#and I figure out 1. what’s fear they’d be the avatar of and 2. how.

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Literally this is how I get ‘into character’ when writing.

This is always on my list of ‘how to understand a character more’

Me religiously assigning tma fears to every character I see because im so normal about it :)

[beels-burger-babe]

A Pain You'll Soon Regret - Pt. 2

Poly! MC Summary: MC and the demon lords get in a fight resulting in MC leaving. They planned on going to Purgatory Hall until things cool off, but they never quite make it there. Ft. Poly!MC

TW: Heavy Angst, Violence, I don't know what to tag this, but there is a pretty nasty verbal fight, Gore/Injury Vomit Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE, Part 4: HERE

Meanwhile at the House of Lamentation

Your leaving hadn't made the situation at the House any better. Asmodeus threw his hands up in the air and glared at the rest. "Great! Just wonderful! Now they've run off. Happy now?" venom filled his words, but he could feel his heart race in fear that he had just lost the one person who loved him for more than his looks. Satan scoffed, though he glanced at the door through the corner of his eyes. "Don't act like you're better than us. I didn't see you standing up for them." Levi growled and went straight to his room as Satan and Asmodeus began to argue. Beel took a step towards to door you had just marched out of and glance between it and his brothers. "Should we go after them? It's dark and they're drunk."

Lucifer lifted his chin as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Why should we? It's like they said, they don't want to depend on us anymore, fine. Let them see for themself how far they get without our protection," with those words, Lucifer turned on his heel and stormed to his office.

Beel sighed and looked at Belphie, "What do you think? We can go get them together?" Belphie stared at the door for a minute, a guilty look in his eyes, before he shook his head. "Give them space, Beel. They're probably heading for Purgatory Hall. Simeon and the others can take care of them for tonight. Right now we all just need to calm down before facing each other again," he patted his twin's shoulder before heading to their room; regret swirling in his stomach as he thought of how he betrayed you once more.

Mammon stood frozen staring at the door like he still hadn't made up his mind on what he wanted to do. His instincts screamed at him to get you back in his arms and keep you there. You were his human, reckless or not, and he had a duty to protect you both as your assigned protector and as your boyfriend. But for some reason, he couldn't seem to move his feet. His mind replayed the discussion in his head over and over again. He had once told MC that if they couldn't be saved by him, to make sure that they died. That he was the only one allowed to protect them. Tonight, as everyone was fighting, MC needed him to protect them, but instead, he pushed them towards the wolves. He let his greed get the best of him. "Fuck," Mammon cursed to himself as he shook himself out of his thoughts. He glanced over to see Beel restraining Satan from pouncing onto a sneering Asmodeus. He sighed and shook his head. They hadn't fought like this in a long time. You had always been there to put them into their place. Now look at them. Mammon groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Will you guys cut it out? MC is gone, okay? Ain't nothin' we can do about it now," to his surprise, his younger brothers actually stopped and seemed to be listening to him. Mammon huffed and began walking towards the stairs. "It's like Belphie said. We ain't in no place to make things better right now. Fightin' like this is what got us in this position, so quit it. Get some sleep. We'll figure it all in the mornin'." Beel, Satan and Asmodeus blinked at their older brother as he disappeared upstairs. Seeing Mammon mature and take control of the situation like that, was strange, but not unfamiliar. Asmodeus massaged his temples with one hand and fixed his hair with the other. "Ugh, all this fighting is going to be horrid for my skin," he glanced at the door one more time with a defeated look before heading towards his room. Satan clenched and unclenched his hands a couple of times, taking a few deep breaths, before silently nodding at Beel and walking away. All alone, Beel stepped towards the door. He opened it and looked out at the dark vast of the Devildom before him. With a heavy, guilty heart, he closed the door and pressed his forehead against it. He used one hand to lock the door for the evening, while the other pulled out his D.D.D. The others didn't want him going after you, but a message couldn't hurt, right? He opened your contact and wrote out his text, "Hey MC. I'm sorry for how things happened tonight. Things got out of hand, and I'm sorry for not doing anything to stop that. I know you and the others are upset right now, but I was hoping that tomorrow, once we're all calm, you could come back home and we could talk about it?" Beel sat by the door for half an hour waiting for a response, but none ever came. He frowned and glanced up at the locked door handle before shaking his head. "Maybe they left it on silent for a bit," he mumbled to himself before picking up his phone once more. "Text me when you get to Purgatory Hall. You don't need to say anything else. I just want to know you're safe." With that, Beel headed towards the gym. He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry. He just wanted you home, but he couldn't have that. So in the meantime, he'd stay awake until he at least knew you were safe.

Only the morning came and went, and there was no word from you. The brothers were starting to get concerned. No matter what was said last night, they still loved you. You all needed to talk, yes, and things needed to be worked out, but that didn't change how they felt for you. They would never want to see you hurt. Lucifer had reached out to Simeon, while Asmodeus contacted Solomon and Beel texted Luke. Only Beel received a response. "Never contact me again. If you come anywhere near Purgatory Hall, I will not hesitate to smite you in an instant, you foul fiend?" Satan read out loud as he passed the phone back to a very confused and worried Beel. "What in the world did you do to him?" "Nothing. At least, I don't think," he thought about for a second. "I've stolen his baked goods on occasion, but besides complaining about as I did it, he never seemed to hold a grudge." Lucifer frowned deeply. "This is clearly about MC. Luke has taken to them as though they're his older sibling."

Levi scowled and pressed a few buttons on his game. "Sure they aren't dating him too?" he yelped as Asmodeus smacked him on the back of the head. "Stop it," Asmodeus growled. "I know you're the Avatar of Envy, Levi, but MC was open and honest with us. They told us that they loved us all and that they wanted a relationship with all of us. We all listened to what they offered and agreed. You agreed to this!"

Levi huffed and put down his game. "Because it was better than not having them at all!" he sighed and put an arm over his face. "I know that they love me, and them being with a-all of us doesn't change that, but it's so hard sometimes. I-I-I just-" "Want 'em to yourself?" Mammon provided. Levi blushed and nodded in response. Mammon shrugged and sat down beside him. "We all understand that Levi. This is somethin' new for all of us. When I see MC bein' sweet with you guys I get this urge to just rip 'em off ya and hold 'em tight in my arms where ya guys can never touch 'em again," he sighed and put a hand on Levi's shoulder, "but then I see MC smile at me the same way they smile at Beel or you or Lucifer. I know that when I'm holdin' them, they're thinkin' of me and they're there with me because they treasure our time together. It's hard sometimes, and it hurts to admit, but you guys make MC happy, and I can't take that away from them." He nudged his younger brother gently, "Neither can you." Everyone sat quietly as they thought of Mammon's words. "They always bring me snacks after my workouts," Beel said with a small smile. "They always seem to know when I'm hungry and would just whip out snacks out of nowhere." Satan leaned onto his knees from where he sat on his chair. "They ordered me their favourite books from the human world on Akuzon. They wanted to do a trade. I'd read their favourites and they'd read mine. That way we could learn a bit about each other just by reading something that the other loved and would understand one another a little better." Belphie tiredly rubbed his eyes and leaned against Beel. "They wake me up after all class and before any meals," he chuckled softly at the memory. "No matter how much I snarled or insulted them, they'd just put their hands on their hips and patiently wait for me to wake up so that I wouldn't miss any of my classes or any meals."

Asmodeus giggled and smiled brightly. "That alone proves how much of an angel they are. Your demon side really shows when you're woken up." The others laughed as Belphegor stuck his tongue out at Asmo. "They would always give me their opinion on my outfits. I know it seems impossible, but even I get torn between which outfit I should bless the public with sometimes. MC would always be the voice of reason to help me choose," his eyes softened, "Though they always said at the end that the most beautiful thing about me was my heart, something no one could see but radiated from the outside-in." Lucifer sighed, closing his eyes as he put aside his pride, and spoke. "They check on me in the middle of the night. I swear they have an alarm. They'll come into my office to see if I'm still awake. If I am, so long as the work isn't truly urgent, they'll poke my cheek and play with my hair until I give in and go to bed."

Everyone turned to Levi. The otaku's face was bright red as he avoided everyone's gaze. "Your turn, Levi," Mammon ordered. "Come on. I know that MC's super gentle with ya. Ya have to have somethin' to add." Leviathan pouted before mumbling. "They'll hold my hand when we're in crowds and in public because they know how anxious it makes me. If I start to freak out, they'll just gently squeeze my hand and pull me along until they can find a quiet space where I can calm down a bit," he groans and glares at Mammon. "What's your point?"

"His point," Satan began calmly, "is that MC loves us all equally. They take special care to do the little things to ensure that we all know that we are loved by them." Mammon nodded and pointed and Satan. "Exactly!" Lucifer hummed in thought. "Though this doesn't fix the problem of MC having no regard for their own safety." Everyone winced. There was no denying that. You admitted it yourself. You were reckless, and in a place like the Devildom, that kind of behaviour would get you killed one day. What would happen if you weren't with them one day? Just like you currently weren't. Memories of your storm out swirled in all of their heads, and concern pooled heavily in their stomachs. "Has anyone heard from them yet?" Belphie asked, looking uncharacteristically nervous. But then again, he was always protective of you as he never wanted you to get hurt again, especially since he had been responsible for so much of your pain in the past. Beel opened his mouth to respond when Asmodeus's D.D.D. went off. Everyone eagerly stood, as Asmo pulled out the device and answered it without checking. "MC? Are you alright?" "Put it on speaker!" Levi snapped, crowding as close to his brother as he could. Asmodeus nodded and quickly did as told. The voice that answered wasn't you, as they had all hoped, but rather Solomon. "I'm afraid they're not," the brother's felt their blood freeze at Solomon's words, as time seemed to stand still around them. Solomon's voice was cold and stern, showing his obvious anger at the demons. "I apologize for not contacting you all sooner, but I was spending every last second of my time and energy on trying to keep MC from dying of blood loss. That, and Luke is quite determined to keep the lot of you as far from MC as possible. If it was up to him I wouldn't even be calling you all right now. I, however, figured that you should at least be made aware of their condition." None of them heard a thing after the words "dying from blood loss" reached their ears. Lucifer took the D.D.D. from Asmo's shaking hands. "What happened? The last we saw them they-" "Presumably walked away from a fight with all of you and was trying to come to us. Yes. I'm aware. I read Beelzebub's texts on MC's phone," everyone glanced at Beel. His brows narrowed as he kept his eyes fixed on the D.D.D. "To answer your question, MC didn't make it to Purgatory Hall last night. They were jumped by a group of three demons who seemed to think that human would make a delectable midnight snack. What do you think, Beelzebub? Is that true? Is the taste of human flesh, really so delicious? I think I've heard you comment as much once or twice before you all began your relationship," Solomon spat the words accusingly. Fury danced on his tongue as though he was Wrath himself. Beel winced back and put a hand on his stomach as flipped inside of him. Belphie growled at the mention in his defence. "Stop dancing around the subject and get to the point. What happened? Are they okay?" The demons were surprised to hear a snarl come from the other end. "I already told you, they aren't. Luke had opened a window to air out some of the kitchens after he failed a new recipe he was trying out when he heard their screams. By the time we got there one of them had eaten half of their right leg, while was one biting along their shoulder, and the other was trying to choke them to death. Simeon and I were able to get the heathens off of them and incinerated them on the spot, but MC was already unconscious. While we were fighting the demons, Luke was just barely able to cast enough healing spells to stop the bleeding and stabilize them. Simeon and I have been working ever since on using every spell, charm, and potion that we know to keep them alive and somehow attempt to heal their injuries." At the mention of MC's leg have been mostly eaten, Beel turned and threw up on the ground. No one moved to comfort him, as they were too distracted by their own states of shock. "A-Are-" Mammon began to choke out before clearing his throat. "Are they

alive? Please tell me they're alive." The answer hung just out of their grasp. Waving dangerously above them like a deadly knife held up by a string. No matter what the response would be, all the brothers felt as though they may faint. "They're alive. Simeon had to use all his power to bring their blood count levels up to a healthy level, and their shoulder was dislocated, they most likely have a concussion going off of their head injury, not to mention their right leg was unsalvagable and had to be amputated, but yes. They are, at the very least, alive." Mammon joined Beel. Satan stood still, though he had changed into his demon form and the aura of pure wrath filled every cranny of the room. Asmodeus held a hand over his mouth as tears streamed steadily down his face. Leviathan had stumbled away from the group and was in the beginning stages of a panic attack. Belphie stared at the phone with a bewildered expression, his eyes pricked with tears, as though he couldn't believe the words coming from Solomon's mouth.

Lucifer was doing everything he could not to hurl the phone across the room.

Solomon continued. "Luke is currently watching them and making sure that they remain stable, while Simeon and I rest. As such, you will have no luck if you try to see them right now. I'll text you when I wake up and then you can come to see them," with that, Solomon hung up. Anxiety, grief, and remorse clung to each of the brothers like a new skin. Earlier they were arguing that all of them had your love, and because of that, all of them had nearly lost you. ***Duh duh duh!!! Part three to come. Part three will probably be the final part, but I don't know. Haven't quite figured out how this is going to end yet. Though a heads up, a may fill out another request before pt. 3 is up just to give me a break from the heavy angst. Thank you all so much for supporting me! And thank you to @millenniumofpain for the request!***

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

[maliciouslycreative]

How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall

I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.

There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.

Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived. 

To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun. 

Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for. 

C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later. 

Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao. 

I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was. 

Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics. 

She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread. 

The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing. 

Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned. 

C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves. 

C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too. 

I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at. 

[aangs-surrounding-love]

My take on Aang’s trauma:

Alrighty everyone this is going to be a long one. I’ll do my best to only include the more important parts of Aang’s actions that I think reflect his trauma. Also, moments that I think reflect his trauma. Actually, I don’t really know if I can directly categorize this post but let’s just say this is very Aang-centric and somewhat of Aang-defense. Aang-protection? Feh-I’ll start.

In season 1 episode 1: The Boy In The Iceberg we see that Aang is briefly told that no one has seen an airbender in 100 years. We can see a tiny bit of shock but what happens next is that the topic is dissed and they move on. Aang doesn’t yet know what happened. But that small little face of shock and confusion always gets me.

Season 1 Episode 2: When Aang finds out he was stuck for 100 years, a war broke out, and his people were very likely killed, he looks on the bright side and looks to Katara saying, “I did get to meet you.”

When they find out he’s the avatar everyone is like, no wayyyy. He still offers himself up to protect the tribe.

Why didn’t he tell them? “Because I never wanted to be” is 100% a valid answer. He was scared. He thought that they’d push him away as his friends did at the temple. Or maybe send him away like the leaders wanted to do to him. (Although Sokka did banish Aang, it wasn’t because of his title and because he put the tribe at risk so it doesn’t exactly count)

Season 1 episode 3: The Southern Airtemple. “We’re home, buddy. We’re home.” Aang says to Appa. Something about this seems like a nostalgic moment. He left on bad terms and now he’s back seeing it 100 years later, hopeful.

He looks for all the old things that made him happy. Air ball, Gyatso’s statue, searching for people. (The little fruit pie flash-back)

He goes to the statue room and looks for answers. He meets Momo. However, when Aang and Sokka start chasing Momo I see Aang tearing up when he’s jumping down the cliffside. My take on this isn’t because he’s falling down at such a velocity that he starts crying, my take is that it’s because it’s his first chance to reveal that there’s hope that some of the Air Nation survived and that Aang isn’t alone.

Aang discovers Gyatso’s skeleton and goes into the Avatar State. His major hopes have been diminished.

He says to Momo, “You, me, and Appa, we’re that’s left of this place now. We have to stick together.” It’s so sad. They’re the only parts of the Air Nation that are alive. They don’t have anything left of the air nation and that’s why they need each other; they need to stay together.

At the closing of the episode, we see Aang and Momo flying away from the temple on Appa. Aang's face is so somber like he’s watching his happy memories diminish. Like the nostalgia being wiped away directly in front of him.

Season 1 Episode 5: The King of Omashu. This one is more of fine detail, but to me, it’s still very important and needs to be mentioned more. At the end of the episode, when Aang figures out it was Bumi, his old friend, you can see little tears welling in his eyelids. My understanding makes me think that Aang was tearing up because he sees someone who isn’t dead. The tears are of relief because to Aang, maybe not everyone is gone. His childhood isn’t over, Aang can still be a kid. Because the reason Gyatso was protecting Aang was that he wanted Aang to have a childhood. Although it was stripped away, this gave Aang another chance to have fun intentionally. Another sign that his childhood isn’t completely over.

Season 1 episodes 7-8: Winter Solstice Part 1: The Spirit World and Winter Solstice Part 2: Avatar Roku. In the first part, we meet a village. Aang tries to help them by saying, “I have to try” my legendary overthinking and analysis makes me believe that Aang truly wants to help these people already, but also that as the Avatar he wants to make up for the lost time he was stuck. He feels the burden he afflicted on the world.

His ability to relate to Hei Bai. Aang felt terrible about the woods and trees that were burnt down. It’s the empathy the made Hei Bai Aang’s friend. The compassion that Aang brings is truly amazing.

Part 2: Avatar Roku. Okay, so he wants to go alone because he doesn’t want Katara or Sokka to get hurt. My take on this is not only are they friends, but he also doesn’t want another one of his actions affecting the casualties of the war.

Season 1 Episode 12: The Storm. This episode is great. We get his backstory. We see why he ran away. We see what causes him to get stuck. And we get to see him upset. We see his guilt. “My people needed me, and I wasn’t there to help.” Followed by, “the WORLD needed me, and I wasn’t there to help.”

“How could they do that to me? They wanted to take away everything I knew and everyone I’ve ever loved!” This quote digs deep. Not only is Aang angry, but this takes a play on how he reacts to people and how he responds to people. He wanted to be a normal kid. (I’ll bring this back later)

Earlier in this episode, there’s this fisherman who was blaming him, so I’m in the cave Aang says, “the fisherman was right. I DID turn my back on the world.” He knows what he did was wrong and he saw the consequences. He ran away, and now that he faced the consequences, he actively wants to change and become better. He’s learning from his actions.

Season 1 episode 13: The Blue Spirt. Admiral Zhao says to Aang, “tell me, how does it feel to be the only airbender left? Do you miss your people?” Not only is this said in such a vile, evil way, we see Aang’s face which changes from being angry and upset with Adm. Zhao, we see that it changes to ashamed and guilt ridden. Actually, it kinda looks like Aang wanted to talk back to him, but he needed a moment. He needed that moment to take in what Zhao said.

Aang finds out that the Blue Spirit (the person wearing the mask) is Zuko. Aang was going to leave him there, to get caught by Admiral Zhao, but Aang instead takes him to safety. And may I mention that Aang made him a little leaf bed? Anyway, he stays with Zuko until he wakes up. Aang was talking about they could be friends and that one of his best friends was from the Fire Nation. I think not leaving Zuko behind shows both how Aang does his best to no longer leave people behind and to try to bring the best out of Zuko.

Season 1 episode 15: Bato of the Water Tribe. Aang takes the map to guide them to Hakoda for himself out of fear that Sokka and Katara would leave him. Though it was a bad decision, the thing is he didn’t think he could handle being alone. He was alone enough as it is. His people were gone and his friends (excluding Bumi) were gone or dead as well. So having to trek to the NWT alone would be a continuous reflection of his actions and would likely send him down on a more hateful path.

Season 1 Episode 16: The Deserter. Aang wants to learn the elements as fast as possible, even if it means doing it irregularly. He also is unsure whether he’ll ever get the chance to learn firebending again after he learns the other elements. So he starts to learn firebending from Jeong Jeong. He wants to make up for lost time which is another reason for this decision.

He hurts Katara and becomes afraid of handling fire and vows to be more careful with it in the future. (I will bring this up again later)

Season 1 Episode 17: The Northern Air temple. Aang sees that the northern Air temple became inhabited by people and they built pipes and other things that ruined the temple. They destroyed the temple and there wasn’t anything left that remained the same. When he saw the wrecking ball machine, he rightfully knocked it away for “destroying something sacred”. It was the last place that remained unaffected by modernization and industrialization then it was knocked over, right in front of him. So my take on this is a question within itself: if you loved something that was deeply close to you like a relic, something important, something that’s the only thing left of your family, got destroyed right in front of you, how would you feel? The answer would probably be pretty freaking upset.

Season 1 episode 19: The Siege of the North: part 1. Starting with part 1, the fire nation comes to the northern water tribe and the fight begins. Before the fight begins, Aang says, “I wasn’t there when the Fire Nation attacked my people. I’m going to make a difference this time.” He wants what’s best for the world, he’s going to stay. He isn’t going to run this time, he’s going to fight of the sake for the world, for the sake of the future. Still, the look on his face when he says that, it’s guilt plastered all over. The guilt is also shown with a determination to make his difference.

Aang flies out on Appa to try to prevent further damage by taking out a few ships. He returns around sunset, exhausted and somewhat defeated. He says, “I’m just one kid” then buries his face in between his legs. He’s right, he is one kid. The avatar, yes, a kid, yes. I have a feeling he’d be thinking about how massively overwhelmed his people were when the Fire Nation attacked. With the power of 500 suns, it would be disastrous. And with this, there are hundreds of ships in that fleet with hundreds more men, ready to fight.

Season 1 episode 20: The Siege of the North: Part 2. Aang returns to the spirit oasis and enters the avatar state saying, “No... It’s not over” he won’t give up on the tribe. He won’t let the Fire Nation win. Still, he isn’t running away, he chose to return to the Spirit Oasis to try to save the spirits.

Season 2 episode 1: The Avatar State. Aang’s told by General Fung that he could defeat the Fire Nation using the Avatar State. Gen. Fung manipulates Aang using Aang’s own guilt and faults to get him to try to train to turn the Avatar State on. Gen. Fung shows Aang the wounded to get him to join.

