#anyone have any thoughts on sims I could make i might be willing to listen

[interwarsims]

Back into sims and my first idea was an attempt to make Anna Chang. She is super adorable in this shit film and I am legit sad that she doesn't have a lot of information about her. Coming up with a CC version soon because that hair is amazing.

Honestly I kind of hate the no cc version here because it seems rather bland, but I tried to make the outfits match the film and few images I could find of poor Anna.

[michaelgovehateblog]

Piggy in the Middle

Queen Elizabeth x Michael Gove, Michael Gove x Matt Hancock, 1500 words

“Michael Gove and Sarah Vine to divorce.” She knew it was bad, but Elizabeth’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when she saw the headlines. She had spent years forcing herself to ignore how she really felt about Michael and pretending the flirty looks and comments they shared were meaningless or all in her head; after all, they were both married, and publicly at that, especially in the case of her and Philip. And it’s not that she didn’t love Philip, because she of course did, but there was something about Gove and his pig-like face that just drew her in. And now she was rid of Philip, and Michael and Sarah were splitting up – maybe there was a chance for them.

Not that they would be able to go public with it if anything even did happen between them. As far as the country knew, Elizabeth was still mourning Philip, just putting on a brave face and soldiering on without him. The public probably wouldn’t be able to deal with her moving on so soon. She sighed – her life as a parasite was so difficult.

Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door, and subsequent voice.

“Your Majesty? It’s 12, we’re scheduled to leave now.”

“Of course, I’m coming now.” She responded, and stood up to leave, making sure to glance in the mirror to check she still looked presentable. Everything was still pristine: icy white grey hairs all perfectly in place and nude lipstick completely un-smudged. She was wearing a long royal blue (her signature colour) coat with large buttons of a slightly softer blue colour, all of which were done up. This was worn over a classy floral-patterned dress, which wasn’t visible under the jacket. Perched on top of her head was an elaborate hat made from material the exact same colour as the coat and adorned with white and blue flowers. The shoes she wore were a standard pair of elegant black heels and the look was finished off with a pair of black gloves.

Satisfied the outfit was perfectly uncreased as always, Elizabeth left the room to head to the whatever event it was this time, she didn’t really care. Mostly she just showed up at these things for a bit of good PR and so people would continue believe she works hard and really cares about the common people (Which she didn’t obviously. Why would she.) Although, she was certain that someone had told her that this event would have many politicians also in attendance, so she was hopeful that she might encounter a certain cabinet member.

As per usual, Elizabeth was finding the event mind-numbingly boring, just endless shaking hands with forgettable people she was supposed to pretend to be interested in. But then she spotted him. And at the same moment she saw him, Michael glanced in her direction and they were making direct eye contact. She gave him a shy smile, which he returned as he started walking towards her, not breaking eye contact.

“Your Majesty,” said Michael, extending his arm to shake hands, “How are you today?” They shook hands, Michael noticing how dry and wrinkly Elizabeth’s felt, and her in turn mentally noting the bizarre clamminess of his, both of which only increased each person’s attraction to the other.

“I’m doing wonderfully,” she responded, “And thoroughly enjoying this lovely event.” she made sure to add, aware of how many people were probably in earshot. “But what about yourself? I heard the news. It must be a difficult time for you.”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this; he couldn’t believe that the Queen actually cared enough about him to pay attention to the news about him and his (soon to be ex) wife. He had always felt there was some kind of connection between the two of them but told himself he was imagining it – what other option did he have. But unusually for his cowardly personality, he got a sudden burst of confidence, and was shocked to hear himself talking.

“Ma’am, I think I need to step outside to get some fresh air. Would you be interested in joining me for a walk?” He hadn’t had confidence to do anything like that since his coked-up days of 20 years ago. Well, he always said 20 years ago, but those close to him, such as Matt Hancock, knew he was prone to enjoy a smidge of the substance of an evening.

“Yes, I would enjoy that a lot.” replied Elizabeth, much to Michael’s delight. He offered out his elbow, purely out of politeness, of course, which she accepted, outwardly calmly but very eagerly inside. A walk outside would probably mean time properly alone, where other people couldn’t hear them, something they had probably never had before.

They continued small talk for a while, about the event and such, until they were far enough away from the general crowds for more intimate conversation.

"How have you been coping, Ma'am, without the Prince? Such an unexpected shame, his untimely demise like that. It was truly a shock to all of us."

Right, 'untimely'. Elizabeth often forgot that Philip's death was supposed to be something entirely unexpected for her, not something she knew would happen down to the exact time and place.

"Missing him, of course, but life has to go on. And it's strange to remember that I am single again, after all these years. That's not been the case since I was 13 and Philip was an adult."

"Yes, it's the same for me, minus the questionable age difference. I’ve been married to Sarah for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to meet other people - and be with other people...” at these words the two made eye contact, neither knowing what to say aloud but having an entire unspoken conversation.

“Mr Gove… Or Michael, may I call you Michael? Would you be interested in visiting the Palace for dinner sometime soon? I could give you a personal tour of the grounds.”

“Yes, Ma’am, of course you can call me Michael,” Almost unthinkingly, the pair faced each other and reached for each other's hands. “And I would be honoured to visit the palace, Ma’am.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, “Please, no need to bother with the formalities, at least not whilst nobody else is listening. Call me Elizabeth. Now, we should probably head back inside to the event, we’ve been out here a while, people will be missing me. They basically worship me. But I’ll get someone to contact you about your visit to the palace - I’d do it myself, only that sort of thing is far beneath me.” A smile spread over Michael’s pig-mannequin hybrid face as they made their way back inside.

What they hadn’t realised during their encounter, was that it wasn’t as private as they had thought; in fact another politician had been lurking and watching the entire scene.And he wasn’t happy about what he saw. As soon as Elizabeth and Michael walked off in separate directions, Matt Hancock quickly grabbed Gove by the arm and dragged him into a quiet corridor.

“Hancock.”

“Gove. I saw you outside just now, heard you talking with a certain monarch. The two of you seemed quite friendly.”

“Oh. Right. I hadn’t thought anyone else had been outside. You won’t - you won’t tell anyone what you saw or heard, will you?”

“I won’t. But only because it’s you, if it had been anybody else, I would be telling the sun immediately. The queen’s new love interest, I couldn’t hope for anything better to get the tabloids off my back. But because it’s you - I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Matt, what do you mean? Why are you making an exception for me?”

“Govey, as if you don’t know. You must have realised how I feel about you.” Hancock stepped closer to Gove and in his mind’s eye, imagined the Sims social interactions menu, and pictured selecting ‘kiss’. (It was from looking at the characters in the game, after all, that he learnt to kiss in the first place. The mindset and techniques stuck with him.) To his delight, he felt Michael kissing him back. Matt deepened the kiss and their tongues battled for dominance. Suddenly, Michael pulled away and stared, speechless, at Matt.

After about half a minute unable to muster any coherent thoughts (not even coherent by conservative standards) Gove turned away and briskly walked to an empty room, where he could sit alone and process all of what just happened. Not only was he certain now that Elizabeth felt the same spark that he did, but Hancock, whom he had secretly had a low-level affection for for many years, had just snogged him out of jealousy? He didn’t expect to be wrapped up in a love triangle the very day his divorce was announced, and yet it seemed that was what was happening. His years of being an incompetent and sleazy politician had clearly earned him some admirers.

~~

If you made it to the end, I'm only partly sorry for what you just read. I would be willing to write a second chapter if for some godforsaken reason somebody actually would want to read one. This took me far too long to write for something that is honestly not that many words but I feel like it's understandable, given the subject matter. k bye

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

-

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

-

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

-

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

-

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

-

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

-

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

[changebydjo]

IMPORTANT - PLEASE READ

 so i’ve put off writing this for a long, long time, and it’ll be painful for me to make this post but at this point i feel like it needs to be done. someone within the liz fandom has been lying, gaslighting and manipulating me as well as many others, both online and offline, and after getting proof on everything (plus their lack of remorse) has prompted me to write this.

this is about gil perez, aka @unrated-g, and one of his irl friends, kim @kimbus-the-whimbus, to a lesser extent, but mostly gil. since 2016 - nearly 5 years now - he’s been lying that he’s best friends with liz gillies. i’m gonna put a read more because it’s a long, insane, and ridiculous thing that happened, but please read all of it and know how serious this is, as well as all the damage this man has done.

​

i met gil through tumblr in 2018 - he had been replying my posts since before that, but early 2018 is when i followed him and started chatting with him casually. over time, i noticed that he would reblog posts about liz and in the tags he would seem to be talking to her or referencing her, but not by her name - instead he would call her “goblin”. he would mention things that “goblin” liked or behind the scenes on dynasty stuff, and after a few weeks of noticing this and chatting with him about dynasty/liz, i ended up asking him if he was friends with liz/knew her personally because of the way he spoke about her. he confirmed to me that he knew her, she was one of his best friends, and he “didn’t expect” anyone to pick up on it. he told me to keep it private and i agreed, obviously, because i had no reason to not trust him, and i know that liz values her privacy.

it’s important to note that liz does NOT follow him or any of his accounts from her verified twitter or instagram accounts - instead, he said she had an “extremely private” encrypted tumblr account that could only be seen by people she follows/white listed. he was one of them. her blog would not show up for anyone else, and they met through tumblr in 2016 (even though he said she followed him back in 2010 and he didn’t realize until 6 years later) through their mutual love for uncharted, and bonded over playing uncharted 4 multiplayer together. it’s also important to note that liz has had 2 tumblr accounts since 2010, both of which she has abandoned, and he said that her private tumblr is separate from those two. she also was friends with him (according to him) through PSN, where they would play ps4 games together, and all of his text convos with her are from that app:

(^ “liz’s” PSN account)

throughout all of 2018, we would text on a regular basis and started becoming good friends. he was extremely kind, always willing to be there for me, and listened to me about not only fandom stuff but also my irl problems. he also became friends with my friend group, who were also in the liz fandom, and it was really nice for a while. in october of 2018, gil said he went to HHN with liz and matt in LA, and for xmas of 2018, he said he spent it with liz - both in LA and in NJ, which is what she typically does to spend her holidays with her family and friends. her pale blue eyes cover was also for him, according to gil, because he asked for her to cover it specifically and she did just for him.

gil would also occasionally stream for friends, and sometimes liz would show up:

beginning of 2019 is when gil and i started getting much closer - we started playing games together (mostly mario kart, at the beginning) and talking through voice chat. he would talk about liz and personal things about her/her life or dynasty, and he always willingly supplied that information himself - i never asked for it, i wasn’t friends with him to get information on liz or have an “in” with her. chatting with him made me feel good and happy and important to him, and i realized i started having feelings for him - which i told him about in april 2019. he said he wasn’t sure exactly how he felt but he thought he might feel the same, the only really complicated part (besides the fact that this was long distance/not irl) was that he also had a really deep crush on liz, someone who was his best friend/ultimate celeb crush. he was really like in love with her, even though he said he tried to suppress it. anyways, after me admitting that to him, our friendship started to develop into something more. we weren’t ever in an official relationship, but things were definitely not strictly platonic with us. we went from chatting once every week or two to almost every single night for 3-6 hours per night for MONTHS. throughout that time, our relationship became sexual, too, and my feelings for him just continued to get deeper and deeper.

this continues throughout the rest of 2019, and then new years 2020, everything just...goes to shit asap. gil got really distant with me with no explanation, i felt like all the affection he was showing me and the kind things he would say to me, as well as our bonding time when we would chat together, was just ripped away unexpectedly. i constantly asked what was wrong and what was happening, and told him how i feel, and i got no real response besides just being tired/non-sociable, etc. (which, for the record, is completely understandable, but it was such a huge 180 in behavior that it worried me and things never went back to normal after that). in addition to that, kim (who was mentioned at the beginning of this post) is one of his best friends irl, as well as his on again/off again ex (according to him). anyways, there were posts that she had made that indicated to them not being exes and instead still together - or at the very least not platonic - which crushed me when i found out, because until that point i had no reason not to trust him. i told him about it though, and how it hurt me because my feelings were so deep for him at that point i felt that i loved him, and he told me they weren’t together. this isn’t really necessary for the liz stuff of this post, but it’s important for context for how hurt and on edge i was already feeling before things got worse.

we would still chat maybe a few times a week, but nothing like it used to be, and i was happy we would even chat at all, even though things felt so weird and different and off, and no matter what i did, i couldn’t fix it. as 2020 started going on, and this continued, his friendship with liz started making me feel extremely uncomfortable. knowing that he had the weird boundaries with his ex, plus whatever was going on with me and him, AND that he was in love with liz?? it was unsettling. i felt like i couldn’t compare, because it’s *liz gillies*, someone i obviously love and idolize and look up to. and she was up on a pedestal for him, even though he said that he never tried to treat liz differently than his other close friends just bc of who she was, but that wasn’t true. anything that she said or did, he agreed with 100%, and would defend it. when he and i would chat, and i would mention something about dynasty that bothered me, he would talk about what liz’s thoughts were on it and how she felt and that she was right to feel that way and it made me feel awful. this happened on multiple occasions throughout various topics, from dynasty to fandom stuff to liz’s friendships/relationships, etc. no matter what, to gil, liz was always right and he always had an explanation for anything that happened. the way he would describe liz and the thing he said about her made me see her in a completely different light - she was not the same liz that she presented herself as, at least in gil’s eyes. 

he would always talk about how amazing liz was to him and how she did so much for him, such as buying him gifts, supporting his art, etc. this was hurtful to hear because i was doing the exact same things for him, as well as our group of friends: we had been buying his art (not only the art prints but the ACTUAL original copies), sending him gifts or money for gifts, supporting him and his art on social media, as well as just being a genuine friend to him. he never appreciated or thanked us the way that he thanked liz; none of us ever compared to her, even though we were doing the exact same thing for him that he said liz was doing, as well. it made me feel like no matter what i did, or how supportive i was, i was never enough.

we also had a discord with gil, that involved him, me, and my friends sarah, hope, amanda, and dom. within this discord, it’s worth noting that gil was the only man there, and would talk about liz and his friendship with her there, unprompted. we never asked for info, he volunteered everything willingly, and we all kind of glossed over it at the time because we weren’t friends with him for liz or any of that.

(the screenshot gil linked in the gc is what “liz’s” private encrypted blog looks like on his dash. please note the edit post button in the bottom right of the screenshot.)

another important thing about his friendship with liz/being in love with her: he has this specific kink (which i don’t want to say what it is for privacy reasons) and he said that liz was engaging in this kink herself, and that he was jealous of liz’s bf/wishes he could engage in it with liz, etc. i wasn’t into this kink before talking to him but because i had liked him so much at the time, and i was slightly jealous that he wanted it with liz, i thought that i could indulge in it for him. it was something that i was not physically or mentally prepared for/able to make happen, and it really caused an impact on me, and he just...didn’t care. at all.

anyways: this stuff continues, then around summer 2020, my friend sarah reached out to him. she (and my friends, along with me) were starting to distrust the things gil was saying about liz, since it went completely against what liz would say herself. she would say she only plays the sims 3 on her computer - he would say she was a huge gamer and played the sims 4 on ps4, along with minecraft, uncharted, the last of us, horizon zero dawn, etc. he would say that liz and maddison brown (her dynasty co-star) played ACNH with him and quickly got to 5 stars - liz said in a zach sang interview that she didn’t play animal crossing. every time something didn’t add up, his excuse was that liz was lying for her privacy. she didn’t follow gil on any verified social media accounts in case “people harassed him” over being friends with her. so sarah texted him that she needed to talk to him about the liz stuff, because there was evidence it wasn’t true, and he denied all of it. he firmly stuck to his story, and sarah gave him multiple chances over several days to come clean and he wouldn’t. she asked for simple pieces of proof that he could give her, and he wouldn’t besides fake screenshots of her “private blog”:

 he told me afterwards that if it comes between his friendship with liz or sarah’s, he’s picking liz - end of story. his and sarah’s friendship was done after that because of his decision. he blamed sarah for “ruining” liz and maddison’s friendship because of her asking for proof, and made her out to be the bad one in that situation. he ended up deleting the discord gc after this happened, with all of his screenshots/”info” as liz as well (we got screenshots of things before he deleted it though, much more that’s shown in this post).

about a month later, my friend léa also confronted him about it. gil had told her some things about liz’s “reaction” to meeting léa in paris, and at the time, it had made the experience more special for her. once she realized it was all lies, though, it really hurt her - he altered that special experience for her and twisted it into something that wasn’t real. he had the same reaction to léa’s conversation as he did to sarah’s, and he refused to tell the truth. their friendship was done with after, as well, along with a few other people from the liz fandom. i was the only one who stayed friends with him after that, and that was because i was closest with him and still trying to see if i could fix things with him. i was still naively believing that he would treat me okay again, he would make me feel important instead of always a backup option, that he wanted me again. 

but of course that never happened. he continued to ignore me, talk to me less and less, and would subtweet me on his private account. after he stopped being friends with sarah and léa and everyone blocked him except for me, i was the only follower on his private account, as well as being the only person he followed there. gil, though, kept saying that liz had a “private twitter” where she would talk to him on his private account. he also said that he had “merged twitter accounts” into one, which was his private, which messed up his account and wouldn’t show who he was replying to, quote rts, or that he was following them, which - if you have a twitter, you KNOW none of that can actually happen. but it was his excuse to constantly subtweet me and my friends for not believing him, to maintain his story, AND to have convos with “liz” on there that only i could see, where he made it sound like he was talking shit about me to her. it was extremely manipulative and served no purpose except to fuck with me, because he knew that i was the only one seeing those tweets and knew i was already struggling with not knowing what to believe. here’s some of them:

(you can very clearly see that i’m the only follower/following on that account, the number is at literally 1, and he STILL was acting like he was talking to someone else and that other people were following him.)

now comes jan. 2021!! WE GOT DEFINITE PROOF THAT IT WAS ALL LIES. from multiple people. one of liz’s close best friends (that gil included in his stories about her, saying that he met them) said that they don’t know who gil is, have never met him, and it’s best for us all to block him for our own safety. a co-worker of liz’s (who was, again, included in gil’s lies, that he hung out with them multiple times, played games with them online, and bought him gifts) said that not only had they never met gil, but EVERYTHING he said about them was untrue. they even listed the inaccuracies he would say about them, such as gil taking photos of them at things like the SWT, and they confirmed who actually took the photo. they said that “none of it is fucking true” and that gil is a narcissistic liar, and also encouraged us to block him for our own safety. 

i confronted gil myself about this a few weeks ago, and he continued to maintain his story that everyone’s lying to protect his privacy - even though we know for sure that wasn’t the case. he FINALLY owned up to it to me only once he saw i had proof and he was caught, and his reason for doing it was “he was bored”. he said he was sorry but he wasn’t truly apologetic - he either didn’t fully realize the scope of how hurtful his lies and manipulations were, or he just didn’t care, but the bottom line is that he always chose his fantasy of liz over his actual friends. around this time, once he knew he was caught, he also deactivated his private account, but brought it back a week or so later, with all of the subtweets and tweets about liz being deleted. all of the unverified accounts that were supposed to be liz - the tumblr account, psn, twitch, etc. - were all fake and made by him, so he could make it seem more real.

even if he WAS telling the truth about being friends with liz, he still would have completely violated her privacy by the amount of “secret” things he told all of us - from her kinks/sex life, to work life, to very personal things that he claims happened to her. knowing it’s all fake though, and he made up an entire personality and life for liz that doesn’t exist??? it’s insane.

now the part with kim - she’s known gil irl for over 10 years, and has tweeted about liz all the time, about how “good” liz is to her because of gil, and that she’s the one who encouraged him to talk to her. she brags about it constantly, even though none of it is real. she also tweeted multiple times throughout 2018-2019 about how gil “finally deserves to meet liz in person”, even though gil said he met liz irl back in 2017 or so - AND that she came to texas, where he lives, to meet him and his friends. when asked about her tweets, he said that kim’s account was “messed up” and her tweets weren’t “tweeted at the right time”. one of my friends reached out to tell her and show her the proof of gil lying, because gil has been lying to her and other people irl too, and instead she mocked us, belittled us, and chose not to believe a group of women coming to her about a 30 year old (!!) man manipulating us. gil said that kim was “aware of it all being a lie for years now” to me, but i think that was another lie, that he’s STILL lying to her about it. if not, then that means that kim was also lying for many years about knowing liz too, and used it to make us all the butt of her joke, so. so much for her being an “empath” and wanting to help people but anyways!!

the last screenshot is of her subtweeting us and implying that everyone involved with liz is lying for her and gil’s privacy, even though we have proof that that simply isn’t true.

i’m sorry for how long this is, but i need people to understand how serious this is. he’s been lying for 5 YEARS now about knowing liz - about her “accidentally sending nudes” to him, that gil is one of her best friends and he would’ve been at her wedding, that she’s a huge gamer who plays with him - all of it. it’s all lies. he created a fantasy version of liz that doesn’t exist, and incorporated into his real life, his friendships both online and off, and made it his entire personality. he’s not sorry about what he’s done - as i’m writing this, he’s still on tumblr, talking in the tags to “liz” again, because he’d rather uphold his fantasy life where he’s best friends with liz when in reality, she has no idea he even exists. and if she did, i’m certain that she would be disgusted with what he’s done. he lied about her, oversexualized her, used his kinks on her which was brought onto me - someone he knew that was vulnerable and had feelings for him, manipulated people into trying to believe his lies, gaslit people to make them unable to tell what was true and what was fake, and had absolutely zero respect for any of us. he even listened to me cry to him on the phone MULTIPLE times about how insecure and worthless i felt to him compared to liz, and he didn’t do ANYTHING about it. he sat there and listened to me cry, knowing he could own up to his lie, and he chose not to. he’s not sorry about what he’s done, and he’s going to continue to spread his lies. please block him. i can’t express how much he’s hurt me, the therapy that i need to have because of him, how much he’s hurt my friends and how little he respects women in general tbh. he always tried to come off as “one of the good guys” but now i know he’s harmful and not to be trusted. he even tried to separate me from my friends, and make it seem like they’re the ones making this situation even harder for him. i’ve tried so, so many times to get through to him, waiting to see if he’d change or show some remorse or anything, but after over a year of this i don’t think he will, and it genuinely hurts me to know that. BLOCK HIM.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Play by the rules' : an new chapter for "The woman with an strange name" is out !

