jago holds his arms out wide. "What does that make me?"

"I don't know," you huff. "Strong?"

"Nope," says Jago

"Unbeatable?"

"Hah! I wish."

"Sexy?"

Jago laughs. "You flatter me, little bird. But no. Not the answer I am looking for."

"What then?"

The night lord sighs in mock exasperation. "It make me big," he says. "It makes me heavy. And no matter how fast or strong I am, it makes me very much at the mercy of physics and biomechanics. But you-" he points at you with his sword. "-my love, you are not so much. You are lighter. Your body, more flexible and maneuverable. Therefore, such natural laws are far more lenient on you than I. You understand?"

After taking a moment to think, you believe that you do. You tell Jago as much.

"I knew you would." Lowering his sword, Jago bares his teeth in a grin. "Now. Prove it to me."

Raising your sword, you approach him at a slink. Stepping on the balls of your feet, wooden blade out and pointed at his chest. Jago flurries his own weapon. Ripples of tension feather through the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He holds his sword low, clearly trusting himself to be fast enough to raise it should you choose to attack. But it is that very reflex that you intend to exploit.

With the technique of a fencer, you thrust at Jago's throat. Just as you'd guessed, he brings his sword up and around to block. But the moment you see his arm move, your strike turns into a feint. Ducking underneath his arm, you lock your blade around his shoulder and launch a savage kick into his knee. In the same moment, you wrench hard with your arms, turning your wooden sword into a lever over which you toss Jago to the ground. Of course, such a throw would never work in a true one-on-one fight with an Astartes. But against another baseline? Absolutely, it would. And, since he is currently moonlighting as such, Jago lets you take him down. The mat shakes as his body hits the ground. Before he can move to get up, you leap on top of him. Straddling his waist and bracing the edge of your mock sword against his throat. Your arms tremble from exertion, lungs burning as you breath hard and fast through your mouth. But as exhausted as you are there's a smile on your face. When Jago locks eyes with you, it only grows broader.

"That's my girl," he says, his adam's apple bobbing against your blade as he speaks.

In spite of yourself, his praise makes you giggle. "Does that mean I win?" you ask.

"Almost," Jago says. "But you've forgotten one very important thing."

You raise an eyebrow. "That being?"

Between your legs, you feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out. You also feel him bending his knees and planting his feet on the floor. "When your opponent is so much larger than you..." Jago trails off. Then, quick as a snake, he grabs your sword with one hand and seizes your arm in the other. Bridging his hips, he throws you off him, sending you sprawling onto the mat. You yelp in surprise as Jago reverses your mount and straddles your hips. His weight is immense; your pelvis feels like it's being crushed beneath an anvil, while your legs and hips are completely and utterly pinned. Jago leans over you, grabbing your sword hand by the wrist while bracing his own sword hand on the floor right beside your ear. Lips peeling back into a predatory smile, he finishes his earlier warning. "...You must never take them to the ground."

Any outward observer would expect you be terrified, but in truth, you only feel flustered. Even after all this time, being this close to him- face millimetres from yours, naked, muscular body pressing against your own- still has your stomach winding itself into knots. And from the bulging hardness you can feel pressing against your lower belly, Jago is feeling the same way.

"This had nothing to do with training me, did it?" you whisper.

"Of course it did," Jago replies. "Your safety is the single most important thing to me. You know that."

"Fine. But it wasn't the only reason you brought me here, was it?"

For the briefiest of moments, Jago's smile turns sheepish. "Alright. You may have me there." Leaning closer still, he touches his forehead to yours. "You know how much I love a woman who can kick my ass."

You reply by kissing him. Tilting your head back so as to give you access to his lips, then locking them within yours with rough and enboldened hunger. Jago immediately returns it in kind. He drops his sword and releases your wrist, scooping one hand up underneath your waist while gripping you jaw with the other. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies fall into place around each other. Your legs wrapping tight around Jago's waist as he pulls you closer still. The heat between your legs presses the hardness between his, and even through the fabric of your clothes, the friction is enough to make you whine. The sound elicits a growl from Jago. You feel the hand at your jaw release, then slide down your front until it reaches the waistband of your trousers. He drags them off you, followed by your underwear. You gasp when the cold air kisses your exposed sex. But quickly, the sound devolves into a moan as Jago presses his fingers into your clit. Electricity bolts through your body. The heat in your core swells into an aching throb. You feel yourself growing wetter, hotter, more desperate and breathless. You claw your fingernails into Jago's back and let out another pleading moan.

"Jago..."

"I know, sweetheart," he rumbles. "But I've gotta slick you up first; don't want to hurt you."

You reply by bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades and digging your fingers into the neural ports embedded in the muscles there.

An involuntary shudder rips through Jago's entire body. His limbs buckle, sending him sprawling flat against your front. The sound that falls from his lips can only be described as a whimper.

"Oh, I see," he growls once he recovers. "And here I was thinking you liked me best when I was nice."

"Most of the time," you answer. "But not today."

Jago bares his teeth in a smile that's both affectionate and utterly lusting. "As you wish, little bird. But don't say I didn't warn you."

You open your mouth to reply, but before the words can reach your voice, Jago locks his hand around your throat. He unclasps his breeches, finally freeing his hard, aching cock. He lines his hips with up with yours, and with a single, savage thrust, drives himself all the way inside of you.

A cry bursts from your lips. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate his length, but even then, the fit is impossibly tight. Jago moans into your ear. The hand around your throat tightens. Without skipping a beat, he starts moving. Thrusting his hips hard, filling you up, pinning your clit against his public bone and rubbing it to the point of pain. Sparks and black spots burst within your vision. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every one of your exhales is a whimper or a moan. Ecstasy doesn't come close to describing this feeling. This raw and primal pleasure that's got your every nerve in a chokehold. Meanwhile, Jago growls and snarls like a beast in rut. His breathing is loud and laboured, his every muscle bulging against his sweat-slick skin. The hand he hasn't got around your neck is pressed hard into your lower belly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper still.

The coil in your belly reaches critical mass. You can feel your orgasm coming, just on the horizon, but not quite there yet. There's no way in hell you could string together a sentence, so instead, you say his name. Once again finding Jago's shoulderblades with your fingers and clawing them into his neural ports.

"Jago... Jago..."

Jago's body shudders again, and a long, almost pained whine interrupts his snarling growls. On his next thrust, he rears up onto his knees, scooping up your leg with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder. The sparks in your eyes become stars. The coil in your belly becomes agonisingly tight. Your spine arches until it's not longer touching the ground and you let out another, desperate cry.

It's then that Jago decides to say something. The words are whispered in your ear, barely comprehensible amidst his growls and moans. But they're there. And they are what finally send you over the edge.

"That's my girl."

Orgasm grips you like a lightning strike. You throw your head back as a scream of ecstasy erupts from your throat. Every muscle in your body clenches and your walls squeeze Jago so tight it makes his voice crack. His rhythm suddenly falters. He releases your throat to claw his hand into the floor. With a throat-tearing roar, Jago finally hits his release, burying his face into your shoulder and pumping you full of his hot, thick seed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as you both ride out your orgasms.

When yours finally fades, you collapse against the floor. You still have the energy to gasp at the feel of Jago pulling out, but aside from that, you're completely and utterly spent. Means when Jago rolls you onto your side and drags you into his body, you simply let him. Both of his hearts are beating hard; you can feel their twin pulses pounding against your ear. He doesn't simply hold you, either, but rather he's actively pulling you close. Pressing you hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight as if he were trying to shelter you or keep you from being dragged away. His grip is crushing. His skin and hair both slick with sweat. Gently, you reach a hand up to his face and brush your fingers against his cheek. "Careful," you says softly. "Squeeze me any tighter and you might just break something."

You hear his breath hitch. Slowly, the pressure around your waist and shoulders diminishes. "Sorry," Jago mutters. The extra gravel in his voice confirms what you'd suspected from his pulse, that he's still coming down from his high.

Tilting your head up a little, you press your lips to his collarbone, then nuzzle your face into his chest. "It's okay. I forgive you. This time, at least."

Jago smirks, but says nothing. After a handful of quiet moments, you hear his heart rates finally begin to settle. His breathing deepens, then levels out and the residual tension in his body releases.

You choose that moment to caress his scarred cheek again. "I love you," you whisper.

His chest vibrates against your ear as he chuckles softly. "By the Warp. I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Do you doubt me?" you ask playfully.

"What? No! Of course not."

"You do not feel the same, then?"

That actually makes him growl. "Of course I do." The grip around your waist and shoulders tightens. "You know that."

You reassure him with another kiss to his collar bone. "So, why, then?"

"Why?" Another rumbling laugh. "Sweetheart. Look at me. Recall who I am and what I've done."

Retracting your hand, you start tracing one of the dozens of scars running down his chest with your finger. "I see Jago Sevetarion," you say. "The man who cares for me and protects me." You let your head fall against him, eyes slipping shut. "I see the man I love."

Your earnestness seems to take him by surprise, for he does not reply nor react right away. He doesn't seem to know how to. All he can think to do is pull you closer still and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

Sorry if I've missed you. If I have or you wanna be added, please let me know :)

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miss-musings · 8 months ago

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Crosshair's 10 Most Impressive Shots in "Star Wars: The Bad Batch"

We're now officially three weeks removed from the series finale, so I thought it'd be a fun time to look back at our favorite sniper and review some of his most impressive shots.

Note, I'll be ranking items from "The Bad Batch" TV show only, so there won't be any entries from "The Clone Wars" S7.

I did get a lot of input from folks here and on Twitter, and a lot of people ended up saying the same ones. I put them on here along with a few of my own.

As for how I determined the order, I judged based on a combination of: the distance of the shot, the size of the target, the speed of the target (if applicable), other external factors like light conditions and weather, and "internal" factors like Crosshair's physical and mental state.

You're free to disagree with which ones I picked and how I ordered them. It's all subjective.

Also, I don't proclaim to be an expert in marksmanship nor am I a military sniper. But, I do have a general baseline for how difficult Crosshair's shots would be IRL. I used to go shooting with my dad a lot at both indoor and outdoor ranges, and I was pretty decent at both pistol- and rifle-shooting. So, that's what I'm using to judge Crosshair's shots.

With that out of the way, let's dive in with #10:

10. Killing Lt. Nolan in 2.12 "The Outpost"

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I probably wouldn't have put this one on the list for myself, but I had multiple people suggest it should make the cut.

While this shot is very important narratively, it's not very impressive from a purely technical perspective.

I mean, hitting a relatively stationary human-sized target from a few meters away... It's definitely not the most impressive shot on Crosshair's resume.

However, I did feel it was worth adding to the list for the simple fact that Crosshair is physically exhausted and mentally broken in this scene. He basically uses the last of his strength to kill Lt. Nolan, because he immediately collapses right afterward.

Also, Crosshair might be right-handed, but he's pretty good at shooting his pistol leftie. We don't really see the shot hit Nolan, but if you zoom in after his body hits the ground, you can see that Crosshair shot him straight through the heart. He wasn't leaving that bastard alive after everything he and Mayday went through.

9. Lunch tray ricochet in 1.01 "Aftermath"

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Even though this isn't a shot in the traditional sense -- considering there aren't any firearms involved -- I had to put this on the list for two reasons.

One, I had multiple people suggest it; and two, because I've watched this scene dozens of times and only recently found out that Crosshair actually hits two clones with his lunch tray.

He initially throws it at the clone Tech was fighting, presumably knocking him down. But then it ricochets so hard that it basically clotheslines another clone who's just standing there, minding his own business. Dude was hit so hard, he was like floating in midair for a split second.

Also, this plays into my headcanon that Crosshair would be excellent at any sports that require excellent aim and coordination. If he was on a basketball team, he'd be a three-point specialist for sure!!

8. Plan 55 ricochet in 3.12 "Juggernaut"

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This is the closest thing we get to a trickshot in S3, so I had to include it on the list.

Here, we see Crosshair's quick-thinking and perfect aim take out several troopers at once by purposely ricocheting his shot off the magnetically sealed doors.

As we know from “A New Hope,” magnetically sealed doors/surfaces are no joke. You really have to know what you're doing or someone's gonna get hurt. Thankfully, Crosshair is a freakin' pro at this!

It honestly reminds me of all those crazy pool shots where you have to plan out four or five bounces/angles ahead to get the angle you really want.

7. Downing a spaceship on Ryloth in 1.11 "Devil's Deal"

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NOTE: This is the only clip I couldn't readily find on YT. So I included the clip of Crosshair killing Orn Free Taa from the same episode to maintain symmetry in this Top 10 list.

Don't let the clip fool you. The shot I'm actually talking about takes place before this, when Crosshair -- from like 300 meters away, mind you -- takes down a fast-moving ship by shooting one of the engines.

Look, I love S3 Crosshair with all my heart, but his shooting abilities were severely diminished after his time on Tantiss. When I was doing my S1 rewatch and got to this scene in 1.11, I was like "Oh yeah, I forgot Crosshair used to be able pull off crazy shit like this."

It's actually sad how many of his made shots in 1.11 are like an inverse of his missed shots in 3.11. Here, Crosshair easily shoots a tracker onto Hera & company's ship, and later shoots the engine with no problem, despite the speed and distance.

In 3.11, though, he misses CX-2's ship and fails to track Omega back to Tantiss. 😭

6. Shooting Wrecker's knife in 1.01 "Aftermath"

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Now we're getting into the really impressive shit! Most of these remaining entries have Crosshair shooting small targets and/or fast-moving ones.

In this instance, it's both. Wrecker throws the knife like this is skeet-shooting or something, and Crosshair just very casually shoots it into a droid.

Have you ever seen someone who was so good at their job/hobby that they make it look effortless? Like they're not even trying? This happens to me sometimes when I watch the Olympics. I'm like, "That's not so hard. I could probably do that." And then I try it for like half a second, and I'm like, "Oh no, those people are insane."

That's how good S1-2 Crosshair is. He makes shooting a fast-moving knife look effortless.

5. His four-kill trickshot in 1.15 "Return to Kamino"

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These next three are all no-brainer entries. I think the biggest question will be why I went with the order I did.

Here, we have Crosshair displaying two very important elements of marksmanship/sniping: patience and careful aim.

