#and then i had to drag gertrude to the house after i finally got her in the coop

[dykeofalltrades]

gonna preface this by saying everyones ok. a coyote went after another one of my chickens. ive been staying right there w them whenever theyve been out since Petunia, but i figured itd be ok since itd be like half an hr. heard some upset chicken noises. ran out. chased off the coyote. Gertrude lost a lot of feathers but is otherwise ok. her skins a bit raw in places but no bites and no real bleeding. i got her cleaned up. they will not be going out much for a while. worst part was it happened right by the coop so it took a while to convince them to go over there and go in to safety

[aster-aspera]

One place to fall

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Can’t go home

Relationship: Jon/Martin/Tim/Sasha

Warnings: food, Jon just generally being a bit sad? Idk, if there’s something you want tagged, feel free to tell me

Masterlist

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Jon woke up that morning with a strangled gasp, the afterimage of his dreams still burned into the back of his eyelids, keeping him from falling back to sleep. He rolled over, expecting to find the comforting warmth of one of his partners to keep him company in the lonely hours of an early day. Instead, what greeted him was the cold grey wall of Georgie’s guest room. It didn’t take long after that for the memories to flow back.

Three days. He really should stop expecting them to be here at this point.

They’re not here, they can’t be here, and he can’t go home, not for a long while, not till the police stop suspecting him for a murder he didn’t commit.

He sighed, rolling over onto his back when aches started running up his side. He stared up at the off-white popcorn ceiling, trying not to think of how Tim was probably sprawled out over Martin and Sasha, stealing most of the blankets and driving his sharp elbows into their sides. He tried not to miss Sasha’s warmth against his side and the sound of Martin’s soft snores. He always used to complain about their sleeping arrangements, but now he would do anything to be back in that bed.

He groaned and rolled over a few more times, trying in vain to find a position that was comfortable enough to attempt sleep again, not that that would go very well, with the nightmares plaguing him as soon as he closed his eyes.

Eventually, he conceded and got out of bed, grabbing his cane from the wall and taking a moment to work the stiffness out of his limbs. He limped into the kitchen and smiled at the Admiral when he raised his head sleepily. He wondered if he could convince the others to get a cat when he got home. If he ever got home.

The smile slipped off his face and he turned to open the curtains, letting in the greyish light of an early dawn. The Admiral mewled plaintively at his feet, pushing against him. He bent down carefully to run his fingers along the cat’s back, closing his eyes for a moment and just letting the feeling ground him.

He straightened and made his way over to the cramped kitchen, intent on making himself a small breakfast to keep him company whilst he waited for the world to wake up. He reached towards the cabinet over the sink, and for a moment expected their mismatched collection of mugs with ridiculous quotes and terrible puns. He shouldn’t have felt the disappointment he did when instead it was just a shelf of plain white cups.

He shut the cabinet door a little more forcefully than strictly necessary, breathing deeply against the sudden swell of emotion in his throat.

In the scope of all that had happened to him, this should have been minor, this should have been fine. It was just Georgie, the person he had used to love, the person he still cared for. And his partners were really just a phone call away.

So why then, did it feel like he was breaking? Why did every little reminder this wasn’t his home tear something apart deep in his gut?

Home had always been his safety net, and now, he had nowhere to fall.

And now he just had to sit here, stare at the blank walls and hope the police would finally realise he hadn’t been the one to kill jurgen Leitner. Every day that hope felt a bit further away.

He opened the group chat he shared with the others. There were no new messages, of course not, none of them were awake yet. Six am was a bit early even for Tim. He scrolled back to their conversation from last night.

A picture of Tim grinning into the camera while a pot bubbles over behind him.

Sasha: Tim’s cooking tonight, send help

Martin: If the house burns down or he poisons us, I want you to know I love you

Jon: I’m sure it won’t come to that.

He scrolls back down to the bottom of the chat, a small smile on his face at the easy conversation of last night. It wasn’t the same as being there with them, but it was a small comfort.

The three dots that signalled someone was typing popped up on his screen and he noted with surprise Sasha was already online.

Sasha: Youre up early

Jon: I could say the same for you.

Sasha: Needed to pee

Jon: Yes, I suppose that makes sense.

Sasha: So what’s your excuse

Jon: My back hurts again.

Sasha: :(

Sasha: And is that the only reason?

Jon: No

Jon: I miss you.

Sasha: Darling

Jon: I’m alright, I just wish I could see you

Jon: In person that is.

Sasha: We could come over?

Jon: I don’t think that’s wise.

Sasha: Yeah, i guess

Sasha: We miss you too

A swarm of emotions bubbled up in Jon’s throat at the words, threatening to spill over in a mess of heartache and sorrow and fear. They press against the bounds of his throat, choking him, filling him with so many feelings he could not even begin to parse them out. He just wanted to go home.

He swallows it down, tucks the whole mess into a corner of his mind and puts down his phone. He doesn’t want to bother Sasha, or any of the others. He’s already put so much on them, dragged them into the fear and confusion that was the archives, he had no right to bother them with more.

And he knew he was just being dramatic, he was a grown man, he should be able to handle being away from home for a while. He just needed to get himself together, focus on the next step.

He picked up a stack of statements from the coffee table, slipping on his glasses and burying himself in the comforting rhythm of paper and pen. At least this was something he still controlled, still knew how to do.

Georgie appeared at some point, giving him a disapproving glance to find him working so early and coraling him into eating breakfast with her. She can’t stay long after that, and both Jon and the Admiral watch her leave with the same forlorn air.

Jon looked up from his work as a heavy knock resounded from the front door. His first thought was that it was Georgie, back from her errands early. But she would just have let herself in, and Jon knew for certain she had her key with her when she left.

And who did that leave? The police? Some avatar coming to settle a score? Gertrude's killer finally come to finish the job?

Every option was bad, and every option would not let a flimsy door stop them. He stood up, walked into the kitchen as calmly as he could with dread and paranoia hanging over him like a dark cloud and grabbed the largest knife he could find. The knock came again, and he could hear indistinct whispering from behind the door.

Multiple people then. That wasn’t good for his chances. He gripped the knife just a little bit tighter.

“Hey boss, open up,” came a familiar voice, one he used to hear rough and sleepy in the mornings and soft and loving in the evenings. His heart brightened in a momentary thrill at the thought of his partners, or at least, one of them, being on the other side of that door, so close to him again after all those days without them. And all he had to do was open up that door and pull them into his arms once more.

That thrill was almost immediately dampened again as he realized they should not be here. It was why he had left in the first place. They were too connected to him, too wrapped up in his messy web of conspiracy and paranoia. If the police saw them here, if Elias saw them here, they would be leading all of it right to Georgie’s doorstep.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” He told the door and tried not to think of the warm hands behind it.

“We’re not supposed to do a lot of things,” Came Sasha’s amused voice.

“Like date each other,” Tim filled in, “But here we are, so you going to let us in now?”

“No, the police could find out, and you might get Georgie in trouble and there’s just so many reasons this is a bad idea.”

“Jon please, we’re worried about you, Georgie said you weren’t doing well,” Martin said softly

Jon sat down on the couch heavily, knees protesting from standing up too long. He stared at the door.

“And standing out here is probably a lot more risky than being in the apartment, so best let us in.”

He sighed. You never could argue with Sasha’s logic. The others looked up victoriously when he finally unlocked the door.

“There he is!” Tim crowed, as Sasha and Martin offered him a warm smile while bustling into the apartment, both laden with grocery bags. Sasha pressed a light kiss to his forehead as she passed and he tried not to start crying at the feeling.

“You have to leave,” He said as he shut the door, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Martin and Sasha didn’t look up from where they were unloading piles of vegetables and snacks from their bags.

“What? No, hey guys, I missed you, happy to see you all?” Tim complained as he draped himself over Jon’s back. Jon scowled at him.

“Jon, stop being stubborn, we’ve all been through hell the past few weeks, and right now we just want to be here to keep you company,” Martin said in that firm yet gentle voice of his.

“You really shouldn’t be alone after all that,” Sasha said as she dumped out a tupperware container into a pot.

“I’m not alone,” Jon said grumpily, “I have the Admiral.” Though he had apparently decided to make himself scarce for the time being. Jon cursed him for the betrayal.

“Are you saying you prefer the company of a cat to ours?” Tim asked, pulling them both back onto the couch and settling a blanket over them.

“Maybe,” Jon pouted, burrowing into Tim’s chest despite the fact that he was still upset with them, “He doesn’t uselessly endanger everyone to come give me cuddles.”

“Well we’re here now, and we’re not leaving till you feel better.”

“And admit it, you’re happy we’re here,” Martin said, apparently finishing up with his preparations in the kitchen and curling up next to Jon on the couch.

Jon did not want to admit it, but something warm and content curled up in his stomach, the warm feeling of home returning to his bones. A warm and savoury smell drifted through the room, clearly coming from whatever Sasha was warming up on the stove.

This apartement did not look like home in the slightest, the walls and ceiling all wrong, the furniture hard and uncomfortable and unfamiliar. But with all of them here, and that familiar smell of soup and Tim’s conditioner surrounding him, it wasn’t all that bad.

Sasha sat down on his other side, handing everyone a bowl of soup and giving Jon a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Martin pressed one to his temple and Tim just ruffled his hair fondly.

A few words were exchanged between them, but Jon didn’t bother paying too much attention. He knew he should still be angry, or at least have a firm conversation with them on what they had agreed on. But not now, not when they were here and he was home and for a moment he could forget all about Leitner and the institute and just be safe.

[supercasey]

TMA Child Avatars AU

Alright, so ever since I listened to the episode about Agnes’s origins, I keep thinking about an AU where a bunch of the other Entities, after realizing that it’s at least possible to create an avatar from birth, perform their own rituals and make a bunch of the future Archives gang. This AU has a lot of potential for angst, but since TMA is sad enough, I’ll probably mostly focus on the world building and fluffy/funny stuff (‘cus god knows I’m a slut for that shit).

To all my followers, I’m sorry I keep making kid AUs; I got told in like 2015 or so that I sucked at writing kids and it’s Never Left My Mind, so now I always wanna make stupid AUs in order to practice writing kids better (I also have an original story I wanna write soon with a ten year old as the main character, so yeah, I need all the practice I can get).

Anyways, here’s all I’ve got on the AU this far (explanation under the cut; a very long post is up ahead):

Character Backstories

Jonathan “Jon” Sims - Apprentice Archivist of the Eye

Jon is a very complicated story, at least from everyone outside of the Eye’s gaze. It was Elias’s idea to create him, and were it not for Gertrude getting lucky, no one but Elias, Peter Lukas, and Simon Fairchild would have ever known that Jon existed until he was ready to become the next archivist. Gertrude found out by pure chance when she accepted a live statement from one very frightened Delores Sims, who told the archivist about how a strange man had been stalking her ever since she found out she was pregnant. Out of completely nowhere, her husband died a month after she conceived, and even though it looked like an accident, Delores swore that she saw an arm surrounded by fog push him down the stairs. Things only grew worse for her over the next few weeks, as in the midst of her grieving her dead husband, Delores began seeing green, glowing irises out of the corners of her eyes, watching her every move as she lived her life, which was followed by the stalker in question appearing constantly in her dreams, always watching her from afar, an unpleasant and frankly unnerving grin on his face the entire time.

Suspicious, and finding the description of the stalker all too familiar by the end of the statement, Gertrude investigated Delores’s claims on her own time, going so far as to break into Elias’s office in order to dig up more information on whatever he was up to. No matter what her theories may have been, none of them were anything like what she found in his letters to his associates. Somehow, Elias had conspired alongside the Lukas and Fairchild families to find their heirs/avatars together, and Elias was the last person to acquire one of his own. Gertrude was unsure of the details at the time (and she still unfortunately is), but from what she could gather, the child growing in Delores Sims’ body was somehow touched by the Eye because of something Elias had done, and they would be born with the perfect framework to have the powers that an archivist learns over several years of training at birth! With no time to lose, Gertrude got back into contact with Delores, and after much discussion between the two women, she convinced Delores to come to her apartment when she eventually went into labor, and to give Gertrude the baby after they were born so that she could keep them safe from Elias.

The birth was meant to be done in secret, but the second the first contraction occurred, there was a knock on Gertrude’s door, Elias waiting for her on the other side with an unhappy grimace on his face. He came armed with a gun, and threatened to murder Gertrude if she didn’t allow him to claim the child as his own. Aware she still had many rituals to stop in the near future, and that none of her assistants were experienced enough to stop them by themselves, Gertrude reluctantly agreed to let him inside, but on one condition; the child had to be shared between them. Elias was abrasive to the idea of course, but he eventually complied with his archivist’s demands, not wanting to replace her so early on in her career. The sight of her stalker coming into the bedroom to watch her give birth unfortunately sent Delores into a panic attack while she was still very much in labor, making the rest of the birth a rather dangerous thing, but the child survived, leaving his mother terrified and shaking. Gertrude had planned on letting her go on her merry way after the baby was born, but Elias wasn’t taking any chances, and he shot her as soon as he deemed it safe to.

Since then, Gertrude and Elias have had dual custody of Jonathan- the name was Gertrude’s idea, on the grounds that it was a nice, proper name for a young man- trading him back and forth every other week. It’s been hard, especially with the adults he calls his parents wanting to kill each other, but Jon’s oblivious to most of the fighting right now, assuming his folks are just going through a messy divorce.

Martin Blackwood-Lukas - Adoptive Son of Peter Lukas

Peter ended up running very behind in the whole child avatar thing (a first for his family, something Simon reminds him of on a daily basis), and he really struggled with creating a baby avatar that would actually be able to “keep up” with the other young messiahs that were coming to be. Eventually he realized that his family’s usual method would take too long, so out of desperation he went to Elias and Simon for help. It was Simon’s idea that worked; he suggested that since the normal methods weren’t working, and kids usually don’t become lonely until they’re older, that Peter should try his own summoning ritual like the Lightless Flame did with Agnes. Peter was hesitant at first, but he gave in quickly, sacrificing a number of lonely souls to his entity in a well-timed manner, until finally, he found a small, swaddled baby in the midst of the fog; a supposed gift from the Lonely for his loyalty.

Peter was delighted by this discovery, and so were his colleagues, the men relieved that their hard work had actually paid off for once. After naming the little boy Martin- it was Elias’s idea, though he didn’t have much of an exact reason for the name, simply claiming that it “suited” the child- and before long, Peter began raising his newfound son much the same as he was; in almost total isolation, save for a variety of rotating nannies and caregivers. Unfortunately for Peter, this went horribly wrong almost as soon as he got started, as by the time that Martin was six months old he had accidentally forced five different nannies into the fog out of fear of them leaving like the ones before them had. With no other options available, and being able to actually leave the fog if Martin threw anymore fits, Peter was forced to raise his son by hand, which again went wrong, but for very different reasons, as to his shock, he became quite attached to his adopted child.

This evolved into Peter having doubt of the Lonely for the first time in his life, but he refused to acknowledge it for as long as he could. But he was finally forced to when, after Martin turned five years old, the rest of the Lukas family insisted on performing a test on the child to see how well Martin could handle the fog without any guidance. He had been inside the fog before of course, with Peter holding his hand or carrying him through the dense chill, but the family wanted to isolate Martin inside for a full month. This secretly scared Peter like nothing else ever had, but out of fear of what his family might think, he didn’t say anything at the time, simply watching from afar as his son was dragged into the fog and left to fend for himself. The ritual went wrong within the first week, Martin having a full-scale breakdown and nearly hyperventilating to death, and yet the family kept him in there for another week before the intervention.

The results of the test of course disappointed the other members of the Lukas family, who suggested that they simply leave Martin to disappear into the fog and look for a new, more sufficient messiah to serve their god. The news hit Peter incredibly hard, and despite his previous inhibitions and fear, he knew he couldn’t let the Lonely consume his one and only son. So, without telling anyone of what he was up to, he ventured into the fog, rescued Martin, and fled to live with his estranged ex-husband the Magnus Institute. Since then he’s been living with Elias at his house and avoiding his family at all costs, all while young Martin has grown up alongside the other entity kids and has struggled to figure out his role in everything, but at least he has his dad on his side through all of this.

Sasha James - Chosen Daughter of the Mother of Puppets

(Note: I headcanon the Mother of Puppets as a giant spider, so that’s how I’m writing her… sorry if this is inaccurate, but I’m only on MAG 152, y’all. Besides, I think this is cool af.)

Sasha was very much planned, even more so than Agnes was so many years beforehand. The Mother of Puppets had her minions gather hundreds upon hundreds of orphaned infants and bring them to her nest. She swaddled each every one in her webbing and kept them like this for several weeks, allowing them time to adjust to the webbing and adapt. Unfortunately, most of these children weren’t cut out for the Web’s influence, and while a few indeed held their adoptive mother’s mark, almost none of them were marked deep enough to become a fully realized avatar. The unsuccessful batches were subsequently sent off to orphanages across the world and replaced with new babies, this process repeating for years and years, until finally, Sasha was born. There was nothing special about her parents, yet she not only bore The Web’s mark, she seemed to have it embedded into her very soul. This, of course, was met with celebration from the Web, and plans were quickly made as to how to raise her moving forward, as no one wanted Sasha to end up like Agnes did.

Annabelle Cane ended up being the one chosen to home Sasha for the first few years of her childhood, and she was dutiful in her new, rather honorable role, as she not only cared for the child well, but she treated Sasha as her own, though she was careful to be seen more as an older sister than a mother to the girl; that role was, of course, reserved for Sasha’s real mother. When Sasha finally turned five, the Mother of Puppets announced further plans for the young avatar, calling on Annabelle to take Sasha to the Magnus Institute and give her to one of their hidden agents there so that she could learn more about how the Web uses it’s influence over other entities. This worried Annabelle, who wanted to keep the child near her and prove that she was the most loyal of the mother’s children, but she would never disobey a direct order from the being that had given her life such meaning. So, rather reluctantly, Annabelle gave Sasha to another member of the Web, watching from the shadows as this unworthy follower took the blessed daughter into the institute for further training.

This went wrong within only a few months. Gertrude ended up finding out who the Web’s spy in the institute was, as she had suspected that another entity was trying to control her from the shadows, and after disposing of the threat and searching their home for anything useful that she could use against the Web, she found Sasha. The archivist was tempted to kill the supernatural child on sight, but while she can murder her assistants and enemies without much remorse, on the grounds that it’s always for the greater good, killing a child is a very different story. So she took Sasha in, raising the Web’s child as her own alongside the Eye’s own prodigy Jon, all while trying to help Sasha control her slowly budding powers. The Mother of Puppets has been trying to get Sasha back ever since, enraged that the child is so close to her yet just out of reach, but with no luck, though there’s no telling how long that will last.

Timothy & Daniel Stoker - Dancer and Future Ringmaster of the Stranger

Both Tim and Danny are chosen ones of the Stranger, created as soon as their god had gained enough spare power to create them. Tim was born first, being the Stranger’s first attempt at birthing an avatar that might be powerful enough to help lead the Unknowing, but Gertrude interrupted midway through the ritual. By some miracle, Tim survived the ordeal, but he was left “incomplete” to some degree, leaving him simply marked and not fully connected to the Stranger. The entity’s followers ended up keeping him around though, both because Nikola Orsinov was too fascinated by the newborn baby to give him up, and because his parents wanted him to survive, but it was agreed that another attempt would be made, this time with more planning involved. Four years later, Danny was born, and with Gertrude too preoccupied to intervene this time around (and because she didn’t realize they’d try again so soon), the ritual went much better and created a far more suitable vessel for the Stranger’s powers.

After that, Tim and Danny’s parents died, fully succumbing to the Stranger’s transformation and leaving them orphaned. Not that their presence was strictly necessary after the kids were born, as Nikola Orsinov was more than happy to take over in most of the child rearing, genuinely growing quite fond of the two boys, particularly Tim, as despite his lack of supernatural abilities, she found him to be rather endearing, which is probably the closest she can get to genuinely caring about someone. Both brothers were raised more or less the same way, save for Danny being showered with more praise and being trained as a future ringmaster while Tim was mostly ignored and trained to be a dancer. Some followers of the Stranger feared that Tim might harbor resentment towards his little brother and try to kill him someday, but to their surprise, Tim only grew more protective of him over the years, swearing to keep Danny safe as he grew up to fulfill his destiny and help their family mold the world in their image.

Eventually though, when Tim was eleven and Danny was seven, Tim realized what was actually happening behind the scenes, and not wanting his brother to risk being sacrificed for the world’s destruction, he told Danny everything, leading to the young messiah to run away with him to London (they were raised primarily in Russia, but moved with the circus a lot, and were in France at the time that they finally ran away). There, Tim found the infamous Gertrude Robinson, who he knew had the power to stop the Unknowing, as she had once saved him from becoming the Stranger’s avatar, and inadvertently led him to having a little brother. Tim and Danny have since moved in with Michael, and they visit the Magnus Institute whenever they get the chance, as both boys have grown to become friends with the other avatar kids. You’d think that the Stranger’s followers would be furious about all of this- don’t worry, many of their acolytes are- but Nikola has laughed it off entirely and keeps insisting that the boys are just having a “sleepover” or are away at “summer camp” (in fucking January, apparently).

Melanie King - Cadet of the Slaughter

Honestly, the Slaughter wasn’t as into the whole “let’s make an avatar from scratch!” thing that the other entities’ followers were doing, but hey, sometimes child avatars just kinda wind up on your doorstep, ya know? Melanie ended up being found at about four years old, sobbing on her hands and knees outside of a burning hospital and calling for her mommy and daddy to come back to her, but no one answered her cries, and she was left to weep for quite some time before someone found her. The hospital, you see, had been overrun by the Corruption and promptly burned to the ground by the Desolation, neither of which bothered to stick around for some worthless child. Melanie’s parents were both inside when the entities clashed, leaving her orphaned and scared, and while Alfred Grifter, who had been on his way to a show with his bandmates at the time that he found her, had intended on just leaving her be, he saw the overwhelming rage and blood-lust in her crying eyes, and realized in that moment that she was touched by the urge to kill, just like he was.

Melanie was promptly taken in by Alfred Grifter and the band, who honestly had no idea what the hell they were doing. On one hand, Alfred knew that keeping a kid around was unbelievably dangerous for all parties involved, but on the other, he really didn’t want to leave Melanie all by herself, for fear of what she might do if left without any guidance from “people” who knew what she was going through, at least to some degree. That isn’t to say Alfred and his bandmates were all that great at raising her- they mostly just brought her to gigs and let her play on her Gameboy backstage while they started massacres- but they did at least try to give her somewhat of a home. It wasn’t until five years into this that some other Slaughter followers found out about Melanie’s existence, to which they told Alfred to give her to them for proper training. Knowing her life would be horrible with them, Alfred gave his ward a backpack full of everything she ever owned, a kid sized guitar, her Gameboy, and sent her on the run.

Melanie was scared out of her mind at first, having grown to see Alfred and his bandmates as her new family; she had already lost her parents, so why did she have to lose the band, too!? But there were no other options, she had to run, so she did just that, attacking any adult who tried to stop her along the way. She didn’t actually know about the Magnus Institute when she made her way to London, and Alfred didn’t tell her to go there or anything, but she ended up being spotted by Adelard Dekker while she was looking for a place to stay in the area. Seeing that Melanie was an avatar of some kind, Adelard managed to convince her that he was safe, and to let him take her to someone that could help her. He brought Melanie straight to Gertrude Robinson, who agreed to house the child since Adelard couldn’t, though she ended up letting one of her unofficial assistants (*cough* Gerry *cough*) take her to live in his flat so she wouldn’t be as easy for Elias to monitor/get ahold of.

Julia Montauk & Alice “Daisy” Tonner - Children of the Hunt

(Watch as I fuck with timelines so badly that the people who keep track of this shit will order a hit on me) The Hunt found both of their avatars in strikingly similar yet different ways; Julia was first, born from the womb of another entity’s follower, but bound for so much more than anything the Dark could give her. Years after her destined birth, Julia’s mother was viciously murdered by the People’s Church when she was just five years old, her father Robert Montauk going down the path of becoming a fully-fledged Hunter, and in the process he unknowingly marked Julia with his newfound entity, which in turn unlocked an unprecedented potential inside of her, not that it was fully realized until another tragedy struck her. This next tragedy, unfortunately, claimed Julia’s father. Mr. Pitch was mistakenly summoned, and in it’s rage, it destroyed Robert while he was in the midst of a sacrifice. The monster would’ve gotten Julia next, had it not been for the intervention of a nearby Hunter.

Trevor Herbert honestly didn’t mean to get involved, but when he witnessed a little girl screaming as she ran out of a house, a giant mass of darkness chasing after her, and no one willing to so much as call the damn cops, he knew he had to rescue the poor kid. In a flash he ran over, picked Julia up, and ran away with her to safety, managing to get her in his car (which he stole, but that’s not important) and drive as far away from her old home as possible. In the aftermath, Trevor had no idea what to do with Julia, since he had never actually wanted any kids of his own, but… well, he ain’t heartless, and that monster was still out there somewhere, just waiting to sink it’s cursed teeth into this young child’s flesh. Trevor ended up keeping her after that, becoming her adoptive father as he traveled with her around the UK, slowly but surely training her to hunt the same monsters that claimed her beloved parents.

You’d think that would be the end of Trevor Herbert adopting little girls marked by the Hunt, but nope, he just can’t catch a fucking break! He found Daisy about a year later, when Julia was eight and becoming more adjusted to her new lifestyle. Again, Trevor wasn’t really planning on going on any hunts at the time that this happened, he was just traveling through the area, but upon finding a bloodied up, terrified little girl being chased by a boy who looked possessed… well, it wasn’t like Julia wasn’t lonely, and again, Trevor isn’t heartless, and he sure as hell can’t let things go. So yeah, he kidnapped another child touched by the Hunt, even though this one actually had a living parent, and once again he took to traveling the UK with his adoptive daughters, secretly reveling in his new role as a father. Daisy, while scared at first, quickly grew fond of her new family, and even fonder of her new nickname after Trevor patched up her wounds, and noticed a flower-shaped scar on her back, prompting him to start affectionately calling her Daisy.

Yep, things were going pretty good for the family of three, but of course, shit eventually caught up with Trevor, not that he thought he could avoid it forever.

The police eventually caught wind of “Trevor the Tramp” traveling with two little girls who looked an awful lot like the missing thirteen and ten year olds Julia Montauk and Alice Tonner, and in his desperation to keep from getting arrested and having his children taken away, Trevor fled to downtown London in order to lie low for awhile and raise his daughters in relative peace, only ever going out for food runs and the occasional hunt. It was through one of these hunts that he ended up meeting Gerard Keay, the two of them chasing after the same book that had been summoning shadow people to wreck havoc on the city, and after a bit of back and forth banter over the campfire that was once a Leitner, Gerry convinced Trevor to move in with him so that the girls and him would be safer and actually have a home. Although he was hesitant to accept an offer he thought was too good to be true (also, he’s not gonna lie, he thought Gerry was a vampire when they met), Trevor agreed and moved into Gerry’s flat with his daughters, and has since helped Gertrude and her assistants with monster hunts.

Oliver Banks & Georgie Barker - Fetchlings of The End

Georgie and Oliver are an odd story, with the latter of the two having gained his powers as a mere toddler, being plagued with horrible, ghastly dreams that would keep him awake through the night, leaving him absolutely haggard by morning. His father tried everything to help Oliver through this torment- counseling, medication, bedtime rituals- but nothing worked, and before long, Oliver’s beloved father was claimed by his nightmares, dying of a heart attack that he couldn’t stop. Alone and misunderstood by everyone who tried to raise him, Oliver ran away countless times, coming across Georgie during his last attempt. He found the little girl to also be on the run for similar reasons, but unlike him, she wasn’t the least bit afraid. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she wasn’t a bawling mess like he was. Together, the two of them struggled to survive, relying on kindhearted drifters for support while they avoided the police until, at long last, something took pity on them, that something being a large, fat tabby cat.

As it were, the tabby cat- dubbed The Admiral by Georgie- wasn’t a normal cat in the slightest, and although it couldn’t speak, it’s intentions were clear; it was there to help these lost, orphaned children. Oliver was skeptical of course, but Georgie wasn’t about to look a gift cat in the mouth, so Oliver reluctantly followed the cat and his little sister to an apartment building, and from there, into an unoccupied flat. Since then, the two children have been living with Admiral in that very same flat, the cat providing them with a fully stocked fridge, warm beds, and running water. It’s still unclear what the Admiral is, but he seems kind enough, and is obviously quite protective of his newfound children, accompanying them on their outings and occasional visits to the institute.