Chapter Summary : The sheriff Eleazar Azoulay is taking the woman named Bell for an tour to discover the town and the numerous rules in place......

To read it on AO3, click here !

Taglist : @snowgoldwaylon (If anyone want to be added, feel free to tell me, same thing for my main fic "Redemption of an Spirit in an Cold War')

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"Okay, let's get going !" Azoulay exclaimed as he was starting to walk outside of his office while miss Bell was letting him pass, moving aside before she could join him too. "Don't forget to close the door for the moment." He ordered at her as he wanted to keep his own office secure, knowing how Adler's thugs can be in town, he wouldn't allow them to go inside his office and loot what was left inside even if there's only an few things useful for an outlaw in it.

"You're an man that is making sure to protect his property." Bell affirmed as she was slowly closing the door, an smile on her face and Azoulay was reciprocating the same move to her, adding an little nod to it.

"I'm trying my best, miss Bell." He told her as suddenly, his eyes went in the direction of an white horse with an blonde mane who was attached at the pole on the porch of his office. "Hey, is that your horse ?" He asked her, pointing at the horse and she nodded with an smile to him. "It's looking nice." He gave away his thoughts about the horse, stunned by the beauty of such an horse in here. "What is its name ?" He continued.

"She's an female, called her Butterfly." Bell replied, watching the sheriff slowly moving to stroke her horse's head with his right hand and she was surprised when her horse moved her head to get along with the sheriff hands. "Seems that she likes you, sheriff." She expressed, putting her hands on her belt, still witnessing the scene until the sheriff decided that it was better to let Butterfly alone and letting her drink in the brough.

"I didn't pay attention but you're armed." He gestured, his hand pointing at the revolver that was strapped at Bell's pants belt, his eyes trying to figure what type of revolver she was wearing. "Looks like you have an Colt Single Action Army." He figured out the revolver before Bell decide to give him an better showcase of the gun, looking well polished but an little rusted wooden grip with an engraved letter on it...'B' "You will have to watch out : Adler's gang doesn't very like the people with guns if they're not on their side, including the strangers."

"I'll see about it." Bell chuckled as she put her revolver back inside her holstler.

"If you ever need some bullets in case, you can ask to our gunsmith in town." Azoulay said before the two start to slowly walk out of the sheriff office to start the tour he wanted to do with her, starting by showcasing her the gun shop that was the first building in the beginning of their tour. "His name is Frank Woods if you want to know." He added, thinking that it could help her in case.

"That's sound interesting." Bell whispered to her, taking an closer look to the window where some guns were showcased and seeing the man behind an counter talking with an man in black clothes. "Sheriff, you might want to tell me the rules of the town ?" She demanded, turning around to look back at him.

"Oh yeah, let's continue walking slowly for that." He suggested as it was preferrable for him & her to talk about everything to know about this town along the tour instead of staying in place while people around were having their eyes on the duo, including the multiples armed men posted at differents places. "First, you need to know that mister Adler and his gang are the masters of this city meaning their priorities came first."

"So, if an member of their gang is wounded and an normal citizen too, the gang member is first to be healed ?" Bell thought as Azoulay nodded to her, meaning that she was right in saying that idea.

"Yes, drinks, guns & even prostitutes...they are prioritized and it's better that to not get under their way." He continued, giving an whole idea of what the town is under the control of Adler. "And if by bad moves or bad luck, you got yourself wounded, go see our doc' in town." He continued, walking with Bell near an bulding that was hold by the man in charge to heal. "Our doctor Lawrence Sims is also taking care of the horses of the stable just here." He pointed at the stable that was in fact just next to the doctor building and the duo could see briefly inside the stable, the doctor taking care of an horse.

"He's seems to be an nice guy." Bell expressed, seeing the man inside with an little smile on his face as Azoulay was having the same thing on his face.

"Sims is the best in his domain, you can be sure about it." He reassured her, making an little wawe to Sims as the two met gazes for an few instant before the stable's door got closed by the latter. "To continue...." He started, going back with her to walk again on the main road of the town. "If you maybe want to make an little prayer, you can go to the church." He stopped himself to look from afar at the church that was in another path. "Alex Mason, the priest....is an troubled man."

"Why that ?" Bell questioned him, looking curious as her eyes were on the man dressed as an priest that was greeting an woman and her little girl inside the church.

"He's an old army soldier but bad things happened and he became an priest here." Azoulay replied in an low voice to her as it was something complicated to talk and even, he wasn't able to learn more about the priest old stories. "Anyway, if you need to confess something, he's the man." He added before he could see Bell now watching at the big mansion that was at the end of the main road.

"I suppose that is the 'mayor's house'." She breathed, discovering the state of the house, very different from the others buildings around town and also guarded by heavily guarded men, more guarded than an army fort to be honest. "He doesn't joke about security here." She stated, her hands on her waist.

"Adler is making sure that the town play by the rules here." Azoulay told her, taking an deep breath at looking at this big house with his eyes. "He's controlling everything here, the taxes are collected by him and his men and no one is willing to stop them." He exclaimed, also his hands on his waist before he turned around to see the other side of the town.

"Not even the army or an group of US Marshall ?" Bell asked him and he sadly shook his head to her.

"There's an fort nearby but unfortunately, it happened to be the old unit of Adler himself and so, they're loyal to him." He responded as the duo started to walk back into the other way to return to the sheriff office. "And about US Marshalls, the last group that tried to help here finished hang by Adler." He muttered in an low voice, thinking at the sort of podium near his own office with an rope that did killed more innocents and mens of law than outlaws.

"So, it's like hopeless to think about the day the town will be free ?" Bell demanded after an little walk when the two arrived back at the porch of the sheriff office and she didn't even need an response as his face was saying in fact everything about it before the two got back inside with Azoulay, sitting on his chair.

"This town is like damned but we ain't want to think about it." He pass his hand behind his head to scratch it before looking back at Bell still standing up next to the door, the same positon she used when she came here first. "Guess that even with all of it, you wouldn't want to leave this place without looking back." He suggested, seeing her not even flinching at all.

"I just want to take some rest and discover an bit of this town." She affirmed to him, crossing her arms like before. "Is there any hotels here ?" She asked him.

"Near the saloon, you can find an room for you." He told her before making some little cough out of his mouth, covering it with his left hand. "Before you go, there's some little rules to know about here." He said, stopping her as she was getting ready to leave him alone in his office.

"I'm listening." Bell complied, moving to get sit on an chair on the other side of Azoulay's office.

"Don't put your hands against anyone related to Adler's gang." He started, putting his hands on his desk even if this rule was pretty obvious in that place right now. "Pay up your taxes if you, somehow, decide to install yourself here and don't look at Miss Park !" He continued in telling her the few importants rules in here until he could see an incomprehension on her face whille saying the last words.

"Don't look at miss Park ?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow to him, not understanding it at all.

"Yeah, strange but it's in fact one of the most important rules here." He claimed, knowing what happened when that rule is broken, having assisted to the scene earlier. "You can look at her from very afar but avoid this when you're close or very close." He added.

"And why is this miss Park unlookable ?" Bell demanded, very curious to know.

"She's Adler property." He replied, stretching his fingers while looking at her. "I don't know too much but she was part of an english family that was owning an orphenage until her whole family was killed by Adler's gang and he took her, now forced to be his wife." He continued, shaking his head to have that thought in head as Bell was attentive to that part. "Looking at her if you're not Adler and you are either warned or killed if you broke three rules here."

"Damn, she did suffer." Bell whispered to herself, looking aside for an moment before she looked back at him. "Since when ?"

"I don't know and I wouldn't want to know." He responded, gesturing with his hands that he was really meaning it before he got an serious look on his face. "You are pretty curious to be honest."

"That's an part of me, there's things I want to know." She admitted clearly to him, deciding to get up from her chair, ready to leave the office. "I think that I will go install myself to the hotel now."

"There's an party that will be happening tonight in the saloon, you could go there if you want." He explained to her at one second of her leaving the office and thankfully, stopping her in her moves. "I will not go but you can have an talk with me before." He suggested and she nodded to him.

"I will see, thanks sheriff." She smiled at him, making an little sign with her own hat, reciprocated in an second by the sheriff himself before she left the office, leaving him alone.

Now, she was alone on that porch of the sheriff office, watching around the whole town and the saloon that was just in front of the building at the other side of the road as some folks near by was still intrigued by the presence of an woman stranger in town, wondering what she was doing here and why here. She wasn't blind, she could see that she was like the center of the attention but that wasn't disturbing her, she knew that each town was adopting the same behavior to the strangers like her but with the complicated story of the town, she knew that their looks were more questioning than any town in the state.

She took an deep breath before moving to get back to her horse, to give her something to eat from the satchel Bell was wearing and stroking an bit her horse head, proud to have an horse that has been almost accompanying her for an part of her life. Instead of get on the horse, she decided to left her attached at the sheriff office as it wasn't necessary to get on to just attach her in the other side of the road and also, she knew that the sheriff was an good man.

After that, she crossed the road, focused to get inside the little hotel near the saloon as she was seeing armed men in black clothes at some points of that part of town, thinking that those men were surely part of Adler's security. She then entered the hotel, discovering the old man receptionist and to say, she was already seeing that on his face that there were something suspicious about him : an look that could say that she wasn't really welcome here.

"Hi !" She waved at the man with an smile, staying polite after all.

"What do you want ?" The receptionist asked her in an harsh tone like that without any reasons, causing her to be taken aback in the inside.

"Uh, you can be polite, you know ?" She told him in an serious voice as she was walking towards the reception desk....could say that this man wasn't like the sheriff....

"We don't like strangers here, always bringing troubles." He explained, removing his eyes from her to write in an book.

"I would like an room, please." She stayed polite to him even after his agressive tone as she put on the reception desk, five dollars, the price of an room here, looking at the little board behind the receptionist.

"Good, room 2A upstairs." He took the money off the desk and pointed at her, the stairs that was going up before putting an key on the desk. "Now, go !" He ordered in an harsh tone again and honestly, Bell would have like to take back her money and go away but she missed an real bed for an time so she couldn't refuse to leave.

Without any hesitations, she took the key he gave her from the desk and she walked away to get upstairs, the place was very modest but for her, it's just what she needed. She arrived in front of the room she rented and she entered it. The bed was barely made, some dressers around, an mirror to check herself and an view overlooking the main road and by luck, the sheriff office. That was enough for her as she closed the door behind her.

She didn't know what to do right now as an complete stranger in town with only an suggestion of the sherrif to go to an party organized at the saloon tonight and for the moment, the only thing she could do was to get some rest on the bed, not taking out her clothes as she wasn't willing to for the moment and her thoughts was about an lot of things about this town but she was sure of something real....

"This town is really special to be honest !"

[eldritchteaparty]

Chapters: 21/22 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain, Allan Schrieber Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting, Spiders

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: It’s time.

Chapter 20 of my post-canon fix-it is up! Read above at AO3 or read here below.

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here. 

***

Sasha hung up her phone and turned back toward Jon and Martin. “Well, that’s it then. They’re ready.”

She was referring to Allan and Elias, who were at Hill Top Road; Allan had wanted to take a few last-minute measurements, but mostly he’d wanted to be there to record what was about to happen.

Tim looked down at his own phone. “And Melanie just confirmed there’s no one left in the building—no one she and Georgie have been able to find, anyway.”

That morning, Jon had called Basira and asked her to shut down the Institute under the guise of further police investigation; she’d done so with remarkably little questioning. Martin didn’t know what Jon had told her they were doing, and he didn’t want to. He’d wondered for the first time that morning if she had been seeing him in her dreams. Now Georgie and Melanie were in the Institute, somewhere above them, waiting.

Sasha nodded. “Ok. Jon, look, I want to be completely clear—you can still change your mind. No one’s telling you you have to do this. You can still back out.”

“I understand,” Jon said. “And I’m not backing out.”

Sasha sighed. “Ok. Um—what’s next, then?”

Jon met Martin’s eyes for the first time since they had made their way in through the tunnels; he looked back at Sasha and Tim. “Would you give us a moment?”

“Yes—yes, of course. We’ll—um—”

“Don’t go too far. Stay in sight.”

“Right. Come on, Tim.”

Tim looked at Martin like he wanted to say something, but decided against it. Sasha spoke to him quietly enough that Martin couldn’t hear her words, and they turned their backs as they walked slowly toward one of the tunnels that converged on their current location in the Panopticon.

“I hate this place,” Martin said. It was the first thing that came into his head.

“So do I.”

“Do you, though?”

“Yes.”

Martin looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to fight with Jon right now, but the only words that came to his mind were angry and bitter. They were words he might have used to try to stop this, if he’d thought he could, but he knew they were well past that.

“I’m sorry,” Jon said, reaching a hand to Martin’s elbow.

“I’m—Jon, I’m scared.”

For a moment, just a moment, Jon faltered; he pulled his hand back slightly, and drew in a quiet breath. In the next moment, though, it was like it had never happened; Jon set his jaw and squeezed Martin’s arm.

“Are you ready?”

“No.” He nodded, though, because he knew Jon needed to see it.

“All right,” Jon said softly, before turning toward Tim and Sasha. “It’s time.”

Sasha took a deep breath. “Where should we—”

“Where you are,” Jon said. “That’s good. You should be safe if—you’ll have a chance to run if I’m not fast enough.” Martin assumed Jon was referring to the possibility of a tunnel collapse; if the apocalypse actually started, there was not going to be any outrunning it. “Martin, if there’s any chance you’d join them—”

“Absolutely not.”

“I didn’t think so.” Jon paused. “I—I have to say the words. I’m pretty sure you don’t—”

“I don’t,” Martin said. He brought his hands up to his ears and closed his eyes.

What happened next happened quickly, or at least it felt that way to Martin. It wasn’t at all like he’d imagined it would be. He was waiting to feel the terror, the darkness, the heavy weight of the apocalypse; it never came. Instead, there was stillness and quiet and tension. When he looked again, Jon stood in front of him, just as he had before.

“Jon?”

“I’m still here,” Jon said, but Martin wasn’t sure he agreed. Jon was looking at him, yet looking through him at the same time.

“Is it—”

“Yes.”

“This—this isn’t like before.”

“No. This part—this wasn’t for us. It was for him. For Jonah.” Jon’s voice was even, his words controlled; he didn’t sound like himself. “This time it’s mine.”

“Jon—”

“Hey,” Tim shouted, and Martin was pretty sure it wasn’t the first time he had tried getting Jon’s attention. As he remembered they weren’t alone, he looked up. Something was happening; there was a faint shimmer from the edges of the tunnels, almost but not quite beyond his range of vision.

“I thought you would only have a moment,” Tim said.

“This is only a moment,” Jon replied.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re already gone. Everyone outside of—of here, they’re already gone. They’re safe.” Jon smiled, but it wasn’t his smile, not really. Martin liked Jon’s smile; he didn’t like this one. “Just as long as I can—”

“What do you mean, this is only a moment?” Tim repeated.

“I meant—that it’s only a moment.”

Martin knew what he was trying to say. “Time isn’t—it’s different, Tim. It’s different in here.”

“Yes,” Jon said.

“Jon.” Sasha was visibly fighting to keep the fear out of her voice. “Jon, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m—I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Martin said. “What’s happening?”

“It’s fine.” Jon was quiet; he sounded very far away.

“Come on,” Sasha said. “Jon, come on. Talk to us.”

“It’s—it’s getting harder now that—I can do it, though. Just—just give me—”

The shimmer Martin had seen at the edges of the tunnels was slipping closer now, moving toward them. A static hum began to rise, although he couldn’t trace it back to anything in particular.

“They’re already too weak to escape. I just need to—I just—”

“Jon, what’s happening?” Martin stepped closer to him. “Tell us.”

“I can—” Jon swallowed; as he did, the calmness in his voice wavered. “It feels like—”

“Jon, please.”

“It’s like—it’s like pieces of me are—oh god.”

“Jon, just—just hang on.”

“Martin, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just—”

“I won’t be leaving here. When it’s done.”

The words didn’t hit Martin as hard as he thought they would. In fact, he realized, he had been expecting them. He felt something very much like relief, now that they had been said.

“Jon, don’t.” It was Tim who was angry. Martin wasn’t entirely surprised; he understood, not for the first time, that Tim would always choose anger. “Don’t just give in like that. Fight it.”

“I—I can’t. I’m not—this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Tim grimaced; Martin watched as he struggled, as he attempted to walk toward them, but he couldn’t.

“Martin,” he called out. “Come with us.”

Martin shook his head. “I’m staying with Jon.”

“No. You’re not.” Jon was working harder to get words out now. He seemed pained. “You can’t survive here. You’re not—listen to Tim. They’ll take care of you. You won’t be alone.”

“But you would be.” Unsure of whether Jon’s unfocused eyes could even see him, he took Jon’s hand. He wanted Jon to know he was there.

“Martin, don’t do this.” Tim called to him again. “Don’t be stupid. He’s—he’s gone.”

“If he’s gone, I am too.”

“Don’t make that choice.”

“You let Jon make his. I get to make mine.”

“Martin—”

Sasha put a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Tim, I know it’s—it’s awful, but—he’s right. We can’t make him leave.”

“But it’s wrong. It’s the wrong choice.”

“That’s not your—”

“Jon,” Tim tried again. “Do something, make him—”

The shimmer grew brighter, closer; the static grew louder. Although he could no longer see where they had been standing, he was sure Tim and Sasha were gone.

“Did you just—”

“Yes. They’re safe now. Please, Martin—”

“Are you going to do that to me too? Just shove me off into the next dimension?”

“I—I can’t.”

“You tried?”

“Yes.”

“Jon, how—how could you?”

“I just want you to be all right.” Jon was gasping now. “You have to be all right.”

“Then come with me. You already said they’re too weak to leave. You’ve won.”

“Martin, there’s too much of me that—that’s them. It’s too much.”

“Could you leave? If you wanted to?”

“I—it’s not—” Jon panted between his words. “I deserve to be here.”

“Well then, you know the deal. I don’t know if this is coming from you or—or something else, but you’ve always known the deal. That’s it.”

“You can’t,” Jon said.

“I can. I am.”

“Martin, you’ll—you’ll die.”

“I don’t care. And until I do, I’ll be with you."

They stood together, locked in a battle of wills. Martin could feel the pull now, the draw of whatever place the rest of the world had gone to; he resisted it. The static was very loud now. He wondered how long Jon could last like this, how long he could keep the door open. He hoped it wasn’t much longer.

“Well. This is not going very well, is it?”

Martin couldn’t see anyone—he could barely see where he and Jon were standing anymore—but he knew that voice well enough.

“Ignore her,” Jon pleaded desperately. “Martin—ignore her.”

He intended to ignore her, he really did, but she had found some foothold in his mind, hiding inside the static, and he couldn’t displace her.

“He’s lying to you, Martin.” Annabelle’s voice filled his head. “Well, not lying, he’s never been very good at that—but hiding things, now that’s a different matter entirely.”

“Shut up.”

“You’ll have to forgive him; he truly is in a lot of pain. I can’t imagine what it must be like. Having to choose between two parts of yourself as they are literally being torn away from one another.”

Jon. He grasped tightly at the hand that he still held in his own; if there was any response, he couldn’t feel it. If Jon was talking to him, he couldn’t hear it.

“It will be over soon enough.”

“Go away.”

“I intend to. I just wanted you to know first that if you stay, part of you will survive. And he knows that.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t know about it, of course; you wouldn’t be conscious of it. The Archivist is telling the truth, in as much as you couldn’t survive in a—well, traditional way. You’re not one of us. That’s probably a good thing for you. He’s just made things very messy.”

“Wait—I don’t understand—”

“Concentrate, Martin. I know it’s hard. There is a part of you—that part of you that is tangled up in the Archivist—that would survive. That part would stay here. With him.”

“What do you mean, with him?”

“We’re going to be here for a very, very long while, Martin. I don’t know if we’ll die—I don’t know if we can—but it is going to get quite lonely here for someone who was once a man. Are you listening?”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Does it matter?”