Crosshair evidently set up at least four mirrors (I counted the ricochets in the shot) well in advance in the exact spots he needed to take down his Imperial squad, if need be. That's some serious foresight and preparation -- to know exactly where everyone would be standing, and have all the mirrors ready to go ahead of time.

He must've set them up even before he brought Hunter into the training room, or Hunter would've seen them and probably signaled his teammates.

He's also hitting a target that seems to be somewhere between the size of a golf ball and baseball from like 10-20 meters. And with his sidearm.

I know everyone loves the hallway mirror ricochet to kill the squadron of battle droids in TCW Season 7, but it didn't qualify. But, honestly, I think this one is more impressive anyway. He hit the first 1.15 mirror from farther away than he does in TCW S7, and he's using his pistol in 1.15 rather than his rifle and scope.

Talk about accuracy!

4. Sniping the tank in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

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Oh man! I think we all love this one, right? It's just one of my favorite sequences in the entire show -- the framing, the colors, the effects of the dirt flying up behind him.

I love how Crosshair baits the droids to get the exact angle he needs, and the dude clearly has nerves of steel for staring down the barrel of a tank without flinching. I wonder how many times he's done it, considering he seemed to know exactly how to beat them. I'm guessing at least a dozen.

This is another example of "expert making their expertise look effortless," when in reality, we'd all shit ourselves if we attempted to do the same.

Honestly, sometimes I wish we could've had this version of Crosshair face off against Hemlock in 3.15 -- the dude who stared down the barrel of a tank and didn't flinch at the most literal version of "kill or be killed."

3. Stairwell trickshot in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

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While I love the tank sequence more for the aesthetics, I have to rank the 2.03 stairwell trickshot above it.

That's partly because Crosshair's still physically and mentally recovering from nearly getting choked to death. But, it's also partly because -- just like with Wrecker's knife -- Crosshair is shooting a target that someone else is throwing.

That means he has to adjust to whatever trajectory and speed they throw it at and compensate accordingly, which can understandably be very hard to do in a split-second.

And, in this situation, Crosshair can't even see the puck directly. He's looking at it through at least one or two layers of reflective mirrors. Dude's reaction time is insane!

He also manages to take down at least four or five droids with a single shot, including the tactical droid, which is several meters up the stairwell and into the next room.

I'm not sure if the clones learned any advanced mathematics during their training on Kamino. But if they did, I think Crosshair would've loved geometry and maybe trigonometry too! He would also absolutely kill in a game of pool. I wanna see him go to the SW equivalent of a pool hall, and show Omega that he can hustle people too! He just needed to find a game that would better suit his strengths. LOL

Anyway, as insane as this shot is, Crosshair has two others on his resume that are even more impressive:

2. Saving Omega & AZI in 1.16 "Kamino Lost"

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This is one of three entries on this list that *no one* mentioned when I asked for suggestions, but I had to include it. That's because it is -- without a doubt -- the most bafflingly impressive shot Crosshair makes in the entire show.

I have watched this scene dozens of times, and I still have no idea how he knows where Omega and AZI are.

Initially, I thought -- as others did -- that he's using an infrared scope to see their body heat in the water. But, that doesn't appear to be the case.

The only times I can recall Crosshair activating an infrared capability is when he has his rangefinder, which is attached to his helmet. As we see in episodes like 1.01 "Aftermath" and in 3.07 "Extraction," he specifically has to put the rangefinder down in front of his eye to use the infrared option.

No, his scope is just that -- a regular scope. The infrared capability is only attached to his helmet's rangefinder, which he doesn't have in this scene.

Thus, I have no idea how Crosshair is using a regular-ass scope to find Omega and AZI in the dark ocean. The point of a scope is to see better, and I don't know what he might see beside more darkness. AZI's eyes aren't active and, even if Crosshair spots Omega's flashlight, Omega dropped it when she went after AZI, so it's not exactly on her.

I'm willing to believe that Crosshair has better eyesight than the average human in the Star Wars universe or IRL, but his eyesight must be insane if he can see them in the water, even with a scope.

But, whether it's eyesight, some other enhanced sense or just plain luck, Crosshair knows where in the vast, dark ocean they are — not just the angle but the depth too!

It's really hard to tell how far down they are, but I'd say at least 20 meters. And if he is able to see them somehow, he might have to adjust the shot for refraction in the water too.

Plus, unlike the other entries on this list, Crosshair isn't shooting a blaster bolt. He's shooting a cable, meaning he'd have to adjust his shot to accommodate its weight and trajectory once it hits the water. Additionally, with how Omega and AZI are situated, he needs to have the cable hit and latch onto AZI, without hitting Omega in the process, and get the exact angle needed to drag both of them to the surface.

Like I said: I have absolutely no idea how he made this shot. It's definitely the most impressive one he makes in the entire show based solely on external technical factors.

But of course, there is a parallel shot later in the series that's his most impressive one of all...

1. Freeing Omega in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

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I will never shut up about this scene. It's been living in my head rent-free for three weeks already, and will continue to for several months.

This is undoubtedly the most important shot in Crosshair's life: the shot to save his kid and free his family from Hemlock once and for all.

And everything is working against him: It's dark. It's raining. Omega and Hemlock are like ~40 meters away. The target is the binders between their hands, which is like 3-5 centimeters wide, and won't exactly be stationary. Oh, he's using CX-2's stolen blaster, which doesn't even have a scope on it!!!

We the audience get a POV of what Crosshair sees from over his shoulder, and I can barely see Omega's face, let alone her hands!! I said in the previous entry that Crosshair's eyesight has to be better than the average person's because, holy hell, how can he see that?!?

And, even worse, Crosshair is physically and mentally spent in this scene. He had to return to his own personal hell -- the place where he was tortured and traumatized for months -- then got beaten in a fight and had his dominant hand chopped off.

He and Hunter are running on pure adrenaline at this point. They are absolutely hellbent on getting their kid back, even if they die or collapse in the process. They were practically hobbling out of the CX lab together, and when they crouch down on the bridge, Crosshair has to steady himself against Hunter because he doesn't have his other hand.

And, as the final cherry on top of this proverbially shitty sundae, Crosshair absolutely terrified of missing.

A few episodes ago, the guy couldn't hit stationary fruit from like ~15 meters away with a scope in daylight and in a controlled environment. He even tells Omega: "Close doesn't count. It's either a hit or a miss." Because in a high-stakes situation like this, missing your shot could mean death for you or someone else.

Crosshair already feels like he failed Omega because he missed the shot on Pabu. And now, he has to make an even tougher one with every disadvantage stacked against him and her life literally in his hand.

I don't blame the guy for doubting himself.

Thankfully, Hunter and Omega have complete faith in him, and despite everything he's been through in S3, he has faith in himself.

And so, in the shot to end all shots in "The Bad Batch," Crosshair hits his target and frees Omega.

He and Hunter then subsequently turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese before Omega gives Crosshair a much-needed hug, causing me to cry for the 100th time.

I'll admit: as much as I would've loved seeing another mirror trickshot or some other crazy ricochet in the finale (or just S3 in general), this scene is basically perfect.

It also makes for a nice little parallel to the S1 finale, where Crosshair saved Omega's life after she saved his. Here, as he says himself, he goes back to Tantiss to free her because she freed him first.

As someone said on Twitter when I asked for ideas about this list:

"(Crosshair) put his whole heart and soul in this shot, and he didn't miss. He couldn't afford to."

Like I said: this was the shot that freed the entire Bad Batch family from Hemlock forever. So, I think by default, it had to be No. 1 on this list.

*******

Anyway, thanks for reading! It'd be fun to put together another TBB list like this. I guess I'll have to pick a subject first, though, because I don't have any ideas. If you have any, send them my way!

(EDIT: For anyone who’s also on Twitter, give me a follow. @CatchingClassic )

#Youtube #the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #bad batch #tbb season 3 #tbb series finale #tbb season three #tbb crosshair #the bad batch crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair tbb #star wars #sw tbb #star wars tbb #clone force 99 #star wars the bad batch

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taranida · 23 days ago

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Alan Thomas "Scratch" Wake-Za(Sei)ne or 665-???-667 or the Alan headcount; part 2

The second part is finally here. It took most of my time: the Alans I’ve discussed in the first part are, aside from Awan, I guess, pretty straight forward, no big revelations, not much conflicting facts. Now we step into the territory of the Alans, who spark arguments and never-ending questions of their true nature.

This part, as was the first, will be split in sections for each Alan we have, list of the things we know that I deemed relevant (and didn’t forget to mention in this jumbled mess) for the theory; and a bit of dissecting of some of the points.

If you didn’t read the first part it is strongly advised, since once upon a time it was one theory and parts are heavily intertwined. There we took a look at Alan from the first game, Alans from the DLCs, Imaginary Barry, Alan from AWAN, and Noir-Casey. Now we will take a look at more controversial Alans. I know some of them will raise a lot of questions, but bear with me.

A fair warning, it is a lengthy read, maybe take some snacks and drinks and hop in for a ride. And before we begin, allow me to introduce alternative covers for this mess; to set the mood, yaknow:

I'm not sorry.

As promised, I will put the AW1 Alan here as well, as he’s our best baseline for the character. There are few new points, but for those who will read parts back to back, I put them at the very start of the list.

Alan Wake before and during 2010.

I’ll call him just Alan; so, what do we know about him:

Alan considers Alice to be his muse.

Alan has a Number One Fan—Rose Marigold.

Alan was born in 1977… or 1978-1979, the guide for AW states he was 31 in 2010, the memorial in AWII reads 1977-2010; go figure.

Alan was born in New York or moved there at a very young age, since he and Barry, who grew up in New York, were childhood friends.

Alan was born with a condition that made him sensitive to light to the point of being blinded by it and prone to migraines.

Alan never knew his father and was raised by his mother, Linda Wake, who had mental issues and spent a lot of time in various institutions while Alan was growing up. Alan was deeply affected by the absence of his father or a father-figure in his life.

Alan had crippling nightmares as a child before his mother gave him the Clicker.

Alan’s first published story was “Errand Boy,” which centred around a broken and twisted father-son relationship, horror, and a lighthouse occupied by the creatures that might’ve been an inspiration for the Taken.

Alan’s first serious writing gig was being a semi-regular writer on the Night Springs show. He hated it, by the way, felt that it was trash, and he was not a real writer. But he got over it; Night Springs ended up being a huge part of his personality.

Alan might’ve taken a job as a night watchman, carrying a gun and torch, in hopes of getting inspiration for his stories; as he states in one of the manuscripts, his first passion was crime. It was a boring gig, but at least he ran into Alice.

Alan is madly in love with Alice and cannot live without her.

Alan also knew that Alice actually can live without him and was always afraid that she will leave him, not allowing himself to truly believe that she loves him.

Alan’s first novel was about Alex Casey; the series grew and brought him success that he didn’t handle well. Parties, fights, substance abuse—all this rock-star lifestyle BS.

Alan considered only two people being close to him: Barry and Alice. And they didn’t get along well, although both care about him and genuinely love him, as he did in return. We have no information about what happened to his mother and what relationship he had with her.

Alan hit a writer’s block after the last Casey novel and his state started to deteriorate. He was moody, angry, and quick to lash out; the rock-star BS intensified. This drove his marriage to a breaking point.

Alan’s involvement in the vacation is unknown; he did say in one of the flashbacks that he wants a vacation for him and Alice, but Alice surely was the one to arrange everything and choose Bright Falls.

Alan forgot more dreams about the Dark Presence than Clay Steward remembers.

Alan had nightmares on a regular basis at the start of the first game; if it’s connected with giving the Clicker to Alice is unknown.

Alan had anger issues.

Alan was a sceptic.

Alan wrote everything that happened in 2010, taking inspiration from Tom Zane’s books, he found in the shoebox in the cabin, and advice from his non-human editor Barbara Jagger. His scepticism didn’t stop him from writing supernatural events and Lovecraftian beings.

Alan, even at the time of the first game, had very strict rules about how exactly he should write to make fiction come true. He presents it as some sort of hunches or a writer’s wisdom.

Alan can manipulate time.

Alan ate the Dark Presence and enslaved the Bright Presence.

Alright, maybe the last fact was a bit too exaggerated, but it’s not without truth. Alan did indeed enslave the Bright Presence (and, frankly, everyone who has been mentioned in the manuscripts, plus some others, whose manuscripts Alan didn’t find), but the deal with the Dark Presence is a bit more nuanced. His last words, before he sat down to write “the ending to the story,” effectively rewriting the whole loop we just witnessed in the game, were about balance. Knowing what we know now, Alan might’ve consumed the Dark Presence’s powers whilst banishing her, effectively becoming too large of a presence himself to leave the Dark Place, or he took her place because, as he said, the scales have to balance, everything has a price; the price of killing the Dark Presence and freeing Alice from the Dark Place is staying in the Dark Place (as he himself believes in AWII) with complimentary Scratch in your head. Both of those possibilities have supporting evidence, and it doesn’t really matter which one of them you choose to believe; they lead to the same outcome.

Being consistent af, I will address the third fact(-ish?): as far as I know, no extra material was deemed non-canon, therefore the guide for AW is still a source one can use. Yes, it has some conflicts with the games, but the games have some conflicts with the games, and given the loops, memory issues, and the nature of this story, that has no need for retcons (‘tis just another loop, mate!), I’d say Alan just doesn’t remember his own birthdate and changes it on a whim. Or there might be another reason, drawn from other sources, that have nothing to do with our story.

Honestly, I’m not sure other facts need any clarification; people who will read this surely know a thing or two about Alan Wake. Moving on.

Now to the part proper. As it goes in this blog, we will start with Thomas Zane (honestly, I never have thought that in my RCU theory blog I will spend so much time talking about—of all people—Tom Zane)—the real one, not a Finnish knock-off, and his Bright Presence version. I’ve written extensively about him, so I will try to be as brief as possible. So let’s make a step back into AW1.

Thomas Zane

What do we know from several in-universe sources about Tom and his, let’s say, legacy, Meaning the Bright Presence using Tom’s identity, of course. I don’t see a point in splitting the two, it will be explained later.

Tom was a very famous poet. If we are to believe Alan’s taste—a good one.

Tom wrote—at some point in his life—about Lovecraftian horrors lurking beneath Cauldron Lake.

