#but uh yeah i might change it again soon... just wanted a change from spooky louie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinner-as-saint · 4 years ago

Text

we can’t stop, we’re enemies.

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader AU

Run-through: After the events of the last battle against Thanos, you teamed up with Sam and Bucky to carry on your superhero duties. You got along with Sam just fine, he was a really good friend to you. Bucky however, was not. From constant banters, to unnecessary hand-to-hand combat, to purposely getting each other in trouble during risky missions, to being the main cause of Sam’s migraines; it was safe to say that you and Bucky considered yourselves to be each other’s nemesis. Although that soon changes when, courtesy of your silly banters, a certain mission goes slightly wrong - one which involves strong chemicals which, unbeknownst to you, were designed to mess with the brain and hormones, thus encouraging the need to breed and procreate amongst all those who inhale it...

Themes: enemies-to-lovers, smut, sex pollen trope, dirty talk, swear words, fluff

“How is it going up there Sam, talk to me.”

You spoke, waiting to hear from Sam through the ear piece.

The three of you were on a mission on unfamiliar lands. Rumor had it that some shady organization was conducting illegal experiments. The whole location was spooky, and you needed to be thorough and quick. So Sam decided to get an aerial view along with Red Wing, and see if there are any threats coming your way while you and Bucky decided to check out the underground laboratories.

The whole place was shadowy and old, it almost seemed like no one had been here in a long time. But still, these people were criminals so you had to gather every evidence you could which would lead you their way.

And so far, after exploring the place for the past half an hour, you found nothing major. Just weird laboratory glassware filled with liquids and what not.

“Sam?” you called out again into the ear piece, keeping your gun at the ready. “Say something damn it.”

His reply came. “There’s something sketchy about the building at the back, I’m gonna go check it out. But you have to promise me you won’t kill each other by the time I get back.”

You and Bucky sent death glares at each other in disgust. He was on the other side of the lab, flipping through files and papers, while you were searching the cabinets and drawers. The two of you were separated by a steel workstation. Dark leather jacket, metal arm exposed; you’d find him handsome if he wasn’t so annoying.

“Sure, whatever.” Bucky mumbled, being his grumpy self.

You frowned at him, “Dude, drop your fucking attitude.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Sam roared through the ear piece, “Enough! Focus, you two are in the labs and we don’t know what’s in there. Just, maybe look out for each other. Okay? I’m going in.”

“Be careful, Sam.” You spoke, sending another dirty look at Bucky.

“Yeah y-,”

Sam got cut off. All you could hear was some static noises and then complete silence.

“Sam? Can you hear us?” Bucky tried reaching out but neither of you could hear him. “This isn’t good.”

“Damn it!” You cursed. “Maybe he flew out of range. Or maybe we’re too deep under.”

For once in his life he nodded, agreeing with you. “Let’s just hurry up and see what we can find. We need to get out of here as fast as we can and get to the Jet.” He said, flipping through more and more files and papers, his metal arm glistening in the poorly lit room.

You sassed in the same tone he used before, “Don’t tell me what to do.” And you earned yourself another glare from him.

Fifteen minutes later and you two still had nothing to work with.

“This is useless. There’s nothing here, this is just bullshit.” Bucky complained, slamming down a file on the workstation so hard that it made you jump.

You were annoyed. You slammed a cabinet shut and turned to face him. “Oh I’m sorry princess, is work getting too tiring? Do you need a break? Hmm?”

“Shut up, you’re the one who keeps whining all the time.” He wasn’t wrong.

You stepped forward, grabbing the edge of the cold workstation. “Well maybe if you’d quit complaining and actually do your part of the job, then I wouldn’t have to whine about always doing everything on my own and you taking credit for it in front of Sam.”

He leaned forward, his metal arm already denting his side of the edge of the workstation. “Maybe if you’d stop bitching about everything and everyone all the time then maybe we’d get along and actually get shit done.”

You leaned in too. “Or maybe if just me and Sam teamed up, we’d work better. I still don’t know why he keeps you around. Take your metal arm away, what are you? Exactly, just a hundred year old, confused man.”

He smirked. “And what are you? Just a spoilt, whiny brat who knows how to use a gun?” He knew just what to say to get the reaction he wanted out of you.

In less than a few seconds you had your loaded gun out in front of you, aiming it at his forehead. “And guess what, she never misses a target.” You spat at him.

You had done this before; aiming guns at each other until Sam comes to break the tension. But Sam wasn’t here this time.

Bucky knew you would never pull the trigger on him so he gave you a handsome, arrogant smirk which only pissed you off even more. “Come on, shoot.” He provoked you.

“Stop pissing me off.” You warned.

“Or what? You’re gonna shoot me for calling you a whiny, spoilt brat? See, that’s exactly what brats do.”

“James, stop.” Oh he was getting on your nerves. You were agitated.

He just smirked and went on. “I actually believe that that might be your superpower, destroying people by annoying them to death with how much of a brat you can actually be.”

You glared at him, unmoving, furious. You placed your forefinger on the trigger. “Say brat one more time and I will blow your fucking head off and when Sam asks, I’ll make it seem like an accident.”

He leaned closer, aligning his forehead to the barrel of your gun. He stared at you with his stormy, ocean blue eyes; inciting you to just pull the damn trigger. He watched you with mischief in his eyes. “Brat.” He mouthed, smirking right after and waiting for your reaction.

You clenched your jaw and shifted your aim just a little so that the bullet misses him but still shoots right by his ear. You pulled the trigger without hesitation, shooting at the shelf filled with dark red and brown liquids behind Bucky.