Martin thought about it, or he tried to; the pull he felt was growing stronger, more insistent. Certainly, she wouldn’t be here if making sure he stayed if it weren’t in her own interests. He had already been set on it; there was more to it, for her to risk this kind of intervention.

But it doesn’t matter, does it? The realization settled on him; he believed her, and that was enough. He wouldn’t let Jon suffer that mindless torment alone if he didn’t have to. Whatever else that brought, whatever the consequences were—whatever Anabelle wasn’t saying—it wouldn’t change anything about his decision.

Although the static continued to rise, the pull of the other dimension seemed to weaken, become less. He didn’t know if it actually had—if Jon himself was finally weakening—or if Annabelle’s words had pushed him harder to resist it. Perhaps it was both.

“Martin.” Jon’s sudden, renewed grip on his hand was painful. “Look at me. Tell me where you are.”

His eyes were clear again; his voice was steady. At least I can say a proper goodbye, Martin thought.

“Jon. I’m—I’m here. I’m with you.”

“You need to go. Right now.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He smiled; he wanted Jon to know it was ok, although he didn’t have the words anymore.

“You don’t have to. I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I’m going. But you need to go first.”

“I—I don’t believe you.” The finality that Martin had felt, the peace of knowing it was over, that it was decided, began to give way to uncertainty. “You’re lying.”

“Martin—please. I’m not lying. I will follow you. I want to.”

“If you’re really going, just—just take me with you. Like you did last time.”

“I can’t.” Jon brought his palm to Martin’s face, and the rippling static subsided just a little. “I can’t. It’s—once I leave here, leave them, that bond between us, it’s—it’s broken. I can’t bring you with me. You have to go first.”

“Jon—"

“I’ve already let this go too long. Maybe, though—if you go now, we can still—”

It wasn’t fair. It was never fair. “I—”

“Martin—trust me. Please, just—just trust me.”

The buzz of static was wearing him down; it was too hard to think. He was tired. He was confused.

If he stayed, then Jon would stay too; Jon wouldn’t be alone.

If he left—

Trust me. Jon’s voice broke through the static.

Trust me. Martin wanted to; he always wanted to. It was just that—

Trust me.

“Ok.” The sobbing, panicked voice he heard didn’t feel like it belonged to him. “Ok.”

Jon’s forehead pressed against his. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Jon kissed him.

Martin closed his eyes; he made his choice.

[ollieofthebeholder]

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

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 26: Jon

When Jon’s grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep, not long after his twenty-fourth birthday, he quickly discovered that her life insurance and savings weren’t enough to cover all the bills that needed to be covered and put the house he’d grown up in on the market. He only vaguely remembers the whole procedure, as he was in something of a state of shock at the time, but he does remember accepting the first offer presented to him despite the realtor’s comments that he could “probably hold out for a bit more” if he wanted. Thus, he’s the only one not really startled at the speed with which he, Martin, and Tim find out that they’ve got the house.

To be clear: He’s not startled at the speed. He is, however, startled that they got it. Surely someone must have been willing to pay more for it, been better qualified. But no. They learn their offer has been accepted less than a week after the Primes’ disastrous encounter with Basira’s partner and the closing is scheduled for the following Friday. Martin theorizes that their position at the Magnus Institute gave them some extra clout. Tim jokes that it’s his charismatic personality. Jon frets that Elias might have had something to do with it for nefarious purposes.

Sasha finally does some research and tells them that it’s being sold by a pair of siblings barely out of their teens whose parents died unexpectedly and probably just need the money fast.

Martin doesn’t have much, just the little he managed to bring with him to the Institute when first escaping Jane Prentiss and the few things he’s re-acquired since then, and Jon’s things are still packed up from when he declined to renew the lease on his flat in August, so it’s mostly just Tim who needs to decide what he’s keeping and what he’s ready to part with or needs to replace. It takes them the better part of two Saturdays, but they manage to get everything boxed and sorted in time to move out the last full weekend of September.

The moving-in process is surprisingly fun. Sasha and the Primes even come to help (Tim suggests the latter so that Martin Prime knows his way around the house from the get-go, which is actually really sensible) and they make a party of it. Tim insists on setting up the sound system first, then gets everyone to contribute a certain number of songs to a playlist on some app he has on his phone. He puts it on shuffle and lets it play while they work together on the various rooms.

“Oh, my God,” Sasha moans after the eighth song that she evidently didn’t pick comes on. “Do any of you listen to a single band that’s put out an album since 1984?”

“Yes,” Martin says indignantly, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Remasters don’t count.”

Martin Prime grins. “None of mine have come up, either.”

“What did you put on?” Sasha asks suspiciously.

She gets her answer a few minutes later when, after shuffle coughs up a Spice Girls song they all tease her mercilessly about, an honest to God sea shanty comes on. Tim and Jon laugh at Sasha’s dramatic, despairing groan, but it’s hard not to respond to the Martins’ enthusiasm as they—surprisingly—harmonize along with the recording while they set up the living room.

They’re almost done assembling the new bed Tim bullied Jon into buying (“You’re not in uni anymore, you don’t need to be sleeping on a futon, and anyway, when was this made, the Thatcher premiership?” “Brown, and shut up, Tim.”), which is the last piece of furniture they need to put together, when there’s a sound from the front door—two firm, solid knocks, audible all the way upstairs. Jon nearly drops the screwdriver as his heart kicks against his ribs. It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid, but two knocks like that always makes him think of that book.

Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat. “God, hope the music isn’t too loud.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Martin says, but he sounds uncertain. “I-I mean, it’s been ages.”

Jon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll check.”

He hurries out of the bedroom before anyone can comment on the clear break in his voice. He is, and there is no way to deny it to himself, legitimately afraid of what might be outside. The likelihood of it being a being of another entity is slim, but…well, there was Mr. Spider, and Jane Prentiss knocked on Martin’s door more than a few times to keep him off-balance, so there’s always the chance. It’s something he feels he can deal with, though, so he heads out to face it.

He does not, however, expect to open the door and be faced with what is either a small child or a casserole dish with tennis shoes.

“Hello,” a tiny voice says brightly from behind the dish. There’s a bit of shifting, and then two big brown eyes and a mass of curls appear over the rim. “I’ve brought you a cake.”

Jon will deny to his dying day that those words freeze his blood in his veins and make his heart stutter to a stop, but since this might actually be his dying day, he’ll be lying if he tries. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“And a casserole, too,” the child continues, completely oblivious to Jon’s unwarranted panic attack. “That’s not as much fun, though, but Nan says it’s important to eat good, hearty food when you’ve been doing lots of work and that cake shouldn’t be a whole meal. I think there’s no point in being a grown-up if you can’t eat whatever you want, but…” The child heaves an enormous, dramatic sigh that seems too large for such a small body. “My Nan’s very, very old, and you don’t get to be old if you don’t do something right, so she must know what she’s talking about. Anyway, we made the casserole with lots and lots of cheese and she said that was okay, so at least it’s a little better.”

“Ah—thank you?” Jon manages. “H-here, let me…take that.”

He manages to extract the casserole dish, which certainly feels as if it’s laden with cheese; it weighs the proverbial ton. Quite possibly a literal one. It’s solid enough to anchor Jon to reality, though, and he studies his benefactor. The child can’t be more than seven or eight, at the most, with a round face and limbs hidden in an oversized, threadbare sweater that looks like it’s been handed down through more than a few generations. Dangling from one arm is a wicker basket that does indeed appear to contain a cake.

“It’s a chocolate cake with marshmallow frosting,” the child says. “I tried to write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ on it, but I didn’t put the tip on the piping bag right and it came off, so now it’s just a mess, but it’ll taste just as good, I promise. My Nan makes the best cakes.”

Jon smiles in spite of himself. “I don’t think I have enough hands to take it from you now. Would you mind bringing it into the kitchen for me?”

“Oh, sure!” The child practically hops over the threshold. “I always wanted to see what this house was like on the inside. Tibby used to babysit for me sometimes, but she always came over to our house, never me coming over here. Nan says it’s better that way, and Tibby always said it was laid out exactly like all the other houses, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. Firsthand knowledge is best, that’s what I think. What do you think?”

“I—I think I agree with you,” Jon says. He also feels a bit like he’s staring at his younger self. “I assume you live in one of the other houses on the row?”

“Two doors down,” the child agrees cheerfully. “With the window boxes. My Nan likes to garden a bit, but she can’t bend over so much anymore, so Toby set up the window boxes for her a couple years ago.”

“And, uh, who is…Toby?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you knew. Toby McGill. He and Tibby—that’s his sister Tabitha, but everyone calls her Tibby—they were the ones selling this house after their parents died. He’s at Surrey University now and he says he’s going to stay out there when it’s all said and done, and Tibby got a job on a boat.” The child sounds deeply impressed. “I want to be a sailor someday, too. Can you imagine getting to see the whole wide world by water and getting paid for it, too? I’d never want to leave. I told Tibby she has to save a spot on the crew for me and she laughed and promised, so I can’t wait. I’m going as soon as I grow up. I’m not going to university. You don’t need to go to university for everything, you know. I know Nan really wants me to go ‘cause Mum didn’t and neither did Dad and she doesn’t want me turning out like them, but you can turn out well even if you don’t go to university, can’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Jon says gravely. He casts an involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Martin. “One of my housemates didn’t go to university, and he’s one of the most brilliant people I know.”

“How many of you live here, anyway?”

“Just three of us.” Jon has no idea how much this child has seen and how many people he knows are in the house at the moment.

“Oh. There used to be three of us in my house, too.” The child scuffs a toe against the carpet just before they step into the kitchen. “And then there was going to be four, but Mum died and the baby did, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says softly, feeling a pang. “I grew up with my grandmother, too.”

The child looks up at Jon and smiles, in such a way that Jon can’t help but smile back. “And you turned out okay.”

“Debatable,” Jon says. He sets the casserole dish on the counter. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Cane.” The child smiles up at him and hands over the basket. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Tell your grandmother we said thank you. I don’t know that any of us will have the energy to cook tonight. We’ll bring back the dishes tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. Nan doesn’t go anywhere.” Charlie flashes Jon a grin that’s missing two teeth, then turns and waves to the doorway. Jon glances up to see Martin, looking somewhere between worried and amused. “Hi! I’m Charlie Cane. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you live here, too?”

“Um…yes. I’m Martin Blackwood. It’s…nice to meet you?” Martin raises an eyebrow at Jon.

“Charlie and his grandmother made us a casserole,” Jon says, gesturing at the counter. “And a cake.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Martin smiles at Charlie and winks, although Jon doesn’t quite understand why.

“Welcome.” Charlie’s beaming smile could probably light the house for a week. “I’d best go before Nan thinks I’m doing something stupid again. See you later!”

He’s out the front door before Jon can respond, or even blink. He looks back to Martin, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Jon. We were just wondering if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”

Jon gestures vaguely at the front door. “I don’t think that child has many people to talk to. Or at least not many people who will listen to him.”

Martin snorts. “I think you’ve got yourself a new best friend.”

Jon almost wants to say something flippant like Just what I need, but thinking on it, he actually doesn’t mind all that much. “Considering how much I would have given to have an adult pay that kind of attention to me when I was his age, I think I can handle that.”

Martin reaches over and pulls Jon into a hug. Jon lets himself be comforted for a moment, then extricates himself gently and smiles. “Come on. Let’s see if the others are ready to eat.”

As it turns out, the others finished putting together the bed and even made it while Jon talked to Charlie, so they’re all too happy to come into the kitchen for a hearty meal. It’s exactly as cheese-laden as Charlie promised. Jon recounts his conversation, to general amusement, although something flickers briefly across Martin Prime’s face and Jon Prime shoots Jon an understanding and slightly frightened look when he repeats Charlie’s opening words. If anyone else notices, they give no sign of it.

Tim lets the music keep playing while they eat. Jon mostly tunes it out, no pun intended, and he rather suspects the others do too. But just as they’re scraping their plates clean—the food is delicious, and Tim declares he’s going to try and charm Charlie’s grandmother out of the recipe—Martin Prime suddenly tilts his head to one side, as if trying to catch a sound. A smile twitches at his lips, and he stands up and holds out a hand to Jon Prime. “May I?”

Jon Prime looks startled for a split-second, then smiles—no, grins—and places his hand in Martin Prime’s. He lets Martin Prime pull him away from the table and into his arms, and the two of them start slow-dancing.

Jon pauses, fork suspended over his plate, and watches them. Jon Prime lets Martin Prime lead him in a simple box step, one arm draped casually over Martin Prime’s shoulder, while Martin Prime’s hand rests firmly at his waist; their other fingers are laced together in a way that would make it difficult to telegraph intended moves if they didn’t—probably—know each other so well. The space between them is so little it’s a wonder they don’t constantly trip over each other’s feet, and before long their foreheads touch. The song is gentle and plaintive, encouragement from one partner to the other to trust and relax and allow the first to take care of the second, a promise that the second person won’t be considered weak or lesser if they allow themselves to be comforted.

I promise you’ll be safe here in my arms…

Martin Prime lifts his arm and spins Jon Prime around gently, and when Jon Prime comes back into the closed frame, he leans his head against the shoulder where his hand isn’t resting and closes his eyes. Martin Prime pulls him closer and rests his cheek alongside Jon Prime’s as they continue dancing. It’s one of the most intimate and romantic things Jon has ever seen, and he almost has to look away from it.

Almost. Not quite. Something keeps him drawn, and there’s a tiny part of Jon’s brain that suggests it probably isn’t just the pleasure at seeing someone who’s basically him safe and happy and in love mixed with the vague sense of longing for something like that—maybe not that exactly, but something like it. It may also be that watching the Primes slow dancing means he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

The song plays itself out. Martin Prime turns his head slightly; Jon Prime turns his at the same time, and their lips meet gently in the middle. This time Jon does look away. He’s never quite been able to figure out how he feels about kissing, to be honest; it’s one of the things that sent his and Georgie’s relationship down in flames, was the fact that he always acted like you think I’ve got poison in my lip gloss, according to her. But he finds himself wondering for a moment what Martin’s lips would feel like against his, if they’d be as soft and warm as the rest of him. If it might make a difference to kiss Martin instead of Georgie, or Meredith, or Kelly. And that’s not a question he’s comfortable asking himself just then, let alone trying to answer.

The scrape of a chair breaks his attention, and he looks up to see the Primes sitting down like nothing happened, although they’re still holding hands. Tim clears his throat. “Who wants cake?”

The cake is, as promised, a bit of a mess—it looks like someone tried to tease out the blob created by the icing tip popping off with a toothpick or something, but the resultant design looks like the pictures someone showed Jon once of a web woven by a spider that had been fed caffeine, and the fact that the icing is bright red doesn’t help—but it is absolutely delicious.

Afterward, Tim and Jon store the leftovers while Martin and Sasha start on the dishes. Jon Prime glances at the kitchen clock and touches Martin Prime on the shoulder. “We should probably go. The later it gets, the more likely that…someone might cruise by the Institute, and I’d rather not risk that.”

Martin Prime squeezes Jon Prime’s hand gently, and Jon swallows on the sudden surge of nausea. They haven’t seen anything of Detective Tonner, and Basira didn’t say anything about her when she showed up last week to switch out the tapes, but the memory of the Primes’ faces when they stumbled back to Tim’s place to change and return his car is a hard one to shake. Even though Jon Prime swears he and Daisy eventually became friends, it’s the eventually that sticks out, and Jon isn’t sure what he’ll do if Daisy turns up at the Institute. It’s also obvious that the Primes are more afraid of her than they’re letting on.

Tim opens his mouth, probably to invite them to spend the night or something, but Sasha beats him to it. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’d rather not walk to the tube station by myself, if it comes to that, and I think you said there’s an entrance to the tunnels near there.”

Jon Prime frowns slightly. “I…don’t think I did, but there is.”

“We’ll walk with you, Sasha,” Martin Prime assures her.

Tim sighs theatrically. “I feel a little better, which is a relative statement not to be taken as approval.”

“Your objection is duly noted.” Sasha hands Martin a plate to dry.

All too soon, everything is cleaned up, just as the playlist comes to an end, and there’s really no way of stalling them further. There’s a round of hugs and see-you-Mondays, and then Sasha and the Primes head out the door, leaving Jon, Martin, and Tim alone in their new house.

It’s not that late, comparatively, so Jon suggests a card game. They’ve played most nights since Sasha went back to sleeping in her own flat; they’ve played a couple of games of Rummy or Go Fish, and Tim once tried to teach Jon and Martin a game he learned from his grandparents that uses a forty-card deck (Martin picked it up quickly, Jon did not), but most of the time they play Crazy Eights. Tim declares that they’re going to keep playing until either he or Jon or both manage to overtake Martin’s score, which is clearly going to be an impossible task, as he’s up by nearly a thousand points and consistently wins at least three or four games a night. Still, they give it a valiant effort. After Martin manages to go out while both Tim and Jon still have an eight each in their hand, though, they decide to call it quits for one night.

“Someday I’ll figure out how you keep doing that,” Jon says, shuffling the deck lightly before putting it back in the box.

Martin shrugs. “Practice, I guess? I used to play with my granddad a lot when I was younger. We kept a running total, too, and I think I was up three thousand points or so when he died.”

Tim gives a low whistle. “How old were you?”

“Nine. We’d been playing pretty regularly since I was five. At least one game every time I went to visit.”

Jon thinks back to the conversation he and Martin had in Tim’s kitchen the morning after Prentiss’s attack. “Is this the grandfather who had the cherry trees?”

“You remembered.” Martin looks pleased. “Yeah, he was my mum’s dad. I never met my dad’s family, that I remember anyway.” He pauses. “You, uh, you told Charlie you were raised by your grandmother. Was that…?”

Jon didn’t know Martin was there, but he’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to figure out how to bring it up. “My father’s mother. She was…formidable. My father died when I was two, from an accidental fall, and my mother died a couple years later. Surgery complications.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin says softly. “That must have been hard on you.”

“Harder on my grandmother, I think. I was barely old enough to remember them.” All Jon remembers of his father is his laugh, and he’s fairly certain that most of his memories of his mother come from his aunt.

Tim leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Is she still around? Your grandmother?”

Jon shakes his head. “She died just before I started working at the Institute. What about yours, Tim?”

“My dad’s dad is the only grandparent still around. I think.” Tim worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I’d like to think someone would call me if something happened, but I don’t know.”

Martin hums sympathetically. “Is he…in a home?”

“Not as far as I know. Last I heard, he was still living with my parents. Moved in when Granny died, just after I left for university.” Tim sighs. “We’re not…close. After Danny…”

Jon reaches over and touches Tim’s arm gently. “It must be hard on them, losing a son. No parent expects to outlive their child.”

“That’s just it. Mum refuses to believe he’s dead.” Tim smiles weakly. “No body, you know? Dad isn’t sure, but he also thinks I know more than I’ve told them. Grandfather all but accused me of having a hand in Danny’s disappearance.”

“What?” Jon blinks, shocked. “How could anyone think you’d—you would never.”

“I know, but…well, Dad’s family was always a bit conservative, blue collar and all that, and I’m…well, me. I think that’s why Dad encouraged my hiking and camping and all that. Hoped it would knock some ‘sense’ into me,” Tim says with a wry twist of his lips. “Once I came out as bi, though, I think they decided there was no hope left for me. It just got worse after Danny died.”

Martin’s expressive face closes down, and Jon’s stomach lurches. This is the most they’ve talked about their families in…ever, he thinks, but from the little bits of information Martin—and Martin Prime, for that matter—have let slip, Jon has formed a very unfavorable impression of Martin’s mother. He’s always kind of had a hazy idea that Tim’s family situation was better, especially after he heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Danny when giving his statement, and finding out that it wasn’t much better than theirs…

“How old were you?” he asks, not sure why. “When you—told them.”

“Seventeen. There was a guy I’d been seeing—nothing serious, really, but we had fun together—and we went out for Valentine’s Day. My parents were confused because they knew my girlfriend and I had just broken up before Christmas and I hadn’t mentioned another girl, so I told them about Steve.” Tim gets quiet for a second. “Mum cried. Dad just…told me to stop upsetting my mother and never brought it up again. Not until Grandfather started in on me.”

Jon swallows. “You’ve a great deal more courage than I have. I—I never admitted to my grandmother that I ever had any interest in boys, let alone dated one.”

“Only one? You’re missing out.” Tim’s grin is a pale echo of his usual one, but it is at least genuine. “How ‘bout you, Martin?”

“A few.” Martin relaxes with a visible effort that makes Jon’s heart ache. “Been out since I was fourteen. Mum reacted…about as well as she reacted any other time I told her something she didn’t like or did something she wasn’t expecting. I never brought anyone home to meet her or…really talked to her about my dating, and she only ever brought it up in relation to herself. Like saying it was a good thing there wasn’t any risk of me passing on any of my numerous undesirable traits to a helpless child.”

“I don’t think your mum understands what ‘bisexual’ means,” Tim points out.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gay.” Martin grimaces. “I’m also ace, so no risk there anyway, but…”

Jon wants to say any child would be fortunate to count you as a father or I can’t think of a single undesirable trait about you, but what actually comes out is, “Ace?”

“Uh, asexual. It’s—I don’t…get attracted like that. Romance, sure, aesthetic stuff and all that, but not…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Tried it anyway, for a couple of guys I was with, but i-it didn’t go well.”

