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nothingunrealistic · 4 years ago

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Hello I am the “what is billions about” anon pls share ur thoughts as well I am listening

hello!! i have many thoughts and milo covered quite a few of them in their answer (which i’m sure you checked out already but maybe someone Else reading this hasn’t yet, who’s to say) so i’m basically gonna supplement that post / give a slightly more structured Season By Season breakdown of What Is Billions, Anyway. spoilers, naturally.

first, an Overall Statement, on which i’m going to quote one of the billions showrunners, brian koppelman (here he’s also speaking for the other billions showrunner / his creative partner, david levien), on what he hopes people take away from the show:

I think that people love to watch hyper-intelligent, hyper-verbal people who are charismatic and charming, and who really love what they do, and who love being in this contest and this game.

For us, what we’re interested in, is why America is willing to substitute verbal acuity, charm, power and wealth for true qualities of character, like kindness and empathy? We hope that by watching the show and getting off on it when these characters do really bad things, it makes us all wonder why we’re rooting for them sometimes.

these characters are forever gunning to speak in the most obscure references and quickest witticisms of anyone in the room, to give the most inspirational off-the-cuff monologues, to indulge in the best meals and the most expensive luxuries — and constantly saying and doing horrible things to one another and to total strangers, because they can. so that’s a major Theme to keep in mind. (we talk about brian and david quite a bit. authorly intentions are interesting.)

season one sets up The World Of Billions and the tangled relationships between the three initial leads. bobby “axe” axelrod is a rich & successful hedge fund ceo who’s widely loved in nyc for famously surviving 9/11 and engaging in philanthropy. chuck rhoades is a ruthless us attorney in manhattan who prosecutes financial crime but has, until now, avoided going after axe and his hedge fund, axe capital, despite axe’s reputation for Shady Dealings. wendy rhoades is chuck’s wife, and axe capital’s on-call performance coach / therapist and axe’s bff. (allegedly. i’m rarely convinced that their friendship is as Real And Weird And Deep as we’re meant to believe, but we are meant to believe it.) chuck can’t deal with his wife being best friends with some other guy, let alone some guy who’s doing finance crimes, so once he resolves to Take Axe Down, he spends most of the season figuring out how, with the help of two assistant us attorneys, kate sacker and bryan connerty. axe doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, and can’t deal with any man getting more of wendy’s attention than he does, so he spends most of the season fighting back. (let’s also note that axe has a wife, lara, who is at best uneasy about wendy’s sway over him.)

chuck uses his power to do a lot of questionable things, up to and including stealing wendy’s notes on her axe capital patients, ostensibly in the service of justice. axe uses his wealth to do a lot of questionable things, up to and including letting one of his employees die to protect axe from prosecution when he could have extended the employee’s life, so he can keep making money. (also, we — and many, many people in nyc — find out that axe made his fortune off of 9/11 and tried to keep it buried for 14 years. he’s not so well loved after that.) the season ends with wendy deciding she’s sick of both of them, quitting her job at axe capital, and kicking chuck out of the house, followed by axe & chuck meeting face to face to yell about how much they hate each other and how they’ve both lost wendy by being so exquisitely terrible.

so this is the world that taylor mason (the most important character, as you know) walks into. rich men make their wealth of off suffering and death; powerful men abuse their public trust for personal ends; and the lives and wellbeing of everyone else turn on the whims of the rich and powerful and whatever years-long personal grudges they feel like satisfying today. (and sometimes, rich and powerful people will walk up to each other and say things like “What’s the point of having fuck you money if you never say fuck you?” and “You’re sure to become President of the Libertarian Club of Danbury Federal Prison.”)