Bucky maintained his calm and composure despite the loud sound of the shattering glass falling on the tiles right behind him. “Brat.” He said again, out loud this time.

“I hate you.” You lowered your gun but then noticed something behind Bucky. Smoke, or some sort of vapor oozing out of the broken flasks and test tubes. You froze for a second. “Bucky, look.” You walked around the workstation and joined him on the other side.

The vapor quickly filled the room like thick fog, reducing visibility and making your throat burn a little. You coughed; once, twice. You looked beside you and Bucky was standing there with a look of horror on his face.

The moment his supersoldier sense got a whiff of the vapor, something in him ignited. No…

“We have to get out of here. Now.” You heard his voice, then felt his cold fingers wrap around your wrists as he tugged you along, making his way out of the lab. He tried to hold his breath but he couldn’t hold it very long. He tried to find the door to exit the room but that was hard too because neither of you could see properly.

“This stuff,” you spoke in between coughs, “will probably kill us, won’t it?” You held on tightly to his arm. “You need to get us out of here now.” The vapor was reducing your visibility more and more.

He felt the side of the wall, looking for the metal handle of the door through which you entered the lab. “It won’t kill us.” He growled as he looked beside him. You were standing close to him, so close, holding on to his arm tightly, a thin layer of sweat covered your face.

It was almost funny how you had your gun aimed at him just a minute ago and now you were relying on him for protection.

“How can you be so sure? Do you know what this stuff is?” You asked.

He sighed. He knew. “I have a hunch, but let’s hope I’m wrong.” He felt warm. Deep inside something stirred in him. Animalistic, primal, feral. It was there, pressing and burning. Guess he wasn’t wrong.

He finally found the door and he pushed it open, letting the two of you out and you took off running at once. You tried to reach Sam. A couple tries later, he finally responded. “I got some names, I think we got what we’re looking for. Where are you guys?”

“We found…. uh, nothing. We’re on our way to the jet, meet us there.” Bucky responded, running beside you.

You were confused out of your mind, not to mention you felt feverish. Hot, and you were sweating more than usual in places you’d rather not think about. Something in you was yearning to break free. You felt chained, you needed release. You felt like something had awakened inside of you; a deep hunger. Aroused, you felt aroused. Or was it just the adrenaline rush?

By the time you tried to figure out what was actually going on with you, you both had made it to the Jet.

“I feel sick.” you mumbled, stumbling on your way inside the jet. “I think… I think that smoke poisoned me.” You placed your palm against the side of the plane to hold on so you don’t fall. You felt like gravity wasn’t pulling you down anymore. You were a little out of breath.

Then you felt a cold hand on your shoulder. You grimaced as it only ignited the fire which you just found out had been burning inside you since you left the lab.

“You’re not poisoned. You’re not sick, you’re gonna be okay. We just have to… we have to get home.” Bucky was worse than you were. His enhanced senses allowed him to feel everything you felt, times ten perhaps.

His heart raced as he got a whiff of your fading perfume, mixed with the adrenaline pumping through your veins and your natural, raw scent. He could feel your arousal from here, and it pulled him in so easily. All he wanted to do was to tear your suit off, pin you up against the side of the Jet and fuck the living hell out of you, stretch you out and just rail you until you could no longer take it.

Fuck.

You looked up at him; heart racing, palms sweating and even your mouth was salivating more than usual. “You know what that thing was, don’t you?” You asked, ignoring the way his cold hand upon your shoulder made you want to lean into his touch even more. “What was it?”

You saw the look in his hooded eyes. Bucky sighed, pulling his hand away from you and the loss of contact made you whimper ever so quietly. You felt warmer and more and more breathless with each second that passed by.

“They used to make those substances, long ago back when I was with HYDRA. I didn’t expect to find those here. They were used to… to try and see if they could get super soldiers to procreate naturally.” Bucky explained and waited for your reaction.

“Sex pollen. Correct?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

You were a little shaken, but relieved knowing that at least it wasn’t poison and you wouldn’t be dying a painful death. “That’s… I mean, it could have been poison.” You didn’t know how to react after you pieced it all together. “How long before it wears off?”

“Twenty-four hours unless...”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you fuck it out of your system well enough.”

That had you surprised. “Oh. Well that’s just great, isn’t it? Fucking perfect. I’m screwed.”

Bucky tried his hardest to refrain himself from leaning in and biting that sassy mouth of yours, shoving his tongue past your lips to shut you up, to hear you moan and gasp and cry out his name as he takes you however he wants to…

“We.” He corrected you. “It’ll get worse every hour.” He replied.

You sighed and moved away from him, unzipping your combat suit partly and removing the jacket because you couldn’t handle the heat. Bucky cursed as you stripped into just a tank top and tight pants, right in front of him. He felt his cock get harder.

“Can you not?” He sounded pissed off again; frustrated. “This is all your doing. The least you can do is make this a little bit easier for both of us.”

His words made you turn around and glare at him. “How is this my doing? I didn’t even know what was in that lab.”

He stepped forward, instinctively. The sight of your exposed neck and your soft skin was making him think of unspeakable things that he wanted to do to you. As he advanced, you tried not to look down at his cock, straining against his zipper. Your heart raced as you took in the size of his bulge. Enhanced super soldier indeed.

“Had you not been a spoiled brat who can’t take a joke, you wouldn’t have tried to shoot at me nor would you have shot those flasks!” He argued, feeling more and more warm as he got closer to you.