Initially, Aang doesn’t join. But he changes his mind upon further debate. During the training (well after a day of training) Katara and Aang have a long conversation about it. First, Katara tries to convince him to stop training to turn the Avatar State on but Aang refuses. Katara says, “I don’t understand.” Aang replied, “No, you don’t. Every day, more and more people die. I’m already 100 years late.” Aang’s own guilt is driving him to pursue helping everyone. Even though it wasn’t the right decision, he realizes that he needs to try everything he can to save the world.

Season 2 Episode 3: Return to Omashu. I already did my take away on Aang’s trauma for “The King of Omashu” but this will make my point stronger. Anyway, to the point. Aang goes to Bumi to learn earthbending. His old friend, the mad genius. When he arrives at Omashu, Katara, Sokka, and Aang see that Omashu was conquered by the Fire Nation. Despite Sokka trying to convince Aang to turn around, saying that there are other teachers, Aang shuts both of them down. He wants to rescue Bumi. Not only because he’s his best friend, but I think it’s the added reasons of impending guilt that he receives from leaving the Air Nation to fight on their own, and always wanting to protect his friends.

Season 2 episode 10: The Library. By goodness. Beginning of the episode. Aang is “making an orchestra”. My little headcanon is that all airbenders play an instrument and Aang chose the flute. Anyway, in this headcanon, the air nomads had a band that Aang loved to participate in. Just a little reminder he can’t be in a band surrounded by his people and wanted to make an orchestra on his own to feel happy like he would if he was around the Air Nomads.

Professor Zei calling Aang a relic. Just... terrible. That’s what he, his people, his culture surmounted to. Only a relic. An episode in time.

“We had no choice. Please. We’re desperate to protect the people we love.” This is what Aang says to Wan Shi Tong after the spirit’s anger about using the library to win a war. Aang is trying to protect the world and whoever he has left in the world. His people died. His friends before the war excluding Bumi are dead. Now all he has are his current friends, Appa, and Momo. That’s all he has left and he’s going to do anything to protect them.

Appa gets taken away. That’s it. They exit the sinking library. “Where’s Appa?” Aang asks Toph in confusion. As Toph shakes her head, humming, “mmm-mmm” Aang’s face looks so scared, so hurt. This is his best friend, his life partner to the death. His closest friend, even before the war. They have an inseparable bond and then Appa’s taken away from Aang. Aang doesn’t know if he’s alright, one of the three surviving members of the Air Nomads.

Season 2 Episode 11: The Desert. Aang is so hurt that he lashes out at Toph. His best friend and life partner were stripped from him. I could feel the pain and anger in his voice.

“I’m going to find Appa.” Aang flies away to search on his glider. Again, one of the last surviving members of the Air Nomads is gone. I will elaborate in others.

“APPA!” He calls out. He begins to tear up but sucks it down. “No... No!!!” He creates the gush of air at the ground, making the sand rise up. The complete anger is apparent.

“I’m sorry, OK? it’s a desert cloud. I did all I could.” Aang is left angry and lashes out at everyone. Aang blames Toph at first but it goes deeper than that. If Aang hadn’t gone inside, Appa could’ve been with him. Everyone could’ve gotten out of the desert.

Momo gets carried by a Buzzard-wasp. “I’m not losing anyone else out here.” If Momo was taken away that makes Aang the only one left. He’d be completely alone. And he would only have himself to blame. If he hadn’t run away... if he hadn’t gone inside the library... if he hadn’t chased and knocked the buzzard wasp down. But luckily, Aang gets Momo back.

Aang finds out that the sand benders he encountered were the ones who stole Appa. He acts appropriately and questions them. He wrecks a sand sailer. He wants his bison back. He needs Appa back.

“You muzzled Appa?!” He enters the avatar state in rage. Appa was much more than a pet. Appa is Aang’s best friend. His life partner. His link to his people. Hearing that Appa was treated like an uncontrollable, rabid animal isn’t alright with him. His people were already killed. So hearing that Appa could be in the same situation or worse hurts.

“I traded him with some merchants.” Trading him. Like property. Appa is living, breathing, he isn’t property. Then Appa was set to be sold. Sold.

Season 2, Episode 12: The Serpents Pass. Aang is trying to remain emotionless after Appa was taken away. He doesn’t want to grieve. He doesn’t want to feel. He wants the war to end and be done. He wants Appa back of course, but I think Aang feels that his emotions are going to prevent progress. So when Suki mentions how Appa wasn’t there, Aang was the first to look away. It hurts him immensely.

“Are you doing okay?” Suki asks Aang. At first, Aang looks to Suki and then to Katara, Sokka, and Toph. The view switches back to Aang where he says harshly, “I’m doing fine. Would everybody stop worrying about me?” Aang doesn’t want to be reminded further that -in his mind- that he failed.

“And now it’s like you don’t care about him at all,” Katara states. Katara continues about how worried she is for Aang and offers him a hug. He steadily rejects, “thanks for your concern, Katara.” He walks away. He is so hurt that he doesn’t want to feel. He doesn’t want to be human.

“But you’ve made me feel hopeful again.” It doesn’t mean he’ll stop himself from blaming himself, but it means Aang will return to being hopeful and optimistic.

Season 2 episode 13: The Drill. It’s towards the end where Aang gives the final blow, it’s not really about the moment but the music. Aang is determined to save the world. Even though he’s going through in an incredibly tough time, he’s not going to give up and he’s going to save Ba Sing Se. The music displays this perfectly also while the French Horns add Aang’s musical theme in the background.

Season two, episode 15. The tales of Ba Sing Se. Aang creates a Zoo after seeing all the caged up animals. I think that Aang did this because it reminded Aang what predicament Appa could be in. All chained up. Of course, above anything else, Aang goes to the Zoo in the first place to look for Appa. But I think Aang wanted to release the animals into a better space because Aang wanted to help them, knowing at least Appa would want a sense of freedom. Also because Aang could see that the animals were unhappy.

Season 2 episode 16: Appa’s Lost Days. Sorry but Aang sleeps with the bison whistle right next to him. Meaning, the first thing he wakes up to is the whistle. So right away, Aang is reminded that he needs to get Appa back no matter what.

Season 2 Episode 17: Lake Logoai. Weakly, Jet says, “I’m sorry, Aang.” Aang replies, “Don’t be.” Aang is already worried. But after it's inferred that Aang was going to die by Toph’s, “He’s lying,” is another reminder to Aang that having relations to other people puts them in danger. And that Aang might think that he is another cause for Jet’s death. It’s a big rolel, accounting for every death and injury at Aang’s stake.

Reuniting was Appa, finally. The tears, the relief. Appa will forever be his best friend. To death. A weight was definitely released from his chest.

Season 2 episode 18: The Earth King. Aang wants to tell the Earth King the truth. With Appa back, it’s hoped that things could turn out well for Aang. And a chance the war could end sooner. For the fatalities to stop.

Season 2 episode 19: The guru. “What do you blame yourself for?” Aang responds, “I ran away. I hurt all those people.” He holds himself accountable that he wasn’t there. That he was the cause of injury. Even though he forgave himself doesn’t mean he thinks about it. That’s the thing about guilt. It reoccurs no matter if you try to bury it. Or even forgive yourself, it still shows up.

“Lay all your grief out in front of you.” Aang pictures the whole Air Nation with Gyatso in the front. He’s trying to save the word to not leave their names, their culture in vain. He lost everyone.

Season 2 episode 20: the Crossroads of Destiny. He had to let her go. There were too many people against him. He had no other choice than to let go and enter the avatar state. He had to give up another part of himself to be what the world needed. He needed to save Katara, not letting any others fall to his fault.

Season 3 Episode 1: The Awakening. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. Isn’t that great?!” To Aang, it isn’t. In fact, that’s probably the worst thing Sokka could’ve said. To Aang, the world thinks he failed... again. At first, he vanished for 100 years, thought dead. Then he returned to become dead again. Now, the Fire Nation has practically won because he wasn’t able to keep Ba Sing Se afloat.

Aang wants to intervene even though he’s barely able to walk. He wants to handle it himself. He’s holding himself accountable. Maybe even thinking, it’s the least I can do if I’ve already failed to the world twice. He keeps trying to help, having Sokka hold him back.

“I don’t want you or anyone else risking your lives for my mistakes.” This means Aang really blames himself for everyone. Holding everything on his shoulders. Thinking, “it’s all my fault.”

Aang does the thing he knows how to, he flies away on his glider. Hurt and bombarded with a storm. When he’s found by his friends, he finds his glider which we knew was very important to him. Air Nomads weren’t very material, but to a person with a smidge of their culture left, it would’ve meant much more. So, seeing it in shambles and them actively choosing to burn it is heartbreaking.

Season 3 episode 2: The Headband. The fact that the children of the Fire Nation and everyone who was taught after the war started thought the Air Nomads had a military, forcing the Fire Nation to attack them. It’s screwy. It was wrong, but knowing that his culture was thought of as evil and bloodthirsty had to have been off-putting. I mean, the Air Nomads were pacifist!

Aang was stripped of his childhood, so going to a school gave him a new chance without the burden of being the avatar. For example, earlier I mentioned Aang was excluded from playing with the air-scooter, but in the Fire Nation school, Aang as Kuzon was invited to play Hide and Explode. A chance to have fun without his responsibility to defeat the Fire Lord. A chance to be a normal kid.

“You taught them to be free” Aang did his best to help the kids. It wasn’t defeating the Fire Lord but it gave them control. A mind. They were brainwashed by the school and their country! So achieving a sense of freedom by self expression is something more than I can display in words.

Season 3 Episode 9: Nightmares and Daydreams. Although it’s a fun episode, Aang is in his last moments to train before the invasion. He has to be ready. He’s afraid that he’ll let the world down a third time. So, he creates false scenarios and plays them out to prepare. In this process, he gets really sleep deprived because of his stress. He’s rightfully worried. The state of the world continues to burden him.

Season 3 episode 10: The Day Of Black Sun, Part 1: The Invasion. Aang comes to Sokka’s side when Sokka begins to worry about his moment of truth. Aang says, “I already failed to world once at Ba Sing Se. I won’t let myself fail again.” Again, it’s all up to him. He needs to save the world, he needs to redeem himself.

Season 3 episode 11: The Day Of Black Sun, Part 2: The Eclipse. Aang finds that it was all a trap. He failed again. On Appa as the youngest of the group loads on Appa, Aang is crying. He told himself that he wouldn’t fail. That he needed to win. He needed this victory to find out that his plan was ruined.

Season 3 Episode 12: The Western Air Temple. Aang accepts Zuko into the group. He does this not only because he needs a teacher but realizes that in his past attempt to learn Firebending, he hurt Katara. And that Jeong Jeong wasn’t the right master, but knowing that Zuko changed made Aang accept Zuko into the group and teach him.

Season 3 Episode 13: The Firebending Masters. Earlier, I mentioned that Aang vowed to be more careful with Fire after burning Katara. Showing why his flame was timid and weak. He was afraid for it to become out of control and hurt someone.

Season 3, episode 16: The Southern Raiders. “You’re feeling unbelievable pain and rage.” He’s empathizing with Katara. We can’t forget that Aang is a survivor of genocide. He’s been through so much and wants to help Katara make the right decision. Not making it for her, but guiding her through the decision that would make her satisfied with herself and Yon Rha’s outcome. One she could live with. He’s using his own experience to help her.

Season 3, Episode 18, Sozin’s Comet, Part 1: The Phoenix King. Aang wants to find an alternate solution rather than kill Firelord Ozai. He wants to stick to his principles. The ones that have been with him since forever. It’s not an easy decision. Maybe not only because of honoring the monks and their teaching but because the war had already created enough bloodshed.

Everyone is quick to assume Aang ran away. Although Aang is called to the Lion Turtles back. I think it was mostly unknowingly because he was like half asleep.

Season 3, Episode 19, Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: Old Masters. Aang looks to the past Avatars for their guidance. They’re the ones who might give him an alternate solution. In my opinion, they were all like, make whatever choice is right for you and the world. Don’t forget the world. Ultimately, to Aang, there were no other options, leaving him with the only option but to take Ozai’s life.

He meets the great look turtle. Aang respectfully asks him for an answer or an option. Once again, Aang was given the knowledge that he could take away whatever he received from the wisdom.

Season 3, Episode 20: Sozin’s Comet: Part 3: Into The Inferno. Ozai degrades Aang. Says, “you’re weak. Just like the rest of your people. They did not deserve to exist in this world, in my world! Prepare to join them.” So Aang has been told he’s weak and he is in no way weak. I will elaborate later.

Season 3, Episode 21: Sozin’s Comet, Part 4: Avatar Aang. Aang unblocks the avatar state and pins Ozai down. Just as Aang was going to kill him, he stops. He stops himself from going against his principles. Ozai continues to degrade him. “You are still weak.” Aang directs Ozai’s fire blast away using the Lion Turtle’s wisdom, Aang pins Ozai down and energy bends. With this, Aang discovers this non-fatal solution by giving Ozai justice and taking his bending away. Ozai can no longer intimidate and oppress anyone anymore.

“Please the real hero is the avatar.” That’s it. Aang is the hero. Of course, he had his friends to help him, but every single one of Aang’s mistakes and choices led to this. Led to the world being saved. So, for the first time in a while, Aang can come out of hiding, proud to be in this Air Nomad robes without concealing his identity.

I think I’m exaggerating about the tiniest details, but then again, I’m putting myself in Aang’s shoes, and that’s how I’d feel and how I interpret Aang’s actions/reactions. Also, I know I missed a few points, but I tried.

Big takeaways:

When Aang is told his people have been wiped out AND that he’s been gone for 100 years, for him, it has only been a few days for him. He left and a day later he wakes up and it’s been 100 years. That’s incredibly off-putting and scary. One day and his whole world shifted.

Aang was given very VERY little time to grieve as he had to save the world and learn the elements right away. When we do see it, his grief, he tries to let it all out at once rather than have it seep out little by little.

Aang is 12! He is a child and he saved the world. He has real emotions and was confused from time to time. He was a little immature at first but developed immensely.

Aang makes mistakes. But most importantly is that he learns from them and uses them to decide what's best for him and how to help others.

He looked for the light in dark situations.

Aang is the beacon of hope but even he was unhopeful and detached. He went to nightmares and back despite the worst.

Despite Ozai’s bashing and false claims, Aang is not weak and never has been. Aang went through the worst. He lost his family, his friends, and at one point, his best friend. He died. He was given an almost impossible task. Yet, he completed this task. He saved the world. Yes, he made mistakes but those mistakes shaped Aang into who he became. And how he was able to save the world. And Ozai was incredibly wrong. Aang defeated him and found his alternative. It wasn’t weak. It was strength. As Katara said in The Southern Raiders, “I don’t know if I was too weak to do it or if it’s because I’m strong enough not to.” In Aang’s case, he found his alternative that honored his teachings, his principles, his beliefs all while doing what was best for the world. That isn’t weak. It’s strong. Adding on, to come back from death isn’t weak. To return to action after running away isn’t weak. To face danger? To help others? To fight on the losing side for what is right? No, it’s not weak at all.

The music is fantastic and I think it reflects Aang amazingly. This doesn’t really fit into what I was talking about but the music fits the show.

Aang deserves so much love. I'll say it again, he's been through so much. Much more than what I could handle or almost anyone else. He is a traumatized child but even through the rough patches became an inspiration. To me, I think he’s sometimes overlooked and pushed aside so this is just some of my headcanons and takeaways.

Another thing, I’m not blaming Aang for anything. When I mention “it was his fault” I mean by he was blaming himself. The Air Nation’s genocide is not his fault. I mean that he blames himself for not helping or staying, for running away. 

Lastly, I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or any of their characters. They belong to their rightful creators and writers. Also, this is my analysis and a few of my takes on Aang’s trauma. I'm not trying to project my feelings on anyone. I'm just saying what I think.

If you made it this far thanks for reading my post!

[free-pancakes]

A Fire in the Shadows

LeviHan - Avatar the Last Airbender AU fic

Characters: Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Kenny, Zeke, Sasha, Jean, Armin, Kuchel, Porco, Pieck

Summary: Levi, the nephew of a fire nation captain, stumbles upon a ragtag group of 5 known as the Scouts, formidably known for foiling the plans of local fire nation control, living in the forests a few miles north of Ba Sing Se.

Chapter 5: Interconnected Chapter 4: The Fire from the Shadows Chapter 3: Bonds  Chapter 2: Trust  Chapter 1: The Scouts

(crossposted to ao3)

CH 5: Interconnected

A 10 year-old Hange sat by the edge of the river running right outside her home, listening to the happy quacks of little turtle ducks swimming by. She smiled as she molded the fire in her palm into a small ball of flame, tossing and kicking it back and forth to herself. Erwin walked quietly towards the river, and stared at Hange from afar. He couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized at the finesse of her movements—she was a natural, more adept than even the adult firebenders he knew, at just 10 years old. She was just a kid, but she was skilled beyond her years. He was so proud of her, but admittedly, a little jealous. He looked down at his hands, sad that he wasn’t gifted with the ability to bend an element. He lowered them and shook his head—despite this, the pride he had for his best friend far outweighed any sadness he felt being a non-bender. He’d always stand by her side.

“Hange, I got the stuff you asked for.” He pulled off his backpack and shook its contents onto the grass—a metal funnel, metal clamps, and wax adhesives. Hange’s eyes glowed with fiery excitement as she squealed with joy. “These are perfect!” She gathered the supplies and ran towards the house. “Come on Erwin, race you back to my room!” She sprinted ahead, and Erwin laughed as he ran to catch up with her.

Hange ran into her home, tracking dirt all over the wooden floorboards. “Hange dear, come on, I just mopped the floor!”

She disappeared into her room and yelled, “Sorry, Mom! I got a super-top-secret-urgent project to work on!”

Before she could ask Hange to come back and clean up her mess, she turned around to find Erwin already sweeping up the dirt.

“Oh Erwin, you’re so sweet, you don’t need to do that!” She gently took the broom out of his hand and ruffled his hair. “Go join Hange, don’t worry about it,” she said softly.

“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Zoe,” he politely nodded his head and walked into Hange’s room, closing the door gently behind him. He looked down to find Hange busy producing a tiny fire at the tip of her index finger, welding the metal to the rest of her contraption. Erwin knew better than to talk to her while she was engrossed in conjuring up her newest invention, so he put his backpack down on the floor and sat neatly across from her. He stared up at the wall, at the same picture frames he always looked at whenever he waited for Hange to finish her latest project. The picture was that of a man who resembled Hange’s father, his arm around a young Avatar Roku and a few other people, all of them smiling together.

According to Hange, the bespectacled man in the painting was her great grandfather, a good friend of Roku. Beneath this was a picture of Erwin’s grandparents arm-in-arm with Hange’s grandparents and all of their friends. The picture below that was one from a few years before either Hange or he was born, showing his and Hange’s parents laughing together, and in the center, a beautiful woman with long, black hair and the most gentle eyes. Generations… lifetimes of the most powerful firebenders, yet the most kind people were displayed there before him, and it was almost crazy to think that he and Hange, along with their new friends, Mike and Nanaba, were probably next in line to join that wall—a wall displaying both genuine friendship and deep loyalty to the peaceful and harmonious land the fire nation once was. Erwin smiled as he remembered his father’s words to him one night not too long ago—“Friendships really do transcend lifetimes.”

“Success!” Hange held the contraption in her hand, a mess of metal tubes swirling into a metal funnel at the end. Before he could ask what it was, Hange was dragging him by the hand and climbing out the one window in her room. “Hurry up ya slowpoke! Before my mom or Moblit hears us!”

They ran towards the small barn marking the halfway point between their houses. Hange walked along the edges of the barn to a spot in the dirt marked with a small scarf of hers. “Here! Help me dig, Erwin!” They used their hands to scoop piles of dirt out, deep enough to fit the end of the funnel under and inside the barn.

“Ok! Can you stay right here and listen to me through the pipe? Tell me how clear the sound is.” Hange ran around the corner and into the barn, and began to speak and whisper, alternating between the two. Erwin’s eyes widened in shock at the clarity—even Hange’s whispers were audible through the pipe. “How did she even manage to do this?” he thought to himself. Now they could listen clearly to their parents’ secret meetings, and he was quite excited with their new tool.

“From the look on your face, I take it that the acoustics are perfect, no?” Hange smiled deviously, and Erwin returned it. The two friends happily bumped fists. “Now we can hear about their next mission without taking turns pressing our ears against the wall!”

Ever since she and Erwin stumbled upon a meeting about a year ago, their minds became hyper-fixated on discovering their parents' work and uncovering the secrets behind it all. Since they were probably the two most dangerously curious kids of all the fire nation, it was only natural that they’d figure it all out eventually. They had spent the past year trying to listen to the group meetings in the barn, and learned all about their missions. Ridden with curiosity, the two eventually found years of hidden documents containing information on their families, kept in boxes under faulty floorboards of their homes.

When Avatar Roku mysteriously died nearly 100 years ago, his group of friends awaited their friend’s reincarnation as a child from one of the air temples. But after the fire nation attacks on the airbender monks, they feared the worst. The world began to tip out of balance, and when no avatar seemed to appear in the earth kingdom, they wondered whether the avatar was gone for good. But among Roku’s friends, hope was not lost—they passed down their stories from generation to generation, and as the fire nation grew in power, the Zoe family was the face of those defending from the inside, attempting to do what they could to restore balance. They became the crux of movement within the shadows of the fire nation, thwarting plans of conquering villages and cities of the world, keeping as many citizens and innocent people safe from fire nation soldiers’ violence. Their numbers have dwindled over the years from fighting for their cause, and most of them eventually moved into the earth kingdom colonies to help out the villages more closely, though a few stayed behind in the fire nation to continue retrieving intel from the inside and kept correspondence with any information gleaned.

Hange was quite keen on listening for more every week, confident in her desire to follow in her family’s footsteps. As much as Erwin shared Hange’s excitement, part of him was deeply concerned about Hange’s safety. Out of the families that moved out into the earth kingdom colonies, she was the only firebender in their generation, and he was afraid that she’d have to take on too much responsibility and carry the brunt of the work in order to live up to their families’ names. But they were only kids, right? He waved away his own worries—it’s not like they’d have to join in on this right away. Their parents didn’t even know that we found out about all of this yet.