season two introduces us to taylor and demonstrates that it’s not so easy for axe & chuck to become disentangled from wendy, or one another. early on, axe, chuck, & wendy are all under legal scrutiny due to the circumstances of chuck stealing wendy’s notes and wendy leaving axe capital. when axe is introduced to taylor by mafee, their mentor, and recognizes their brilliance, he enlists them to help attack another hedge fund ceo who wendy’s chosen to work for (and who is generally awful); chuck, who’s in danger of being fired, holds onto his job by successfully prosecuting (with the assistance of connerty and sacker) a prominent banker who’s also a friend of axe. axe decides to invest in a poor town in upstate new york, as a favor to a family friend, and puts taylor on figuring out if it’s a good deal; chuck is pushed to run for governor by his father, chuck senior, and senior sabotages a deal that would have brought a lot of money to the upstate town, which means a lot of money potentially lost for axe capital. (taylor, perhaps surprisingly, calls for stripping the town for all it’s worth to make up the loss.)

taylor gains favor with axe, gets used to a life of increasing wealth and power, finds themself on connerty’s radar, and starts to see the personal costs of doing business at axe capital. chuck & axe set their sights on one another again, which isn’t helped by axe finally managing to hire back wendy, a deal that strains chuck and wendy’s ongoing attempt to repair their marriage and hastens the crumbling of axe and lara’s marriage. (other than axe, the only person happy to see wendy back at axe capital is taylor — the two properly meet for the first time and click immediately.) chuck convinces senior to invest in a company, ice juice, that chuck’s best friend, ira schirmer, has also invested in, knowing that axe will try to ruin the company to hurt chuck and profit from its ruin — he does, and chuck gets it all on camera. wendy is again stuck in the middle, without knowing what chuck is planning, and decides to take a chunk of the profits axe is making. axe gets arrested, and wendy & chuck go home together, but only after axe sets taylor up to lead axe capital in his absence, lies about coming home to lara, and hugs wendy goodbye while chuck watches.

season three elevates taylor to more and more power, while setting axe against them — and, shockingly, on the same side as chuck — for the first time. axe is frustrated about the ice juice case and about having to give up his right to trade in order for axe capital, under taylor’s leadership and (allegedly) without axe’s input, to do business at all. (he’s also frustrated about lara deciding to divorce him, but it’s on the back burner, really.) chuck isn’t doing much better — senior and ira now hate him for using them as bait for axe; the new attorney general, jock jeffcoat, is forcing him (and sacker, who’s now his right hand attorney) to take on cases he hates in order to keep his job; and connerty, who’s supposed to be leading the ice juice case against axe, keeps finding evidence that points to chuck’s involvement. while taylor is in charge of axe cap, and with wendy advising them, they get accustomed to doing things their own way & dealing with crises, decide to hire quantitative analysts (aka quants! hello winston!) to help develop an algorithm that will change how axe capital does business, fend off / work around axe’s repeated attempts to make their decisions for them, and grow disillusioned with the culture of axe capital. (an example: taylor, and everyone at axe capital, watch a man die in an explosion on live television, and almost everyone around them starts cheering because they’ll make money off of it.)

chuck & axe are both fighting to make sure the other guy goes down over ice juice — until the news of wendy’s involvement gets out, and they have to work together to keep her safe and out of jail. (their plan to do this involves putting mafee in the line of fire, which taylor picks up on and confronts wendy about.) once the case is resolved, and chuck, axe, & wendy all get off scot-free, chuck reconciles with senior & ira and fires connerty for daring to come after him, and axe returns to axe capital and knocks taylor off their perch, back to being a regular employee. axe prepares to raise new money for axe capital, while undoing much of taylor’s work and belittling them and their requests for input and autonomy. chuck gives up his run for governor and tries to get jeffcoat out of office. but both of them are blindsided by betrayal — axe by taylor starting their own hedge fund, taylor mason capital, with the money raised for axe capital, and chuck by connerty and sacker siding with jeffcoat to get chuck fired. with chuck no longer the us attorney, he and wendy agree he’s got nothing against axe, and the three of them meet to start planning their retribution.