You took a step forward as well, fueled by annoyance, lust and anger. “Who was it who provoked me into doing that because they couldn’t keep their fucking mouth shut, huh? That’s right, your annoying ass!”

Bucky pushed you against the side of the Jet without a second thought. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with his hand while pressing his body into you, his metal arm circling around your waist and pressing you further into him.

He hadn’t thought this through. He hadn’t thought about how your warm breath would feel against his skin, or how warm your body would be under his touch. You felt feverish, having him this close. His tall, large frame and his tight grip made your whimper under him. Your body reacted to him naturally.

All you felt was warm, his body heat, his scent. The feeling of his cold leather jacket against your flushed skin. You wanted him. Or rather, your body did.

“Don’t you provoke me now, you fucking whiny brat.” He whispered, menacingly into your ear.

You tried to ignore the shivers his voice sent down your entire body. But he saw it. And you could feel his erection press against your crotch. Just to mess with him, you discreetly moved your hips against his, making him hiss loudly.

“What are you gonna do about it, dipshit?” You sassed, knowing that given his intensified senses he must be feeling much worse than you.

He groaned as you kept grinding against him, your pulsating core rubbing against the bulge in his pants. And that only made it worse for both of you.

“Fuck…” Bucky swore, before quickly pulling away from you, but not releasing you yet. “You’re such a bitch.” His body was screaming for you, each nerve ending of his was on fire. A fire only you could douse.

You were just the same, on the edge and wanting to reach out for him; knowing he would satiate your hunger better than anyone could. Your body was throbbing as you stared into his eyes, your gaze lowering down to his dog tags. How you wanted those dangling right above your face…

You heard someone clear their throat. It wasn’t Bucky.

“Something you two need to tell me? Or is this just your new way of trying to kill each other?” A deep voice asked from behind Bucky.

“Sam! Are you okay?” You escaped Bucky’s grip and rushed to Sam.

He seemed alright to you. He nodded. “Yeah, we just need to get home. I need to notify the team and see what we should do next. What was in those labs?”

You glared at Bucky. His smug face alone was pissing you off, but God right now you wanted to ride that man until the sun came tomorrow morning.

“Just a bunch of useless experiments. Nothing major.” He glared at you as he said the last bit to Sam.

The ride back home was one of the most painful, annoying and frustrating situations you had ever undergone. Each time you felt like someone was watching you, you’d turn your head to the side and find Bucky staring; and his stares would make your body tremble in need.

Meanwhile he was having a hard time too, in more ways than one. He could feel his blood rush south even at the brief sound of your voice whenever you sighed in annoyance or talked to Sam. Luckily the latter could not pick up on the thick, sexual tension.

Once at the compound, you each hurried to your own rooms and that’s where you stayed until the evening. Sam found it weird that you both skipped dinner but he didn’t need another headache today so he went to bed, telling himself that he’d deal with you two tomorrow morning.

Bucky was a mess. Even after an hour under the cold shower his body was still calling out for you. He tried taking care of his business on his own, but that wasn’t working. He was still so hard it was painful. Nothing could make this better, nothing could soothe the pain - nothing but you. He needed you so badly it was driving him insane, like he was an animal in heat being asked to suppress his feral desires towards his mate. Being away from you was painful. He couldn’t help but hate you for no reason at all usually, but he’d do what it takes to be inside you and make you scream his name right now.

You were equally as troubled at the super soldier. You tried taking a warm bath and tried to think of other things you could focus on, but nothing worked. Your toys didn’t seem appealing tonight, you needed him, all of him. You shivered at the thought of his taut, virile body under yours, or above. His masculine scent, the sound of his moans, would he bite?… fuck. You could feel your arousal leak out of you every now and then, it was insane how aroused you were. You couldn’t look at him for long without getting unnecessarily annoyed, but you would do anything just to have him rearrange your guts right now.

What made it worse was that neither of you could stand each other at all. Enemies, you called yourselves. But right now you couldn’t help but crave each other in the most salacious way possible.

Fuck this. You couldn’t take this anymore. You decided to swallow your pride and make your way to his room and ask him if you two could come to an agreement on how to fight this thing because it would be impossible to go another twenty hours feeling like this. You were burning from the inside. This was unbearable.

Just as you opened your bedroom door, you were slightly surprised to find Bucky standing right outside your door. His metal hand up midair, as though he was to knock on your door and you happened to open the door just in time. You almost drooled at the sight of him; sweatpants and a tight, white t-shirt. You swallowed and cleared your throat.

“Hey.” You greeted him, not knowing how to deal with this situation. You felt so drawn to him in that moment, so damn restless and needy that it was hard to breathe right while looking at him.

“I was, uh, about to knock…” He didn’t know how he got here, he didn’t remember. Maybe it was the chemicals messing with his brain and turning him into a hungry beast. He didn’t care that he was knocking on your door in the middle of the night, he wanted you. He was craving you and that’s all he knew. Also the oversized t-shirt, the only you were wearing at the time, was not helping at all.

“Yeah, um…” you rambled then stopped talking the moment you found him staring into your eyes with a wild look in his eyes.

That was it.

You grabbed him by the waistband of his sweats and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind him. Before Bucky could process anything, you had him pushed against your closed door and your mouth was on his, kissing him hungrily. Your hands slowly slipped under his tight t-shirt and you lazily trailed your hands up and down his toned abs.

His hands gripped your hips on either side as he kissed you back with just as much ardor as you did. His body ignited the moment he felt your lips and hands on him, yet the heat was weirdly satisfying; it stimulated him but calmed him down at the same time. It felt perfect. This was just what he needed, you.