Tom might or might not be a local of Bright Falls, nowhere it is stated if he moved there or was born there, we simply have no information about this.

Tom was a passionate diver.

Tom lived in the cabin on Diver’s Isle, which he owned; we have no idea for how long he was occupying the place, but he was an important part of the Bright Falls community, so much so, the Isle was called after his diving hobby. So, probably, he was occupying the isle for a long enough time.

Tom might or might not been in contact with the Old Gods of Asgard; it is never stated that they were acquaintances, but the boys knew about Tom’s existence at the very least, calling him “the other writer”. Also, in the diner the boys seem to be happy to see “Tom”.

Tom dated a local girl Barbara Jagger; they were not married, as I saw people believing this was the case, but it was not so. Tom considered Barbie a piece of the puzzle, that brought everything in his life together. He was never a very happy man before he met her, she changed that with ease, being young, vibrant and full of life. He fell for her fast and she became his muse.

Tom had a Number One Fan—Cynthia Weaver.

Tom was scared of how his writing had power beyond that of a regular art, even if a very good one, and if not for his assistant, he would’ve given up. This assistant was Emil Hartman.

Tom wrote Barbie back after she tragically drowned in July 1970. She came back with a complimentary Dark Presence inside.

Tom tried to kill the Dark Presence that took over Barbie by cutting its (filled with darkness) heart out first and then diving into Cauldron Lake with it.

Tom tried to shif+del the Dark Presence and all the horrors he unleashed by writing himself, Barbie, his works out of existence.

Tom left a shoebox with his books in Bird Leg Cabin, containing a poetry of his, probably published at some point.

Tom wrote the Last Poem, his masterpiece; after the Dark and Bright Presences claimed his and Barbie’s bodies, he recited it as he was diving deeper into Cauldron Lake, creating a baby universe, where he and Barbie could live happily ever after.

Tom was memorialised at Cauldron Lake Lodge by Emil Hartman.

Tom left a loophole—shoeboxes, knowing that there might come a time when they will be needed.

Tom, after the ordeal with the Dark Presence and diving into Cauldron Lake, saved Cynthia with his light, tasked her with guarding a shoebox of his, and consequentially ruined her life, making her the town’s crazy lady. He enforced all this by keeping contact with her: talking to her via television, from beyond, from below.

Tom might’ve written a manuscript, describing how Alan came into possession of the Clicker in his childhood and how he used it in 2010.

Tom entered Alan’s dream to teach him about the danger of the dark.

Tom saved Alan from the Dark Presence with his light, freeing Alan from the cabin.

Tom was the one to scatter the manuscript pages around. Or, how he said, “deliver them in the right place at the right time,” but as a person who did collect all the manuscripts, I would beg to differ.

Tom is elevated enough to have the knowledge of the Dark Place’s concept of geography, let’s say.

Tom is elevated enough to influence the Dark Place.

Tom is elevated enough to know and use means of communication within the Dark Place without meeting face to face.

Tom never explicitly stated that he wants to escape the Dark Place, but he did search for the way out.

Tom knows about means of communicating with the real world from the Dark Place.

Tom helped Alans from the DLC for the first game to reunite.

Tom’s number is 667.

This is the list of the things the first game, This House of Dreams, and The Alan Wakes Files (together with the guide for AW1) want us to believe. I’ve scrutinised most of them already (literally just look at my first theories), so I won’t go into details. Let’s just say, most of it doesn’t add up. Tom wrote himself, his works, and achievements out of existence, but couldn’t write out Cynthia’s articles? They surely weren’t in a shoebox, Barry was in the archives, I highly doubt that whomever works there keeps old newspapers in shoeboxes for forty years, or that Barry wouldn’t take an opportunity to throw a jab at the “yokels” if that was the case. Tom wanted to make people forget him as if he never existed, but people didn’t. An argument might be made, that Hartman, Cynthia and Andersons are an exception, due to their tight connection to the powers of Cauldron Lake, yet Hartman notes in his diaries in Control, that regular townsfolk had encountered Tom after the eruption that destroyed Diver’s Isle. And he was memorialised! Even forty years after his dive, the memorial (absolutely not in a shoebox) still clearly reads his name, occupation and connection to Hartman for anyone to see. So, Tom kinda-sorta wrote himself out of existence, but kinda-sorta didn’t.

It is alluded that Tom knew that the horrors, unleashed onto our world, were not as much of a result of him writing Barbie back, but a result of him just writing. He even wanted to stop, only for Hartman to convince him to continue. Tom only bothered to do something decisive because he wanted to save his lover. There is a connection here.

In This House of Dreams, we have the line “he’d tried everything he could think of to banish it from her, but everything had failed” about Tom’s efforts to bring the real Barbie back, yet his only known action was… cutting her heart out? I mean, okay, maybe at that point he was more concerned with not allowing the Dark Presence to taint Barbie’s body, accepting that his beloved muse is dead, then again, he willingly gave up that body in the Last Dive. We can write it off as actions of a desperate man, who couldn’t think clearly and consistency wasn’t on the table, but still, we know of no other attempts to free Barbie from the Dark Presence. It went from, as Cynthia pointed out, not understanding that something is wrong, to cutting the heart out and writing them both out of existence. Sounds awfully like a first messy attempt at saving the muse.

The usefulness of writing himself out of existence is a whole other can of worms. Why did Tom leave a shoebox with his books in the cabin? It’s a small detail, that can be glanced over; after all, he left many of his possessions in the cabin, not planning to ever return. Yet the books, unlike everything else, that, we know was preserved just fine (who the hell brought the damn rocking horsie in the cabin ffs?), were placed in a shoebox. If Tom didn’t have a habit of arranging things in shoeboxes, he did it deliberately. Why then we have another shoebox under Cynthia’s care? Let’s quickly deal with the habit of placing things in shoeboxes: there is not even one evidence he was wont to do so. Tom didn’t want the isle to go down then? He wanted, but he wanted to save the books on the bottom of the (bottomless) lake and it’s a pride thing? It doesn’t make any sense as is; but if we consider the cabin as a place of power, the picture starts to become clearer. Tom wanted those books to be found, he placed them in a shoebox for a reason. And I don’t believe he was the cause of the eruption; I would bet it was caused by the Dark and Bright Presences battling after the Last Dive, or just a disaster, that had nothing to do with anything supernatural. But a more plausible explanation: the cabin was never drowned before Alan got into DP!Barbara’s trap. And from the options of how exactly the isle went down, I would bet on the version with the Presences battling. It makes more sense, since in the mines Alan hears Alice’s voice and finds Cynthia’s sign, pointing that the way leads to Cauldron Lake; it’s probably an active threshold, that was opened in 1970 and caused the eruption. Dates add up as well, Barbara drowned on 10th of July, the eruption happened on 18th of July. This eruption, btw, left Bright Falls with no power for approximately 24 hours, which smoothly leads up to the next point.

Cynthia claimed that she was saved by Tom’s light, but it is highly questionable. I would suggest, that this event happened after the end of Thomas Zane in our world and his replacement by the Bright Presence, possessing the body of Tom. In those 24 hours, when the town had no power, the Dark Presence could do whatever it wanted during nights, and “Tom,” the Bright Presence, could be there to save people with light. Or a person; because Cynthia, as he said, was needed. The Bright Presence is also the most likely candidate to be seen by the townsfolk, who recognised him as Tom Zane.

Since Cynthia’s involvement was mentioned, I will briefly talk about her. The woman’s life was completely destroyed, and not by the Dark Presence’s touch; by Tom (or, more accurately, the Bright Presence, but I will refer to the entity, that screwed Cynthia’s life here as “Tom” as she believes it was him) and his scheming; she was reduced from a normal person with a good job and maybe a hopeless crush (which is not a big deal, really, many people experience it) to a loony, obsessed with light, lamp, and guarding the shoebox with a piece of paper: changing the lightbulbs in the Well-Lit Room on a very tight schedule. Tom couldn’t give two shits about her, even though she was his and Barbie’s friend. He even went as far as to keep her leash as short as possible by contacting her via some crazy things. Another connection emerges. (I really wish one day I could write about Cynthia and the tragedy of her life; her story is the saddest in the whole AW.) There is one more thing to point out about Cynthia: she did her job splendidly—changed the lightbulbs, kept the Well-Lit Room safe, kept the town safe from darkness (to the best of her abilities, being crazy lady and all), yet she never glanced into the page. How much easier it would be for her to just read the message and pass it on at the right time? Instead, she was breaking her back, tending to Well-Lit Room and guarding the page. Another parallel.

Let’s address the Buck-Toothed Charlie in the room. Tom, presumably, wrote a page about Alan and the Clicker. I will leave the full text below, so we are on the same manuscript here:

Alan, seven years old, would fight sleep to the bitter end. When he did sleep, he soon woke up, screaming, the nightmares fresh in his mind. One evening, his mother, sitting by his bed, offered him an old light switch. She called it the “Clicker” and flicking the switch would turn on a magical light that would drive the beast away. To imbue the talisman with all possible power, she added that it had been given to her by Alan’s father. Alan never knew him, and anything of his took on mythical proportions in his mind. With the Clicker firmly in his hand, Alan finally slept like a baby. Now, almost thirty years later, Alan thought of this, as he stood on the rim of Cauldron Lake, the Clicker in his hand. He took a deep breath and jumped.

In one of the manuscripts we learn that Tom knew, that despite all his efforts, the Dark Presence might return one day; therefore, he wrote shoeboxes as a loophole. So, did he know that the Dark Presence might return or did he make sure by writing the Dark Presence return? Which is it? Because if he wrote that page about Alan, he wrote (implied, but Alan taught us that it might be even more powerful than what’s written directly) the return of the Dark Presence as well, the last paragraph is the most damning in that sense; but if he wanted a safeguard, he couldn’t possibly write Alan and the Clicker on the rim of Cauldron Lake, since he wouldn’t have known about the circumstances of the Dark Presence’s return. Looking at both possibilities we have:

Tom knew, orchestrated and guided everything that transpired in 2010. That means he did it for a reason. What reason? I have no idea, but if I were to speculate, I think there are a couple of options. First one: to kill the Dark Presence once and for all and free Barbie’s body (Barbie is the only force that can make him do something), not caring how many people will die in the process and how many more lives he will ruin (this also implies, he, not the Bright Presence, was the one to screw Cynthia, by writing her fate beforehand). Solid reason, goes somewhat fine with the character. Still, we can’t forget that Tom actually wanted to stop writing before Barbie’s death, maybe not as strongly as he should’ve, but he had some consideration for the world outside of his love nest. Would he really doom so many just to kill an entity, which for all he knew, might’ve never had an opportunity to come back? Another point for it is more in line with the second game: Tom created a hero that will set him free. There are several issues with this one. For a start, why would he create a hero, that will take forty years to arrive and do the deed? Alan was trying throughout all thirteen years he spent in the Dark Place, pushing the hero role onto multiple people, connecting stories to craft the perfect narrative, and still was shocked that it took him so long. And guess what? If Tom did write Alan as a hero, as a saviour, shaped his life, giving him all those powers, well, with all the might of this writing, he forgot to write the most important part: the escape itself! Neither Alan, nor Tom were freed as a result of the events of 2010. An argument might be made, that Tom was playing a longer game there; but let’s even assume, he was, indeed, preparing Alan to free him in 2010. For Tom forty years after the Last Dive the world would’ve been alien, everyone he loved dead, everything he cherished forgotten, everything he knew changed, yet he willingly gave the hero forty years? Or, if we consider the longer game: even more? It’s some cryonics phantasy more than anything at this point. The most important piece of information we have, that ruins this theory: Tom needs no saviour; he’s living “happily ever after” with Barbie on the private isle in the Dark Place. He’s not in the miserable loop, trying to find a way out, he’s the artist who made it in the Dark Place, who learnt how to use its power to his advantage and even reunite with his dead love. He’s exactly like the boys of OGoA in the end of the Final Draft—just chilling, happy to be with the person he lost.

Tom didn’t know how and when, he had nothing to do with the events of 2010, he just left the one and only shoebox (we know for sure about the one in the cabin; the one in Ordinary is questionable, and I’ll explain why the Well-Lit Room one is excluded), so if something were to happen, the unfortunate artist who got trapped in the Dark Presence’s web could harness some knowledge from his writings and story. But then he never wrote the manuscript, he never tasked Cynthia with protecting the shoebox and he never shaped Alan’s life. Whodunit? Alan. He knew when and how he should get instructions from Deus ex Machina, he wrote the whole story about what happened in 2010, he was controlling the powers that had access to the Clicker (that probably ended up in Cauldron Lake together with the cabin), he learnt about the shoebox in the cabin, a loophole, as he labelled it, he knew that the quest of finding the Lady of the Light should be the last step to finish the story. He has clear motivation, means and nothing really goes against it. Even after he reads the manuscript, he says “my mind swirled. I had given the Clicker to Alice. Yet it was here. Zane had written it into existence... in a story I had written” which puts Zane as a character in Alan’s story. In The Writer DLC the Bright Presence, an echo of Tom, says “I’m not the author of your story” and then refuses to elaborate when Alan presses him. This is the most we get on the topic of who wrote whom and what, and it’s quite clear.

Here will be a good time to also mention, that no matter why, the Bright Presence going by the name of Tom Zane was nothing but helpful to Alan. It weakened itself to free him from the cabin, it took the manuscripts to deliver them in the right place at the right time and then gave instructions on how to proceed into the cabin to confront the Dark Presence. In the DLCs the help extended to almost companion-like, even making Imaginary Barry jealous. The Bright Presence was a father-figure, which Alan always yearned for, and at that time Alan had more pressing matters on his mind, than to write himself friends. What I’m trying to say, he would be content with an ally, any ally to help him on the journey, not necessarily the one who’s kind and softly spoken. It’s not clear if the Bright Presence behaved this way because this is his true self, dragged into the story, or Alan did let his daddy-issues get the better of him. There is a lot of evidence that the Bright Presence is not a “good guy” by human standards, yet, he did acted with kindness and care, even if just for show.

Tom’s number is 667, as is marked on his diving suit.

This is a “quick” summary of the “real” Tom Zane and the Bright Presence, who at some point was acting in his name. Moving on to not-so-real finish Tom Zane, who, for the sake of clarity, I will call Seine.