Jon’s world view shifts abruptly on its axis. Tim, though, looks suddenly worried. “Are you okay? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” Martin says quickly. “It wasn’t—I just don’t like it. That’s all.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Never bothered telling Mum that part. She wouldn’t…I’ve done enough damage.”

Tim pulls Martin into a quick one-armed hug, and Jon reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as gently as he can, but they change the subject after that.

They end up sitting up for a while in their new living room, relaxing. Tim props his feet up in the recliner and works on a crossword; Jon curls up at one end of the sofa with a book he’s been meaning to read for years that Jon Prime assures him he’ll love; Martin sits at the other end and knits. It about bowled Jon over completely when he learned that Martin made most of the sweaters he wears, but the sight and sound of him working away has become increasingly familiar in the last few weeks, especially after the Primes and the rest of the crew collaborated to get him an array of needles and knitting wool in all colors of the rainbow for his birthday. Jon usually finds the gentle clicking of the needles soothing, but tonight it’s just a hair distracting, and he keeps glancing up from the page to watch Martin’s fingers as they expertly manipulate the yarn or Tim tap the eraser of his pencil thoughtfully against his jaw while he contemplates an answer. He’s not even quite sure what he’s looking at.

Finally, Tim lays down his puzzle with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna turn in,” he says, sounding oddly reluctant. “Long day and all that.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna—” Martin works a couple more stitches and folds up his project. “Probably a good stopping place for tonight.”

Jon considers saying he’s going to stay in the living room and finish the chapter he’s on, but if he’s being completely honest, he’s been on the same page for however long it’s been and hasn’t taken in a single word. Silently, he slides the scrap of paper he’s currently using as a bookmark back between the pages and closes the book. “Well. Good night, then.”

“’Night, Jon.”

The bedrooms are all upstairs, two on one side and one on the other with the bathroom handy, and the three of them wish each other goodnight again before disappearing into their rooms. Jon closes the door and looks around the room, his room.

There’s not much to it, to be honest. A nightstand, a dresser, a battered desk he’s had since he was a child, a lamp and the bed. He sets the book on top of the desk and changes into his comfortable sleep clothes, then crawls into the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders.

It’s…odd. No, not odd. Jon can’t quite think of the right word for it. But the sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and they don’t smell right, either, probably because they’re new. The mattress that felt perfectly comfortable when he tested it out in the store doesn’t seem to afford the same comfort now, and he wonders if the floor model has simply had much of the stiffness tested out of it over time. Even the pillows, which he did retain from his old bedroom setup, seem determined to thwart his attempts to find a comfortable position.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, arm draped over his midsection. He won’t fall asleep like this, he’s always been a side-sleeper, but his mind is a seething roil of emotions and he needs to get his thoughts under control before he can even have a hope of getting comfortable enough to sleep, he guesses.

Asexual. Jon probes at the word, at what it describes. I don’t get attracted like that. I just don’t like it. Honestly, until meeting Georgie, Jon had no idea that sort of attraction really existed; he thought it was just something out of the lurid romance novels his grandmother favored and he’d read once or twice in sheer desperation. It was something she’d wanted, though, so he’d tried a few times, but his efforts hadn’t satisfied her and he never really saw what all the fuss was about. He can take it or leave it, preferably the latter.

He never knew there was a word for it.

Suddenly, he wants to talk to Martin about it, about how he realized, how he knew. Where he found the word. If there are many more like—well, like them, he supposes. If that’s one of the reasons he was reluctant to tell Jon how he felt. He wants to ask about Martin’s experiences, if they were bad just because his body didn’t want them or for some other reason. A part of him also wants to cry from sheer relief. He isn’t broken. There’s nothing wrong with him. Well, not in that respect, anyway.

He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side again, plumping the pillows and curling one arm around them. They’re too flat, he thinks idly, too soft and yielding. Which is odd, because that’s never bothered him before. He can’t seem to get warm, either, which is also bizarre because it’s been an unusually mild day for late September and he’s under the duvet he’s had for years, which suddenly seems too light and insubstantial. The room is too quiet and still. It all feels…wrong, somehow.

Jon closes his eyes and stubbornly tries to force sleep, to no avail. The sense of wrongness pervades his being, curling through him and keeping him tethered to consciousness. He runs through the list of problems he seems to be having and tries to come up with which one might be keeping him awake. The only thing he can think of is the unfamiliar mattress. Everything else is exactly the way it was in his old flat.

And when was the last time you slept there? The thought hits him all of a sudden, and his eyes snap open. He forgot. The last time he slept in his apartment was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. Ever since then, he’s been sleeping in Tim’s living room…or in Tim’s bed. With the others.

That’s all it is. He isn’t used to the silence of being alone. He’s not used to not knowing, right away, exactly where Tim and Martin are and if they’re safe. He’ll just go and check on them, see that they’re safe, and he’ll be able to get to sleep just fine.

He throws back the covers, slides his glasses back on, and heads into the hallway. Jon somehow ended up in the room by the bathroom, while Tim and Martin are on the other side of the hallway. Martin’s room is first, though, so Jon heads there. He’s as careful as he can be. Martin is probably asleep by now. He definitely seemed tired while they were still in the living room, and Jon wonders if he lingered because the other two were still sitting down there. It makes him feel slightly guilty, like he should have called it a night earlier so Martin can get some sleep. And after all, they did have a very emotionally draining conversation, which probably exhausted him as well. All that runs through Jon’s mind as he slowly, slowly eases the door open and peers around it to see into Martin’s room.

It’s sparsely furnished; nothing but a bed and one of those flimsy pop-up cloth jobs bisected into cubes, which is serving as his dresser. Martin’s laptop and phone sit on the floor, both connected to their chargers. The bed is mussed slightly and shows signs of having been occupied, but Jon’s heart rate accelerates when he looks at it. It’s empty.

There’s no sign of a struggle, he tells himself, and he heard nothing, so surely everything is fine. Martin’s probably just in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a glass of water or something. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jon will just…go check on Tim and Tim will be fine and then he’ll go find Martin and make sure he’s fine and it…will…be…fine. He pulls the door closed and turns to Tim’s room.

The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a faint glow coming from the room. Jon hesitates, then taps lightly on the door three times before easing it open. Tim is sitting up on the bed, cross-legged and leaning forward slightly. And—Jon’s shoulders slump in relief—Martin is there, too, on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side and the other tucked underneath him. They’re talking quietly, but both obviously exhausted. They look up at the sound of the door opening and watch Jon stand in the doorway. He opens his mouth, then realizes he doesn’t know what to say and closes it again.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Martin asks gently. The circles under his eyes are almost black.

“No,” Jon admits. “I—I just wanted to—” He breaks off, still not sure what to say.

Wordlessly, Tim holds out a hand. Jon lets the bedroom door shut behind him as he comes forward and takes it. Martin wraps an arm around him from behind, and the two of them pull Jon onto the bed and into a lying-down position. Tim rolls over and snaps off the lamp by his bed, then pulls the covers up over all three of them. Jon manages to reach down and snag the middle to help.

“Better,” Tim murmurs.

It’s not a question, but Jon hums in agreement anyway. Trying for levity, he says, “Shame to waste money on new beds, though.”

“We’ll be able to sleep there eventually,” Martin says. Jon only realizes how much stress was in his voice when it’s drastically lessened. “At some point we’ll probably want the space. But for now, there’s this.”

“For now, there’s this,” Jon agrees. He tilts his head back briefly to rest it against Martin’s shoulder, and Martin scoots in closer.

Tim does, too, the two of them sandwiching Jon securely between them. “Get some sleep,” he says. “It’ll be all right tomorrow.”

Jon yawns and closes his eyes, and it doesn’t really surprise him when he falls asleep straightaway. The nightmares are as present as ever, but in the morning, he can almost fool himself into believing they weren’t so bad.

Almost.

[fiercemachines]

Just gonna RL ramble about my New Years resolutions and my new year, new me, while reflecting on what led me here. And yeah...  I got some stories to tell. There is a TW for mentions of depression and s**cide: if you’re not in the headspace to hear about that right now, please go ahead and pass this post by, I’ll understand. (and if you don’t want to read my long rambly rl stuff and just want more Sims, that’s fine too. This is mostly for me.) 

2020 was a terrible year for me, and not just for the most obvious reason why it was a terrible year for everyone. A lot of low points for me personally. Some of you already know the worst one, and another was someone who used to be a friend pretty much making my life miserable. Added to the stress of living through a pandemic and facing an uncertain future, I admit at times it was all too much.

As some of you know I’ve struggled with clinical depression for quite awhile. With help from a caring counselor, friends, and family, I’ve pulled through. Wow... those are words I had always hoped I’d say, but somehow never thought I would. It feels amazing to say them. I’ve come so far. The days where I was crying alone in my bathtub seem so far away.

Depression has been a battle for me. It’s torn my mind to shreds, left me a broken shell of a person, and threatened my relationships with those I love most. I can’t describe it adequately, because how can someone describe a feeling that is everything and nothing? I remember a quote from a Star Wars novel, likening a trauma to “being murdered, and surviving.”  How true it is. Depression is your mind waging war on you. You’ll never understand it unless you’ve lived it. For far too many, it becomes their tomb.

I’m fortunate. I’ve never entertained the thought of killing myself, but I have been in the deepest darkness of depression long enough to see how some people might feel it’s an option. Like there’s no way out. I’d never do it, but my head has been in that dark of a place and I’ve seen how easily your mind can turn to that. It seems so easy to give up when you’ve hit rock bottom. I’ve clung to life even in the darkness, but it could have been so much different. While the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach has now been replaced with peace, and my sleepless nights have been filled with rest, it was a struggle to get to this point. One I couldn’t have done alone. 

Guys, I cannot express enough what a treasure therapy is. Never be ashamed to ask for help! A doctor who is there to listen, to understand, and to help is so valuable for those who are hurting. I hope deeply that if you’re reading this and you’re feeling like there’s no way out, that you realize there’s so much to live for and that there’s people willing and able to help! If nothing else, know that I know how you feel. I believe in you. Keep going. If there’s one person who doesn’t even know you willing to tell you that, trust me. There’s others.

I’ve learned the hard way that some of the most toxic people in your life can come disguised as “friends”. People you keep around even when you know they are leading you to ruin. I had such an encounter: a person who once called himself a friend and who started using me as a mental punching bag. It’s easy to say anything when it’s words on a screen, it takes a special kind of cowardice to taunt someone you can’t see. After awhile, I started to think... fuck this person. I don’t need that kind of drama in my life. We parted ways acrimoniously, but looking back at this scenario I am actually thankful it happened. There was a silver lining even in something bad: it was one less black mark in my life. A little less heaviness in my heart. In my book, that’s something to celebrate. I’ll take all the reasons to be of good cheer that I can get. The past is behind me.

2020 was my  annus horribilis. 2021 is another story. I’ve resolved to learn from my painful past and be the best I can be. I’ve crawled out of the hole, and I haven’t looked back. 

- Upping my exercise (one full hour, baby!!)

- 4L of water a day (can’t believe the energy I’ve had)

- Time to myself (I have a habit of saying yes too much. Sometimes no is ok)

- Better diet. (I’m vegan and eat well, but it could be better)

I’m not doing any of those things to fit an image, or anyone’s perception of how I should be. I’m doing it for the person who matters most: me. As a wise sage once said “If you can’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?”.  I have underlying conditions that make this routine important for me to follow, as well. It’s not for everyone, and you do you when it comes to that sort of stuff. 

After the horrible time I had last year... I can’t believe the changes. I’ve got my focus back. My creativity is off the charts. I breathe better, and sleep easier. I’m ... happy. Life is actually bright. Do you know how long it’s taken me to say that? An. Entire. Year. And now, I’m to a point where I can say yes, I made it out of the rain. It’s so liberating. 

Don’t look at my story as a sad one. I don’t. I look at my life, and I see hope. Happiness. It was hard fought. I’ve cried myself to sleep many a night. Wondered it anything was worth it anymore. I’m telling you... it’s all worth it. The pain. The tears. The hard times. Because I got through them, and I’m looking at the other side. On the other side, there’s good times. Smiles. Friends. Love. Healing. Happiness! And if you’re reading this, and you can’t see the bright future ahead? It’s there, trust me. Don’t give up. Don’t quit. I believe in you. Keep going. 

This was all hard to write, but if my pain can help someone out there still suffering, then I’m happy. 

My words aren’t much, but maybe they will touch someone just as someone once did for me. I know you’re reading this. Thank you. I love you. 

[m-jeevas]

Eyes Fixed On the Sun

Word Count: 796

Summary:

An excerpt from an upcoming piece detailing the lost years between Mello’s time leaving Wammy’s House and his subsequent reappearance four years later.

11/4/2004

They weren’t about to send two kids out to the streets to fend for themselves. Not completely. Matt, in the midst of L’s death and Mello’s subsequent meltdown, became something of a messenger. Or a mediator. It was Near that pulled him into his room and pressed two cell phones into Matt’s hands.

“You’ve heard, right?” Had he heard? Matt was the first one Mello had run to, furious nearly to the point of tears. But with Mello, the tears never spilled. He’d blinked them away, screaming, so agitated that he was laughing to himself as he blurted out the news of L’s death. The forfeit of his succession.

Matt had almost told him to calm down, that he wasn’t thinking.

Mello was always thinking.

The fury that lit in his eyes would only be satiated by vengeance, righteous or not. And once Mello made up his mind, there was no changing it. “Yeah,” Matt confirmed.

The mediator.

He flipped the phone open. Even for the simple device that it was, it had been layered with an excessive amount of encryption. Matt could play around and take a peek at the contacts inside. Anyone else? Good fucking luck. Likely, only Near’s number sat on it. Otherwise, a blank slate. No contact with Wammy’s House or the other children. Just Near. If even that.

This was a last resort. Their lifeline.

You understand, don’t you? Near didn’t have to say it out loud.

Of course. “You want me to give one of these to him?” Matt asked, baffled by the request. Near was asking for more than a messenger. He was asking for a miracle. With a sigh, Matt popped open the SIM holders for each of the mobile phones and pulled the cards out. With ginger movements, he tucked the two of them into one pocket, and the phones in the other.

Near only watched from the corner of his eye as he started leaning over to pull a toy robot out from under his bed. “Do you think that’s necessary?”

They both knew the answer. Mello had his mind made up, and Matt knew better than to try and make him budge. “What’s with the second one?” he asked, pulling one of the phones back out to toss it back and forth from one hand to the other. It wasn’t heavy, but it sat with the slightest amount of weight when it landed flat against his palms.

“He’s dragging you along, isn’t he?”

“Hasn’t said anything to me about it,” Matt lied. “And I wouldn’t say dragging.” He, too, had already made his mind up.

Things were getting boring around here, anyway. He had his own interests, and the confinements of the orphanage were beginning to smother him. Helped that Mello always liked to keep things interesting. Interesting enough that it was best for someone to keep an eye on him.

Matt knew he wouldn’t listen. Maybe it was for his own peace of mind. But was Matt ever any good at listening either?

“You know to destroy those after you use them?” How hard would it be to smash something so small to bits? 

“N, the fuck do I look like?”

That brought a smile crawling over Near’s lips for the briefest instant. They had two chances. Two strikes. After that, they were on their own. Sure, he trusted Mello. Matt also trusted that the best decision was to keep the cards tucked away. Just in case. Trusted Mello’s gut, but didn’t always trust it over his own.

“Roger’s going to give you money.”

“Cash?”

“If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is.”

“I’m willing to work with him,” Near offered, one final time.

He was wasting his breath.

“It’s Mello.” Was all Matt had to say. “He’s a pain in the ass.” Whatever. Kept things interesting. And hadn’t Matt wanted to see the world before he died? Now, with Kira passing his excuse for divine judgment at the drop of a hat, now was as good a time as ever.

The children at Wammy’s House stood at death’s door until this case came to an end. One by one, they would fall like domino’s after L’s defeat. The whole world would shatter, until there was nothing else to be destroyed. Humans, Matt thought, would kill each other until there were only a handful left. And even then, they wouldn’t cease.

Kira, in his hands, had the means to make it so.

Matt didn’t sit too well with the idea of waiting for his demise in the confines of a cage of an orphanage. If he was going to go early, might as well make it a good enough time.

There was no goodbye. Just an awkward high five against Near’s limp hand, and a stop at Roger’s office for what Matt would come to call “the stipend.”

Mello, in the other room, already had his bag packed.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG171!

- … Yeah, reasoning that “The Gardener” would be the worst title for a Flesh episode was a correct hunch, and the induced feeling was indeed “Ewwwwwwwwwww”.

Amazing contrast between the locus amoenus, with wind (that we could occasionally hear through the windchime), plants, maybe a stream gurgling (I think I heard some water?), Jared’s wheelbarrow, birds chirping (regarding the species, Alex said they were “Meat Birds”.)… and the whimpers, moans and sobs of pain, plus that terrifying scream followed by weeping when Jared took care of the “pruning”. Jonny, why.

- We’ve had a few unique “statement” formats in the journey: The Stranger’s poem (MAG165), The End’s coroner report (MAG168), and now The Flesh’s… botanical textbook? I felt like this one was a bit different in the way Jared really didn’t seem to exert much control over the domain (since he asked Jon to “hear about [his] garden”), unlike, for example, Oliver, who had given his own observations; and because… the victims felt so far away from a direct narration? There were layers upon layers narratively removing us from them (… although we could physically hear their moans of pain, directly in front of us): Jon giving the domain’s statement, and the domain explaining how to handle these people. The only direct glimpse of them was the small section towards the end of each case. Jared mentioned that the current rule seemed to be “just people using each other up”, which Jon repeated when proceeding with the smiting, and it really found an echo in the way the statements have felt less… subjective, and instead removed and distant? Not really allowing people’s voices to be heard, except for a brief moment? I wonder if it was a Flesh-thing, or if it’s installing something as they get closer to the Panopticon – the principle of this episode felt so Beholding, observing from afar things that were happening right in front of us…

- The domain’s statement was extremely organised every time:

* The genus and species for the plant-people (the root of their fear in Latin-ish and their own name), followed by the cultivated variety (the exterior result). It was incredibly nasty since in the nomenclature, the “species” of plants… doesn’t take an uppercase. And here it was people’s name, as if they were reduced to simple objects and common nouns.

* The way to prepare the living conditions: soil, temperature, light.

* The way to ensure growth and the necessary regular “care”.

* People’s inner experience and feelings in the state they’re in.

* The observed result, advertisement-like.

… It took me a while, and I’m really not sure about it, but I heard/understood:

* “Cultivation notes for [Fortisium] reese, commonly known as the ‘Gristlebloom Orchid’”: with the mention of “aggressive dehydration” and “they must always and forever be more”, toxic culture about the standards regarding muscle mass, with extreme and aggressive body-building. * “Cultivation notes for Gracilium patricia, commonly known as the ‘Bone Rose’”: toxic culture about thinness. * “Cultivation notes for [Sicarium] leopold, commonly known as the ‘Cutaway Tulip’”: toxic culture regarding plastic surgery, especially to remove traces of ageing. * “Cultivation notes for Supremium maeve, commonly known as the ‘Lily of the Damned’”: that one was a bit trickier, and seemed to be a mix of the pain coming from disability, and the obsession of a separation between body and soul?

I’m not sure about the names (my Latin is old, rusty, unreliable), but as far as I can tell through digging a bit, the roots would make sense for each: “fortis” (strong), “gracilis” (thin, tight, skinny, lean), “sicarius” (murderer) or “sica” (dagger), “superus” (above, higher; “supremus honor”, the superlative, referring to the last honours given to the deceased). … Except the declensions don’t work. “Fortisium” isn’t a form that can exist at all, as far as I can tell, same for “supremium”.

But you know what all of these have in common?

Latin words with –(i)um just slapped on to the end (regardless of whether that makes any grammatical sense).

- So. I need to make a whole separate Point about it, because if I’m right, it’s absolutely hilarious: The Eye, and Jonathan “Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he ‘speaks Latin’ then he might be talking nonsense again” Sims, might not know shit about Latin either.

(I’m not shaming anyone for not knowing anything about Latin, I’m not super confident about what I’m saying here either (it’s old stuff and I was very privileged to study it a bit!): but I’m shaming Jon HARD for complaining about Martin’s lack of knowledge of it… if it turns out that he, too, was absolutely shit at it. JON.)

- I’m not sure, but I feel like Jon’s tone has been getting more and more gleeful when telling the “statement” recently? It was a bit more pitying/sympathetic at the beginning of the journey, while there has been a form of… ravishment and tender, carnivorous pride? with The Desolation and now The Flesh. So, uhoh. Is Jon getting desensitised again along the journey, as he re-experiences the Fears…?

- The idea of Martin meeting Jared had been thrown around for fun and almost like a joke (Alex voicing two characters in the same room, interacting with each other), I’m so glad it happened! I still can’t understand 95% of what Jared is saying, even without the Distortion’s static! Yoohoo!

And the tiny thing I like about Jared is how… contrarily to Jonah’s complaints (MAG160: “I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital” – Jonah, it wasn’t because Jared was an “idiot”, it’s because YOU messed up that one), Jared is a quick-thinker, very fast at understanding the situation, very straightforwardly logical when it comes to Jon seeking him out?