Your movements were rapid and passionate, fiery. Hands roaming each other's body, touching and feeling and exploring; making each other moan like you were both touch-starved.

You let out a soft moan when you felt his tongue slip past your lips, stroking the top of your mouth while his metal hand slipped under your shirt. Your body was tingling wherever he touched you. His touch made you feel way better than you had felt in the past few hours and you were grateful. Your moans sent his mind straight to the gutter and he couldn’t wait to be inside you.

“I need you…” you whispered against his lips as you pulled away to catch your breath. “I need you to fuck me… right here, right now.” Your demands made him smirk as he looked down at you with lust in his eyes.

“Oh?” he managed to still find the energy to be an ass to you. “Why don’t you go on and beg for it, then?”

You scoffed, leaning in to lick his lips while you hand dipped into his pants. You grabbed his erected cock and gave it a little, gentle squeeze. He moaned like he hadn’t been touched in forever. Like he was desperate for one thing and one thing only; you. You whispered, “You need me too, Bucky. I’m not gonna beg you, I’m doing you a favor here.” You slid your closed fist up and down his length and made him moan some more before you let go and watched him groan and clench his jaw in annoyance.

He looked down at you, panting in need just as you were. His hand slid into your hair and he gripped it, tugging on it just enough to make you gasp in pleasure and pain. “Still a fucking brat with that annoying attitude I see?” He leaned in to bite your exposed neck, making your cry out in pain before he licked the spot, soothing it. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll fuck all that attitude out of you.”

He let go of your hair but tightened his grip around your waist as he placed his mouth back on yours. Kissing you like there’s no tomorrow; biting your lip and bruising your already swollen mouth. He was wild, and you needed it and more.

He pushed you down on your bed, and stood back to watch you for a moment. How did he never realize that you were so naturally beautiful? He looked down at you like a predator looking at his meal; fiercely, ready to ruin you and make you scream and beg and satiate his hunger. As well as yours.

“Well, if you’re done staring…” you knelt on your bed and reached out for him, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him closer. “I want you in me. Now.” Your demanding tone riled him up.

Bucky grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back again. “If you wanna get fucked, you’re gonna ask nicely. Understood?”

You glared at him, shooting death glares right at him while your hand palmed him through his sweatpants. “I fucking hate you.” You spat at him, whimpering as he pushed you back down on the bed, quickly climbing on top of you this time.

“I hate you too.” He knelt on your bed, straddling your waist as he tore your oversized shirt in half and off your body, throwing the pieces of fabric somewhere on your bedroom floor. You laid beneath him in just your underwear and he growled.

“That was my favorite shirt, you fucking idiot.” You whispered, breathless, shivers dancing down your spine as he traced your mouth with his two fingers, slipping them past your lips once, then twice then trailing his now wet fingers down your neck, till your belly button.

“You think I care?” he leaned down and took one of your breasts into his mouth, kneading the other with his metal hand. The contrast of his warm mouth around one and his cold hand around the other was driving you crazy. He bit, and tugged and licked; making your back arch off the bed as you purred in pleasure.

Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his erection again to try and alleviate the pain. You were desperate. Bucky pinched and rolled one of your nipples while he lightly grazed the other with his teeth, and you let out a loud moan.

“Please… please, I need you. Please…” You muttered under your breath, knowing he could hear you. Bucky smirked as he pulled away from your chest, ignoring the way his cock throbbed. “What’s so fucking funny?” You grabbed him by the throat, pulling his face closer to yours.

His metal arm reached down in between your legs and he ripped your underwear off. The fabric hurt just a little when it tore against your skin. “Just that it's the first time I heard you asking for something so politely. It’s not so hard after all, is it?”

Now he was pissing you off. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and flipped the two of you around. You got on top of him and straddled his waist, trapping him under you like he had you before. You had better control like this.

You grabbed him by the jaw and leaned in to kiss his lips, fiercely. “Stop fucking playing, Barnes.” You whispered against his lips, grinding against his hard cock again. He closed his eyes and hissed in pleasure as you kissed down to his neck, nibbling on his skin along his throat.

He moaned, hands gripping your hips and guiding you as you rubbed your bare core against his clothed erection. “No? I thought brats liked games?” He mumbled.

You pulled away from his neck and looked down at his smug face. “You are so fucking annoying.” You reached down in between your bodies and lowered his sweatpants all the way down until he kicked them off. You grabbed his cock and stroked him gently, agonizingly slow. He moaned shamelessly, and eventually caught on that you were just teasing him even more.

“Don’t tease me…” he sounded just as breathless as you were.

“Why? Not so fond of games anymore?” you sassed, rubbing your throbbing core against his thigh while you stroked him so gently that he felt like he was losing his mind.

He growled as he grabbed you by the waist and flipped the two of you around, him being on top again. “Enough,” he growled in your ear, “Spread those legs for me.” He ordered, settling in between them as you spread your legs to accommodate him. He grabbed your thighs and parted your legs even more as he aligned the tip of his cock to your opening. “Now stay still, don’t move.”

You braced yourself for him, but nothing could have prepared you for that. His length stretched you open until he was seated deep inside you, filling you up entirely to a point where you couldn’t even think of anything else other than him being balls deep inside you.

You moaned as he removed himself entirely and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear, “Fuck….” you heard him moan; panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you.

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. He kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you over and over again, making your eyes tear up. The burning need subsided a little bit as his cock brushed against all the right spots inside you. “Buck… faster, please,” You whimpered.