-------- When the sun just began to set, the two friends snuck their way back to the barn under the calm, orange glow of the sky. They crouched down at the spot where they lodged Hange’s invention through the ground and listened in—but to their disappointment, the adults were simply chatting and enjoying each other’s company. “Booooring,” Hange sighed. “Maybe we should just call it a night, huh Erwin?” As Erwin readied himself to walk Hange home, he overheard the quiet closing of a door and a new voice sound through the pipe. They locked eyes and quickly threw themselves down to press their ears close and listen.

“Kuchel!” Hange’s mother exclaimed, and they heard the soft sound of sniffles and happy cries of the reunion.

“KUCHEL??” Hange exclaimed loudly.

“Who’s Kuchel?”

“My mom’s friend! Her best friend!” Hange clasped her hands together and jumped around in excitement. “Oh I’ve always wanted to meet her, she sounds so nice and—“

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Hange and Erwin spun around to see Hange’s dad staring at the two of them and eyeing their little listening device. “Eavesdropping now, are we? You might have made something where you can hear us loud and clear, but did you consider the possibility that we could hear YOU loud and clear from the other side?” Erwin and Hange nervously laughed at his words—they really did forget to consider that. He bent down to look at Hange’s creation and his facade of playing “bad cop” parent melted away quite quickly, and he turned to his daughter and chuckled. “So how did you make it?” As the two Zoe’s babbled on about the intricacies of Hange’s ideas, Erwin continued to listen into the barn.

“Oh yes, Kenny’s alright, as annoying as ever, telling me we should give up on all this and that my son and I should just move out here with all of you. But how else would we get more intel without me on the inside?”

“But you can move in with us! We can adjust. Our plans can change! Kenny’s right, it’s probably safer for you to stay here. On top of that, I’m sure your son would love to meet Erwin and Hange,” Hange’s mother answered.

“I’m sure he would. He’s very quiet and doesn’t really have any friends. But I have no doubt they’ll all meet someday.” She smiled at the thought of Levi making new friends, but her smile slowly transitioned into a concerned frown. “It might have to wait a year or two, though. I don’t know if I trust Zeke anymore...”

“Well what do you mean by that? Hasn’t Zeke proved himself to us?” Erwin’s father asked.

“I’ve seen him spend some more time with Ozai recently. I can’t put a finger on it... but I think something in him has changed. I think we may be able to trust him for now, but we’ll have to see.”

The doors of the barn slammed open, revealing Hange’s father holding Hange in one arm and Erwin in the other. “I think we found our culprits!”

Mike and Nanaba’s parents burst into laughter, while Hange’s mother and Erwin’s father darted looks of deep disapproval at their children.

Hange’s dad playfully threw the two down into the pile of hay that the horses were working on, who seemed to neigh at them in disapproval. Hange and Erwin lost themselves in a fit of giggles that simply lightened up the room from the bleak conversation about Zeke. The rest of them began to catch up again and reminisce about the “good old days” while Erwin and Hange pet and fed the horses.

A few hours later, Kuchel made her way over to them, and the two suddenly felt shy, falling quiet.

Erwin’s eyes widened in recognition as she sat close to them. “You’re the beautiful lady in the picture,” Erwin accidentally whispered loud enough for Kuchel to hear.

Kuchel laughed, “You’re Erwin, right? You’re the spitting image of your father, and from what I hear, the only person smart and strong enough to keep this one under control right?” she said as she looked over to Hange.

“What, me?” Hange questioned. “Yes, you! Come here, dear,” she waved Hange towards her and gently pulled her glasses off, and wiped them clean with her sleeve, and carefully pushed them back onto Hange’s face. “And you’re the infamous, reckless Hange Zoe, correct?” She laughed, and Hange was simply mesmerized by her kind soul and the loving twinkle in her eyes.

After warming up to each other, Hange soon begged for stories from Kuchel about how all their parents became friends and both she and Erwin eagerly listened. The three of them talked for what felt like hours, until Erwin and Hange could barely keep their eyes open, their sheer curiosity and interest in Kuchel the only thing keeping them awake enough to listen.

“So that’s the sign of you all being undercover firebenders right?” Hange asked sleepily as she pointed to the little charm peeking out from pocket of her skirt. Kuchel was startled by her question, and sighed in defeat. “Well, neither of you should know anything about this until you’re old enough, but it was silly of me to think that you two wouldn’t figure that out by now being the nosy little kids you are,” she said with a small laugh. She pulled out the charm to show them. “When the time is right, we’ll all pass them down to you. It might not be as significant now—it was once used to prove that you were one to be trusted, but now that there’s not too many of us left...” Erwin noticed the hint of sadness that showed in her eyes.

“Well, it‘s still important, something to remember who you are and where you came from. Whenever you look at it, I hope it brings you peace and reminds you that it’s our responsibility to bring back stability and light to our nation, no matter how dark it may become. But who knows, it still might be important in recognizing who is a friend or foe someday. Whoever holds one is someone you can trust—I can promise you both that.”

Hange asked, “Kuchel, will we ever get to meet your son?”

“I have no doubt you will,” she said with a smile. “Hopefully soon. I think you both would be really good influences on him.” With a yawn, Hange asked one more question.

“What’s his name?”

But before they could hear Kuchel’s answer, both of them were fast asleep. Kuchel smiled lovingly at the two. She gently pulled off Hange’s glasses, pocketed them before picking her up. She chuckled at the sound of her snores as Hange’s face leaned against her chest— “Just like her mother,” she thought and suppressed full-on laughter. She then whispered quietly into Hange ear, hoping it would somehow register in her heart, despite her being asleep. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Hange. And.... I can’t wait for you meet Levi someday. Don’t let his little scowl fool you—he has a good heart.” Kuchel beckoned Hange’s mother over to pick up Erwin. “Come on, let’s go put these two to bed.”

-------- Levi could not believe Erwin’s story. But... there was no denying the description of his own mother.

He remembered the day before his mother died, and her words that morning echoed in his mind, “Levi, did you know that some friendships are strong enough to transcend lifetimes?” He wondered if that applied here—an explanation as to why his bond with Hange ran so deep, and why he felt like he’d known Erwin, Moblit, Mike, and Nanaba for much longer than he actually did.

They had been interconnected this whole time. As much as it frustrated him that knowing this would have made their meeting 3 years ago much easier, he felt a wave of happiness fall over him, and he was absolutely overwhelmed from head to toe.

“So, you’re Kuchel’s son.” Erwin remembered her kind eyes and gentle voice, and began to laugh.

“Oi, what the hell are you laughing on about?”

Erwin continued to laugh and started to wipe tears from his eyes. “I was just thinking about how you’re just...well let’s just say I never thought Kuchel’s son would turn out to be such a small, angry man.” He laughed, along with Nanaba and Mike. Levi grumbled but couldn’t help but let out a tiny smile.

After their laughter died down, Levi let the information sink in a little along with the situation at hand. “I didn’t know you met her...” he sighed. It seems there was a lot he didn’t know, and he wished he could turn back time and ask his mother everything.

Mike asked, “What did happen to your mom anyway? I know you said she was gone but...”

“She died after she saved a child from a house fire. My uncle and I were gone training for a weekend. I was only 12 at the time,” Levi said as he stared down at the ground.

“Since you and Hange are the same age... that must mean she died around the same Zeke betrayed everyone and had fire nation soldiers kill our parents,” Nanaba said quietly.

Each of them held their parents’ charms tightly in their hands. All was silent except for the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze and the crackle of logs from their campfire. Dusk quickly fell upon them, the glow of the moon peeking through the light cloud cover.

Erwin’s eyes softened as he looked at Levi. “Well, we got some work to do, don’t we? Hange and Moblit are in trouble—I can only imagine what Zeke wants to do with them.”

Levi looked up at Erwin, noticing a minuscule flicker of worry in his eyes. “My bet... is using an Agni Kai versus Hange as public display to destroy anymore hopes of internal rebellion.”

The other three furrowed their eyebrows at this, gritting their teeth in anger.

“And... killing the last firebending Zoe would be the ultimate symbol of crushing any hope that may be left.”

Levi stood up and looked out into the horizon, in the direction Zeke and Kenny escaped the night before. He had a good idea of where they might be, but the exact coordinates of that base was kept hidden from everyone except for high ranking officials. However, knowing Hange, he had utmost confidence that she marked a way for them to find her. They'd just have to figure that out—and soon.

Levi balled his hands into tight fists and fierce determination flickered in his eyes.

“Well, we’re not gonna let her face Zeke alone, are we?” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

--------

As Hange’s screams grew silent, Armin breathed a sad sigh of relief—either they stopped torturing her or she finally just passed out from the pain. Either way, she at least had some respite. He looked at the thick wooden bars of their cell, cross hatched like a solid net, trapping them inside. He could only assume that at least one guard was standing watch outside the metal door about 8 feet away from their cell—the only exit point in the room. How in the world were they supposed to get out of this mess? And more importantly, why were they targeting Hange? Where were the rest of the Scouts, anyway?

He turned back towards Moblit, “Hey so... what happened? How did you get captured?”

Moblit used his sleeves to wipe at his tears, revealing his swollen eyes, filled with a terrifying swirl of anger and hopelessness. “They ambushed us, Zeke and Kenny. They set everything on fire and we didn’t stand a chance—and they told us...” He looked down, tangling his fingers in his hair anxiously, like he was trying to pry the memories out from his mind.

“Told you what?”

“That Levi led them to us, and...that he was a firebender and... that he’s Kenny’s nephew.”

Sasha and Armin’s jaws dropped at the news, and Jean looked away, as he knew Levi’s secret. He wrestled with the possibility that he might have made a mistake in trusting him. “No... there’s no way I made the wrong call,” he thought.

“I’m not sure if I believe it, though. Hange was very adamant that we should trust Levi.” Happy memories of his relationship with Levi came rushing relentlessly into his head. “No, I don’t think we should stop trusting Levi.” He paused. “After that, the next thing I knew, I woke up restrained on the komodo rhino, and then saw all of you.”

“Moblit, why did they only take you, and no one else?” Sasha asked.

“Well Hange and Levi were in Ba Sing Se that night. And I think they were just using me as bait.”

“But why not any of the others, why just you?” Armin asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. Couldn’t they have just taken Erwin since he leads the Scouts?”

Moblit sighed. “I guess I better just fess up and explain everything, right? All of this would be easier if we were just on the same page.”

He fished a small, metal keychain from his pocket, a fire nation emblem etched into it, matching the one stitched into the red tapestry behind him. He held it up for them to see.

--------

A dull pain ached against the left side of Hange’s face, the skin around her eye throbbing alongside her steady heartbeat. She felt a warm hand pressing a dressing over her left eye, and saw strands of black hair hanging over her. She blinked her right eye, confused as to why she wasn’t still in the barn back home, laying in the hay next to Erwin and Kuchel.

“K-Kuchel?” Hange croaked.

She was answered with a soft whisper, “No, I’m sorry, I’m not Kuchel. My name is Pieck.”

“Oh…” Hange sighed, wishing she could return to dreamland, back to her old, yet comforting memories.

A harsh, gruff voice sounded from the dark corner of the room, “Kuchel’s been long gone, dearie.” From the shadows, Kenny stepped out into the light next to Pieck. “My dumb sister died saving some stupid kid a long time ago.” He peered down at Hange and scoffed. “Didn’t think she’d go that way, to be honest. I thought she’d at least have gone doing the pathetic work your parents and her other friends got into.”

“…Sister?”

“Yeah, my dumb old sister. What, the genius Hange Zoe hadn’t figure it out yet?”

“Sister… then… you’re Levi’s uncle??”

He let out a chilling laugh and began clapping—pathetic applause at her realization. Kenny stepped closer and bent down, staring right into Hange’s face. “Zeke told Porco to do much worse than what he ended up doing to you. You’re lucky I happened to walk in and stop him—what kind of self-respecting uncle would let his wonderful nephew’s girlfriend suffer right in front of him?”

Hange felt her brain short-circuit at his comment. “Oh I know how my nephew works, I saw how he looked at you after your cute little group took down that fire nation camp in the forest. All of you trying to be like your parents—their work was pathetic and so are you.”

Hange tried to make sense of everything and it was difficult to concentrate against the throbbing pain in her eye, but she quickly focused on the situation at hand—no need to show him weakness at anything he decided to say to her. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, though his tone seemed genuine underneath the rough exterior. She laughed to herself--she knew how to read and communicate with Ackermans.

“Their work wasn’t stupid, you pathetic old man,” Hange retorted.

Kenny laughed. “I told my sister not to get into that business. World’s gone to shit anyway, why not just live for yourself at this point?”

Hange began seething at this response. The only reason why she didn’t burst out flames at Kenny was because she was completely disoriented to her surroundings. Sadly, she figured she’d kiss her left-sided vision goodbye. Plus, she didn’t want to injure the girl next to her, as she was clearly very kind, tending to enemy’s wounds. “Maybe if you actually joined your sister back then, you could have helped them!”

“Well maybe if they all just gave that up, none of them wouldn’t have died and left you all as orphans. Have you ever thought of that?”

She stared back at him and spat as she spoke, “Well if you’re arrogant ass is ‘living for himself’ then why the hell do you care about that, and why would you decide to lay your loyalty to Zeke?” Kenny stepped away to make sure no one was within hearing range in the corridor. He walked quickly back towards Hange and leaned down close to her face.

“Listen here, little girl. My loyalty is to no one but myself. Zeke is simply offering the best deal I’ve gotten over last few years—we’re protected among his crew, plus the money’s good. And don’t get all disrespectful now, you’re lucky I didn’t let Porco take out that other eye of yours!”

“Or maybe you did it to keep Levi safe too, you DO care about him don’t you?” Hange teased.

Kenny scowled and grumbled at her comment—Hange stifled laughter as she now knew where Levi got it from.

“You’re delusional, Zoe. You’re just like your parents.” He turned around and slammed the door behind him—the metal reverberating around the walls of the room, the force causing her sensitive eye to throb again. Hange winced in pain.

Pieck held a cold compress to Hange’s face, and she sighed in relief. “Thank you,” Hange breathed out.

“Of course.”

Hange looked curiously at Pieck—“So, why are you helping me, anyway?”

Pieck answered softly, “Hange, I know what Zeke wants to do with you. But I don’t want him to go through with it.”

Hange held back the fear in her heart. She abandoned her curiosity at Zeke's plans with herself for a second--she needed to clear up other information with Pieck first.

“Why?”

“We’ve been friends since we were kids, and… I think he’s truly lost himself. This isn’t him, and it hasn’t been him in a long time. A lot has happened, Hange, and I think you’re just unfortunately stuck in the midst of it." She peeked out the doorway for any listening ears, and sat back down, whispering to Hange.

"There are guards everywhere though, and I can’t just let you out, plus your friends are still trapped somewhere in the building, and I don’t know exactly where. All I know, is that we have a decent amount of time before Zeke returns. In the meantime, rest.”

Hange breathed a sigh of relief—she was ridiculously lucky, she thought. Her mind scrambled to put together all the information she’s gathered and started on mustering up a plan to get everyone out of here safely. But one thing was really bothering her—was being friends with Zeke enough for this girl to help her, a Zoe, a target of the fire nation? There had to be something else--could it be?

“Pieck, can I ask you one more thing?”

She nodded, inviting her to continue.

Hange nodded back, “Is there any more reason why you’re trying to help me?”

Pieck smiled—Hange was just as sharp as the rumors told. She reached into her pocket and held out a luck charm, identical to everyone else’s, the fire nation emblem shining brightly back at Hange. Hange closed her eye and laughed, feeling nothing but hope and happiness. She wondered if Levi felt the same way at this same moment--after all the events of the past few hours, she thought it'd be quite likely that Levi, Erwin, Nanaba, and Mike were likely revealing their charms to each other right around now. It was about time.

[multishippingtrashfire]

zukka soulmate au opinions/headcanons?

I apologize Anon for how long this has sat in my inbox, but soulmate AU’s are really not my forte, so i had to think long and hard. (no sexy pun intended)

Background information

- Soulmate marks sit on the same place on both parties

- They are there their whole life

- I believe in multiple soulmates, so if one soulmate dies, i think another exists (aka, Hakoda and Kya, and then Hakoda and Bato; Kanna and unnamed Grandpa, and the Kanna and Pakku)

Zuko

- Zuko DREADS the notion of soulmates, only because Zuko believes it is also the universe’s divine order to make his life as sucky as possible. So in Zuko’s mind, he’s like the perfect way for the Universe to punish him further would be one of 3 ways:

1. His soulmate would be the Avatar, because of course he’d be on an impossible quest to literally find and surrender his soulmate for death at Ozai’s hands (also a betrayal to his nation) 

2. His soulmate would be a woman, (because I truly canonically believe that Zuko is a gay)

3. He wouldn’t have a soulmate

Of course none of these guesses are correct, he should’ve looked behind door number 4: His soulmate is from another nation and has had the Fire Nation ferociously take everything they’ve loved (aka Sokka)

Fire Nation tradition also dictates that Soulmates are for common people, not for Prince’s, so his soulmate mark (a glistening black sword), is to be covered at all times anyway. He is thankful that his Soulmate mark is non-nation identifiable, which saves him from Ozai’s wrath if it was obviously Water Tribe or Earth Kingdom. Also sucks, because Zuko isnt even sure where to start looking (not that he would), so he just traces the mark with his fingers as bathes sometimes, wondering if his soulmate is doing the same. 

When Zuko first meets Sokka, he doesnt realize it, he just sorta is like “no point in brutally hurting this person, let me just shift him out my way”, which in my opinion is more restraint than most people get from Zuko at that time. 

Zuko doesnt even know Sokka is his Soulmate until he sees the sword after training Aang at the Western Air Temple, and it all just clicks and Zuko wants to throw himself into the Sun because Sokka has Suki and Zuko just wants him to be happy. 

So really, he was right, he will be alone. 

Meanwhile on Sokka’s side

Sokka’s family have always been very supportive of him and soulmates. Katara’s mark is something that looks like a kite (it’s Aang’s staff but they didnt know that before meeting him) and Katara is wishful for her soulmate. She spends nights dreaming up what it could possibly be or mean.

And tbh, Sokka is against the idea because he’s devoted to the idea of being a warrior, of doing what’s right by his people. And his soulmate mark of a what looks like an exploded burn (the lightning strike Zuko takes protecting Katara) doesnt convince him, because only another selfless person/warrior would understand him in his opinion and he knows those are hard to come by. He doesnt care if his soulmate identifies as a guy or girl or in between. 

Then there was Aang, Katara’s necklace wrapped around his ankle as his mark. And Suddenly, Sokka was confronted with the realization that Aang and helping him become the Avatar was apart of Katara’s fulfillment and that his little sister was growing up and Sokka could see the way Aang and Katara looked at each other. He knew they say lifetimes when they looked into each other’s eyes. 

And then Zuko chases them around the world and Sokka totally acknowledges that Zuko is mental and a dick, but he also gets why Zuko does it. In their travels they heard the story of the banished Fire Nation Prince and his impossible assignment to return home and Sokka understands. He knows what it is to have to feel like you have to prove yourself to your father (Sokka thinks he has to prove himself to Hakoda; Zuko literally has to prove himself to Ozai, per Ozai’s words), what it means to be fighting for your nation as something greater than yourself, and Sokka would never admit to Katara but he empathized with Zuko. 

Sokka wonders if it’s Suki, but Suki tells him honestly that her mark is the mark of the Kyoshi Warriors, because she’s dedicated to this, this is what fulfills her. She loves Sokka and loves romance with him, but she knows Sokka is destined for greater love. And she tells Sokka that companionship is something that he shouldnt miss out, just because he thinks its not the ways of the warrior. Wearing a dress and fighting in fans and makeup wasnt his idea of the ways of a warrior either and he learned how that turned out. 

He thinks it may be Yue, but her mark was always the moon.

And then Zuko abandons Ozai and tries to offer himself up to the Gaang. He’s turnt away, and even burns Toph’s feet before coming back again and tries sacrificing himself to stop combustion man. Sokka is at least a little bit impressed that he would continue to offer himself up to berating judgement of their group because he’s decided what’s right. Then Zuko becomes Aang’s firebending teacher and everyone gets hang out with him and Sokka likes the guy even more, although he’s weird around the sword (he blushes everytime he sees it) 

They never really talk about soulmates, and Sokka’s soulmate mark sits on his thigh, so it’s not exactly easy to see unless he’s undressed. 

Then Zuko takes the bolt for Katara and survives and suddenly Zuko has hung the Sun in Sokka’s sky, because he was so selfless, he was willing to die for Katara. He knows the shape sitting on Zuko’s chest anywhere. Zuko is his soulmate. And then Sokka realizes maybe he was late to this party and that was why Zuko was weird.

When he first sees Firelord Zuko alone afterwards, he asks Zuko how long he knew. And Zuko lets him know that it was long enough that Chit Sang, Hakoda AND Suki knew (which meant by then Toph had probably figured it out too). Basically everyone but Sokka, Katara and Aang had been privy to the information. 

Then they unpack some of that pesky childhood trauma they’d been carting around and talk about how they both thought the soulmate thing wasnt for them, but then again both of them were completely unusual and extraordinary people, so maybe they just had a more unusual extraordinary soulmate story to live out. Sokka promises Zuko a lifetime and Zuko promises Sokka everyday in between now and when the Sun goes out. They can see it in each other’s eyes. 

Sokka says that Zuko’s scars are beautiful, something Zuko has felt made him a monster all this time. Sokka is the first person to acknowledge them truly and he tells him how enthralled he is by the stories they depict of Zuko. How he was selfless and did not fear the burn of flames because it was more important to do the right thing. 

 And Zuko says Sokka would have the world in the palm of his hand with his intelligence and that spirits knew giving him bending too would basically just make him the avatar anyway. Sokka has always felt inadequate and Zuko makes him feel like he could win a hundred battles blindfolded. 