Thomas Seine

Again, a list of things we know about him from some in-universe sources:

Seine was born in Finland.

Seine is an auteur and managed to make a name for himself in Europe. His film “Nightless Night” won a number of European awards.

Seine moved to US and changed his (perfectly fine) name to more Americanised “Zane”. His partner Baba Jakala moved with him and changed her name to Americanised Barbara Jagger, too. The extent of their relationship (was she his muse or not) is unknown.

Seine purchased an old manor (or commissioned it to an unknown architect, meaning it was brand new) outside the Bright Falls, which will eventually become Valhalla Nursing Home.

Seine planned to build Oceanview Hotel and a film studio in Bright Falls.

Seine established an artist commune in Bright Falls; members, aside from him and Baba, unknown.

Seine was a cult leader apparently, since the unknown members of his commune were seeing him as a person worth revering, and a shepherd of sorts, who guides his flock.

Seine was into “magic” mushrooms to reach a state of higher artistic inspiration.

Seine was in the process of filming “Tom the Poet” in Bright Falls; did the production start there or not is unknown.

Seine did finish the film. The film was lost.

Seine played his dark double (the poet, the writer, the diver, Thomas the Rhymer) in his films.

Seine mysteriously disappeared in 1970.

Seine is trapped in the Dark Place. He doesn’t like it there and wants to escape.

Seine doesn’t have Baba with him, her fate is unknown to the point, we cannot be sure if she’s even dead or alive.

Seine is elevated enough to remember some of the loops.

Seine is elevated enough to have the knowledge of the Dark Place’s points of interest, let’s say.

Seine is elevated enough to shape the Dark Place.

Seine is elevated enough to know and use means of communication within the Dark Place without meeting face to face.

Seine is elevated enough to know that he cannot die in the Dark Place.

Seine occupies his own puddle in the ocean of the Dark Place, which can be accessed via a projector.

Seine owns a cinema in the Writer’s City.

Seine is in a peculiar position to be able to change places with Alan.

Seine is scared of the police and FBC.

Seine claimed he worked with Scratch.

Seine, apparently, is of a high opinion of Scratch, calling him a magnificent visionary.

Seine’s number is 665.

As is seen from the list, there is a lot to be desired as to specifics. We have not much information about Seine and his whole life is a jumbled mess, yet where Tom’s life lacks a lot of details as well, we have the most important piece of information—how he ended up in the Dark Place. With Seine we have nothing. I will stand by the belief that it was done for a reason, to show that he has a potent ability to change reality, but not as refined and precise as that of Alan. Now, to be honest, Alan fucks up royally as well, but his reality-altering writing is coherent; he can use the neat little trick of “you suggest, they fill the blanks”; Seine cannot. That’s why we don’t know who was Baba, who were the members of the cult-commune, how did Seine end up in the Dark Place, why are all of his films lost, and why the hell does this man have so many god damn dark doubles. Honestly, if everyone around is a dark double, it’s time to look in the mirror.

Seine is an enigma: we have no manuscripts (or do we?) about him, no songs by the boys, nothing. Even the films, he presumably made before and around 1970 are based on the novels by Alan—both in the Dark Place and in our world as well. The manor he purchased or built appears to be a new addition to Bright Falls’ area as we can learn that not everyone remembers it to be there. The plaque in the Valhalla Nursing Home claims, that the manor was built for Seine in 1965, the news article about him claims, he purchased it and it was already old, on the manor itself we can even find the date: 1887. Which is it? Seine managed to insert himself as a filmmaker in the minds of many, but not everyone. Some still remember him as a poet. Most notably: Jesse, who is under the protection of Polaris, and Cynthia, who might be under the protection of the power of love (but most likely the Bright Presence’s light), of course, let’s not exclude Alan himself, who forgets everything, but at least twice has had a conversation about poet-filmmaker with Seine.

We have a manor that’s old, but new; career in poetry, but filmmaking; films that were made, but lost; films that were made before 1970, but based on the works of a not-yet-born writer; and a bunch of other contradictions. What was the artist’s commune? Who were the members? Why is it described as a cult-like in an article, that favoured Seine? How did Seine end up in the Dark Place? Why did the boys never-ever address his existence? And where are the magic mushrooms in the flashback of artistic collaboration with Alan?

Also, there is a question of appearance. In Control’s AWE Alan remarks that Seine looks different (from Zane), in AW2’s Room 665, he asks why Seine looks like him. In both cases Seine does look like Alan, but in AWE he has the same hairstyle, beard and even wears the same outfit (The Layered One), making a mirror-perfect image, yet Alan doesn’t comment on this. In Room 665 Seine wears Alan’s suit jacket from AWAN, cleanshaven, rocking leather trousers and, weirdly enough, has Alan’s wedding band as a necklace. A clear departure from a carbon copy we saw in AWE. I will talk more about it in a bit, but we have yet another Buck-Toothed Charlie in the room: the FBI detective Anderson has an option to look at Seine: in Suomi Hall and in Valhalla Nursing Home; needless to say, she doesn’t react, although one might think she’s quite familiar with Alan’s features to recognise his face even through a genius disguise of beardlessness. Does that mean Seine is not seen as Alan to people outside of the Dark Place, or is it a problem of a beholder, who doesn’t connect the movie made before Alan’s birth, but based on his work? Just food for thought.

Returning to the outfit. It is a clear departure from a carbon copy, but still Seine seems to be pretty attached to some things. The suit jacket is a minor thing, really, it looks cool, what else do you want? The wedding band on the other hand is questionable. In the article about Seine Baba is mentioned as his partner, not his wife of fiancée. For all we know, he could be preparing to propose or she could be just his first lady in a cult with all the dark shit that comes with it. The band may or may not have a meaning for the character of Seine, as he tried to write his life into reality. Or it might be there just to spite Alan.

Throughout the second game Seine does everything to manipulate and backseat Alan in the direction, not really beneficial for the both of them. He obviously has his own goal, that is—getting out of the Dark Place—and uses Alan. He’s not at all a friend to Alan and it’s clear from the very first phone call, where Seine probing if Alan remembers and assures “I got you now,” which has a sinister undertone: from now on Seine, indeed, got Alan—as a tool for his design. The second call cranks this subtle hostility to eleven, Seine asks about the progress, expresses his content with it, then hits Alan with a question about Alice—a low blow by any means, then he brings up the Dark Presence and Scratch (who, he’s surely aware, are the same entity). If it’s not a classic attempt at convincing someone that the only person, who has their best interest in mind, is the speaker, I dunno what is it. And this will only escalate. In the moment when Alan had enough time (even to adapt Rose’s fanfiction into a script as an attempt to escape) and desperately needs a friend like Tom Zane from the first game, he gets Seine, who, by all means, is not interested in truly helping. The scene with changing places in room 665 is one of the moments where Seine shows his real face and intentions; he’s not fazed when it doesn’t work, not at all. He has the whole cinema to try again: making Alan question if he’s the author or a character and trying to trap him in an endless loop. Note, that this draft of Initiation is the only one where Scratch doesn’t make an appearance.

Yoton Yo, that is shown at the end, spells what Seine tried to achieve. The cult leader returns in all of his sinister glory. The film even succeeded to a degree: there are similarities in the endings of AW2 and the film. Yoton Yo is truly a companion piece for Return, but in another showcase of prowess in reality-changing abilities, it only manifests when given a room: Ahti’s song, Casey being sort of a sacrifice and the final dialog between Alan and Alice, all those little things. Seine was not written into Initiation or Return, he inserted himself into those stories. Might be with the help of the Alan-ex-machina on the phone, but not by the Alan(s) we play as.

With all this in mind: Thomas Zane and Thomas Seine are not the same characters (yet they are the same entity at their core). Where Zane’s story is coherent and corroborated by multiple beings, Seine’s is not—it lacks consistency, always gets stuck in the narrative conflicts and falls apart at every turn.

Scratch

Scratch is the Dark Presence of AWII. He is a Dark Presence with unique qualities: he can actually create and he doesn’t need an artist to achieve his goal (but he wants one). Let’s just jump to the list.

Scratch is a Dark Presence.

Scratch can create, more so, if we believe certain someone, he’s a magnificent visionary.

Scratch is knowledgeable enough, but somewhat restricted by Alan’s previous experiences.

Scratch killed Alan multiple times; if we believe Alan, he also stole from him and desires to become him.

Scratch might have the memory problems Alan has.

Scratch has a tremendous paranatural power inside and outside the Dark Place.

Scratch can use anyone as a host in our world.

Scratch can use Alan as a host in the Dark Place, if he can use someone else, is not clear.

Scratch is overprotective over Alan, he kills him, yes, but he also kills Noir-Casey when Alan is threatened. One might call this a toxic obsession.

Scratch is in love with Alice, knows she’s alive, and was actually created from Alan’s love for Alice.

Scratch was named after Mr. Scratch, yet he’s a huge downgrade from a clever, charming and sadistic dark being we saw in AWAN.

Scratch is D!Alan on steroids: they both are Dark Presences, both can create, both are Alan, both represent the part of Alan that is nasty and angry, yet there is a notable difference.

Scratch doesn’t want to destroy Alan even after he’s won, he wants to reunite with Alan. In many ways Scratch is R!Alan who refuses to give up.

Scratch is insecure and wants to be admired, wants to be a real artist, revered for his genius and literary skill.

Scratch is made of contradictions: he kinda cancelled the Deerfest, and made Bright Falls a little less bright according to Pat, to… make an eternal Deerfest with sunshine and rainbows! He is a mindless monster, as he presents himself during the boss battles, but he is a patient planner, as we know from his time inside Alan’s head and then possession of Casey at the right time. Scratch is a ruthless killer, but he doesn’t kill Rose, who actually has the audacity to hide on his property, more so, after he has his way, no townsfolk are killed.

Scratch makes few appearances in Initiation: in the metro and in the hotel, he does a lil’ jumpscare in the cinema, but doesn’t participate much in this draft.

Scratch tricked and betrayed Seine, if we believe this soapy story.

Scratch and Alan were never seen in one room as doubles; one might say Scratch looks like a black cloud with photos of Alan, attached to it with a stapler.

Scratch’s number might be 666.

To clarify some of the points. As stated, we never saw Scratch and Alan together in one room, Tim never saw Scratch, even Mr. Door never referred to Scratch directly, he talked about an evil double, but it doesn’t really mean he was talking about Scratch. As of now, we have to assume, that Scratch can operate only if he has a host: Alan that is; so his ability to write might manifest only when he possesses Alan. It would be quite hard to type as a destructive dark cloud with X-ray-like pictures of Alan attached to it. This point is also somewhat supported by BarbaraDP’s last words “I will find a new face to wear” as if she couldn’t do anything without a host. Taking all this, Scratch might be Alan unleashed: a magnificent visionary, because he couldn’t give a damn about the rules and hoops Alan created, or people he will hurt in the process, he just writes as he feels, and we know Alan himself have a pretty fucked up imagination. Scratch in his “magnificent visionary” mode is, probably, the greatest Master of the Dark Place on par or even stronger than D!Alan; and both of them are so powerful because of the same reasons.

Scratch, as Alan says, “got” him multiple times, and this is probably the times when Scratch was partying with Seine and writing the original Return. Or not partying, Scratch might’ve been hellbent on his task enough not to waste precious time before Alan will take control.

As a Dark Presence Scratch, obviously, has better awareness of the Dark Place and who’s in there, therefore his lines, when he chases Alan through the Wellness Centre about how everything will be theirs, including Alice, point to him knowing she’s alive and in the Dark Place; at this point Alan himself believes that she’s dead. And Scratch doesn’t need to use her as an incentive to harness Alan’s powers, he genuinely wants to just be, you know, happy: reunite with Alan and have it all, including their beloved wife. For him it is a happy ending, as Scratch puts it. Now here’s the question, that really bothers me: does Scratch know an easy way to free her from the Dark Place or does he refer to the entire world becoming the Dark Place therefore, the Wakes will be reunited? (Given his egotistic phantasies, obviously the latter, but it doesn’t mean he has no knowledge of an easy way out of the Dark Place.)

Scratch is a contradiction: with all the horror story elements he brought into Return, he also doesn’t have the Dark Presence’s tendencies we are used to. Yes, controlling people is bad, but he doesn’t want the world to be full of Taken, eternal darkness and whatever else BarbaraDP wanted; he wants it to be a happy place with a god-like Alan Scratch Wake (Seine’s cult-dreams are surely contagious). Which, to be fair, probably in a deeper way does align with what Barbara wanted, yet she lacked humanity, Scratch has plenty of it, no matter how twisted it is. Still, his quest for the world domination is not about what we saw before: for violence to have an oomph it lacks in the Dark Place, or feeding on suffering, or destruction for the sake of destruction; he just wants to be the most successful writer with the best wife (and fame, and worship, and everything revolving around him). Not the inhuman goals, let’s be honest.

Scratch might be a vessel into which Alan dumps everything he hates about himself, but he’s also the vessel for the determination and refusal to give up. In a way they are a twisted reflection of Alans from AW’s DLCs: Alan is the one who goes insane and wants to give up, let the waves carry him wherever, but doesn’t go on a mission to kill his other half; Scratch is the one capable of rational though and planning, but does try to kill Alan and is a Dark Presence. And “kill” here is pretty literal: Alan can die in the Dark Place, he just won’t stay dead, Scratch knows and abuses it. Even after Return was clicked to come true, if Scratch catches Alan, the death screen looks like possession and resembles the first time Alan got got in the talk-show studio.

Scratch’s number might or might not be 666, he does make an appearance in the room 666, and Alan says he can feel that Scratch was there, but there are many questions, surrounding this room.

Now there is a question why exactly Scratch never makes an appearance in the cinema. I’d say this draft of Initiation is so heavily influenced by Seine, Scratch just doesn’t have a place there. But, wait, wasn’t the whole summary of Initiation, that we hear from Mr. Door at the very beginning about a writer, tormented by his evil double?

Moving on.