He chuckled into your ear, “Needy little brat…” he mumbled as he sped up into you, making you lose your ability to focus on anything else other than him and his body. He pulled away from your face to look down at you, his metal hand coming up to wrap itself around your throat. “This is what you wanted since we left that lab, huh? For me to fuck your greedy little cunt? Hmm?” He taunted as he stretched you out completely. You lifted your legs up and wrapped them around his waist; allowing him to thrust deeper into you.

You felt tears escaping your eyes as he pulled you closer and pressed his forehead to yours fucking deeper into you. He was relentless; each moan which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

You felt a pressure form in between your hips, your body begging for release. “Bucky… please.” You moaned, begging. For something, anything. You’d take anything at this point. But right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he pulled out.

“Please what?” He surprised himself with how he was able to tease you in this situation when all he wanted was to make both of you cum over and over again.

“I need to cum, Bucky please,” you cried, with tears in your eyes.

Bucky leaned in to kiss your swollen lips, not minding the tears. “Do you deserve it?” He asked, and you nodded immediately, your body shaking with how bad you needed to cum. “Oh you do, do you?”

You nodded again. “Please…please...”

“Well since you asked nicely…” Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his muscular body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

He rocked into you from behind. His hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm against your lower abdomen. He liked how he could feel himself deep inside you with each thrust. And he liked how that drove you insane, he could by the way your walls gripped his cock.

“Feel that, little brat? That’s all you’re good for… to take my cock like a good little slut.” He whispered.

You groaned at the sound of his raspy voice, his words making you milk him even harder. “You wish, you dipshit.” You moaned as he sped up when you least expected it. You whimpered, and he chuckled now that he had you at his mercy.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he choked you gently as he bent down to whisper in your ear, “I can assure you that no one is ever gonna fuck you this good,” he boasted as he very gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. “Fuck… please....” you cried.

You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you couldn’t hold back anymore. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. “Cum for me. Now.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You came undone, hard and fast; moaning his name as you did. Bucky came right after you.

You collapsed onto your bed, sprawled unevenly and not even caring. Your eyes were shut in fatigue, your heart racing and you could feel Bucky’s body heat right next to you. He was catching his breath too, mumbling something under his breath which you couldn’t catch.

For the first time in hours, you felt at ease. Your body wasn’t yearning anymore, but the hunger was still there. So when Bucky got up to leave, you grabbed him by the hand and pulled him back into bed with you.

He smirked as he fell helplessly onto your bed again, right next to you. “You want more, you greedy little brat?”

You punched his arm before getting up and getting on top of him again, sliding your body down his cock. He hissed as you did.

“Just another round.” You whispered, loving the sight of him under you. His tan skin against your white sheets, him moaning as you slowly lifted up and sank back down on his cock. Oh fuck…

You placed your hands on his muscular chest to hold yourself up as you sped up, riding him like you’ve been dreaming of this whole time. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you up and down his cock until you both found a pleasurable pace.

You weren’t going to last too long, but you just needed to have him buried deep inside you again. His thick, girthy cock stretched you open as you took him as best you could, moaning and whimpering desperately as he groaned and gasped under you.

Your walls gripping him and milking him like they had earlier, not even a few minutes ago. You felt the pressure forming nicely in between your hips again. You let out a loud moan as you felt his cock reach places it hadn’t before, turning you into a mess.

His grip on your hips tightened as he brought you down on his cock with force each time and thrusting upwards to fuck you deeper. “Cum for me.” He threw his head back, growling. “Cum for me again…”

Your hand grabbed him by the jaw and you leaned in to press your lips against his, claiming his open mouth and muffling his animalistic growls as you came undone around him again. Your orgasm then triggered his.

You fell limp on top of him right after and he instinctively cradled your head. “You okay?”

You nodded, your sweaty bodies pressed against each other but neither of you minding it. “Yeah.”

Bucky gently rolled to his side, letting you down on your side of the bed. You tried your best to calm your racing heart. Not to mention you felt much, much better than earlier.

Bucky got up to leave again, and you grabbed his hand before he got completely out of your bed. He turned to face you with a smirk then groaned dramatically, “Woman please, I’m not a machine. The pain will subside now, I believe we’ve done pretty good at fucking it out of our systems. I can’t go all night, seriously.”

You were in a haze so his words made you giggle. “You’re really leaving?”

He looked down at you, sprawled on your bed. Your face was glowing, you looked ethereal. “You want me to stay?” He asked, wondering where the sassy brat in you went.

You nodded.

He smirked, getting back into bed next to you, “What, now you're obsessed with me?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up. I’m just saying since I might need you again in the morning, you might as well just sleep here.”

He pretended to be hurt. “Wow.” He didn’t mind that at all. He got under the covers with you, “So… is it just the chemicals or are we…?”

You snuggled closer to his side, he wrapped his arm around you, tucking your head under his chin. “Shh, I still hate you.” Your tired, soft voice reminded him of a sleepy kitten.

He held you closer. “Of course.” He looked down at you and saw that you had already fallen asleep on his chest. He cracked a soft smile, whispering under his breath, “Brat.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #sex pollen #tfatws #marvel

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hawkinsindiana · 4 years ago

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were you ever going to tell me?