season four focuses on everyone’s desire for revenge against someone else, particularly axe & wendy’s separate but related desires for revenge against taylor. axe is trying to crush taylor & their company any way he can (sometimes with the assistance of his new girlfriend, rebecca cantu), and firing / threatening anyone at axe capital who gets in touch with them, because he can’t bear to let them succeed. chuck is running for state attorney general, because he needs a position of power to go after connerty, who’s now the us attorney, and jeffcoat. axe & chuck make a deal: if axe helps chuck get elected, chuck will make sure taylor is arrested. (“arrested for what?” axe doesn’t care what. just crimes.) wendy is helping both axe & chuck with their respective goals and feeling vindictive herself because she believes taylor took advantage of her empathy for them to put them in a position to start their own fund. taylor does well fending off axe’s attacks at first, with the help of mafee, their coo sara hammon, and other new employees. then their father, douglas mason, comes to visit, and three things become clear: 1) their relationship is difficult because he has almost no respect for them 2) they’re desperate for his approval 3) he’s come to see them because he wants their financial support for a personal project.

chuck wins his election, with axe’s help and with a very personal public speech. once in office, he agrees to help senior with a real estate deal; his legally questionable “help” catches the attention of connerty, sacker, and jeffcoat, who go to equally questionable lengths to prove that chuck is doing crimes. (an example: breaking into senior’s apartment to steal evidence from his biometrically locked safe.) wendy, who’s angry about her inclusion in chuck’s very personal speech, reaches out to taylor to talk. she learns that taylor is funding douglas’s personal project and, using her knowledge of their strained relationship from therapy sessions with taylor, works with axe to force taylor to kill the project. douglas walks out; taylor is devastated and wants some revenge of their own. (so does sara, who reports wendy for medical malpractice.) taylor attacks a company owned by rebecca, and axe supports her, until rebecca & taylor cut both their losses by cutting a deal. this makes axe so mad that he destroys the company instead, alienating rebecca and bankrupting taylor mason capital. chuck & senior’s real estate deal turns out to be a trap for connerty and jeffcoat (but not sacker, because she’s too smart for that), and it succeeds. however, chuck was supposed to be helping wendy keep her medical license; when she finds out that he didn’t do a thing, she walks out on him and into axe’s apartment. chuck, who was already sick of axe, “arrests” taylor and tells them that, though axe wants him to blackmail taylor into returning to axe capital, chuck wants them to go back as his operative to take axe down. taylor agrees to all sides of this deal, and returns to axe capital with their employees in tow, intending to just wait it out until axe and chuck destroy one another.

season five forces the leads to deal with the messes they made in season four, and smashes up & reforms the relationships of that season. axe, who’s feeling adrift after reaching a net worth of $10 billion and not feeling happy about it, is going in all directions at once. he decides that fellow deca-billionaire mike prince, who keeps swiping things he wants, is his new arch-nemesis; he applies for a bank charter for axe capital so he’ll never have to work again; he hires a artist, nico tanner, to paint for him on commission. the only thing he doesn’t do is run axe capital, even with the return of taylor, who he said he wanted around to help him make better plays, and their confession to him that they came back in collaboration with chuck. axe & chuck are ostensibly still allies, but chuck, with sacker behind him, is trying every angle he can think of to send axe to jail and prevent him from getting a bank charter. taylor, who’s struggling to achieve anything under the weight of appeasing both axe & chuck and the interference of other axe capital people in taylor mason capital’s work, teams up with wendy to win over investors and reinvents their fund as taylor mason carbon, focused on environmentally friendly investing. wendy and chuck get divorced, but are still entangled by shared assets and familial commitments; wendy and tanner take to one another romantically, axe finds out, and as we recall from season one, axe can’t deal with any man getting more of wendy’s attention than he does; and all of taylor’s employees are suspicious of wendy and her intentions.

season five hasn’t yet been filmed or aired in full thanks to covid, but where we’ve left off, axe has lost out on his bank charter, discovered that taylor and wendy teamed up with prince, and deliberately driven a wedge between axe & tanner, all in one night. it seems likely that wendy’s soon going to be as alienated from axe as she already is from chuck, and probable or at least possible that there’s more to taylor’s partnership with wendy than we’re led to believe. but we really have no idea what’s going to happen or even when we’re going to see it happen, and in a way that’s the best description of billions anyone could give.