Alan Wake

Firstly, we need to establish that there are always multiple Alan Wakes. I’m not talking about figments of his imagination or even the shadows, that haunt the Writer’s City. At every given moment there is at least Alan-the-writer and Alan-the-character, where the former is the one who has the luxury of the TV, radio and the plot-board, and the latter is the one who’s roaming the Writer’s City, killing enemies, chatting with Tim and cosplaying a PI. But they are not the only Alans out there—there is the same pair of Alans in every loop and twist of the Spiral, countless Alans going through the motions at all times. I will talk only about those we see on the screen. (Oh, and Alan on TVs? I have no clue what he is. :D He might be a subconsciousness of either Alans we see, of some Alans from any other time, or even a memory, stored in a form familiar from the first game. I will exclude him altogether, there is not enough info to determine who he is, yet I will use his words.)

I would love to make a split for Alan-the-writer and Alan-the-character, but it’s already quite confusing with the amount of Alans we have highlighted only in this theory. So I will combine them and call them Wake for clarity. Before the usual list of relevant facts, let me quickly explain the difference between the Writer and the Character, and remind about the concept of the driver’s seat.

Last thing first: the driver’s seat was first introduced in The Writer DLC, when Alan entered Stucky’s gas station, complained about the location and remarked, that he was not the one in the driver’s seat. Which means, there is always an Alan in the driver’s seat, who determines the rules, and is in control (at least, more than others). Counterintuitively I would say in AWII the Character is the one in the driver seat, not the Writer. Yes, the Writer can reshape the Dark Place under some circumstances, but I would challenge the idea that the Writer is creating what the Character is experiencing—I think it's all just remnants of the previous loops—the Writer is documenting what’s happening, he's more of a tool. The Character is going through a hero’s journey and the Writer is just there to help, he’s that voice that narrates what’s happening, transforming a nightmare into a story. We rarely see the Writer having an insight that the Character doesn't have, but we see the Character having it all the time—the echoes come through him, the very first time we play as Alan, it is the Character, thinking there was no Dark Place in his life at all. Like in the first game we have the Character make his way to the cabin, in AWAN, again, Alan steps into the shoes of the Character; in AWII the Character makes the story, sees the echoes, learns about Alice and even if he dies, the Writer dies too, yet if one really thinks about it, it should be vice-versa: if the Writer stops writing, the Character dies, but if the Character dies, the Writer can write anything from new protagonist to resurrection. The only times when they are merging or meeting is when the Character steps into the real Writer’s Room, accessing from the apartment in Parliament Tower.

There is another Writer, who, I believe is not a mere tool, as those two; but we will talk about him a bit later. For now, I just wanted to establish who is in the driver’s seat—Alan-the-character. With that out of the way, to the important points:

Wake gave up. Multiple times actually.

Wake is a shadow of his former self; no matter what other Alan we look at, Wake is the most confused, scared, lonely, uncertain and needs a hug (even completely insane D!Alan, albeit, with questionable desires, comes off stronger and with clearer goal). And it started even before Control’s AWE.

Wake’s memory is practically non-existent, it’s just a suggestion. Throughout the game we see some improvement, but we start with him thinking, that he never experienced 2010 and needs to come back home to Alice by dinner.

Wake is not of sound mind. He didn’t lose all his marbles, but surely has a shortage in that department.

Wake somehow managed to strike a friendship with Ahti.

Wake somehow managed to involve Mr. Door into his plans: at least two times. Mr. Door is playing the role of the host on In-Between and also a host for Night Springs. If there is any other things Mr. Door is forced to perform for Alan is unknown as of now. I would pile that up with the manuscripts about Door in 80’s and the one Tim transported into the Dark Place; Alan giveth, Alan taketh.

Wake shaped the Dark Place into the Writer’s City. The Return defines it not as “the Wake’s personal and shamelessly overgrown puddle,” but “the ocean that was the Dark Place itself.“

Wake also defined the Dark Place as Ahti’s bucket; but two things can be true at the same time.

Wake consciously controls time and aware of this ability of his.

Wake is bound by the rules and surroundings he himself created and imposed—in part to torment himself.

Wake leans into the darker themes, believing them being more effective for achieving goals.

Wake has to go through the Hero’s Journey of Initiation before he can attempt to escape.

Wake goes through three separate yet connected drafts of Initiation and there is a forth one, that exists on its own.

Wake can be seen in one room with: other entities, such as Ahti, Door, and Tim; other Alans, such as Wake, Noir-Casey, Seine, and the dark cloud of Scratch.

Wake’s spiritual animal is an owl; an owl represents him and his.

Wake can reach into our world, creating thresholds right and left; he doesn’t fully understand how it works and the consequences.

Wake is elevated and tremendously powerful, his problem is not lack of ability, it’s lack of understanding and knowledge.

Wake can die but won’t stay dead in either worlds as of now.

Wake in creative collaboration with Alice created Scratch with the help of the bullet of light.

Wake can carry Scratch from the Dark Place to our world and back—in his head.

Wake can feel Scratch’s activity, but doesn’t understand much about it.

Wake can make Scratch do his dirty work in the Dark Place and in our world, “losing” the driver’s seat when it’s needed.

Wake is ready to return to his worst nightmare, sacrificing himself for the good of others and makes yet another leap of faith, believing Alice to be dead.

Wake has a peculiar case of a writer’s block at the end of Return.

Wake went through countless loops of Initiation-Return to arrive at the Final Draft.

Wake is the Master of Many Worlds.

Wake’s number might be 3. Just 3, yes.

That’s a weird collection of points, much was skipped, obviously. Let’s clear some of them up and get to the point, since it’s our last Alan to discuss before I will start drowning (meaning conclusion?). Through the points it can be seen, that from the most pathetic of Alans Wake goes to the most powerful one. He is, probably, Alan-ex-Phone at the end of the Final Draft. The second game is his Hero’s Journey, that he completed and his ascension, that happened at last, therefore we have conflicting points at the start and at the end.

Now, looking at all of it with the knowledge of the Final Draft, we can safely assume, that Wake’s state is self-imposed. He must remember nothing, he must be confused, he must not understand what’s going on, or he won’t act on his free will, won’t grow as a hero. The downgrade is needed for the story, because Wake has to suffer. Even the shape of the Dark Place, as written in the manuscript, is that of Noir-York just to torment Wake. Now, this manuscript is very important, the Door manuscript, that is given by Tim. First of all, it establishes that Wake turned the entirety of the Dark Place into the Writer’s City; everyone else, who has a puddle there, is a tenant for the landlord-Wake (and most of them are hating him and trying to kill him; sounds legit). Secondly, it shows how fucked up this ball of yarn of a story must be to meet the conditions. Multiple parties are being involved just into delivering this exact page: first the Door “allows” Wake to spy on him, then the page leaves the Dark Place, then someone has to find it to give it to Tim, for Door to snatch Tim away for him not to give up the manuscript too early, all this. It’s so overcomplicated, because Wake, as a true Alan is complicated. He gives powers right and left, making his “characters” immune to the story in the right moments or capable to decide when he can or cannot spy on them, when the mere name of any of them written on the page by his hand is already meaning he’s in control. Even Ahti has a mental breakdown because of Return, and he has the whole Dark Place in his bucket; the very Dark Place, which makes fiction, that torments him, come true.

I put the writer’s block here, because we have a similar case of Alan having a writer’s block in the middle of the story in 2010: when he tries to write something to give a ransom for Alice. Why both Wake and Alan have the same problem in the most important of times, only to have a spark of inspiration shortly after? Because they are in the story at those moments, if they will write a word, they might change the course of what was written.

Wake’s number. He doesn’t really have one, but everyone on this list were connected to a number, so I’ve decided why not? Wake is strongly associated with three: three drafts, three loops, three stories, three owls, three main players for Initiation, (only!) three costumes in the extra-menu… pardon me.

The Drowning

Time to explain myself, I guess. Let’s start with Tom Zane; he’s the first in the list and has a long history of being a suspect in the creation of Alan Wake. So, why do some think he wrote Alan and his story, when the Bright Presence on his behalf explicitly stated that he’s not the author of Alan’s story? Two things: the manuscript in the Well-Lit Room and he simply was first. Both might not be true.

With the manuscript in the Well-Lit Room, I assume, everything is quite clear; I explored the possible scenarios where Tom was the author in the section about Zane, but I will quickly recap it. Tom couldn’t write this manuscript without Alan writing him write it because Tom didn’t want the Dark Presence to return and the manuscript would be exactly that: writing the Dark Presence’s return. Tom also is content on his private isle in the Dark Place, as This House of Dreams states through the Bright Presence, so he has no business writing Alan’s Amazing Adventures in Bright Falls. This House of Dreams is twice canonised in Control and AWII and still is a valid source of information; Tom’s happy-ever-after is also confirmed by the boys of OGoA in Herald of Darkness. With this said, the whole first game is written by Alan, everything and everyone there is acting as he wrote them to act; therefore, the Bright Presence, being “Tom” in Alan’s mind, could produce the page, but the content of the page is what Alan wanted it to be. In other words, Alan, being an author of this story is an author of everything written by the characters of his story.

With Zane being first things get a bit more complicated. Let’s dive into the dark ocean of connections,time manipulations and other boring, mundane stuff. In the Zane section I pointed out how there are many things that connect Tom’s story with Alan’s story, I will recap them as well. Tom and Alan both are successful writers, have a muse for whom they are able to do unimaginable things, lost the muse to the Dark Presence in Cauldron Lake, were touched by the Dark Presence, wrote stories to defeat said Dark Presence, left behind a Number One Fan with a mission (who possesses the manuscript with a name of the “hero” for whom the manuscript is intended, and never reads it), a friend with traumatic memories, and townsfolk with PTSD and sensitivity to light. Now, this is surface connections, but if we dig deeper, we have more. Tor and Odin, after Alan is touched by the Dark Presence, recognise him as Tom; when Alan jumps into the lake, the Dark Presence literally pretends to be his muse and at the end of trying to coax him to go back to bed, slips up and calls him “Tom” as well. With all that Cynthia doesn’t recognise Alan as Tom’s double, and she would be most familiar with his features; as would be Hartman, who, as well, doesn’t see any similarities between Tom and Alan, aside from their reality changing powers. On the way to the cabin in the Dark Place, Alan hears a dialogue between Tom and Barbara, spoken with his and Alice’s voices. The lady on the photos in the Ordinary shoebox is fair-haired, instead of the Dark Presence’s dark-haired image. In The Writer when Rational Alan is on the bridge to the cabin, Dark Alan says ”it was even taking the people Wake knew, turning his friends against him,” yet in the battle the people against Alan are Barry (friend, check), Tor and Odin (???) and Hartman (Tom’s friend), which is very curious choice of people. I understand why Tor and Odin could be considered friends, but why Hartman? Why not Sarah, whom Alan bonded with? Now, if you choose to believe that AWAN ended with Alan and Alice going to the private isle in the Dark Place and live their happy ever after as did Tom and Barbara, even more connections emerge. The drowning cabin in AWAN is yet another hint, that the story was repeated. The question is: which story was actually first?

I already noted that Zane’s solution with cutting the heart out and diving into the lake sounds awfully like a messy first attempt to have somewhat happy ending. We learn about it during the week, that plays out according to the story Alan wrote: everything there comes from him, even the TV’s that he sees, even the shoebox he finds, and certainly the manuscripts we read. The very manuscripts, that describe what happened in the 70s: the narrative takes us back in time and we look at what happened there through the eyes of Tom Zane. That can answer the who wrote whom question. Does it matter whose story happened first now, if we know for sure that Alan’s works can change past as easily as present or future? With all the connections I mentioned, and the very presence of Tom in the theory that counts Alans we have in games, I think it’s obvious what I’m going for. Tom Zane is Alan from the first loops of Departure: he failed to save Alice then, but as his wont, left some breadcrumbs for his future self to learn. Later his story evolved and he got a new name and different, yet very vague background, turning into a plot device just like Noir-Casey in the second game: a character, who helps and gives Alan a torch and a gun. The books in the cabin were placed into a shoebox deliberately, the memorial for Tom and Cynthia’s articles weren’t erased, because they had to be found. In the beginning of the Final Draft Alan says “a fictional poet once wrote” before reciting Tom’s poetry; Alan is pretty capable of writing poetry, we can see it in This House of Dreams, and the poet, written by him, would be a fictional poet. The filmmaker, obviously could not create the poet, since his movie is based on Alan’s novel.

Another thing I want to address here is AWAN’s ending. Again, I believe Alan and Alice from AWAN did end up in their own baby-universe in the Dark Place; as I stated in the first part, in the manuscript Alan calls the film his salvation, their salvation. It’s important that it’s “his” not “hers,” because it’s not the answer to the grave danger Mr. Scratch poses to Alice (the very reason Alan scrapped the very first Return to write this Return), it’s the answer to Alan being separated from Alice. Those words are also followed by “our chance to be together,” which, again, has nothing to do with saving Alice from the evil double. If Alice’s film did create a safe place for them to be together, considering that AWAN takes place somewhere around This House of Dreams’ events, the story of Tom Zane could’ve been rewritten again; Tom and Barbara could’ve gotten the happy ending after Alan learned how to achieve it. It’s not the escape ending he wanted, but it is better than being trapped in the nightmare part of the Dark Place or possessed by the Presences. And This House of Dreams might be an extra that was designed to help us figure out what happened in the end of AWAN and answer all the questions that were left unsolved at the time: with the pictures that show suspiciously Alice-like lady, who is said to be “the diver’s girlfriend;” the story of the Last Poem; the nature of the Presences and the Dark Place; sets of poems that show Alan’s capability in this craft; and what exactly was the shiny-floaty thingie from the first game.

Which leads me to the explanation I promised: why didn’t I split Tom and the Bright Presence. There might’ve been no Bright Presence in the first game or it’s DLCs. We learn about the story of the Bright Presence after—it was not written in Departure, in Departure the floaty-shiny thingie was Zane; it might’ve changed in the DLCs, where the story was not written, but dreamed, it might’ve been written by the Master of Many Worlds Alan, who finally decided on what the Bright Presence is. Depends on how you want to interpret the line “but… I am not…” in The Writer: is it about the Bright Presence not being Zane, is it about the Bright Presence not writing the manuscript on his own volition, or is it about something else. Ultimately it doesn’t matter, the Bright Presence doubles down on the identity of Tom Zane shortly after, when he levitates the tree; therefore, I would assume he didn’t do anything Tom wouldn’t do.