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER THREE OF TEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: god damn.... it’s been a while. happy fuckin’ new year! hope you enjoy one of the most angst ridden chapters ruby and i have ever written. also pretty sure there’s going to be ten chapters! obvi i will inform you if that changes! hope you all have been staying safe and healthy! mwah!

masterlist

You and Steve haven’t spoken since Friday night when it slipped from your lips how you’ve felt - how you’ve felt about him for a year.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that it’s over. You should’ve known better than to keep something like that from him, that’s overwhelming information for anyone to receive. Even though the words “we’re done” haven’t been said, you’re positive that they don’t need to be.

And Steve - god, he hasn’t known what to think about it all. Unconsciously, he’s spent the last two days reliving everything, and of course you had feelings for him. You threw away so much for him and he rarely returned the favor. He almost hates how devoted you were - no, he doesn’t mean that.

He can’t mean that.

Steve’s wanted to reach out every moment that you two have been apart. He doesn’t blame you for the fact that you haven’t, he can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head; he assumes you’re pissed beyond belief.

The school day’s been tough. Knowing that Steve’s here and inside these walls, it makes you flare up with embarrassment and shame. You can’t wait to get out of here.

Jonathan’s voice startles you a bit when he approaches your locker, just passing by on his way out to say goodbye. Concern blooms from within him at the way you hold yourself, how your eyes can’t seem to focus on anything in particular as you turn the dial.

He clears his throat as he tries to come with something to discuss, “So, uh - do anything else fun over the weekend? Will told me you watched something spooky. Hopefully Dustin wasn’t too annoying this time.”

Jonathan laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “Like remember that time we took them to see Cujo? I felt so bad for the other people in the theater.”

“I, um-“ You stutter over your words as you swing the door open, mind flashing back to events on Friday, “No, I didn’t do anything else this weekend. It was pretty shitty, actually.”

“Bummer,” Jonathan leans against the column as you unzip your backpack and begin to unload your belongings. His brow furrows further once he notices something else is off, until he finally realizes what.

“Steve’s runnin’ late today,” Jonathan checks his watch, “You two are typically joined at the hip right about now.”

And by the way your jaw clenches and your actions freeze slightly, Jonathan can tell he unwillingly struck a nerve.

Your throat starts to close up as you think about him again, feeling the familiar burning sensation behind your eyes, “I haven’t, uh, I haven’t seen him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jonathan watches you intently. He hasn’t seen you like this in a while - not since the day after Halloween. The puzzle starts to put itself together.

He leans in a touch closer; his whispers are covered by the rustling sound of you putting on your windbreaker, “Did something happen? Are you two… you know, good?”

You’re an inch away from whisking Jonathan somewhere else to tell him everything. Over the past few months - but especially over the last couple days - you’ve been tempted to let the secret spill. Keeping all your feelings in, both the good and the bad, doesn’t feel like such a good idea anymore.

You figured that Nancy would be the person you’d tell. While it’d probably be awkward at first, she is the one who told you to go for it, regardless of the past.

But Jonathan’s right here. And someone else has to know.

“You can’t tell anyone else,” You say, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your tone matches his, quiet and hushed underneath the obnoxiously loud commotion of the hallway.

Jonathan’s face twists; both curiosity and concern is laced throughout his expression, “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

The experiences you’ve shared will bond you forever. You’d trust Jonathan with your life - you figure he can handle this piece of information too.

A deep sigh passes from your lips. You don’t know why you’re so scared to admit this.

“Steve and I, we - we’re, uh…” Your hand moves absently in the air as you try to find the words. But when you trail off in search of them, your silence says enough. Jonathan’s brow raises in realization - it all makes so much sense.

And Jonathan goes to answer, mouth opening but he doesn’t get to respond. Instead, his attention is brought to your side. He kicks your shoe to grab your gaze, which moves quickly between Jonathan’s eyes, and where they landed.

You avert your focus from Steve as soon as you see that it’s him. The quick glance is enough to transport you to that night, and the emotions you felt watching him leave.

“Hey,” Steve speaks softly as he comes up beside you, sending a nod and light wave to Jonathan before he leans in a touch closer, “Can we talk?”

Jonathan takes that as his cue to leave - he wishes you both a good-bye. As your friend disappears into the crowd, you bite down onto the inside of your lip.

“Yeah,” Your voice trembles, afraid because this is it. You can’t bring your gaze to meet Steve’s again, “Yeah sure.”

“Let’s uh-” Steve mutters, clearing his throat as you pull the collar of your coat away from your neck. His eyes fly around the hallway, catching sight of the other students that mill around in the space. Not here.

Steve exhales before he speaks, “What do you say we go for a drive?”

��

Every few seconds, Steve’s eyes drift between the empty road and you; your leg bounces wildly in the silence. He’s trying to figure out how to compile his thoughts - he doesn’t even know where to begin.

The longer you both sit without speaking, the more anxious you become. You wish you had an inkling of what he plans to say. You wish you could prepare.

Steve shifts in his seat, voice faltering a bit, “Um, are you... hungry? Wanna grab something?”

God, you hate how considerate he can be.

You lean your head against the hand you propped on the armrest. You haven’t taken your eyes away from the landscape beyond the window since buckling in. It takes every fabric of your being to try and forget that Steve’s beside you; it’s the only way you can attempt to calm yourself down.

It doesn’t help that every time you’re in Steve’s car, you’re surrounded by memories.

Like when you spent ten minutes explaining the chemistry assignment, only for him to grab your notes and toss them into the front seat.

You protested, about ready to smack him when his fingers danced over your jaw, pulling you closer. He kissed you for a moment before muttering against your lips, “I think I’d rather study our chemistry instead.”

You couldn’t take him seriously after that comment; you laughed until your stomach hurt. Steve couldn’t even be offended, the sound of your giggles only brought a smile to his face.