Michael Crew - Prodigy of The Vast

Out of all avatars to be raising children for their entity, Simon Fairchild absolutely has had the most fun with it all, treating it almost like a fun game or pastime. He was the first (save for the Lightless Flame having Agnes, of course) to “create” an avatar child, and from minute one he was overjoyed with the results. A few years after news broke of Agnes’ origins, and the followers of other entities were all arguing over whether or not to follow suit, Simon didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s input or permission, simply throwing himself into the deep end and praying he could make his plan work. Seemingly overnight, Simon somehow acquired a baby later identified as the missing and presumably dead infant Michael Crew, who he referred to as Mike when he finally introduced him to his friends/associates. He still hasn’t told anyone how he even got the kid- not even Peter or Elias know what he did!- but by some means, he illegally adopted Mike and took to raising the kid like a duck takes to water; a bit unsure at first, but growing to love it fast!

When Mike was introduced to the rest of the entity followers community, many were shocked (excuse the pun) to see that the infant had a long, frightening Lichtenberg scar running down his right arm, his back, and his right leg, the scars glowing a bright blue whenever he took to the sky or, as Elias learned the hard way after accidentally annoying Mike by bouncing him on his knee for too long when he was a toddler, used his powers to electrocute people. Even with his child being such an oddity, even among other avatars, Simon took it all in stride, proudly bragging about Mike to anyone who would listen, most of these people being victims of the Vast, who were hardly able to hear Simon’s excited rambling over their own shrieks of terror. He usually also insisted on bringing Mike with him, even when he was a mere infant, though he at least kept the kid in a tight harness on his chest. In all honesty, Simon being such an excited parent was what kick-started a lot of other avatars to start acquiring their own child avatars, as he made it look so easy!

However, things weren’t always perfect, especially on Mike’s end as he grew older. Being the eldest and more or less “firstborn” of this new generation of entity-made avatars put a lot of pressure on him at a very early age, pressure which Simon tried to help him deal with by not acknowledging it, which unfortunately didn’t help in the slightest. Thankfully Mike started to feel less unsure of his place in the world as he reached his teen years, seeing as the younger kids were now getting all the attention and giving him a chance to breathe. Even now that he’s an angsty teenager, Mike loves Simon like a father, referring to him as such without hesitation. This, of course, delights Simon to no end, and makes all his peers low-key high-key jealous of the awesome relationship he has with his son.

Helen Richardson - Droplet of The Spiral

Not much was known about Helen when Michael first found her. After being sent into The Spiral by Gertrude on what he thought to be a suicide mission for the greater good, Michael was half certain he wouldn’t find anything but his end in that place. Instead he found a small, strange toddler where he was meant to find… well, he didn’t actually know what, but certainly not a baby, that’s for sure! With no one watching baby Helen, and therefore making him believe that she had been abandoned by The Spiral’s other creations, Michael had no reservations against scooping her up and taking her back to the physical world with him, where he was met be a very confused Gertrude Robinson. Michael wasn’t exactly keen on killing/abandoning a baby after he got out, so he and Gertrude brought her back to London with them in hopes of finding out more about the odd child. Along the way, it became clear that the baby was gifted with The Spiral’s powers, the giggly toddler continually screwing with reality, though she wasn’t aware she was doing so.

Back home in London, it took another three weeks of research, but Gerry eventually found out more about the child Michael had more or less adopted. Her name was originally Helen Richardson, and her father, a rookie paranormal investigator who had once been marked by The Spiral, was obsessed with the distortion, and was willing to do anything to become more than simply marked by it. He ended up finding a map similar to Gertrude’s, and a few years before she even knew it was possible, the father went into The Spiral and used his own daughter as a vessel for the entity, hoping she would be a good enough sacrifice to earn it’s favor. This of course ended in disaster, with the father “disappearing” while Helen absorbed The Spiral’s power, but seeing as she was so young, it couldn’t manifest properly, even after two and a half years spent trying to “raise her” within the deepest depths of it’s domain.

With research still being done on what to do about the child, and whether or not the team can remove her powers without killing or permanently injuring her in the process, Michael has agreed to take Helen in, secretly delighted to be raising a baby. With the Stoker Brothers already under his roof, Michael has his hands rather full with them and baby Helen, but the boys take her antics in stride, having learned quickly how to deal with the apartment they live in occasionally “growing” some new doors and changing color at random. Luckily for Michael, he has back-up in the forms of Gerry and Gertrude, who occasionally take Helen and the brothers off his hands for him so he can take a break/fix whatever Helen may’ve accidentally broken with her powers.

Character Roles in this AU

(Feel free to add your own OCs/other characters if you wanna do stuff with this AU, I’m just naming characters I know about/remember!)

Avatar Kids: Jonathan “Jon” Sims, Martin Blackwood, Sasha James, Timothy “Tim” Stoker, Daniel “Danny” Stoker, Melanie King, Julia Montauk, Alice “Daisy” Tonner, Oliver Banks, Georgie Barker, Michael “Mike” Crew, and Helen Richardson.

Avatar Kids Semi-Reluctant PTA Group: Elias Bouchard, Gertrude Robinson, Peter Lukas, Gerard “Gerry” Keay, Trevor Herbert, Michael Shelley, and Simon Fairchild.

PTA Allies: Basira Hussain (Daisy’s best friend and the local Normal Child™), Agnes Montague (Everyone’s emergency number for avatar child advice), Alfred Grifter (Just shows up to hang out with Melanie and cause problems on purpose), The Admiral (Guardian to Georgie and Oliver and occasionally the other kids; best babysitter), Adelard Dekker (Comes around the archives sometimes and always brings presents for the kids + assistants), and Rosie (Elias’s assistant and the only sane and sensible adult in this Chili’s tonight).

PTA Enemies: Nikola Orsinov (Tim and Danny’s “Mom” who keeps kidnapping Jon on accident), Annabelle Cane (Hates the institute and wants Sasha back), Jude Perry (Hates the kids but loves Agnes; worst babysitter),  and Jared Hopworth (Nightmare flesh man that needs to fuck off; mediocre but funny babysitter).

Character Descriptions

(Feel free to tweak the physical designs if you want; I’m just going off my own headcanons, and seeing as my drawing skills are pretty shit, it’s not like I’m gonna be doing much art for this outside of writing. So yeah, go off with your own headcanons if you want to!)

Full Name: Jonathan “Jon” Sims-Bouchard-Robinson Age: 7 Birthday: October 26th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Eye, Marked by Literally Fucking Everything Guardian(s): Alexander Sims (Biological Father - Deceased), Delores Sims (Biological Mother - Deceased), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current), Elias Bouchard (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin, worryingly short for his age, dark brown eyes that glow bright green when he’s using his powers, long black hair with a few green and grey hairbands tied in, constantly “borrows” Martin’s sweaters to wear, occasionally wears skirts but most of the time he wears slacks, constantly looks sleep deprived, has a very intense stare, and occasionally he can be seen carrying his stuffed moth around. Personality: You’d think he’d be a quiet kid, considering his entity, but no, he has Questions and he wants them Answered, goddammit! He wasn’t raised around many kids his age, being home-schooled by Elias and Gertrude all his life, so he struggles to connect with the other avatar kids. Is only close to the S1 gang at first, but he gets closer to everyone else over time. Idolizes Gerry and thinks he’s the coolest guy ever. Appears rather cowardly at a glance, but he’s braver than most people give him credit for. Would die for his friends/family.

Full Name: Martin Blackwood-Lukas Age: 8 Birthday: February 29th (Pisces) ((This one’s for you, Dane)) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Lonely, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): William Blackwood (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Edna Blackwood (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Peter Lukas (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Polish heritage and pale as a fucking ghost, average height for his age but growing fast, pretty chubby, covered head to toe in little red freckles, short and curly red hair, bright brown eyes, wears big round glasses, wears sweaters and comfy trousers almost 24/7, carries a backpack full of “emergency tools” wherever he goes, usually has a cup of tea in-hand, and sometimes wears a small sailor hat that Peter gave him. Personality: Incredibly reserved, much like Mike, but he’s been trying to come out of his shell more. He’s “Best Friends Forever” with Jon, and gets along well with Tim and Sasha as well. Fears Melanie and Daisy. He likes hanging out with the other kids, but he often gets talked over, leading him to withdraw for awhile if it’s bad enough. Adores his dad, and is so much braver than anyone knows. Incredibly snarky when he feels like it.

Full Name: Sasha James Age: 10 Birthday: November 18th (Scorpio) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Web, Marked by The Eye, Marked by The Stranger Guardian(s): Francis James (Biological Father - Deceased), Patrick James (Biological Father - Deceased), Annabelle Cane (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gertrude Robinson (Adoptive Mother - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Caucasian with dark brown skin, slightly taller than average for her age, long dark brown hair, wears big round glasses, sometimes wears a little make-up if she can get away with it, wears a lot of turtleneck sweaters and long skirts, always has at least one cobweb on her, carries around a stuffed spider that she brings with her to the archives every day, and she wears a headband most of the time. Personality: Easily the most level-headed of the kids, as she’s been raised around paranormal stuff the longest and is rarely bothered by the stranger things that happen. She hates Artifact Storage with a passion, but other than that, she loves exploring the institute and occasionally stealing Gertrude’s laptop to mess with it. Very tech savvy, and even more curious! Incredibly smart, to the point that she can even outclass Gertrude and Gerry with her quick-wittiness.

Full Name: Timothy “Tim” Stoker Age: 12 Birthday: August 3rd (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Marked by The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Mother - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, slightly on the taller side for his age, messy/spiky black hair that looks impossible to comb, dark brown eyes, is described as a “handsome young man” by strangers, has a very charming smile, wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts and shorts (even during the winter), needs to wear glasses but he refuses to wear them in the archives out of self-consciousness. Personality: Probably one of the brightest personalities of the avatar kids, Tim comes off as very cool and funny, but underneath all of that he’s rather paranoid, afraid that the circus will come and force his baby brother into becoming a monster. Protective of his little bro and the archive kids, but he still teases them to no end. Smarter than he looks, and isn’t afraid to break his cool guy persona to tell someone off.

Full Name: Daniel “Danny” Stoker Age: 8 Birthday: August 1st (Leo) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Stranger, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Markus Stoker (Biological Father - Deceased), Olivia Stoker (Biological Mother - Deceased), Nikola Orsinov (Adoptive Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard “Gerry” Keay (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of Latino and Korean with dark tanned skin, about a head shorter than Tim, somewhat neat black hair that sticks up in odd places, eyes are impressively dark and glassy looking, slight gap between his front teeth, is described as being a “handsome young man” by strangers, wears a lot of tank tops and shorts as well as the occasional hoodie if it’s cold, and loves running around barefoot. Personality: A lot of people describe Danny as being a “smaller and cuter Tim”, but that’s just not true. Danny is a lot like his older brother in many ways, but he has a much more refined taste for adventure, constantly getting himself into trouble with Jon on the grounds of “exploring” or what have you. He idolizes his big bro to the moon and back, and loves hanging out with him alongside the other kids. More of a follower than a leader, but he doesn’t mind. Secretly fears the day that the circus will come back to make him into their future ringmaster.

Full Name: Melanie King Age: 9 Birthday: June 7th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Slaughter, Marked by The Corruption, Marked by The Desolation, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Boris King (Biological Father - Deceased), Carrie King (Biological Mother - Deceased), Alfred Grifter (Guardian - Uninvolved), Gerard Keay (Guardian - Current) Appearance: Irish heritage but not terribly pale, rather short for her age, incredibly thin from malnutrition, short brown hair with the ends dyed bright blue, bright brown eyes, brings her leather jacket and her guitar with her everywhere she goes, wears a lot of pink/blue skirts and band t-shirts, wears black leather boots, has a lot of bandages on her knees and knuckles, and always has a camera ready to record things. Personality: Melanie is probably the most disconnected of the avatar kids (save for Helen), seeing as she only just recently joined the group, but already she’s beginning to befriend Sasha and Basira. She’s very protective of the other girls, and she keeps challenging the boys to fight her (only Danny ever agrees; he always loses). Secretly idolizes Julia and Daisy, but will never admit it. She sees Gerry as her big bro and Alfred Grifter as her adoptive dad; she misses Alfred more than she let’s on. Would stab as a warning.

Full Name: Julia Montauk Age: 13 Birthday: April 19th (Aries) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunt, Marked by The Dark, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Robert Montauk (Biological Father - Deceased), Linette Montauk (Biological Mother - Deceased), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Indigenous heritage with dark tan skin, tall for her age, skinny enough to look malnourished, close-cropped red hair that gets her mistaken for a boy a lot, metal grey eyes, a scar runs diagonally across her right eye, often wears medium length skirts and oversized t-shirts, always wears athletic shoes, has a lot of scrapes and bandages on her knees most of the time, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Before the deaths of both of her parents, Julia was considered rather normal for her age, being interested in horses, dolls, and dress-up games. After her mother died, she became more tomboyish, which only became more extreme after her father’s death. Since being taken in by Trevor, Julia’s been trying to act more like an adult in an attempt to seem less vulnerable, to varying degrees of success. She adores Trevor to the moon and back, and sees Daisy as her little sister. A bit standoffish around other children, but she’s got a good heart.

Full Name: Alice “Daisy” Tonner Age: 10 Birthday: March 15th (Pisces) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Hunter, Marked by The Slaughter, Marked by The Eye Guardian(s): Greyson Tonner (Biological Father - Deceased), Antoinette Tonner (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Trevor Herbert (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Welsh heritage with cream colored skin and a light tan, average height for her age, short and shaggy blond hair, has a number of tiny scars all over her face and hands, has a huge scar on her back that Trevor has told her looks like a daisy, striking green eyes, wears a lot of sleeveless shirts and shorts, refuses to wear dresses or skirts, prefers to be barefoot, and has abnormally sharp canines. Personality: Is already rather hot-headed at her age, especially after her encounter with Calvin while he was being possessed by a spirit of the Slaughter. Even so, she’s protective of her newfound family of Trevor and Julia, and while she misses her mother, she believes it’s best if she stays where she is. She loves playing outside whenever she can, and will spend hours chasing after squirrels and rabbits if left alone for too long. A bit argumentative, but she gets along really well with Julia and Basira.

Full Name: Oliver Banks Age: 10 Birthday: June 14th (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): June Banks (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Isaac Banks (Biological Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark skin, has an array of pitch black freckles on his face, short and neat black hair that reaches just below his ears, ghastly grey eyes that look almost clear and turn black when he’s using his powers; used to be dark brown, worryingly thin from years of malnutrition, wears a lot of baggy and long-sleeved shirts, wears sweatpants, has boots on everywhere he goes, and he’s almost always shivering. Personality: The more distrustful of the “End Siblings”, the only person Oliver even sort of likes is Jon, and even then he’s still scared of him. Constantly fidgeting and yawning from both his paranoia and fatigue. Is protective of Georgie, but more out of obligation than friendship. Prefers to be alone, and rarely visits the archives. He knows something bad is coming, but he’s too scared to do much about it. In the end, he knows he’ll do the right thing, but for now he’s hiding until the bombs finally fall.

Full Name: Georgie Barker Age: 7 Birthday: December 9th (Sagittarius) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The End, Marked by The Hunt Guardian(s): Georgie Grounding Sr. (Biological Mother - Deceased), Sarah Grounding (Biological Mother - Deceased), Jason Barker (Adoptive Father - Deceased), The Admiral (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: Mixed race heritage of African and Indian with dark brown skin, fairly chubby, has an array of light brown freckles all over her arms, back, and face, has long and curly black hair done up in poofy buns using colorful hair bands, paints her nails all the time with different colors every week, cutest little smile you ever did see, wears a lot of ghost-related clothing (mainly t-shirts and jeans), and she brings her ghost backpack with her everywhere she goes (it has her stuffed leopard inside). Personality: Despite being an avatar of the End, Georgie has a very upbeat personality, having no time for her adoptive brother’s endless worrying and fearfulness. In fact, all her fear has been gone since she was little, so she’s never scared to explore something new and parade into danger! She’s very close friends with Jon (even if he’s distant sometimes) and best friends with Melanie, though she gets along with most everyone else as well. She may be a chipper person, but look out, she’s carrying more baggage than she let’s on. Loves The Admiral more than life.

Full Name: Michael “Mike” Crew Age: 14 Birthday: May 13th (Taurus) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Vast Guardian(s): Ramsey Crew (Biological Father - Uninvolved), Whitney Crew (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Simon Fairchild (Adoptive Father - Current) Appearance: Caucasian and pale as a ghost, shaggy white hair that’s almost always wind-swept, strikingly pale blue eyes, smells of ozone and burnt hair, incredibly short for his age, very bony and thin, tends to wear a lot of oversized hoodies on the grounds that they make flying more fun, clothes are almost always pristine and clean, his back, right arm, and right leg are covered in a Lichtenberg scar that glows bright blue when he’s using his powers, permanent bags under his eyes. Personality: A very, very quiet kid, at least around strangers. He’s much bubblier around Simon, but otherwise he’s viewed as an “old soul” by most adults. He does have a sense of humor though, taking a bit too much pleasure out of sending people soaring into the air against their will, especially if they insulted or annoyed him beforehand. Secretly a bit protective of the other avatar kids, and has been known to take them flying if they promise not to let go of him when they do so. Nice kid, but don’t make fun of his height or he might just electrocute you out of spite.

Full Name: Helen Richardson Age: 3 Birthday: February 23rd (Gemini) Entity/Mark(s): Avatar of The Spiral Guardian(s): Tiara Richardson (Biological Mother - Uninvolved), Dexter Richardson (Biological Father - Deceased), Michael Shelley (Adoptive Guardian - Current) Appearance: African heritage with dark brown skin (has the beginning patches of vitiligo on her face and hands), fairly chubby but Michael swears it’s just baby fat, has bright purple eyes with swirling yellow irises, has short but frizzy black hair that cannot be tamed, is often dressed in very colorful onesies and footie pajamas alongside the rare dress, and occasionally she’ll have a child leash vest on (though it often disappears because of The Spiral). Personality: She honestly doesn’t have much of a personality yet, being a toddler and all, but she’s a very giggly child, and loves nothing more than making Michael “be silly” with the use of her powers. Speaking of which, she has very little control of her abilities, and although she’s too young to understand their impact on the world, she still feels bad when she accidentally goes too far and gets Michael hurt. She adores Michael and Jon, and loves it when Michael brings her to the institute with him. Very playful and mischievous.

And that’s all I’ve got for now! I wanna write some fics for this at some point (particularly I wanna write a fic that has all of the kids’ origin stories in better/more detail), but for now anyone is free to fuck around with this AU, so long as you’re not doing too much shipping between the kids (hints at ships are fine, but they’re still kids, y’all) and ESPECIALLY not any shipping of the kids with the adults/guardians. Feel free to PM me or scream about this AU in the notes/tags; I’d love to hear people’s thoughts!

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

On a Tuesday in the middle of November, not long after Gerry's 28th birthday, the three of them eat dinner at Gerry's flat, as they often do these days. Jon cooks for them and after, Martin and Gerry wash the dishes and debate the book they both just finished reading.

Jon has been twitchy all evening, so they leave him to read his own book in peace.

He wanders in at one point, leaning against the counter. "Gerry, do you know what day it is?"

Gerry looks over at him in such a way as to indicate that he really doesn't.

"Our six-month anniversary?" He tries.

"No," Martin pipes up, "That's not for weeks yet."

Jon and Gerry both look at him askance. "What? Your boyfriend starts dating another man, you remember the date. I can't believe you two don't know." Martin says as if that about covers it.

"Nevermind that." Jon snaps, and even with his previous moodiness, the others are taken aback at his blunt words and even harsher tone.

"Something wrong, Jon?" Gerry asks quietly, leaning against the opposite counter to Jon and crossing his arms. His tone suggests what he actually wanted to say was 'Do we have a problem here, bitch?' but he manages to reign the actual words in.

"I want to know why you left without saying goodbye." Jon's words are filled with a multitude of frustrations, none of which are actually conveyed in his limited words.

"Yesterday?" Gerry asks, incredulous. "You were asleep!"

"No! Not yesterday." Jon snaps back. "When we were younger. It's been ten years today since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Oh," Gerry responds quietly, his defensive posture dropping. He leans his hands back on the table behind him, bringing his shoulders up around his ears. It’s a rare display of confident, edgy Gerry trying to shrink himself.

"I thought we were, you know. Together. Then one day you were just gone! As if you had never existed. Your mother wouldn't tell me anything at all, just sat there smirking at me, said that you were gone and she didn't know when you were coming back, or if you were ever coming back. Which you never did, actually." Jon has been pacing, his voice rising with each new word until the final words are shouted accusatorily into the space between them.

Gerry knew Jon had wanted to talk about this since the day he walked in the library and back into his life. He had waited, been patient, and Gerry had put it off in the hopes that he would never have to choke the words out. Now, that patience was obviously over, and he knew he owed Jon this explanation.

"We were together Jon. I loved you."

"So why? What did I do so wrong, that I got to wake up one day and find you gone ?" Jon's voice has become desperate, and they can all hear the tears that he is trying to hold back.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. We weren't perfect, but we were always so good together. I... I had to get out of there. And I couldn't leave any clues behind, so I couldn't tell you anything, because it wouldn't have been safe for either of us." Gerry reaches towards Jon to soothe him, but he flinches away and Gerry doesn't pursue him.

"I don't understand." The tears have come, and Gerry desperately tries to hold back his own when he sees them.

Martin had up until that point been standing resolutely in the corner, trying not to interfere in their pre-Martin argument. At the advent of tears, Martin moves to stand at Jon's back, gripping his shoulder for comfort. Gerry looks bereft and Martin holds out a hand to get him to come closer as well. They huddle all together, both Jon and Gerry taking comfort in Martin's steadiness.

Gerry leans into Jon, sliding his hand around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, love. I've never forgiven myself for just disappearing on you. I thought about you every day."

"I love you," Jon whispers as Martin rocks them both gently. "But I need to know."

"I love you too." Gerry shuts his eyes and wishes more than ever to erase his shitty legacy of pain and blood.

*

Martin drags them to bed and offers to leave them alone to their talk.

"Please stay," Gerry says, grasping his hand. "You both need to know, and I don't want to have to talk through this twice."

So they all pile into Gerry's bed together, sitting in a vague circle like teenagers at a slumber party.

As Gerry starts to talk, Martin drags him over toward him and begins braiding his dark blue hair. It's both an offer of physical comfort and affection (easily Gerry's main love language) and a simple way of letting him off the hook for eye contact.

With Jon staring at him quite intently, Martin doesn't think he needs any further pressure.

"Jon, you-" He starts and then halts abruptly. Jon reaches over and grasps his hand, attempting to further ground him. "You remember my mother. I know you saw how, how just off she was. Manipulative and controlling. By turns demanding and completely uninterested in me. One day I would be free to run wild for weeks at a time, the next she would have a meltdown if I wasn't exactly where she wanted me, every second of the day and night." Gerry blows a breath out, shuddering at the memory of a particularly bad incident with a vase that had left him needing several stitches over his left eye.

"Well, she wasn't always like that. I remember her being a pretty good mom when I was young, if distant. She was always far more interested in being a wife than a mother, and she loved the way my father adored her.

“When I was 7, my father was blinded in an accident at work. I remember the day the phone call came. She spoke very calmly to the hospital, before hanging up the phone and shattering every picture frame in the house." Martin is finished with Gerry's hair and simply leans into him, offering silent comfort. "He coped okay with his new disability actually, and I liked helping him learn the world again with no sight. My mother never recovered from her initial breakdown though. She was angry and petulant that she needed to help and support him for the first time in their entire relationship and became more and more unhinged over the course of a year.

"One day I came home from school to find a puddle of blood soaked into the floor of the living room. She said there had been an accident and my father wasn't coming back. She hit me for the first time when I cried. She told me that I was a man now, and tears were for useless girls and disgusting… Well, you get the picture."

Gerry pauses and glances between them. A few tears have started to run down his face, but he doesn't seem to even notice them.

"We moved a few days later, and that was all I ever knew about my father's death until I was eighteen, almost ten years later. I'll spare you the horrid details, but as I'm sure you've already guessed, she murdered him. She explained very, very graphically what she had done with the body, and that she would never be caught, no one would ever think to blame her, even if anyone could ever prove that he was dead at all."

The words hang heavy in the air between the three of them. Gerry feels the comfort of their touches, but can hardly stand the affection anymore. He gets up off the bed and goes to look out the bedroom window, arms crossed and posture hard.

"Then she looked me right in the eye. And she told me that was exactly what would happen to Jon if she ever caught me with him again."

Dead, cold silence fills the room.

Gerry turns back around to find them both watching him. "So, I packed whatever I could fit into my duffle bag, and I got the hell out of dodge. I ran. I ran because I couldn't close my eyes at night with seeing your face white and cold and covered in blood and," he breaks off and takes a shuddering breath, covering his eyes and sinking to his knees. "And I couldn't stand that she would hurt you because of me. That all your light and potential would be ripped away from you in blood and pain and nothing I felt for you could make even the risk of that worthwhile."

He lifts his head to look up at them, where they’ve moved to the side of the bed towards him. “And do you want to know what the worst part is, actually? I can’t get over the idea that even though I haven’t seen Mary Keay in 10 years, the ghost of her demons lives inside of me. That I'm really just… Her. That one day my mind will snap and I'll be a danger to you both and I'll be the one hurting you, just like she hurt him. And then I'll just be the same monster who has always haunted my dreams."

Martin and Jon exchange a heavy look. They can scarcely believe that Gerry had endured so much and yet is still… Gerry. Happy, flirtatious, loving Gerry. Gerry, who fills their lives with colour and spontaneity, always showing up when they least expected him, pushing himself into their gravity and asking for space in their lives.

Despite the rather violent nature of Gerry's confession, it doesn't change anything for either of them. Things are not yet settled between them, but they curl around Gerry on the floor and they cry together over shattered innocence and sacrificed futures, and Jon promises himself that he will never let Mary Keay come between him and Gerry ever again.

[ollieofthebeholder]

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

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 42: Sasha

Tim’s going to wear a hole in the floor of Rosie’s office if he’s not careful, Sasha thinks, pacing back and forth like this. Rosie watches him with undisguised interest. Martin watches too, his face pinched with concern and arms folded tightly over his chest, although Sasha doesn’t know if he’s more worried about Tim or Jon or both. She probably could Know, with a little effort, but she decides it doesn’t matter right then. She also doesn’t want to pry into her friends’ heads like that.

God, she wants a shower. She feels like she’s covered in some sort of thin, viscous oil, soaking into her skin and making her itch all over. Like just being in proximity to Elias Bouchard makes her dirty.

The worst of it is, he’s not wrong, exactly. Not about her, anyway.

She wonders if he regrets choosing Jon now. He’ll never admit it out loud, of course, but if it’s true that the only reason he chose Jon was because Jon was already marked by the Web, he must be looking at the four of them and wondering if she would have collected more marks faster had she been in charge.

You’re like Gertrude, she thinks idly, staring at the closed door between Rosie’s office and Elias’. She never hesitated to use the people around her, even the ones she cared about, if it served her purpose…

She blinks. Where did that come from?

She turns her attention from the door to Tim, his shoes squeaking on the floor as he turns at the end of his nineteenth cross of the office. Resolutely shutting the Eye out—which is a lot harder than it is anywhere else, and she wonders if that’s because the Head’s office is the locus of its power or just because she’s a little frayed right now—she studies his face and tries to decide if he’s angry or upset or some combination of the two. He definitely looks like he’s close to tears, but she can’t tell if it’s from frustration or from rage…or maybe guilt.

There’s guilt mingled with the worry in Martin’s eyes, too, and Sasha doesn’t need the Beholder to know why. I thought I heard you telling Jon you…smote it. Probably what Martin actually said was Jon Prime smote it and Elias, thankfully, didn’t hear properly or wasn’t paying enough attention. Or he can’t actually hear, per se, he just reads the lips of those around him and pieces it together from there. After all, he has Jonah Magnus’ eyes, not his ears or his tongue.

Still. They’ve got to be more careful.

Tim is passing the door for the twentieth time when it opens and Jon steps out, shutting it behind him with a tad unnecessary force. He looks tired and upset and slightly cranky—in fact, he looks exactly like he did the first few weeks in the Archives, when he was trying to be professional and irritated, or pretending to be irritated, at everything Martin did. Martin and Tim both start towards him, then stop, probably out of deference to Rosie’s presence.

“Let’s go,” he says shortly. “We have work to do.”

The other three fall into step behind him, like something of an honor guard. Fortunately, the only person they encounter on the way down to the Archives is Manal, who offers them a tentative smile as they pass and seems relieved when Martin, at least, automatically returns it. They reach the Archives without a word being spoken and cluster around the assistants’ desks, all of them seemingly at a loss for words.

Tim finally breaks the silence. “Now what?”

Jon looks down at his feet. Sasha thinks he’s embarrassed or ashamed or something until he says softly, “I hate to ask, but could one of you run home and get me some shoes?”