The last things left to address here are the line in Herald of Darkness, that separates Alan and Tom: “he could write a new story like Tom Zane before him,” and how the boys talk about Tom in the first game, calling him “the other writer.” The argument might be made that if the boys see them as different entities, then they should be; as there is nothing more trustworthy than the Old God’s songs. Yet, if we read into it as if Tom were the character of Alan’s story, who ultimately won the happy ending by writing a new story, it’s not unimaginable to use—in a song—those words: Tom Zane, being a character in a story, was put into the same struggle before Alan and managed to make his way out of it. “The other writer” is not in a song, and can be taken with a grain of salt, as the boys didn’t recognise Alan as Tom when Odin asked him to put Coconut, they only recognised him after the Dark Presence’s touch. They also call Alan “boy” and “sonny” even after they recognised him as Tom, which is a tad sus, since if they would see him as their long-lost friend from the 70s, they wouldn’t have a habit to address him as their junior, they would be more or less same age. The boys were in their thirties at the time Tom’s ordeal took place, for them to see him as “sonny” material, he should’ve been what, ten?

How it all comes together. I want to repeat the most important part in taking in the first game’s events: we do not see neither first nor last loops of the story; we do not know how it started nor ended; we are thrown into the middle to end and see at best the penultimate loop, as it is partially confirmed, that something akin to the first game indeed happen in the reality of the second game. At any time in previous loops Alan could rewrite everything including how exactly the Wakes ended up in Bright Falls, moving his previous attempts to save Alice to 70s as a set of dos and don’ts. It works exactly as it does in the second game, and we see the remnants of his tries that are left behind: the boys remember him as Tom Zane, but also see him as their junior, calling him “boy” or “sonny”, being the only ones with powers to pierce the story a little bit; the cabin is still there at the start of the story, but disappears shortly after with a very questionable explanation; the plane, which carried people attracted to study the 70s eruption is crashed in 2010 inexplicably, with Alan witnessing it; and all the other little things that slipped through the cracks of changing the past so drastically. Could Tom become his own person in this mess of a spiral? He could’ve, not like we don’t have other examples of this happening; Barry and Casey do act like separate entities, and we have even more examples to discuss. Speaking of.

So, Tom Zane is Alan from the first loops of Departure, who ended up being a supporting character, and whose story was rewritten multiple times; who’s Tom Seine then? This is the moment where we step into the territory of the holy trinity of owls, which, as you could’ve guessed by now, is represented by Wake, Seine (665) and Scratch. I’ve pushed the idea of 665 being yet another Alan even before the NS DLC came out, but with it pointing out how they are indeed the same entity as Scratch and Alan are the same entity, there are just all the more evidence.

What do we have aside from the DLC? Ahti makes no difference between Tom Seine or Alan, in his eyes they are the same person, who at the same time is a filmmaker and has a photographer wife; he addresses Alan as Tom, but not Tom-the-poet. The film, that was created to free 665 and Alan from the Dark Place is the same film that allegedly won multiple awards in what? 60s? 50s? Obviously something here is not right, but what’s even less right is the Tom the Poet film, that was based on Alan’s novel. 665 also cannot be Tom Zane from the first game, or even an extension of him, since he’s lacking everything that made Tom Zane Tom Zane: he didn’t live in the cabin, wasn’t a diver, didn’t have a muse-girlfriend who was important for him even after decades in the Dark Place, wasn’t a poet. More importantly, we have the Control’s cutscene, that shows how the encounter in room 665 was somewhere in the beginning of the loops; Seine is a mirror image of Alan from the first game, but he’s already started to differentiate himself from yet-another-Wake, he has different voice and different attitude. And it’s not like we don’t have examples of this: Barry even looks differently, as does Casey; R!Alan has a completely different experience from D!Alan and his attitude is almost opposite; even the two Alans that interact in the second game look a tad different and have a completely different attitude. It all depends on the experience and what shaped them. The more 665 remembers from the loops, the more he is distancing himself from Alan: first the voice, the place, then he’s getting a make-over and turns against Alan completely. His connection still allows him to try to take the driver seat, to take control, and switch places with Alan. In this he’s not unlike Scratch, for some reason they both need to take the driver seat from Alan.

Were 665 his own man, why would he need to do that? Why is he acting like the Dark Presence that has to find a face to wear? Can he be yet another dark presence? Maybe? Considering how Scratch was born from Alan’s love for Alice and D!Alan was a result of desperation arguably everything that’s made from Alan’s feelings or experiences could be considered a dark presence if it acts accordingly; 665 is somewhere in between. Aside from the possession (or more like place-switching, which is not how Scratch does it or how Barbara’s Dark Presence did it in the past) and maybe his own Taken, he lacks every other characteristic of a dark presence: no dark clouds, no mystic powers, no jumpscares. Yet, 665 needs Alan’s… I’m not sure here, body? Realness? Both can do, I guess, since 665 wants to take Alan’s place. Why in the world, were he his own entity, he would need Alan’s place, seized in the Dark Place? With his likeness he could get out and take over Alan’s life as Mr. Scratch, who was his own entity, tried to do. But for some reason 665 needs to switch places before he attempts to escape.

This can be written off as his malice; he’s acting in a way that suggests that he doesn’t only wants to escape, he wants to trap Alan as well. Throughout all three drafts of Initiation 665 is the one to pull strings, to backseat and guide Alan into traps: one after another, the biggest of them being scaring him into haunting Alice and then pumping him up to kill Scratch without hesitation. 665 never shows that anything was done in Alan’s best interest, on the contrary, in everything he does, he comes off as manipulative and antagonistic. But malice alone is not enough, since 665 fails to achieve the most important of his goals—to actually escape.

Time to queue Scratch in. Between 665 and Scratch, and it might sound mad at first, Scratch is a good guy. And hear me out, he actually is. Obviously the dead give away being Scratch’s lines in the very end of the game, where it is clear what his goals are: Alice and world domination. Alright, the latter is quite questionable for a good guy, but, hey, a dark presence can dream, right? Jokes aside, Scratch doesn’t want anything Alan doesn’t want, more so, he wants to share it: he wants to be a successful writer, to reunite with Alice and do all this with Alan—after merging and becoming whole. Scratch doesn’t really go nicely about it, but we can see how he’s in many ways not the sharpest axe in the shed: he’s animalistic and abrasive, he sees the target and goes for it. With some exceptions his answer to anything is murder. And that’s what makes his role in the second game so fascinating. Let’s look at it from different perspective, shall we?

Scratch’s straightforwardness allows us to take his word: he wants Alan to “come home,” to reunite and become whole. He’s not against him, he’s actually team-Alan through and through. He shares goals and desires, yet lacks nuance to understand them fully. Scratch is literally a love-child, that is he was created from Alan’s love for Alice. He is going for the right things in the most wrong ways possible. With that said, if we look at his actions through the lens of what he said in the Wellness Centre, they might be not so antagonistic after all. First encounter with him allows Alan to snap out of his state of delusion, when he thinks he’s still in the real world and just doing a show before going home to Alice; in the metro he appears to remind Alan about the Dark Presence (and curiously destroying the cult altar); in the hotel he actually politely waits until after Alan finished watching another episode of Alex Casey before chasing him away from room 666. Was murder a good way to go about all those things? Not really. Was it necessary? Most likely, violence is something he believes in. In the first encounter everything is easy enough, Alan had to snap out of delusions to try and get out. In The Writer the Bright Presence makes it very clear: one must abandon all delusions to survive in the Dark Place, let alone to escape. In the subway Alan has to remember; his memory is a very important point in his hero’s journey. In the hotel… well, we need to talk about room 666.

Room 666 is obviously connected to Cynthia and her story of becoming Taken, and leads to Tom Seine. In his part I mentioned how we kinda don’t have a manuscript about him, and it’s partially true, we cannot be sure who “Tom” from Cynthia’s manuscript is, it might be 665, might be her imagination. What we do know is that some Taken can have two stories: Nightingale is killed in the Dark Place by cultists before he’s killed in the real world by cultists again; same goes for Cynthia, she’s killed (taken) in the bath in the real world by a mysterious man before she’s killed in the bath in the hotel by the Devil. Curiously, she spends some time in a “hotel in New York with Tom,” before she goes to deal with Tor, by pressing herself into the dark water, which she recognises as “Tom.” Everything here hints that the mysterious man in the bathroom in Valhalla and “Tom” from the hotel are the same person; but also is the Devil from the play. There is only one character, who fits all three of them: 665. He’s taken the identity of Tom Zane, he lives in the hotel in “New York” and he’s a cult leader. He’s also conveniently neighbouring room 666, where the Devil is located. So, why does Scratch allow Alan to see the vision before chasing him away? Why does he even chase Alan away in the first place? What if room 666 is yet another trap, where Alan is in more danger than he realises?

There is also the third draft of Initiation, where the Grand Master of the Cult of the Word makes an appearance and the most interesting Initiation 0, summarised for us by Mr. Door. The Grand Master and the whole cinema story-line are an ending of sorts to the whole cult ordeal in all the previous drafts; we get the Yoton Yo and the character-creator question to explain what was the deal with the Cult of the Word and what was their plan. It goes to show that even if all the drafts are separate attempts, they are also tightly connected. Which makes the Initiation 0 even more important: who’s the evil double, that torments the writer? If we are to look at this question without the knowledge of the previous games or Alan’s mad ramblings about Scratch and Mr. Scratch, the answer is evident: there is only one other character, who appears as Alan’s double and can be classified as “evil”—665. Scratch not only arguably not evil or against Alan, he’s also not a double, he has no body, he’s a presence, literally; Alan in the point of the story where he shoots himself from the past is surely not evil. Can Initiation 0 be this cheeky little hint, that the tormenting of Alan is not done by Scratch?

Alans are plenty, but let’s not forget, that the whole story of the games is a love story after all. And there is a last piece of evidence, that shows—we might not even come close to see all the Alans there is.

Alice. Love is strange. Even apart, we are still together in our memories. We put each other through hell to set us free. Again and again. Different versions of us. Alice helped me get there. Where I needed to be. It has taken so long. The process to change reality is so delicate, to be true in just the right way, and still find a way past our flaws. So many drafts. So many photographs. So many lives lived outside time, an eternity apart on this journey to finally arrive here.

#rcu theory #alan wake #alan wake 2 #alan wake game #alan wake ii #remedy connected universe #alan wake's american nightmare #awan #remedy entertainment #remedy games #thomas seine #thomas zane #tom seine #tom zane #scratch #alex casey

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ikkosu · 1 year ago

Text

MY DARLING MEDIC

(fem.human.medic.reader x pharma)

summary : tarn strikes up a deal with pharma. but when he refuses, the tank takes up a more personal measure to confront him.

warning : angst. fluff (if you look real close💀). blood. this is the DJD what'd you exoect. bro I fucking died writing this. wanted to cut this in like several parts but decided to merge it together. wanted to write this into a multi-chaptered fic but my commitment could never. could be a series ig. lovely headers by @cafekitsune

One moment he's caught Ambulon at gunpoint, then the next he’s scampering down the halls, clutching the vials close to his chassis as he tears through for an exit. The game is up. He should've known better than to nab the easy path. Responsibility purges itself a mile away when confronted at the baseline of his problems. Now, it's got him cornered and Ratchet — who barged into the room — his friend, his oh-so-dear friend, pulls up a blaster.

PHARMA doesn’t know what to say.

Points it at his face.

His own mirth were flaked with rust, crinkled into a grimace, where along the crevices, the miniscule cracks, oozed spatter of crimson. The gun was unsteady; he’s shaking. He's infected. The uncomfortable feeling of your insides twisting punched him back. It gutted him more than he could realize and he’s got no guts, just thrumming circuits struggling, and failing, to prevent the inevitable.

So he does just that— prevent the inevitable.

A, one, two, three BANG of bullets barrage the other side of the room. Disregarding the startled shout of surprise, he stepped round the corner, making a beeline for the shaft. Storms of remorse whirled around his processors as he pulls himself up the ladder. It jostled and creak, much like how his jitter palms does when he's drunk on andrenaline.

He’s made that mistake again. He should’ve known better. He should’ve. Impulse stumps logic and now, he's outside. In the cold. Digits clinched the edge, close to slipping. Close to falling. Ratchet is aboven and where his optics catch below, he can see the fall, the descending vertigo of ire before his eyes.

“Pharma, buddy — what the hell happened to you?”

YOU scroll aimlessly through the datapad.

He doesn’t know; he might never will.

Propped against the armchair, legs crossed and ankle bobbing, the screen flared your face with a soft blue-ish glow as the lines of words blurred together the more you strained to stare.

You're bored. Tired, too. But mostly bored. You were able to rest in your office after a tough match with several unruly patients. They were mechs. Pretty big mechs. And, they were a little, ah, how do you put this, organicophobes?

One of them had a more dire diagnosis : a t-cog malfunction. A type 3 kind. One that involved the t-cog overheating from too much usage, causing it to, in a way if you were to explain in human terms, like an organ, rot. It was deteriorating quick and the metal shards, miniscule ones, had already infected the internal circuitry.

A kind of job that required smaller, steady hands.

In short, they required humans.

You can handle a bit of discrimination — resentment against Organics was normal here despite the rules ensured to prevent so — but it still gutted you, knowing these mechs can do better than to hate another race from their own.

Especially when the said race tried to save their life.

A little bit of acknowledgment doesn't hurt from time to time.

You hope they were doing well, though.

The silence of the room was broken by footsteps approaching your office. The sliding doors opened with a swish and there you could discern the wide Cheshire grin of smugness amidst the slight darkness of the room. You should really stop shutting the lights, its begging to hurt your eyes. His teeth were practically glowing and was obvious he's quite in a good mood today.

You tucked the datapad inside the cabinet and caved against the cushion of the armchair, tipping your chin up into a smile, brimming with curiosity. One much as a 'whats he gonna pull this time?' type of curiosity.

“Working hard, I presume?” He croons, slinking across the room to your cubicle with several strides.

You quirk a brow; he's got something behind his back but you don’t press.

“Depends on which report you’re haggling me about,” You reply back, a playful smile. “Though, I can’t say for sure which region I am currently hard in, doctor. Would you like a scan?"

It catches him off gaurd for a moment — a simple one, two, three blink of his optics and your smile prods wider upon the not so subtle twitch of his wings. It sags in frustration.