Zuko sends a search for Sokka’s sword (and recovers it) and Sokka uses it to ask Zuko to marry him.  

They get married at Sunrise, because Zuko sets the Sun in Sokka’s sky and they celebrate until Sunset/moonrise, because their union blessed by the moon herself. It casts an iridescent glow over the Fire Nation. 

It’s love. 

[ceescedasticity]

a terrible, terrible idea I will not be finishing

TMA SBURB session scenario

The setup is that somehow, one of the current main character survivors finds out about SBURB, and comes up with an outlandish plan to force a session and drag the fears into the Incipisphere, thus leaving Earth to return to its original state. Pretend this is a feasible plan. Pretend it comes with a good plan to keep the Reckoning from destroying Earth immediately after it's restored.

The fears aren't going to be naturally inclined to go to the Incipisphere. It has a very low population — I'd be surprised if carapacians and consorts together topped a hundred thousand, though if you count underlings that's probably at least doubled — and even setting that aside some fears are just not well-represented. It's a very sterile place. So, the plan is to fill the "player" positions with people who can provide anchors for the fears and drag them into the Incipisphere, too. Pretend this makes sense.

(That puts us at over twelve players in a session, so I'll be using some original classes and aspects.)

The necessary qualifications for "players" are that they (1) are well-marked but not overwhelmed, (2) can be convinced to cooperate, and (3) are… accessible. Obviously live people are most accessible, but most live people are either overwhelmed and most of the rest are Avatars who are… actually they could also be described as overwhelmed, just in a different way. And the Incipisphere does have that little "dreamself" mechanism, so if they (read: Jon) have a sufficient... trace on a person (read: direct statement, Archive contract, accumulation of indirect statements, or some weird stuff), they can toss them straight into their dreamself, thus reviving them, possibly closer to human than they were before. (Or possibly creating a functionally identical copy. Hopefully no one asks.) Pretend this makes sense, too.

(They didn't attempt to exert any control over which moon people got, or which 'role'.)

Also benefiting from a dreamself: Jon, who barely survived the gross overextension of his powers figuring out how to do this and pulling in the "players" but just dropped upon entering the actual Incipisphere. He's now definitely in pre-coma condition and possibly even more regressed; he's been too disoriented to do much experimenting.

Melanie agreed to be the primary anchor for Slaughter because it's one of the stronger fears in the Incipisphere (the Battlefield and Prospit-Derse war in general mean the carapacians tend to be a good source for it) so they need someone trustworthy in the position. She's monitoring herself VERY carefully. She's also a secondary anchor for Beholding, but there's not any shortage there anyway. Her role according to the Incipisphere is Mage of Breath, Prospit dreamer, Land of Reeds and Whistles.

Georgie can't really anchor anything but End. Which is fine because it's also a fear native to the Incipisphere, and the only one that's a conceivable flight risk since the horrorterrors aren't afraid of anything else. Her mythological role is Sylph of Time, Derse dreamer, Land of Knells and Echoes.

Martin is the primary anchor for the Extinction, which may be a bit player as far as the entities are concerned but which is deeply engraved in the Incipisphere what with the Reckoning and everything. He's a secondary anchor for the Lonely as well as Beholding. His role is Rogue of Blood, Prospit dreamer, Land of Smoke and Craters.

Jon is the primary anchor for Beholding and a secondary anchor for pretty much everything else. (Beholding isn't a major concern for the Incipisphere's natives, but it's a potential issue for players, depending on their awareness.) He hasn't been needing statements, which he hopes is because he's regressed past the need for them, but which is actually because his Aspect is standing in for them. His role is Prince of Light, Prospit dreamer, Land of Sand and Searchlights.

Basira is the primary anchor for the Dark (since Beholding is taken). It's of middling strength, more than Beholding but much less than Slaughter or End; you get some Prospitians and consorts scared of the dark, but usually it's the least of everyone's worries. Her role is Maid of Mind, Prospit dreamer, Land of Pitch and Frames.

Annabelle Cane probably would agree to participate, but no one trusts either her or their own ability to manage her. Mikaele Salesa wouldn't want to interrupt his retirement, and if coerced he might sabotage things. Uh… that Jordan Kennedy ECDC fellow still seemed to have his head on fairly straight, right? He can anchor Corruption. (All of Corruption's strength in the Incipisphere is built on Dersite revulsion for amphibians.) His role is Page of Fire, Derse dreamer, Land of Toads and Hellbenders. (Did I mention how reliant Corruption is on Dersites and amphibians just now.)

At this point we have exhausted our living candidates. So: cast some dead people as players, force their dreamselves to form, maybe give them a nightmare about the post-Change world so they understand what's at stake, and wake them up.

The remaining fears that are really seriously strong in the Incipisphere are the Hunt (players hunt underlings hunt consorts) and the Desolation (meteors and RED MILES).

The Hunt goes to Daisy, who has been rebooted to mostly human in her dreamself and is unsurprisingly very shaken up about everything, but at least she knew about the Change (though she doesn't remember clearly). She's a secondary anchor for both Buried and Beholding. Her role is Haunt of Heart, Prospit dreamer, Land of Tracks and Traces.

Desolation goes to Tim, who is... not thrilled to be alive and conscripted again. He's somewhat mollified by it at least DEFINITELY not being more of the SAME bullshit. He's a secondary anchor for Beholding and Stranger. His role is Heir of Rage, Prospit dreamer, Land of Stone and Ashes. (He really likes the sound of Heir of Rage but isn't about to admit it.)

Stranger goes to Sasha, who is having an odd time of it. A lot of the background information everyone else knows already is new to her, and bringing her up to speed is extra work, but Jon and Martin were feeling sentimental and everyone agreed she'd be a stabilizing influence on Tim. She has MOST of her memories. People have MOST of their memories of her. (The Stranger isn't particularly strong in the Incipisphere because the locals are predisposed to accept any kind of weirdness from players without being bothered. Everything is familiar to them, no matter how strange it should seem.) She's a secondary anchor for Beholding and Spiral. Sasha's role is Clerk of Doom, Prospit dreamer, Land of Masks and Music.

Since the game prefers an even number of players, and it's already established the fourteen/fifteen don't REALLY cover everything, it's more complicated than that, maybe include an anchor for 'Unclassifiable'. Give that one to Gerry. (Jon can't decide whether he should feel guilty about this; Gerry wanted an end, but this definitely isn't life as a book.) (For his part Gerry is in 'this might as well happen' mode.) Gerry's role is Knight of Grief, Derse dreamer, Land of Tomes and Boxes.

The Incipisphere's natives aren't automatically AWARE of being steered, but they are; players always have their options restricted by alpha timeline bullshit; this particular group of players mostly got thrown into it without asking them so may be even more aware of their lack of control. All of which is to say the Web is not particularly weak and they need a trustworthy anchor. They settled on Gertrude and still aren't sure whether it was a good idea. What she thinks of it she isn't saying. Her role is Seer of Space, Prospit dreamer, Land of Webs and Frogs.

To everyone's surprise, Gertrude apparently came with a bonus Agnes. Possibly because they were leaning on her Web connections? Who knows? They set her to anchor Lonely, because even though she never had room for any marks but Desolation before she was definitely lowercase-L lonely. Agnes's role is Witch of Void, Derse dreamer, Land of Smog and Drizzle.

(At this point someone finally figures out lunar alignment is apparently being determined by whether someone has ever signed a contract with the Archives.)

The Vast goes to Adelard Dekker. Vast isn't among the strongest of the entities in the Incipisphere, but there's space involved and theoretically an entire universe, so it has definite potential and needs to be anchored by someone who won't go out of control with it. Adelard's role is Count of Hope, Derse dreamer, Land of Stars and Stairs.

That just leaves Buried, Flesh, and Spiral. None of them are particularly strong in the Incipisphere — you might think the Spiral would be, but SBURB does have its own rules.

For the Spiral, the main thing is they don't want the Distortion. They could try for non-Distortion Helen Richardson, or even non-Distortion Michael Shelley, but if something went wrong then they'd have the Distortion alive again and who knows what would happen. So… uh… hmmm… Oh, Mike Crew had a prolonged Spiral problem! He might not be very happy with the because of… everything, but he could probably be talked into cooperating for his own benefit, right? So he's reluctantly anchoring Spiral, because it's supposed to be temporary, he wants to live, and at least that stupid Lichtenberg figure hasn't showed up. He's also more human than he's used to. His role is Bard of Stone, Derse dreamer, Land of Mazes and Ravines.

And as long as they're giving second chances to dead avatars who probably don't deserve them but who did start out as traumatized children, what about Julia Montauk? She could maybe anchor the Flesh — there were those beating hearts in the shed, and she probably ran into more while Hunting… Okay, Flesh. She's not super happy about the Flesh thing but is more disoriented by being much less Hunter than she has been in years. Her role is Ghoul of Life, Derse dreamer, Land of Ribs and Regrowth.

And finally… okay, they're going to throw Buried at Jurgen Leitner. He's probably marked by about everything, and he was "buried" in the tunnels for years. It's fine. His role is Thief of Strange, Derse dreamer, Land of Pits and Dust.

How does it all turn out in the end? Who knows. Almost certainly no worse than canon will.

[novadreii]

my thoughts on castlevania s4 SPOILERS obviously

wow, i was actually impressed with hector for once. he collected the last wit about him to turn his situation around and take his balls out of lenore’s hands back into his pants. i thought he would go sicko mode on her and feared it getting a little revenge misogynistic, but i was pleasantly surprised at how civilized it was between them up until the end.

lenore was a little useless, wasn’t she? i half expected her to go, “you know what? fuck diplomacy” and just go mach 1 on everyone. eh.

isaac, oh. isaac. my favorite secondary character. wanders the desert conquesting, killing and raising the dead which made him realize things. he realized so much he marched right into carmilla’s castle while her beserker and army were away and owned her ass. good for him.

carmilla. oh, carmilla. tied with isaac for my favorite. so determined and single-minded that she sent away all her forces while she schemed in her fortress. she depended too hard on her partners doing all the work for her, and as a result she wasn’t much of a thinker, just a bloody, murdery doer. for example, she didn’t think that there were other formidable forces in the world that may want to impede her whole world domination plan? did she forget about isaac, out in the world rogue forgemastering? that was a threat she should have checked on before going global. she got too greedy, too quickly, and she paid the ultimate price for it. she went out like a fucking boss though, and i was pleased with her arc overall. as far as villains go, her raison d’etre was relatable and hard to argue with. 

the dialogue style is both one of my favorite parts of the show but also at times a pain point for me. when it’s good, it’s relaxed, comfortable and realistic and the characters play off each other really well with it (like quipping back and forth during battle which i normally hate but works well here). when it’s bad, it’s a little cringe. some dialogue scenes went on wayyyyy too long while the characters repeated things they’d literally just said verbatim, which is awkward af in screenwriting. i.e. Isaac telling Hector twice in the space of 30 seconds “Dracula earned his rest.” which is odd because impactful phrases like this usually are not repeated so as not to, yknow, dilute their impact. Also Carmilla waxing spiteful about “evil old men” and repeating some variation of the phrase 15 times in one scene. lastly, the liberal sprinkling of the word “fuck” in every other line is also like, mostly welcome but once or twice just sounded silly given the context of the scene. i’m nitpicking, here.

saint-germain. Idk much about his woman, but she definitely seemed worth slaughtering a village and raising dracula from the dead for. violent and hot as fuck, she never uttered a single word which i want to think is indicative of something but what? did we ever figure out why she kept eluding him via dimension-jumping? imagine she was trying to get away from him all this time lol. yikes.

the smartest people in this whole show are the vampire lesbians who peace tf out immediately when they see their castle is under siege and figure out carmilla is dead. LOL at them assuming useless lenore is dead too (bc, she’s useless) and just leaving her there. they packed their shit up, moved out west, presumably to build a lover’s stronghold where they could just be in vampire love forever. GOOD FOR THEM.

trevor: continued to drunkenly yell Fuck while being masterfully proficient immediately at any weapon he picks up, though eventually always ending up using his fists like the brawler he is.

sypha: if she met the avatar, she'd be like “lmao, you can ‘bend’ the elements, huh? i can use them in ways that would make your skin crawl and your head explode to even think about. sit the fuck down.”

alucard: adorable himbo with a heart of gold, needs a tough as nails gf to jerk him out of his moods and organize his kitchen for him. another round of good for him. i was a little scared they would kill off his gf but that would have been unimaginably cruel considering what he went through in s3. alucard had imo the best/most stylish fight sequences of the season. and they know what we’re about, since he was shirtless or at least in a very deep V cut most of the time. thank you.

i had 2 major predictions for this season going into it: trevor would die (permanently), and sypha would have a kid/get pregnant. i was 75% on the money.

i liked the ending message of why humans win these wars against vampires despite being slow meatbags compared to them. the vampires’ fatal flaw is resistance to change, provoked by their immortality, arrogance, and insatiable desire for power in order to provide themselves long term stability in the world. whereas humanity’s best trait is the polar opposite: adaptability. throughout history, the ability to adapt has been proven to be the determining factor in a species’ survival. vampires, for all their god-like strengths, prove to be no exception to this rule. alucard, with his human heart, is the only one with vampire blood who has proven he can make major changes and overcome personal prejudices to live a better life.

And my final thoughts on the ending are: everyone major got a satisfying end to their arc. BUT. it was just too happy. either trevor should have stayed dead, OR dracula and lisa should have gone back to hell. but not both. having everyone come back to life and go on to skip in fields just seems contrary to the tone and messaging of the whole show, which is pretty high up on the edginess scale.

i love a bittersweet ending in general, so i’m biased. imo, the joy of a mostly good ending is rendered all that much sweeter by reflecting on what was lost to obtain it. imagine:

alternate ending 1: trevor comes back, the gang lives happily ever after at Belmont Village or wtvr they name it, BUT. we see alucard lost in thought thinking about his parents, how he saw a flash of their souls during the penultimate battle. there’s regret there, the regret of shit left unsaid and shitty family dynamics unsolved. we cut immediately back to hell, with lisa and dracula embracing, maybe whispering a few lines of doomed lovers dialogue and something about their son. they’re in hell, but ultimately, they’re together. cut back to alucard, yanked out of his sad thoughts by his pretty gf who won’t let him get too deep in the weeds. shot pans out of them together with the gang. the end.

alternate ending 2: trevor is DEAD dead. sypha stays with alucard and the gang at belmont farms and raises her kid. maybe we get a 2 year timeskip and we see the little shit have some of his dad in him/her. sypha is sad about trevor but doesn’t mope about it. she runs that town like it’s a business. alucard is the best uncle to that kid & the orphans they could ask for. everyone gets trained in ass-kicking next door at the belmont hold. lisa and dracula are miraculously alive through whatever convoluted bs makes it work, and contemplate one day moving back to see their son. dracula has a moment to realize that his family is mostly human, and what he loves in them he can learn to tolerate from all of humanity.

don’t those feel happy but just. TINGED. with just enough sadness to be more memorable? idk i may just be a masochist.

i haven’t mentioned the technical aspects such as animation and direction because they were amazing. really, really incredible animation that is going to be hard to follow up (and netflix is going to make copycats of this formula, you bet your ass they will). where cgi was used, it was excellent and barely detectable, really well integrated with 2d. so engaging to watch.

overall: 9/10

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] Also on AO3.

Chapter 3: Martin

Martin waits until everyone leaves the Archives that night. Then he waits a bit longer, just to be certain they’re gone. Then he wastes a little more time telling himself not to be stupid.

Then he sighs, pockets torch and corkscrew, and ventures into the Archives to find himself.

It’s surprisingly easy. His double, or alter ego, or future self, or…whatever the right term is for him, is waiting for him in one of the reading nooks, seated in a comfortable armchair, hands folded around a mug of tea. He turns his head as Martin approaches and smiles, a tired sort of smile. “Still here, then. How’d he take it?”

Martin eyes the other (it’s easier to think of him that way for now). He seems relaxed, mostly, but there’s a kind of tension to him, like he’s waiting for another shoe to drop. And his hands—Martin probably wouldn’t notice if his own hadn’t done the same earlier—are trembling, ever so faintly. He’s either tired or stressed or scared, or some combination of the three. Martin suddenly feels bad for adding to that, in whatever way he did.

“How’d he take it when you told him?” he parries, taking a cautious seat in the armchair across from the other. He notices another mug of tea sitting on the small table between them. “Is that for me?”

“Thought we could both use some. It’s that peppermint-chamomile blend nobody admits they drink, so it shouldn’t keep you up all night.”

Martin picks up the cup, feeling its warmth soak into his palms. Just the smell is calming, sort of. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“He…smiled,” the other says slowly. “I was a bit worried about him, to be honest. Thought he’d gone off his rocker. But…well, he was a bit paranoid at the time. Things were—it was bad. Not as bad as it got later, but still…bad. He’d gotten convinced one of us might have been trying to kill him, or might have killed Gertrude Robinson—long story why he believed that, I really can’t tell you just yet—and then he found part of a letter I’d written to Mum in the document storage room, after I’d moved back out, talking about not wanting the others to find out the truth. Combined with the fact that he’d just finished reading a statement from Trevor Herbert—you know, the vampire hunter? Apparently he didn’t actually die after giving his first one—and he sort of overreacted. Then I told him the only thing I’d been lying about was my job history, and he could relax. Said he was honestly rather relieved.”

Martin nearly chokes on the sip of tea he’s just taken. Setting it down on the table, he takes a moment to clear his throat, then says in as neutral a voice as he can, “He said the same thing to me. At the end. He wasn’t…mad or anything. Just told me to ask for help if I need it. And then he had me spend the rest of the day on filing. Wants me to look for statements that…might help with the current situation?”

He’s not sure why that comes out as a question. The other gives a thoughtful hum. “There are a few out there. Jane Prentiss made a statement in…let me think, 2014? It’s been a while since I listened to it. And I honestly don’t know exactly where it is in here.”

“Yeah, things are pretty out of order. Jon can’t figure out why Gertrude just shoved things wherever.”

“Ah—that’s a—”

“Don’t tell me. It’s a long story,” Martin says, a bit sourly.

“I know, you’re getting tired of hearing that,” the other says, sounding apologetic. “It really is, though. And…this isn’t the best place or time to tell it.”

“Why not?” Martin knows he sounds like a petulant toddler, but he feels like he’s being treated like one. “What’s the big deal?”

“I’m—waiting for someone else. Once they get here, we’ll tell you—all of you—but really, this is…they explain it better than I do. And they know how to keep you all safe once you know it. I don’t. There’s only so much I can tell you without putting you at risk, and frankly putting our whole plan to save the world in jeopardy. And I’m sorry, I know how much you hate feeling like you’re being…brushed off or kept in the dark or whatever, but I’m not doing this for fun. For right now, just know that Gertrude had her reasons, and they were…I’m not going to say they were valid, because I’m not sure it would have made a difference if she had organized the Archives properly, but I’m not sure they didn’t at least slow things down a bit.” The other takes a deep breath. “We’ll tell you everything as soon as we can. Promise.”

“When is…this someone else supposed to get here?” Martin asks. The speech took a bit of the wind out of him, actually.

“Soon, I hope. We’re…relying on someone else for transportation, shall we say, and we were warned it would be unreliable. Problem is, I don’t know if we came through at the same time but in different places, or if we’ll come through in the same place but at different times.”

“And you don’t have a way of communicating with one another?”

The other hesitates again. “Not…really. They can find me, though. In theory, anyway. They always could before. And if they can’t, well, we both know the plan, and it involves the Archives, so they’ll be heading this way anyway. I just…don’t know for sure.”

Martin bites his lip. “Is it—look, what if you came through the same place at different times, but they got here first? Would they have…”

“They’d have found me by now. I’d bump into them trawling through the Archives after you’re supposed to be sleeping.” A familiar dimple winks in the other’s cheek as he smiles, if only for a second. “Trust me. I know it’s hard to believe, but they wouldn’t have just…left me. Wherever they are, if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me.”

Martin tries not to be skeptical, but he can’t help but think that whoever this someone else is, they must be someone he hasn’t met yet. Even Tim or Sasha, if they came back in time with him to fix something, would immediately apply themselves to solving the problem rather than waste time worrying about where he might be. Unless something changes drastically between now and whenever his counterpart came back—you know, besides the end of the world—he very much doubts they ever would. He wants to ask when he meets this person, but decides against it. The fact that his counterpart has changed the timeline means that now he might not meet that person, and that’s a bit of a depressing thought. That saving the world might come at the cost of Martin being that important to someone.

It’s worth it, but it’s still a bit depressing.

“Would they have looked for you before?” The question slips out before he can stop it, and he wants to bite his tongue in half, then decides, to hell with it. He might as well press on. “Before the end of the world, I mean.”

“Not only would they,” the other says, quietly but with steel in his voice, “but they did. They found out I was heading into a dangerous situation and practically moved heaven and earth to find me and bring me back safely. Almost literally. So when I say I know they’re coming, I know. I’m more certain of that than I’ve ever been of anything else in my life.”

“And you’re not…worried about them?”

“Constantly. Just like I’m sure they worry about me. But I know they won’t give up on me, any more than I’ll ever give up on them. They’ll find me.”

“Why don’t you go find them?” Martin asks. If whatever plan they have involves them needing to be together…

The other shakes his head slowly. “If they’re going to come out at the same place but not the same time, I’ll just be wasting time I could be using to lay the groundwork here. And if they’re already on the way from wherever they ended up…what if we miss one another? I’m not adding to their worries more than I have to.”

Martin desperately wants to change the subject now. He can hear the strain in the other’s voice, but more than that, he hears the undercurrent of real, genuine love. He and…whoever else is coming back…have a deep bond, nigh-unshakable, and Martin wants that, longs for it. And it kills him knowing that he’s likely not going to get it. He’s sure he’ll never meet this person now.

“So,” he says finally. “Until they get here…what can you tell me?”

The other takes a slow, thoughtful sip of his tea. “I can tell you that you’re in danger.”

“But you said—”

“Oh, not from the worms. Not really. It’s the Archives. The Institute.”