Sasha glances down, startled. She’s not sure how it didn’t occur to her that Jon is barefoot, but he doesn’t even have a pair of socks shielding his feet from the ground. Walking around the Institute is probably only possible because of the diligence of the cleaning crew, but no way will he be able to make it home if Tim didn’t drive today, unless the other two carry him. And his feet must be cold.

Martin and Tim exchange looks. Sasha doesn’t have to be able to read minds to know that neither of them really wants to be away from Jon right now. Rather than force either of them into martyrdom, she says, “If one of you will lend me your keys, I’ll do it.”

The surprise on Tim and Martin’s faces is only equaled by the sheer gratitude on Jon’s, which makes Sasha realize that I hate to ask didn’t mean I hate to impose but rather I don’t want either one of you out of my sight right now. Instead of commenting on it, she just holds out her hand.

Martin recovers first, reaches under his shirt, and pulls out a well-worn lanyard that was probably once a vibrant neon rainbow with a key on the end. He lays it in her hand. “Thanks, Sash.”

“Sure.” Sasha loops the lanyard around her hand and smiles. “Be right back.”

The sun is making a pathetic attempt to come out, but for the most part, it’s the same as it’s been all day. There aren’t many people about, which is probably a good thing, because Sasha uses the opportunity to test the range of her Knowing ability—seeing how far away from someone she can be and still pluck a secret from their minds. It’s extremely invasive, which Martin will probably ream her out for when he finds out, and it’s feeding into the Eye, which Tim will probably ream her out for, and honestly both of them should. But she does it anyway. Partly because she’s hoping that if she does it, she won’t have so much of an urge to read her friends’ minds—it seems ruder to steal from them than from strangers, and she knows that’s not a good sign—but mostly because it keeps her mind off of thinking too hard about Jon’s current state, or what Elias might have said to him when they weren’t there, or the implications of Martin still wearing a single key around his neck the way he probably did when he was a small child left to fend for himself by a father who cared too much and a mother who didn’t care at all.

Despite the fact that she’s still wearing kitten heels and a pencil skirt, she manages to get to the house, retrieve a pair of shoes from Jon’s room, and get back to the Archives in about forty-five minutes. She enters to find Jon sitting on the edge of Martin’s desk, cradling a steaming mug of tea; Tim sits backwards in his chair, arms folded and chin resting on them, while Martin sits more or less normally. They’re talking quietly, but break off and look up when Sasha comes in.

“Hope these are actually yours,” Sasha says, handing Jon the pair of trainers she brought and a pair of socks. “Everything in the closet looked too small for them. And here’s your key back, Martin.”

“Thanks.” Martin slips the lanyard around his neck and tucks it under his sweater again.

“Martin and Tim have just been catching me up on your research for the last two weeks,” Jon tells her, setting down his mug and contorting to put on the socks. “I—I am sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Not like you asked to get kidnapped,” Sasha points out. “And it’s not like you haven’t made sure we know our jobs.”

Jon snorts. “Tell that to Elias. He seems to think you need…guidance.”

Tim’s eyes spark. “He said that, did he?”

Sasha purses her lips in thought for a moment. There’s a lot they need to discuss, but they’ll never be able to be sure, now, that they aren’t being watched. She knows it takes effort for Elias to actually see what’s going on in the Archives, and she’s pretty sure that up until now he’s mostly focused on Jon and ignored the other three, but she doubts that’s the case any longer. Unless they can time their talks with his schedule, to be sure he doesn’t have the attention to spare them…

Curiosity, a desire to experiment, overcomes caution for a minute, and she casts her mind up into the Institute, reaching for that buzzing feeling she gets when there’s a secret to be known. And she aims it at Elias’ office. She doesn’t expect it to work, not really, but—

Ah.

Sasha gasps. Her knees buckle with the sudden rush of energy leaving her, and she catches herself on the edge of the desk. Tim and Martin both jump to their feet, but she waves them off. “Fine. I’m fine.”

She had it. Just for a second, a momentary brush, a quick surface skim, withdrawn hastily before his attention can be caught and focused, but she actually did it. She’s amazed at her own audacity and astonished at her good luck…and aware that, while she still has to be wary of the information she just obtained, there’s a good chance it’s accurate.

“Tunnels?” she suggests, pointing at the trapdoor. They may not have time for a longer discussion.

Thankfully, the boys don’t object or question her. Jon finishes tying his shoes and slides off the desk, and the four of them hasten down the steps to the tunnels. Sasha gets the usual queer, dizzy feeling of being cut off from the Eye—worse than usual, but then, she is pushing the boundaries of her abilities—but it’s a relief for once, because it does at least mean Elias isn’t watching them.

At the foot of the steps, she stops and turns to look back at the others. “Sorry for being so abrupt, but we didn’t have much time. I figured you could get their statement down here without Elias overhearing, and…we can talk.”

“Probably wise,” Jon admits. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Bit tired.” Sasha isn’t about to admit that she needs Tim and Martin’s statement, probably as much as Jon does. Not yet. “Come on, let’s see if the Primes are awake.”

She leads them to the room the Primes usually stay in and knocks on the door. “It’s us. Are you decent?”

“Come in,” Jon Prime’s voice calls back.

Sasha pushes the door open. They’ve obviously been having breakfast, which Sasha almost feels guilty for interrupting, but it does appear they’re almost done. Jon Prime looks wary. “Is everything all right?”

“Yep. Look what the cat dragged in.” Unable to hold back a grin, Sasha steps into the room and out of the way, exposing Jon.

Jon Prime makes a noise somewhere between surprise and relief. In an instant, he’s up and wrapping Jon in a hug. Jon looks momentarily startled, then hugs him back.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t—I couldn’t See you.” Jon Prime takes a half-step back and studies Jon anxiously. “Are you—never mind, I know how you’ll answer that. How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Jon answers. “On edge. Scared to hell and gone. You know, the usual.” He pauses. “But glad to be back.”

At the sound of Jon’s voice, Martin Prime smiles, looking relieved, and gets to his feet. Jon’s a little more hesitant to accept his hug, to Sasha’s eyes, but he does anyway. “When did you get back?”

“Oh—an hour ago? Hour and a half?” Jon shrugs. “Two at most. Michael—well, not Michael anymore. Michael tried to kill me but couldn’t…I’m sure you know that story.”

“Intimately,” Jon Prime confirms. “So Helen took over, did she?”

“Yes. Brought me back to the Archives.” Jon sighs heavily. “I had maybe five minutes of peace to enjoy being home and—and safe before Elias called us up to his office.”

Martin Prime’s smile melts immediately. “What did he want?”

“To be a smug bastard,” Tim says.

Jon Prime looks from one to the other. “Why don’t you explain?”

“No need.” Sasha leans over and reaches into Jon’s pocket. Before he can do more than flinch, she pulls out her tape recorder and waves it at them with a smirk. “Say hello to my little friend.”

“What—how did you—” Jon stares at it.

“I still had it on hand from lunch. Didn’t end up using it, the guy didn’t have anything helpful, he just wanted an excuse to flirt, so I knew there was nothing on it. I figured if Elias talked to anyone alone, it would be you, so I slipped it in your pocket just before we went in. Just, you know, in case we needed evidence later. Figured if it was important, whatever’s behind these things would switch it on.” Sasha peers through the window at the tape. “Looks like I was right.”

“You, Sasha James, are positively devious.” Tim’s slight frown indicates he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Sasha starts the tape rewinding. “While we wait for this to spool back, Jon, do you want to try and get their statement about Friday? You know, so Elias doesn’t find out about these two?”

Martin Prime tilts his head to one side, then turns and hesitantly reaches out with a foot, kicking something hard and plastic on the floor. “I think that’s a yes.”

Sure enough, a battered tape recorder sits and waits. Jon sighs and nods. “Can’t hurt, I suppose.”

They settle down in a lopsided circle, and Jon Prime slides the tape recorder over so it sits between Jon, Tim, and Martin. Jon takes a deep breath. “Statement of Martin Blackwood and Tim Stoker, Archival assistants at the Magnus Institute, regarding the thing that was not Diana Caxton. Recorded direct from subjects—” He hesitates.

Sasha realizes Jon has probably lost track of time. Softly, Martin says, “Seventh of March, 2017.”

“Statement begins.” Jon takes Martin’s hand on one side and Tim’s on the other. “Whenever you think you’re ready.”

It’s so much more than the bare-bones description they gave her first thing that morning, and Sasha listens intently, her own recorder forgotten. Martin’s remembered fear—for himself, for Tim, for the two students—is an almost tangible thing, like hot liquid running down her throat, filling her. When Tim describes Jon Prime overpowering the Not-Diana, it suddenly gets so much more intense. Her whole body thrums with energy.

It’s intoxicating.

“Statement ends,” Jon says, once Tim falls silent. He squeezes their hands tightly, seemingly without being aware he’s doing it. “God.”

“Yeah,” Martin agrees. “It was—it was a lot.”

“I’m impressed you managed to not tell Elias about any of that when he asked,” Jon mutters.

“Well, I mean, I didn’t lie. Not really. I did have my eyes closed the whole time, so it’s not like I saw any of that.” Martin cocks his head at Tim. “And we didn’t really talk about it over the weekend or anything.”

“I spent most of it passed out,” Tim tells Jon. “All that…it took a lot out of me. We ended up listening to one of the tapes—uh, it was Mr. Skinner’s statement, about the forest in Wales, actually.”

“I suppose it was inevitable,” Jon Prime murmurs. “I am sorry, Tim. I didn’t—I’ve never been around anyone else with Beholding powers, not really, so I had no idea how me using them would affect any of you.”

“It didn’t affect Martin,” Tim points out. “It’s just because mine relies on being able to see the marks and the—I guess it’s the power of the fears, too. There was just so much energy being drawn on, and I was so strung out I couldn’t stop it. Honestly, I don’t normally—we’re cut off from the Eye down here, I didn’t think my abilities would work.”

“I should have warned you that they do. Just…not always as well. They’re a bit easier to control, I suppose.” Jon Prime runs a hand through his hair. “Are you all right now?”

“Yeah,” Tim says softly, but he’s looking at Jon, not at Jon Prime, and Sasha knows with a surety that has nothing to do with the Beholder that he can only say that because Jon’s back. The expression on Martin’s face says the same. He clears his throat and adds, “Like I said, I spent most of the weekend sleeping. We took it easy on Sunday.”

Martin nods. “We were mostly okay today. Little bit of a headache when Helen brought Jon back, but that wasn’t so bad, really. Not…you know, not like actually being in those corridors.”

Jon shudders. “God, that was…”

Martin Prime hums in agreement. “Trust me, not being able to see it doesn’t make it that much better.”

Jon Prime wraps his arm around Martin Prime’s shoulder; Martin Prime responds in kind, and the two lean into each other, as if they know they’re going to need the strength from one another in a moment. “Sasha, has that tape rewound all the way yet?”

Sasha starts. She’s honestly forgotten about it, but glancing down, she sees that all the buttons are popped out. “Oh! Yes, it’s—it’s ready. Are you?”

“As we’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Sasha pushes the PLAY button and slides the recorder to the middle of the circle, and their boss’s smooth, oily voice oozes into the room. As the conversation continues, she watches the Primes’ faces. Jon Prime goes steadily more ashen, while Martin Prime’s goes from red to purple to nearly black. Tim and Martin are largely silent, but when they get to the part none of them were in the office for, all the color drains out of Martin’s face and Tim covers his mouth with his free hand and turns away.

The tape clicks off. There’s a moment of silence before Martin Prime chokes out, “That bastard.”

“God,” Jon Prime whispers. “I never—I didn’t—” He closes his eyes and turns his head, half-burying his face in Martin Prime’s chest. The simple movement seems to drain a lot of the rage out of Martin Prime; the color recedes in a blotchy fashion from his cheeks, and he wraps both arms around Jon Prime, cradling him protectively. It almost makes Sasha smile—Jon Prime is objectively one of the most powerful beings in the world, and Martin Prime still feels like he needs to protect him, or even like he can. Then again, from the way Jon Prime curls into him, it’s pretty clear that Jon Prime feels that way, too. “He never directly threatened any of you. Not to me. I-I don’t think he—when he told me to consider people things to be used, it wasn’t to my face. It never occurred to me that he might have hurt you to get me to comply.”

“Jon, why do you think he dangled me as bait in front of Peter Lukas?” Martin Prime sounds bitter and angry, but he softens when Jon Prime flinches against him. “Of course he knew you cared. It’s why he told you not to bring Tim to the Unknowing, because he knew that would spur both of you into letting Tim go, and he could play on your guilt over whatever happened after. Everything he did, at every turn, was directly targeted at getting you to step up and get marked, because he knew you would do anything to save us.” He sighs heavily. “I just—never expected to hear him say it.”

Tim snorted. “I should have just shot him when I had the chance.”

“No,” Sasha and Jon Prime say in unison, Jon Prime’s head jerking off Martin Prime’s shoulder, eyes wide with fear.

“You believe him, then?” Jon says quietly. “He really is—killing him will kill all of us, too?”

“I still can’t Know that,” Jon Prime admits. “But—it’s not a risk I would want to take. Not until—I mean, we have a plan. It just…needs work. I think. But I’m still not sure if killing him would actually trigger some sort of supernatural dead-man switch.”

Sasha shifts a bit. The urge to keep her secrets is still strong—but Elias’ taunt rings in her ears, and she knows she has to push past that. She can’t be what he expects her to be. What he groomed her to be, in a sense.

“Actually,” she says, “according to my research, it won’t.”

Five heads snap around to look at her in surprise. Martin Prime is the one to finally speak. “What do you mean?”

Sasha smiles mischievously. Now that she’s said the first part, the idea of sharing the rest of it seems…positively gleeful. Because in a way, it’s spilling a secret Jonah Magnus thought could never be known. “I’ve been looking in to the heads of the Institute, you know that. Trying to figure out how he picked his successors, what the criteria were for it, that sort of thing. And the one that bothered me most was Thomas Fitzwalter, the fourth Head. He was only in charge for a few months—he became head of the Institute in September of 1940, then was killed in a bomb attack in March of 1941. It always struck me as odd that the Eye didn’t warn him about the bomb.”

“It can’t really see the future,” Jon Prime says, but he sounds a bit uncertain.

“No, I know that, but then I learned something else interesting. The previous head of the Institute, Virgil Warrington, was found dead in his office, by Fitzwalter, who just sort of assumed the position of Head because nobody else really wanted it at that time.” Sasha runs a finger over the edge of her tape recorder. “It took me a while to find the details. I mean, it was the middle of the Blitz, there was a lot going on, and obviously it was a lot easier to bury details and destroy records back then than it is now. But—well, I actually got Basira and Daisy involved. I didn’t tell them why, obviously, but I’d mentioned to Basira what I was looking into, and it turns out she really likes that sort of stuff. And since she’s not police anymore, I reckon she needed a project, something to focus on to keep from going mad. Anyway, point is, they were able to find a police report that escaped destruction, deliberate or otherwise, and it turns out Warrington didn’t die of heart failure or a stroke or anything. I mean, it was probably what they told people, he was quite elderly, but…”

“But?” Jon prompts.

Sasha’s grin broadens. “He was murdered. Shot, actually. According to the report, it was a Luger P308, which was a primarily German model, so the official unofficial report is that he was probably killed by a fifth column agent. But there was never any evidence, any proof. Even the type of gun used—they didn’t exactly do ballistics reports at the time, they would have just said he was shot with some kind of pistol. The information on the exact model came from Thomas Fitzwalter.”

“So you think—” Tim begins.

“I think he killed Virgil Warrington. Who knows, maybe he was a German spy. Maybe he killed Warrington because the Germans had decided that the knowledge in the Institute was too dangerous to be allowed, or because Fitzwalter figured out that Warrington could read minds, or maybe Warrington tried to blackmail him knowing Fitzwalter was a spy and Fitzwalter killed him to keep him from talking.” Sasha’s mind is racing, and she’s getting more and more excited as she talks. “Or Fitzwalter was exactly who he seemed to be and just got frustrated and angry with Warrington, or the whole situation. It’s probably telling that Thomas Fitzwalter, before he became the Head, was actually an Archival assistant.”

“Which means he was trapped, too,” Martin says, realization dawning in his eyes.

“Mm-hmm. But anyway, my theory is that Fitzwalter killed Warrington, and since he was the only one around, Jonah Magnus’ eyes…somehow got transferred into Fitzwalter’s head. I don’t know how that works.” Sasha looks quizzically at Jon Prime.

“I don’t know, either, and I have no desire to,” Jon Prime says, running a hand over his eyes. “But—that’s actually not a bad theory. And you think that’s why he didn’t last long?”

Sasha nods. “Yes. I think Fitzwalter wasn’t his choice for a successor, Richard Mendelson was, but Fitzwalter was there when he died, so the transfer was automatic. And for whatever reason, he couldn’t just do the transfer from there to Mendelson. Maybe he just wanted it to look natural. Which means he probably did know the bomb was about to hit, and he deliberately held back from going into a shelter.”

Tim looks like he’s about to be sick. “So if I had shot him…”

“He’d have claimed one of us as his new body. Don’t know which. I don’t know if he can direct it with that few people in the room or if it’s just whoever is nearest or what.” Sasha digs her fingernails into her palms to keep herself grounded. Trying to pluck that from their boss’s brain probably won’t work, and it will be far too risky anyway. It might overload her own brain to the point of killing her, and the surge of power might hurt the others, too. But oh, she almost hurts with the desire to try.

“But nobody else would have died.”

“I doubt that,” Martin Prime says. There’s still residual anger in his voice. “If you’re right, then no, he’s not a literal dead-man switch. I’ve kind of had my doubts about that anyway, ever since Jon mentioned that Archival assistants can leave if the Archivist dies. Especially since staff outside the Archives can quit. Nobody is actually bound to the Institute. Most of the staff can come and go as they please, and the Archival assistants are bound to the Archivist, or maybe to the Archives. Doesn’t quite matter, they’re technically the same thing. But killing Elias probably wouldn’t cause a—a mass extinction event or anything. Especially if Fitzwalter murdering Warrington didn’t wipe out the whole Institute staff in one go.” He takes a deep breath. “But you really think Jonah Magnus would have let the rest of you live? Especially if he gets the memories of whichever body he inhabits? You’d all know too much. Plans or no plans, you’d have to die.”

Jon Prime inhales sharply and covers his mouth with one hand. “Oh, God.”

Jon shakes his head firmly. “No. Absolutely not. Not happening. I won’t let it.”

“It won’t,” Martin assures him. His face is paper-white, every freckle and scar in stark relief, but his voice is firm. “Because we’re not going to test this theory, right, Sasha?”

Sasha flinches, but honestly, she’s glad Martin knows her well enough to call her out on it. “I…might need some redirection if I start getting antsy, but no. No testing it. Maybe once he’s dead we can find out for sure.”

“Can you kill him, though?” Tim asks. “Without…you know, getting possessed?”

“I—I think so. It’s—we have to kill Jonah Magnus as well as Elias Bouchard. Or at least Elias Bouchard’s body,” Jon Prime adds, his voice soft and a little ragged. He leans more into Martin Prime, who gathers him somehow even closer and rests his chin on the top of his head. “I don’t know how much of the original Elias is left, if anything. I think destroying his eyes ought to do it.”

“So, what, stab him with a couple screwdrivers through the eyeballs, Jonah Magnus dies and Elias Bouchard is free?” Tim swallows. “I can try that.”

“He won’t let you get close enough to do that,” Jon Prime says. “Even if you all master the ability to hide things from him completely, he’ll never let you within arm’s length. The gun would have been your best bet, but you’d have had to shoot both eyes out instantly.”

Tim shakes his head. “I’m not nearly that good of a shot.”

Jon worries at his lower lip. “I think we need help with that. W-with learning to hide things from him, I mean. We’re trying, and I think we put him off a bit, but…the more we learn, the more I’m worried we’re going to let something slip and the whole thing will be up. I-if he finds out about the two of you…”

“The whole thing goes awry,” Jon Prime completes.

“I’m more worried about what he might do to the two of you. I know you can handle yourself,” Jon adds quickly, “but if he catches you off-guard, you might not have a chance. O-or if he…I don’t know, floods the tunnels with gas or something. I just—I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

He says this last bit so softly that it probably wouldn’t be audible at all if the tunnels didn’t echo. From the look he gives Tim and Martin, Sasha is willing to bet that he’s thinking about how he would feel if either of them got hurt because of him, and how much worse it would be for one of the Primes to lose the other now.

For just a moment, Sasha wonders what it’s like to feel that way about someone else. She knows what it’s like to care, of course, she’s fond of Jon and Martin and Tim, and the Primes. She’s beginning to rather like Basira as well. And there’s her Uncle Wade, who was the one constant in her life for years and for whom she’d do just about anything. But the kind of bond the Primes have, or that it’s becoming increasingly clear her boys have, is beyond her. She’s long over the oh my God do people really feel like this attitude she took towards sappy love stories in her secondary-school days, she understands the concept of romance, but she’s also long ago realized that it’s not something she’s ever going to experience herself. And, honestly, she doesn’t feel like she’s missing anything. Usually.

But right now…right now she almost wishes she could experience that. She’s not sure how much of it is clinical curiosity and how much of it is an actual desire for herself. It doesn’t change the fact that she almost wants, just once, to look at someone the way Martin is looking at Jon right now and know what that feels like.

“I’ll do my best,” Jon Prime says, and it actually takes Sasha a second to remember what they’re talking about. “It’s mostly instinct, though, so I can’t make any promises. But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask. Anything to—” Jon breaks off and tightens his hands around Tim and Martin’s. “Anything we can do.”

“Not right now,” Sasha says, looking around the room. “I don’t think any of you are up for it right now. You all look knackered, especially you, Jon.”

“Yes, but I don’t know if we can risk coming down here again any time soon. He’s going to be watching us for a while, I’m sure.” Jon sighs. “He probably knows we’re down here now.”

“No, we’re safe. He had to take a phone call from Peter Lukas and that had his attention,” Sasha tells him. “If we knew his schedule, we could work around it. I bet it’s all in the computer.”

Martin Prime frowns in Sasha’s direction. “The phone call wouldn’t have been. How did you—Sasha. You didn’t.”

“I just wanted to see if I could,” Sasha says, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “I didn’t think it would actually work. I mean, I was sort of practicing on the walk when I went to get Jon’s shoes, to see how far away from someone I had to be in order to get their secrets, and Elias’ office is kind of at the edge of my range, plus there are so many walls in the way—”

“Sasha.” Jon sounds upset, almost scared.

“I know. I shouldn’t have done any of that, but—” Sasha sighs. “It’s like I told Tim and Martin earlier. It’s happening more and more without me trying, and it’s harder and harder for me to stop it.”

“God, was that only today?” Martin murmurs. “Feels like forever ago.”

Martin Prime’s mouth flattens into a thin line, but it’s Jon Prime who speaks. “Trust me when I say that at this point, you can stop it. You just have to want to. It’s an addiction, Sasha, just like any other kind, but that’s only for now. The more you lean into it, the more it will progress beyond that and into an actual, literal need. And when you get to that point, you won’t be able to stop. And it won’t be easy to subsist on what’s…acceptable. I-I have a hard time living on nothing but old statements.”

Sasha squirms a bit guiltily. Jon takes a deep, careful breath. “Sasha, if you promise you’re just going to look in the system—”

“I promise.” Sasha means it, with every fiber of her being.

“Then…okay. I think you’re right. I don’t know that I’m up to much right now.” Jon looks down at his lap. “I got a statement off of Michael before—well, before—and then this on top of it…I’m a bit overwhelmed. And I could use a good night’s sleep.” He sighs heavily. “Besides, we’ve got to try and dig up Gertrude’s notes. Anything she had going about the Unknowing. I-it’s not that…I know we know what you’ve told us, but we have to—”

“No, I understand,” Jon Prime assures him. “You might start with her laptop. It’s hidden in your office. You’ll know where to look, I think.”

Jon looks up, then slowly smiles. “I think I have an idea.” The smile droops slightly, and he adds, “But that can wait for tomorrow. Today, I think we—we call it a day early. Go get a drink or something. After all, what’s Elias going to do—fire us?”

“That sounds good,” Martin says. “Will you two be all right?”

“We’ll be fine. We’ll see what we can unearth that might be helpful for you tonight,” Jon Prime says. “Go. Get some rest. You deserve it.”

“Be careful,” Martin Prime says.

He’s still looking in Sasha’s direction, more than at any of the others. And as she pushes herself up from the floor, Sasha finds that she can’t meet his eyes, even if he can’t see the look in hers. She knows his caution is meant more for her than the others. They’re going to keep each other from falling too far, and they’ll try to help her, but in the end, they’re weaving a safety net and she has a knife up her sleeve. It wouldn’t take much effort for her to surreptitiously cut the fibers and fall through.

About the only thing stopping her right now is the knowledge that, if she does that, they’ll assume they just didn’t weave the net tightly enough and it’s their fault. The trouble is that, deep down, she’s pretty sure that eventually she’ll get to the point where the lure of the pit is stronger than the need to make sure her friends don’t blame themselves. She needs something a little bit stronger than a net to keep her grounded to humanity.

She wonders what Basira is up to right now.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Ash The Ironbelly ~ KNJ [Request]

↱↱↱Word Count: 5.1k

↱↱↱Genre: Magical!AU, fluffy, crack? Tiny angst, platonic

↱↱↱Pairing: OT7 With Reader

↱↱↱A/n: Hope this is okay for you love! This was my first time writing something like this and I actually really enjoyed being able to ‘’create my own world’’ I guess I didn’t because I used a lot of harry potter references but I really enjoyed writing this

You took in a deep breath as you walked through the forest, taking in as much of the forest air into your lungs as you could manage. It was early feeding time which meant you'd just gone to feed the trolls and were heading down through the forest towards the lake where Jimin would be but you were walking slowly since the trolls and you occasionally looked after Hades whenever Tae wanted some help with the little guy. The morning dew on the grass kept leaking inside of your shoe but you didn't care, it made your morning walk extra refreshing and helped you wakeup a little bit more- as if you would need that after the 10-minute walk into the forest.

"Bert!" You cried out of excitement when you felt the oldest, and tallest troll of your bunch bend down and scoop you into his hand. He was sixteen feet tall and his hand was the size of boulders so you sat perfectly in the middle of his palm. He was nothing but a huge softy to everyone he met but because of his size everyone was terrified of him, so he moved out into the forest with his wife to get away from people.

"Wet." He grunted loudly as he carried you over to the lake, you smiled up at him running your hand along his skin as a thank you while you plunged into your pocket for earplugs so that the mermaids couldn't put you into a trance.

"Morning Bert has she got you moving her around, so lazy." Jimin teased smiling as Bert gently put you down by the river bank before disappearing back into the large green trees so he could go back to his wife Gertrude. They'd been together for as long as you and the rest of the boys had been living in this part of the woods, you and Namjoon had come together after finding secrets about the place. You wanted to study the creatures and help any of the sick and injured ones that you came across, the rest of the boys all agreed to help as well.

"How are they doing this morning?" You questioned Jimin who pointed at the rock that was always sitting half in and half out of the water, you stared at the mermaid that was laying there. She was beautiful and you were sure that somehow their siren calls didn't just end with their voices, their beauty could intoxicate people too. She was laid on the rock with her grey and blue trail trailing down by her side, her hair was brown and done in plats so it was easier to swim with. She span around to see you standing close to Jimin and she leered at you, diving into the water and swimming over to the riverbank to inspect you.

"Behave," Jimin warned her as she continued to leer at you from inside of the water, a lot more of them all coming to join in and watch you closely.

Jimin was in charge of the mermaids because he was the only one exempt to their siren song which sounded so sweet and irresistible when you first heard it but once you saw the effects it quickly lost its appeal. Especially when the grey tailed one almost dragged Jungkook under the river to drown him, the attraction was over but for some reason, none of it seemed to affect Jimin. You later found out through countless bits of research that it was because of Jimin's natural flirty tones, you just assumed he must have been part siren.

"Hows Gertrude doing?" You looked over at the trees and then sat down with Jimin on the riverbank looking at the water, it was foggy over the water but it still looked peaceful and beautiful.

"She's good, almost ready to blow bless her." You laughed softly thinking back to when you first had to look up Troll pregnancies, the woman in the market thought you were insane for doing what you did out here.

"I heard Namjoon went into town this morning," Your ears picked up at the sound of Namjoon leaving the hut you all lived in,

"Really? Like just got up and left?!" You stood up from the floor and brushed off the trousers you were wearing, Jimin started at you while nodding. It progressed, Namjoon hadn't left the hut since his phoenix had combusted into flames and not come back after the week of rest it was supposed to have. You'd read up that after one week if they didn't come back it was over and Namjoon hadn't taken it very well, he began locking himself up in his room not wanting to talk to anyone.