(MAG131) JARED: … What do you want? ARCHIVIST: I, uh… I want a favour. JARED: For letting me out? ARCHIVIST: Yes. JARED: Alright. ARCHIVIST: Oh. O–okay. D–do you need to know… wh–what it is? JARED: Not much you could want, comin’ to me. Put summat in. Take summat out. Which is it? ARCHIVIST: Take something out. A bone. A–a rib, probably. So–something I won’t miss.

(MAG171) ARCHIVIST: You know why I’m here? [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] JARED: I can guess. Took a bit to figure out which rib was aching. But when I did… well. Obvious, really. [OMINOUS SHIFTING, CRACKING AND POPPING] Why shouldn’t you want it back? ARCHIVIST: [SHARP EXHALE] It’s too late for that now…! JARED: Not really, but… whatever. […] So, is there any way this doesn’t end in me dead? I’m guessing that’s on the docket if you’re here. Unless you’re just here to smell the flowers.

Jared had assumed Jon was here for the rib, and it would have been a logical thought (Jon had the power to get back what was his)… and Jared immediately corrected his assumption when Jon explained that it wasn’t the case, leading to Jared deducing that Jon was just here to kill him. I’m not sure many avatars would have been able to understand this that quickly.

- Fun thing about Jared’s gym is that both Martin and Jon knew about it separately: Martin read the statements about “J” (MAG090), and Jon had been directly told about it by Jared in MAG131:

(MAG090, Ross Davenport) “It was text only, and read, ‘Your perfect body is here. Become all you can be.’ […] The man who stood there was, without a doubt, the biggest guy I had ever seen, and bear in mind I spend my time hanging out with bodybuilders. He had to hunch down to fit through the doorway, and was almost twice as wide as I was. Most of his body was covered in a loose tracksuit, and I could see clear stitch marks where it had been enlarged for him. Embroidered onto the chest was the letter ‘J’. […] J was there, standing his full height. A distended, jagged body bared in all its twisted grandeur, and he shook his head in frustration. He said something, I think, but I couldn’t make it out. It might have been ‘too soon’. I try to remember some of them in detail, the confusion of limbs and joints and muscles, but all I can remember is the happy, joyful way they called to me. Told me that the pain was worth it. It makes me sick that a small, sharp part of me wishes I’d stayed to listen.”

(MAG131) JARED: Some of my mates, the ones I helped find their proper bodies, they listened, and went to feed the hunger. Not me though. I never was that ambitious.

(MAG171) JARED: So, is there any way this doesn’t end in me dead? I’m guessing that’s on the docket if you’re here. Unless you’re just here to smell the flowers. [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] ARCHIVIST: … No. I can’t let you carry on like this. What happened, Jared? I thought you only worked on the willing. JARED: … What? Says who? Oooh, the gym! [THROATY LAUGH] I mean, yeah. They wanted to change, but they were still scared. First at what I’d do to them, then at what would happen if the world couldn’t handle their beautiful new bodies. Not like I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart. [SNORT] Hearts.

BUT WOW JON, WHY THAT ASSUMPTION?? Jon knew perfectly well already that Jared… hadn’t limited himself to the gym, that he had been, and still was, an Avatar Of Many Talents.

(MAG017) ARCHIVIST: I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006. He was found lying dead in the middle of the road on the night of April 17th. Despite the fact that there were no crushing or trauma marks on the body, the inquest ruled it a hit-and-run car accident due to the mangled position in which he was found. It was a closed casket funeral.

(MAG049, Gregory Pryor) “Hector looked at the paper, typed something into his phone and threw it away as he walked off. It was an address in Stockwell, and an instruction: ‘Ask for Jared.’ […] He pulled back the tarpaulin covering Hector’s body and cracked his knuckles. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sound of him doing that. Then… he reached into Hector. No cutting, no saws, he just… reached in. And I realised why the room was soundproofed. Because it turned out Hector wasn’t dead. And it was going to be a while before Jared got around to his lungs or throat. […] There is… no way to describe what it feels like, to have bone pulled out of you through your unbroken skin. […] I slammed the door shut and ran into the street, through the people still wandering Stockwell in the evening, and away. My now empty left arm hanging limply by my side. I didn’t stop running for a very long time. […] The doctors amputated the arm in the end, and I’m getting used to the prosthetic. But I can still feel it sometimes, like it’s still there. I know it’s just phantom limb syndrome but… sometimes I swear it feels like my bone’s still out there, twisting in someone else’s arm…” ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume this butcher to be Jared Hopworth. It seems that if Mr Adekoya’s account from statement #9991006 is accurate, then Hopworth has found new ways to profit from his abilities in the eight years since his acquisition of The Boneturner’s Tale.

(MAG131) JARED: I wandered around for a bit. Worked a lotta jobs where it didn’t matter what you looked like. There’s always a spot for someone who can get rid of people. You must have heard about me. I left plenty of people scared and crying, itching to tell someone what happened to ‘em. Some of them must have made it to you. […] The letters started comin’ in about two years ago. Good white paper, large print. Nice and simple. Dunno who sent them; they were never signed, and I dunno how they kept finding me. There was never much in them; normally just a name, and a place, or a time. I ignored the first couple, but they kept coming, and eventually I got curious. So, I followed the instructions in one of ‘em. I found Regan Hasnain of 70 Clairmont Gardens, and that got rid of most of my doubts. I don’t blame people for thinking that all bones are the same, most people don’t have much experience – but it’s not true. There are good bones, and there are bad bones, and Regan Hasnain had some very good bones in her. They were solid, healthy, and they jumped at my touch. I didn’t doubt the letters again. They came pretty regular after that. And they always led to summat good. Quality bones, a new mate, or some unlucky fool who wouldn’t look at me for the fear. It got so I trusted them.

He’s been a butcher (with a bit of “artisty” vibe already, in the way he was twisting bones), he’s been a coach/gym adviser, he’s been an assassin-for-hire, and now a gardener. Terrible man, and wow, the range, the flexibility. So what the heck, Jon. Why the focus on the “willing”, you knew it wasn’t true – or at least, not all of it.

… Was it once again a case of Jon trying to hope that there were a few mostly harmless avatars? A bit like how he behaved towards Oliver? Hence the focus on the “willing”?

(MAG171) ARCHIVIST: … No. I can’t let you carry on like this. What happened, Jared? I thought you only worked on the willing. JARED: … What? Says who? […] Anyway: willing, unwilling; don’t work like that anymore, does it? You made sure of that. MARTIN: That’s… not fair. JARED: And what? MARTIN: I… JARED: [CRACK] MARTIN: I, uh… JARED: So what? Don’t really matter now, does it? ARCHIVIST: … No. [INHALE] No, it doesn’t.

After all, if avatars could hypothetically survive without causing much pain to “unwilling” people, it would mean that Jon might be able to sustain himself in another way than by terrorising “unwilling” people. It just feels a bit surprising, indeed, that it would still be a concern of Jon’s (a preoccupation that followed him for the entirety of season 4)… given that they’re in the apocalypse right now. But there is also still the underlying question of what would happen to people, and to Jon himself, if the apocalypse was to be undone and, even regardless of this, the fact that Jon seems to be evaluating which avatars “deserve” to get smote.

I mostly wonder: if they hadn’t walked on Jared causing even more pain to people, and if Jared had been more passive in the garden, would Jon have spared him? Jon presented it as his reason for smiting him, but I’m… really not sure it was his actual one…

(- Jared’s jokes… “Not like I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart. [SNORT] Hearts.”…

We knew he canonically had Many, Melanie had mentioned it:

(MAG131) MELANIE: I stabbed him in three different hearts. Didn’t work. If you want to go hunting for a fourth, knock yourself out.

But that joke… Jared, please.)

- I know there were many screams about homophobic Jared in the fandom, but personally:

(MAG171) JARED: Oh! And who’s this? Your boyfriend? MARTIN: Hum– ARCHIVIST: Yes. Actually. JARED: Oh. [A BIRD’S CHIRP FALLS FLAT] Mm. … So, is there any way this doesn’t end in me dead?

… I heard it as either “Jared would have said that anyway if one of them had been a woman” and/or Jared was Shooting His Shot with Martin.

- Jon&Martin Are Together, season 5 edition:

(MAG161) ARCHIVIST: No, it’s– [SIGH] I love you, I just… I need more time.

(MAG162) ARCHIVIST: “The screams may linger on the distant breeze, and your eye may wander beyond the curtains from time to time, but you and the one you love are, it seems… safe. […] There within the thing that pretends to be a cabin is the one you love. […] The one you love is always near, so close that refuge sometimes feels a prison.

(MAG164) ARCHIVIST: What do you want. HELEN: To say hello! And check up on the happy couple~ [LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] HELEN: I always knew you crazy kids would make it work!

(MAG167) MARTIN: Ssso. If you say Gertrude wouldn’t have been able to go on without a reason… ARCHIVIST: Yes, Martin, you are my reason. MARTIN: Just wanted to make you say it…!

(MAG170) MARTIN: I’m… I’m in love, eh! I am in love, and I will not forget that, I will – not – forget. I am Martin Black–

(MAG171) JARED: Not really, but… whatever. … Oh! And who’s this? Your boyfriend? MARTIN: Hum– ARCHIVIST: Yes. Actually.

(+ Technically, Jude’s “valet”: it was derogatory, but at the same time… her own frame of reference was her devotion for Agnes as a god/woman, so.)

- Martin, polite boy who says “Please” and manages to get what he wanted:

(MAG171) JARED: Right. So are we doing this or what? I reckon I can get a few good hits in before I go down. Give you a little something to remember me by. ARCHIVIST: … No you won’t. JARED: [HUFF] No. Maybe not. But you’ve gotta try, haven’t you? MARTIN: Please don’t. JARED: What? MARTIN: You’ve already made your mark. [SILENCE] [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] JARED: [THROATY LAUGH] Fine. Consider it a favour.

(Also, really laughing that Martin is canonically “little”. At least to Jared (“Don’t fret yourself, little man.”), which, uh, might not actually say much.)

- :D The return of Jon reminding Martin to not touch dangerous stuff!

(MAG113) MARTIN: Ooh! Ooh! There’s a book in this one. ARCHIVIST: [HASTILY] Don’t… touch it! MARTIN: Ooh… OH! Right. Yes. ARCHIVIST: Let’s… not touch any books we don’t know. MARTIN: Right. ARCHIVIST: Step back.

(MAG165) ARCHIVIST: Either way, best not to actually climb onto the thing, if we could help it. MARTIN: Fine – by – me, eh! Never really liked merry-go-rounds anyway.

(MAG171) ARCHIVIST: Don’t – touch – anything. MARTIN: I wasn’t planning to, uh…! Are they still… alive?

Martin…

- Martin stayed for the “statement”! They learned from MAG170, to prevent him from getting lost again, uh…

- Technically, we didn’t “learn” anything new regarding Jon-in-the-new-world: he admitted since the season 5 trailer that to some part of him, the horror felt “right”. He mentioned that “guilt” was protecting him from embracing the things he was made to experience. We know he consumes fears, is fed by it. There have been multiple jabs from avatars about how Jon is tailored for this world because of his connection to The Eye and/or his role as “Archivist”(/Archive) and/or as the tool used to bring the apocalypse, leading him to be at his peak in the current events – in control, above all other avatars, all-knowing:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here – in the world that we have made.”

(Season 5 trailer) MARTIN: Are you still… [SIGH] “feeling it”? Seeing everything? ARCHIVIST: Yes, I, I’m trying not to, but… all of the fear, th–the anguish, i–it just… [INHALE] It keeps coming at me in waves, rolling over me, filling my head with such… awful sights. MARTIN: … I’m sorry. That sounds… [SMALL EXHALE] That sounds horrible. ARCHIVIST: … I wish it was, Martin. I really wish it was. … But it feels… right. [MIRTHLESS HUFF]

(MAG161) ARCHIVIST: … Besides… G… [SHAKY EXHALE] Grief… is healthy. I–if nothing else, it pushes away the other feelings that that… thing wants me to experience.

(MAG163) MARTIN: … How do you know all this stuff? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: Not sure…! I just do.

(MAG164) MARTIN: A–alright, but… but how do you know that– ARCHIVIST: I just do. I just know it. [SILENCE] [SHUFFLING] MARTIN: You’ve been knowing a lot lately. ARCHIVIST: … Yes. MARTIN: A lot more than you used to. ARCHIVIST: Y… [SIGH] Yeah. And it, it feels more… deliberate. L–like I have more control now. MARTIN: Okay. So… how much can you see? What else do you know? ARCHIVIST: Uh… Maybe everything…! MARTIN: What’d you mean, “everything”? ARCHIVIST: I don’t… Ask me a question. O–one I can’t… possibly know already. […] HELEN: Hello, Jon! [FOOTSTEPS] [THE DOOR CREAKS CLOSE] ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] How did you find us? HELEN: Oh! I thought you’d know everything by this point. […] And please: my name is “Helen”. ARCHIVIST: Like you said, I can know everything now. Including how much of a lie that really is. HELEN: Don’t mistake “complication” for “falsehood”, dear Archivist.

(MAG165) MARTIN: But. You said we needed to go through these places. … Is that even going to work here? ARCHIVIST: Uh… [EXHALE] We need to go through them… metaphorically. MARTIN: Mm… ! ARCHIVIST: Psychologically, we need to… “experience” them.

(MAG166) HELEN: We’re all here, Martin. The Stranger; The Buried; The Desolation; all of us. But The Eye still rules. All this fear is being performed for its benefit. And so, there are now exactly two roles available in this new world of ours: the watcher, and the watched. Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid. And Jon, well… he is part of The Eye; a very important part. And he’s able to, shall we say… shift its focus. Turn the one into the other. And for those of us whose very existence relies on being feared, well… To be turned into a victim destroys us utterly. And very, very painfully.

(MAG168, Oliver Banks) ARCHIVIST: “This report is being sent to: [STATIC FADES] The Great Eye, that watches all who linger in terror, and gorges itself on the sufferings of those under its unrelenting, stuporous gaze! And its Archive, which draws knowledge of this suffering unto itself.”

(MAG169) JUDE: You’re not scared, though, are you, Archivist? ARCHIVIST: … I can feel the pain of every person you have trapped here. My own isn’t all that different. JUDE: Yeah, but you like seeing their pain, don’t you? Their fear? ARCHIVIST: … Yes. JUDE: You and that stupid Eye, god, you make me sick! Lording it over everybody like you own the place? You’re just leeches, voyeurs, parasites on the real monsters. […] Oooh, I see! I get it. You finally get a sniff of power, and the first thing you do is try to settle some old scores. MARTIN: [LOUDER COUGHS] JUDE: Play the big man, get off on good old-fashioned petty revenge~! […] I’m happy in this world. I belong here. And so do you. MARTIN: [COUGHS] [STATIC RISING: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] JUDE: Uh! Listen… Listen… [BREATHLESS CHUCKLING] You’re enjoying this, right? ‘Course you are! You want to use those powers of yours to hurt people, you want to murder everybody who can’t fight back at you now? I can help you…! [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] MARTIN: Just DIE already!! JUDE: You’re… not… better… than… me! [SCREAMS]

(MAG171) ARCHIVIST: It takes a skilled gardener to get them to grow like this. The curling, cascading intricacies of collagen and marrow… it takes devotion. MARTIN: Jon. [FOOTSTEPS STOP] [WHIMPERS IN THE BACKGROUND] ARCHIVIST: … S–sorry. MARTIN: You sound like you think they’re beautiful. [FOOTSTEPS RESUME] ARCHIVIST: Don’t you? [SILENCE] […] JARED: Anyway: willing, unwilling; don’t work like that anymore, does it? You made sure of that. MARTIN: That’s… not fair. JARED: And what? MARTIN: I… JARED: [CRACK] MARTIN: I, uh… JARED: So what? Don’t really matter now, does it? ARCHIVIST: … No. [INHALE] No, it doesn’t. […] JARED: [LONG MEATY INHALE, EXHALE] Cheers for that! ARCHIVIST: … Don’t. MARTIN: Jon, are you… alright? ARCHIVIST: Yeah, hum… Sorry. MARTIN: No, it, it’s alright. JARED: Is it really that bad? Seeing what I’ve done here? Or… uh! Is it maybe that deep down, you think it’s as beautiful as I do? ARCHIVIST: Shut up! [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] JARED: It’s a shame…! Who’s gonna look after the garden when I’m gone? There are a few real pretty ones. Who knows: maybe they’ll uproot and start landscaping themselves…! That’d be nice. Then again, maybe it’ll just grow wild. ARCHIVIST: I don’t care. JARED: … No. You don’t, do you? ARCHIVIST: … I can’t… There’s too many. I can’t save everyone. [EXHALE] I c–, I can’t save anyone.

Jon judging that something terrifying was “beautiful” is not new: he described the Dark Sun that way… but then he was at his peak of Beholding!avatar-casually-traumatising-innocents. Right now, I’m concerned about the mix of little slips (Jon implying the garden was “beautiful” and describing it with ravishment, almost falling into statement-mode even though there was no static yet), Jon’s reluctance to try and intervene from the start, and the fact he sounds like he’s… lost hope of doing anything worthwhile or good for the situation. He was defiant and a bit hopeful back when they left the cabin (“Gertrude didn’t think so. […] But she’s dead. Let’s find out for ourselves.”) and that part seems to be eroding. We know that the statements seem to be affecting him (Martin noticed something afterwards, and was concerned again after the smiting) but I’m fearing that Jon is currently losing himself a bit, at least in… forgetting to reject the things that used to disgust him. Re-traumatisation, re-desensibilisation as they’re going through all the domains? If it’s the case, in what state will Jon reach the Panopticon…

- I’m a bit squinting at Jon’s wording here:

(MAG171) JARED: It’s a shame…! Who’s gonna look after the garden when I’m gone? There are a few real pretty ones. Who knows: maybe they’ll uproot and start landscaping themselves…! That’d be nice. Then again, maybe it’ll just grow wild. ARCHIVIST: I don’t care. JARED: … No. You don’t, do you? ARCHIVIST: … I can’t… There’s too many. I can’t save everyone. [EXHALE] I c–, I can’t save anyone. JARED: If you say so. … So.

Because it seems to me that Jon was implying that he could, in theory, save people from the domains, on a case-by-case basis? He didn’t say it was impossible per se: he first said there were “too many”, and that he couldn’t save “everyone”, before concluding that he couldn’t save “anyone”. But he managed with Martin! (I don’t think that it could work in practice: the world is now ruled by the Fears, so “freeing” someone from a Fear would likely just lead to them getting caught by another domain, or dying/disappearing/collapsing because they can’t sustain themself, etc. But, in theory, it felt like Jon was admitting that he might have the power to save punctual people with his powers?)

Jon has pointed out to Martin, multiples times, that they were in-between the domains and that it wasn’t worth it to try and interact with people. Although he has been interacting with avatars, Jon has been very reluctant to even try to do this with regular people, or even to know what was happening to them once they had left the domains:

(MAG163) ARCHIVIST: I–ignore them, they’re not… Just ignore them. MARTIN: … They’re not… real? [VOICES SHOUTING IN THE DISTANCE] ARCHIVIST: [MIRTHLESS CHUCKLING] No…! They’re real; they were… normal people before the– … Before me. But now they’re here, meat for the grinder. I just mean there’s no point… talking to them. MARTIN: Don’t be a prick, Jon. Hey! I’m, I’m sorry about him. He’s–he’s going through a lot – well… we all are, I suppose, but well… “Hi”, I guess. [SILENCE] Hello? ARCHIVIST: They won’t hear you, Martin, they’re all… too busy waiting to die. […] MARTIN: What’re you doing here? [PLASTIC RATTLING] It’s dangerous. Could… get yourself blown up, like all these poor… [PLASTIC RATTLING] Who d’you think they were? Really don’t see why they can’t just… go round, picked a better place to… [STEPS THROUGH LIQUID] [SIGH] I guess there… aren’t really any “better” places anymore, are there? [STEPS THROUGH LIQUID] It’s all this. Or worse, or… or different.

(MAG164) ARCHIVIST: We’re fine. MARTIN: A–are we? I mean, that place is– … I don’t, I don’t feel fine, okay, and you were there a long time doing your… y–you–your guidebook, which, you know, I get it, but that place is… I–it’s–it’s infectious, and, I don’t– ARCHIVIST: We’re not infected, Martin, that place, it– … It isn’t for us. […] MARTIN: Are we safe, traveling like this? ARCHIVIST: Yes… Yes, sort of, we’re… I don’t know how to phrase it, we’re… something between a pilgrim and a moth. We can walk through these little worlds of terror, watching them; separate, and untouched. MARTIN: [NERVOUS CHUCKLING] That’s not as comforting as you might think. ARCHIVIST: I like it better than the alternative…!

(MAG165) MARTIN: What about the merry-go-round? With her gone, is it, is it still th– ARCHIVIST: I–I don’t know! MARTIN: [CHUCKLING] Yes you do! ARCHIVIST: I–I don’t… want to know, plea– We need to go. [BAG JOSTLING] Please.