#this is long. i apologize but also i should mention that even this leaves out a Lot of characters and plot details #and i am happy to answer more specific questions too because billions is simply So Much All The Time #inbox #anonymous #billions #taylor mason #bobby axelrod #chuck rhoades #wendy rhoades #lara axelrod #bryan connerty #kate sacker #jock jeffcoat #chuck rhoades senior

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celestialrry · 4 years ago

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gold rush

3.3k

summary: Enemies to lovers, inspired by the lovely Taylor Swift’s Gold Rush!

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, reader and Harry being bitches, angst, and a good ending bc I can't seem to leave anything on a bad note

If someone asked you to list off everything you hated about Harry Styles, you were positive that you would be talking for a solid 10 minutes. He was the epitome of everything you despised. To be more specific, you despised people who acted “deep”, people who acted humble, people who pretended to be different from the general population, people who acted like they didn’t know millions would drop to their knees with a simple wave or smile, and people who acted perfect. And as far as you knew, that was everything that Harry Styles was.

A famous rockstar and millionaire who comes back to his hometown, which happens to be yours as well, and acts like he wasn’t any different. He pretends to blush when someone would compliment him and ask for a picture, like he hasn't been asked for pictures millions of times before. He waves his black amex card around and buys one fucking coffee with it. You hated him, because everyone loved him.

And of course with your luck, a few years ago when your mom had met his mom at a neighborhood get together, they became best friends, and had made Christmas Eve dinner a tradition between your family and his. That’s where you met him, and that's when your hatred began. You knew who he was and had been a big fan of One Direction (Harry was even your favorite), but after you had had a conversation with him? Let’s say your excitement was diminished.

So here you were, driving through the snow in your rental car to your mom’s house a week before Christmas. Your playlist had changed songs and before you knew it you heard the familiar guitar strums. You couldn't bring yourself to change it, in all honesty you loved Harry’s first album, and most recent album Fine Line. Even though it came out 5 days ago you had it on repeat. As much as you hated Harry Styles, you would always love his music.

After you had arrived at the house you grew up in, said hi to your family and got settled, all you wanted was some coffee. You said your goodbyes and promised to be home soon, and drove through town to the coffeeshop, bundling into your sweater, jacket, and scarf before stepping out into the snow and making your way inside.

The bell rung as you swung open the door and almost immediately you spotted a familiar face, partially covered by a beanie and a scarf. Wonderful, you thought to yourself. You made your way to the counter and ordered a hot coffee and a scone before sitting down at one of the tables on the opposite side of the cafe. Anything to avoid him.

You heard your name phrased like a question and looked up, your eyes following from the Chelsea boots on the tile, to the trousers, then jacket covered sweater, scarf, then his face. Your chest clenched in frustration. “Harry.” You nodded back, making it obvious you wanted nothing to do with him.

He definitely did not get the hint because almost immediately the seat in front of you was taken over by his presence. “I didn’t think the Grinch would be n’town so early.”

Your cheeks burned and you quickly shot back. “And I thought Scrooge was dead by now but I guess I was wrong,” You rolled your eyes. “Also, are you sure I’m the one out of both of us who’s the Grinch, look at your sweater.” You added, eyes trailing down to his light green hairy sweater.

“If we’re basin’ it off looks then yes m’sure you would be the Grinch.” Harry retorted, scoffing.

“Wow Harold! You are just absolutely hilarious, are you sure you went into the right industry?” You raised your brows and gave a fake smile, knowing he could see right through it. Before he could answer, a waitress had brought over your coffee and scone, setting it down on the table.

She looked up at you reciting your order and giving you a smile before she did a double take at the man sitting in front of you. Oh god. “I’m so sorry, but are you Harry Styles?” the girl asked, eyes practically turning into hearts before you.