"Yeah, Jin said he saw him leaving when he went down to feed Buckbeak this morning." You nodded and looked over at the hut, Taehyung was just getting back from a walk with Hades, Yoongi and Kat so you were going to have to go and start breakfast.

"Extra bacon?" You questioned Jimin knowing what he was thinking already, he smirked and nodded watching you sprint off in the direction of the stone hut you all lived in.

"Who's a good boy? That's right, you're such a good boy aren't you?" You giggled in a tone that had the rest of the boys staring at you from around the kitchen table. They'd all come back from looking after their morning animals and you were fussing Hades, the Cerberus that you and Taehyung co-owned. You fed all three of his heads a raw steak before standing up on your feet and stroking the body. Three-headed pitbull stood at 6 inches tall and was huge but when you first got him he was only a little baby, so small and fluffy that you slept with him every night, despite Jin's claims that it would be bad for him,

'He's supposed to be like his ancestors.' His ancestors being the ones depicted on ancient Egypt vases and walls, or ones told in the stories of Greek gods.

"You pamper him too much," Jin said as he watched Hade's walk into your room of the hut and jump onto your bed getting ready to sleep away his morning walk.

"I do not, he deserves it." Yoongi stared at you then over at Kat, the Kitsune he was in charge of looking after. A nine-tailed fox which he insisted on everyone calling a Kitsune because of what locals had been turning nine-tailed foxes into online.

"Yoongi spoils Kat." You shot back and it sparked a debate between you all over the kitchen table.

"Is Namjoon still not back?" Hoseok asked later that night when he walked up to the door with Jungkook close behind him, you'd been sat on the doorstep for hours. Looking up at the pitch-black sky for a while, while you waited for Namjoon to come home but it was getting late and there was still no sign of him. Jungkook was sweating and covered in glitter so you assumed the Unicorn he had been looking after in the forest had just given birth, you grabbed him a beer from the basket you had on the doorstep beside you.

"Congratulations Granddad." You teased smirking as you grumbled about going for a shower and left the bottle of beer on the kitchen side.

"How are the jackalopes doing?" You questioned Hoseok who sat down beside you on the step, he was about to go into depth with what he'd been doing with them when you heard Namjoon's voice.

"You're up late." He sounded shocked to see you awake, probably because you were the first out of you all to head to bed and the first to wakeup.

"Colour me stupid but I was worried about you, where did you go?" He looked in his bag and you frowned wondering what he was doing when he told you to get everyone into the living room.

"What's this about?" You questioned but he ignored your questions and pushed through into the house without another word.

"Go wake Yoongi up and I'll get the rest of them." There was no way you were going to be in charge of ever waking Yoongi up,

"Hades, here." You tapped your hip and Hades followed you into the hut and jumped onto Taehyung's bed waking him up in an instant,

"Family meeting."

"What is it Namjoon? Why did you wake us all up for a family meeting, could it not have waited until tomorrow?" Jimin grumbled laying his head on Hade's back as Hade's slept on the back of the sofa.

"No, this is important. Look, Y/n...What do you remember about that old guy from the tavern?" Everyone stared at you waiting for answers and you shook your head while shrugging your shoulders,

"Not much, he was an old drunk that used to tell me tales about this old place." Before you all moved into the hut you were working in a small tavern in the village hearing all of the crazy stories. You knew of magic, and mystical creatures but you had no idea that they were so close by you could walk to them.

"Do you remember he told you about dragons?" Namjoon was sweating as he sat by the fire, his sachel held as close to it as it could get without catching and going up in flames.

"Yes and I also remember him telling me that this place was haunted...Namjoon dragons went out years ago, along with old ghost stories-" You slowed down to a stop when you saw Namjoon reaching into his bag to pull out a teal coloured scaled egg.

"Namjoon what is that?" Jin questioned leaning forward, reaching out his hand to touch it but Namjoon put it back into the sachel.

"A dragon egg." He answered proudly looking over at the boys who were all now suddenly wide awake and filled with questions about the dragon egg while you were too busy trying to remember where you'd put all of the books on them.

"Where did you get it?" Their voices began to drown out as you walked towards your room in the hut, Hades following close behind to watch what you were doing.

"Hold this," You whispered to him handing him the latch to the attic, he placed it down on the floor and watched closely as you scaled the wall and got into the attic with ease.

"Dragon eggs, dragon eggs," You repeated as you ran your hands over the stacks of books in the attic. You and Namjoon had put them all up there when you finally took over the animals that lived with you and didn't need them anymore.

"Got it, Hades!" The dog was standing to attention at the bottom of the attic drop and you passed down five different books to him.

"Take them to the boys." All three heads took a book each and you picked up the last two flicking through them to see if you could find any information on eggs.

"Keep them warm, we have to keep them hot. Body temperature is good too." You mumbled aloud to the boys as they watched you and Namjoon began to flick through the books in front of you both.

                                                 ~22 Months later~

You were bouncing the egg from side to side in a baby sling that Jin had picked up from a flea market a couple of months ago. According to the book the egg should have hatched around the nine-month mark but yet here you were still holding an egg 22 months later.

"Like a baby elephant," Jimin said that morning before leaving to go down to the lake, Taehyung had taken overseeing to Bert for you while you and Namjoon stayed home to take care of the egg and Hades.

"Here, you look exhausted." Namjoon went to take the egg from your hands but it slipped falling and hitting the floor by Hades face, he sniffed it before looking up at you both.

"Are you fucking stupid?! Namjoon that's a fucking baby dragon and you just dropped it!" You screamed looking down at the egg and then back to Namjoon who was turning a bright red colour and clenching his jaw.

"It's a rock hard egg! I'm sure it's fine!" The tension was high in the air and you could have cut through it with a butterknife at this point. Namjoon and you had both been on edge for the last couple of months since the egg wasn't showing any signs of changing since it changed from it's teal colour to a dark blue one with red sparkles on every other scale.

"It's a baby dragon!" You screamed bending down to pick up the egg but noticing it was starting to wiggle around and a crack was forming around the top half of the egg.

"Namjoon! Namjoon!" You screamed as he stormed off into the kitchen to get the hot water bottles ready,

"It's happening! It's time!" You screeched, he came running into the room almost slipping on the rug as he came in and you, Namjoon and Hades all gathered around the egg waiting for it to hatch.

The door to the hut opened and Jimin's loud opera singing sounded through the hut,

"SHUT UP!" You both screamed in unison making him stare at you acting offended until he noticed you all huddled around the egg which was almost completely cracked in a circle.

"You're going to be parents." He joked looking at you while stroking Hades main head while staring at the egg and waiting for something to happen but, he was impatient and walked away the second nothing happened while he waited there.

"Namjoon." You moaned pushing his shoulder away from you, you'd taken the egg to bed and laid it between you so that if it hatched you'd hear him or her coming out of the egg to greet you but Namjoon was laid right next to you and the egg was smashed into tiny pieces.

"Namjoon!" You panicked pushing him off the bed to wake him up and he looked up at you rubbing his eyes,

"Where is he?!" Your voice was masked in panic while you looked around the room only spotting the golden dragon on the bed, laid asleep on the pillow between you and Namjoon.

"Awh, look..." You both slowly drew closer to the bed and sat down watching the tiny dragon sleep, he was around the size of a bearded sleeping with his wings spread on the pillow.

"So tiny," Namjoon whispered running the side of his pinky down the back of the dragon's back and smiling as the dragon woke up and tried to fly up onto his hand.

"Here little guy," You whispered picking him up in your hands and shifting so you were sitting in front of Namjoon with your legs crossed,

"Namjoon will hold you okay," Namjoon held out his hands and the dragon took a couple of steps before falling back down onto his front and curling up to sleep in Namjoon's palm.

"It's weird huh?" You whispered to Namjoon while nodding at the dragon,

"What?"

"All the books said he would be about the size of an infant but he's tiny." Namjoon hummed and laid back against the headboard of your bed. You sat beside him watching the dragon sleeping, it was letting out small puffs of smoke through his snot.

"I should take Hades out for his morning walk," You yawned looking over at the window to see the sun rising through the gaps in your blinds.

"What? No. What if he wakes up!?" You stared at Namjoon as you got up from the bed and shook your head at him promising him that he would be fine. All of the books said that baby dragons will eat scraps of meat and you had plenty in the fridge from what you fed Hades with.

"Come on boy," You clapped your leg and Hades followed you out of the room and into the kitchen where Jin was getting ready to leave and Jimin was drinking his first mug of coffee.

"Any sign of him yet?" You nodded over at your door and they all rushed inside to get a good look at the baby dragon while you took Hades out to see Bert and Gertrude, along with their baby.

"Hey! Hades found this really weird looking- what did I do?" You asked when you came back that morning to find all of them staring at you,

"You left! For three hours! What time do you even call this?!" Namjoon asked looking at the dragon which was sitting on Jin's shoulder,

"I call it 9 am, what do you call it?" You asked going over to the fridge and getting meat for Hades who looked unimpressed that you were both being stared at by all of the boys.

"You didn't even stay to come up with a name!?" Taehyung asked, you walked over to Jin and took the dragon from his shoulder holding him close to your face and giggling as he licked your nose.

"I thought we agreed if it was a boy he would be called Norbert and if it was a girl Norberta like in Harry Potter?" Namjoon scoffed pointing at the dragon and questioning if you really thought he looked like a Norbert,

"Nah maybe more like a Draco." You teased knowing that they all hated Draco in the films so they weren't going to call him after their most hated character - who happened to be your favourite.

"Hagrid?" Jimin suggested but none of them looked like what your dragon should have been named.

"I've got it!" Yoongi said as he looked over at you, the dragon was now crawling its way on top of your head and it sat in your hair.

"Ash." You stared at Namjoon who was thinking about it for a couple of minutes before he started nodding,

"It's cute,"

"And a pun...Yoongi I'm proud!" Jin yelled causing Yoongi to let out a groan of annoyance about how he'd made a pun when he really hadn't intended to in the first place.

"Ukrainian ironbelly," You mumbled tiredly as you walked out into the garden, Namjoon with sitting with Ash on the grass waiting for him to try and fly for the first time while you had been reading up on all the different breeds trying to nail down what he was.

"Ash, go on...go on." You clutched the book close to your chest to see Namjoon encouraging Ash to jump form the gate post he was on, Ash was the size of an infant now and was supposed to have learnt how to fly months ago but you figured he was a slow developer or a different breed of dragon.

"You think that's why he's a little on the slower side?" Namjoon whispered as if Ash could hear you and would get upset about it, you nodded slowly showing Namjoon the pages of the book.

"Ironbelly's are supposed to develop a little slower but once they reach-"

"Whoa." You sighed in agreement as you realised what photograph he'd just seen.

"Yep," Namjoon picked up the phone, the dragon shown was bigger than Bert and Gertrude put together and was supposed to grow as big as skyscrapers.

"Where did you get him, he's really rare Namjoon." You started scratching underneath his chin and he began blowing more and more smoke out of his nose until he started flapping his wings from excitement. The book Namjoon was holding dropped onto the grass as you both watched Ash with his eyes closed picking up into the air, it was just a little but enough that it could be considered flying. You hand pulled away and as soon as it did he dropped onto the fence post again and it was as if he was pouting at you both which made you giggle.

"Do you want a treat? Fly onto the floor and I'll give you an extra-large steak." Ash stared at you, then to Namjoon before flapping his wings and launching himself from the fence post flying a couple of metres before dropping onto the floor.

"He's a lot like you," Namjoon said wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walked into the hut together to get the steak.

"What do you mean?" You laughed, Ash made his way up the small step and stood in front of the fridge where he knew the meat was kept.

"Will do just about anything for food." You hit his chest with the fridge door and grabbed the steak, glancing out of your peripheral vision to see Hades slowly making his way over.

"Yes baby, you get one too." Namjoon got three more steaks out and you bent down to feed Ash who grabbed the meat and began trying to fly up onto the table so he could eat in peace away from the three-headed dog that demolished his within a matter of seconds.

Jin came in from looking after Buckbeak - the hippogriff- that you all kept and he was sweating and panting,

"You went past the lake again didn't you?"

"He did! Angel nearly had my eye out trying to jump up in the air for him!" Jimin screamed coming into the house covered in water, you giggled at the sight and pointed over at the table.

"Jungkook went into town and brought back food," Jimin grumbled something under his breath and walked away while Jin got himself a plate of food and sat between Yoongi and Tae who were discussing something about Kat.

"She's starting to pine for someone, she needs breeding but I don't know anyone with male foxes...do I just let her go to find one? She keeps trying to go for the mountains," You glanced over at Kat who was chained down to the floor, it seemed harsh at first but letting her out into the wild at night offered too many problems and he didn't want her to be hunted or lost.

"Maybe take her out in the morning and keep up with her." You suggested before shoving a bunch of noodles into your mouth and looking back down at the articles you'd found online about Ironbellies.

"What are you two going to do?" You swallowed the food and looked at Jungkook who had said it,

"Do about what?" Namjoon questioned putting down his book and looking at the youngest boy, Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and pointed at Ash who was curled up between you and Namjoon.

"We've all seen the photos, he's going to get too big to stay around here and then what are you going to do?"

"Keep him..." You said slowly as if there was any other option. He was like a son to you and Namjoon you weren't about to give him up.

"Pretty soon he won't be small enough to lay in the space between you at night." You looked down at Ash who began stretching and yawning, you knew they were right but you'd grown so accustomed to him sleeping between you and Namjoon it was going to be weird going back to just sleeping alone. Namjoon would go back to his room and you would just lay there alone all night.

"We can still keep him here though, we have a huge forest he can go to-"

"He won't be happy there, he needs to be with his own kind." Jin offered but you'd heard enough and got up from the sofa making a fast exit and locked yourself in your bedroom.

That night when Namjoon came into the room you laid awake while he and Ash slept soundly beside you, what the boys had said was sticking in your mind and it was making you want to cry. The thought alone of giving Ash up was breaking your heart, you didn't want to have to do that but you knew he was going to want to be with his own kind. Shifting over you looked at Namjoon as he snored silently, he was just as attached to Ash as you were since his phoniex was gone but you knew this was going to hurt him more when Ash went.

"Fuck." You whispered as you let tears roll down your cheeks and onto the bed, you sniffled before turning over and stared at the wall not wanting to think about it but it was all that clouded your mind. A fog over every thought about Ash and Namjoon, a fog so thick it was hard to see a future for you guys anymore.

Namjoon knew what you'd been doing all week and for the last six months. You'd done nothing but stay awake until unholy hours researching dragon trainers, dragon inn's and ringing up different places to discuss their treatments of the animals but nothing seemed as good as what you and Namjoon were able to offer but you knew you weren't going to find something like that.

"You got a place?" You nodded sliding the photographs of the sanctuary over to him and looking at Ash who was outside the front of the house asleep. He was huge now, about the size of a double-decker bus and it was scaring you how fast he was growing, it meant you only had little time left and all you wanted to do was spend time with him but you couldn't.

"It looks lovely and it's out in the desert, they have free range...He'll love it." Namjoon's voice croaked and you knew he was getting just as upset about this as you were, no one wanted to see Ash leave but it was one of those things that had to happen.

"They have a lot of Ironbellies there, they opened the place up to breed them so they could bring more back and study them because as you know...there isn't a lot on him or dragons in general." You both stared out of the window at Ash and you got up to go out and feed him while Namjoon flicked through the pages that you'd given him,

"Hey buddy," You whispered walking over to Ash who waited for you to get closer before bowing his head down and letting you hug him. He was so tame and used to you guys that it was like having a dog rather than a dragon. Namjoon cleared his throat trying not to cry and when he looked up he saw you hugging Ash, he smiled softly at the sight knowing that you'd all grown close to him and it was going to kill you all to give him up. Even Hades had grown to love him sleeping outside with him most nights or sharing meat with him, Namjoon sighed looking back at the photos and deciding it was the better option for everyone if Ash went away but he was going to check something first.

The dreaded day had come around far too soon for your liking, you'd laid outside with Namjoon and Ash all night to spend a final night together before he left with the trainers today, you looked at Ash who was snoring just like Namjoon only small flames were shooting out into the firepit beside you both. It had kept you warm all night but was starting to die out since the morning dew was hitting again.

"Coffee?" You glanced over to see Yoongi who was holding a mug and you got up from the floor and laid your blanket over Namjoon.

"Thanks." You whispered taking the cup and sipping from it, he watched you closely as you sat in the kitchen but in view of the window.

"They won't escape, you have to let go y/n." You knew he was right, he'd done the same with Kat and she came back. With 10 different little Kitsunes along with her but she came back.

"It just sucks," You whimpered rubbing your tears on your sleeve and then looking at Yoongi who was sighing, he'd never been good at the comforting thing so he just tried to reassure you by hugging you.

"He'll do better there," Again, you knew he was right but it didn't make the situation any easier to deal with, Namjoon started stirring in his sleep and you looked out of the window to see why. Dragons were incoming which meant the time was coming for Ash to leave.

"You just have a couple of forms to sign but once they're all done you're good to go Mr and Mrs Kim." You stared at the man in front of you and Namjoon informed him that you weren't together,

"Odd, usually people who raise dragons together are usually couples. My sincere apologies." Namjoon noticed you gazing out of the window and nudged for you to go,

"I've got this, go say goodbye." You sniffled and walked out of the hut going over to Ash who was being pampered by the other dragon keepers,

"Can I be alone with him for a minute?" They left without a word and you looked at Ash who stared back down at you with his jet black eyes.

"Hey buddy, you're erm...You're going to go away for a while okay," You reached your hand up to his face and he nestled into your touch making you let the tears fall from your eyes.

"They're really nice though, and you'll find a girlfriend or you know, a boyfriend in no time." You sighed leaning your forehead onto his and he nudged you so you would fall onto the floor at his feet and cuddle him. The way you had fallen asleep the night before.

"Y/n it's time." You got up from the floor and Namjoon held you close to his waist as you watched the trainers unhook Ash from his chain and add ropes so that they could ride him home, his new home.

"I meant what we discussed Namjoon, any time." Namjoon nodded and you both watched closely as Ash began to take off into the air flying further and further away until he was a dot in the sky. You sniffled and Namjoon rubbed your waist comfortingly.

"What did you discuss?" You whispered trying to get your mind off never seeing Ash again when Namjoon turned you to face him, he wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Ash can come and see us every three months and we're more than welcome to fly out and see him whenever we want." Your heart picked up at the thought and you threw your arms around Namjoon as you thought about going to see Ash when he was settled.

"We could go and see him when he's finally settled down and maybe has someone to mate with." You giggled excitedly and Namjoon watched you as you ran into the house to tell the rest of the boys the good news about Ash.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @fan-ati--c @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​

[bisexualkramer]

Hi! I participated in @pilesofnonsense‘s 2020 Rusty Quill Big Bang this year, and I’m so excited to share my fic with all of you!

I’d like to thank @aibari for betaing this monstrosity and @cthulu-time for making a REALLY COOL ART PIECE FOR THE FIC LIKE HOLY SHIT IT’S AWESOME!! It was such a pleasure to work with both of them!

Hope y’all enjoy it!

The End of All Things - A Magnus Archives Lord of the Rings AU

Part One: Fellowship

Part Two: Towers

Part Three: King

Summer had come to the Shire at last. The green grass was soft underfoot, as gentle as the breeze that danced through the air, bringing with it the scent of wildflowers and tilled earth. The skies were blue and filled with clouds that drifted lazily about. Children wove daisy crowns and danced through the streets in preparation for the midsummer holiday. The old dozed; the young worked; everything was peaceful and good.

Not that Jonathan Sims would have known. His summer habits were no different than his winter ones. He awoke before the sun rose—quite the feat, in those long days of summer—and trudged down the lane to the Shire’s old archives, where he dutifully toiled until after the sun had set. The only variation in his routine was the thickness of his jacket and the presence or lack of an old woolen hat, a gift from his gardener that had kept him from catching his death of cold for at least the past three winters. Jon, bless him, had never thanked the man for it, but he was still willing to wear it, and that was quite enough for Martin Blackwood.

On the eve of the midsummer feast, Jonathan was down in the archive basement again, digging through a waterlogged box of paper and finding the documents that needed to be replaced. The head archivist, Gertrude Robinson, sat beside him, dutifully copying down an old deed that had been damaged in a spring flood. They worked in a quiet tandem, satisfied with the comfortable silence that came from years of friendship.

Jon had been very young when his parents had died in a boating accident. His grandmother hadn’t been keen on raising another child, but there had been no one else to take him. He’d grown up a lonely child in the country, kept company only by books, until his grandmother had died, leaving him her house. He’d sold it immediately and moved to the Shire, and his job application to the town archive had been accepted within a week. He’d been working there ever since, though he’d only become one of Gertrude’s close assistants in the last couple of years. Still, the two got on like a house on fire, and Jon liked to think that Gertrude would ask him to take over when she eventually retired.

A knock at the door brought Jon out of his thoughts. A young man stepped in, his blonde hair falling down around his cheeks in ringlet curls that made even Jon jealous. He handed a sheaf of paper over to Gertrude with a smile.

“Thank you, Michael,” she said. Michael Shelley had only been working in the archives for a few months. He had a bad habit of leaving his red cardigan in the archives. Jon was beginning to suspect he was doing it on purpose, if only because of—

“Hey, guys?” asked a voice from the back. “I’ve found another one with water damage. Where are we putting it?”

“Bring it here,” said Jon resignedly.

Gerry Delano was a short, broad-shouldered hobbit with badly-dyed black hair that hung in greasy strings around his face. He had a permanent scowl that occasionally lifted into a smirk. Every time he spoke to Michael, Michael would erupt into nervous, grating laughter, which did little to improve Jon’s mood but seemed to make Gerry much cheerier.

Jon hated working with them.

Gerry dropped the box in front of them and exaggeratedly wiped the sweat off his brow. He met Michael’s eye and smirked. Michael giggled. Jon tried very hard not to roll his eyes.

“Right,” said Gerry. “Think I’m off for today. Anyone fancy the Green Dragon for a half-pint?”

“Oh, ah, that sounds fun,” said Michael. “Uh, would either of you care to join us?”

Jon scowled, but Gertrude shoved at his arm. “Go have fun,” she said. “I’m expecting a visitor soon. I don’t need you moping down here next to me.”

“But the deeds—” Jon began, only to be hauled to his feet by Gerry in a feat of strength that stole the words from his throat.

“None of that,” said Gerry. “C’mon. Besides, I think your boy’s usually there on Fridays.”

“My what?” Jon scoffed, but he was already being firmly escorted out the door.

“Lord,” said Gertrude. “Youth is wasted on the wrong people.”

...

The Green Dragon was always lively around the end of the week, but it was even more so before holidays. Gerry crept to the bar for drinks and brought them back to the table, cursing as he set them down.

“Nearly lost one,” he said, passing them around. “Anyway, cheers to another year in the archives.”

“Cheers,” said the rest of them absently.

Jon peered around the room as Gerry and Michael began to flirt rather obnoxiously. He felt his stomach drop as he accidentally met eyes with Martin from across the room. Martin’s expression brightened, and he began to head toward the table. Jon tried not to scowl.

The truth of the matter was, Jon had spent a very, very long time hating Martin. Martin had apparently been the gardener at Bag End since before the previous inhabitant had left (very mysteriously, and no one in town would say anything about it—there were rumors that he had been close with Gertrude, but she refused to say anything about it). Jon kept him on because his rates were good and it felt like the right thing to do, and not because he had often heard Martin chatting quietly with the bees while he worked, oblivious to Jon’s watchful eye on the other side of the kitchen window. As Martin approached, Jon quickly realized that the only remaining seat was the one next to him. He tried to ignore it when Martin’s leg brushed very lightly against his own, but couldn’t quite manage to get it out of his head.

“All right, Martin?” Gerry asked, giving him a smile.

Martin blushed a bit at the attention, which made Jon want to commit murder, or possibly arson. “I’m all right,” he said. “And you?”

The two of them struck up a friendly conversation, which they roped Michael into fairly quickly. Jon buried his face in his drink for a while before finally allowing Michael to draw him in with a well-aimed question about the old books he’d found in his home when he moved, which led to several hours of debate over the whereabouts of the mysterious owner, and then a conversation about Michael’s sister, who had sold the property, and then the state of the small library in Hobbiton, and soon Jon found himself ranting about the properties of various waxes for almost a quarter of an hour.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly when he realized no one had stopped him.

“No,” said Martin, his face flush with alcohol. “No, it was interesting. It was really interesting.”

“Christ,” said Gerry. “Right. I think I’m done for tonight.” He glanced at Michael. “Care to walk me home?”

Michael stuttered a response and pulled on his sweater, leaving Jon and Martin sitting beside each other.

“Well,” said Jon, just as Martin said “Anyway…”

“Oh,” said Jon.

“Sorry,” said Martin. “I mean, uh, go ahead.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Jon stuttered. “You first.”

“Right,” said Martin. “Uh, I was just going to say it was getting late. Maybe we should go.”

Jon stared at him blankly for a moment before the words made it past his ears and into his head. “Oh, yes,” said Jon. “Of course. Yes.”

“Unless you don’t want to…?”

“No, it’s really fine. Absolutely fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Jon tried not to let too much annoyance creep into his voice as he said “Yes, Martin. I’m quite sure.” From the look on Martin’s face, he was fairly certain he had failed.

“Right,” said Martin. “Um… I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yes,” said Jon. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night, then.”

Jon gave him a thin smile. “Good night, Martin.”

The walk home was colder than Jon had expected. He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly wishing he had brought a jacket to the archives that morning. The night sky was clear and star-filled, broken only by the slightest sliver of the moon. As he walked, a small group of fireflies flitted through the bushes by the side of the lane.

He passed by the archives on the way home. The lamps inside were still lit, and Jon could hear hushed voices from within. Never one to miss a chance to eavesdrop, he slowed his step and quieted his breathing, listening with all his might.

“… power grows ever stronger,” said Gertrude. “I’ve felt its draw for the last thirty years. I think soon I shall have to leave it behind.”

“I just hope we’re wrong,” said a familiar voice that Jon hadn’t heard in years. A silhouette appeared in the window, wearing a pointed wizard’s hat. Forgetting himself, Jon flung open the door with a smile.

“Sasha!”

She whirled toward him, her dark hair whipping out as she did. “Jon!”

Gertrude looked rather grumpy to have been interrupted, but Sasha’s eyes were full of delight. She wrapped Jon in a tight embrace, laughing all the while.

“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” she said. “I was going to stop by in the morning. I wasn’t sure if you were asleep.”

“Gerry and Michael dragged me out,” said Jon. Sasha’s face lit up at the mention of Michael’s name.

“I’m glad they’re getting you out of this dusty basement,” she said. “Don’t want you withering away down here, eh?” Her glasses and her many rings glinted mischievously in the lamplight.

Gertrude glanced at him over her reading spectacles. “I’m sorry to interrupt the reunion,” she said, “but I really do think we need to continue this discussion, Sasha.”

“All right, all right,” said Sasha. “Listen, Jon, I’ll talk to you at the festival tomorrow, yeah?”

“Very well,” said Jon. “I’m very glad to see you again.”

“I’m glad, too,” she said. “Take care of yourself, Jon.”

Jon turned to leave, then glanced back at Sasha. As she glanced at Gertrude, her smile vanished, and Jon’s heart filled unexpectedly with fear.

...

The midsummer festival was a full day and night of merrymaking, complete with the finest ales and pipeweeds that could be found in the Shire. People baked for days to prepare enough pies and pastries for the whole community. Everything was shared at the festival, from food to old stories. Even Jon, for all his curmudgeonly ways, could admit that it was a rather wonderful day.

A flowery banner had been erected across the entrance to old Eric Delano’s field, where they’d held the festival in memory of his late wife for the past ten years. (Gerry tended to complain about it, if you could get him drunk enough to recount the tales of his childhood with her—apparently, she’d been rather cruel, and he didn’t feel she deserved such a nice party.) Jon arrived in the early afternoon, far later than most of the Shire, as large crowds tended to make him nervous. It wasn’t long before he was accosted by Martin, who was camped in a corner, sipping at his ale.

“Oh, Jon!” he said, nearly knocking it over. “Hi! Nice to see you here.”

“Hello, Martin,” said Jon. He cast about awkwardly for something to say, landing on, “Uh, are you having fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Martin. “I was just helping set up this morning, and then I’ve been sort of running around with everything. D’you need anything?”

“No, thank you, Martin,” said Jon. “I was just, ah, going to see Sasha. Have you seen her or Gertrude, by any chance?”

“Uh, no,” said Martin. “D’you think they’re just running late?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you would have seen them. I’ll ask around.”

“Okay,” said Martin. “Um, you’re here to stay, right?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good! Because, you know, I was thinking we could get a drink—uh, with Michael and Gerry, I mean, and maybe Sasha, not just the two of us, haha, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, Martin,” Jon said distractedly, still searching the crowd for Gertrude and Sasha. “I’ll be seeing you.” He turned and began to shove through the crowd of hobbits once more.