The other pauses. For a long moment there’s no sound but the usual noises of an old building settling for the evening and the gentle susurration of the climate control system. Martin sips at the tea, feels the herbs curl gently into his stomach, and wonders how much anxiety is going to surge past the soothing mint and chamomile as soon as his older counterpart starts talking again. That the Institute is creepy isn’t really news to him, but dangerous?

“There are…forces in this world you know nothing about,” the other says at last. “Powerful beings. They thrive on fear. They are fear. And one of them was behind the founding of the Institute.”

“And it’ll—do what? Hurt me? Control me?”

“Not…really? Not on purpose, anyway. It’s fond of you.”

Martin supposes that makes sense. A being that thrives on fear? He must be a veritable feast. Especially right now. It’s probably fond of him the way a glutton might be fond of a smorgasbord, or at least a cheeseboard if anxiety doesn’t quite have the same level of sustenance as fear. For a wild moment, he considers asking, then decides in favor of listening silently to the other continue.

“But these beings have…I don’t even really know what to call them. Servants? Worshipers? Devotees? We used to call some of them avatars, but that’s not really accurate. There are people who come under their power, willingly or unwillingly, and some of them get powers from these things. They don’t lose their free will, for the most part. They still have a degree of autonomy under their powers, although they can be punished, sometimes pretty severely, for doing something too contrary to what their…entity wants, or needs. But…well. There’s at least one person under the—being that founded the Institute’s thrall that doesn’t care if you get hurt or not. Right now, anyway.”

“Right now,” Martin repeats. “And later?”

“Hopefully, you’ll never have to find out what he can do if he does want to hurt you.”

The pain in the other’s voice is palpable, and he looks…lost. Martin’s blood runs cold as he considers the possible interpretations of that. Logically, a fear being that wants to hurt you would make you more afraid, right? But possibly give you a valid reason for that fear, so that you’d be irrationally afraid of seemingly innocuous things later. Like in the Carlos Vittery statement, when he accidentally killed a spider and then fell into the egg sac and was swarmed by them and…

“Hang on,” Martin blurts. “Is there—does one of these fear beings have to do with spiders?”

“Ah—yes, actually. Not the one that runs the Institute, though.”

“Christ, is that why Jon’s so averse to spiders? He ran into that being once? Did it hurt him? Is it still after him?”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” The other holds out a hand, palm outward. “Short answers? Yes, yes, not exactly, and sort of. There’s a lot going on there. But that’s why I told you last night to keep an eye out for spiders. They invariably mean something is messing with him. Again.”

Martin exhales heavily. He likes spiders, always has, stemming back to his grandfather reading him Charlotte’s Web every afternoon for two weeks when he was in bed with the chicken pox. A lot of the things he loves—spiders, poetry, cherry preserves, Highland cattle—are things he discovered, or more accurately was given, at his grandfather’s knee. His mother’s father, with whom Martin had spent more time than either of his parents even before his father walked out on them, the man who taught Martin everything from his parents’ native Polish to knitting, who walked with a cane but never showed any difficulty keeping up with his only grandson. Who never told him not to be afraid, but always showed him how to fight back against his fears. His grandfather loved him—is probably the last person who really loved him, if Martin’s being honest—and he still misses him sorely. He’s never admitted to Jon that’s why he gets so defensive about spiders, but now he wonders what Jon would say if he did.

“Did you ever tell him?” he asks, then clarifies when the other gives him an odd look. “Why you like spiders so much. About Granddad and all.”

“A little. Not about the spiders, though. By the time we were close enough to talk about that sort of thing, I understood a little better why he didn’t like them and we avoided the subject if we could.”

Martin wants to ask how long that took, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to force things if it won’t happen that quickly for him, and he also doesn’t want to hold back from trying if he hears that it’s “supposed” to be a while. Let things happen at their own pace, he supposes. That’s all he really can do.

“Hypothetically speaking,” he says slowly, “and not to change the subject, but…how long do you have to stop the world from ending?”

The other puffs out his cheeks and exhales. “Couple years? But it’s…we’re trying to slow the prep work, so to speak. We’re hoping we can stop it altogether. Might only be able to delay the inevitable, but we have to try.”

“Even though you survived the world ending?”

“Especially because we survived the world ending.”

“Did we all survive it?” Martin asks. “Tim? Sasha? Jon?”

There’s a long silence before the other replies, “Everyone who was alive when the world ended continued to be alive after. It’s just that a lot of them wished they weren’t.”

Martin really, really wishes he didn’t ask. And even though he’s burning to know whether any of them regretted being alive past the end of the world, he decides to table that question…for now. The other looks like he’s in real pain, and Martin wouldn’t make that worse even if it wasn’t his own face he’s seeing that look on. Which is still really weird to contemplate.

“So what can I do?” he asks instead.

“I told you. Keep—”

“Keep Jon safe, I know. That’s—you should know you don’t have to actually tell me to do that, really. But I mean…other than that. What can I do to help you?”

The other pauses. He tilts his head slightly to one side, like he’s listening to something Martin can’t hear, or like he’s studying him, or maybe just like he’s thinking. Finally, he says, “Where are you hiding the fire extinguishers?”

“Everywhere I can.” Martin wonders that the other doesn’t know that, if he was, well, him.

“No, I know that. It’s just…I don’t have my bearings anymore. The Archives…I haven’t been down here in, well, a long time. I don’t remember where everything is off the top of my head. And trying to find things without—” The other stops. “I’m trying not to be seen by any of you, really. Obviously I’m failing, but I’m trying. It’s hard to move around without…making noise or drawing attention. Harder than it used to be, anyway.”

“Oh.” Martin should have guessed that. He thinks for a minute. “I’ll grab you a couple, if you want. Then you can put them somewhere you’ll remember. I’d give you this one, but…”

The other smiles. “Thank you. I do appreciate that. But if you’re asking what you can do to help with the plan…well, you really can help best by keeping Jon safe.”

“Are you going to ever tell me what the plan is?”

“Eventually. When it’s not just me. It’s—it’s going to take some work. Not as easy as we’d like it to be, and…well, there’s a bit of an additional difficulty now. I don’t know how long it’s going to take us to be ready, or able, to do what needs doing. But we were always planning to bring you all in.”

Martin is bursting with questions, but he tries to tamp it down and be patient. “In that case…want me to fill you in on what we’re working on? Will that help?”

The other’s smile is broad and wistful. “Absolutely. Let’s hear it.”

[kentuckywrites]

Imperium 2: Chapter 1

Gratam mundi. (Welcome to the world.)

Elma decided, somewhere in the middle of Secretary Nagi’s speech, that it was a crime to schedule meetings during sunny days. BLADE Tower’s top floor was partially surrounded by windows, giving a full view to the city outside. The sunlight teased those inside with a considerable glare, a promise that nothing would dare stand in its way. For once, the meeting flew by, and Elma retained only bits and pieces of it, longing to escape outside. Maybe she could convince Lin to take the day off and come along for a picnic. Goodness knows, she hadn’t had the chance to sit down and truly relax, not even after the Lifehold was found. 

The meeting was partially about that, after all. After her mission to the Lifehold, she’d discovered that the Lifehold had been flooded. On all accounts, everyone with a mimeosome in the city should have collapsed, never to wake up. And yet, something - something - was keeping the Lifehold in working order. Even the Outfitters couldn’t place what was powering the Lifehold, and they’d dug for a while trying to figure it out. Somewhere along the months and months of research, things shifted, and instead the focus was on using the Lifehold to create real human bodies. The meeting was a debrief on what the Outfitters had put together on the matter, which didn’t amount to much, unfortunately. Those systems were damaged after the crash, after the Ganglion attack, after the Vita and Luxaar and Lao and those hideous, awful chimeras. Elma shuddered at the memory.

When Nagi dismissed everyone, Elma was, regrettably, not the first one out the door. She made small talk with Nagi as the first group of people crammed into the elevator, waited for them to head down, waited for the elevator to come back up and take her to the first floor. It was quiet, thankfully, and when she stepped out into the bright summer air, she inhaled, exhaled. Freedom never tasted so sweet.

Elma took a few steps down the stairs, her goal in mind. She’d ask Lin about that picnic, maybe rope Gwin and Irina into joining them. She made the turn into Armory Alley and quickly spotted Lin, who was talking with L at his shop. She was holding something rather long in her hands. A pipe, of some kind? Elma couldn’t imagine what it was at first glance. As she grew closer, she caught some of the conversation.

“...from the interior of a xe-dom! Ferocious mechanical beasts, mind you, and so the part you hold is the rarest sight indeed!”

“Ooh, a xe-dom? What did it do? What was it connected to? Maybe I can incorporate it into this new Skell weapon I’m designing -”

“We believe that it - ah, Elma!” L caught sight of Elma, who approached Lin’s right side and peered at the pipe curiously.

“Elma!” Lin chirped, “How’d the meeting go? Any update on getting our real bodies back?”

Elma shook her head. “Unfortunately, not much progress has been made yet. It’ll be a while before we can say for certain when the Outfitters will be able to finish repairs to the Lifehold.”

“Aw man,” Lin sighed, “Well, it’s still good to hear that work’s being done. I still can’t believe I wasn’t recruited to help with that.”

“Your skills are far more valuable in the city than out there,” She said, “I know it doesn’t feel like much of anything, but trust me. The work you’ve been doing on Skells here is crucial.”

“I know, I know.” 

Lin turned back to L, whose hands were clasped. He was leaning in slightly, as if he was trying to better hear the news Elma had brought along. “Hey L, how much did you say this would be again?”

“Ah, we are so pleased that your interested is picked!” L cheered, “It would be a mere five thousand credits for such a fine -”

“Deal!” Lin juggled her new pipe and her comm device as she transferred the credits over to L’s device. He smiled as his own device pinged with the newly received credits, and Lin quickly put her comm device away to admire her purchase. “Man oh man...L, would you let me know if you find any more of these?”

“But of course! We shall keep your name reserved and primed for any incoming materials of that nature,” L nodded, “Does anything else swipe your curiosities this fine afternoon?”

Elma spoke up before Lin could properly respond. “Actually, L, do you have time to spare today? I was thinking of taking the rest of the day off and inviting some friends along for a picnic out in Primordia. The weather’s beautiful for it.”

“Ooh, a picnic? Please tell me I’m invited,” Lin begged, “I need an excuse to get out of the workshop. Feels like I’ve been holed up in there for centuries!!”

“Of course you’re invited, Lin.”

“Yay!!”

L sighed wistfully. “We so wish to join, but our dearest assistant is out today, and we are tasked with managing this stand with our own two hands.”

“Is Jejebba okay?” Lin asked, concerned.

“Ah, he is doing most wonderfully!” L shook his hands in defense, “He is merely engaging in celebratory festivities. A friend of his recently partook in what humans would call ‘marriage’, and their party has since moved to Army Pizza.”

“I didn’t know Ma-non got married…” Lin wondered out loud, “I guess you learn something new every day.”

“That’s a shame, L,” Elma said, “Perhaps another day, then.” She turned to Lin, glancing at the pipe still in her hands before asking, “Do you know where Pongo is? We could ask him to come along.”

“Like a big family reunion!” Lin said, “Man, I haven’t seen him in ages, actually. What about you, L, has he stopped by recently?”

L put a thoughtful finger to his chin. “We don’t believe he has, not in quite some time. Last we heard, he was assigned to a tippy top secret mission!”

“Did it have anything to do with...the you know what?”

Elma watched L’s expression change in mere seconds. Of course, they both knew what Lin was referring to. It seemed like only yesterday that they’d seen Pongo walking through the city again, renewed and alive after the events in Cauldros. And it felt surreal, knowing that he was never truly human. Pongo was, in fact, an avatar of Mira, a creation of the sentient planet that it could inhabit and influence. From what Pongo had explained, his relationship with Mira was somewhat tense. They were both learning about what it meant to share a body, and though Elma couldn’t quite relate to his plight, she was proud of how Pongo was handling things. 

Well...proud of most of it. She couldn’t admit to it out loud, but hearing about how he needed to sacrifice himself, watching him fall into Mount M’Gando without a second thought...it scared her. Not much could affect her, but many things on Mira had, and she knew many things on Mira would continue to haunt her. Even now, hearing that Pongo had been away on this mission for a while, she couldn’t help but worry. He was an incredibly strong companion, and it had been an honor watching him grow and improve. But he was always self-sacrificing, always cared about others more than himself. He couldn’t stop crossing the line, let alone draw the line himself. 

And that worried look on L’s face...Elma thought of all the possibilities, good and bad. What did he know that they didn’t? Did he harbor the same fears?

“He would have informed us if his mission were to do with Mira,” L said, after a long pause. “He only managed to provide small cutouts of his true intent, but neglected to tell us specifics. From what we gathered, Pongo is the conductor of some form of treasure hunt.”

Some of the tension in Elma’s shoulders released, and Lin got stars in her eyes, blissfully ignorant of her and L’s concern. “Now that sounds exciting!! Forget working on the Lifehold or Skells, Miran buried treasure sounds awesome!”

“I bet he’ll tell us all about it once he returns,” Elma said, “For now, Lin, shall we prepare for the picnic?”

“Heck yeah!” She waved goodbye to L, who waved back with a somewhat forced smile. “See ya later, L! Thanks again for the pipe!”

“It is our pleasure!” L replied as they walked further away, his attention suddenly shifting to a new potential customer that had approached his shop. Elma led Lin down Armory Alley, who was skipping along with a pep in her step. It relieved Elma’s tensions further, seeing the young Outfitter look so full of life. Perhaps her concerns were a little misguided, rooted in previous encounters. After all, Pongo was a capable young man, and he could hold his own in a fight. She only hoped that whatever treasure he was after, he was cautious in his approach and took the right measures to -

“Elma?”

Elma blinked, realizing she had become lost in her thoughts. Lin was tugging her arm gently, the pipe cradled in her elbow, and she was using her other hand to point further ahead. Elma squinted. There was nothing terribly interesting up ahead, save for the usual tents, some Skells walking past, BLADEs whispering to each other as a woman, tattered and beaten, walked through the East Gate -

Wait a minute.

Elma didn’t waste any time in rushing forward. Even though everyone around her looked on with slight horror, she could only see that the woman was badly hurt, and she’d need help fast. She made it to the woman just in time to catch her as she fell, and Elma let her head rest on her shoulder. Her entire body was covered in blood, bruises, open gashes leaking blue...but at least, doing a quick once-over, nothing vital had been damaged. All flesh wounds, in an ironic twist.

Lin was by Elma’s side in a matter of seconds, her comm device out and scanning over the woman’s body. Some small beeps resonated from the device, and Lin looked up at Elma, frowning. “She seems okay, based on the scan. Maybe we should get her to the MMC just in case.”

“No...no.”

Elma was shocked when she heard the woman speak. She lifted her head slightly, her short black hair tickling Elma’s nose. Underneath her hair, Elma could see light skin, some scratches on her face, and…

Her eyes. Indigo, pupiless. 

Just like Pongo’s.

“You must be Elma,” The woman gave a weak smile, “Sorry we had to meet like this. But...but I need your help. Pongo’s in trouble.”

Elma’s heart sank to her stomach. Lin’s eyes went wide, and any stars left over from her astonishment at the pipe vanished. 

“You know Pongo?” Lin asked a question that Elma knew the probable answer to, but she wouldn’t be certain until she heard it from the woman’s lips.

The woman tried to sit herself up straighter, but Elma kept her hands on her forearms to make sure she didn’t fall again. She spoke again, after forcing a light giggle.

“I’m...well, I’m his sister. I’m Nessa-vara’is, but you can call me Nessa for short.”

[cocoapeach1]

Spiritmates (M): chapter 2 (zuko x reader)

Summary: You have a supernatural and rare bond with the Fire nation heir that is beyond anything you’ve ever known... only neither you or he knows it yet. His mission to capture the avatar is the exact opposite to yours - to help them. You’ll do whatever it takes. But so will he.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

FF Page

~

The prophecy

It was freezing.

So cold it almost like nature wanted to fight back in the less destructive and therefore limited ways it could.

But it would be to no avail.

Iroh supposed the Water tribe people were used to it - the chilly, bitter weather. He personally couldn’t stand it, much preferring a warm evening to relax in, and would be glad when he and his nephew eventually moved further down south to continue the chase.

Iroh sighed, warming up his quickly cooling cup of tea. He had known from the beginning that this mission was barbaric. Nearly impossible, even.

However there was something else Iroh had had his mind on. A prediction, a prophecy, that had been niggling around the back of his mind ever since it had been uttered to him.

It was almost 3 years ago now that his nephew and his crew were boarding the ship they would take for the perilous quest. People had come to see them off, give encouraging words and parting gifts.

Iroh had been the last to arrive, though only by a few minutes. Most of the small crowd had dissipated anyway, finding better things to do.

But there were two distinct people waiting for him whose presence made him wary.

Lo and Li.

“On the day the skies flow like blood,” one said.

“Our prince’s emotions will start to flood.” Came from the other.

“Time he now has to learn to hate,”

“And he will, until a special date...”

“When he meets his Spiritmate,” they chorused.

Iroh tried to act indifferent on the outside but on the inside, he was shocked to his core. A Spiritmate? That could complicate things. He settled for narrowing his eyes in suspicion at the pair of crazy old bats. He had never liked them and steered away from them whenever it physically possible. But this was his nephew they were talking about. And a potential Spiritmate of his.

“Where will they meet?” he had hissed quietly. The two siblings looked smugly at Iroh before replying. “Before a fight on icy terrain.” “And that is all we are able to say.”

Iroh shook himself out of his flashback and exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself for the next day. It would be an interesting one, that was for sure. ~ Earlier before...

“The Fire Nation won’t win this fight (y/n).”

Your eyes widened comically at Zuko’s words. It was common knowledge between all nations that opposition of any kind was not tolerated in the Fire Nation by its citizens - the punishment for doing so was long term imprisonment.

“H-how can you tell?” you faltered.

He glanced away from you pensively, looking towards the shadowed alcoves of the courtyard.

“I just have a feeling,” Zuko replied. “Make sure you meet me and my uncle after, he’ll tell us what he knows.” I guess I don’t really have much of choice here... What if his uncle doesn’t know anything about them? What will we do? His amber eyes locked back onto yours, awaiting your response.

“Okay...” you agreed. The quicker you could get this thing removed, the quicker things would go back to being normal. Semi-normal at least. Little did you know how mistaken you were.

You sighed heavily before burying your head into Zuko’s coat for a second time, relishing in the constant warmth that emanated from his body.

Never before had you felt so relaxed than you did now and you had a strong feeling that Zuko felt the same.

For a long time the two of you stood in each other’s arms, savouring the peaceful moment you had found yourselves in, both not wanting to disturb it. But eventually, it had to be done.

“I-i have to go, (y/n)...”

You squeezed your eyes shut, heart clenching painfully.

“Be safe, Zuko,” you murmured into his chest.

Just as you were about to pull away, Zuko’s arm snaked around your waist and before you had time to react, your body was abruptly pulled flush against his.

A gasp escaped from you.

A smirk from him.

And ever so slowly, he began to lean forward, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

Your arms proceeded to slither up and around his neck, connecting at the nape before your lips met his for a passion-filled kiss.

~

He was absolutely revolted. Furious. Scarred for life.

How dare this Fire Nation scum have the nerve to even think about touching her. She was his. No one else’s. She belonged to him. No arguments. She was his and he was hers and that’s how it always would be. He had always loved her.

Ever since she had stood up to his bullies for him once when they were 7, Ali had loved her. She was strong, clever, beautiful and kind. What was there not to love about her?

Admittedly, most of this loving was done from afar but that was irrelevant. He regretted that she didn’t know what his true feelings for her were but that probably didn’t matter. Ali figured she probably felt the same for him and was too shy to say anything - just like he was.

He watched over her, was her protector at all times - just like she was for him once. Even when she slept. But that wasn’t creepy. If anything, it made his love for her grow, witnessing all the cute things she did unconsciously. Like when she would mumble things in her slumber or dribble onto her pillow.

She was the only person who could make him lost for words, make him nervous. She piqued his curiosity.

Despite this, Ali still couldn’t comprehend how his flower, his rose, his love had wound up in this shithead’s arms. Spirits above, she looked like she was enjoying it. No... that wasn’t possible... the son of a bitch keeping her captive probably manipulated her and she was confused. Or she was pretending she liked it so he wouldn’t hurt her. Ali’s lip curled up in disgust.

Poor baby. His poor, poor baby.

But why this bastard was even here in the first place, Ali simply couldn’t work out.

Her beauty was so great, Ali thought, it managed to lure him out... Yes that sounded about right. He sighed inwardly. After they’d get married he’d have to lock her away forever, keep her from people like this vile, wretched, fire nation piece of dirt. It would be cruel but it would be for her own good. He would be keeping her safe. Unlike this slob here - he didn’t even know that they were being watched. He didn’t know how to keep her safe.

Ali’s fists tightened by his sides. He ought to send him running back to his ship with the rest of his coward nation buddies, more like. Too afraid to fight while the moon was bright. Cowards.

Relief flooded through him when the object of his desire began to move away from the slimy thing. But it was not even a second later that the desperate shit had his arms wrapped around her - again - and rather suddenly since his pearl had let out a fearful squeak.

Ali fought the urge to shoot an icicle through his head. Whether the head was his own or the other man’s, he didn’t know. Honestly, he didn’t mind whose it was at this point. Temporarily engrossed in his thoughts, Ali focused onto them again, only to find the pair lip locked for the umpteenth time. His stomach roiled violently, causing bile to rise into his throat and that’s when Ali knew - he was going to murder him.

He had overheard their plans for her to meet him somewhere - where that place was, Ali didn’t know. But he’d follow her. Just like he’d been doing for years.

And with that last thought, Ali shrank further into the courtyard’s dark crevices, eager to plot his plan.

[localswordlesbian]

Something There That Wasn’t There Before: Chapter 2

Read Chapter 2 on AO3

Read Chapter 1 on Tumblr

In which Martin realizes what his mother's actions mean for his future, and he finally meets this reclusive "boss" he's been hearing so much about.