“Yes, I am, and y’name is?” He asked cheekily, extending a hand for her to shake. She looked like she was about to die as she gently grabbed his hand and shook it, reciting her name like she had attempted to memorize it the night before.

“Well, it’s very nice t’meet you, would y’like a picture?” He asked and you swore you couldn’t roll your eyes back further into your head.

“Oh! Um,” her eyes darted over to you as you sat back in your seat, sipping your coffee. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything...” She trailed off as if she was asking for your permission.

You wanted to say she already had anyways, but there was no reason for you to be upset at this girl. You would act like her too if you didn't know who Harry actually was. “Don’t worry, you aren’t.” You smiled at her, genuinely. Maybe she would drag Harry away long enough so you could eat your food and drink your coffee and scram.

She let out a breath it seemed she’d been holding and pulls out her phone. You purse your lips and sigh before offering to take a photo for them. She thanks you about a billion times while Harry stands up from his seat and wraps his arm gently around her shoulders. You stand up as well to get a few decent photos of the two of them smiling and hand the phone back to her. She tells Harry she’s been a fan for years and loves him as well as his music and message and he thanks her for supporting him. That’s the one think you like about Harry, how he truly is grateful for his fans. Everything else sucked. After they get done speaking she noticed your coffee and scone are done.

“God, I’m so sorry, would you guys like any refills or more pastries? It’s on the house.” She smiles, patting down her apron.

You look over at Harry who had sat down again and look back at the sweet girl in front of you. “No thank you.” She nods while Harry repeats your words and head back behind the counter.

“That was nice of you, back there. Thought the Grinch was too mean t’take photos for people.” He chuckled at you.

“If this is your way of thanking me, you aren't doing a very good job Harold.” You said sharply, pulling your coat off the back of the chair.

“It wasn’t m’way of thanking’ you. Y’need to be brought off y’high horse once in a while.” He shrugged like he wasn't just blatantly rude to you. Sure you both had a witty banter but it always seemed Harry took it too far, and well, that's one of the reasons you hate him.

“Maybe apply that to yourself once in a while.” You huffed, shrugging your jacket on and pulling your scarf back on as well.

He ignored your words and raised a brow. “Leavin’ already?”

“Yeah actually, I came here to relax but that's not working out so well.” You gestured between the two of you. You were going to leave it like that but as you stood up you could see the girl behind the counter waving for you to come over. Brows furrowed in confusion you headed over to her.

“I just wanted to say thank you so much for taking photos for us, and Harry looks really happy with you so, thank you for making him happy.” She said quietly so only you could hear. Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth, about to tell her there was no way in hell you’d ever date Harry but the way she looked at you with adoration caused you to smile and simply say, “Thank you.” Before bidding her a good day.

You dug through your bag as you went to go to the door to leave, looking for your car keys when a body appeared in front of you. You stopped immediately, looking to see that fucking grin and a hand holding your keys. “Lookin’ for these?” He teased, waving them in front. You reached out to grab them and he only pulled them away and you quickly realized how this would go.

“Harry, give me my keys.”

“Magic word?” He asked turning his ear towards you. Instead you blew air in it and grabbed your keys when he was distracted, brushing past him to open the door into the freezing air. The sparks you felt as you passed him was definitely because you were cold, right?

Soon it was Christmas Eve and you don't think you’ve ever been dreading an evening more, other than the past few years on this exact day. It was snowing when you and your mom arrived at the Styles household. You knocked on the door loud so you both could be let in as soon as possible.

“Sweetie, I don't think knocking that hard is really welcoming.”

You pursed your lips and turned around to your mom, knowing this was just how she was and you bit back a snarky comment simply replying, “I’m just really cold.”

After those words left your mouth the door opened behind you and you turned around, face to face with the curly headed man-child. He nodded at you, saying your name before calling out to your mom. She smiled and gave him a quick hug before he ushered her in the house, forgetting about you outside. Already a wonderful start to the evening, you thought, sighing as you walked inside onto the wooden floors.