He didn’t make it far. There was a large booth on the northern border of the property, near where he had come in, that sold beautiful pastries topped with intricate spiral designs. There were two people manning that booth. One was Michael, who was chatting with old Eric Delano by the fence. The other was his sister, Helen, who was handing out sweets to anyone who walked by with a smile and a nod.

Michael and Helen didn’t look very similar at all. In fact, they weren’t siblings by blood; their parents had married when the two were nearly twenty, and they’d instantly started to bicker like any other siblings. Contrary to Michael’s fair skin and hair, Helen’s skin was dark, and her hair was a deep black. The only similarity between the two was their hair. Both had hair that curled in tight coils around their heads. Michael kept his back in a ponytail with a fair bit of effort and oil; Helen let hers grow out around her head, leaving her with a spiral halo that could be quite disorienting if you looked at it for too long.

“Jon!” she shouted, waving him over. “Jon, over here!”

Jon rolled his eyes but made his way over to the stall. He and Helen had a somewhat tumultuous relationship; she enjoyed teasing him (though Jon likely would have said “torturing him), and he tolerated her jabs with the best humor he could muster on any given day. Often, this meant that he stormed away fuming, followed by her very distinctive cackle of victory.

It was as good a friendship as any, he supposed.

“Hi, Jon,” said Helen cheerfully when Jon arrived at her stall. “Here, try a hot cross bun.” She shoved the pastry at him forcefully and laughed when he took it and instantly swore at just how hot it was.

“Hello, Helen,” said Jon. “Have you seen Sasha?”

Helen pouted. “Don’t want to stay and talk to me, Jon? How very rude!”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that. I’ll come back later, if you like. I just need to speak with Sasha.”

Helen’s pout didn’t disappear, but she pointed a long, slender finger toward an innocuous tent that was hidden behind the many barrels of ale that had been prepared for that evening. “I saw her setting up in there,” she said. “I think it’s her fireworks, but I’m not sure. She didn’t even stop and say hello.”

“Right,” said Jon. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

He made his way quickly to Sasha’s firework tent, shoving through the crowds until he was able to duck inside. Sasha was there, thank heavens—Jon was just about ready to leave the party entirely if he had to talk to one more person.

“Jon!” said Sasha as she fiddled with the fuse of a long, red rocket. “I was looking for you earlier, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Where have you been?”

Jon sighed. “Socializing,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Sasha laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “You love it.”

Jon rolled his eyes, but he let his expression soften. “So what brings you back to the Shire?”

Sasha’s smile faded slightly around her eyes, which Jon noted and tucked away. “I needed to talk to Gertrude,” she said. “And I thought it would be nice to see everyone again. You know I miss you all when I’m on my travels.”

“Ah, your mysterious voyages,” said Jon. “Any chance we’ll get to hear some stories tonight?”

“Perhaps,” said Sasha, waggling her eyebrows.

“Speaking of Gertrude,” said Jon, “I should probably go and find her. I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Really?” Sasha asked. “She said she was planning on showing up early. Apparently, her and Eric had a bit of a fight last week, and she said she wanted to apologize before the festival really kicked off.”

“A fight?” Jon asked. “What about?”

“I don’t know. You know they haven’t been as close since Eric left the archives,” she said. “And he hasn’t been the same since the whole Mary thing, or since he lost his eyes.”

Jon hummed. “I’ll ask around, see if anyone’s seen her,” he said. “When are the fireworks?”

“Just after sundown,” said Sasha with a sparkle in her eye. “You won’t want to miss them.”

“No, I won’t,” Jon agreed. He glanced up at her. “I’ve missed you, too, you know.”

Sasha’s smile grew. “Oh, Jon!” she said, and she threw her arms around him. Jon squawked in protest as he was smothered by her flowing wizardly robes, but Sasha paid him no mind. She squeezed his shoulders tightly. “I know how hard that was for you to admit—”

“I am capable of talking about my feelings, you know.”

“—and I want you to know that I’m very, very glad to have you as a friend.”

Jon laughed, then pulled away, trying to extricate himself from a truly ridiculous amount of fabric. “All right, all right,” he said. “I’m going to go and find Gertrude. I’ll meet up with you later.”

“Go on and have fun. And, hey, try not to cause any trouble.”

Jon scoffed. “I do not cause trouble.”

“Sure, you don’t. Enjoy the party! Have some of Helen’s pastries. They’re delicious.”

Jon made his way out of the tent and back into the midst of the festivities. The sun burned in the sky, and the air was humid and heavy. Most of the party-goers had retreated to the relative shade of the small copse of trees in the northeast corner. Jon spotted Gerry sitting there with old Fiona Law, who was regaling a small group of children with a fairy tale that seemed to have put Gerry halfway to sleep.

“Gerard,” said Jon as he approached, “have you seen Gertrude?”

Gerry shook his head sleepily. “Figured she was with you,” he said. “She must have gotten caught up in the archives. Want me to go and look?”

“No, don’t trouble yourself,” said Jon. “I’m sure she’ll show up eventually.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Gerry. He closed his eyes once more. Jon left him to his nap.

It seemed the whole Shire had fallen into the afternoon daze. Jon took it upon himself to clean up some of the mess while everyone around him slept, then decided he could return to the archives and do some work before the fireworks that night. He doubted anyone would notice him leaving, sleepy as they all were.

When he reached the garden gate, a horrible, wriggling sort of sound brought him to a stop. He glanced around, looking for its source, and settled his gaze on a ball of silver worms that were intertwined so tightly with each other that they almost looked like one creature. Normally, Jon didn’t have a problem with worms–only spiders were enough to set him shivering–but something about the worms seemed wrong, reminding him of rot and decay and illness rather than good soil and the smell of summer. He suppressed a sudden bout of nausea and carefully stepped past them, keeping his distance as best he could.

Hobbiton was largely abandoned, as everyone was at the party. The sun had settled into that lazy mid-afternoon place where everything looked a bit like a dream. Jon brushed away a bit of sweat and then paused, hearing the wriggling sound once more. There were more of those silvery worms in the soil beside the main road, though not in nearly so high a concentration as the ones by Delano’s farm. Jon hurried on.

As he rounded the last corner, he heard something that made his heart drop in his chest: a panicked scream, coming from inside the archives.

Jon ran down the lane toward the scream. As he ran, he accidentally squashed a few silver worms underfoot. The sensation of their segmented bodies bursting against his toes made him shudder, but he did not slow his speed. He flung open the heavy wooden doors to the archives with a desperate groan, shoving against years of rust that had grown across the hinges.

Martin was pressed against the wall inside the door, clutching his chest as though trying to keep his heart inside. His face was white as a sheet.

“Martin?” Jon asked.

Martin whirled around, curls bouncing against his forehead. His eyes were wide, and his mouth was wider.

“Jon!” he said, clutching one hand to his chest.

“What’s the matter?” Jon asked urgently. “I heard a shout.”

“I— it’s—”

“For God’s sake, Martin, spit it out!”

“It’s Gertrude,” Martin gasped. “Jon, she’s dead.”

[puppy-the-mask]

Poly? Morph

A Friends to lovers post-dnd-transportation fic focusing on our boys Rant and Rus (debating on adding Edge aswell) 

There’s like 4 POV changes so let me know if I should re-write? this was more for fun than anything, It doesn’t get to romance yet but I hope to continue in my free time. Let me know any errors or anything, I’ll put it on AO3 after a bit more editing and input. I’ve just re-read it so much its all bleh to me so i’m getting second opinions/input here

tw/Blood and Death- not graphic but y’know -/(Owo)\-

It’s been 5 years since we began, just a couple of students playing a game of DnD. Mere hours after wrapping up session zero us players arrived home and as a collective felt a foreign wave of exhaustion, falling asleep one by one.

The city's air was damp and the pathways were dim with the light of half dead lanterns. The party was shuffling through the empty streets to the gates bound for our next assignment when a figure appeared out of the shadows, the glint of metal and we found ourselves face to face with a hostage situation. 

You had once been the closest we had to a tank, a perk of having been a dragonborn with high strength- even if you were a druid bard- but after being cursed for the upteenth time you’d been separated from your avatar- Blackjack-  and rendered a low level support for our high level party. 

Without you taking lead your roll was delegated to other, more impulsive members. The next moments are a flurry of movement as a loud burst sends the assailant back along with you- the dagger at your neck drawing blood. 

Everything blended together as I flew to the front lines, rage getting the best of me as the look on your face burned itself into my mind. The shock and pain in your eyes drove me forward as the streets were painted red. 

The cleric could heal you, I had a life to take. 

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

Sans woke up panting, eyelights materializing and analyzing his surroundings. WHAT? 

He couldn’t believe it, there was no way… He was back in his room, back in his world- well the one he’d been in before. There was so much to process, his new surroundings aside- their last foe had been someone they’d trusted. And yet she almost killed y/n… had she even known who she was attacking? There were so many questions rattling around his skull as his magic buzzed in his bones. He needed to check on them, he needed to make sure they made it back. Normally he’d shortcut straight to their room but his magic was sluggish and unresponsive. He’d just have to run.

He managed to make it down the stairs without falling and stumble a few more steps before he heard voices. NO NONONO FUCK! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!

“AH RANT, YOU’RE AWAKE! RANT?” He had to brace himself on the couch, his center of gravity was much different than his avatar’s “RANT ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Paps knelt to his level and looked him over

“I’m Fine, Let Me Go-!” The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip as he tried to get past to the door “I SAID LET ME GO! I NEED TO CHECK ON THEM!” 

“WHO? RANT TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG.” He just kept struggling, but everything was getting fuzzy as his soul was settling back in his proper body. “Can You Tell Me Where You Are?” More people were walking in, having been drawn from the dining room by their voices. 

“WHERE!? I'M HERE WITH YOU AT THE HOUSE- NOW LET ME GO!” more voices joined the conversation but they all started to run together.

“rant? dude what’s wrong!?” 

“THE HELL IS HIS PROBLEM?”

“huh, so the shortstack does have eyelights”

“bro?” his eyelights sharpened and shrank on his brother and he felt tears prick his sockets. 

“Papyrus?” The soft copy let him go as he stumbled into his brother’s arms. Stars he really hoped this wasn’t an illusion, but the comfort of his brother’s magic reassured him. “It’s Really You…” 

“sans? sans what happened?” Rant just shook his head, his voice leaving him. Had that all just been a dream? It didn’t feel like it, there was no way a dream could be that real. He could remember with clarity how vivid it all was, the blood- the pain- the party that was just so full of life despite their situation- their bard. His gaze hardened. 

He may not be able to do anything in his current state but there was one other person who was close enough to y/n to have a shortcut straight to them. Rant forced his voice to settle and pinned his friend with his stare 

“RUS.” The skeleton stiffened “YOU NEED TO GET TO Y/N, THEY SHOULD BE IN THEIR ROOM” 

“bro, sans you need to breathe with me you’re friend is fine.” He ignored his brother, not looking away from Rus. 

“RUS I CAN’T USE MY MAGIC” The room stilled around him but he persisted, dragging the younger skeleton closer and dropping his volume “You’re All They Have Right Now.

Seeing his hesitance Rant quickly amended his plea. “If I'm Wrong And They’re Fine I’ll Owe You- I Don’t Care- Just please…” 

Rus swallowed, settled his frantic magic, and nodded before stepping out of Rant’s slackened grip into nowhere. 

“sans i know you like bein dramatic but yer really startin to worry me- what happened, what’s wrong with yer magic.” Rant took a deep breath before looking up at Mutt and muttering into his brother’s hoodie

“I’ll Tell You Tonight” Shifting he let his tears fall and grabbed at the fabric in front of him “ I-I DON’T KNOW I JUST- I WOKE UP BUT WHAT I SAW- IT WAS TOO GRAPHIC TO NOT BE REAL AND I...” Rant took a shuddering breath “ IN IT Y/N- THEY GOT HURT BUT I CAN’T CALM DOWN ENOUGH TO DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.” He looked away from the crowd to the ground and flinched at the annoyed responses of some of them- mad at him for interrupting dinner over a nightmare and unaware of the satisfaction each rude comment brought him. 

He couldn’t help but thank his old reputation as an attention seeking drama queen, this was his easiest coverup yet. Rant wiped his tears and started the process of evening out his breathing

Stars, it felt so good to be back in his own body. He settled into his brother’s embrace, hugging him back. He’d missed him so much. 

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

Blackjack hadn’t exactly been thrilled when you had showed up, he was quite the opposite if he was being honest. He didn’t like taking a back seat while a teenager piloted his body, sue him. But unlike you’d think he didn’t despise you, It was obvious that neither you nor your friends had been expecting a body switch to happen by the end of the first day. But then nearly 5 years later you’d made a deal with good old gertrude, accepted yet another experimental curse, and next thing the dragonborn knew he had his body back.

The next few months were interesting to say the least, he stuck with the party and quietly delighted in how your companions turned to him when they meant to talk to you and expected him to do things he’d never do. You were different then him, kinder, a total bard, and frankly he’s just glad that all those curses you’d brought onto the two of you had transferred. He could deal with a few extra scars if that was the trade off. 

You did have a couple similarities though, your shared love of gambling, ale, and women. 

The two of you were talking about just that, naming your favorite flirtatious endeavors over the years you’d spent as him- of which there were many, including lady victoria. It wasn’t exactly hard for him to pick up where you had left off but something told him there was something more to the parties’ friend in high places. As good of a rogue as you were you were oblivious to the lady’s growing infatuation, one of the many reasons why the other rogue became the king of thieves rather than you… or him??? Regardless the look on Victoria’s face when he’d introduced you stuck with him, he decided to keep you close for now just in case

You were at the back of the group, his steps slowed drastically to match yours, though you still had to fast walk to keep up with his much longer legs. You were going on about a tiefling academic you’d hit it off with a while back, the one who’d inspired and helped you develop a spell of your own. It was cheesy, a healing spell for those with ‘high charisma’ as you put it that utilized the castor’s kiss. It was effective and Blackjack won’t deny using it on his own to woo the occasional maiden. 

You went on and on and he could envision the tiefling in question, commenting about other features as you raved about her cute freckles, when he felt a prickle in his scales. Before anyone could react you were in a figure’s hold with a blade to your throat.

Suddenly the air crackled with electricity as the trigger happy sorcerer unleashed a Thunder Wave. Blackjack braced himself for the impact, feeling something wet and warm splatter onto his tunic. He rushed towards your prone body, yelling for help from the cleric only to curse when they had run out of spell slots. 

He sighed, his breath appearing a soft glowing yellow in front of him, he never thought he’d have to use your spell in a serious situation- especially not on you. As he pulled away from your cheek the words manifested on your skin, magic runes snaked down to your neck- glowing that same pale yellow. They ran over your wound until there was no more area to cover and slowly faded as your body repaired itself. 

That wouldn’t be enough. The cleric took you from his hold and started pumping on your chest, trying to force air into your lungs in practiced motions. Your blood covered the pathway and the two of them as they tried to keep you from choking on it. 

Looking back to the fight Blackjack saw the rogue known as Rumor- the one you called Sans- in the very heart of the battle. He sucked in a breath as he heard their foe cry out, Veronica. He was right, but he held no satisfaction in that. She tried to plead, to escape, but that rogue wouldn’t let her. Blow after blow he refused to stop.

Blackjack looked back to you as you spat up blood, finally breathing on your own, and he couldn’t help but pity any fool that tried to come between the two of you. Just friends my ass

Suddenly his attention was pulled from you to the cleric, who was outlined in a fading golden glow along with the rest of the party, who slowly came back to themselves

“Gods above that boy made a mess!” Rumor, the real one he assumed, looked on the body with disgust. Lady Veronica was unrecognizable.

“I assume y’all are back in control then?” Y/n sat up with help. Their voice was raspy, they were still glowing, and when they coughed into their hand their fingertips were fading away. They focused on their now bloody hand and chuckled “Must take bodies longer to transport than souls I guess. For what it’s worth it’s nice to meet you all.”

It couldn’t have taken more than 3 minutes of chatting before they were almost gone.

“It was nice knowin ya player”

“Heh yeah, I’ll miss getting my ass kicked at poker…” You surprised him with a look of sincerity and fondness, trapping his gaze onto you “Thanks for everything Blackjack.”

With one more smile and a farewell wish that we look out for ourselves they vanished back to where they came from. They really were kinder than they had any right to be

Blackjack stood with a sigh and without a word turned around to head back to the tavern they’d stayed in previously. He didn’t know about the others but he could use a drink, and it’d take many many more before he’d ever admit that he alread missed his stupid little protege.

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

Rus wasn’t sure what he was expecting, when Papyrus had gone to get Rant for dinner he figured his friend was just exhausted from participating in your club. The three of you had become fast friends after him and the other ‘undesirable’ skeletons were relocated away from the main house’s relationship issues. 

From what he’d been told you didn’t run into Rant despite having had your face in your phone, doing a little twirl to avoid the other skeleton last second - who had noticed your inattention and been gunning for you from down the hall. Which was just like him, always looking to start something. You’d peaked his interest and after a little chat in the halls he’d let you go to your next class until lunch. 

Rus remembered you had looked so nervous and anxious when Rant had dragged you over to their seats across the lunchroom,literally, but you’d engaged and chatted with the shorter skeleton regardless. And while it took a little time he’d started chatting with you as well, since- as it turned out- the two of you were in the same graphic design course. 

It wasn’t hard to convince the two of them to tag along with you to the DnD club come second semester, Rant had come prepared with a binder full of paper for notes and a separate stack for his character sheet, he’d come up with lots of backstory for his character- meanwhile Rus had a singular almost empty character sheet and took all of the session getting set up while you had multitasked helping him and participating in the pre-game exposition. 

That was only a little over 5 hours ago, so when Rant had come down in a panic with a look that had dread coursing through his bones Rus was a little skeptical something had happened to you. But something told him there was more to it, and the desperation on his friend’s face alone was enough to spur him into action. He wouldn’t take any chances, not with someone he cared about

The moment he opened his sockets his gaze was drawn to your bed and he felt any and all composure he’d mustered up leave him. 

“Y/n!?” A faint glow dissipated as he rushed to your side, crawling onto the bed to get to you in your confined space as he gathered you into his arms. Fuck there’s so much blood, Why-What-How??? Fuck!

He hesitated to take your pulse, the blood around your neck still wet. He couldn’t tell where it all came from and he nearly screamed when your hand shot up and grabbed his, your other clamping around his teeth. Rus jerked back and the motion sent the both of you tumbling off the bed, but you managed to catch him and brace a hand against the wall just past him- effectively stopping the two of you. 

The two of you sat like that for a second before you exhaled, the tension breaking Rus began to fuss over you. 

“Y/n what the fuck happened to you- did Rant have something to do with this? are you okay? do you need to go to the hospital?” 

“No! Nonono I’m fine-”

“You’re Covered In-!” You shushed him, almost covering his face again before he caught your hands. He turned one of your palms towards you, it was the one you’d previously been coughing into and shook the offending arm for emphasis “See!!!” You looked past the skeleton at the wall, there was a bloody handprint you’d have to clean off and you could spot some on one of Rus’ hands 

You shook your head and got back on track, fixing your tall friend with a serious look

“Look Rus, I don’t need a hospital. I just need to get cleaned up and maybe get a bandaid or two. I’m okay, promise.” He only frowned, searching your face before sighing

“you owe me an explanation later.”

“You probably won’t believe me.” You said with a tired chuckle

You scooched off of your bed and slipped off your pack, letting it hit the floor with a thunk and various muted clinks and clangs from your supplies, kits, and other odds and ends.

“can i ask about the wardrobe change now or should i wait?” You snickered as you fiddled with the various buckles attaching your scabbards and pouches to your person before thinking better of it and reaching for the pin clasping the ends of your cloak together and removing the garment. “Is That A Fucking Sword Y/N What The Hell!?!?” 

Your laughter only grew louder as you nodded wordlessly with a grin, looking back at your awestruck friend- who had moved to his knees at the end of the bed, leaning closer to get a better look. 

“Yeah, It ties in with the explanation but yeah it’s real! All of it is- wanna hold?” You’d explained excitedly as you quickly got the straps undone and off your body, removing your shortsword and it’s scabbard from the ensemble and holding it out towards Rus. He took it tentatively before sitting back to admire it. 

You watched on with a proud look on your face, your smile growing when he unsheathed the blade and you caught his eyelights expand before zoning in on the engraving along the blade. It was a simple enough sword but one of your friends had enchanted it for you way back at the beginning when you all were still discovering and learning your class’ skills and you’d kept it close ever since. 

Switching gears you started taking off your armor, which thankfully had taken most of the blood as well as your cloak- leaving your tunic nearly spotless this time around. There was a little soaked in around the collar but it was manageable. In a stroke of genius you grabbed a pair of sweatpants, telling Rus to stay where he was you moved to the alcove in your room that didn’t have your bed and quickly changed pants, throwing your boots and pants into the pile of adventuring gear before smearing blood across your face from your nose. 

A mischievous grin spread across your face when you turned towards your companion

“How do I look?” when you got a concerned look in response your grin only grew “Great! I’ll be right back!” Rushing down the stairs you covered your nose, raising your voice so the whole room could hear you

 “Hey mom?! I don’t know what happened but I got a really bad nosebleed- can I wash some things?” 

Your mother turned from the TV to look at you, eyes widening in surprise and concern “Of course, What happened?”

“I don’t know! I woke up and there was blood everywhere. I think It stopped but it got all over my bed.” 

“Here, let me strip your sheets- you get cleaned up.” 

“Oh no, you don’t gotta do that.! I can get it, just give me a sec.” You tried to wave her off but she insisted, already heading up your stairs. Aaaah fuck Rus isn’t supposed to be here he didn’t use the door!!! 

You felt rather than heard the pop of magic in the air and sighed, You’d have to get with him later, but for now you had blood to clean. You absently wondered if rubbing alcohol worked on leather.

Getting back to your room you looked around and found that all your gear- which you had completely forgotten also shouldn’t have been there- was piled up in the same place you had previously changed, hidden from view of your mother. You also found your phone plugged up on your bed with messages on it’s screen

~Rus~

-text me after dinner 

-i’ll come over w/ rant and you can explain 

Rant? Who’s-OOOOOHHH!!!! Right multiverse shenanigans, Sans is Rant here. As you were going to unlock your phone you got another text from the aforementioned skeleton himself

~Rant~

-RUS SAID YOU WERE ALIVE. I’LL BE TELLING MY BROTHER WHAT HAPPENED TO US IF YOU WOULD…

The message cut off, which concerned you until you remembered that you’d have to enter the app to get the full message since it was so long. Inputting your passcode you re-read the full text

-RUS SAID YOU WERE ALIVE. I’LL BE TELLING MY BROTHER WHAT HAPPENED TO US IF YOU WOULD BE UP TO COMING OVER AND EXPLAINING IT TOGETHER? I’D BE NICE TO NOT LOOK INSANE IN FRONT OF MY ONLY FAMILY

-We’ll see if I can make it after dinner, I owe Rus an explanation too. He actually just texted and said he’d come over with you so /I/ can tell /y'all/ what happened

-You slipped up by the way, you live with your ~cousins~ remember?

-YOU’D BETTER COME OVER…

His bubble appeared and disappeared before he finally responded

- BITE ME PEASANT

-Kinky~

-But also sleep sounds great though

-I HOPE YOUR HANGOVER KILLS YOU

You pocketed your phone with a smirk as you hopped off your bed. Some reheated leftovers sounded amazing right about now, you feel like you could eat a whole feast. You glanced over at your things and considered your unending flask of honey mead before thinking better of it. Sans- fuck RANT- was right. That healing spell would give you a major hangover after you woke up, especially with how much it had to heal. You shivered as you felt your own mortality weigh down on you. 

You’d almost died again, and there were no more resurrection scrolls- especially now that you were home. Your eyes drifted back to the flask…

It couldn’t hurt to celebrate a little could it? Not only are you alive but you’re home! Besides you’re already going to hate life in the morning, why not enjoy a few swigs before that cliff?

You took a long drink and closed the flask, burying it under your things before making your way down the stairs to get something to eat. It wasn’t long after that you were in your usual spot on the couch watching TV with your family and laughing together. You’d even gotten a hug from your mom during a sad scene, and if she noticed you crying a bit more than you meant to then she didn’t say anything. It wasn’t totally unheard of for you to shed a few tears for fiction after all.

[thejoeisthejoe]

Complete (OLD Story Idea): S1 EP 1 Rewrite Joe Sick

Title: Haunted House rewrite where Joe is sick the entire time Author: Robin Gurl Episode: Season 1, Ep 1 Mystery of the Haunted house Notes: yes I’m aware if he’s that sick he should be in bed. But you can’t and won’t convince me otherwise that he’d actually listen and do it. He’s going out there whether we want him to or not. 

Disclaimer: I own no one

“You know, you really shouldn’t be out here.” Frank whispered leaning forward on his bike to get a closer look at the door to the hotel. “You’re already sick as it is.” 

“I’m not letting you do this alone, Frank.” Came the hoarse reply. “Besides if I hadn’t gone with you Aunt Gertrude would have never believed our story.” 

“She shouldn’t have believed it in the first place, we have plenty of cold medicine in the cabinet.” The eldest Hardy didn’t like how he could hear his brother’s teeth chattering slightly. “It’s too cold out here for you, Joe. Let’s just go back home and call dad on the phone.” Frank offered. 

“Frank, there is no way either of us would get any sleep if we did that. Something is going on here and we need to find out what.” 

Frank sighed and looked over at Joe not liking how pale his brother looked in the moonlight. “Just stay zipped up for me, alright?” 

Joe made a face but zipped up his navy blue jacket and glared at Frank playfully, “Happy mom?” 

Frank only rolled his eyes. If they did go home now neither of them would get any sleep. In the long run Joe would get worse because he’d worry causing Frank to only fret more. He’d just have to stay here and make sure Joe at least tried to keep warm. “That’s fine.” 

“Frank, look – is that dad?” “Coming out of the Black Hawk hotel.” Both boys glanced at each other and Frank let out another frustrated sigh, “Alright Joe, you were right. Something is up with dad.” 

“So lets follow him.”

“No way! There is no way I’m backing down on this one. One you’re sick as a dog and two I don’t feel right following my own father.” 

“You can sit here and fret, I’m following him.” Joe started his motorcycle and sped off towards his father. 

Frank sighed and muttered ‘Brothers’ before starting up his own bike and followed Joe. 

*~*

Joe’s vision was blurring and he knew why too. His fever had risen sending chills down his spine. Frank was right, he really should be in bed. He found it hard to press down on the accelerator, his joints screamed with aching pain as he tried to go faster. 

He squinted and tried to focus on his dads car. He had to find out what was wrong with Dad, he just had too. He heard Frank’s cycle join his and glanced over giving Frank a weary look. He was wearing out quickly. He mouthed the word stop and pulled his bike over on the side of the road into the ditch. 

Frank joined him and was off his bike in seconds running over towards Joe. “Joe? What is it?” 

“I can’t see straight, it’s all blurry.” 

“I told you, you’re too sick to be out here.” Frank took off one of his gloves and placed the back of his hand against Joe’s forehead, “You’re hotter than you were before.” 

“I know, I know…” Joe started as he let Frank help him off his bike and on to a sitting position on the grassy shoulder off the main road. “I just, I need to know what’s going on with Dad.” 

“If you crash your bike it won’t matter what is wrong with Dad.” 

Why did Frank always have to be right? He hated that. “So, what do we do?”

“Well I think it’s quite obvious you’re not driving until further notice. Think you could hold on to me and I’ll drive us both?” Frank asked eying his bike. 

“You’re going to still follow Dad?” 

“I think I know where he is heading, so let’s find out.” Frank stood and bent down slightly pulling Joe to his feet. His brother staggered unsteadily and almost fell back over. 

“Frank, I really can’t see right..” 

“Take it easy, I’ve got you. Let me lead.” Frank commanded. 

Carefully he led his brother towards the bike and let go of Joe except for one hand and climbed on the bike. Then he twisted slightly and helped Joe sit on the seat. “Lean forwards and wrap your arms around me- perfect just like that.”

 In response Frank heard a strangled sigh and felt Joe’s feverish face lean against his back. He could feel the heat from the fever through his two heavy layers.  Patting the intertwined hands that were sitting in front of him he shouted, “Alright, hang on!” 

 Frank’s suspicion had been correct; their father was going to grave. Why he was here, Frank didn’t know. 

“Joe?” Frank shouted over the cycle’s engine. “You still with me?” Getting no response he noticed his brother’s embrace had gone limp and Frank knew Joe was out. 

Cursing silently he rode on keeping an eye on his brother’s form. He knew one bump could throw Joe off and onto the pavement. 