(MAG169) MARTIN: Oh, it’s not just your revenge though, is it? Destroying her… it would help all those people in there, wouldn’t it? ARCHIVIST: … Maybe? It’s… [INHALE] Like I said, I can’t see the future. It wouldn’t free them, if that’s what you’re asking. “Free” doesn’t really exist in this place. MARTIN: Apart from us. ARCHIVIST: I suppose. I–in a sense, though… [CHUCKLING] how much of that is because we are trapped in our own quest to– MARTIN: Okay, let’s, let’s not dive into another… ontological debate right now, not here.

(MAG171) JARED: It’s a shame…! Who’s gonna look after the garden when I’m gone? There are a few real pretty ones. Who knows: maybe they’ll uproot and start landscaping themselves…! That’d be nice. Then again, maybe it’ll just grow wild. ARCHIVIST: I don’t care. JARED: … No. You don’t, do you? ARCHIVIST: … I can’t… There’s too many. I can’t save everyone. [EXHALE] I c–, I can’t save anyone. JARED: If you say so. … So. I guess that just leaves revenge, then, don’t it? Can’t say I blame you. That’s all life is, really, innit? Just people using each other up. ARCHIVIST: Spare me the crude philosophy. […] MARTIN: But all the people inside? ARCHIVIST: Killing Nolan wouldn’t have made it stop. It would just leave… unsupervised. MARTIN: Mm. [MOANS OF PAIN IN THE BACKGROUND] [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] MARTIN: Jon. We are… doing good, right? Making things better? ARCHIVIST: … I don’t know if that was… ever an option.

… Technically, Jon could have known already in MAG169 what happened to an “unsupervised” domain – since it had happened already with the Not!Them. Why the reluctance to know about that? (I’m mostly wondering if there is a non-negligible Beholding part of Jon just plain refusing to make Fearful Resources disappear, thus him not even trying to improve people’s situations overall… Smiting avatars is providing a new form of fear, of entertainment to The Eye: it’s a novelty, something unique, the Feared made Fearful! It seemed good, in theory, to erase avatars from existence, but in the end… it’s still feeding The Eye, since the apocalypse is still running.)

- >w< Sobbing a bit about that exchange:

(MAG171) MARTIN: Jon! ARCHIVIST: Mm? MARTIN: I need to ask you something. ARCHIVIST: Okay. MARTIN: I meant to ask. A–after the fire, actually? But, well… Then was the house and everything, and it just sort of– ARCHIVIST: What is it, Martin? MARTIN: … Why didn’t we go after the landlord guy, in the tenement? ARCHIVIST: Arthur Nolan? MARTIN: Yeah. He’s still there, right? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] After Jude, th–the fires, I… I didn’t want to put you through anymore. MARTIN: [EXASPERATED SIGH] Don’t do that. ARCHIVIST: What? MARTIN: Don’t use me as an excuse. ARCHIVIST: I, I’m not! I just… It didn’t seem worth it. I didn’t… hate him, like I hated her. He never hurt me. MARTIN: But all the people inside? ARCHIVIST: Killing Nolan wouldn’t have made it stop. It would just leave it… unsupervised. MARTIN: Mm.

… since it could be two different things, although not contradictory. It could stem from Martin’s own issues regarding his self-worth (refusing to think that Jon could try to accommodate Martin out of love/worry/care for him), and/or… Martin being spot-on about Jon’s tendency to hide himself, hide his actual motivations and feelings behind “more acceptable” pretences.

Jon lies and Jon hides, including to and from himself. That’s a thing he’s been shown to do when afraid and/or ashamed. He spent a good part of season 4 trying to convince himself that The Web or Beholding were manipulating him into attacking innocents, without leaving him any choice – and he still displayed the choices of going out for walks, going out for a coffee, not warning anyone that it was happening behind their backs. It could be the same thing: Jon trying to rationalise his own actions, because he’s pushed by a new influence, that he doesn’t fully acknowledge. Martin is suspicious, at least, so I really hope that it will lead to him acting on it – re-evaluating the “use” of the smiting plan, which is now officially only for “revenge” and feels hollower and hollower every time? Martin pushed him in that direction, so whether Jon is simply following Martin’s moral stance (because he doesn’t trust his own) or actually compelled by Beholding or something, it clearly feels like a mistake by now. Martin, you’re his anchor, say something! ;w;

(At the very least, I don’t think they’ll be as straightforward with Jonah: if the smiting feels unsatisfying now, there is no way it would feel fulfilling with him at the Panopticon.)

- Compilation of Jon’s stance about the different avatars since the apocalypse, and how the smiting proceeded:

(MAG162) MARTIN: Look, Jon, I… I, I know it hurts, but you’ve just got to… ARCHIVIST: No, no, lo–look… I, I–I was listening, and I–I was filled with this… hatred. This anger; I–I wanted to leave, and hunt down Elias, a–and…! MARTIN: W–wow, okay…

(MAG164) HELEN: I’m afraid the Archivist is too powerful now. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] HELEN: If he tried to travel through my corridors, it would not go well, for any of us. ARCHIVIST: But mainly for you. HELEN: Ouuh! [CHUCKLE] Is that a threat? ARCHIVIST: No. HELEN: Mm! Pity.

(MAG165) ARCHIVIST: … What did you say? [STATIC RISING: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] NOT!SASHA: [SHAKY BREATHES] I’m–I’m sorry… MARTIN: Jon? ARCHIVIST: You were wrong, you know. NOT!SASHA: [GASPS] [STATIC INCREASES] ARCHIVIST: There is more suffering than you can ever experience, so much more. The horror of your victims… NOT!SASHA: [CRIES OF PAIN] ARCHIVIST: Their constant, senseless agony… NOT!SASHA: [CRIES OF PAIN] [STATIC INCREASES] ARCHIVIST: Feel it now. Understand it. You have drawn out so much despair, and now finally, it’s your turn. [STATIC INCREASES] [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing! [STATIC INCREASES, WITH MORE PRESSURE] NOT!SASHA: No! No… Please, no…! [DIGITAL BURSTING, RIPPING SOUNDS] NOT!SASHA: [FADING] No…! [STATIC DECREASES AND FADES] ARCHIVIST: [PANTS] MARTIN: … Whoa–oh–oh! ARCHIVIST: I, uh… MARTIN: What was that?!

(MAG168) MARTIN: So, you… gonna smite him, then? ARCHIVIST: … Hum… MARTIN: Jon? … Jon, I said: are you going to sm– ARCHIVIST: I heard you the first time. MARTIN: And? ARCHIVIST: I… I don’t know…! MARTIN: W-Why not? Can’t you just do what you did what that “Sasha-thing”, make The Eye see him and all that? ARCHIVIST: I–I could, I think. MARTIN: … Cool, so what’s the problem then? Take another monster off the hit list, job done. ARCHIVIST: I–it’s not… that simple? […] I just, I don’t think he’s… [SIGH] I don’t know, I don’t think he’s evil. [CREAKING SOUND] MARTIN: Oh, yeah, sure, he’s probably a really kind, benevolent ruler of a hellish fear prison…! ARCHIVIST: It’s just… He helped me. Wh–when I was… He woke me up. […] Who knows – maybe he’ll try to stop us getting through the roots, and I’ll have to! MARTIN: Mm. ARCHIVIST: But I’m not going to… seek him out. At the very least, he’s earned not having me hunt him down. MARTIN: Fine. I suppose that’s… reasonable. ARCHIVIST: Now, if you’re quite done inciting me to murder? […] I… I feel… [FOOTSTEPS] No. I don’t want to destroy Oliver Banks. It wouldn’t do any good. I know that, and he never asked for this any more than I did. I feel badly for those that exist in his domain, o–of course, I do, but… At least, their suffering will be over, eventually. I can’t destroy everyone I cross paths with, it… [SIGH] No. If Oliver will not seek me out, then… I will leave him be. [TINY CHUCKLES] The avatar of Death… shall live. Martin’s going to be thrilled…!

(MAG169) MARTIN: … Right. [DISTANT SOUND OF SOMETHING COLLAPSING] Right… I just assumed this would be… Who was that landlord guy? ARCHIVIST: Arthur Nolan. He’s here, he has a… part of it, but it’s… huge. […] I… Oh, right. I–I want revenge on Jude Perry. I want to… “smite” her. Make her feel what… [SIGH] what all her victims have felt. But I’m not willing to force you to suffer for it. […] [STATIC RISES] ARCHIVIST: I’d have thought that was a mindset you would appreciate. [STATIC INCREASES] Now, feel it! All the terror and pain you’ve inflicted. JUDE: Oh, piss off– [PAINED GASP] … [STRAINED] Look, look. Wait, right? I’m sorry, okay? I… shouldn’t have burned your hand. […] [STATIC RISING: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] Uh! Listen… Listen… [BREATHLESS CHUCKLING] You’re enjoying this, right? ‘Course you are! You want to use those powers of yours to hurt people, you want to murder everybody who can’t fight back at you now? I can help you…! [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] MARTIN: Just DIE already!! JUDE: You’re… not… better… than… me! [SCREAMS] [DIGITAL BURSTING, RIPPING SOUNDS] [STATIC DECREASES AND FADES] MARTIN: [COUGH] [PANTING] Is it…? ARCHIVIST: It’s over. … She’s gone.

(MAG171) [STATIC RISES] JARED: Grow well, my darlings. Grow well. [STATIC INCREASES: LOW AND SPIRALLING, PRESSURING] ARCHIVIST: Feel it. JARED: [MEATY HISS] ARCHIVIST: Feel all the terror and despair as your garden grows. Let it flow through you, and blossom! [MEATY SOUNDS] JARED: [GROANS] ARCHIVIST: Just people, using each other up! [DIGITAL GLITCHING SOUNDS] Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this thing and drink – your – fill! JARED: [GROANS] [MEATY SOUNDS] [DIGITAL BURSTING, RIPPING SOUNDS] [STATIC DECREASES AND FADES] [WINDCHIME IN THE BACKGROUND] ARCHIVIST: [GASPS AND PANTS] MARTIN: [SOFTLY] … Jon? ARCHIVIST: I’m here. MARTIN: Are you okay? [MOAN OF PAIN IN THE BACKGROUND] ARCHIVIST: I’m… great. You? […] MARTIN: I meant to ask. A–after the fire, actually? But, well… Then was the house and everything, and it just sort of– ARCHIVIST: What is it, Martin? MARTIN: … Why didn’t we go after the landlord guy, in the tenement? ARCHIVIST: Arthur Nolan? MARTIN: Yeah. He’s still there, right? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] After Jude, th–the fires, I… I didn’t want to put you through anymore. […] I just… It didn’t seem worth it. I didn’t… hate him, like I hated her. He never hurt me. MARTIN: But all the people inside? ARCHIVIST: Killing Nolan wouldn’t have made it stop. It would just leave… unsupervised. MARTIN: Mm.

* Jon invoked the “Ceaseless Watcher” both with the Not!Them and Jared. It’s not absolutely unheard of, but he only called it that way once in season 4; usually, he goes more with “The Eye” or “(the) Beholding”. “Ceaseless Watcher” definitely feels more ceremonial and… reminiscent of Elias marvelling about Jon’s dreams in MAG120. So, really, when Jon does the smiting, it doesn’t feel like he’s doing it for himself – but mostly as a sacrifice to his patron? It felt even worst with Jared and Jon’s “drink – your – fill!” since… yeah, The Eye is feeding from the act, uh.

* ;; Reminder that The Eye wanted Jon to leave the cabin in MAG162 (“This place wishes to be our tomb. But The Eye does not wish that. No. [STATIC INCREASES] The Eye wishes instead that it be my chrysalis.”). Which means that Jon is supposed to be evolving… towards another state of being, once again, and something that would please The Eye.

* Jon mentioned “anger” and “hatred” about Jonah and Jude, and although understandable… it also doesn’t really feel fulfilling when there is only that. Hatred/Anger, turning into violence, smiting, and then that’s it. It doesn’t change or solve anything.

* It feels like an escalation: Jon spontaneously killed the Not!Them, went after Jude on purpose, and sought out Jared… who offered reparation. Who offered to give Jon’s rib back, and Jon discarded the idea right away:

(MAG171) JARED: I can guess. Took a bit to figure out which rib was aching. But when I did… well. Obvious, really. [OMINOUS SHIFTING, CRACKING AND POPPING] Why shouldn’t you want it back? ARCHIVIST: [SHARP EXHALE] It’s too late for that now…! JARED: Not really, but… whatever.

There is a huuuge contrast between what Jude and Jared had each done to Jon: Jude found him “annoying” so she hurt him, and told Jon that she still would have done it had she known it would help to bring this apocalypse. Jared… only removed Jon’s two ribs because Jon had asked him to (for his own benefit! To get an anchor to save Daisy, and to get Jared’s statement!). And Jared was still offering to give it back.

It’s not about the violence that is exerted on victims: Oliver was torturing Danika, Arthur Nolan (who is apparently definitely not dead, oh.) had been shown torturing and sacrificing innocent people in the past. It’s not about avatars who casually hurt Jon just because they could: Jared and Jon had made a deal, Jon had come to him for a service.

… But the thing that all three of the Not!Them, Jude and Jared share is that they all contributed to Jon’s marks. As following Jonah’s recap:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The discovery that one of The Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that “vague wrongness” you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark… it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct, and affecting, manner. Admittedly, given the advent of The Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered – but what’s the old saying about hindsight? […] Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr Crew – marking you for The Desolation, and The Vast. […] I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then… Oh! You should have seen my face, when you voluntarily went to him. I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.”

Arthur didn’t mark Jon. Oliver didn’t mark Jon either – Jon was marked by The End during his coma, Oliver only brought him back from it. The Distortion… marked Jon as “Michael” technically (though it’s still The Distortion as “Helen”). Jane Prentiss, Mike Crew and Peter Lukas are already dead. The Buried and The Dark marked Jon through the Coffin and the Dark Sun; The Web through the Mr. Spider book.

… Which leaves, for potential upcoming smiting targets:

* The Distortion, if “Helen” counts.

* … Jonah for Beholding, since he made Jon sign up to become The Archivist.

* … Melanie for The Slaughter (although she has shaken it off)

* ……………………………. Daisy for The Hunt.

If Jon is indeed going after avatars who marked him, that leaves the question of Jon’s degree of control over his own actions. Is he going after them consciously? Is he trying to “unmark” himself, to exercise some degree of control over his current state by getting his revenge over the avatars who made the apocalypse possible, regardless of their willingness for it? Is something else pushing him to do that, and he only rationalising his actions?

I’m super worried for Melanie and Daisy right now ;;

(And very interested for Jon’s reaction if they stumble on Simon. Jon didn’t want to meet him, Simon liked Martin a lot, Simon didn’t mark Jon and didn’t interact with him so far… So it could go in many ways.)

  No conviction regarding MAG172’s title, but I’m mostly thinking Vast, Simon in particular? It could work very well for Web, too, but I’m still expecting Web for last brefore the Panopticon (then again… I wasn’t expecting The Lonely so soon either and we’ve already checked off that one).

The second meaning could… refer to a certain item we’ve already heard of, and/or to Jon’s current streak of smiting combined with the way he’s (over)fed by this world, I guess? ;;

[scribbles97]

Left Behind -- Chapter 16

All of the fluff in this chapter... what could possibly go wrong with a Tracy family pizza night?

PART 1 /  Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20 / Chapter 21

Read on Ao3

It had been hours since Kyrano’s revelation, yet she still couldn’t bring herself to look away from the information in front of her. 

 Jeff could be alive. 

 Although she had called off the search and forced herself to come to terms that he was gone, part of her had never truly given up hope. 

 That was the reason she had kept John’s program on Thunderbird Five. No matter how much time may have passed she couldn’t simply let it all stop. It wasn’t like running the program that kept up the search cost anything more. The space station was still running its primary functions first and foremost. Looking for Jeff was simply a background task. 

A background task that may have been futile in its efforts. 

 Not even Thunderbird Five could reach that far out into space.

 Four years and they had absolutely no way of knowing. Their efforts could be too little too late at that point. 

 And how long would it take to build a new ship? One equally as capable of deep space exploration.

 Time was not a luxury she was willing to afford, despite Kyrano’s assurances that things would come together if she gave him time to make the arrangements needed. 

 If Jeff was still out there, there had to be a way to reach him. 

 Her grasp on computer engineering wasn’t strong, but she knew enough about the ships she had helped Jeff design to know that Thunderbird Five could only send signals of an interpretable quality so far into space. Messages from the Calypso took months to make it as far as earth, not that she was meant to be keeping an eye on it, but the ship was a part of Jeff’s legacy; she felt a duty to keep an eye on it and ensure the crew's safety. 

 She almost dropped her glass of wine as the thought hit her. Jolting upright in her desk chair she reached for her comm,

 “Hiram, are you available?”

 His reply was stunned but quick, “Y-y-es Mrs T-tracy?”

 “Can I speak to you in my office?” She asked, looking for schematics and old designs she knew she had saved just somewhere. 

 “Of c-c-course. I’ll be right d-d-down.”

 The flight plan had been published online as part of a PR push before the launch. The Calypso’s intended target coordinates available for everyone to see despite the warnings she had issued about Gaat. 

 Thank god they hadn’t listened to her.

 The predicted flight path of the Zero-X was next to join the screens before her and her heart lurched. Taking a breath, she pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. 

 Perspective Lucy, She told herself, put it in perspective.

 Pulling her hands away she looked at the two maps again and the numbers her computer had generated for her, the distance automatically calculated from one set of coordinates to the other. 

 Fifty Astronomical Units was a hell of a lot less than ten thousand. 

 “M-m-mrs Tracy?”

 Lucy looked up and smiled at the engineer peaking around the edge of her office door, waving for him to join her. 

 “Hiram,” She swallowed, “You remember the Calypso?”

 He nodded, “I still receive updates from B-b-braman.”

 “How long does it take those updates to reach us?” She asked, biting her lip once the question was out in the open.

 The man shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose as he tilted his head slightly, “W-w-well, it depends on the earth's orbit. N-n-normally between th-three and four months.”

 It felt like a huge time frame, three or four months of still not knowing, of just having to watch and wait would be torture. 

 At least it would mean knowing though. 

 It was a chance of finding out if Jeff was there. 

 “Oh.” Hiram stated, adjusting his glasses again as he peered at the holograms, “Of course. The Calypso is in the same area of deep space as we predict the Zero-X is.”

 Pursing her lips, Lucy nodded. She didn’t trust her voice in that moment, too fearful that the answer would be something she didn’t want to hear. 

 “Is there any way--” She started, throat catching before she could finish.

 “To get a s-s-signal out there?” He asked, eyes widening for a moment before he turned thoughtful at the problem he had been presented, “It would take an awful lot of p-p-processing power on Thunderbird Five’s part, I w-w-would imagine some reworking of the computers onboard would be r-r-required.”

 Something in her stomach flipped.

 “It’s a possibility though? We could cut the delay down to weeks instead of months?”

 “Oh yes!” Hiram nodded quickly, “Cutting the time down is simply a c-c-case of reworking the systems at both ends. I imagine B-b-braman could redirect the p-p-power on board the C-Calypso to strengthen its signals to us. Although…”

 She sat forward, not entirely understanding all the computer speak he was uttering under his breath as he tilted his head from side to side and rubbed his chin. 

 “What? Although what, Hiram?”

 Looking up to her again, he reached to the hologram, “If the C-c-calypso was, for ex-x-ample, half the distance between Earth and the Oort cloud, the time could be c-c-cut down s-s-significantly. You see, the ship would act as a r-relay and strengthen the s-s-signal before it sent it on further into the s-s-solar system.”

 “And the same vice-versa?” She guessed, “If someone could find a way to send signals back, the Calypso would strengthen them before sending them on to us?”

 “Yes, I would believe so.”

 Her mind was made up, “How? What do I need to do?”

 “It would t-t-take time,” Hiram bit his lip, glancing back to the holograms, “I would have to look into the specifications of both ships and--”

 “Do it,” She sniffed, “Hiram, please, if it means-- if there’s a chance-- I can’t tell anyone about the possibility of Jeff until we have some form of proof. If this means I can find that proof.”

 The man nodded once, smiling slightly as he did, “M-m-mister Tracy saved my life, if I c-can return the favour I won’t rest until it is done.”

 “You have access to whatever you need, just ask and I will personally see to it.”

 Hiram smiled slightly as he stepped back, “I g-g-guess you got me to s-s-stay on the island for a while after all.”

 She laughed softly, shaking her head at him, “If you’d be more comfortable at home…”

 “No, thank you,” He shook his head, “Here will d-d-do just fine.”

 ***

Scott slung his arm around her shoulders as he joined her in the hangar, waiting for Val to disembark from Thunderbird One with her extra special cargo. Lucy tried to ignore the reminder that she had to look up to him those days, that she had to look up at most of her boys now that they were all young men. 

 “So,” Scott started, “What’s the occasion?”

 Shaking her head, she smiled to herself, “No occasion.”

 He frowned at her, smiling as if he thought he was onto something that she knew he wasn’t. 

 “So what warrants using Thunderbird One to bring pizza over from the mainland?”

 The question had been one she had expected, so it was easy to turn to him with a smile, “All my boys are home, am I not allowed to spoil you all?”