Martin blinked at where the door had bin, his brain coming to a complete halt as he stared. What had just happened?

A whistle behind him shook him out of his stupor. He turned to see the two strange people looking at him. Helen looked amused while Michael looked troubled.

“Well, that was the most fun I’ve had since Mary dropped little Gerry off months ago!” Helen crooned, dropping to balance on the balls of her feet to be level with Martin – he hadn’t noticed he’d sank down against the wall, sitting on the damp ground.

“I have to say,” Michael mused. “She seemed nasty, but I didn’t expect that. Are you okay?”

Martin couldn’t answer. His mother wanted him to stay. She wanted him to stay in this terrifying castle with these weird people rather than going home with her. She no longer wanted him to care for her – he’d braved the woods, and for what? The bitterness rose in his throat again and threatened to choke him, and his eyes stung. He blinked, refusing to cry in front of these two. Whoever they were.

When he managed to look up, there was another door, this one purple, shimmering in the wall. Michael was looking at him, his expression soft. Helen had a gleam in her eye that made Martin shiver with apprehension.

At his doubtful look, Michael shrugged. “This will go to the dining room. You look like you’ve had a long night.”

Martin debated arguing, saying he didn’t trust Michael as far as he could throw him, but exhaustion weighed down his bones, and even holding his head up and eyes open was taking all his energy. So he took a step forward, opening the door and stepping through. As the door closed, he felt a pressure at the back of his head that had him groaning in pain before he stepped out onto solid ground, vertigo causing him to lean to the side before collapsing with a heavy thump.

He vaguely heard voices shouting as he drifted out of consciousness, and the last thing he heard was someone asking “Is he alright?” before the darkness took over his vision and he fell into blessed sleep.

Martin came to slowly, grogginess keeping his eyes closed. He heard several voices around him.

“He came through one of Helen’s doors. I wonder what happened.”

“I saw him when he walked in, freezing his poor arse off. Said he was looking for his mum.”

“D’you think he found her?”

“Do you happen to see an old lady anywhere around here, Tim?”

“Maybe Helen sent her through a different door!”

“Well, he’s here now, wherever his mum is.”

There was a pause in the conversation, then: “He’s pretty cute, though.”

“Oh for god’s sake, Tim–“

“What? I’m not wrong.”

Martin fought to open his eyes, bright light assaulting his senses as he took a deep breath. He vaguely saw three figures hovering over him. “Where am I?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” one of the figures exclaimed. Martin squinted, trying to make out any features, to  no avail. Someone must have taken off his glasses.

As if on cue, a hand held them out to him. “Here,” came the kind feminine voice. Martin put on his glasses and saw a dark skinned girl sitting on the couch near his legs, with glasses of her own and her dark, curly hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She had a kind smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”

Martin sat up, attempting a smile back. “I– I’m alright. Confused, but alright.”

The girl smiled sympathetically, fidgeting with the hem of her dark T-shirt. “That’s understandable. My name’s Sasha. Sasha James.” She stuck out her hand to him, and he shook it.

“Martin. Martin Blackwood.”

Sasha smiled at him again. “It’s nice to meet you, Martin. Welcome to our weird little family.”

Martin took another look around the room. Standing next to Sasha was the man he’d encountered yesterday, dressed in a black studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. He nodded at Martin, and Martin nodded back. “Gerard Keay, but you can call me Gerry.”

“Nice to meet you,” Martin said meekly.

Lastly, next to Gerry, there was a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt so bright and colourful that Martin wondered whether this man was Helen and Michael’s missing third. He was broad, with tanned skin and black hair that looked like it was purposely styled to be messy. He was grinning, leaning down and bracing his hands next to Martin and leaning close to his face as Martin leaned away. “Yeah, I was right, he is cute,” the man said conclusively, and Martin could feel his face heating. “I’m Tim Stoker. Guess you’re one of us now.”

Martin chuckled nervously. “And, uh, who exactly would that be?”

Tim leaned back, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Archival Assistants, which basically means we laze around and sometimes fetch a file for Jon.”

“Jon?”

“Jonathan Sims,” Sasha explained. “Our boss.”

That must have been the boss Michael and Helen mentioned. “Ah. Helen and Michael mentioned him. Wondered if I was, uh, his type? Anyone know what that’s about?”

The three assistants exchanged a look, seeming to have a silent conversation that Martin wasn’t privy to.

“That’s a long story,” Gerry finally said. “If you want to stay, you can. If not, you’re free to go. You don’t have any responsibility to anyone here.”

Martin considered Gerry’s words. He could leave, try and find his way back to town, figure out what to do. What would he do? His mother didn’t want him, she’d made that perfectly clear. It wasn’t like he had friends he could stay with, and though he could live in the library he didn’t particularly want to burden Phil. He remembered his promise to Jack with a pang, wondering whether the boy was waiting at the well for him to return and read to him. “I–I don’t really have anywhere to go,” he said finally, cringing at how self-pitying he sounded. Good job, Martin.

Sasha gave him another kind smile, placing a hand on his knee. “It’s okay, Martin. You can stay here. It might even help, having another assistant.”

Martin nodded, returning Sasha’s smile shyly. “Do you guys live here? Is there anyone else?”

Tim pursed his lips. “Yeah, we live here, though not by choice.” Sasha smacked his arm. “What? Might as well tell him the truth.” At Martin’s concerned look, Tim’s face softened. “Basically, the boss pissed off a very powerful witch of a man, and we all happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. That place being here, and the time being when that bastard–

“Tim–“

“Fine, absolute piece of shit fucker–“

“Tim!”

“Oh, come off it, Sasha! You know it’s true. That asshole decided that the best punishment was to trap Jon here, turning him into an avatar of the Beholding until someone falls in love with him. So, of course, Jon being Jon just locked himself upstairs in the West Wing half the time because he thinks no one could love a monster.”

“Give Jon a break, Tim. It can’t be easy for him.”

“I know it’s not.” Tim sighed, meeting Sasha’s eyes for a moment before looking back to Martin. Gerry stood quietly off to the side. “Look, I love Jon as much as any of you guys, but this is getting ridiculous. The longer he stays locked away, the longer we’re stuck here.”

Gerry met Martin’s eyes. “Don’t take this the wrong way. We’re not asking you to seduce our boss or anything. We’re just explaining the situation.”

Sasha jumped. “Oh, of course we’re not suggesting anything, Martin!” she said hurriedly. “No one expects you to. Like Gerry said, just explaining.” Tim said nothing.

“What’s the Beholding?” Martin asked. “And who was this witch man?”

Tim sighed. “The Beholding is one of fourteen fear entities that sort of–watches over our world. Every fear is a result of these fourteen. The Beholding is the fear of being watched, your secrets being known. Jonah Magnus, the motherfucker, was an avatar of the Beholding a couple hundred years ago, and has kept himself alive by transferring his eyeballs into a host.”

Martin cringed. “Ew.”

Tim nodded gravely. “Ew indeed. Anyway, that host is who cursed Jon, because he refused to become an avatar willingly. So now we’re all fucked.”

Martin sat back, mind reeling. “Huh,” was all he managed to say.

Sasha nodded before patting his knee again. “I know, it’s a lot. Don’t worry yourself too much – again, it really doesn’t need to involve you.” She sounded genuine as she gave him a smile and stood. “Come on, I’m going to make tea. Maybe you can meet the others, too.”

Martin smiled gratefully at her as he stood, Gerry following while Tim threw his arm over Martin’s shoulder, his mischievous grin back. “Welcome to the family.”

Martin did end up meeting everyone. Daisy, with her muscular, scarred arms, freckled skin, shorn blonde hair, and clipped Welsh accent. Basira, with her soft smile, olive skin, and pale blue hijab matching her mug of tea. Georgie, with her friendly demeanour, skin just a shade lighter than Sasha’s, and kinked hair pulled back with a headband. Melanie, Georgie’s girlfriend, with her brown bob of wavy hair, pale skin, perpetual scowl, and sightless glass eyes. He even met the cat, The Admiral, a fat orange thing that purred like an earthquake in a blender when scratched behind the ear just right.

Over the next few days, Martin helped where he could, retrieving files for Sasha that were too high for her to reach, helping Basira sort through old papers and journals in the castle’s library, giving Georgie a hand with cooking. He even had some lively discussions with Gerry about books they’d both read.

Martin also learned everyone’s tea preferences, and would occasionally bring people piping hot mugs while they worked or relaxed. If he was going to be staying here, he was determined to be helpful.

That left one person he hadn’t met yet – the reclusive Archivist. Jonathan Sims. The cursed man, the man someone had to fall in love with in order to free everyone in the castle.

Everyone except Martin.

He nearly scoffed at the whole situation. It sounded right out of a fairy tale. He wondered what being an avatar entailed. Could Jonathan Sims see everything? Hear everything?

“Essentially, yes.”

The unfamiliar voice behind him – posh, deep, and smooth – made Martin jump, spilling piping hot tea over the rim of his mug and splashing his hand, causing him to hiss in pain. He whipped around, clutching his hand, to see who had spoken, and he nearly crashed into the counter.

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen was a frail man, with brown skin covered in circular scars. The man was short, the top of his head perhaps reaching up to Martin’s nose. He had a mottled burn scar covering one hand, and a line at his throat as though he’d been held at knifepoint. He had long, wavy black hair that was streaked through with gray, which he’d put in a bun on top of his head. He was dressed in a collared shirt and jumper, and a pair of glasses perched at the end of his nose.

For a moment, Martin simply stared, speechless. “I–what?”

The man walked over to him, eyes never leaving Martin’s face. Martin’s neck prickled, like he was being watched. “You were wondering if I, Jonathan Sims, can see everything, hear everything. Because I’ve been turned into an avatar of the Beholding. And the answer, essentially, is yes.”

It took Martin half a minute of gawking at this man before he could answer. “You can read my mind?”

“For the most part. I tend to stay out of people’s heads – it’s a bit of a privacy issue. But you’re new, and I was curious. Martin Blackwood, was it?”

Martin blinked. “Yeah, I– could you not do that? Look in my head? Privacy issue and all.”

Jonathan nodded. “Of course. I apologize, I should have mentioned it before. Also, you can just call me Jon.”

Martin nodded slowly. “Okay, Jon,” he said. Jon looked up at him, an amused smile quirking his lips upward. Martin realized with horror that he’d said Jon’s name just for the sake of saying it. He fumbled for something to say. “Would you like some tea?”

Jon looked up at him for a moment before nodding. “That would be nice.”

Of course, Martin thought. Of course the reclusive guy that needs someone to fall in love with him is exactly my type. Of course he’s adorable and good looking. God has cursed my hubris.

Martin tried to chase the thoughts out of his head as he got to making Jon a cup of tea, but it was no use. He was in so much trouble.

[centaurianthropology]

The Magnus Archives Season 4 Binge-a-thon (Contains spoilers through the finale)

I’m back!  Life and work have been crazy, but I really wanted to binge the half-season since I last listened in order to get in on the season finale.  It’s been quite the experience.  The last time I binged TMA was season 1, since I started listening at the beginning of season 2.  I had really wondered which way was better listening: twenty minutes every week, having things play out gradually, or in one huge go.

I have to say, things flow really well as one run-through binge.  I couldn’t say I hands-down prefer doing it this way, but that the structure really holds up as a binge.  Plus, the evolving storyline begins to run at a less gradual pace.  The build-up of tension is strong, and I really ended up enjoying my binge.  

I think part of the danger of listening to each week is that you get lost in the minutia.  It lets you pick over everything, which can be great, but it can also be frustrating.  The character choices are that much more maddening when you have to wait a week to see how things turn out (and one character in particular in this latter half of season 4 I found particularly frustrating, so I think that listening week by week to that would have been a challenge).  

I figured I’d go through some thoughts on the episodes, starting with where I left off at ‘Decrypted’ and going from there.  I’ll be talking about episodes in little chunks as I go, with random comments in each section:

Decrypted, Infectious Doubts, Threshold

It’s interesting how much the Lonely was infecting the whole Institute at this stage in the story, although during these episodes it seemed like everyone hadn’t quite noticed it.  Or they’d gotten so used to it during Jon’s coma that they stopped noticing how bad things were getting.  

Listening now, it seems like Basira got hit the hardest, and that combines with the fact that she also seems to notice it the least.  While in season 3 she was the level-headed one, here she’s trying to take that level-headedness too far.  She wants all the answers so she can make the best decisions, but she refuses to wait for answers, and she refuses to acknowledge that those answers might be complicated.

The Lonely may also be the explanation for her detachment.  As in the plot as she is, she’s desperate to not engage emotionally with any of it.  Even Daisy seems to be held at arms-length, and Jon is labeled a monster without any unpacking of that term or what it would mean.  She also seems to refuse to address how close Jon and Daisy’s behaviors have been, at their worst, and that Jon is in the throes of his hunger, while Daisy was starved of hers forcibly.  She chooses to remain calm and chooses to work to overcome the Hunt, but her initial detox program was very much not of her own choosing.  She has simply chosen to stick to it, to embrace the good thing that came out of her imprisonment in the Buried.  Jon is struggling because he’s not being forcibly weaned, and no amount of Basira calling him a monster is going to prompt him to stop.  

I think that Basira, at this point, is perhaps the most blinkered of the characters.  She’s so focused on results that she refuses to do any sort of self-inventory.  She’s so convinced of her own rationality that she misses the places where she’s irrational: Jon has always been a semi-threat to her, so she can much more easily slide into thinking of him as a monster.  Daisy, on the other hand, was her partner; someone she trusted and cared about.  It’s much harder to look at someone you love and call them a monster.  She can see the shades of gray in Daisy, but it’s easier to ignore them in Jon.

As much as I think Basira likes to think of herself as the rational one, I think Melanie and Daisy fit that better at this point.  Both have passed through their own marking by one of the powers, and both have had their own time as monsters.  And that gives them both an outsider’s perspective on the situation, and an insider’s perspective.  And both had to be forcibly wrenched away from their respective powers.  As much as Melanie resents being torn away against her will, without any say in how it happened, she now has the perspective to look at Jon’s monstrousness as both something very not good, but something complicated.  Her own feelings toward Jon are complicated.  He helped her, but he took away her free will to do it.  He’s a monster, but so was she.  

Daisy is even further along that path of understanding, having been given a LOT of time to think in the Buried about herself and her choices.  She understands far more than Melanie, and far far more than Basira how the lines between monster and personal choice blur until there is no hard line between them.  She has to own all her choices, because she may have been deep in the hunt, but being chosen by a power often happens because you love it as much as you fear it.  With perspective, she knows that her choices were awful.  That she was awful.  But in that moment, she chose the Hunt every time.

She wants to help Jon and Martin, but also knows that people need to want her help before it can really be given.  I think that’s why she left as soon as Martin told her to go.  If he wanted to reject her help, she couldn’t stop him.

Melanie is also embracing perspective, choosing to go to therapy.  Choosing to make herself better.  If she’s doing that, her demand that Jon also do better carries more weight.  He’s not yet wrenched free, but he like Daisy still has choices to make.  They’re just a lot harder when he’s inside looking out.

Jon, of course, is deep into his own monsterhood, his guilt, and his isolation.  The guilt is keeping him at least a little grounded, but the isolation is definitely not helping him not become a monster.  People overcoming addiction have to make the choice themselves, yes, but they also need support.  They need people to hold them accountable, but also know what they’ve been through so genuinely useful advice can be given.  Confronting Jon was necessary to prevent him descending further, but I feel like Daisy’s understanding and Melanie’s therapy probably helped more than Basira’s “You’re a monster; don’t eat people” statement.  

Martin wasn’t in any of these episodes, but he continues to reach out in ways that keep him at as much of an emotional arm’s length as Basira, simply without any of the confrontation.  He gave the tape to Daisy and the others after he found out about Jon feeding on people, but didn’t confront him himself.  He’s avoiding all contact with people, making it ‘easier’.  He may have a plan, but he’s also deeply infected by the Lonely.  Like Basira, I wonder if he has much perspective on himself.  They both think they’re playing things smart, but they both seem to be missing glaring parts of the world closing in around them.

Weaver, Extended Surveillance, Concrete Jungle

Jon’s addiction is tied into desire, and also into terror, and also it’s as much a choice as it is for people addicted to drugs to take their next hit.  They do know it’s not good for them, but they make the choice, because it feels good, because they love it as much as they hate it.  And that analogy, in spite of never being directly brought up in these  episodes, continues to be driven home by the statements he reads.  A relationship with an addiction is complicated, and is often used as a substitute for something else initially.  How much of Jon’s embracing of the Eye was originally driven by his terror of the Web, deep seated and still child-like?  I think he fears Annabel Caine more than any other avatar, because she strikes at his worst fear: to be manipulated, to be pushed back to his childhood helplessness, to be lured and consumed against his will.  Isn’t it better, from his perspective, to be consumed by his will, by a power he knows and in many ways loves?

One thing I’ve noticed is that the people who are servants of powers embrace those powers as much as they fear them.  It’s not a new revelation to say that Jude Perry loves the Desolation, or that Jane Prentiss both loved and feared the Corruption.  But seeing that in Jon is harder, because he has something that they seemed to lack: moral qualms about what he’s doing.  He can acknowledge that the Beholding is as bad as any of the others, but how much of that is an intellectual acknowledgement?  How much of him revels in the Knowing in a way in the same way Jane reveled in the song of the hive?

But of course, in his isolation, he’s struggling to hold onto those intellectual moral qualms, when the hunger is so strong.  He can recognize the justifications for harm in other monsters, and even in himself, but his recognition isn’t the visceral pull that the hunger is.  And with a very rickety support system, it feels almost inevitable that he’ll tip over and feed again.  His one saving grace right now seems to be that his skill at analysis is just as powerful when turned against himself as it is when it’s turned outside.  He knows he’s slipping.  He knows that he no longer cares as much about investigation, about the victims of statements, as he does getting his next story, his next hit.  And no amount of admonishment is going to stop that craving.  

The other thing that seems to keep him anchored is Martin, but that’s an anchor growing more and more distant, closer to his intellectual understanding and further away from the deep-seated emotional attachment that might be enough to overcome the hunger.  Jon is continually concerned about Martin, wondering how he is to anyone who will listen.  I think of Gertrude being Agnes’ anchor, both holding one another to the world.  That was done to them, but I have to wonder if Martin and Jon have started anchoring one another simply through affinity.  Martin is trying to cut off all ties, but he keeps looking out for Jon.  He can’t help but try to keep Jon good and as human as possible.

The conversation between Georgie and Martin was interesting.  Georgie has chosen to help Melanie because Melanie isn’t as deep in it as Jon, and because Melanie is actively seeking therapy and help.  Georgie seems firmly in the camp that she’s willing to help, but will only help those actively helping themselves.  And I get that.  She is an outsider reaching in.  And she needs to protect herself as well; she’s right that tying oneself to Jon is probably going to get one killed.  She’s not obliged to die for him, or for anyone.  And from her perspective, he isn’t even reaching for the ropes being thrown to him.  

Contrast that with Martin’s perspective, which is that Jon needs help, and that waiting until he helps himself could be disastrous.  This is also right, but the problem is that if Jon is drowning, Martin isn’t really getting in the water any more than Georgie is.  He’s avoiding Jon, but is offended that Georgie is doing the same.  I can only hope she held up a mirror to his own decisions.  He’s choosing to protect himself every bit as much as he’s ‘falling on the grenade’ in order to try and stop the Extinction.  And trying to protect Jon from afar is as much a defense of himself as what Georgie is doing.  Both are reasonable.  Jon is self-destructing.  But Martin was also right that he needs help.  And for someone to help Jon, they almost certainly have to wade into all the danger that being around him entail.  Georgie’s decision not to be that person is frankly the healthier decision.  No one owes anyone drowning with them.  But that’s a decision each person has to make: how much are they willing to help?  How much of a life-line do they throw?  Georgie has helped, but also protects herself and respects Melanie for doing the same.  Daisy is helping a decent amount because she’s been there, and with a few bad days she could end up right back where Jon is.  It’s why people with addictions are often the ones to help others with addiction.  You sort of have to understand it from the inside.

Martin doesn’t know he understands it from the inside, because he doesn’t realize how much he’s falling to the Lonely.  Disappearing whenever personal confrontation occurs isn’t healthy.  He was an open wound of caring and emotion before, so it’s understandable that he’s swinging the pendulum to be less vulnerable, but he’s swung it too hard, and he’s drifting away.  And as much as he wants to help Jon, he’s not.  If he really wants to be Jon’s anchor, he has to be willing to open up all his emotional wounds again.  And he has to make that hard decision knowing how much it could cost him.  Or he has to let go entirely.  He’s in limbo, Jon anchoring him, but the tie between them is frayed.

‘Cul-de-Sac’ offered up a way to take hold of that tie and make it strong again.  The Lonely very nearly claimed the narrator as a victim, but in the moment he was almost totally lost to it, a call from his husband and the words “I love you” brought him back.  It gave him a way out, and as much as he believes he has to trust Martin’s decisions regarding his work with the Lonely, he also knows that the Lonely is seductive, that it has you do its work for it, that Martin is plagued with self-doubt and self-esteem issues, and that the Lonely is feeding on that.  Jon is trying to trust, but Jon also needs to reach out and help, just as much as Martin needs to do the same, if they both choose to take that route.

Basira has also apparently not made any real choice regarding whether or not she’ll help Jon.  She continues to be around Jon, but isn’t helping.  She’s very intelligent, but increasingly … black-and-white, which makes her blinkered.  And Elias was right: it also is making her predictable.  It’s like she’s trying to be more like Daisy as Daisy becomes more like Basira used to be.  But her taking a harsh tone with Jon and telling him ‘just don’t do it’ is likely to go exactly as well as everyone who’s ever told a drug addict to just stop.  Stopping is usually the hardest thing an addict ever has to do, and increasingly, Basira seems to want things to just happen.  If Daisy has learned patience, Basira has lost hers.  And that means that she also seems like she’s lost perspective.