Finally coming to the entrance of the cemetery, Frank killed the engine and slowly stopped the bike. Joe didn’t move when Frank tried to get off the bike and almost fell head first into the dashboard. 

“Joe?” Frank started softly, he shook Joe’s shoulder a few times rousing his brother from his sleep. “That’s it.” 

“Frank?” Tousled blonde hair stuck out from the red helmet and glazed brown eyes answered Frank. 

“Where are we?”“Shh, come on.” Frank whispered. “I found Dad.” 

He wrapped one arm around Joe’s shoulders and helped him off the bike then wrapped the same arm around Joe’s waist keeping him up right. He felt Joe lay his head on his shoulder. “Frank, that other car is here.” Joe whispered weakly. 

“So Dad was being followed.” Frank said aloud. “Come on, let’s go see what he’s doing in there.” 

Even sick Joe put up a fight and gave his brother an incredulous look, “In there? In a cemetery?” 

“How else are we going to find out what’s going on with dad?” 

“I don’t think I want to know what is going on in a cemetery in the middle of the night.” 

“You can sit here if you want to and wait on me.”

“No way. Let’s go.” 

“Thought not.” Frank smiled and almost laughed until he remembered just how ill Joe was. 

*~*

“Frank, he’s coming. Let’s get out of here.” Joe hoarsely whispered grabbing onto Frank’s arm for support. 

Frank responded by almost lifting Joe to his feet and pulling him by his arm. The youngest Hardy stumbled forward almost fall over. As he tried his best to follow Frank he saw the mystery man’s car. 

“Frank, stop.” 

“What is it?” 

“Let me go.” Frank let go unsure of what exactly Joe was going to do unable to stand on his own feet at the moment. To his surprise Joe staggered over to the car and pulled the door open sitting in the drivers seat. “Joe, he’s right behind us.” 

He couldn’t tell if his brother was seriously delirious or what. “Joe!” He hissed.

Then he saw his brother take a box of cough drops from the glove compartment. “What a fine time to be stealing cough drops.” 

“I’m not stealing a cough drop I’m lifting a finger print.”

“Joe, I hear him, let’s get out of sight.” Joe stood and wavered unsteadily letting Frank take control again. 

*~*

After a quick stop to the 24 hour grocery store near the house, Frank drove up to their house, Joe fast asleep behind him on one motorcycle. 

The other was hidden in the bushes for Frank to pick up in the morning after he got Joe fast asleep in bed. He shook his brother’s shoulder slightly getting Joe to stir and then helped his little brother into the house and into his father’s study where Callie was. 

She looked quite startled when he produced the bag of cold medicine and his sick brother in one trip. “Frank, where have you two been? Aunt Gertrude has been pacing since you left.” “Callie, do you know what case Dad was working on?”

“Frank Hardy don’t ignore me, where have you two been and why does Joe look so pale? Don’t tell me you dragged him out there with his fever like it is..” 

At Frank’s look, Callie groaned. “Frank, seriously, Joe gets sick easily as it is, he doesn’t need your help.”

“He wouldn’t listen to me and stay in bed. Besides, if he hadn’t come he would have been driving you crazy as well.” Frank tried to reason sitting his brother into the leather chair behind his dad’s desk.

“So your excuse was to get cold medicine?” She asked dryly. “The stuff he can’t even take without knocking him unconscious for 2 days?” Frank laughed nervously shrugging, “Aunt Gertrude didn’t question it.” 

“You could have at least gotten the medication he could take.”  Frank glanced over to his brother who had fallen asleep as soon as he’d been sat down in the chair. “Knocking him out for 2 days may not be such a bad idea.” Callie rolled her eyes before putting more files into the file cabinet. “Now what were you going on about with your father?” “Has he been acting weird or strange?” “No? He went fishing to the lake, Frank. There is nothing suspicious about that. I made the reservations myself.” She crossed her arms glaring tiredly at him. 

“I don’t think he did. Herby Stallmaster saw dad coming out of the county seat yesterday.”

“What?” Her glare lessened, her eyes widening. 

“Yeah we went to the Black Hawk hotel, he was registered there, Callie. We saw him walking out of the hotel ourselves.”

“Well it’s obviously none of our business or at least not mine. Now look, I’m tired and I just finished typing up the notes for your father. I’d like to lock up and go home.” She begged glancing to Joe. “And you need to get him upstairs and in bed properly. He needs to rest.” 

Frank sighed as he stopped his pacing, he nodded running a hand through his hair. “I just... Callie, something is up. I know it is.” 

Callie walked over to him and kissed him gently, “Frank, stop trying to be detective for once. I admire that instinct of yours but sometimes it only makes it worse for you. You’re going to keep yourself up tonight if you don’t calm down. Now get Joe to bed and you go to bed, understand? We’ll worry about your father tomorrow, I promise.” 

Frank kissed her back, he looked defeated as he nodded. “Ok Callie.” 

“And Frank?” 

“Yeah?”

She pulled away and glared at him angerily. “You EVER pull a stunt like this again, I’ll be telling Aunt Gertrude what you did with all the details. Got it?” 

He holds up his hands nodding again. “Got it. Thanks Callie.” 

“See you tomorrow then. Good night.” 

Frank watched her leave and heard the front door close. He sat on the edge of the desk still deep in thought, he gazed over at his little brother watching him sleep. Joe’s face was pale but cheeks flushed with fever. Callie was right, he really shouldn’t have done that. 

It had felt strange to talk and halfway flirt with Callie and not have Joe making some sort of joke or quip about the two of them. He should have enjoyed the precious time he got alone but he didn’t. 

He stood up and walked over to the chair, he knelt down and pulled his brother’s navy coat off placing it on the desk. He would take care of it later. 

Thankfully, Joe was light and weighed hardly nothing. Picking his little brother up was a breeze. Frank easily gathered his brother into his arms, turning off the lights and heading upstairs. 

End Part 1(?) 

If people want this one continued let me know! 

[lizardrosen]

Hamlet at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater

This was a really good production, that I’ve been looking forward to for six months, and it really lived up to the wait! I took two and a half pages of notes of things I remembered or loved, which I’ll try to condense, but regardless, some of this is ending up under a cut.

Characters

Maurice Jones was an incredible Hamlet, really broken up about his father, but so overcome with grief that he had to push that aside for rage at his mother’s infidelity because it was an easier emotion to handle. He was very physically aggressive to other characters, and this performance really illustrated that Hamlet isn’t indecisive because he can’t decide to do anything; he’s indecisive because he acts on each decision right away but doesn’t commit to any of them.

Horatio was a pillar of stability that everyone turned to for a sense of normalcy. Soft-spoken but with his trademark wry humor, he seemed to position himself as a quiet observer from the very beginning, almost like he’d come right from Hamlet’s directive at the end and had to see how things fell out. But he and Hamlet really didn’t seem to be dating, it’s more that Horatio is there for everyone.

Ophelia and Laertes had a really good sibling dynamic, and made fun of their father wonderfully! They physically deflated when he started giving advice, and then imitated his motions exactly when he got to “This above all...” because they’d heard it so often.

Ophelia was a lot of fun, and felt like someone growing out of girlhood into adulthood -- in her first scene she’s playing with a toy boat, and by the end she’s sharp and jaded, (almost the opposite of Hamlet, in that she’s incredibly angry at her circumstances, but that keeps being overwhelmed by grief)

Laertes was really good! In the first act he really played up the “puffed and reckless libertine” aspect, doing anything that was fun for him. But when he got back he was furious of course, but also more thoughtful and willing to listen to reasoned arguments (even if they were given by a gross snake like Claudius, UGH). A very neat way to handle his sense of honor!

Polonius was sincere and a real character trying to help, not a cardboard cutout who says things that don’t make sense so we can laugh at him. And I mean, other characters were making fun of him, but because he felt so real you had to feel bad for him. Sometimes he was almost self aware but then shrugged it off and kept talking

Rosencrantz & Guildenstern had almost an opposite relationship dynamic from how it is in the Stoppard play, which made me laugh, but they were both very good. But Guildenstern seemed shy and unsure, and tried to fit in with the court customs, while Rosencrantz took charge like “don’t worry, baby chick, I’ll take you under my wing”  and then strode forward in the wrong direction. Someone help them, they’re Trying Their Best.

Gertrude and Claudius were really handsy with each other, always sneaking off to kiss, and it’s like they wanted Hamlet to get pissed and vengeful. Claudius stepped very easily into his new position and just acted like it wasn’t a big deal, which possibly dazzled his courtiers into agreeing. I don’t think Gertrude knew he’d murdered Papa Hamlet at first, but became suspicious and watchful after the closet scene. By the time she drank the poisoned goblet she absolutely knew it would kill her

The Players were a queer punk Scandinavian acting troupe, but I love and value all of them, especially the petite tumblr who shyly handed Hamlet a rose just before the Murder of Gonzago started

The Player King came back as the second gravedigger, so he didn’t get to banter with Hamlet. But the comedic timing was perfect in that scene!

Stage and Set

The lighting and music both worked very well, subtly tying into each scene.

The ghost was a black and white video projected onto the back wall, with a lot of smoke in between, so it was even more unsettling and disorienting, and the ghosts voice moved around the house to come from different speakers so you never knew where he was going to be next.

The thrust stage could have been used more effectively, but I’ve seen that kind of stage used really badly and it wasn’t that.

Cool wall hangings with fancy patterning - they were just white with embroidery or something, but with different colored lights shining on them from the top they’d change colors all the way down, and that worked with each scene. So Claudius’s pomp and circumstance was usually orange, Ophelia’s scenes usually got blue, and I didn’t pick up on all the color choices but I felt them

When Polonius dies he pulls one of the curtains down on top of him, and when Claudius dies all the rest fall at once, and the lighting changes from loud and dramatic to something plainer and free of artifice, until it condenses to a white (and very slightly blue) light centered on Hamlet and Horatio

Plot Etc.

Started with Hamlet at his father’s grave, singing until he was too overcome with weeping, and then Claudius and Gertrude ran onstage giggling and kissing, and Hamlet glared at them until he stormed off the stage.

Scene two was a coronation gala and Hamlet, in a black hoodie shouldered between Claudius and Gertrude’s linked hands and headed straight for the snacks table

The Ophelia + Laertes + Polonius scene opens with Ophelia running onstage holding a long blue cloth that trailed behind her like a river, which divided the stage diagonally through the whole scene - a visual marker of how far characters actually are from each other, and where they come together

After the nunnery scene Claudius and Polonius just ignore Ophelia when she’s sobbing on the ground! She was just a tool for them to use and then they stopped paying attention, no wonder she “went mad”! Polonius says “How now, Ophelia” and then doesn’t wait for an answer, just immediately says “You need not tell us what Hamlet said” and is already turning back to Claudius. That said, I think he really does care about his daughter, but tends to reflect the worst of the people around him.

Act One ended at “Bring me some light!” which I was not at all prepared for, but it worked really well because the play’s answer was a sudden blackout and then a slow return to house lights. And then Claudius repeats the line at the top of Act Two and the tableau jumps into startled action

Hamlet was very rough with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and it was just awful (but in a good way). He forces the recorder into Guildenstern’s mouth and sort of pushes him down so he has to bend his knees. It was a clear power play and made everyone Very Uncomfortable. Horatio and Rosencrantz finally pull them apart and Ros helps Guil collect himself, while Horatio sort of tries to comfort Hamlet while also clearly thinking that he’s gone Too Far.

Later when he calls Rosencrantz a sponge he squeezes him around the midsection from behind to hold him still before he suckerpunches him in the gut and it just looks very painful and bad. Besides the fact that he just killed a man, I think that’s what gets Rosencrantz running the fuck away.

The way Hamlet drags Gertrude around in the closet scene mirrors the way he drags Ophelia in the nunnery scene, owwww

The interview with the director in the playbill says that Polonius’s death is the moment the play becomes a tragedy, and you can feel everything draw in and get darker at that point, so good job from all the designers to make that happen!

Buuuut, she also said that “When the men in her life leave her, she implodes in on herself. There’s no other way for that story to end, not for someone as fragile as Ophelia, which I DON’T like. It really showed in how she was played, but the actress did a really good job in that Way Ophelia Is Usually Played. I just want to see a different kind of Ophelia once in a while!

They kept the scene where Hamlet talks with the Norwegian Captain about the territory in Poland!

When Hamlet is putting on an antic disposition he wears his mother’s dressing gown, and in Ophelia’s scenes she wears the shirt her dead father was stabbed in (who gave it to her tho?)

I found it VERY interesting who got which flowers, because it wasn’t at all what I usually see! Gertrude got rosemary, fennel and columbine; Laertes got pansies; Claudius got rue; and Horatio got a daisy.

When Ophelia breaks down about the withered violets she and Laertes end up full on SOBBING together for their father, which was heartrending and probably very good for both of them

Claudius and Laertes make their sinister plans in a sauna in the same trapdoor hole where Ophelia’s grave is in the next scene, and they’re still there when they hear of her death

The priest refused to sprinkle the holy water over the grave at the end of the service, and he just threw the container on the ground and strode away, so the gravediggers did that part instead, which was such a good moment!

Horatio was appropriately horrified at Hamlet switching the letters, and Hamlet was cavalier about it, but he showed enough emotional maturity in that scene overall that you could tell he wasn’t entirely unaffected either.

Definitely not my favorite Osric - for one thing, they left out the Hat bit. I usually read him as a very young man trying really hard to fit into the politicking of Elsinore and agreeing with Hamlet because he feels he has to, and to have him older and well established makes it harder for Hamlet and Horatio to mock, and you feel less bad for him in general. So I guess in that sense it's good that they left out the Hat scene.

When Hamlet is distracted by Gertrude collapsing, Laertes gets in a nasty little cut on the back of the leg, just a frustrated flick of his sword, and then Hamlet retaliates with the same kind of thing — surprising but effective!

Laertes got his full and proper death! YAY! It is so, so, important to me that his life doesn’t end on “The king, the king’s to blame” because he has never been about revenge as much as reparation. They have to forgive each other or the play doesn’t work right!

Horatio wasn’t so much mourning a boyfriend as he was mourning A Life because all lives are precious to him, and he was always there for everyone.

There was gorgeous almost choral music as he holds Hamlet, and a white (blue-ish) light centers on the two of them as Hamlet shakes from the poison.

And yet, even though the beats were clearly spelling out that they were setting up the final image of the play I was shocked that it ended with “flights of angels” and not the clamor of Fortinbras and court intrigue starting up all over again. I think the reason I was so surprised by what is actually a pretty typical ending point is that they did include the bit with the Norwegian captain, and the gravedigger talking about the day Papa Hamlet defeated Papa Fortinbras, so it seemed obvious to me that there would be a continuation of that.

Overall, I really loved this production, even if there were some things I would have done differently!

[corishadowfang]

Cut Scenes: Gertrude and the Haunted House

Another five chapters down, another cut scene for On my Heart!

So this scene--much like the school days cut scene--was cut because the plot kicks off a lot earlier.  Originally, Gertrude found Aiden immediately after the dragon transformation incident and took him home before the police got to him.  It was a fun introduction to Gertrude that summed up her character pretty well, and even if it won’t be in the final version, I’m still pretty happy with how this played out.

On another note, though: people who’ve been following On my Heart long enough probably know that the magic system worked somewhat differently at the start.  Essentially, the dragon transformation was broken down into five stages called ‘Mach Stages’ (a placeholder name that kind of ended up sticking) that ranged from ‘you get a very basic ethereal dragon part’ to ‘congrats you’re now a full dragon!’ with Mach Four and Five being the ones to cause damage.  I ended up simplifying the system to just partial and full transformations for logistical reasons--trying to gradually drag Aiden through each transformation stage and give them all decent screen time was a pretty big challenge, and simplifying it seemed to help the story’s flow.  However, this scene--and probably most of the cut scenes--still reflect that earlier story element.  So when Gertrude says ‘Mach Five,’ she’s really referring to a full dragon transformation.

The scene itself is under the cut!

           Aiden woke to sunlight and several blankets wrapped to his chin.  He groaned and shifted, closing his eyes a moment longer.

           This isn’t my house.

           His eyes snapped open, but he didn’t move.  He flexed his fingers.  His head ached.  What happened?  Kiru?

           The Familiar sent a wave of acknowledgement, but remained huddled near his heart, occasionally pulsing warmth.

           He took a deep breath and moved.  The blankets fell into his lap.

           The room looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time.  Cobwebs and dust filled the corners.  A dresser was propped against the wall, stained and cracked.  The bedside desk and the bed itself seemed to be the main things in working condition.

           A towel lay crumpled on the floor.  Clothes that weren’t his were folded on the desk, a note on top: Figured you could dress yourself.

           Aiden held it a few moments, then pulled on the clothes.  They draped his body, and he had to tie the pants tight.  His fingers fumbled, and eventually he sat again, shaking, breathing hard.

           Kiru stirred.  S’okay.

           He gripped his shaking wrist.  What happened? he repeated, trying to organize the memory fragments.

           Some guy attacked us.  Fell in the river.  I got us out.

           Got us out.  Kiru, how did you get us out?  He remembered the man.  He remembered bright light and noise and then—nothing.

           After a while—enough time for him to stop shaking and his heart to stop pounding—he left the room.

           The house, he quickly realized, was small; a hallway connected ‘his’ room, a bathroom, and another bedroom.  Down the hall, to either side, were a kitchen and a living room.  He stalled, recognizing the couch, the miscellaneous medical supplies.  “We’re in the haunted house?”

           This finally stirred Kiru to phase out, eyes dull, but his head leaning closer, tail swishing rapidly for balance.

           “Well,” a female voice said, loud, “I wouldn’t call it haunted just yet.  Maybe if I die in here someday.”

           Aiden leapt away, hands lifted defensively.

           Kiru growled, claws unsheathing.

           The woman lifted her hands.  “Relax, kid. Not here to pick fights.”  The clothes, Aiden realized after a moment, must have come from her—she wore a baggy, sleeveless hoody and sweatpants, her hair tied in a loose, messy ponytail.

           “Who are you?” he asked finally, self-consciously tugging a sleeve.

           The woman snorted. “Gertrude.  Sit down, dear.  I’m sure you have questions, and so do I.”

           Aiden eyed her warily, then eventually took a seat on the couch.

           “Comfy?  Want something to eat?”  She moved to the kitchen.

           “Why am I here?”

           “Guess not.”  She turned on the stove and set a kettle. “Because I found you naked and half-conscious in an alleyway.”

           “What?”  He blinked several times.  “I—what?”

           “With that mob of people around—though they still seemed pretty startled—couldn’t just leave you.”  She leaned against the doorframe.  “Didn’t exactly have an address, so you’re here.”

           He stared.  “That’s it.  This is a dream.”

           “The delusions starting already, hun?”

           “What delusions?”

           Her expression fell from mild amusement to something more serious.  “From Mach Five.”

           For a few moments the words didn’t register.  They sank in slowly, Kiru’s earlier comments clicking into place, and he was suddenly baffled by how she could deliver such news so casually.

           “You don’t remember at all, do you?”  

           She knelt, and Aiden flinched away.  She caught his wrist and gripped it, and suddenly Aiden was staring at that man again, and jerked, half-growling, “Let me go!”

           Gertrude released him.  “Sources say you burst out of the river, but I’d guess you had some problems before then, hm?”  Her Familiar phased out.  It pushed close to his face, only to be batted away by Kiru.

           “Checked your vitals last night.  Nothing’s wrong quite yet, it seems.  So I guess that just leaves what you’re going to do.”

           “What?”

           The kettle whistled.  Gertrude poured some water, slipped in a teabag, and set the kettle aside.  “You caused quite a scene, dear.  People are bound to be talking.  So here’s the rundown.  Police normally take Mach Five users, though more as a courtesy than anything else—just making sure they don’t use Mach Five again for however long they’re still alive.” She threw the teabag away.  “Mach Five deteriorates the body primarily—pretty unnatural to entirely change your bone and muscle structure—with potential mental deterioration near the end.  Cases vary, depending on the length of use.  Sometimes the problems are obvious and the user lasts only a couple days. Sometimes they’re less so and they make it a few weeks.  Pretty rare to find someone who survives, but I suppose it’s not unheard of.”  She sipped her tea.

           Aiden stared at his fingers.

           “So, in other words, you’ve got yourself into some hot water.  Even if you make it out of this with minimal problems, you’re still facing jail time. So,” she knelt again, “I’d like to know why.”

           “You know why.  I was—Kiru forced me to Mach Five—”

           “No, no.  What happened before?  What pushed you to use Mach Five in the first place?”

           “Is that the reason you rescued me?  So you could ask?”

           “Perhaps.”  She shrugged. “Got to find something to occupy my mind.”

           Aiden didn’t answer for several long moments. “There was this guy.  He attacked me, and I fell in the river.  I don’t remember anything after that.  Kiru said he got me out, so I guess that’s how.”

           “Kiru?”

           “The Familiar.”

           Gertrude side-eyed him for a long moment.  “Sounds like this guy’s the source of your problems, then.”  She stood. “I suppose it’s possible. Familiars are supposed to act as bodyguards, of sorts.  Could’ve sensed you were struggling and done the only thing it could to save you.”  Something almost disappointed underlay her voice.

           Aiden clenched his hands between his legs.  For a few moments he sat still.  “My parents.”  His head jerked.  “I didn’t go home last night.  Shit. Mom’s probably freaking out.  She probably called the police—”

           Kiru whipped towards him.

           “Mm, yeah.  That’d be a problem.”

           “Thank you for that stunning summation.”

           “Welcome.”

           Kiru laughed.

           “So,” Gertrude said, “the question is, what are you going to do about it?”  She tilted her head.  “Not quite ready for this to become a real haunted house yet.”

           “I—I need to get home.”  He stood, tried to find his coat, realized he no longer had it.

           Kiru kept a wary eye on the green Familiar.

           Gertrude eyed him a few long moments.  Then she grinned, waving him off.  “Well, toodles.  So long, kid.  Hope no police find you on the road.”

           Aiden stopped.

           “You going to wait around until you keel over? Might not have to wait that long.”

           He stiffened.

           “Relax.  If you can’t laugh at your misfortune, well.”  She shrugged.  “Good luck, dear.”  She went to the other bedroom and closed the door.

           The green Familiar remained in the hall, unblinking.

           Aiden exhaled.  “Let’s just go.”

Tag list: @siarven, @focusdumbass, @paladin-andric, @onedayiwillfind--if you wanted to be added to/removed from the tag list, please let me know!

[oddcoupler222]

Hi can you recommend some of your favorite fanfics

Since you didn’t specify which fandom you want my favorite fics from, I’mgoing to give you ALL OF THEM

Sanvers: (Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer - Supergirl)

by InspectorBoxer -

The Lighthouse Technique - Kara grinned. “I already have a plan. A foolproof technique, in fact, to get Maggie Sawyer’s full attention.” pre 2x08/Sanvers getting together (complete - 4 chapters, 5k words)

also she has tons of short and sweet oneshots and all of them are entertaining and worth reading. And she co-writes:

I Can’t Believe We’re Here - “I don’t know how to tell you this, Detective, but I’d like to introduce you to Jamie. Your daughter.” A post 3x05 fix-it fic, in which Maggie has a surprise daughter and the characters and plot are all A+ (currently incomplete but READ IT ANYWAY. 12 chapters, 71k words)

The above fic is part of the you and i collide series, all comprised of very well-written and in character reunion fics, written by zennie.

More by Zennie -

Worth the Fight - After the kiss, Alex and Maggie struggle to get back to friendship and maybe more. Also, Maggie is targeted by assassins and Alex is protective (complete - 7 chapters, 28k words)

Headstrong - Maggie challenges Alex to a race. It doesn’t end like either of them planned. (incomplete technically, but leaves off in a good place. 6/7 chapters, 11k words)

Also has a ton of one shots/shorter stuff worth reading

by performativezippers -

Spin Doctor (Grown Ass Woman) - Maggie doesn’t really talk to other people while she’s at the spin studio – she’s not, as they say, there to make friends – but everyone tends to do friendly nods and say hi, especially in the locker room, and she does the same. So she’s gotten know most of the teachers and many of the other morning clients by sight. So she’s sure this is the first time she’s seen this new woman. She’d definitely have remembered someone like that. (complete, 9 chapters, 37k words)

Lexie (Five-Inch Heels) - “I’m Lexie,” she says, and it’s clearly a fake name but that doesn’t bother Maggie. She’ll only need to know a legal name if this girl ever gets booked and Maggie has to intervene. She hopes it never comes up.

“Nice to meet you, Lexie.”

Lexie just stares at her, and Maggie can’t tell if she’s smirking of if it’s a trick of the light.

“Sure it is,” she finally says, and oh, yes, she was smirking.

Maggie decides to forgo delicate, and asks her next question bluntly, her hands back in her pockets. “What brings you out tonight?”

“Astronomy.” Lexie deadpans. “Been a while since I’ve last stargazed; thought I’d commune with nature and all that shit.” (complete, 4 chapters, 10k words)

by ReaderExtraordinaire -

Science Fairs and Spring Breaks -

What if Alex and Maggie had a chance meeting at a high school science fair? How much of an impact can one long distance friendship really have? After all, who meets their soulmate at 17? (complete - 18 chapters, 90k words)

by cairophoenix -

Track Changes - Alex is an editor at a New York publishing house, and that means her life is going right. She has her apartment, and the gym, and Kara a subway stop away. So if her apartment’s always empty at the end of the day, that’s just how things are. She spends a lot of time at the office, anyway. She’s making it, and that’s something she can be satisfied with. And then a mysterious book arrives. (Complete - 1 chapter, 44k words)

by colourmeblue -

there’s a piece of me that i’ve been seaching for - The first time she sees Maggie Sawyer, she’s not that impressed. A fake relationship AU (complete - 4 chapters, 30k words)

every inch of me there is to trace - Maggie contemplates Chinese food, beer and Netflix as her evening plan. The proximity to her previous life requires a distraction that only alcohol can achieve. Her mind does flash to Alex, though. What she’s doing tonight. How easy it would be to just call her. Or even see her, if she still lives at the same apartment. However, she’s immediately turned away from that idea at the thought of someone else answering the phone or the door. (incomplete, recently updated. 4/10 chapters, 13k words)

by bltbackwards -

Red Fish Blue Fish - Alex Danvers is the head marine biologist and veterinarian at the National City Aquarium, where Maggie Sawyer is the new night guard. One chance encounter leads to two, which leads to meetings not at all by chance. OR The one where Gertrude is a dolphin, Maggie’s got a prosthetic leg, Alex is a brilliant nerd that keeps food in her lab coat, Kara is the literal ray of sunshine everyone adores, and Lena is a genius who loves marine animals. (complete - 10 chapters, 35k words)

by Roadie -

Ashes and Embers - Fairytale AU. Wherein Alex is sort-of-but-not-really-Cinderella, Maggie is sort-of-but-not-really-also-Cinderella-crossed-with-a-fairy-godmother, James Olsen is the nobility we all know him to be, and Gertrude is a horse sidekick. (complete - 5 chapters, 12k words)

by alittlelesspain -

no hiding place -  So far in the past week, Maggie has been kidnapped, stunned, shot at, and now she has gone and put a considerable amount of professional and personal trust in the woman who had been doing the kidnapping, stunning, and shooting. She should be terrified. Instead, Maggie feels the most alive that she’s felt in years.

Or, the one where Alex is supposedly a criminal, Supergirl is supposedly dead, Lex Luthor is actually President, and Detective Maggie Sawyer has to deal with it all. A canon-divergent Sanvers AU. Slowburn. (complete - 13 chapters, 150k words)

by Lurkz -

I Just Want To Change My Future - Maggie was just hoping to finally have a stable enough job that allowed her to continue helping aliens and maybe finally meet someone who would decide she was worth sticking with. She wasn’t really expecting her new job to involve suspicious acting scientists that happened to be related to her new boss’s girlfriend.

All Alex wanted to do was work in her lab, finish this pseudo-undercover duty at L-Corp, destroy Cadmus, and find her father. She didn’t have time for nosy ex-detective security chiefs. (incomplete/still being updated. 16/? chapters, 77k words)

by thrace -

but the fruit is sweet - Sometimes doing the right thing sucks // Or, Maggie can’t figure out why Supergirl is suddenly giving her the cold shoulder. Post 2x06. (complete - 1 chapter, 15k words)

by seaunicorn -

Cursed - Alex’s sixth year at Hogwarts is thrown for a loop when her father Jeremiah is killed that summer.  It seems the only thing that makes her feel normal anymore is her newfound friendship with longtime quidditch rival (and Hufflepuff’s new team captain) Maggie Sawyer (complete, 1 chapter, 26k words)

To Build A Home - Maggie’s apartment is on fire, so she shows up on Alex’s doorstep… and Alex could never say no to Maggie. (complete - 3 chapters, 15k words)

(and a handful of other good little oneshots)

by izzie456 -

pizza and pajamas - Alex’s finger froze in place and her eyes widened as, under “Special Delivery Instructions,” she read:“send your cutest delivery girl, please ;)”A beat of silence. Then:“Oh. My. God.”“Alex, please don’t–”“What the  hell,  Kara?”