“I don’t what you think is so funny,” He quipped, smirking as he looked back at you, “That was one of my best ones!”

You scoffed, “You say a lot of cheesy shit, Harrington. But that? That was the worst one out of them all.”

Steve didn’t get a chance to reply, because you took his face in between your palms and kissed him. Your love for him is more powerful than all the horrible jokes and puns he could come up with. In fact, they only made you love him more.

How different that moment was in comparison to the one you’re in now. You figure that it’ll take everything you have to try and get over him.

“I’m not hungry,” You say curtly, with a tone much harsher than you intended. You immediately regret it.

“I’m sorry, I just…” The sentence falls short, you’re not sure where it was going. You felt the need to apologize for something. This is your fault, after all.

Steve hears you curse under your breath as you ponder how to continue. Another moment passes.

You sigh before leaning back against the seat, the anger at yourself only grows with each passing second, “God, I fucked up-”

“You’re not the one who fucked up,” Steve interrupts suddenly. He runs his fingers through his hair aggressively, irritated by his own actions from the other night. He never should have left.

“Sometimes I just…” Steve pauses as he stops the car at a red light, “I can’t believe how selfless you are. And I just don’t know how to handle it most of the time.”

“I can’t imagine putting my own feelings aside for a whole year, just for another person’s happiness. I’m not sure if that’s selfish or not.”

Steve takes a deep breath, relishing in the admittance of his guilt. He figures that’s something he should do more often - he carries so much of it with him.

Barb. Nancy. The endless list of others who were touched by his lack of empathy.

And now you. It might be too late to make it up to them, but he can certainly try to make it up to you. Hopefully, you can forgive him in time.

“It was a second. A second, and then I turned and realized how it seemed, that I didn’t want you anymore but I do. God, I do.”

You start tearing up a bit because his words hit you harder than you were expecting, “You turned back?”

Steve looks to you briefly before he nods, “Right as you locked the door, yeah.”

He doesn’t give you time to reply; he continues speaking as the light turns green, “I’m just so lucky to have you. And I’m sorry. I never should have left that day.”

In that moment, the relief floods your face. Once again, you expected the worst - you’ll have to learn to stop doing that. Especially with Steve.

But Steve grows more concerned over what your expression implies. The anxiety you displayed wasn’t for no reason, he figures.

“You weren’t worried about anything besides that, right? You didn’t think I was gonna… break up with you, were you?”

His voice is so weak with emotion because all you’ve shown him has been devotion and love and more affection than he could’ve dreamed of; this is how he pays it back? Your silence is answer enough.

A tear finally rolls down your cheek, but you can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders at these revelations. The only sound is that of the rain that’s begun to hit the windshield. It’s strangely soothing after the previous conversation.

Steve reaches over the center console to hold your hand in his; you laugh and sniffle a bit, wiping your eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “We’re not very good at this, are we?”

Steve's looking a little downtrodden - as you’re sure you are too - but his eyes are shining and he’s grinning, so it can’t be that bad.

“No,” He chuckles too, his thumb tracing over the back of your hand tenderly, “But we’ll learn.”

—

The following weeks are fairly uneventful in regards to your relationship. Since that day, you’ve been more transparent with each other. While you were afraid the truth would only cause pain, it’s actually brought you peace.

It hasn’t gotten any easier to face your brother, unfortunately. Every time you mention that Steve’s picking you up, Dustin’s eyes grow wide.

“Can I come?” He begs. You always sigh - you both know that the answer is yes. Neither you nor Steve can ever seem to say no to Dustin. Especially now that a few of the kids have begun to couple up, your brother is lonelier than ever.

While Steve might love the kid, that doesn’t mean he’s thrilled to see Dustin by your side every time. The glares that Steve sends your brother when he isn’t looking puts you in stitches.

Steve can handle your brother crashing your dates - he figured that might happen. He wasn’t prepared to attempt to avoid all of them.

You were sure that you would finally be able to see this movie together with Dustin at Will’s with the others for the weekend. You leaned into Steve’s side, with his arm over your shoulder, just subtle enough to go unnoticed in the darkness of the theater.

It’s some cheesy film - neither of you knows or even cares what the title is because you get to be that couple at the movies, when out of nowhere-

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell me you were coming, we’ve missed like a quarter of the movie!”

You and Steve scramble to part; Steve goes beet red, hissing under his breath, “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!”

“He wasn’t! I don’t know how he even found out!”

Dustin plops himself in the seat next to yours, popcorn spilling onto the ground, “What did I miss?”

Steve coughs and it brings Dustin’s attention to the blush on his face, “Were… were you guys gettin’ cozy?”

“No!” You both exclaim; several people shush you in the audience.

Dustin’s not sure he believes you. He offers you his box of Milk Duds, “Want some?”

His offer only fuels your annoyance with him further, “No, I don’t want any! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were at Will’s!”

Dustin gestures next to him as he shrugs, dumping the box of chocolates into his tub of popcorn, “Yeah, but we got bored. Mike mentioned the idea, and Max wanted to see this anyways!”

Steve groans when he sees the pack of them settling into the seats next to your brother, each of them with snacks in each hand. Mike tilts his drink towards your boyfriend, his smirk growing with every second. Steve decides telling Mike your Friday night plans is no longer a good idea.

With all of that aside, there is one thing that has been bothering Steve. He decides to inquire about it one night.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Steve questions; his voice breaks the silence. In the darkness, his eyes are trained on the pale color of the ceiling, absently focused on nothing. He doesn’t understand why it’s been on his mind, because it’s not important anymore. You’re together now, that’s all that matters. Right?