“And here I thought I might have, for once, an appropriate greeting from my darling. I can never grasp your vulgar little mind, no less the entire mapping of your organic, squishy little brain,” His optics twitches as he vents. "But I’m not here to lecture you on prudence, no. I’ve got you a little, ah, herbal gift from my trip off world. The one you adore so much.” Then he adds with a mumble. "So much more than me, apparently.”

You perk up, and if you’re anything like a bunny, those ears would straghten right up to the brim. "What, like tea?”

"Even better, dear."

A ceramic mug is quickly perched onto your desk with a clink. You can't help but to coo in adoration at the utterly adorable little thing. It’s those tiny little teacups with teal blue flowers pasted across. A petite like holder, round and smooth, accommodated the curl of your finger. Nostalgia wrings you nto its clutches, back to teatime with your stuffed animals. You'd always be the princess.

You inhale the drink, warm steam wisps from tea, the color is an emerald-like-ore cadence under the stark white light.

"Since when did they have green tea in Nexus?"

"Earth, apparently. Globalization this, Space-localization that. Ignore the specifics. I'm sure you're better off without another lesson in economy?"

"I'd rather keep my thinking intact."

“Hm, that's a lot less fun. Anywho, I've taken some of my time to make it myself.” He pronounced, optics closed, regarding the cup with a theatrical wave proudly. "In fact, I have purchased the finest, well-endowed tea packet from the best of the best merchants. Never mind the cost, it's a splendid little thing, no?”

You’re still a little stunned admiring the cup but you blurt the first thing to mind.

“Smells fruity, for sure.”

He snaps one optic open, then entire look falls into offense. “Fruity is not what I had in mind.”

Ah, fuck.

"....nice?”

"Not that, either.”

“Ah, er, well — Great....?"

“Try again, dear.”

“C'mon docbot, what do you want me to say?”

”I’ve bought a tea packet that costs more than what this entire hospital is worth and you're describing it as 'nice?'”

You scrambled for words, fishing for the right one until— “Fragrant!" You snap your finger. "Right, fragrance.”

He stares.

You stare.

His rigidness loosens a little.

“One of these days I should really lecture you on the essence of compliments. See there? The mug is a ceramic. I’ve taken much care to handle it. It's from a lovely old organic. Her little shop in Nexus are a must to visit again."

You lean against your palm, eyes crinkled, cheeks round with warmth. “Is this a compensation?"

"For breaking your bed, yes—" you choke a little at that "—Now, go on, taste it.” He bends over to rest his elbows on the table, perching his chin on his two servos like a girl would, kicking their little feet during a sleepover.

“Don’t you have to buy me a new bed to compensate for that?”

He huffs, “ I already did. This is a bonus. Now, stop stalling. I have a patient to tend in a few hours and unless you've not taken a sip, I'm not going anywhere."

"Right, right. No pressure, doc."

"Very much."

You pinch the cup between your index and thumb. A pinkie is jutted out the for dramatics where you caught his lethargic look of disdain to it. And the final act concludes when the rim kisses your lips and you take a sip.

"Well?"

You stare at the ceiling for a moment.

"s'good...woah, real good." You blink in surprise, licking your lips to process the taste. "It's like my mother's! How'd you make this?"

“I was hoping you’d ask that.” He takes it upon himself to sit on your desk, inching close. "It's a, well, how do I put this — an obscure ingredient I am not willing to disclose."

"...You didn't lace this with laxatives didn't you?" You challenge.

"Laxatives?" He almost balks. "No, of course not. Why would I ever do such a thing? Think again."

You squint like that'll help you think. "Vanilla extract?"

"No."

"Oh, come on! Sugar?"

"Not a chance, dear."

"Milk."

"Far from close."

"Salt?"

"Are you serious?"

"What is this, 20 questions? I'll die by the time I cover the whole list of ingredients." You stand up with a huff.

All he does return, however, is a bemused crinkle of mirth from his eyes.He says nothing, only curling out a digit where it prods the area just above your chest. He taps it. Once. Then twice. It took a moment before the cogs turned on its own, and when it does, your cheeks flared up much to your chagrin.Oh. Oh. Your heart. The secret ingredient is—

—love?

You slumped to your chair, clutching your face to fight away the embarrassment at his audacity. You wanted to say it was the lamest, cheap, heart grabbing compliment of all time but you can't.

You just can't.

It's too....sweet.

"I swear Pharma...." If anything, you're reduced to a sputtering mess.

"Pharma? Not so much. I think 'God' would be the latter end. I swear to God, no?"

"Okay smartass."

"I know my rear-end is quite fine. Though, reduce your compliments to the bedroom, please."

"Pharma!"

There was something innately fond with how he’s fixated upon your scrunched up faces and agitated eyes.

Your eyes, they were always so expressive, so bright, much like stars when they flicker amidst the darkest night. A miniscule notion yet so wide in prominence. A haven he could dwell in when plagued upon with sullen days.

He couldn’t resist, and with his digits squishing your cheeks, he pulls you close. The agitation melts the moment you feel his lips against your temple, cheek, nose then your lips.

You glare at him when he pulls away."

"...You’re really making it hard for me to focus my angry molecules into an explosive blast, you know."

“Blast? Please, the least you can do is wield a knife and you're horrible at combat.Also, that's scientifically inaccurate.”

“Oh, shut up.” You look away, faltering at the sight of the door. “....You know what I meant.”

“How about you, as the humans would say, shut me up for a change?" His eyes became playful, tone borderline seductive. You're still fixated on the door. “On the topic of something explosive. Since we’re getting off our shift early today, I was wondering if you’re willing to test the new coils on our bed—“

“….Pharma?” But your eyes on fixed on somewhere else, or someone behind him.

"Doctor."

That isn't your voice.

Pharma’s sensor flares much as his wings did when he whirled around. His spark churned at the sight of the engraved decepticon insignia on his chassis and the gruesome signature mask upholstered on the mech’s face. A mask intended to revel fear, douse the flames of sanity.

Instantly the atmosphere shifted.

It dawns upon him how vulnerable he currently is. How close youre in proximity to the tank. How easily he could tear through the room and kill you. Lodge a knife through your chest. Leave you there on the floor. Skull, cracked. Brains, spooling. Blood agash. A simple red stain on the rag.

Pharma is terrified — he’s terrified of his unpredictability. Whatever thoughts are churning in his head are reduced to a blank slate as his shadow looms over, dwarfing his frame. He's not even moving. Just lingering there by the door. Any second now he could lose his temper and any second later you could be dead. Reduced to atoms. When crimson eyes flickered over, leaning to the side to get a better look, Pharma steps aside to shield you from his gaze.

“I’ll be there, Tarn.” He says stiffly.

The mech regards you for a moment before striding off. Away. The doors swished closed. How'd he knows where he was?

“Who’s that?” You ask, an innocent question he wished he could answer but Pharma pulls you up to your feet, his optics locked on the door.

“No one important, darling .” He replies yet he's already packing your stuff, pulling and shoving everything from your desk. His servos are jittery, wings twitching, brows furrowed.

You follow him around, wringing your hands. "Pharma? I thought you said—“

“Go home without me, dear.” He whirls around after tucking in your jacket into the last slot of your pouch and slips the bag over your shoulder. "It’s late and you have an early shift tommorow, no?"

You deflate, defeated. "Yeah, but i—"

"I have a meeting to attend. It'll be be fine. I won't stay up too late, I promise."

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He’s composed but you know he’s not. You know from the twitch of his digits he’s hiding something. He's a cunning deceptive man amidst all the layers but he's never a good liar. You wonder if it’s a reasonable time to press but in the end he’ll just figure out another lie to deceive you.

It'll hurt to leave.

You give him a wry grin. “Don’t stay up too late then or she’ll hog the covers.”

“Fortify the bed for me.” He pulls you for a kiss. "Get home safe."

PHARMA doesn’t want to open the door.

"Will do, doc bot."

Instead, he's pacing the front, wringing his servos, muttering to himself. He knows he should. But the temptation to stride in, get it over with, then walk back out was inviting. An in and out kind of ordeal wasn't the kind Tarn tolerates, much rather, he's mech hiding behind the facade of patience.

He's the worst to impatient.

Steeling himself, Pharma juts his chin up, bearing his usual haughty demeanor and barges through the door. Tarn's imposing presence was enough to halt his circuity but he pulls on the act, pedes an impatient thunk against the floor he rounds the desk, slumping on the chair. Unbothered.

“Make it quick. I have my duties to attend. Another influx of patients up from the east were admitted today. My schedules are full."

Tarn says nothing, regards him for a moment before tossing a deception insignia onto the table. It skidded across, bumping his elbow. By the scrapped off sheen of metal surrounding the symbol, it appears to be ripped out. There’s still energon on it. Barely dry. Pharma pulls away with a grimace. He needed air.

"One of your patients that I've taken care of."

By taken : unruly, unethical forms of torture.

“You ruined a nicely done table in favor of your dramatics.”

“Dramatics to which I prefer not to be taken ever so loosely, doctor." He flicks off a chip fron his talons. It plinks on his desk.

“You’re hiding them here.” He grits, a smooth croon of his voice. So deep, relaxing if not for the fact that he's close enough to snap his neck broken.

“No, I do not,”

“You know better than to lie to me, Pharma. You see, I know everything and it doesn’t take long for me to wrench that truth out of you, I assure you. So, answer me : are you hiding them here?"

“What does it matter to you?"

"A whole lot if you're anywhere close to the ranks of a deception warrior. But, for this circumstance, I will turn a blind eye to it and leave you alone."

Pharma straightens up, surprise. "Impossible. There should be a catch."

He can imagine how smug the smile behind the mask is. A crinkle of his eyes, a gentle prod of his lips — a facade so deceiving it was hard to believe this mech was the cause for all the sufferings they've imposed upon those traitors.

"Yes. And I'll get to the point. I accepted your rejection to your proposal last week because I understood your hesitance. I gave you time to think about it and right now it is dire I require more stocks of the T-cogs. Refuse me and I'll have to take up a more, personal counteractive measure to persuade you."

Pharma stiffens. He tries not to glance at your framed picture on his desk.

"You wouldn't want that would you?"

He narrows his optics. “I don’t know what you mean,"

Tarn shoots out an arm, wide digits curled around his neck cables before he yanks him close, clamping down, choking him. The doctor struggles, clawing at his chest.

“You’re meddling with an organic, Pharma—"Tarn croons, squeezing tighter with every disgust that laced his word. "—That is what I mean and while I prefer not to cut out the pleasantries, she will suffer from the consequences of your actions if you’re not going to concede. So, I’m going to make myself clear. Do you accept that deal or do you not?’’

Pharma tugs on his wrist to loosen the grip

“Please, anything, please, I—“ He holds up his hands placatingly, choking down his last grip of pride. "I'll do it. I'll do it! Just don't..."

Please, don’t hurt her.

"....Just don't. She's innocent. Don't bring her into this, Tarn. She's a remarkable doctor, please—"

Tarn releases his hold. Pharma drops to the ground, clutching his neck.

"I'll send you the list of requirements and a few donors willing to concede. You know where to find me when a problem arises."

Pharma is still on the ground, shaking, pressing his helm against the cold, metal floor. The footsteps disappear much like the diminishing hope in his chassis.He shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have. Tarn and his sweet, sweet lies that’ were always so alluring, drawing him into the abyss.

You're in front of him. Behind was Tarn. He's got a blaster. And from the core were wisps of smoke,

THE tea cup, the one with the flowers painted across were discarded shards on the floor. Fragmented much like the reality he denies as he's wrangled behind. Arms tied. Wrists bounded. He stares, distraught.

”Ph..Pharma…” You’re confused as your palm hover overs the stain, the hole on your torso, the white a crimson red. You look down then up, expression contorted like you're asking him why. “I- I don’t understand…” You ramble and three frantic steps back you collapse, stumbling to the floor.

"What have you done....." Pharma tries to wrench away from Helex's grasp, voice rising to octaves. "Organic internal structures are weaker than a Cybertronians! This blow is fatal, do you not realize she'll die?!

Tarn steps over your body, and marches over to the jet, grabbing his face with a forceful shove. "Think again before you lecture me about those flesh-like scum. Why do you think I've chosen this method of action to condemn your actions with?"

"I couldn't get hold of the corpses in time!" He's frantic, shuffling, leaning aside to peer over the wide shoulders of Tarn. " They're not easy to get when you're a doctor every hour. I couldn't possibly kill the patients, cant I? Please, she needs medical attention, Tarn."

"And it's delayed, much like how you delayed my commodities."

"A deal is a deal. You should know better than to disrupt it."

He should've known better.

Pharma shoots out an arm, he clutches the white jacket, the sleeve, pulling the body. He ignores how heavy, how limp and lifeless you were, compared to the motning when you were just laughing, rolling around on the bed that smelt like lavender, smiling about some pointless joke you scoured from the net.

With each pull, crimson stained and scraped the concrete floor, grime collecting at the base of your body. He doesn't seem to mind. He's too tired. Much too lethargic. When he's got you in his arms, he cradles you, holding you. His digits pinch your cheeks, You’re not warm anymore. You’re cold. Just like his armour, just like the air, just like your eyes. Much like a star, it's doused. The brightness — it's gone. No longer flickering. A mass, the singular speck, gone.

“Pharma, buddy —what the hell happened?”

“Everything. Everything did.”

He cups your jaw, presses a kiss to your temple, your nose, then one last lingering kiss to your lips.

#maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers #ikkosuwrites #pharma #pharma x reader #idw pharma #angst #Tarn x reader #mtmte tarn #mtmte #idw #canon divergent #transformers idw #mtmte pharma x reader #mtmte pharma #mtmte tarn x reader

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terramythos · 10 months ago

Text

Anyway here's my breakdown of the ffxiv jobs, my opinions on playing each, and the tier rank of how good their story was

TANKS

WARRIOR - warrior is so fucking funny why did they make it able to solo heal itself and the entire party in 90% of the content in the game. Raw Intuition/Bloodwhetting is so broken in dungeons its hilarious. And then they have like 3 additional healing skills on top of that. And they kept buffing it throughout Endwalker. So it is currently the easiest to play, does the most damage (i think...?), and has the best healing of any of the Tank jobs. 2nd fave probably.