And then there’s Melanie.  I really like that Melanie is sort of taking the middle-road of Georgie’s approach and Daisy’s.  She’s stuck there, and she’s still interacting with Jon.  Hell, her reactions to him pulling facts out of the ether are more like frustrated rolling of eyes than genuine anger at this point.  But she’s also unapologetic that helping the Eye—whether it be passively or actively—is wrong.  For her own good, she’s opting out.  She knows she could get sick.  She knows she could die.  But she is making a choice.  And like Georgie, I can respect that choice.  

Elias continues to be an evil delight.  Seriously, what a fantastic villain.  He gloats, he’s gleeful, but also urbane and intelligent.  The little moments of vulnerability sometimes feel like manipulation, so it’s hard to tell exactly how much he could be damaged.  He, of all people, seems to have taken Annabel’s advice to heart.  He is always either under- or overestimated.  And that just makes him fun.

Big Picture, A Gravedigger’s Envy, Love Bombing

Simoooon!!!  My favorite wacky wizard is just as much a delight as I had expected.  He’s a ton of fun.  He’s old and he’s full of joy, and he’s horrible.  He’s my favorite.  I also managed to predict that he was centuries old!  So pleased to find that out.  

It’s interesting to find out that so much of the rituals are bound up in the feeling and the fear.  All the ways the powers manifest or work are based on those feelings.  So rituals are made up because they ‘feel’ right, and it seems like they all fail because none of them genuinely generate the fear necessary to bring one power into ascendance over the others.  It seems that the balance is not only something most are dedicated to, but that it’s harder to upset on a global scale than people thought.  Robert Smirke, for example, seemed to think that the world was balanced on a knife’s edge, one second away from falling to a power.  And every fear took a cue from him and generated a ton of rituals.  But none of them have worked.  Because the truth definitely seems to be that none of them know what they’re doing.  They’re groping around for greater meaning, when it’s all really based on feelings and impressions.  That may make Simon one of the most effective avatars, as well as one of the most sanguine with the way the world works.  He’s not trying too hard to make the Vast win because he’s realized how difficult and potentially pointless that might be.

The end of ‘Big Picture’ has another confrontation between Basira and someone, this time Martin.  She’s taking the same tack with him as she did with Jon: telling him she doesn’t trust him, that he’s an idiot for working with Peter, etc.  Again, acting as Daisy might once have done, and again, I don’t see that she accomplished much.  She let Martin know that Jon’s heard of the Extinction, that he trusts Martin, and that’s about it.  Beyond that, they’re much in the same position.  Whatever her goals are in this situation, they’re either escaping me, or she has no real goals aside from being angry at everyone around her for not being as useful to her as she wants them to be.

Helen, on the other hand, is as helpful and delightful as Simon, while being just as dangerous and malicious.  She’s becoming more and more the Distortion, less an less Helen as she lets go of her guilt and embraces the feeding and the hunger.  She’s Jon’s ally, but is also unpredictable and is clearly playing her own game, learning the maze under the Archives, but refusing to let him in on what lies at its heart.  Their discussion about Jane Prentiss, about choice, throws more light on Jon’s choices.  

And the thing that sets him apart from the other monsters: his guilt, his burning humanity.  And his connection to others.  She looks at this as temporary.  Not the feelings, which may well persist, but the effect those feelings have had on his actions.  And I think that’s the hard truth that Basira has failed to impart as an outsider: Helen, as an insider to being a monster, gets that there is no hard line between the one-you-were and the one-you-are.  She gets that being a monster is as subjective as the powers or the rituals are.  It’s about feeling.  And Jon clings to his feelings and his connections.  And because of this he’s been finding excuses for his behavior.  But he still chooses it.  He knows that he shouldn’t want the drugs, but he keeps giving in to the temptation before the guilt spiral starts over again.  They all choose, and their choices may be guided by having no good alternatives, but the choice has always been his.  Of course he gets to keep what makes him fundamentally Jon, because Jon is the perfect Archivist.  He didn’t need personality traits grafted onto him.  They came ready made for the Eye.  How long had it waited for someone just like him?

But the thing about choice is that it’s yours.  Accepting that he makes the choices and that they are his alone means that he can control them.  He can take whatever control he can muster, even in the face of danger and death.  He can make the choice Melanie did, or a different choice.  He can choose to act, knowing that his actions are owned only by himself.  There’s power in that, every bit as much as there is responsibility.

And Daisy is the perfect example of that.  She doesn’t want to go back to the Hunt.  She’d die first, but she also will let that Hunt slip back in just a bit to protect Jon from Trevor and Julia.  Hearing her and Jon work through her impulses to listen to the blood, to find her way back to calm with his help, was one of the first indications that he really does get that choice.  And I find myself hoping that if he can help Daisy, he can learn to make those same choices, and that she’ll be there to guide him back when he needs it.

Bloody Mary, Cost of Living, Reflection

Jon going looking for knowledge the Eye didn’t want him to know was encouraging, and the revelation of Eric Delano’s page was a hell of a thing.  First, of course, there was James Wright (watching everyone through pictures and any eye available) before there was Elias, and Elias ‘changed’ a lot.  Another point for the Elias-is-Jonah theory, perhaps.

There was also the confrontation of Gertrude with a former assistant, how emotionally distant she was from him and the others, and how hungry she was for knowledge.  She wants explanations, not stories though.  More practical and less lyrical than Jon.  And less emotional.  Jon feels thing deeply and desperately.  It might be his salvation, as I’ve mentioned, but also it makes him just as human as her, despite his more outward monstrousness.

Eric was definitely in an abusive relationship with Mary, but after the betrayal and what Gertrude put him through, she seemed preferable.  And that’s thing, isn’t it?  Betrayal and under-handedness hurt worse than straightforward evil in the TMA world.  And so Eric accepted Mary and blinded himself to get out of the Institute, and wasn’t even too hurt that Mary turned right around and killed him for his sacrifice.  He found the way out because he had someone he loved: his son.  Much as tearing the bullet out of Melanie broke her free of the Slaughter, Eric tearing his eyes out let him free of the Beholding.

Could Jon help but entertain that fantasy?  Running away, tearing out the part of himself that is a monster once and for all?  No more hunger, no more temptation.  

But Martin’s right.  He can’t do it.  Because Jon is still choosing the Beholding, he still loves to Know.  He’s turning away from freedom actively.  And for Jon, running away with Martin was just this perfect potential ideal, but would never become reality without some really fundamental commitment that both of them lack right now.  As much as Jon is sunk in his love for what he knows, Martin is sunk in denial about how much he might actually mean to Jon.  He can reject Jon’s proposal easily, because he can’t believe Jon would ever really give up power just for a chance to run away with Martin.  

Martin is sunk deep, and Jon, who could reach him if he tried, isn’t trying.  Just as he isn’t tearing his eyes out.  He’ll be passive, and he’ll look at Martin like an ideal, but the real issue is that neither of them is reaching out to one another as a PERSON.  As more than the ideal that they’ve both seen one another as.  Being an anchor is all well and good, but eventually you need to dig in and get to know one another to have a true reason to stay human.  And they’re both lacking that right now.

Martin is drifting hard.  Realizing that he might only think he misses Jon’s voice, that he cares about Jon, that even his love is getting lost to the Lonely is very hard to hear.  Because Martin threw himself into all this to save Jon, and he’s not even horrified that he’s losing the original motivation for giving himself to the Lonely.  He seems to be going through the motions, letting everything happen, taking the easiest and least ‘noisy’ way out.  And that’s the draw of the Lonely right there, isn’t it?  There’s no real pain to lose yourself, because by the time you’re lost, you just don’t care.  Martin is being eaten by apathy, and that’s the hardest thing to shake.  He just doesn’t care enough to do it.

I really appreciate Jon finally confronting Basira about her hypocrisy.  The fact that she’s willing to give Daisy over to the Hunt to keep her alive, but is demanding that Jon starve himself to death if he has to is the height of hypocrisy.  It’s also deeply disrespectful of Daisy’s very difficult choice.  I appreciate that Jon stood up for Daisy’s stand, and I hope that it causes Basira to reflect about how she’s gone about her approach to Jon and Daisy.  

Because honestly, they’re both questioning their natures.  Daisy understands better, but Jon is actively exploring his nature, and the nature of monstrousness.  ‘Cost of Living’ is the perfect example of the entitled nature of a monster’s survival.  Each time she was confronted with their death, she found someone to exchange a life with.  And what was at first a one-off quickly became a continuous vampirism, one ‘unworthy’ life after another.  At each step she blamed the victim, explained her actions by the good she was doing.  Jon feels the same pull, but also a revulsion for her self-justification.  

And some people would rather do anything other than serve that sort of monstrousness.  Melanie gouged her own eyes out, leaving the Archives as definitively as possible.  I’ll miss the hell out of her character, but I am so glad that she found a way out.  I’m glad that, of all of them, she was the one who seized Eric’s solution.  Jon would never do it.  Basira won’t do it.  Martin won’t.  But Melanie still could.  She tried so hard to leave for so long that it’s fantastic she gets to go on her own terms.  And I’m so glad Jon respected her decision; that she left as bravely and calmly as possible for leaving by ambulance.  

Rotten Core, Panopticon

So Martin or someone else left his final tape to Jon.  Peter might have left it, Annabel could have done, so many others could have.  But the simple question is, what will Jon do with the information that Martin is walking off to oblivion?

Dekker’s final statement was something I wasn’t expecting.  It makes sense with the Extinction storyline gearing up, but it’s still strange to hear the end of this remarkable and remarkably eventful life.  And to go out in such a horrific way is tragic.  He searched for the Extinction so long, only to get taken down by the Corruption.  Just accidentally stumbled on John Amhurst, and though it’s good to know that Dekker properly contained Amhurst, it leaves his work unfinished.  But then, I think the work of people like Dekker or Gertrude always have unfinished business when they’re finally killed.  

Jon is not nearly so sanguine with death.  Hearing that the Extinction may be slow or strange or not real at all, he can’t not follow Martin down into the tunnels.  He tried to get a second opinion from Melanie, who is with Georgie—in all senses of the word—but she’s out.  He tried to go to Helen, who is not interested in helping because it entertains her more if he finds out what’s in the tunnels on his own.  She may think he’d just go home and give into his hunger, but the one thing that anchors him is in those tunnels.  So Jon is definitely going in.

At least he waited for Daisy and Basira, as much as it must have killed him not to go charging in.  And he’s lucky he did.  Peter Lukas set the Not-Them loose again, and Trevor and Julia are also back to finish Jon off.  And of course, Elias has also made a jail break to be there for the final show of whatever it was that Peter planned.

And it directly affects him, of course, because we finally got that confirmation: Elias Bouchard and Jonah Magnus are one in the same.  Jonah left his body behind in the Panopticon that lies at the heart of the labyrinth, permanently jacked into the All-Seeing Eye.  That was the Watcher’s Crown, attempted first as himself, and again in other bodies.  Peter wants to overthrow Elias, to replace him with a willing puppet in Martin.  The temptation of having that sort of power must have been undeniable.  

But it all still hinged on Martin choosing to serve the Lonely, to give himself freely to the Panipticon and to Peter’s power.  And Martin has been playing this game well.  Telling Peter what he wants to hear, all to see what his end-game was.  Listening to Peter and Elias duke it out verbally over him, Martin clearly knew that this was never about the Extinction.  This was just a stupid bet about whether or not Peter could steal Martin away.

So Martin refuses.  As much as he wanted to kill Jonah, he refused the game (but in so doing handed the victory to Jonah).   

The reason he knew that Peter wasn’t being straight with him about the Extinction was more than a little heart-breaking, but very in keeping with why he couldn’t believe Jon would really run away with him: Martin cannot believe that he’s important enough to be made a priority, let alone to be made a hero.  And so, even though Elias won the round, Peter had one more game to play: he threw Martin into the Lonely, and both he and Elias waited for Jon to arrive.  Because consuming the Archivist would certainly wrench the ultimate victory from Elias’ hands.  

But Elias is far too calm, and far too pleased with this turn for it not to be just as much set up in his favor as Peter’s.  He might have verbally warned Jon against going into the Lonely, but he was all too eager to show him the way.  This is just more of his game, and I’ll be interested to see how it plays out.

The Last

Which leads us to the penultimate episode of the season, Jon plunging into the Lonely after Martin.  The end-game of whatever bet or game Peter and Elias have been playing with one another turns out to have hinged on first Martin giving into the Lonely, and then Jon following him down.  Elias’ biggest pawn is on the line, and Peter has put himself on the line, letting something like the Archivist into his world.  

At first, Peter clearly has the home advantage over Jon.  He confronts Jon with the fact that he and Martin have been chasing the ideal of one another for so long, but they don’t really know one another.  But Jon is pissed, and Jon is hungry, and when faced with dying for Martin, he didn’t even hesitate.   Peter doesn’t understand love, or any connection.  And so he can’t understand how deeply tied Jon and Martin are to one another.  Hell, I don’t know if they quite understand it, except that they’d walk through hell to find one another.

So instead of giving in, Jon fakes his own drift into the Lonely to draw Peter in close, and then goes after him hardHearing Peter’s story was interesting, but not particularly sympathetic.  He was created to be a Lukas, certainly, but he also relished it and wallowed in the upper-class life he was given.  He wallowed in his loneliness, and hated everyone around him.  Sure, his family messed him up, but he embraced it while other siblings didn’t.  

So hearing that Gertrude took down his ritual with a call to a newspaper?  Amazing.  Wonderful.  Perhaps my favorite takedown of hers ever.  I laughed out loud at Peter Lukas drowning in community outreach.

And hearing Jon tear him apart?  Also amazing.  Potentially terrible, because once you open that door, it’s hard to close it, and Jon’s “Stubborn fool” is as close to truly being lost to the monster as we’ve heard Jon on tape.  But if Jon had to feed, tearing Peter apart wasn’t a bad way to do it.  But of course, that means Jon doesn’t get an answer as to how Elias gets him.  

But Jon does get Martin.  And that reunion?  The “I see you”?  So beautiful.  They’ve built to that moment for so long that the quiet conversation, walking out of the Lonely hand-in-hand and so gentle, was utter perfection.

Which is why having this be the second-to-last episode of the season is so ominous.

The Eye Opens

Here we come to the end, and we begin with domesticity and a continuation of the gentle quietness started last episode.  It seems, from the date of the statement, that Martin and Jon did get at least some time together before this episode to settle in and be together, and it shows.  There’s a comfort and a familiarity between them I’ve never heard.  Whatever time they’ve spent getting to know one another, they clearly fit together exactly as well as they’d hoped.

They may be on the run, uncertain if Trevor or Julia or the Not-Them are still alive, but it has an almost honeymoon feel to it.  They’re in contact with Basira, but seem distant from all that, here in their coccoon in the woods with its crackling fire and poetic cows.

And it’s really lovely.  Hearing them together, quiet and gentle and happy, was wrenching if only because it came so early in the episode.  And then it hits.  Jonah, smuggled in as a disguised statement, slipping in and taking over Jon’s body and forcing him to read against his will.  You can hear Jon struggling not to read at first, perhaps knowing what was coming, but Jonah’s will was too strong.  He’s too good at control to let Jon slip his noose here at the end.

And the end, as it turns out, is the end of the world.  It’s discarding the Watcher’s Crown as a botched job, and instead embracing a new ritual: the Magnus Archives.  The transformation of Jonathan Sims not into the Archivist, but into the Archive.  

And Jonah will become king of the ashes of a ruined world.

Jonah, Rayner, Lukas, and likely Fairchild all came together to become not only the first to realize that the world was almost guaranteed to end, but to figure out how to handle it.  Only Smirke kept to his guns and refused to embrace the end.  He tried to use balance to prevent it, to keep it from ever tipping over, but one by one the others embraced one power and decided that if the world was going to end, then it should end to their benefit.

Jonah tried the Watcher’s Crown, sitting in the Panopticon, but failed except to become a mind freed of his body.  He built the Institute to help himself with the race, trying the Watcher’s Crown again and again, each new body dying and giving rise to another.

And then he realized that the Watcher’s Crown was a flawed ritual from the off.  All the rituals were flawed.  All the rituals were doomed to failure, because every ritual only involved a single fear.  And so there wasn’t enough fear to keep it going.  Every one, even the ones not stopped, failed under its own weight.  

The true ritual was the Archive itself.  Turning a person into an Archive, and through him, with every other power burned into him, tearing open reality.  Because the true ritual HAD to have all the fears involved, because all fears are one fear, each blending into each, each reliant on another.  And so all powers had to come through at the same time, with the Eye watching over all.  

And Jon has been marked by every single fear, chosen by Magnus after he survived Mr. Spider.  Stabbed by Michael, burned by Jude, thrown into freefall by Mike Crewe, cut by the Slaughter when he tried to save Melanie, went into the Buried bodily to rescue Daisy … more and more and more until he went into the Lonely to save Martin and took the final step.  He consumed stories, consumed lives.  He embraced his own power in destroying Peter.  He chose to be the Archive at every turn, built himself as a record, wove a tapestry of every fear to create something greater than each alone.  

And so Magnus used his Archive.  He used Jon’s body and his power, and then left Jonathan Sims, both tied to and gutted by the world he created, behind as the world cracked open.  We finish the season with Jon and Martin, clutched together in their cabin, Jon knowing that the whole world has been consumed by the powers and by his own embrace of the Archive.  

“Look at the sky, Martin.  Look at the sky!  It’s looking back.”  

The Future

And so we head toward the final season of ‘The Magnus Archives’.  Daisy and Basira may both be alive, or Basira isn’t sharing the fact that she’s already killed Daisy as she promised.  Melanie and Georgie got out, but there’s not a lot of getting out of an apocalyptic world.

And the world is apocalyptic.  Jonah intends to sit the throne of this world, but I’ll be interested to hear if things go to his plan, of if the powers are so much larger than him that he is swept aside as every other living being will be.  This seems like the sort of plan born of hubris, from a man so desperate not to die that he’ll burn the whole world to survive it.  And I just don’t see fully manifested fears giving much of a shit about Jonah Magnus.

And that leaves Jon and Martin.  Jon is having a well-deserved breakdown over his part in this, but I don’t think he’ll get to do so for long.  If the Archive was needed to rip the world open, it may be the only way to repair it.  Whether that requires Jon to die, or Jon to lose every bit of Archivist in himself to do it, or something else entirely remains to be seen.  But he at least has Martin this time, and I genuinely hope that whatever path they walk in the final season, they walk it together.  That they fall together or rise together.  One or the other being alone at the end would be the worst possible outcome for them at this point.  They anchored one another in the Lonely, and they might well be the thing that pulls one another through to saving the world.  Going down together might be a sort of bittersweet happy ending for an Archive and the man that keeps him human.   What will the world be like now that all the powers are here?  Would people like Simon and the other avatar glory in this new world, or does a complete manifestation of all the powers make moot all the appeal of their gods?  I’m interested to find out who might be interested in a return to a normal world, and who love their new reality.  

40 more episodes until the end.  It’s been a hell of a binge, and honestly?  I’m very interested to see how thing play out come April.

[caffeinatedfantasy]

The Seal pt 2: Asmodeus being suspicious

[More snippets regarding Solomon. pt 1 // ??]

Asmodeus knew. He had to. The fucker was smiling at me slyly while talking about his plans for the day. Which seemed to include a whole lot of Solomon. And his eyes drifted over to me every time he started talking about the other human. I was trying to keep myself from shifting in place, pointedly pretending to be oblivious to the conversation, except.

“Chris!” I couldn’t ignore him, so I took a bite of my food, leaving the spoon in my mouth, and hummed in response, looking over. 

Why did Asmo have to have a smile like that? Head perched on his hand, leaning towards me, as effortless as if he wasn’t up to something. 

“Why don’t you join me shopping after class! I’m sure you need some more cute clothes.” It was tempting. This whole being kidnapped thing had meant I had next to none of my things and I desperately needed a refresh on my wardrobe, and Asmo had such good taste and I knew he was gonna play eye candy the whole time and-- “I already convinced Solomon to come, so you have to!”

Oh no. Does that mean that Solomon can control me? Is that why he’s saying I have to? Gods, that would explain how they were able to summon me down here. Why the fuck did I have to get that tattoo? 

“Maybe find you some cute underwear and--” Oh and then they’d definitely see it and everything confirmed and then what?

I don’t know what my expression was, but it only made him smile wider. And. Luckily. LUCKILY. Someone else noticed the conversation.

“Hey! Hands off! Chris isn’t going with you so you can be pervy!” Thank God for Mammon’s weird protectiveness. I pulled the spoon out to speak as I was grabbed and pulled towards the Avatar of Greed.

“Uh. Mammon’s right. I...” Desperately needed an excuse. “Promised him I’d help him study.”

Asmo pouted at that one. God, that was a terrible lie and we both knew it, but I pointedly looked away and decided I needed to get out of there. I picked up my phone and clicked on the display to see the time. Oh good. It’s late enough. I barely glanced at my plate before pushing it towards Beel [he was sure to still be hungry] and standing, grabbing my bag from where it was beside me. 

“Anyway, I gotta go, I told Luke that I’d see him before class so I’ll see you later bye!” The words tumbled out in a rush as I practically fled the dining room, my cheeks burning. At least that part wasn’t a lie.

The rest of the day, though, I seemed to run into Asmo and Solomon between every class. Was this normal or was I just being paranoid? It was impossible to tell, and I used Mammon as an excuse every. Fucking. Time. Dragging him along with me. 

I did manage to avoid getting taken shopping. Or any real conversations between the two smiling assholes. 

But I didn’t even remember the promise I’d accidentally made until later that night when Mammon was in my room and had pulled out books for homework and plopped them onto the table between us, loudly grousing how he doesn’t understand why he even has to do the homework and he doesn’t need a human’s help, thank you very much, but if I wanted to just do it for him, the Great Mammon, while he tried to figure out a new way to earn some grimm, than he supposed that would be alright.

I’d have to figure out something long term though. If Asmo knew about the tattoo and was trying to help Solomon... What? What was he trying to do? It’s not like he could really do anything without getting in trouble, right? Besides, it wasn’t as if I had money or power, so even if he could command me to do stuff, what would be the purpose? 