 He hummed with a grin as he shook his head, “If you say so Mom.”

 She sighed as Thunderbird One rolled down to it’s cradle, “Alright, so I was hoping it might cheer Alan up after I knocked him back again yesterday.”

 Scott’s face twisted, the whole island had heard the argument between the youngest and his mother. Alan wanted to be seen as the same age as his older brothers, capable and mature enough to fly one of their ships despite still only being a teenager.

 The kid hadn’t exactly done much to prove that he was mature enough to be involved in International Rescue. 

 “You know he’s still sneaking into the training room and going on the simulators?” He murmured.

 “Who is?” Aunt Val asked as she stepped onto the gantry, warming bag in hand, the waft of steaming pizzas filling the room. 

 “Alan,” Mom shook her head, “Who else, Val?”

 Val shrugged, “Just checking, could have been Brains for all we knew now that he lives here.”

 “Really?” Scott asked looking between them, it was the first he had heard of the scientist staying on the island permanently.

 “Only whilst he completes some research and updates.” His mother cut in, “It’s not forever.”

 He knew better than to question further what the research and updates were, he would be told when he needed to know. 

 As for Alan.

 “So what are you going to do?” He queried, “I mean, Alan is leveled with Gordon’s scores for the Thunderbird Three sim. He’s beaten Virgil’s initial trial score too you know?”

 The raised eyebrows and folded arms told him, yes, Mom was fully aware of Alan’s scores on the sims. 

 “He’s still too young for the academy,” His aunt cut in before either said something to rile the other up, “Give it six months, he can apply for the program and from there he’ll be able to fly a Thunderbird once he’s suitably trained.”

 Scott sighed as they stepped into the elevator, shaking his head as the doors closed, “That’s going to be a long six months.”

 “The rest of you did it,” His Mom stated as she leant back against the wall, “He can too.”

 He agreed that it was only fair that the four of them all went through the same training before they went straight into working as IR operatives. They needed to know that each of them all had the same capabilities and knowledge. Having different skills and areas of interest was one thing, but being able to rely on one another to do whatever was asked of them was something that could only be achieved through training. He knew, he’d seen it first hand as first Virgil and then Gordon had joined him running ops, the basic knowledge was there but had needed putting into practice and it was only then that their capabilities had started to shine through. 

 Still, that didn’t mean that Alan would be any more willing to wait. 

 “Just make sure I’m not here when you tell him that,” Scott shook his head as the doors reopened and he stepped out into the lounge. 

 “Tell who-- is that pizza?” Gordon asked as he sat up from where he had been lounging, eyes widening at the sight of the warming bag.

 Scott had to laugh, nodding as Aunt Val set the bag down on the central table of the lounge.

 “Fresh from Gunero’s,” She smiled, “They were fresh out of fish food though, so nothing for our resident guppy!”

 “Hey!” Gordon laughed as he reached out for the boxes, “Former Olympian here! I’ll swim back over there and get a Hawaiian if I have to!”

 “Seeing as the sharks are still about in the cove, you’re still banned from going anywhere near the ocean at the moment.” Their mother stated, “I mean it Gordon.”

 “She does.” Kayo stated as she entered, “I spend half my day at the moment keeping an eye on where you are.”

 Gordon grinned, “And spend the other half eying up something you like, huh?”

 Had the comment been aimed at anyone else, Scott would have cuffed his little brother around the ear. The glare Kayo was throwing at the blond though spoke volumes, and he actually feared for his younger brother’s life. 

 “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Gordon.”

 Behind Scott, Aunt Val failed to hide her snort under a cough as she unboxed the pizzas. He smirked, looking to Gordon with raised eyebrows, daring him to say something more. 

 “Tan, don’t murder him before dinner please.” Mom sighed, nudging Gordon to get his legs off of the sofa and make room for the rest of them.

 “So where are my other darling siblings?” Gordon grinned, “Or aren’t they eating with us tonight?”

 “We’re here, don’t you dare start without us.” Virgil grumbled as he joined them with Alan and John following.

 “We wouldn’t dream of it,” Scott shook his head, reaching for the meat feast pizza on the far side of the table, “Was just figuring out whose was whose.”

 “Good hike?” Mom asked, holding out a box to Alan.

 “Saw the sea eagles nesting up on the peak,” John nodded, reaching around Kayo for the box she had just opened and taking the veggie pizza, “In a few months we might have chicks again.”

 “And we got a great view of One taking off and coming in,” Alan grinned, eyes landing on Mom, so clearly waiting for her reaction. 

 “Alan Bartlett I thought I told you--” Their Grandmother turned the look of hope to one of fear in an instant and Scott had to snort. Mom might have been the one in charge, but nobody argued with what Grandma said. 

 “Alright alright,” Alan whined, “No talk about training over dinner.”

 Scott shook his head as Aunt Val grinned at him, mouthing something about the money he owed her from their bet. Apparently his youngest brother wasn’t as subtle as Scott gave him credit for. 

 “I hope you got my order right Val,” His Uncle’s voice broke over the top of the chatter.

 Aunt Val didn’t even bother looking as she held up the box, “Texan spicy, no mushrooms, extra jalapeño’s, just like you always have.”

 He smiled and kissed her quickly on the cheek as he took the box, “Thank you darlin’.”

 Part of Scott wondered what outsiders thought of the relationship that wasn’t. His Aunt and Uncle, married but nothing like a couple except for very rare occasions. Mom had once explained it as a case of two people that still cared deeply for one another yet had fallen out of love. He wasn’t sure he quite understood how that could be possible, but had never felt right in asking more about it. 

 Sometimes, in their family, that was the best idea.

 He frowned as he looked around, “Where’s Brains and Kyrano?”

 Their mother groaned as she too realised they were missing, setting her box of chips down and standing, “Probably in the labs, I’ll go.”

 It surprised him that she volunteered, after running around for the rest of the family the whole day she usually sent someone else in her place to find any stray members for dinner. The rest of the family had quietened though, all munching away on the fresh treats none of them had realised they had missed quite so much. 

 Before he could say anything though she was gone. 

[simstationdance]

@jeebie-sims​ asked: for the headcanon meme: Daniel Pleasant, Johnny Smith, and Mortimer Goth

ok so i apparently had a lot to say about these three, especially johnny and mortimer because they are favorites of mine. i was also inspired by the pictures u put in your answers to the shipping asks, so i decided to pair a few pictures with my answers.

i would’ve answered this as a regular ask, but for some reason, applying a read more to an ask applies it to the ‘question’ part of the post and not the actual body of the post where it should be, and not actually truncating the post at all. i couldn’t fix it no matter what i tried and eventually i gave up. tumblr is a Functional Website.

answers under the cut because i’m a turbo nerd who wrote way too much. i hope you enjoy it nonetheless

(headcanon ask meme)

Daniel Pleasant

Sexuality Headcanon: straight

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: daniel x marriage counseling. no, really.

ok but in all seriousness, it’s obvious that dan and mary sue really really need to work their shit out and i don’t think they could do it easily, if at all. if nothing else, they’d stay together for their public image I MEAN their kids whom they clearly love sooo muuuch 

(meanwhile i’m certain angela and lilith - especially lilith - would rather their parents divorced because the tension in the house is so fucking thick you could cut it with a knife, and that’s not a healthy environment to grow up in)

i don’t really ship him with anybody, to be honest. i know he’s with kaylynn on the side but i don’t personally see her sticking around, especially in the aftermath of a destroyed marriage.

unless he actually gets his shit together, i can’t imagine him being able to fully commit to a relationship, as evidenced by his abysmal relationship with his own wife.

A BROTP I have with said character: hmmm. maybe dan and don would be friends? i mean, they’re both cheaters, and they’d become social pariahs for it, but they’d be in it together, at least. meanwhile, their respective marital exes can get together to actually have a happy relationship.

for all i know, don might’ve actually convinced dan to take the plunge into debauchery in the first place. like he was like “don’t you miss when you were a carefree bachelor, dan?” and dan’s like “yeah man i miss that life” because its obvious he’s going thru a mid life crisis, so don basically encourages him - wittingly or not - to cheat on his wife. and they’re probably unaware that they’re both dating the maid.

oh fuck. now that i think about it this makes perfect sense.

A NOTP I have with said character: i guess daniel and mary sue? like, it’s an obvious answer but i literally almost always expose him as a cheater to her when i play the pleasants lmao their relationship really does not stand a chance.

A random headcanon: daniel usually prefers peace and quiet, so the constant arguing between his daughters - mixed with his poor relationship with his wife and the secret he keeps from her at the start of the game - makes it very hard for him to want to be around his own family.

instead of taking more initiative to take control of his domestic life, daniel instead opts to run from his problems. because he’s a Bastard. he envies his sister for having a healthier marriage than he does, unaware (or unwilling to entertain the thought) that perhaps jennifer and john have their own problems too.

General Opinion over said character: daniel is an absolute wet moldy rag of a man and his soap-opera-esque suffering amuses me.

Mortimer Goth

Sexuality Headcanon: pansexual.

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: i mean, the obvious answer would be mortimer x bella 5evr. they really are, or... were, a lovely couple. back in the sims 1 days, they were the ‘adorably eccentric’ goth family.

his wife had her strange magic, and he had his weird science, and together they were a power couple to end all power couples. but the thing is, i don’t imagine their relationship was built to last.  mortimer had far more ‘energy’ than bella did, and although they were a match, it was often difficult for her to keep up with him and his... mortimerisms. obviously bella had her quirks, but mortimer was something else. people often wondered how they managed to work together.

and as for his relationship with dina in the sims 2... well, the way i see it is, after bella’s disappearance, mortimer was utterly distraught. dina came to introduce herself and perhaps comfort him, since she was bella’s former sister in law, and in his weakness, things slowly escalated.

but even in his old age, mortimer is a highly intelligent and intuitive man who, i think, could read just about anyone like a book. if dina was just a run of the mill gold digger, he would’ve dropped her like a rock because he’s smarter than that. therefore, i’m almost certain that their relationship goes deeper than dina being interested in his wealth.

A BROTP I have with said character: this might seem odd, but mortimer and bonehilda in both the sims 1 and the sims 2. listen, i know she doesn’t appear in the sims 2... officially. but that doesn’t stop me from modding her into the game. and i have done exactly that.

the best part about acquiring the skeleton maid was that mortimer finally had somebody to ramble endlessly to about his latest ideas, the things that kept him up at night, but he didn’t want to bother bella while she was trying to sleep.

previously, he’d get an idea and would enthusiastically slams the door open like “BELLA I JUST HAD AN AMAZING IDEA!!!” and bella, laying in bed, would say “it’s the middle of the night and i have a golf tournament in the morning, dear.” and at that, mortimer would back out and slowly and quietly close the door.

so while bonehilda was tidying up the house, he would be essentially pacing around and talking to himself. thinking aloud helped him keep his thoughts in order - he has so many of them - and she would dutifully listen to his every word.

unfortunately he eventually had to retire the maid, she would frequently emerge from her coffin at inopportune times while bella was entertaining guests and they’d run out screaming.

bella also got tired of her drinking her cocktails and leaving puddles everywhere.

A NOTP I have with said character: i’d make jokes about it but i probably wouldn’t ship him with his skeleton maid. other than that i can’t think of any.

A random headcanon: mortimer is the very definition of mad scientist. open the page in the dictionary and you will find his picture.

being a knowledge sim, i feel like mortimer would do anything in the pursuit of knowledge, because he’s perpetually overwhelmed with curiosity and a desire to understand everything about the world, even if that often drives him to doing strange and, perhaps, unethical things in the name of science...

his curiosity led him to his chosen field in the first place. he was a bit of an amateur scientist even before then. as he rose through the ranks in his career and gained more notoriety for his scientific pursuits, he also took quite a lot of heat - some of his more bizarre experiments caused a great deal of scandals in his younger years.

he always managed to get back in the public’s favor, and he eventually got the last laugh against the press because he retired with a huge fortune.

General Opinion over said character: i’ve never been able to put my finger on it, but something about mortimer has always, ALWAYS felt extremely shady to me... and that’s what makes him interesting.

Johnny Smith

Sexuality Headcanon: bi

Gender Headcanon: man

A ship I have with said character: johnny x ophelia is cute, but johnny x ripp is also cute. you know what’s even cuter? all three of them together. they are so wholesome and good.

in my experience with strangetown (both in my current project and in an abandoned uberhood i did a while back), ripp usually has no romantic interest in ophelia and 100% interest in johnny, just on his own. their lack of feelings for each other, however, doesn’t stop them from both being with johnny, if they ever decided to do so. the only thing stopping them is their own personal convictions and... fear. as is the standard for these kinds of relationships, it would take a A Lot Of Work.

i’m sure johnny really loves them both, just in different ways. i see him as being the very physically affectionate friend who gives hugs out like candy and they both love him for it because they’re both touch starved as fuck. (that’s what you get when you have olive specter and buzz grunt as parental figures)

even tho it’s his first, the progression of his relationship with ophelia feels very natural to him. meanwhile, the idea of him and ripp together has never crossed his mind, not because he wouldn’t be interested, but because... um, well, he has a girlfriend, so... imagining himself with people other than his girlfriend would be weeeeird, you know? yeah...

he might also be a little oblivious, so that’s probably why he hasn’t picked up on ripp being weird around him yet. so ripp’s watching johnny be affectionate with ophelia like “god i wish that were me” and then johnny’s like “ripp are you ok” and ripp is like “haha yeah bro i’m great!!! :’)”

he’s always there for ophelia, and if ripp were willing to open up to johnny more often, he’d do the same for him.

A BROTP I have with said character: johnny!!! and!!! ripp!!!

whenever ripp is at johnny’s house, Which Is Often, they usually play SSX 3 together. johnny is better at it than ripp is, but at least ripp can beat him at darts on the dartboard on the back porch. they’re equally matched when it comes to playing pool, however.

they also really like to make dumb jokes at each other, including dumb puns and other such groan-inducing jokes read from vintage joke books and candy wrappers.

A NOTP I have with said character: hm... i can’t think of any because i don’t really ship him with anyone other than his two friends.

i could say johnny and tank but honestly that would be a total lie because i can imagine plenty of reasons to ship them, oddly enough. i don’t, but i can see why some do.

A random headcanon: johnny has basically spent his entire life surrounded by people - family, friends, etc. - to the point where being totally alone actually scares him quite a lot. he’s a popularity sim after all.

and, as unhealthy as it is, he really feels like its’ his responsibility to bring balance to ripp and ophelia’s lives by being the fun cheerful affectionate buddy, who always tries to lend an ear and a shoulder to cry on. he’s a little scared that if he didn’t hold them together at their worst, then they’d fall apart.

it’s a lot of work and he loses sleep from it sometimes because holding other people together is Actually! Very! Stressful! but he dreams of being a hero on a white horse and all, so if he has to, he will be the hero they need. he doesn’t want them to worry about him, he doesn’t want them to feel like they’re burdening him, so he never tells them that.

General Opinion over said character: 

[statementends]

@badthingshappenbingo​

@auralqueer​ requested You Can Scream All You Want for Jon or Martin

Characters: Jonathan Sims

Pairings: Gen, Canon typical levels of Jon/Martin way in the background

Warnings: The Lonely. Mention of canonical character deaths. 

Summary: Peter strands Jon in the fog. Jon has to make a choice. 

AO3: Link

-

“You can scream all you like, Jon. Not even Elias will hear you.” Peter grinned. He gave a cheery wave as the world around him went white with salty mist. He barely caught Martin’s cry before the Institute disappeared.

The fog rolled all around him cold and clinging. He was on the beach, more of a little island really, the waves drawing up to his feet soaking him. All around him an endless rolling sea, barely visible behind the fog.

“LUKAS!!” He shouted, enraged. “I’m going to find my way out of here! I won’t let you do this. Lukas!!!!!”

The fog pressed against him, seeping into him.

No Basira, or Daisy, or Melanie.

No Martin.

Alone with himself with no one for company. Just a tape recorder laying beside his feet being licked by salty spray.

Icy rain fell in sheets.

“LUKAS!” He yelled again. The fog seemed to swallow the volume of it.

He was shaking with cold and anger… and fear.

He had never been afraid of being alone. Not that he had never felt an ache of loneliness, but he had never really… enjoyed people. He had only come to appreciate them after…

He thought of Tim and Sasha. Of Basira and Melanie’s distance. Martin being… gone. The warmth that came from Daisy reaching out.

He had lost some of them. Loved them when it was too late to make a difference, but this time he wouldn’t fail. He would protect who he had left.

He felt tears stream down his cheeks. He wasn’t losing anyone again. Not again.

He started screaming out into the fog willing there to be a response, but with each passing moment he felt further and further removed from them. The trust and friendship that they had been building a dim flickering candle against the fog.

He needed an anchor to pull himself out, but this wasn’t like the coffin.

He had Daisy in the coffin.

And although he had been crushed, and scared, and desperate... that had comforted him.

This place held no comfort of human life. He was alone.

The fog pulled out the warmth of that memory, and only left him with the dirt. He tried to think of Basira and could only recall her mistrust and muted anger. Could only grasp Melanie’s rage. Helen’s desperation and the being that call itself Michael’s strange look of twisted betrayal. Daisy’s anger. He could only remember with clarity the feeling of knowing Sasha James was dead and Tim Stoker was dead, and Martin was gone, and that was his fault. That they may have made choices, but being by his side had caused them to suffer.

He didn’t deserve their warmth.

He was alone. Left with himself.

The Archivist categorized all of it. The empty beach, the cold weather, the weight of knowing no one would come for him, no one would want him, and that he didn’t deserve anyone.

He wondered if this place could really hold him. Closed his eyes. He continued to scream, but maybe it wasn’t out loud anymore. Maybe it was inside. Jonathan Sims screaming as the Archivist opened his Eyes and looked out over the endless empty ocean, Knowing there was no one.

A shiver ran up his spine.

The Archivist's...his own detachment made things all the worse. Separated him further from humanity. A monster floating in the endless sea of knowledge, letting the human drown.

Maybe that was better.

His throat was sore from screaming now. No one was coming. The Archivist could survive this. Jonathan Sims… probably not.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let go of the dimming candle he had left.

His… friends…

Right now he could only remember the points of how lonely they had made him feel. The Archivist dissected these feelings. Elias had once said that I would drop them when they weren’t needed anymore. Part of me… feels that. That clinging will only make me weak at this point. The power of loneliness is need. If I don’t need them… then this place has no power.

He laughed, realizing that he was narrating to the tape recorder. Never truly alone. Although distant, he could still feel the Eye’s endless stare.  

“If I want to save them… then I have to give in, don’t I? The more I cling the more power Lukas has over me. I have to let them go if I have any chance of getting back.”

He took a few panicked breaths.

He tried to think of Georgie, but could only picture her as she left his hospital room, disappointed in him again. The Admiral, affectionate but not his. His Grandmother who resented the circumstances of raising him.

“I don’t forgive you, but thank you for this.”

“I always wanted my friends to call me Gerry.”

“I see you!”

“Please stop finding me.”

“GET OFF ME!!”

“You died.”

“If this really is a second chance, please try to take it. But I don’t think that it is.”

“Yeah. And I’m not gonna let it happen again.”

His throat was raw, screaming old wounds into the empty sea. He wouldn’t be calm. It would not be the Archivist that would exorcise them from him.

He was angry. So angry. 

He felt the ax in his hands as it struck clean through the web table. The taste of smoke the night Leitner died. Heard the click of the detonator in Tim’s hand. The smell or rot in Melanie’s leg. Felt the crush of the dirt with no pull to draw him back home. Remembered the old paranoia directed at all the wrong people. Remembered opening the trapdoor to Jane Prentiss.

And he stopped.

Jon gasped for breath. Rubbed his eyes with his soaking sleeve.

All his plans were terrible.

All his instincts were wrong.

It was them. They had saved him. Every time. It was them.

He let himself fall to his knees, the sand cushioning his hard drop. Shakily he reached over and grabbed the tape recorder.

“Statement of Jonathan Sims,” He rasp, throat sore. “The Archivist. Concerning his own humanity. Recorded on the day the world is supposed to end. Statement begins: 

Peter Lukas thinks that I am trapped here. He thinks that with me out of the way there will be no one to stop him… no one to save Martin. Peter Lukas thinks that I am alone.” He chuckles at this. “The Eye won’t let me be alone of course. I’m always being watched. Vigilo, audio, opperior. Watching. Listening. Waiting. It’s rather sinister with all I know about the organization now, but there is wisdom in the Magnus Institute’s crest. This time, I will heed it. Peter Lukas thinks that I am alone. And here, I might believe him. I feel… forsaken, and the Beholding gives me no comfort, although it never has. The Eye will not save me. It watches, listens, waits. I will do the same. I… trust them. I… I love them. I can’t escape this place. Not by myself--”

The fog started to pull away. The sand became solid under his knees.

He watched for Basira’s shining light through the fog. Listened for Melanie’s call to him. He waited for Daisy’s firm grip on his shoulder.

Hope. Hope had always been the anchor. He reached out for Martin’s hand.

“But they’ll save me.” Jon finished kneeling on the floor of the Magnus Institute. He gripped Martin’s hand.

“Jon!” Tears slipped down Martin’s cheeks. 