Story Tier: C, it's ok, Curious Gorge is a good name. i have like nothing to say about it it's a generic AF story

PALADIN - I used to hate PLD but I think the partial rework they got halfway through Endwalker helped it a lot. It's much less clunky now. Probably still my least favorite Tank though Hallowed Ground is fun and it's pretty close to Gunbreaker for me.

Story Tier: F, this is the worst class storyline in the entire game. It's so stupid. The writing is so bad the writers acknowledge it makes no sense at all and I'm like. Yeah, thanks, I am experiencing this shit. Perhaps write a story that makes sense next time instead of pointing that out.

DARK KNIGHT - Unfortunately this is my favorite Tank 🫡 which is rough since it has the worst survivability out of any of them. But I love how you use MP and the silly number of OGCDs. The Blackest Night is such a fun ability and it's a crime that it's not a baseline skill you get from the start. Why do they have so many DRs that only cover magic damage. I must ask.

Story Tier: S, there's a reason it's the most popular and well regarded class storyline. It's really good, also the only questline I know of that uses the quest log text as part of the narrative. Outside maybe a few of the very late Endwalker quests. And, well... same writer lmao

GUNBREAKER: I think GNB looks cool as fuck and I like that it has 2 DPS rotations. The Gnashing Fang combo is so fun. Superbolide memes are always fun. My main issue with it is a skill issue because I am just constantly misaligning its burst windows.

Story Tier: C. It has some interesting lore but I found it pretty forgettable as a story.

HEALERS

WHITE MAGE: I hated White Mage for a while but something clicked and now I totally get it. I find it fun in dungeons cause you get to Holy spam and stun lock everything. As uh. The healer. That's fun. Once you get Afflatus heals (and then Afflatus Misery) it clicks. It's fun maximizing damage and playing chicken with the tank's HP.

Story Tier: B, you get a lot of lore around the Padjal, and I think the Stormblood story where you find a padjal living in hiding with her mother is pretty good! Also it's not technically the job storyline but there's a WHM side quest to get a unicorn mount? i guess it's technically a CNJ quest but same diff. no one else gets that shit. so that's cool

SCHOLAR: probably my least favorite of the healers... it just feels super clunky. You can tell a bunch of different design philosophies went into it over the years and none of them mesh very well. They've made it so the Fairy Gauge controls literally one spell. Why have the gauge at all? It's also a huge missed opportunity that there's no tie in or interaction with the fae in Shadowbringers. I love the idea of a battle tactician healer but I think it needs a rework.

Story Tier: B+, I liked the characters and its the main way to get backstory and lore on what happened with Nym.

ASTROLOGIAN: While I think AST has a similar issue to SCH (lots of different design philosophies over the years) I find it way more fun to play. I like the card mechanic and how it interacts with the rest of the party. AST is basically the only job that has its own like. Minigame? As part of its rotation. And I know a lot of people don't like the RNG for it but personally I find it fun. I know AST is getting a redesign in Dawntrail so hope it's good.

Story Tier: C? I think? I'll be honest I don't remember it super well but I didn't find anything objectionable about it. And I like the tarot aesthetic and lore and how it's healing based on manipulating luck.

SAGE: I think SGE is tons of fun, I'm not sure if I like it or WHM more. I love all the skills SGE has for preventing damage and the gimmick where your DPS heals someone in the party. Visually the hi-tech laser shooting healer is a lot of fun. IT HAS A GAP CLOSER. The only thing i wish was it wasn't so MP negative and that it did more damage. It's a little sad its DPS output is so low compared to the other healers (even AST when you factor in how it buffs the party). Since SGE is supposed to be a healer that heals through damage it's silly its damage kinda sucks.

Story Tier: A, I loved this storyline. Both the Endwalker job stories are very self contained and interesting. While the twist is pretty obvious it's still an interesting exploration of uh. Scientific ethics. Yeah

PHYSICAL MELEE DPS

MONK: I've probably played MNK the least of the phys melee but I like the whole adaptable combo thing. Not much else to say since I have played it so little. Might bring it back out and try again. It DID have the funniest guide in the Balance discord for a while.

Story Tier: D. I think? I remember thinking it was dumb, lmao. Sorry.

DRAGOON: MAN I wished I liked DRG more. It looks so fucking cool and I like how it interacts with the dragon lore. But I find it very punishing to play. To do good damage you have to align so many different cooldowns... and snapshot your DOT correctly... and screwing one thing up just fucks your DPS output forever. Like AST I believe this is being reworked in Dawntrail so I hope it feels better to play.

Story Tier: C+. I think it starts strong since you get to meet Estinien pre-Heavensward and it melds nicely with that story. But I found it pretty directionless post-HW which is a shame.

NINJA: I remember finding this one fun. I like that there are different combos you do that have varied finishers depending on the situation. I am just... bad at remembering which combo to use to get which finisher, lol. So I haven't played it as much. NIN gets a lot of flavor other jobs don't get with their unique run and jump animations. And you get a Bunny of Shame on your head if you fuck up a combo, which is incredible.

Story Tier: A. The Rogue story is probably the most memorable of the basic class quests. Ninja just has great characters and a fun story. What is with that one guy. Karasu? If you know you know. I also like how the Rogue characters show up later in the Ninja story. That's fun.

SAMURAI: I had a similar experience to WHM here because I initially hated it then really came around once it clicked. SAM seems very complex, it has a ton of buttons and different combos. But it is actually quite intuitive once you figure out the general pattern. And it does INSANE damage. I think it's the highest DPS output in the game? I love building the combos and then doing a huge finisher for a bajillion damage. The guaranteed crits and constant OGCD weaves make me feel unstoppable. I think this is tied with RPR for me.

Story Tier: B+. I found the exiled samurai character and his journey toward redemption very compelling. I won't spoil beyond that. However it does fall apart a little in the second half. Still fun but not as good.

REAPER: I love RPR, the teleportation is a lot of fun, and I love finally unleashing the demon form and going ham on the enemy. The weapons are the coolest looking in the game. Every scythe design hits. I probably played this the most in Endwalker. My main critique is the Death's Design mechanic. I hate having to keep a stupid debuff on the target to do damage. It's like a dot but without the optimized snapshotting. If they want to keep this idea i think it would feel better to change it into something like SGE's Kardia where you apply it to one enemy to do increased damage to it without having to worry about reapplying it. not sure how they would balance this for aoe but that's not my job. But even with that caveat I still really enjoy the job.

Story Tier: A+. While it doesn't reach the highs of DRK's story it comes close. I love the badass old lady main character. Her hunting a voidsent that possessed her grandfather would be cool enough but making her a Garlean exile in hiding who grudgingly agrees to train you just adds an extra cool factor. I really enjoyed this story. As a bonus theres a lot of incidental dialogue in the post-6.0 Endwalker story if you completed the RPR story because it ties in a lot.

PHYSICAL RANGED DPS

BARD: It's a bit clunky, its got some outdated design elements, it has one of the lowest damage outputs in the game... and i LOVE IT. this was technically the first job I ever played? totally different character like 8 years ago. and i was so so bad. I think i am actually pretty good at current BRD. the animations look cool. i like that it's a class you really need to work for and optimize to eke out that last bit of damage. and boosting everyone else's damage by existing is kinda neat.

Story Tier: B. I'll be real I barely remember this but I do remember it was gay as fuck so immediately gets an extra tier for that.

MACHINIST: MCH is really funny right now because like. It's phys ranged, right. The design behind phys ranged is you have 100% uptime cause you can freely move around and not have to worry about cast timers or melee range or anything. So the trade off is that they do less damage than other classes. Endwalker MCH did not get the memo and does insane damage anyway. My controversial opinion is that it has similar burst DPS to RPR. No i will not elaborate. I'm also bad at doing good damage on MCH which is impressive since it is easy.

Story Tier: B+. Some Ishgard noble's gay son wants to build machines instead of killing dragons the good old fashioned way and has to prove himself to get taken seriously. A tale as old as time. See I haven't done this quest in like years but I still remember it. He is a memorable character. It's just not like. knockout wowza compared to the A tier stories.

DANCER: Dancer is the second easiest DPS job in the game behind SMN. So if i am sleepy it's the one I like playing. You play simon says. you do a lot of damage when you play simon says then do almost no fucking damage otherwise. I think it's the lowest direct damage in the game? for a dps i mean. You have high stakes sexual tension with a DPS of your choice via Dance Partner. I wish other DNC players knew how Dance Partner works. YOU CAN DANCE PARTNER ANOTHER DANCER. THE BUFF STACKS. BUT YOU CANNOT DANCE PARTNER THE SAME PLAYER AS ANOTHER DANCER. THOSE BUFFS DO NOT STACK. ok i'm good. anyway

Story Tier: C. there's some shit about negative emotions and purging them? in theory i think this has some interesting implications with Endwalker lore considering Dynamis and its role in the story. Very similar mechanically to what's going on with the DNC story. but i really don't think the writers made the connection so it's like pure speculation and not the actual story. It's meh. fine i guess. i did like all the flashy dancing sequences.

MAGICAL RANGED DPS

BLACK MAGE: I am so so so so so so so bad at BLM. i pull up the guide. i read the guide. it all makes perfect sense. i go into a dungeon or trial or something. somehow i always get like Zeromus or some shit. and i drop Enochian or something and everything goes to shit and i'm yelling and i'm not even like slide casting or teleporting or anything i just run around crying. then i remember i have like 10 more buttons i haven't been pressing and oh god the dot fell off. people play this? for fun? i admire it. apparently they do a ton of damage if you can play it. could not be me.

Story Tier: B? There's some voidsent and Thirteenth lore. all the black mage characters are Lalafell because it's funny i guess. OH YEAH it has like the one named male Keeper of the Moon Miqo'te NPC in the entire game and he's fun. look at this twink:

sorry i don't have anything to say about BLM i am bad at it

SUMMONER: easiest DPS job in the entire game. they redesigned it for Endwalker so it is practically a new job. i have no idea how it played before. but it is super streamlined. maybe too streamlined? it's another one to play if you want to turn your brain off. i like that at 90 you summon The Actual Primals instead of little representations of them. and i like the way your burst phase switches between Bahamut and Phoenix. it all looks very cool. they should add Leviathan as a summon in Dawntrail.

Story Tier: C.. i don't remember a single thing about this questline except you interact with Y'shtola's half sister. i think you go to Cartenau at some point. idk

RED MAGE: RDM is one of those jobs that looks really complicated when you start then you actually play it and it is just super super easy. that being said i think it's really fun. I like balancing the white and black magic gauges. Dualcast is a great gimmick and it feels cool to lob two big spells in a row at something. Dualcast Verraising a chain of dead players is so fucking funny. it's a shame that the existence of Verraise means RDM does shit damage to compensate for its utility. It and DNC just sit at the bottom with BRD barely scratching ahead of them. i think? i don't remember LOL

Story Tier: A, I really like the story and characters. I like that you have a middle-age world weary catboy (catman) as your mentor. and i like that he canonically trained Alisaie too and you chat a little about that. it's a fun story!

BLUE MAGE: what the fuck is a blue mage

Story Tier: ???

#my posts

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chaoticbardlady99 · 9 months ago

Text

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+

Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb

Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.

CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Chapter 5: Chapter 7 : AO3

Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long.

He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?

Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat.

He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever.

Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled.

You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out.

It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn.

That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <

The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated.

You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you.

You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.

Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers.

It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul.

And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.

Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.

It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you.

He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person.

He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt.

You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again.

The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near.

The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for.

He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.

At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon.

He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks.

Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business.

For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.

The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.

What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?

Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought.

Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him.

Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.

What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?

He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt.

He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.

Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.

His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay.

Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.

Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted.

He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen.

His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet.

Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.

“Hey! You can’t just cu-“

Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.

“You were saying?”

“Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”

A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.

“That’s not what I-“

“NEXT!”

Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.”

He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality.

It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here.

“Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?”

If you were here? You would have busted up laughing.

“Young man, my ass!”

He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye.

“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.”

“Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”

“I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them.

The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.

Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.

The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.

“Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.”

Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is.

No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart.

“Which brother?”

The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.

You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death.

“His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”

Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice.

Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself.

Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.

The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body.

“Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!”

A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave.

His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.

Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!”

Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books.

He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter.

Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes.

Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster.

It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time.

He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!

The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans.

The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.

There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.

What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half.

Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!

The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.

Wonderful, just wonderful.

Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get.

A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him.

Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster.

As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him.

Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.

A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly.

Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics.

You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him.

“Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”

“Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”

“Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”

Of course it’s a fucking Lich.

“For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.”

“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.

Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it.

“That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!”

It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.

Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath.

You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.

The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts.

Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-

“NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!”

You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you.

Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.

He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.

“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!”

Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing.

When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.

“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.”

And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal.

Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process.

The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers.

“ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”

He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on.

A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.

He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.

The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.

Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.

The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.

The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.

He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t.

Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her.

He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again.

The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea.

Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building.

The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them.

It must have been a horrible 56 hours.

Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.

“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”

The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”

That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.

“It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.”

*****************************

It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard.

You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days.

It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering.

“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?”

You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.

“He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.

“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”

Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.

He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery.

But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.

Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.

However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.

Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.

Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.

You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while.

Anything to make you feel safe again.

“I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.

“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“

This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough.

Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.

A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes.

“I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.

“It’s not imp-“

“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!”

Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.”

“Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.”

You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable.

“I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off. Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards.

Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.

“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.

Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?

“What?”

You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.

Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.”

“Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!”

Oh thank Gods.

Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc.

You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”

Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns.

You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite.

“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”

“Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”

You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.

“What is it, my Sweet?”

He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.

“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”

Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.

Pull yourself together.

“I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”

“Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”

“But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.”

Gods when did he become such a romantic?

You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face.

“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”

“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”

“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”

“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations.

“Fair.”

Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors.

Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right.

This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you.

It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined.

You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face.

Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.

Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream.

Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.

He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door.

He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened.

(Smut begins)

He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.

Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.

He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!

The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely.

Wild, passionate- unrehearsed.

Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop.

“You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”

Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago.

He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.

His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak.

In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.

Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately.

He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst.

Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours.

(Smut ends)

He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out.

Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.

His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.

Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for.

He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you.

Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.

After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you.

One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.

***********************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

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