Wait. Would he get control of my pacts? I’d made one with Mammon already. And I was trying to make one with Levi [which apparently Solomon hadn’t been able to do], so could he use the seal to use their pacts through me?  

That would be clever. Divide and conquer sort of thing. He’s super into making pacts and as a new, novel element, I could probably make pacts with some demons he couldn’t. Especially if the demons knew I can’t really use magic, they’d let their guard down and then Solomon could--

“I was trying to help you!” Asmodeus’s voice had my head snapping up to his gorgeous face, set in a very pretty pout, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Wh-what?” I sputtered out, blinking hard as I stared at him. He must’ve literally just gotten back because he still had the bags in his arms. He huffed. 

“Hooking you up with Solomon!” Arms crossed over his chest, he plopped down next to me, bags set next to us. My confusion must have shown on my face. [I’d never had a good poker face.] “I can tell you want to fuck him! Avatar of Lust, you know! I know I’d be your first choice since I mean, I’m gorgeous, but when you said you didn’t want to get involved with any demons while down here, with how you’ve been getting all excited and jumpy around Solomon and skittering off- it clicked! And I was trying--”

“Wait.” He pursed his lips, not entirely happy with being interrupted but he also looked prepared for me to thank him. “You think I wanna fuck Solomon?” 

“Well don’t you?” 

He was staring at me like I’d asked him if the sky was blue. And it hit me that I couldn’t argue the question. If it weren’t for the fear that came from the tattoo, I’d be all over him. I’d liked him on meeting him. But I hadn’t given it much thought in all of my panic. 

For Asmo to pick up on that little seedling of desire and base my actions off of that... 

Oh. Oh no. 

Oh I can see how he’d think that. 

And I could feel the heat in my face flare up so strongly that my eyes hurt and I looked away. Of course he hadn’t been able to tell that I’d been freaking out about the tattoo. Everything about how he’d been acting screamed him trying to set us up. And I couldn’t argue that those actions were unrelated because that would mean having to explain it and he’d probably go back to flirting his heart out because if he didn’t think I had a crush he’d go back to thinking my whole trying to avoid getting involved was silly. 

I just groaned and covered my face with my hands. 

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” 

“Of course I did!” 

Well fuck. This just got more complicated.

[football-in-tuxedos]

Battle Report: Daughters of Khaine vs. Clan Pestilens

I’ve had this finished for a while, but I just kept failing to finish the pre and post battle fluff and now that I finally have, I figured I should post it:

Artemis sat with her feet up on the table, staring out the window. The Spellweaver, D’ana was still talking, about their pride as fellow Aelves, their history of battling alongside each other for the realm of Life against the minions of Nurgle. Artemis’ eyes drifted over to Ai’sha, disguised as a normal Aelf, standing to the side, her Bloodwrack Spear leaning against her shoulder. As she watched, Ai’sha glanced over at an Eternal Guard who had been staring at her and grinned, letting her tongue, her real snake tongue, slip out and the Eternal Guard started and looked away. Artemis had to conclude this before things got odd.

She put her feet on the floor and sat forward, cutting D’ana off. “We will help you kill the ratmen sweetling,” she hissed.

The Wanderer was clearly surprised, but retained her composure. “Oh. Th-thank you Artemis. But…” her eyes narrowed. “What do you want in return?”

“Nothing material,” said Artemis, smiling sweetly. “I want to make our alliance official, I want us to stop merely being two groups of Aelves scrabbling for a plot of land in Ghyran. I want us to be…” she smiled wider, her teeth showing “partners.”

D’ana stared at the Hag Queen for a moment, as if trying to discern malice simply from a look. After a long painful moment, she nodded. “Agreed.”

A half hour later, battle plans were drawn up and the Wanderers had left, with promises to return after the battle. The Daughters of Khaine would come down their mountain and intercept the Skaven flank as it swung towards the western part of the woods where the Wanderer village was hidden. The Skaven had yet to even consider attacking the Khelt Nar Temple embedded in the mountain and certainly didn’t expect them to come to help.

Ai’sha slithered alongside her as they headed down the steps, her real form emerging from beneath the illusion. As they broke off to separate directions, she said “Make sure you bring some Blood Stalkers, I want to be ready to leave within 2 hours.”

Ai’sha nodded. “And where will you be?” she hissed.

Artemis headed down the steps towards her personal Cauldron of Blood, staring down at the massive Avatar atop the chariot. “I think our first battle of our official alliance requires some...panache.”

Armies:

Daughters of Khaine:

Temple: Draichi Ganeth

Hag Queen on Cauldron of Blood

General

Terrifying Beauty, Crone Blade, Catechism of Murder

Bloodwrack Medusae

Mindrazor

5 Blood Sisters

5 Doomfire Warlocks

Doomfire Crossbows, The Withering

5 Khinerai Heartrenders

10 Sisters of Slaughter

Barbed Whips and Bladed Bucklers

10 Witch Aelves

Pair of Sacrificial Knives

Avatar of Khaine

Clan Pestilens

Plague Furnace

General

Master of Rot and Ruin, Vexler’s Shroud

Plague Furnace

40 Plague Monks

Foetid Blades

Plague Scroll, Icon of Pestilence, Doom Gong

40 Plague Monks

Foetid Blades

Plague Scroll, Icon of Pestilence, Doom Gong

10 Plague Censer Bearers

10 Plague Censer Bearers

10 Plague Censer Bearers

Set Up:

The place where the Daughters of Khaine had chosen to fight the Skaven was mostly bare, a large hill covering the entire right flank, while another pair of smaller hills were on each side of the battlefield, while a small swamp covered the center of the field.

The Skaven, fully aware of the Daughters of Khaine’s aggressive tendencies, deployed their army to check their assaults. The two Plague Furnaces were surrounded by Plague Monks and in front of them was one of the Plague Censer Bearers, spread out to keep the Daughters from charging straight in. The remaining two units of Plague Censer Bearers were out on each flank, ready to punish any direct assaults.

The Daughters of Khaine were no fools however, deploying the massive Cauldron of Blood on the right of the lake surrounded by the Witch Aelves on the right and the Sisters of Slaughter on the left. On the left side of the lake the Avatar of Khaine stood, motionless and radiating menace. Farther to the left flank the Doomfire Warlock rode into place behind the hill, while the Blood Stalkers set up atop the hill on the right, accompanied by the Medusa. The Heartrenders were circling overhead, waiting for the perfect moment to descend.

The Daughters of Khaine got the first turn.

Turn 1:

Daughters of Khaine

With precious little to do with their first turn, the Daughters of Khaine simply advanced toward the Skaven line, the Hag Queen atop the Cauldron praying to awaken the Avatar of Khaine, all the units taking care to stay far enough away to keep out of the Skaven’s charge range. With no easy place to land, the Heartrenders remained high in the sky, waiting for their moment to strike.

On the far right, the Blood Stalkers raised their bows and fired, raining arrows down on the Plague Censer Bearers, killing three of them. The Skaven, who hadn’t expected to be under attack so soon, panicked and two of them fled the field before the Plague Priest atop the nearby Furnace could restore order.

Clan Pestilens

With the Aelves too far away to reach, the Skaven advanced towards the Daughters of Khaine lines, praying for their god’s blessing in case the Daughters of Khaine maintained the initiative and got a chance to attack them. On the far right, the damaged unit of Plague Censer Bearers swarmed in towards the center, not wanting to be caught out of position and away from the rest of their fellows. The Plague Censer Bearers in the center spread out to keep the Sisters of Slaughter from charging the Plague Monks behind her. But, given how far away the Aelves, were, there was nothing else the Skaven could do.

Turn 2:

Daughters of Khaine

The Aelves maintained their initiative and surged forward toward the Skaven lines. On the left, the Doomfire Warlocks summoned the spell that gave them their name and hurled the fire at the Plague Censer Bearers on the flank, 4 of them dying in a blast of flames. While the Medusa failed to cast a spell to protect the Sisters of Slaughter and the Hag Queen’s prayer to awaken the Avatar of Khaine was for naught, the nearby Witch Aelves drank from her Witchbrew and she prayed for the Sisters of Slaughter to feel the frenzy of Khaine, while using the sight of her praying atop the massive cauldron as an inspiring presence for them.

As the army circled toward the Skaven lines, the Blood Stalkers and the Doomfire Warlocks fired their ranged weapons at the Censer Bearers screening the Plague Monk lines, but firing through the haze of of the massive Plague Furnaces meant their attacks were less accurate, and only 2 Plague Censer Bearers fell. On the right, the Medusa locked eyes with a single Plague Censer Bearer and watched with a grin as he collapsed in convulsions.

With little left to accomplish at range, the entire Daughters of Khaine force charged forward, blades and whips flashing. The Witch Aelves charged into the remnants of the Plague Censer Bearers on the far right, while the Cauldron of Blood slammed hard into the Plague Monks on the right. In the center, the Sisters of Slaughter charged into the surviving Plague Censer Bearers while the Doomfire Warlocks drew their blades and ran into the Censer Bearers on the left.

The resulting melee was swift and brutal. The Sisters of Slaughter tore into the Plague Censer Bearers, whips and bladed shields lashing out amidst the chaos of the ratmen lines and before any of them could form up to put up a unified resistance, the Aelves had ripped them to pieces. On the right the Witch Aleves hacked their way through the handful of surviving Plague Censer Bearers, but were caught off guard when the Plague Monks the Cauldron had charged swarmed towards them, stabbing and hacking away at two of the Aelves before they could back out of their reach.

The rest of the Plague Monks from that unit tried to mob over the Cauldron of Blood, hoping to smash the chariot to ribbons or at least cover it with the acid from their blood until it collapsed. Any small gains the Skaven made crawling up the steps of the Cauldron were instantly undone when the Hag Queen and her attendants strode down the steps, hacking away at the ratmen as they went. When they were done, a half dozen of the Skaven’s bodies were scattered around the chariot and almost all the damage they’d done had been healed by the Queen’s Crone Blade.

On the left the Ratmen were still trying to maintain their battle lines, the Plague Censer Bearers managing to kill Warlock and injure another, but two more of the Skaven were still hacked to ribbons by the charging cavalry. Having lost six of their number to the Warlocks already, two more of them tried to bolt, but were trampled to death between their fellow ratmen and Warlocks.

Clan Pestilens

With the Daughters of Khaine already in their lines the Skaven merely moved to defend themselves. Both of the Priests atop their Furnaces raised their hands in prayer, a deep green mist settling on both the Plague Monk units. None of the Aelves were close enough for the Furnace’ fumes to affect them so the Skaven resolved to fix that, swarming forward.

The Plague Furnace on the right smashed into its chariot counterpart on the right, while the Plague Furnace on the left crashed into the Sisters of Slaughter, while the Plague Monks on the left were so filled with inspiration that they managed to not only swarm over the Sisters of Slaughter, but moved swiftly past them towards the still frozen Avatar of Khaine, knowing that if they didn’t destroy it before it awoke, it would annihilate them.

On the right the Furnace crashed hard into the Cauldron of Blood, swinging its censer at the massive chariot, but missed it entirely, only managing to crush a single Witch Aelf. The Plague Priest tried to cause more damage to it, but the chariot’s sturdy construction (and the fear that dug into the Skaven’s mind looking at the Hag Queen) meant that the damage it caused was negligible, and the Plague Monks swarming over the stairs caused little more damage. They faired better against the Witch Aelves however, killing 3 of them.

In retaliation, the Witch Aelves killed 7 of the Plague Monks, and the riders atop the Cauldron of Blood hacked apart 4 more, ignoring the Furnace in favor of hacking apart the swarms of ratmen climbing over their stairs.

On the left, the Sisters of Slaughter were overwhelmed by the combined attacks of the furnace and the massive horde of Plague Monks, and while they tried their hardest to fight them off, killing five Plague Monks with their shields and whips, soon only the Handmaiden was left. The Plague Monks also tried to bring down the silent, still Avatar, but only managed to carve a handful of gashes in its iron hide.

On the far left, before the Skaven could even prepare their weapons to strike back, the Doomfire Warlocks had hacked the Ratmen to ribbons, leaving the Skaven with only the Furnaces and the two large units of Plague Monks.

The Daughters of Khaine got initiative again.

Turn 3:

Daughters of Khaine:

On the right the Medusa reached out and hurled a bolt of arcane energy at the nearby Plague Furnace, burning it badly and leaving the Plague Priest atop it reeling. Atop the Cauldron of Blood, the Hag Queen prayed to try and reach out to burn the Plague Furnace with a touch but the prayer failed, so instead she simply prayed for the frenzy of Khaine to descend on the nearby Witch Aelves as they drank from her Hagbrew. On the far left the Doomfire Warlocks, freed from their melee with the Plague Censer Bearers, cast a spell to wither the Plague Furnace on the left.

But all of this was irrelevant to the fact that the Skaven’s worst fears about the monstrous statues were realized and the Avatars of Khaine atop the Cauldron and on foot awoke, roaring with the fury of the murder god as the ratmen cowered away from them. In the far left corner, as the Doomfire Warlocks circled towards the Plague Monks, there was a shriek from the sky and the Heartrenders finally descended, javelins at the ready.

With both Avatars awake, the Skaven were trying to swarm over them, drag them down before they could do much damage, but the Avatars responded by showering the respective groups of Plague Monks with a torrent of burning blood, driving the Skaven back and slaying several of them. On the right, the Blood Stalkers fired their bows at the nearby Plague Furnace, burning several deep holes in it, while a handful of the Plague Monks surrounding it collapsed on the ground in convulsions as they accidentally locked eyes with the Medusa. On the left, two Plague Monks were killed by the Doomfire Warlock’s crossbows. The Heartrenders hurled their javelins at the Plague Furnace but all the Javelins that struck home ricocheted off the Furnace’s armor.

On the right, even as the Doomfire Warlocks and Medusa charged into combat, the Plague Furnace prepared to swing its massive censer back into the Daughters of Khaine lines. But, before the lead Priest could order it to strike, the Avatar of Khaine atop the Cauldron of Blood leapt from its chariot to land on the Furnace, impaling the Plague Priest with a single thrust of its blade before smashing the furnace, and the priests riding atop it, to pieces. The Plague Monks surrounded it were so shocked they barely registered that the Hag Queen and her attendants were in their lines, butchering five of them were they stood.

Before they could recover, the Medusa swept into their lines, her spear darting back and forth, killing six of the ratmen before they could react. In retaliation the skaven swarmed over the Daughters of Khaine, killing three more of the Witch Aelves and injuring the Medusa, but failing to cause any real damage to the Cauldron of Blood.

On the left, the Plague Monks decided the time was ripe to take their revenge and swarmed over the Avatar of Khaine, but the Cauldron of Blood was rejuvenated from the ratmen it had slaughtered and its Bloodshield protected it from almost all of the damage. The rest of the Plague Monks finished off one of the Doomfire Warlocks, and while the single surviving Sister of Slaughter put up a valiant defense, killing three Skaven with her shield, she was overwhelmed by the horde of Plague Monks. The remaining Plague Furnace swung its massive censer around, killing the remaining Doomfire Warlocks, even as the Avatar of Khaine butchered his way through six Plague Monks.

Clan Pestilens:

With only a single Plague Furnace and a rapidly shrinking number of Plague Monks, the Skaven desperately tried to regain their lost initiative, with the Plague Furnace smashing into the Avatar of Khaine at top speed. But, despite the speed of its impact, the Avatar’s steel body held firm and no damage was done to it.

On the right, the Plague Monks were determined to finally finish off their opponents, causing another painful injury to the Medusa and finally managing to overwhelm the remaining Witch Aelves with weight of numbers. But the Aelven retaliation, between the Cauldron, the Avatar and the Medusa, was brutal, killing over a dozen of the small number of surviving Plague Monks.

On the right, the Plague Furnace smashed its censer down into the Avatar, sending the statue reeling, but even with the Plague Monks assistance, they were unable to bring the totem down. Roaring with fury, the Avatar hacked its massive blade into the Furnace, driving it backwards, but not quite destroying it.

The Skaven got the initiative.

Turn 4:

Clan Pestilens:

The Plague Furnace riders struck the Censer, trying to drown the Avatar in noxious fumes, but as the massive statue didn’t breathe, it was entirely ineffective, so all they could do was swarm him, trying to drown him in bodies. But even as the Plague Monks swarmed over him, trying to hack their blades through his metal form, the Avatar strode through the swarming rats and smashed the Plague Furnace apart, burying the Priests in the rubble.

On the right, abandoned by their leader, the few surviving Plague Monks tried their best to crawl up the Cauldron of Blood’s steps, but their attempts were repelled by the Cauldron’s attendants and between them, the Avatar and the Medusa, the surviving Plague Monks on the right were butchered.

Daughters of Khaine:

With only the surviving Plague Monks on the left surviving, their fate was sealed. Before they could even think of turning and running, they were surrounded on all sides by the Aelves and didn’t even have a chance to retaliate before they were buried under the arrows, javelins and blades of the Daughters of Khaine. The Skaven had been slaughtered, to a rat.

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

Artemis stepped down off the steps of her chariot, watching as the Heartrenders wandered amongst the Plague Monks, driving their javelins into any Skaven that was still twitching. Meanwhile Al’sha and her Melusai were slithering around, looking for any injured Aelves. Some temples, particularly the Kraith, felt that any who fell in battle didn’t deserve to be saved, but Artemis’ temple was too small and the Realm of Ghyran too hotly contested for her to hold such ideas. She needed every warrior she could get.

The Avatar of Khaine that had been brought separate from a Cauldron of Blood was still stalking across the field, hacking at the slain bodies of the Skaven, still searching for enemies to slay. A slow grin crossed her face and she drove her blade down into a crawling Plague Monk as she turned to look at the Khinerai Shryke. “You know,” she said, pulling her blade back up and out. “The main force of Skaven is a little ways from here, battling the Wanderers and not expecting an attack from their flank,” she said and in a moment the Shryke was grinning too.

“Al’sha,” she said as she climbed back up the steps of the Cauldron of Blood. “You and your Melusai find any of our injured and get them back up the mountain. We have some more Skaven to kill!”

Days later, Artemis was back in her chambers, sipping wine on her balcony and staring down at her small but growing temple city. She could see the foothills of the Nevergreen Peaks below her. The Wanderers had arrived a few hours earlier, the treaties were signed and they were leaving in the morning. Artemis and the other Daughters of Khaine had sacrificed the Skaven captives and poured their blood into the Cauldrons the day before in a riot of ritual activity.

As she stared down at the celebrating Aelves, she heard the curtain rustle behind her and she smiled. She had been expecting this visit. “No need to skulk in the shadows D’ana,” she said. “Why don’t you come join me?”

The Wanderer stepped forward onto the balcony, her arms crossed in annoyance. “I am perfectly capable of deciding where to stand.”

“Of course you are. Some wine?” D’ana didn’t react. “Well then, what can I do for you?”

D’ana glared up at the taller woman. “I want to know why you asked for an alliance. You could have asked for almost anything, money, building materials, food, the blood of our first born, and you ask for an alliance. Why?”

Artemis smiled, but behind that smile, a decade of grievances was bubbling up. She put down her glass, for fear of shattering it. “Tell me, when those Daemons, servants of She Who Thirsts, came across the plain to attack Hammerhal Ghyra, who came to your aid?”

D’ana cocked her head, confused. “You did.”

“And when those ice bound Ogors tried to smash into your camps, who stood shoulder to shoulder with you?” Her hand gripped the balcony tightly, her hands remembering the feeling of the cold that rode with the Ogors.

“You, and your Aelves.” D’ana still didn’t understand her point.

“And when your relationship with Hammerhal Aqush began to sour, who did you ask to sit next to you at the negotiating table so my presence could be an implied threat?”

D’ana shook her head. “Your presence wasn’t a threat, those negotiations concerned you-”

“Don’t lie to me sweetling,” hissed Artemis through clenched teeth.

D’ana stared at her for a moment and then capitulated. “You. I asked you to sit next to me.”

Artemis inhaled and examined her fingernails. “And yet, every time we meet, you look at me with disdain, or worse pity. You act like I’m some thing you found in the wilderness, temporarily useful but disgusting. I wonder, if the Skaven had decided to crawl up the slopes to besiege this temple, would you have even considered coming to our aid?” Artemis turned back to look at D’ana, before her silence could answer for her. “We are Aelves. You, me, the Sorceresses in Azyrheim, Malerion’s creatures, Tyrion’s angels, even those eyeless freaks from the seas. We are all one people, one race, and we have enough enemies that we shouldn’t be at each other’s throats.”

D’ana took a step back, the force of Artemis’ speech taking her by surprise. Artemis, for her part, seemed surprised by her own intensity and exhaled hard. “And now, we are allies. Friends. Partners.” She swept her hand and bowed. “Perhaps one day we can extend the same hand of friendship to the others of our race, or at least Allerielle and her tree creatures.”

D’ana, her answer gotten stared out at the city and began to walk towards the door. As she reached the curtains she stopped, her respect for Artemis compelling her to speak. “Morathi...Morath is using you, you must know that?” She turned back to look at the dark skinned Aelf. “She doesn’t speak for Khaine, Khaine is gone and she’s just using you and all your sisters to gain power.”

Artemis sat down, staring back out at the balcony and waving her hand to dismissing the Blood Sisters who were gathering to punish the Spellweaver for her words. “Even if you’re right, I don’t care. Isha, the goddess of life, perished in the world that was and now a new goddess of life is out there, battling the Maggotkin right now.” She turned back to look at D’ana. “So you should be careful what you say. Perhaps, in a few years, we shall have a new goddess of murder.”

As the Spellweaver disappeared from her chambers, unaware of how much danger she’d been in before Artemis had dismissed them, Artemis stared out at the mountains, her mind on the city on the far side of them and the Sylvaneth who were out in the deep woods beyond it. She shook her head and took a sip of her wind to clear her mind. The first steps towards her grand Aelven alliance had been taken and she needed to take a moment to enjoy it.