Jon grinned viciously at Peter Lukas’ shocked face.

He shakily stood, Martin helping him to his feet.

“Now, Jon.” Peter took a step back. “You need to understand. I’m trying to save us. Hear me out.”

Jon closed his eyes basking in the warmth, then opened them. Then another eye. Then another.

And he was Jonathan Sims. And he was going to protect his friends.  

“You can scream all you want, Peter.”

[melien]

1, 2, 3, and 4? Oh and bonus question: Have you ever had a couple in game who found each other on their own? Love you!

Thank you, you’re the best! That’s a long one, so buckle up, everyone. :D

1. Who’s your favourite currently living Born In Game Sim? Are they different from your all-time fav BiG Sim?

My current ones are Devon and Ashwini. They’re both gorgeous and so interesting for me, they’re also polar opposites but get along pretty well despite everything. And yeah, I still haven’t chosen the heir among them, it’s really been my hardest choice ever. At this point I’ll probably just go with double and then see how I feel about their kids (even though it may not be a good idea because I can fall in love with the kids as well, but I’m willing to take a risk). Basically, Devon has an advantage because he has more of a story going on, but Ash is a better genetic mix since Devon is gorgeous but looks more like Jai, and Ash took after both parents. We’ll see, though… we’ll see.

About my all-time favourite, well… I must say that not all my born in game sims are actually born in game. I often create them before they make their first appearance to save myself some trouble, since they’re either going to be clones or not look the way I want them to, and I still have to reroll. (with Dev and Ash I might have did some rerolls but I did not create them beforehand so they were both surprises). So, to remember who was actually born in game on the spot… it may be Lavi or Irene. If we talk Fletchers, I’d say Kyle and Keith too, I remember how I loved them both starting from their very birth. And yeah, normally I’d say Claret but she was created like two or three months before she was born and the whole time I’ve been dying for her to appear and to talk about her.

2. Who’s your current OTP~? Did you matchmake them as Sim God or did they find each other on their own?

Oooo, I secretly craved this question just so I could talk about Carnet! Technically I matchmaked them, but I didn’t expect them to have that much chemistry. Even though I created a story in my head for them long before their generation, I still had to wait for them to click when they actually meet in game. But then there was this one gameplay when I discovered that my heart skips a beat when I see their interactions, so that’s when I knew I’m on the right path with them.

So, what I love about them?

First and foremost, their relationship is so healthy and understanding. They support and love each other in an unconditional way. But, despite that, they’re both their own people with own goals and desires. It matters a lot.

Carn was patiently waiting for Claret while she was figuring things out, and never pressured her. Even if he hoped for her to return his feelings, he respected her too much and valued her as a friend. Eventually, when they got together, their friendship only solidified. Friends to lovers trope rules!

Therefore, they had such a beautiful slow burn. I was living for it. And the scene where they confess their feelings… I proudly consider it one of the best confessions I’ve ever written, if not the best.

They had a special bond from the beginning, since they’re my first and only couple that’s been together in all life stages.

They’re bigger than just a legacy couple. They are ultimate soulmates, meaning they get and stay together in every universe, including original and Valentine’s Day special, and every lifetime (Sunrise and Sunset). I’ve been thinking about it lately and… there’s really not a lot of ultimate soulmates on my blog. It’s rare.

And in TS4 they literally got married on their first date. As I said on Twitter that day, that’s love binch

Dusk and Dawn thing! Maybe it’s not an original naming pattern on berry simblr, but I came to it on my own, though I feared it might seem like I copied from someone. I just liked the name Dawn and wanted to use it for a long time, and upon searching for Carn’s middle name and listening to “Dusk Till Dawn” it clicked in my head.

They’re my first couple to have a double proposal (the only time I was happy my game crashed)

They went through so much stuff to be together, I won’t even list all of it. But to me, Claret saving Carn from the burning house is still the most iconic thing any character of mine could do for their lover. She challenged the laws of nature for him.

I literally cried when they had Cloudberry after all they’ve been through.

Except their epic and serious moments, they had a lot of adorable and funny ones.

They resolve conflicts in a mature way, as seen with their disagreement on Claret’s pregnancy.

It might go on and on, but yeah, for me they’re The OTP and I love them both so much, together and apart. ❤

I must say, I’m glad they’re not my only good couple and there are more. I have another more recent big ship who I didn’t matchmake and there’s actually a very cool story about how they ended up together, but I can’t tell it just yet so that’s for the next time.

3. Which playable Sim(s) is/are annoying you right now? Like, really just pissing you off?

Answered!

4. What’s been the most surprising development of your current rotation/generation/etc?

Hmm, in the Lilygreens, probably Brent. Like I said before, I didn’t expect him to be so amusing. I sometimes read his old posts and they crack me up. Other stuff that I’d like to mention is probably spoilery.

In the Maples, Jesse and Leighton! They shamelessly crawled into my heart and are here to stay, despite not even being legacy sims and serving as extras.

Other legacies, I don’t have much to say since there wasn’t a lot of surprising stuff in Fletcher reboot lately (but I hope the storyline for gen 2 will surprise everyone else since it’s quite unusual), and I haven’t played the Twinkles since May.

Bonus: Have you ever had a couple in game who found each other on their own?

Yes! It’s not a classic definition of it because my couples normally don’t “meet” in game, but there are a few that I didn’t initially plan and they happened due to a nice coincidence or just me feeling like they’d click.

Curtis and Atticus are one of them, I came up with the idea when they both already existed and I was trying to connect their generations and it suddenly made so much sense.

Clarissa and Aimee weren’t an original plan, but somehow, I don’t even know how, they made me ship them.

Kyle, who’s been in my game for almost four years and gave me a lot of shipping struggles, finally *gasp* will have a spouse who he has chemistry with! And the funniest thing? This person has been there all along, but appeared on my blog only once. I don’t know how they found each other. I just thought of it and was like, hell yeah.

Emit and Emma also fall under this category! When me and my friend were just casually playing, we made random sims and one of them (Emma) quickly became friends with Emit. Even though you can’t romance a time traveler, they kept smiling at each other. I was down for it.

And finally, I mentioned this one couple after my big Carnet ramble. Seriously, that’s probably my most exciting story of two sims finding each other. I wish I could tell it now, but I promise I will… very soon, actually.

Whew, it was fun! And if anyone read all this, you’re a hero.

[japanessie]

Hi Shelly! I'm sorry you're feeling blue! I was going to ask that about Taka and Hiro, too, but was worried I'd get too upset but since someone else asked anyway...It just kind of made me wince with hurt for Hiro when a few years ago Taka ranted on instagram about privacy (for his own life, not about his family). Like, where was your voice when your own fans were BULLYING your baby brother or when they posted on a forum after the ONE time Tomohiro finally showed his face, they asked if he was...

[2/3] Adopted! He already had issues being on camera (hasnt been on since, cant blame him). So, Hiroki looks too much like Taka but Tomo doesn’t look enough? They’re his little brothers, I think bullying BOTH Little brothers is when the time to speak up is. I’m not saying the bros cant handle themselves but I just feel Hiro, aside from mfs, has been on his own. It would be nice if his eldest brother took responsibility for his so called “fans” who attack his family and stood up… 

[3/3] Sorry it just hits close to home. I know what it’s like 2 not have your older bro there when u need him most. When he leaves u in a house burning with hatred (i got to hear my parents accuse each other of cheating while my bro was out smoking & drinking. It makes me wonder what Hiroki heard when no one thought he was listening). I dont mean to take it personally or anything, I just feel like Hiroki & I are very similar. It’s why I like mfs. I’m sorry, I just have no one else to talk about it to.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−− −−−−−−−−−−−−−−

Hi 😊. I combined your messages together into one for easier reading

First of all I’m sorry for the pain that you personally had to go through. I hope you’re doing okay 🤗. At the same time though, I see uniqueness besides similarities in everybody’s situation. 

1. Someone who is broken can’t be a crutch for someone else

In a traditional family setup in many cultures, even more prominent in Asian cultures, the eldest child is always the one assumed to carry responsibilities of looking after the younger ones. In a family crisis situation, while the younger ones theoretically have the one they can turn to, the eldest child has nobody and is usually left to fend for himself and everybody else. 

Some elder kids have the inner strength and maturity to carry it at young age but some really struggle with it and only develop at a later age. Your brother and Taka seem to be in the latter category. Like Taka, your brother walked out because he was hurting and that was the shortcut way he knew how to surpress it and to stay away from what was troubling him at home. He couldn’t be your pillar when he was broken himself. Just like Taka who took the quick way out and his story had been well documented. 

Also, a lot of times, someone who feels worthless doesn’t understand why anyone would feel hurt to see him walk away. I’m sure Taka himself only fully began to understand NOW, as an adult, the hurt he caused Hiro when he walked away back then. In his mind, he was a loser. Not doing well in school, stressed out over the parents’ marriage breaking up, not getting along with their father, very unhappy and not knowing where his future was heading. Certainly not someone for little Hiro to look up to. How would he look after Hiro when he could barely take care of himself?

* The Moriuchi brothers in those days when they used to be around each other a lot, before OOR moved out of Japan 😊

2. Some people need to pull themselves together first before they can love others

That dark period in Taka’s life was not something he’s proud of. He acknowledges it in interviews and his lyrics. Even OOR members admitted that Taka wasn’t exactly a pleasant person to deal with when they first found him. But once he got his life on track, things fell into places. He made amend with his father and got back the Moriuchi name. While Taka couldn’t give back the years with him that Hiro lost, he let Hiro hang around his friends and be a part of his life back in that way. 

Even Hiro never denied the perks of being Taka’s brother. The most significant was when one of Taka’s close friends K from Pay Money To My Pain befriended Hiro and how that friendship led to the formation of MY FIRST STORY. 

Think again, would Kei Goto a.k.a the late K simply befriend a random underaged high school kid just like that? I highly doubt it 🤔. Hiroki Moriuchi was NOT some random high school kid. K and Taka were buddies and Hiro the high school kid was Taka’s little brother. I doubt Taka would let his little brother hang around someone he didn’t trust. He knew Hiro was in good hands. All these happened only after Taka got his life back on track and was able to be the big brother figure he was meant to be for Hiro.

3. Taka publicly standing up for Hiro would be bad for Hiro’s image

Yes, it would be counter-productive for Taka to do so. You see, the ROOT of the hate and cyber-bullying towards Hiro stemmed from how easy things happened for him because of his family connection. If Taka had spoken out, it would make Hiro appear weak and ultra-dependant on his big brother. 

“Duh! Not only he got a band because he’s Taka brother. Now, he needs to be protected like a baby!” 

Hmm … does that sound good to you? We also need to see things from the haters’ perspective too, you know. Oh, with Papa being a multi-millionaire? Trust me. Hiro would get even less respect if any of his family members had spoken out for him. The bullying might get even worse. 

As for Tomo, anything his family members say would bring unnecessary attention to him. He appeared on TV that one time because of his job at the station. Otherwise, he’s very private. It’s unfair on him if his famous family gives more reasons for the public to scrutinize his life when that’s the last thing he wants. 

4. Being seen publicly as a brave independent fighter would be far more beneficial for Hiro

It worked well for Taka. He only started displaying his bonds with his parents AFTER he had firmly made a name for himself even though they had been on good terms since the early days of OOR. Likewise, Hiro would be less relatable to many fans if he is constantly being taken care of by his more famous and successful family members. Isn’t that the public perception Hiro is still trying hard to break away from? 

Not just the Moriuchi, I have never seen being publicly defended by family members work well for ANY celebrity in the world. It may work for ordinary folks but things work differently for famous people. 

I do support Hiro but I think even his most ardent supporters would agree that he somewhat gives off these “baby” vibes. MFS members themselves seem protective towards him. They let him be mischievious, loud and boisterous with them but they’re always there to hug him when he cries. Therefore, independence from his family would balance that out nicely.

5. Taka made a conscious choice to speak only for himself because he knew any reaction to it would be directed to him and ONLY him

As opposed to Taka speaking out for any of his family members, whom the public might hurl the hate and negative reaction to instead. 

Things just work differently for celebrities. In a way, to minimize the bullying towards their loved ones, staying out of their public battle a lot of times is the better way to go. By not bringing more attention to it. 

Likewise, none of Taka’s family members said anything when Taka had to face a barrage of criticism and angry reactions at the time. The ones who publicly defended him were his friends and peers. Guys like Mah (SiM) and Masato (Coldrain) among some. For celebrities, somehow testimonies from people they have worked with or even strangers they have encountered hold much higher values than family members. 

With their chosen careers, backlash and criticism come with the territory. That’s what their parents want to instill in the two brothers. “You have chosen this path. Learn to deal with it.“

6. Rude fans are rude fans nonetheless

Rude people don’t suddenly become angels just because their idols ask them to. Just look at the backlash against Taka. It was quite brutal. Just like how Hiro got pictures of a woman pooping by his haters, I saw a photo of a “hairy ding dong” for Taka among some, along with truckloads of really scathing words. By his own fans (or should I say “ex-fans"?). If this kind of fans are willing to treat Taka like that just from ONE social media post, then nothing good can come out of it if Taka had said or done anything about Hiro’s haters. The ones who would cheer him would still be the same ones who already support MFS anyway. 

Remember when fans were speculating that OOR’s song Right By Your Side as being dedicated to Hiro? Those who like MFS thought it was a sweet gesture but those who don’t like MFS used it as an excuse to say, “Look! Taka wrote a song for Hiro. Yet he still wants to call Taka his rival. What a low life!”. Yes, I’ve personally seen comments like that. So, see? Whatever Taka does regarding Hiro, mean-spirited people will still find a way to set fire to it.

7. There must be more than meets the eye

Fans went nuts when the brothers wore this pair of pants. I doubt it’s a coincidence that Hiro suddenly is comfortable wearing Taka’s look when he used to be sensitive about being called Taka’s copy before.

But that’s not even something new. in January 2018, Taka posted a photo of himself wearing this Monster’s Inc hoodie at Disneyland. That same month, Hiro was wearing that same Disney hoodie at his 24th birthday party.

Heaven knows what Taka had said to Hiro in private especially after MFS Budokan show 🤔. At the end of the day, they are family and though I also know many families who cut ties from each other, Taka and Hiro clearly are the ones who keep theirs 😉.

2 more cents

I feel that Taka is doing the right thing by staying away from Hiro publicly. Not responding to the negativity surrounding Hiro but still letting fans know that his little brother has his full support.

[nikatyler]

Another week is ending, another replies post is here. Why is it that when there’s a million deadlines waiting for me, time just gets faster? I miss the old days when I had nothing to do. Kinda.

Remember when I rambled a lot in these posts before getting to the actual replies? I have nothing to say this time, other than Roses are coming back (which you’ve probably already noticed). I’m kinda sad to see gen 2 of NSB is truly coming to an end now (in my game, it’s been over for a few months). It was definitely an era and I want to thank everyone who’s been here for this crazy ride. It seems to me like you all enjoyed it way more than I expected. I hope you’ll stay and well, we’ll see them again in a few months. This time, Sunset will be in the spotlight.

I’m talking as if there weren’t a few more days of NSB left in the queue. It’s the FiNaL cOuNtDoWn...idk why I just thought of that song but I’m gonna go listen to it now. If I’m not mistaken, Friday is the last NSB day. Enjoy it.

mysticsheepplant replied to your photoset “Rose, Sammy protect this innocent bean has the voice of an actual...”

I'm exited, I love her

Thanks! ♥ Me too. I didn’t expect to love her so much but then she stole my heart

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “Rocket, do you even remember our first meeting? I was beyond pissed...”

:(

Doggos should live forever!

Agreed

@ whoever runs this planet pls make dogs immortal thank you

dandylion240 replied to your photoset “Ross: “And like…once I become a vampire, the wrinkles will be gone,...”

Aw Ross can almost be sweet

He’s trying

jackssims replied to your photoset “Hey Lilith…why are you here?”

lajsglkdas Is Lilith going to deliver her brother's baby? Iconic

ikr? She showed up there and I was like “Oh no. Oh nooo. Oh yes. This couldn’t have gotten any better.”

jackssims replied to your photoset “Lilith: “Before we start -” Caleb: “Can we do it now? We can talk...”

sljagfdlks I was like "Lilith's really breaking the 4th wall here" before I even got to the tags and honestly? I'm here for it

This couldn’t have happened without me mentioning this let’s be real

Also, if I’m not mistaken, it will soon be the second anniversary of the original Caleb abduction. The abduction that changed pretty much everything for this blog.

simsandthensome replied to your photoset “I’m blue da ba dee da ba daa Da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa,...”

you say that like I don't willingly have this song on my phone in 2019

To be fair now that you say it, I’m surprised I don’t have it on my phone

It’s kind of an annoying song but in the best way

jackssims replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”

Chsbdjdsjjf an iconic concept

madgnomes replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”

I like this idea haha

mysticsheepplant replied to your photoset “100 baby challenge but it’s with Caleb Vatore and you have to get him...”

TBH I wanna do that with Don Lothario

Imagine if I actually did that. Should I? Also, I love the idea of doing that to Don Lothario instead. Don deserves it because he’s kinda the worst.

cafeheart replied to your photoset “Rose, Lydia wants to fight everyone basically an angry chihuahua ...”

looks like a cinnamon roll but will e a t y o u

As in...oh god I didn’t think of that and I hate it but also you’re not wrong. Good point lmao

Me: I’m an innocent child!!!1!1!11!

Also me: immediately thinks of this

tealiah replied to your photoset “Mid-Century Twin Houses I’ve been inspired by people putting multiple...”

This is SO cool!!

Thank you! I tried.

lilleputtu replied to your photoset “To quote one of my favourite P!ATD songs: you looked at death in a...”

Rocket Breeze - Vampire Dog, coming to a NSB near you very soon

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “To quote one of my favourite P!ATD songs: you looked at death in a...”

Yay, long live the pup!

I wish we could have actual vampire dogs. Kinda weird but kinda cool

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Shhh, Lucian. Shhh…come on. Seriously, would you shut up? Your...”

Nice to see some things about Ross haven't changed. He's terrible with kids.

He might be a better person now but deep down in the core, it’s still our good old buddy Ross :D

elisabettasims replied to your photoset “I used to love this kind of cake…why do I hate it now? Caleb can eat...”

This sounds like a clear case of 'be careful what you wish for'.

Yup. But I guess giving up the cake is worth it

whysimstho replied to your photoset “Sunset: “Give me that ball, Rocket! We’ll buy you an age-down treat if...”

Me everytime there's a rocket post: not to be dramatic but I'd die for you my darling boy

Same

melideesim replied to your post “One of the best Not So Berry Simblrs! ��”

I agree with this. I binge-read the entire legacy from start to now yesterday!

GUYS YOU’RE TOO NICE TO ME

Thank you so much! I don’t feel like I’m doing anything special but really, thanks a lot :’)

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “Speaking of cakes, Ross is willing to give it a try again.”

I mean...cake! ����

I’ve only now noticed how obsessed my sims are with it

fataleromeo replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”

❤❤❤

aestheicpixels replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”

Awwww

simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “If this ain’t the cutest dark form I’ve ever seen”

Awwwww he's the cutest vampire oml ♥ ♥

It wasn’t really my intention to make him look cute, but then he did this and I knew he was trying to be scary but actually...it was just adorable.

jackssims replied to your photoset “Ross: “Told you this would be the best thing to do. I’ve always told...”

I'm soft for these two tf

We all are

whysimstho replied to your photoset “Ross: “Told you this would be the best thing to do. I’ve always told...”

Can I just say I LOVE that he still has his lighter hair color

I wanted to keep it to show that he’s different now, or something like that. I can’t think of the right word at the moment. Classic Ronnie

aestheicpixels replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”

He's such a cutie!!

This is where he was supposed to look all evil and scary but he’s already failing lmao

jackssims replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”

I thought of this the other day! Foreshadowing in plain sight, I love it

I was wondering if anyone would see it coming or if it would be more like “oh yeah, Halloween, vampires, of course she did that, no big deal, let’s move on”.

fataleromeo replied to your photo “you’ll be mine”

Oh wow, I love this! I don't think I was following you back when it was originally posted. Glad I am now!

♥♥

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photoset “He’s so cute and I’m dead. Also, I have a headcanon that babies who...”

Aaaawww he's really precious!

In each Form

This was the moment I was suddenly happy Caleb got abducted again

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “This is gay sim twilight I'm living for it”

If twilight was gay I would be into it. Probably. I'm kinda proud that I never had "twilight phase"

I’ve only ever watched the first movie. I don’t remember it too much though. But I remember having like two Twilight posters from teen magazines on my wardrobe when I was about 11 because I wanted to be cool, even though I didn’t really know what it was. I just knew everyone was talking about it.

I also had this idea that “cool kids have posters everywhere” so...yeah. I was a weird kid at that time.

simlovinggirl replied to your photoset “Stella: that’s my otp”

Mine too Stella, mine too ♥

They’re everyone’s otp here, aren’t they? :D 

I’ll never forget when I asked who you guys ship Ross with and everyone who replied just said Caleb. There were a few other guesses, but everyone mentioned they were rooting for Caleb. The audience’s love for these two is one of my favourite things about this generation.

is it weird that i just called you guys audience