An AU where Kara tries to get Alex to start dating again with an unusual plan, and Maggie is a pizza delivery girl (complete - 4 chapters, 35k words)

by adieu_sweetamaryllis -

communion - Four years — she’d made it four years without having Maggie Sawyer in a single class of hers despite them both going to the same school. If she hadn’t seen her once or twice across campus she would’ve thought the girl never actually ended up attending National City University, despite both of them getting acceptance letters a few weeks before — well, before everything went up in flames. (incomplete - 18/21 chapters, 126k words)

by DisplacedWarrior -

I would move mountains to make you smile - Alex was just looking for a way to handle her giant crush without talking about it, she had no idea creating an anonymous Instagram account for her cheesy sapphic poetry would cause this much of a stir.  It has half the school starry-eyed but what about the one girl it was intended for?  (complete 1 chapter, 10k words)

by swanmills -

let me be your goodnight - alex meets an annoying new agent in the batch of this year’s trainees. alternate meeting au  (complete, 1 chapter, 4k words)

handfuls of other short/sweet oneshots by this author

and because I’m a masochist who is branching out into being a sadist, I’m going to recommend a very much incomplete story that I doubt will ever be finished but I reread it often and bemoan that it’s incomplete because it was SO GOOD and I want to drag everyone else down memory lane with me

wildfire -  Alex has seen beautiful women before, her sister is one of them, but not one has ever taken her breath away so quickly it felt like she was being knocked over.  Maybe it was simply the shock of seeing another person here when the school had seemed so desolate.  Or maybe, maybe, it was because that was the most beautiful woman that Alex has ever seen.or the one where alex teaches chemistry, maggie teaches history, and they teach each other a little something about falling in love (so incomplete. 3/? chapters, 25k words)

by lordvoldyfarts, who also has several shorter oneshots that I adore

moving on!

General Danvers: (Alex Danvers/Astra In-Ze - Supergirl)

Sword of Damocles - Canon divergent from 1x13: When Hank shows up on the rooftop to stop Astra from activating Myriad, Astra manages to outmaneuver him, taking Alex hostage as a means of escape. Now, Alex finds herself a prisoner at the hostile Fort Rozz base, but as time goes by, she and Astra begin to form an unexpected bond, challenging each of their beliefs, and loyalties.(complete - 27 chapters, 134k words)

Occupational Hazard - A comedy of errors in which Astra seriously misinterprets things. Seriously. Misinterprets. Things. This is a Human AU, so she doesn’t even have the excuse of being an alien to justify her Serious Misinterpretation of Things. She’s just that socially awkward of an Environmental Sciences professor who is head over heels for the obliviously charming-as-all-hell medical school dropout Alex Danvers.Basically, everyone is confused, smut runs rampant, as do silly tropes, stupidly oblivious mutual pining, and eventually, Feelings. Also Non is a surprisingly effective wingman, even though he very honestly had no intention of being one. Seriously, everyone is just so confused. (technically incomplete but read it, that is an order. 7/? chapters, 42k words)

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This - In which Astra watches TV for the first time, falls asleep, and has a series of seven very bizarre dreams, each of which ends with her falling in love with one Alexandra Danvers. Which is just silly. Humans are ridiculous. Why would General Astra In-Ze ever fall for a human, even a human as brave, and clever, and kind, and strong, and impassioned, and protective, and brilliant, and beautiful and…damn it. (complete - 7 chapters, 36k words)

all by uisceB. Just read everything this person has authored. Just do it.

Anyway, I have a whole GD fic rec already done! It was done almost a year ago, though, so I would recommend checking out anonymississippi and alittlelesspain to see what they’ve done in the meantime!

Sansaery: (Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell - Game of Thrones)

I can provide you with my past fic rec for that here and also with a handful of more recent fics than that first one, here!

Faberry: (Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray - Glee)

Sooooo many fics! Enough for two previous rec lists here and here!

Bechloe: (Beca Mitchell/Chloe Beale - Pitch Perfect)

Here is a whole rec list :)

Jetra: (Jane Villanueva/Petra Solano - Jane the Virgin)

marry me a little by celaenos - Petra swallows, remembering the night in the stairwell. Thinking about how it was the first time Jane had felt real to her since the day they met, and how she didn’t want it to end, and how that was so, so dangerous. To want like that.(Or, Jane marries Petra to save her from Milos. And things start to get real complicated after that.) (complete - 18 chapters, 110k words)

Cartinelli: (Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli - Agent Carter)

the mothering of us by QuickYoke and ratherembarrassing - The Black and White Ball was a masquerade ball held on November 28, 1966 at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Hosted by author Truman Capote, the ball was in honor of The Washington Post publisher, Katharine Graham. – Director Carter attends. (one of the best fics I’ve ever read. Complete - 3/3 chapters, 60k words)

Living Arrangements by netgirl_y2k - Angie almost says, I think Peggy and me are basically married, and I don’t think she’s noticed, just to see the look on Jarvis’s face. (Complete - 1 chapter, 3k words)

i broke my bones playing games with you by mooosicaldreamz - Captain America wakes up and causes quite the scene too, bursting into the middle of Times Square and turning circles around in wonder. The video plays over and over on the news, which Angie watches then, over and over, at the diner. There’s the gorgeous Peggy Carter, at the center of a storm of suits and Escalades, staring up at the big lights. She doesn’t look a day over 26, and honestly, Angie thinks she looks beautiful. Modern day AU where Peggy is Captain America. (complete - 2 chapters, 22k words)

Tony and the Gal Pals by comicbooklovergreen - “Hey Peg, you here? You’re never here early. Should I be worried?”Tony froze, looking to Peggy for direction. Only then did she think that perhaps she should’ve consulted Angie before absconding with Howard’s child and bringing him to their home. Or, the one where Peggy gets tired of Howard’s negligence and does something about it. (complete - 3 chapters, 16k words)

Faithfully Yours by nofearqueerhere - Angie sends a letter overseas in a “write to our boys” campaign for the war effort. She doesn’t count on it falling into the hands of Agent Carter of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. But she doesn’t exactly complain, either. (complete - 13/13 chapters, 18k words)

Shoot: (Root/Sameen Shaw - Person of Interest)

the domestic hell series by enginerd - The machine has a funny sense of humor when it gives the team a new setof ID’s.  Suddenly Root and Shaw are married in the New York suburbsplaying house.  What happens when the machine puts you in a house that wasthe block Halloween Party house for years?  

OR: Root and Shaw are in suburbia throwing a Halloween party. God helpthem. (4 words in the series, all one shots between 10k-15k)

Kismet and Other Movements by aelysian - She can’t see her without craning her neck, but she can picture themischievous gleam in brown eyes, the sharp cuspids that add bite to the flirtysmile.

 “Are we playing, Sameen?  You haven’t told me what the rulesare.” Soulmate AU. (complete - 5 chapters, 17k words)

The 32nd Annual IFTEC by ionizable - University AU where Root and Shaw have been forced to work together to plan and run their school’s engineering competition. In no particular order, there will be: “oops I accidentally fell in love with you” Root, an excruciatingly slow build, jealous Shaw, jealous Root, donut thievery, eventual smut, backstories, nerdiness, things moving right along to the complex plane after the midpoint, and most importantly: cheesy science jokes! bad puns and corny jokes! (complete - 12 chapters, 41k words)

connective tissue by bightly_bightly - “In a world where you can always find something to die for, Root gives you everything to live for."Root and Shaw, feelings and sex. This started out as me wanting an excuse to write the line "If you want that, you’re gonna have to do better than pancakes and light bondage” and it just sort of… evolved. (Complete - 14 chapters, 50k words)

Natural Selection by kesdax - They keep their heads down. They survive. Until their number comes up. Post Season 3 finale. (complete - 14 chapters, 55k words)

Fish Out Of Water by donteatmyfingerprints - Completely AU. A mermaid. There is a mermaid in front of her. (Sooooo au, but so weirdly good. Complete - 3 chapters, 15k words)

Swan Queen: (Regina Mills/Emma Swan - Once Upon a Time)

Send Up a Signal (that everything’s fine) by coalitiongirl

Emma Swan is catapulted into stardom, the newest lead actress on asanitized show featuring modern fairytales. Regina Mills is a long-underminedstar with a chip on her shoulder and a thousand reasons why she’s invested.Naturally, they loathe each other on sight.

Their characters’ fanbases, however, have other ideas. (complete - 21 chapters, 117k words)

and everything else by coalitiongirl. Really there are just too many to name.

step into my office baby by foxbones - This is what you get for doing the nice thing, Emma thinks. You do that whole Pay It Forward bullshit - you buy a lady some coffee and you pretend like it isn’t totally motivated by how she looks in a pencil skirt - and she goes and insults your business card and turns out to be your company’s new Executive Director. Real fucking cute.From now on, she is drinking tea. or, the one where they’re in an office. (complete - 16 chapters, 41k words)

Wedding Crasher by misscanteloupe - “My sister, Zelena,” she spits out the name like it’s poison, “Is getting married this weekend in California. My mother is potentially the biggest pain in the ass when it comes to who I take in as lovers. I need someone who will aggravate her to no end and keep her from meddling in the future.”

Emma blinks. “Why me?”

“My mother hates blondes.”

“Oh,” Emma says slowly, and god. She gets the feeling she’s signed herself up for one fucked up family reunion. “Cool.” (complete - 1 chapter, 6k words)

Deliver Me by wistfulwatcher -  “I was told a double rush order would be here in twenty minutes or less,” she said coolly, and gestured to the clock on the wall beside them. 

Looking over, Emma saw the face reading 6:45, just a few minutes past the twenty minute deadline. Eyes narrowing slightly, she licked her lips. “Yeah, it’s just a couple minutes past,” Emma said, and shifted her weight to one hip.

Tilting her chin up slightly she repeated, “Twenty minutes or less,” and Emma felt her head start to pound. What a way to end the day. (Complete - 5 chapters, 38k words)

A Fine Line by hunnyfresh - Upon Regina’s banishment, the small town of Storybrooke becomes protected once again by an enchantment that prevents anyone from leaving or entering Storybrooke. Emma and Regina find themselves on the edge of the town, wishing for a way to the other side. (Complete - 3 chapters, 18k words)

… I’ll see myself out. I hope you enjoy some!

[maraschinosqueeze]

Love Potion no. 9

Summary: In an effort to stop Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack from catching her, Rowena slips Team Free Will 2.0 a love potion. Unfortunately for her, the formula doesn’t work on two members.  

Relationships: Dean/Cas, Sam/OFC, Jack/OFC

Series: 21 Days of Destiel Reveals, Day 2

If you’d rather read on ao3: x

If you wish to be tagged in this series of one shots please let me know in the comments. Also please tell me if you want to read more of this fic. If it’s popular, I may write more. I enjoyed it.

~Present~

Dean was losing his patience. He was at a gas-n-sip with Sam, Cas, and Jack. They were frustratingly close to catching up to Rowena. They’d actually found one of her safe houses a few hours ago, but she had already skipped out. Lucky for them, they’d caught wind of witch-like activity not far from here so they weren’t far behind her. It made Dean’s skin itch to be so close to finding her and not on the road. But they had all needed a break from driving all day and night, so here they were. Sam needed to use the restroom. Jack wanted nougat. Cas said he wouldn’t mind seeing if the hotdogs tasted any less moleculey than the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, whatever that meant. So he’d been forced to stop. He supposed Baby could use a fill-up, but he’d been waiting for 10 minutes and they still hadn’t come out of the damn minimart.

Dean was on the verge of going in and dragging them out when Cas came out looking disturbed and concerned. He hopped into the front seat. “Sam and Jack are acting… strange. Are you feeling okay?”

“What do you mean strange? I feel fine. Ready to frickin’ go. What is taking so long?” Dean looked back at the door to the minimart to see if they’d come out yet.

“Well… They… I don’t know what’s going on? They won’t stop talking.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Well can’t they do that in the car? Jesus. Let’s go!”

Cas looked uncomfortable. “No, I don’t mean they are talking to each other. Jack is talking to the checkout clerk. And Sam is talking to a woman he passed on his way to the bathroom. Well… talking isn’t really the word for it.”

Dean furrowed his brow in his confusion. “Cas, I don’t understand. Spell it out for me.”

“He’s uh… kissing her.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up. He was impressed; that wasn’t usually Sam’s style. “Huh… well that is strange, for Sam. But not necessarily a bad thing, right?”

Cas looked more uncomfortable, if that was possible. “No, I guess not. But Jack… he’s… Well, he’s flirting with the checkout clerk. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Dean thought about it. “Yea, I guess it is. But good for him, right? I mean I wish they didn’t choose now to pick up chicks, but…” Dean shrugged his shoulders rather than finish. He looked back at the door and then glanced at the clock on the dash. 20 minutes. “They have been in there for a while, though. I’ll go in and tell them to get a move on.”

Dean walked briskly in the store, intending to tell the lovebirds to get their numbers and call them later. They really had to go if they had any hope of catching up with Rowena. He saw Jack first. He was leaning over the counter, talking animatedly to the clerk. He’d moved over slightly to make room for the people in line. Most of them were giving him dirty looks as he distracted the clerk from doing her job. She was covered in ink and had piercings sticking out of her face in a dozen places. She had thick black eyeliner on. She wasn’t bad looking, and Dean didn’t know if Jack even had a type, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised this was it. Dean wasn’t one to judge on appearances though, so after the initial shock he thought nothing else of it.

He approached Jack and pulled his elbow. Jack turned sharply with his angry ‘I’m going to telepathically throw you and everyone here across the room’ look on his face so Dean immediately put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Woah, hey… I just came to tell you we gotta get going, Jack. You’ve been in here for a while.” He glanced up at the clerk, and checked her name tag. “Why don’t you ask, uh, Vivian here for her number so we can get on the road.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “It’s Vi,” she corrected around her bubblegum. “And no thanks. I’m good. I’ve been tryin to get him away from me.”

Dean looked at Jack for confirmation, but his confidence didn’t look the least bit shaken. “We’re in love, Dean.” Dean’s eyes went wide as golf balls. He looked around the store, but it had emptied.

He spoke sternly to Jack, now. “Kid. She says, she’s not interested then she’s not interested. I know you’re not… uh… I mean you haven’t… Look, Jack, that’s just a hard pass. If a girl says no, that’s the end of the story. So let’s go.”

“But –”

“No. There’s no buts. Come on. We have to go. Remember? Come on.” Jack didn’t look like he was going to budge, so Dean leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Cas is in the car. Why don’t you go ask him for some pointers?” Jack considered that and finally nodded. With one last wistful look at Vi, he turned and moped out the door.

Dean sighed and turned to Vi. “Uh, sorry about that. He’s not usually like that. I don’t know what got into him.” He went looking for Sam, anxious now about what he would find. Sam, at least, was more experienced with women. He was certain he wouldn’t find Sam harassing an unwilling girl.

He froze when he spotted Sam. He had a woman pressed up against the wall with his arms, making out in an embarrassingly sloppy frenzy. That alone was enough to make Dean cringe, but what really did it was who the woman was. She looked to be at least 60, possibly older. She was clutching a cane and had hair as white as a cloud.

“Sam! What the hell are you doing?” he squawked, before he could stop himself. Sam pulled off the woman’s lips with a loud smack. “What does it look like, Dean? Can we get some privacy? You’re kinda killing the mood.” The woman had a dreamy, breathless look on her face.

“Get some privacy?! Sam we’re in a gas-n-sip for fucks sake! And we have to leave. Now. You’ve been in here for…” he checked his watch, “30 freaking minutes! Come on, let’s go!”

“No, Dean. I’m not leaving Gertrude.” Dean couldn’t have prevented that eye-roll if he had tried. Of course her name is Gertrude. Jesus.

“Sam I’m sure she will be here later if you really want to see her again. We really have to go. Or did you forget what we’re here for?” Sam seemed to struggling immensely with deciding what to do. He kept looking between Gertrude and Dean. It looked like Gertrude could sense his distress because she decided to intervene. “It’s okay sweet cheeks. Come visit me later.” She produced a pen out of thin air and wrote her number on Sam’s hand. Dean grimaced and grabbed Sam’s arm, dragging him away as Sam tried desperately to get a goodbye kiss from Gertrude.

As soon as they got outside, Sam shook off Dean’s grip and starting railing into him. “What was that about, Dean? What could be so important you had to tear me away from the love of my life?”

“The love of your life! Jesus, Sam! You only just met her a half hour ago, for one thing.” He got into the car and turned the engine over. Sam flopped in next to him. “And for another, she was like 80 freaking years old! What the hell, Sam?”

Sam just sulked. Dean looked at Cas in the rear view mirror. Cas looked uncomfortable still, maybe more than before. Jack looked about ready to cry.

It was a very awkward drive to their destination. When they got there, Jack and Sam refused to get out of the car. They were wearing identical bitch faces and crossing their arms tightly across their chests.

As they walked, Dean asked, “So what do you think, Cas? What’s wrong with them?”

“Sirens maybe?” Can offered. Dean had already ruled that out, though. “No… can’t be. The clerk wasn’t even into Jack. Why would she poison someone and then refuse to touch him?” Poison, though. Hm. Sam was acting remarkably similar to how he’d acted with Becky that time he went and married her because she was force-feeding him love potions. “Did they… they didn’t drink anything at Rowena’s, did they? Maybe it’s a love potion. I’ve seen Sam act like this before. He was being drugged with a love potion by some chick who was working with a demon.”

“No, I didn’t see them drink anything. And Sam would never be stupid enough to drink something Rowena had left laying around, anyway.” Dean knew Cas had a point, but he couldn’t let the idea go. “Maybe it was a hex bag she left? Or a sigil or something? Maybe we should go back and check.”

“It’s possible, but then… why aren’t we affected by it?” Another good point. A niggling voice at the back of his mind told him he was always affected, and didn’t need a damn potion to do it, but he pushed that thought away like he always did.

Rowena wasn’t there, and since they had no further leads and no idea how to break whatever spell Sam and Jack were under, they decided to head back to Rowena’s safe house. When they passed the infamous gas-n-sip, Jack and Sam both started throwing hissy fits about stopping. Dean kept driving but pacified them by promising both Vi and Gertrude were waiting for them at the safe house. He’d seen that on Harry Potter, but he would let Sammy marry Gertrude before he ever admitted that to him.

It turned out Cas had been right about the hex bags. They burned them and Jack and Sam were back to themselves instantaneously. Sam looked appalled. Jack looked… well Jack looked a bit broody most of the time, so really no change there.

Back at the bunker, Sam went straight for the library (shocker). He emerged several hours later holding his laptop and a beat-up book. Dean waited expectantly.

“So get this, there’s a love charm in this book. Well, it’s not really love that it creates. More like infatuation. Anyways, it was bothering me why the spell didn’t work on you and Cas. So I cross references the spell with some stuff Charlie had documented when she started hunting. Remember she made that whole program?” Dean nodded and indicated for Sam to continue. “Right, so it says here that the spell won’t work on anyone who’s already found their soulmates.” Sam looked pointedly at Dean after he said that.

Dean tried desperately to control his emotions. “What are you trying to say? My soulmate was Lisa? Well that sucks. And whose was Cas? Meg?” Sam put on his best bitchface, which Dean ignored.

Later in his room, he chewed over the conversation while he tried to go to sleep. Did Cas even have a soul? How could he have a soulmate with no soul? And there was no way Lisa was Dean’s soulmate. No. He liked her, sure. Maybe even loved her. It wasn’t easy to leave, but that had more to do with the danger he had put her in than the way he felt about her. No. Lisa was not his soulmate. If it was anyone, it had to be – NO. He was not gonna let himself go there. There was nothing but heartache and disappointment down that path.

~Two Months Later~

“So, Dean… how’d you like that little gift I left for you?”

“Gift? Oh, you mean the spell you put on Sam and Jack? Yea, thanks for that. It was a blast,” he deadpanned.

“Sam and Jack? What… Didn’t you go in as well? That’s a shame. I was hoping to give you a little prod in the right direction. You see? Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

“Oh no, I went in. It just didn’t work on me and Cas. Guess you’re not as powerful as you thought you were.”

“That’s not possible. Unless… Well, I suppose I could have underestimated how deeply you were in love with each other.”

Dean felt a blush rise up his neck all the way to his ears. Cas’ mouth dropped. Sam smirked. Jack looked puzzled.

“Dean, what is she talking about?” Cas asked, disbelief coating his tone.

Rowena looked delighted at Cas’ question. “Oh, just that you two are so deeply in love with each other that the spell didn’t affect you.”

@writergirl-26​ @books-are-for-escaping​

[centaurianthropology]

The Magnus Archives ‘The Uncanny Valley’ (S03E07) Analysis

And to round out our narrator bonanza, who should return, but GERTRUDE!!  Whoo!  I had honestly worried that we might not be hearing more from her after Basira stopped passing Jon tapes, but I really should have known that Elias, in his horrifying fairy godmother fashion, would deliver.  And damn, did he deliver.  Because this episode is dense with information, and the stakes for the series just shot sky-high.  Come on in to hear what I think of ‘The Uncanny Valley’.

One, I love how Gertrude actually took on an ever-so-slight Welsh lilt for the duration of the narration.  Seriously, Jonny’s mother is a damn talented actress and I’m always over the moon when she comes on to do a narration.  Secondly, this story was hilarious!  Sebastian the utterly oblivious plumber just joined my top narrators of all times so easily by how obtuse he was.  Here’s this horrific drain full of offal and blood, and he’s just like, “Yep, that sure looks clogged.  Let me get that for you.”  Megan spends her time threatening to strip the flesh and fat from his body, and he’s just working away saying things like, “Uh-huh, that’s nice.”  He walks by faceless plastic beings stripping the flesh off the faces of disembodied human heads?  Eh. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

Megan must have thought she’d hired the single most hardcore plumber in all of Wales.  I’m deeply sad they dragged him back to meet their ‘boss’, You-Do-Not-Know-Me (some aspect of the Stranger, most likely).  I’m especially sad that it sounds like Sebastian died shortly after the statement was given.  Seriously, the most oblivious plumber in Wales has to hang out with Trevor the Vampire Slayer and defeat monsters by ignoring them to death.

On a more plot-rich note, wow was this dense.  We’ve been introduced to several major players, and we got a lot more information about the Unknowing.  What I thought was essentially a pissing match between the Stranger and the Beholding with the Institute hanging in the balance now seems a lot more … apocalyptic in nature.  

Gertrude mentions a ‘world Orsinov hopes to bring about’.  The Unknowing is perhaps not the destruction of an Archive as much as it is a radical shift in supernatural power that upsets everything.  Maybe even enough that everyone notices all the forces they’ve been ignoring or not noticing.  Right now, humanity is protected specifically because all the Great Old Ones are equally powerful, and locked in a stalemate.  They have their chosen pawns and allies, but most people aren’t a part of that.  But the Unknowing?  What might well be the death of the Beholding and the ascendancy of the Stranger?  That would change the entire tone of the world.

And the players in the Unknowing are also getting clearer.  I wouldn’t have guessed that the Circus of the Other was at the heart of it, but they do seem to be.  Gertrude states that someone named Orsinov and her ilk searching for their skin, and given the Russian name, and the almost-clown outfit that Megan was wearing, I think we can take it that this was either the Circus of the Other, or a branch thereof.  Orsinov, must have been the person who took over the Circus after Nikolai Denikin left. Although, knowing that the Circus are some sort of plastic beings that coat themselves in skin, I now have some major questions regarding Mr Denikin.  I had thought the doll in ‘Strange Music’ was a generic ‘creepy doll’ thing, but now that we have this information about the Circus, could that doll have actually been Nikolai Denikin?  Gertrude had previously stated that Denikin was one of the most dangerous members of the Circus.  Can a plastic being actually die?

And for that matter, can a plastic being covered in skin somehow have children and grandchildren? Because it certainly seems that Mr Denikin did.  Can such beings inhabit a skin so long it becomes them?  Can a being like that retire?  Denikin seems to have loved his granddaughter and cared for her up until his death.  What happened to bridge between a faceless plastic figure and a loving grandfather with a dark secret and a terrifying calliope?

We also know that Gertrude was directly acting against the Stranger by 2015.  She got in a proper scrap with the Circus, which injured her to the point she could barely stand.  But somehow she was victorious.  She managed to strip them of their skin so severely they all had to replace it. How?  I have to believe that she had come into at least a good part of the Archivist’s powers by then, but what were they?

It seems that at 2015, Gertrude was running out of time. The Circus were only a few years away from performing the Unknowing (or dancing the Unknowing, which is a particularly delightful touch).  Her attack on them was a direct attempt to prevent that, and she failed.  Which means that, most likely, they are still approaching that countdown, but without a fully-charged-up Archivist to combat it. Gertrude’s ‘alternative plans’ to prevent the Unknowing may well have been the destruction of the Institute with Leitner.  It’s hard to say at this point whether or not this was the moment she decided to destroy her life’s work.  If so, how would destroying the Institute prevent the Unknowing?  Is the Institute some key component of it somehow, and by destroying the Institue you scupper the plans?  Was the Library of Alexandria burned not as a part of a previous Unknowing, but as a way to prevent it?

If so, that’s not good, because that’s one step that Elias is not going to let anyone take.  He clearly wants to stop the Unknowing.  But he doesn’t want to lose the Institute to do it. He requires that there be another way, and he was willing to murder Gertrude and slot a completely inexperienced Archivist into her spot only a few years before the Unknowing to see that other way through.

And that means that Elias must be secretly shitting himself.  He’s trying to mold an Archivist not only to his specifications, but powerful enough to stop this Unknowing, and he’s having to do it within a few years.  Sims doesn’t have the luxury of time that Gertrude did to settle into his role.  No wonder she seemed so much saner than he is. She was given decades to come into her power and understand her role in everything.  He’s had a few months, and Elias is unlikely to let up on the pressure. He can’t.  Because Sims either fails or he dies, and he needs to do one or the other soon enough that Elias could slot in Sims’ replacement for the final fight. I think that’s also why Elias seems to be encouraging Martin and the other assistants to record.  If Jon fails, it would likely be one of them who would have to step into the role.

Things are looking dire, and I think that Sims might have been starting to get that by the end of the episode.  Although his reaction to the news that the end might be very seriously nigh was far more tempered than I might have expected, his near-panic-attack hearing the calliope music tells me that at least part of him knows things are going wrong in a hurry, and that there are monsters out there that are closing in on him.

But perhaps he has a lead. Jude Perry seems to be a high ranking member of the Lightless Flame, and was present at the abbatoir during this story. Gertrude mentions that, after the loss of Agnes, the group might have been trying to curry favor with the Stranger, but they seem chaotic.  Their alliances are unstable and their loyalties fickle.  They honestly seem a little like supernatural arsonists, who sort of just want to burn everything without much political agenda.  Or at least, that was Gertrude’s take.  Either way, Sims has decided that Jude is his best bet for tracking down some answers, and he’s going to try and set Melanie on the task.  That seems inadvisable to me, given how burn-happy the Lightless Flame seem to be. Especially since Georgie is wisely insisting that Sims get his creepy tapes out of her house (she actually insisted he stop listening or taping, but we and Sims both know that’s not going to happen), he’s going to have time to do some legwork.  I hope he’s smart enough to have Melanie do some research (and maybe get Martin in on it too, please?), and then go in a group to meet Jude. Any one person is essentially asking to get turned crispy.

Conclusions

So now the Circus has arrived in London, with a drift of calliope music.  Coincidence?  I doubt it. Elias is arming Sims, whether Sims realizes it or not.  He’s given Sims Jude Perry, and he’s warned him about the skin-stealing Circus of the Other and a woman named Orsinov, who seems to lie at the heart of the Unknowing.

Sims has better information and an avenue of investigation.  But he seriously needs his allies for this.  If things are going to start feeling particularly apocalyptic, and if Sims is now being pursued by both Daisy and by the Circus of the Other, now is the time to pull out all the stops.  Melanie is a good ally, but so is Martin, and they’re in this whether or not they want to be.  Having them be close allies isn’t actually any more dangerous than simply working at the Institute, and the information they might get from working with Sims could protect them.

And while I’m glad Sims is now digging into the supernatural community of London, I seriously hope he gets better allies than the Lightless Flame.  If there’s any possible way he could get Gerard Kaey (why yes, I do hold out hope he’s somehow not dead) and Trevor the Vampire Slayer on his side, I’d feel more comfortable.  And they may be scary as shit, but the Lukas family are not only stupidly old and stupidly wealthy, but they’re loyal to the Beholding.