You heard laughs and exclamations in the dining room, and you made your way there, knowing this house a little too well. Anne called out your name as she saw you step in, rushing forward to give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “It’s so nice t’see you, love. You get more gorgeous every year.” You but your lip and smiled at her, “And you get younger each year.” You softly said as she laughed and led you over to Gemma.

“Hi Gems,” You grinned, giving her a hug. She returned it, just as happy to see you. Out of the Styles siblings, she was your favorite, obviously, but the two of you had actually become friends, not just family-friends. “Hey, love. Long time no see.” You laughed as you both pulled away. “Too long.”

Your mom had brought over some pie so she sat it down on the dining table where the rest of the food was. “Well loves, let all sit down!” Anne said, taking her seat at the head of the table. You opted to sit in the chair in front of you, while your mom sat to the right of Anne, so she was diagonally across from you. Gemma then took the seat across from you, next to your mom. Oh no. The only seat Harry could sit in would be the one next to you.

He looked around the table and bit his lip as if that would help the situation but he ended up sighing just loud enough for you to hear it as he plopped into the seat next to you. His hair moved with him, falling perfectly into place on his head. Of course his hair would be perfect like he apparently is.

Everyone quickly jumped into conversations about everyone’s life, and what they’ve been doing, focusing on Gemma for the most part as you all dug in to the food. The conversation then led to Harry’s career and life at the moment.

You zoned in after deciding not to pay attention after he started talking to hear him say, “I don’t think m’different, I just have a different job y’know?”

You scoffed out of reflex and all eyes at the table turned to you. “Yeah, a different job that makes you known to millions of people around the world, that in itself changes a person.” You pointed out, taking a sip of your water afterwards.

Your mom hissed your name scoldingly. “That was unnecessary.” she finished, her eyes glaring at you.

Your eyes grew wide as you realized you forgot you were in front of your family, and the rest of Harry’s family.

“It’s okay, Miss.” Harry spoke up with your mom’s name, looking at her for a moment with a smile before turning to face you. “We can have different opinions but y’don't really know me all that well d’you?” His captivating eyes locked onto yours and you suddenly felt small in front of him. Before you could respond Anne exclaimed, “Time for dessert, yeah?”

As everyone went to put their plates in the sink, you trailed behind feeling unusually guilty, not how you normally felt after similar conversations with Harry. Everyone else had picked up conversation again as they made their way back to the table, but you kept your mouth shut the whole time, only mumbling a thank you to Anne who served you your pie. Luckily no one seemed to notice you had decided to no longer talk, it would only make things worse, you believed. Except Harry.

He was talking the whole night, trying to ignore that comment you made, because well, he knew that you were only judging him on the surface level. It was strange to him though, that the assumptions hurt more coming from you than the hundreds of people who made the same ones at him everyday. He wished he could say he expected more from you, but the two of you had been at odds since the first day you met. He had absolutely no idea why you had been so nice, then 15 minutes later you weren't laughing at his jokes and rolling your eyes. he had become so fed up with it, it was safe to say he hated you. He enjoyed teasing you and pushing your buttons, but the true frustration he felt for you never went away after all these years of sarcastic comments and stolen glares.

So why was his chest clenching as he looked over at you to see you silently eating your pie and looking down at the table cover? Harry was sure that he had never seen you so resigned before, usually you had all the things in the world to say.

He worked up the courage to softly knock his fabric covered knee against yours. You looked up at the contact, head turning slightly to look at him, but he was faced to his mom, immersed in whatever conversation they were having. An accident it seemed, that he touched you. It was the most contact the two of you have had since you met him, and only then did you shake his hand.

Soon enough everyone finished their pie and you quickly stood up and offered to take them to the sink while they headed to the living room to have a glass of wine and play some games. As you walked past Gemma she gently grabbed your arm and you stopped, looking at her. “Are you okay?” She asked, her face etched with concern.

“I’m fine Gems, maybe ate too much.” You laughed it off and she took your answer hesitantly before heading to the living room. You reached the kitchen and set the plates and forks in the sink, pulling up your sweater sleeves and tucking back your hair as you started the faucet. You heard the beginning of some Christmas music and knew there was no chance anyone would come back to check on you with Andy William’s voice serenading them with lyrics of “the most wonderful time of the year”. Bullshit, you thought.

You began to wash the plates with a sponge that was on the edge of the sink, and immersed yourself in the soapy water, placing plates to dry on the rack, and returning to wash the next.

“Y’don't need t’be doing those.”

You practically jumped out of your skin when you hear this voice. You lowered the water flow and turned to look at him approaching you on your left. “I know.” Was all you said, as you continued to wash the second to last dish.

His eyes widened at your response. He was ready to hear, “It’s called being polite, Harold. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Or a snarky comment like that. But no. You just brushed him off.

He was about to open his mouth and tease you a bit more, just to hear the you that he knew but you beat him to it. “I’m sorry, Harry. About what I said earlier, and... everything before that too.” You mumbled, focusing your attention on scrubbing the last dish that was definitely clean already.

“Oh! Um, thank you.” Was all he could muster out, his heart beating a thousand times a second, as his cheeks turned red. This was odd.

You waited a bit, in the silence, for him to say more but he didn’t, You sighed, putting the last dish on the rack and wiping your hands dry on the towel before turning to him fully.

“Really? I just apologized for like, everything, and you can't do the same?” You asked, looking up at him exasperated. “I’m not the only one here who has been an absolute asshole, it goes both ways.”

He furrowed his brows and looked at you, the wheels visibly turning in his head. “M’sorry too. I mean it. It’s fitting how y’apologized first though, because y’know, you started it.”

He really needed to stop talking.

You glared at him incredulously. “I started it? When I met you, you didn’t even bother to look at me, not even halfway through our introduction you left to talk to someone else. It was like that the entire day, sue me for reacting like any normal person would.” You said, you gaze now focused on his chest. You deflated a bit, after admitting that to him. It was terrible, meeting someone you had adored for years, only for them to leave and not even finish listening to your name.

His mouth formed an “o” shape as his frustration dissipated. Harry couldn't even argue with you on that, because he remembered that night. One of his mates had called for him and he sped off, leaving you in the middle of one of your neighbor’s backyards during a little get together.

“I-I’m sorry. I remember that, y’didn’t deserve that at all, I was a proper arse.” He managed to get out, his lips turning into a line at the tension.

“Yeah,” you laughed a bit. “Every year I’d just hate you more and more, because every time I saw you it seems you hated me more than the last.”

“The same f’me too, y’know.”

“What?” You looked up at him.

“I hated y’cause I thought y’hated me.” He pointed out, his lips turning up into a grin.

You laughed, your head falling into your hands. “I think we should’ve had this conversation years ago,” You said, looking up at the man who didn't seem so bad anymore. “Do you wanna start over?” You asked.

“No, let’s treat it as a bump in the road, y’know? Kiss and makeup.” He grinned, looking up to the ceiling.

You followed his gaze to see a little brach of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “That’s an odd place for mistletoe.”

“Doesn't matter, y’have t’follow the rules.” He said cheekily.

He stepped forward as did you, and you brought your hands up to his shoulders. You leaned up and kissed his cheek instead, plush lips against his stubble. You pulled away and smiled at the visible blush on his cheeks.

“You tease.” He laughed, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug, and in that moment, you finally understood why everyone would die to feel his touch.

low-key hated this ending but its fineee. thank you for all the love <3

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #enemies to lovers

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big-oof-bi-goof · 4 years ago

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

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

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

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

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are a living chronicle of terror.

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

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It worked, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now. Repeat after me.

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

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

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

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonah magnus

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les-mooserables · 4 years ago

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Hello, John

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

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

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

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

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

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

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

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

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

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