Things are heating up, and getting more and more interesting.  Groups that seemed peripheral are stepping to the center stage, and now we know that we’re looking at a few years for Sims to catch up to the point that he can prevent a dance to end the world as we know it.  That’s a hell of a thing.

[robronsecretsanta]

Fanfic: Five Christmas Eves on the Farm (and one Christmas Day)

Merry Christmas, Livia @vaticanchameleon ! I hope you have a very happy holiday season and I hope you enjoy this little slice of robron fluff that I’ve written for you.

Title: Five Christmas Eves on the Farm (and one Christmas Day)

Rating: G

Notes: The lines in italics are taken from the letter Diane reads out at Jack’s funeral.

Annie gave me a letter that Jack wrote just before he died.

Robert’s hands gripped the steering wheel, fingers flexing with nervous energy. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t look back. If he hesitated his resolve would collapse. He’d meant what he’d said. He didn’t belong there. Maybe he’d never belonged there. He couldn’t run a farm. He couldn’t be head of a family he barely knew anymore. Is that what Andy expected him to do? Swoop in and save them as if nothing had happened? As if nothing had changed?

A glance in his mirror, a split second of longing for that family that still meant so much to him, even through all the pain, the disappointment, angry words and recriminations. Death and heartbreak. Andy and Katie. His mum. His dad.

The car had stopped before he even realised and he was watching Andy run towards him, calling his name, begging him to get out and talk.

It was February.

Robert was home.

To Victoria, Andy, Darren and I hope one day, Robert.

Christmas Eve, 2009

Christmas didn’t change much on a farm. That was one of the many and varied reasons why Robert hadn’t wanted to become a farmer in the first place. Getting up at 4 a.m. to feed the cows certainly wasn’t part of most people’s vision of a traditional Christmas. Neither was forcing yourself to go to bed at 8 p.m. on Christmas Eve so you could get up at 4 a.m.

Victoria had fallen asleep watching Santa Claus the Movie, curled in a ball at one end of the sofa, feet tucked under Robert’s leg. Andy was dozing in the armchair, mouth open and fingers twitching.

They’d spent the last ten months fighting to be better - for the farm, for their family - and somewhere along the way they’d settled into this, the first good Christmas Robert could remember since his mum had died.

He eased himself up off the sofa and covered Victoria with a blanket, doing his best not to disturb her. Andy muttered something and Robert touched his head as he passed, gentle and brief.

The living room was cosy, fire crackling in the hearth and the only light coming from the tv and lights on the Christmas tree. Robert rubbed his eyes when he stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind him to preserve the warmth as he bundled himself up in a coat and gloves.

Snow was falling when Robert stepped outside and he shivered, rubbing his hands together as he trudged across the yard towards the barn to check on the beasts before bed.

His steps slowed as he approached and he heard the soft murmur of a voice inside the barn. Someone inside was having an intense conversation with the cows, or else some sort of Christmas miracle had taught them to talk.

Robert pushed open the door to the barn as quietly as possible and slipped inside.

“I hate this,” the voice continued, quietly. “I hate feeling like this. I don’t know what to do.”

“Aaron?” Aaron jumped up from the bale of hay he’d been sitting on. Gertrude turned her head towards Robert and stamped a foot, seemingly annoyed that Robert had interrupted Aaron’s confession.

“Robert, I’m sorry, I…”

“Are you alright?” Robert asked. Aaron looked afraid and Robert recognised the nervous tension of someone about to make a bolt for it. He held up his hands. “I didn’t hear anything. I swear. Just wondering why you’re here and not at Paddy’s.”

“I just needed to get away,” Aaron muttered. “I’ll go. ‘M sorry.”

“Well you’re here now,” Robert said and nodded towards the hay. “You can help me feed this lot, Doctor Doolittle.”

Aaron’s nose scrunched up and he snorted with laughter. “Doctor Doolittle?”

“He talks to the animals.”

Aaron shook his head but laughed again and set to work feeding Gertrude.

Robert kept one eye on Aaron as he made his way through the barn, checking on each of the cows. Aaron followed behind him, talking to them as he filled up their food and replenished the hay.

“You’re good with them,” Robert said when they were done.

Aaron shrugged a little, keeping his attention on the cows rather than on Robert. “I like animals more than people. They don’t let you down.”

“Well we could always use more help around here if you want,” Robert offered, surprising himself. “Not that we can pay you mind.”

Aaron didn’t reply and Robert didn’t push. He was a weird one, Aaron, but nice enough when you managed to push past the defensive layers of bravado he’d built around himself.

“Guess you’ll be following Paddy into the family business then,” Robert said as they left the barn and walked back across the yard towards the house.

“You what?” Aaron stopped walking and Robert stopped a couple of paces later and turned to face him.

“Well if you want to work with animals and you don’t want to be a farmer,” Robert said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. “You’ll want to be a vet.”

Aaron looked at Robert as if he’d gone mad.

“It was just a thought,” Robert muttered. “Come on inside anyway, it’s freezing.”

“Nah, I should be getting back,” Aaron said, already backing away. “Thanks though.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Robert said. “Just let me grab my keys.”

“No really,” Aaron insisted. “Don’t bother yourself. See you around, Robert.”

Robert watched him go, torn between dragging him back into the house to warm up or forcing him to get in the car so he could be sure he got home safely.

“Merry Christmas,” he called finally, just as Aaron reached the gate and he saw a hand wave in acknowledgement.

If he stayed there long after Aaron had disappeared from sight, no one needed to know but him.

By the time you read this I’ll have gone. I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye but I want you to know that I’m proud of you all and I love you very much.

Christmas Eve, 2014

It was raining. Aaron drove slowly and carefully along the dark country lanes towards the farm, trying to keep his attention focused on the road ahead and not on the drunken idiot in the passenger seat.

The party at the pub had been in full swing when he’d arrived home earlier, Andy celebrating his last night of freedom before the wedding tomorrow with practically the whole village.

It had been an interesting way to introduce Joshua to his friends and to Paddy, who had monopolised him after the first hour to talk about the role of vaccination in the control of tuberculosis in badgers. Aaron had excused himself to talk to Andy and had ended up sitting next to Robert at the end of the bar, catching up.

“You almost done then?” Robert had asked. “Becoming a vet, I mean.”

“Yeah, I graduate soon,” Aaron had told him. “Then I have to start looking for a real job.”

“Paddy’ll give a job,” Robert said, finishing his beer. “You want another?”

“No thanks,” Aaron said. “And I know Paddy would give me a job, but I don’t want charity.”

“It’s not charity,” Robert protested. “Paddy believes in you. And it’d be nice to have you back around here full time.”

“Well it’s not all up to me is it?” Aaron laughed, nodding over to Joshua who was passionately defending his stance to Paddy. Surely they couldn’t still be talking about badgers.

Robert hadn’t asked any more questions, but he had continued drinking, sitting morosely at the bar for most of the night until Vic and Andy approached to see if he was alright.

“I’m fine,” Robert had said, twice as loud as he should have been and when he stood he stumbled over his feet, knocking the stool to the floor.

“I think you should go to bed, mate,” Andy said, catching Robert’s arm and keeping him steady. “Big day tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Robert agreed, patting Andy’s cheek twice. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

“You can’t go home,” Vic said, sighing when he waved her away. “Robert, you’re hammered.”

Which is when Aaron had offered to drive him.

Now, Robert was leaning against the passenger door, forehead pressed to the window. Aaron couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. It wasn’t every day the love of your life married your brother.

And this was the second time it had happened.

He parked as close to the house as he could and hurried around to help Robert inside.

“Come on, Rob,” Aaron said, easing him down onto the sofa. “You’ll be alright. I’ll get you some water, yeah?”

“Stay,” Robert said, quietly, catching Aaron’s hand. “Please.”

“Of course,” Aaron told him. “Let me get you the water first though.”

He was back in under a minute, pushing the glass into Robert’s hand as he sat down next to him.

“Must be hard for you. All of this.”

Robert frowned. “All of what?”

“Andy and Katie. The wedding.”

“Oh.” Robert gulped down some of the water. “Not really.”

“I thought you and Katie…”

“That was forever ago,” Robert sighed. “She fits better with Andy.”

“Doesn’t stop it hurting.”

Robert shrugged. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Aaron asked with a laugh.”

“Tell people. You told all those people. Paddy. Your mum. Weren’t you scared?”

Aaron stared at Robert in shock, his mind whizzing ahead to piece together what Robert was saying.

He couldn’t be saying that.

“You’ve got a nice bloke and you can sit there with him and everyone’s just happy for you.”

“Robert…”

“How do you do it?”

Aaron couldn’t tear his eyes away from Robert. Robert who was staring at the lights on the Christmas tree as though they held the answers to the universe. Robert, who was - coming out to him?

“I was terrified,” Aaron said, honestly. “I still am terrified, every time I have to tell someone new. I’m always braced for their face to change, their smile to slip. I didn’t want it. Paddy… Paddy was there for me. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

Robert nodded but didn’t look away from the tree. “My dad…”

He trailed off. Aaron could see his jaw working as he figured out what to say next. He reached over and put his hand on Robert’s arm.

“Yeah, it’s harder now for you. Without your parents. But you have Vic. Vic was great when I told her.”

Robert’s head whipped towards him. “I’m not gay.”

“Robert, it’s alright.”

“I’m not gay,” he repeated. “I’m not.”

“Robert, calm down,” Aaron begged, but Robert was already on his feet and pulling Aaron up with him.

“You have to leave.”

“Okay,” Aaron said. “Okay. I’m going. I’m sorry.”

He left before Robert could say anything else, hesitating only once the front door had slammed closed behind him.

There was a creak of a chair. The sound of glass breaking.

Aaron closed his eyes when Robert started to cry.

It was time to go home.

I wish I could have come back and spent my last days on the farm with you because that’s been my life.

Christmas Eve, 2015

Robert had always known the farm would have to diversify. Andy could argue with him until he was blue in the face about what their dad had wanted, but the world had changed - they’d all changed - and if the farm didn’t change they were going to fail.

The old barn needed a lot of work, but both Annie and Diane had invested and they’d managed to secure a bank loan for the rest of the money they needed to convert it. It had taken months of hard work, planning and fighting, but they’d made it.

Sarah’s was Victoria’s baby. A restaurant of her own, selling quality homemade food.

Robert was proud.

“It’s beautiful,” he’d told her a week earlier when they’d all gathered in the yard to see the lights turn on and their mother’s name was illuminated, simple and elegant and perfect.

A grand opening for the locals on Christmas Eve had seemed like a good idea at the time, but with the staff not due to start until January, they’d all been roped in to help. Andy was helping in the kitchen, while Robert and Katie waited tables.

“Shouldn’t I be helping in here?” Robert asked, watching Andy peer into a steamer filled with veg. “I have more experience.”

“You also like being in charge,” Vic said. “Andy does as he’s told.” She pushed a pile of plates into Andy’s hands and pointed at the counter. “Go.”

Robert left them to it and made his way through the busy tables towards the waiting guests.

“Ooo, this is fancy isn’t it?” Chas said when he reached her, gesturing to the room. “And you’re looking pretty fancy too, Robert.”

“Mum,” Aaron hissed, shooting Robert an apologetic look.

“What?” Chas said. “I can look can’t I? Robert knows I’m only teasing.”

Robert bit his lip to stop himself laughing and led Chas, Aaron and a girl of maybe fifteen, to an empty table.

“I don’t know you, do I?” he asked the girl as he handed her a menu.

“Ten out of ten for observation,” she said. “I don’t know you either.”

“This is my sister,” Aaron said quickly, shooting her a look. “Liv. Liv this is Robert.”

“Oh, you’re Robert,” Liv said. “I was wondering when I’d meet you. He talks about you all the time.”

Robert smiled slightly and pretended he didn’t notice Aaron kick Liv under the table.

“I’ll be right back to take your order,” he said. “Can I get you any drinks to start?”

“Lemonade,” Liv said. “With gin.”

“Lemonade,” Robert repeated, scribbling it on his pad. “No alcohol.”

“I’ll have a beer,” Aaron said, smiling gratefully. “You know what I like.”

“And I’ll have a beer too,” Chas said. “Whatever he’s having.”

Aaron pushed open the door to the kitchen an hour later and tentatively poked his head inside.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes of course,” Vic told him. “In fact, you can take over from Andy for five minutes so he’ll stop complaining.”

“I need the loo!” Andy exclaimed. “I’m not complaining for the sake of it.”

Aaron gamely stepped in to help, letting Andy escape. “I just wanted to say congratulations.”

“Aww, thanks, Aaron. That means a lot. And if I wasn’t covered in fish I’d hug you.”

“Save the hugging for tomorrow please,” Robert said as he entered the kitchen. “Are you forcing our guests to work now?”

“He’s not a guest,” Vic argued. “It’s Aaron.”

“Right,” Aaron laughed.

“He’s paying.”

“Actually mum’s paying,” Aaron told him with a wink. “Christmas treat apparently since Liv’s here.”

“She seems, er…”

“Yeah, she is,” Aaron said. “But she’s great. Just you know. Sisters.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Oi!” Vic said, brandishing a ladle at them. “That’s enough of that. Aaron, stir. Robert, service.”

“Yes, chef,” Robert sighed and swept from the room, plates in hand.

Aaron stirred the sauce, unable to stop himself from smiling.

I’ve been thinking a lot about home lately and I feel blessed to have spent my life working on the land like my dad and his dad before him.

Christmas Eve, 2016

Bessie was, at most, a day away from calving. Robert had been checking on her all day, making sure she was safe; he had moved her into a comfortable corner of the barn, remembering all the times he’d done it as a child, helping his dad with the calves and the lambs.

He’d done this a handful of times over the years since he’d returned, but this was the first time he’d faced it alone. He couldn’t begrudge Andy and Katie spending their Christmas away from the village, but it was still nerve-racking to have the entire farm to run for a week without help.

“Easy girl,” he said, running his hand along Bessie’s side. “Easy. Won’t be long now.”

“Hello?”

“Aaron?”

“Hiya,” Aaron said, appearing at the entrance to the stall with a grin. “How’s the patient?”

“She’s not a patient,” Robert protested. “She’s a cow, giving birth. They do it all the time.”

“I meant you,” Aaron said, stepping forward to check on Bessie. “I know she can do it. Can’t you girl? It’s daddy who’s hopeless.”

“Did you just call me…?”

“Can you be useful for a change and hand me my stethoscope?” Aaron asked, talking over him.

Robert glared at the back of his head but did as he was asked.

“Thank you.”

Aaron continued his examination and Robert leant against the wall and watched him, arms folded over his chest.

“Well?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Aaron told him, smiling again as he pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of his bag. “I just want to check the position. You can make us a cup of tea if you like, grumpy.”

Six hours and many cups of tea later, Bessie had given birth with only minimal help from Aaron and both were doing well.

Robert and Aaron sat together on a bale of hay, watching the calf find its feet and take its first steps.

“Congratulations,” Aaron said, nudging Robert gently. “You’re a grandad.”

“And you’re a little shit,” Robert shot back, far too fondly for Aaron to take offence. “Thank you.”

“She did all the work,” Aaron pointed out. “I was just here for moral support.”

“For me,” Robert said. “I mean it. Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yeah, you could,” Aaron said. “You’re Robert. You can do anything.”

“I wish that was true.”

“It is true,” Aaron insisted. “I believe in you.”

Robert shook his head, surprised a second later when Aaron squeezed his knee.

“I mean it.”

Their eyes met and held. Robert leant forward ever so slightly.

Aaron’s watch beeped.

“It’s midnight,” he said, smiling widely at Robert again. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Aaron.”

When I was out in the fields I used to feel them there with me and I’ll be there with all of you, in the rain and the snow, when the lambs arrive and when the leaves fall from the trees.

Christmas Eve, 2017

Christmas didn’t change much on a farm. Except when it changed everything.

Robert still had to get up at 4 a.m. to feed the cows and he still had to go to bed at 8 p.m. in order to do it.

He didn’t mind so much anymore.

Victoria was in the kitchen, singing along to the radio while she made a fresh batch of mince pies, slapping at Adam’s hands every time he tried to stick his fingers in the cream. Andy and Katie were dozing on the sofa under a blanket, Love Actually playing in the background. Upstairs, Jack and Sarah were asleep, dreaming of Santa and presents and a whole day to come of being spoilt.

Robert pulled on his coat and gloves and slipped away mostly unnoticed. Snow was falling when he stepped outside and he shivered, rubbing his hands together as he trudged across the yard towards the barn.

He stopped in the doorway, Aaron’s familiar form visible as he checked the cows and refilled their hay.

“Everything alright, Doctor Doolittle?” Aaron shook his head. Robert could see the smile on his face as they walked towards each other, meeting in the middle of the barn where Robert had helpfully positioned some mistletoe.

“Isn’t that joke getting old?” Aaron asked. “Like you.”

“Ouch,” Robert said, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s waist. “Right for the heart.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “How can I make it up to you?”

"I can think of a way,” Robert said, smiling as he leant in to kiss Aaron. “A few ways actually.”

That’s a comfort to me. And I know I’m leaving the farm in capable hands.

Christmas Day, 2017

Robert woke up surrounded by warmth.

The duvet was pulled up to his nose. He could see the first light of dawn creeping under the curtains.

He was late.

"Shhhh.”

Aaron was pressed along the length of his back, knees tucked behind his, one arm clamped firmly around his waist, fingers teasing at the edge of his boxers.

He really didn’t want to move.

“Cows.”

“Andy’s doing it,” Aaron told him, nuzzling Robert’s neck. “Him and Katie.”

Robert linked his fingers with Aaron’s and raised them to his lips to kiss his fingertips. He felt Aaron shiver with laughter and press closer.

“Turkey.”

“Mum’s cooking it,” Aaron reminded him and Robert grumbled slightly. “Oi.”

“Oi, what?” Robert said, rolling over to face Aaron finally. He hooked his leg over Aaron’s hip and brushed their noses together. “Merry Christmas.”

“Yes, it is.”

[tobelongtheseries]

Finding Your Own Way

“To Belong” Writing Contest Entry Written by: Emma D.

Gertrude was still adjusting to life in Sabastion city. Even after almost a full year living here. She and her adopted mother, Ms. Elinda, had left their old lives behind in the isolated town they’d been born and raised in. Ms. Elinda had come to the city to finish her graduate studies, to pursue her dreams, to give Gertrude and herself a better life. It had been an interesting change for Gertrude. So different from her small quiet home, where people kept to themselves. Here there was talking, and cheering, and screaming, and shouting and occasionally singing. Everywhere. Constantly. It was a fascinating place filled with so many different people and ideas. A home to history and knowledge in the City’s own Sabastion University.

But Gertrude quickly learned Sabastion City was also a dangerous place. With corruption showing clearly in the rundown buildings, crumbling roads, copious crime and apathetic police force who only seemed to rise to action when an official called for them. And yet despite the poor conditions everywhere the University, the Municipal Center and the neighborhoods of the rich were utterly pristine, cleaned daily till they didn’t even seem to be a part of the same city.

Everywhere else was crowded, packed with people. More people than Gertrude could have imagined lived in the world. You could be stampeded if you were on the streets at the wrong time. And buildings were more like towers trying to pierce the sky. Each day it seemed like people were building structures higher and higher than the last. Like a race to see who could touch the clouds first. And it would scare Gertrude every time she saw the workers so high up, leaning on steel beams, letting their feet dangle off in the open air.

One time when Gertrude and Ms. Elinda first moved here they saw one poor construction worker slip off a beam. Her heart felt like it stopped seeing them fall out into the open air. It would have been a long, terrifying, painful fall. And even after the worker shrank down into a small bird and flapped back onto the beam that pressure wouldn’t leave Gertrude’s heart. She couldn’t stop thinking what might have happened to them if they weren’t a creature with wings…

So whenever she was walking to and from school and saw workers up on those metal frames without any safety equipment in sight, Gertrude always said a silent prayer for them.

While Ms. Elinda attended the University, Gertrude was enrolled at one of the schools too. Once it had probably been a nice building, it was all brick with broad windows to let natural sunlight in. It over looked the city’s biggest park and was across the street from the library. But much like the rest of the city the school had been worn physically with cracked walls and desperate need of maintenance. The only obvious update since the building had been built were iron bars placed on all the windows and a high fence surrounding the whole property that only made the school look more like a prison.

But somehow despite the grim surroundings, the school became one of Gertrude’s favorite places in the city. It was one of the only places closer to the ground, only a few stories tall instead of a tower. And with so much open space around it Gertrude felt like she could breathe a little easier without the weight of the entire city pressing in on her.

It was also where she made her first new friends. It was kind of funny actually, in the span of her first week of school she met the small group and latched on to them, fitting into their circle like a missing piece.

Kind, sweet Annette had been the one to first introduce herself to Gertrude. Being new to school Annette acted as her guide, showing her the building and letting her in on the best halls and stairwells to take to get to class on time. And when lunch came around Annette brought her outside to meet all of her other friends.

Nickolas had welcomed Gertrude with open arms. Excitedly showing her some of his writing and personal art projects. After a bit of talking they realized they had many of the same classes so they decided to be study partners and promised to help one another when exams came up at the end of the year.

Reyford had been skeptical at first, treating Gertrude coldly, barely even talking to her. But after a few day she must have passed Ford’s personal test because after that he suddenly became calmer, more open around her. And after that the two had become thick as thieves.

And then there was Marnie. She had been standoffish too. But unlike Reyford’s forced acting Gertrude found out that that was just the way Marnie was. She was quiet, sometimes she went an entire day without talking. But you couldn’t deny that she cared about her friends, looking out for them all. One time a few kids tried to call Gertrude a bumpkin and suddenly Marnie was there at her side. She hit the kid so hard it purpled almost instantly.

Together the five of them became a unit. Hanging out together before school and during lunch. And after school they were next to inseparable.

Most days Ms. Elinda would go straight from her work to her evening classes so Gertrude didn’t see her until late at night after she left in the morning. So after school Gertrude and the others were together constantly. Running errands for family. Working on projects for school. Sometimes just wandering through the city to see something new. It was nice. The City felt a lot less scary and colossal when you were there with friends, people who had lived their whole lives surrounded by towers. Walking amongst them as easily as if they were trees in a forest. Sabastion City was so normal to them, it helped make the city seem more normal to Gertrude too. And as school went on the city began to feel less daunting and intimidating. With Nickie, Marnie, Annie and Ford at her side she walked down the streets with some more confidence, needed to look at maps less and less, felt more comfortable. Slowly Sabastion City started to feel… It wasn’t home yet… But it felt familiar.

It was different from anything Gertrude and known before, but the longer she was here the better she understood life here. Along with those who chose to live here. She also realized the more she went out with her friends, really embraced the idea of living in the city, she thought about her old home less. That bittersweet mix of hating the place and yet still missing it faded more over time. She was finally letting it all go, leaving it in her memories where it belonged.

Until one day Nickolas was taking them down a shortcut under a bridge. He had said it would be safe but when they made their way down they saw I group of people already down there. They were arguing about money and deals and they looked like they were preparing to fight. Some were in human form but many were animals. Gertrude saw one wolf bearing its fangs, a lioness growled menacingly as it circled some of the men. The people were far enough away they hadn’t noticed them just yet. But it was only a matter of time. Gertrude’s instincts were screaming at her to run. And the five of them were backing up slowly.

But then just as Gertrude was preparing to leave, she saw it. A fight was breaking out and clear as day she saw a cockatoo swoop down and attack someone’s eyes. And then she heard him. A voice she never thought she’d ever hear again. She couldn’t move. She barely felt like she could breathe. She could feel Marnie gripping her arm hard enough to bruise. She knew she needed to move now but she couldn’t. It was all coming back to her. And she was helpless to stop it. She was standing there for too long. And it was too late.

A few of the people turned to them glaring. Demanding they leave right now before they got hurt. And when the cockatoo looked over, shock seemed to override his face.

“Trudy?”

Hearing that voice address her was what finally snapped her out of it. And with Marnie still dragging her she ran away with the others. And they didn’t stop running until they were back on top of the bridge.

Ford and Annie slumped down onto the sidewalk while Gertrude and the others clung to the bridge railing. She could hear Nickie trying to apologize, and Ford and Marnie yelling, but it all sounded underwater. She felt overwhelmed and trapped and had no idea what to do. But there was one question racing through her mind rapidly.

What on earth was her father doing in Sabastion City?

She hadn’t seen him in years. Not him, or her mom, or her older brother. When she was a child they had granted Ms. Elinda custody of her. And after that they had all disappeared, flew away in the dead of night. The day after they left police forces had swarmed her old home. She along with the whole town could only watch as the house was picked clean for clues. It was the day Gertrude was finally told why Ms. Elinda adopted her. And that her family had been even worse than she could have imagined…

She hadn’t seen any of her biological family in years. Nobody had. And now her dad was here. Just a hundred feet below her. Doing who knows what with that strange group of people.

She was so stuck in her head she only looked up when her friends started yelling at her to get back. And before she could figure out why she heard wings flapping directly by her ear and a weary-looking Cockatoo landed on the railing next to her. She couldn’t deny it any longer. She

turned to the bird, her father, and tried to calmly greet him despite the way her heart was hammering.

“Hi Trudy.”

“… Hi.”

Her friends seemed shocked. And Reyford still tried to stand between Gertrude and the bird. “Wait! You know this guy?!” he said, looking dumb stricken.

“Yes.” Gertrude replied tensely. She looked down at her Dad who was currently tapping at the metal rail nervously with one of his claws. “Uh… Can you give us a moment?”

“You sure?” Marnie asked, still looking at her Dad with mistrust.

“I’m sure.” Gertrude pressed. She really didn’t want her friends around when she talked with her dad. This was going to be awkward enough as it is. “I promise, everything will be fine. I’ll talk to you guys later, ok?”

Marnie still looked like she wanted to fight about it but Annette began to pull both her and Ford away. And after a few nervous glances Nickolas followed them away. Then it was just her and her dad.

Only when everyone was gone her dad turned into his human form. He looked almost exactly how Gertrude remembered him. If only a little greyer and dressed in more expensive looking clothes. At first neither of them said anything. They simply stood side by side. Looking down at the river, water rushing under the bridge and out the bay the city was built around.

Then swallowing down her nerves Gertrude finally spoke up.

“So… Dad… how are things going?”

“Well,” Her Dad began, she could hear him trying to decide if he should lie to her or not and she hated it. “Things have been alright. That down there, we had an agreement before. But the deal went sour. Nothing to worry about.”

Gertrude knew he was lying, trying to soften the blow. You don’t claw someone’s eyes out over a poor deal. She honestly couldn’t believe her dad, but she choose not to call him out on it. Instead she sighed and moved on. “What about Mom? And Gerald?”

“They’re doing alright too. We got a place outside of town, Gerry’s going to school there. I come here for business and your Ma’s got a job down by the water. And since no one’s looking for us right now so it’s easy to get in and out of Sabastion. It’s a nice set-up.” Her Dad said. He seemed smug about the fact.

“Must be nice.” Gertrude muttered, leaning a little further onto the railing.

Her Dad was frowning at her, and then all at once he forced a smile. “So what about you? You still living with the Ellie snake-girl? Right?”

“Yes.” Gertrude answered. “She’s finally finishing up studies. She was invited to the University.”

“Good for her. Is she still working with history?”

“Yeah, and she’s specializing with culture and folklore too.” Gertrude said. Ms. Elinda loved stories so it made sense she would dedicate her career to her passion. It was interesting really. Seeing how certain stories formed, where they came from, the reasons why. And while she never said it openly she was really proud of Ms. Elinda for all her hard work.

“Cute.” He commented. “She was so young when we pawed you off to her. I think she was a store clerk back then, and a part-time teacher.”

Pawed off. Just when she felt like she was relaxing, those words set her back on edge. Reminding her that her family had ditched her. Her whole family were birds, her father a cockatoo, her mother and brother both crows. But she was a doe. Even when she was a baby it had been impossible for them to carry her in animal form. If they had to run in the night they’d have to do it in human form. Which was much more obvious and easy to track. Even if it was for her own safety in the long-run. Giving her up was seen as a necessity to them, but it was also something they did willingly. Possibly even happily? Gertrude didn’t have the courage to find out.

The air was tense between them. Her Dad seemed distressed now that he realized he said something wrong but Gertrude could bring herself to keep humoring him. Eventually he caved in. Pushing himself away from the bar and transforming back into a bird before resting back onto the rail.

“I’m glad you guys are doing ok… I can’t be out in public too long though, got a target on my back you know.”

No. She didn’t know. “I know.”

“I gotta go now. Maybe we’ll see each other again. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He tried.

“Maybe.” Gertrude said.

“Ok… Bye then.”

“Bye.”

Gertrude turned to walk away ready to put this all behind her once again, when her dad said one last thing.

“I love you. My Gerdy-Girl.”

Gertrude immediately turned around but her dad had already flown away. Gone again.