But it’s been keeping him awake - the curiosity. He’s not used to that.

“Hm?” Exhausted, that’s all you can muster as a response. You’re tucked against his side - every time he breathes, you rise with the motion. You like the reminder that Steve’s really here, lying with you in the late night’s twilight.

“How you felt. About me.”

Oh.

He doesn’t need to elaborate further because you know how his mind works. It’s likely that he’s been obsessively picking apart your words, trying to find any glimmer of hope; they were devastating to him.

Your chest heaves before answering, almost afraid of giving him the reason. Softening your tone, you finally answer him, “No, no I wasn’t.”

Steve has a thousand thoughts swirling through his head now; it doesn’t make any sense that you’d want to keep yourself from a chance at happiness. He has so many things he wants to tell you, wants to ask you - but he only comes up with one.

“Why?”

It’s quiet, quieter than anything spoken so far. It seems silly, but his question contains so much sadness because he doesn’t understand it. It’s only three letters, but each one makes your body flood with emotion. And even though it’s right there, in the forefront of your mind, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Maybe, if you did...” Steve continues when you don’t, carefully trying to navigate the topic, “We could’ve been happy. Not-not that I’m sayin’ we aren’t now, of course.”

His nerves calm a bit when a light laugh bubbles from you, grinning a bit as you tighten your hold on him - he returns it quickly.

It’s a short moment of joy, because Steve’s brow furrows as his mind keeps running, “But maybe it could’ve been sooner. We could’ve been together.”

Your cheeks flush at this idea he proposes; that maybe he would’ve wanted to be with you earlier if you had just said something. But you’re still not so sure.

“Steve,” You sigh as you pull away from him, sitting up so you can meet his gaze, “You don’t know that. Maybe it had to happen this way.”

He doesn’t like that. Steve wants to believe that out there somewhere, there’s a chance he could’ve been there for you sooner. That there’s a chance you two would’ve been able to avoid all the heartache, the uncertainty, and the anger that you were left with instead.

“Besides,” You shift to cross your legs, further tangling them in the sheets as you ponder, “Do you really think you would’ve left Nancy for me?”

And then Steve props himself up to mirror you, watching how your eyes catch the glow from the streetlight just beyond your window. He’s not sure what his answer would have been, if he really thinks about it.

“You still could’ve said something. I mean, I don’t know what I would’ve done but, I wouldn’t have just…gotten rid of you.”

Steve adjusts to move closer, desperately trying to think of anything he could say to make the situation better. Although he’s not sure he’d ever be able to, not after what he did. Unknowingly, as you’ve pointed out countless times, it doesn’t make his heart ache any less.

“You loved her,” You mutter, voice soft; your gaze cast down towards your hands, “And I didn’t think you’d ever see me differently. If all I was going to be was your friend, then that was better than never having you at all. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was something.”

It’s Steve’s turn not to say anything, because you’re not wrong. It’s true that he didn’t start developing feelings for you until after Nancy had left, and that you were only a friend in his eyes before then. And even though he knows that’s the truth, it still hurts to hear it come from you. It hurts to hear that you never believed you had an opportunity.

“I made the choice not to tell you, Steve,” You finally turn to face him and his soft brown eyes are patiently awaiting your final answer, “I didn’t want it to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He pauses after scoffing slightly, “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose. And we know now that she didn’t love you, but I-” The sentence stops before you can end it, as if it was pulled right from your mouth, like every other time you’ve tried to.

But something’s different now. Your heart isn’t pounding, cheeks aren’t scarlet with embarrassment; part of you wonders if it’s because you think he already knows.

And with another breath, another sigh, you finally finish it.

“But I do.”

You chuckle as you become overwhelmed with your own emotions. You can’t help the smile that begins to creep up over your lips, realizing you’re finally comfortable enough to tell him how you feel.

“I’m so in love with you. And I’d never want to do anything to hurt you. Ever. I always thought that if I told you, it’d do more harm than good so… I chose not to do anything about it. You were happy and god... the last thing I have ever wanted to do was take that away from you. So I figured I would just let it tear me apart until I didn’t feel it anymore.”

You feel so much lighter - every card you’ve ever kept from him is now on the table. There’s nothing hidden anymore.

“You don’t, um-“ You mutter, hands placed gingerly into your lap. Your head shakes - almost in disbelief - you can’t believe what you just admitted to him, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Right away, Steve opens his mouth to respond, but you stop him before he can utter a single word. He’s not even sure what he was going to say, if he’s honest with himself. But you deserve to hear something after that admission, he thinks - it’s the very least he could do.

You know how Nancy’s lie affected him; he’s not required to admit anything that he’s not ready to, “No, it’s fine, Steve. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

How very odd for Steve, to be the one receiving this confession, the admittance of your feelings, your love and knowing that you expect nothing in return. He’s used to being on the other side of it truthfully, pouring out his heart and being left on a line - Nancy's hesitation louder than any words.

Steve doesn’t want to - he knows for sure that you wouldn’t want him to - but he feels guilty. But this love is so different from Nancy’s and he has to learn it all again, until it’s comfortable against the thrum in his heart. You’ve had plenty of time to learn to love him and he? Well, he’s on his way.

— taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want to be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #st fic #steve harrington imagine #st imagine #my writing #almost paradise

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padfootdaredmetoo · 4 years ago

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Tired - Wade X Reader

Reader is a mutant who teams up with Wade & Peter on patrols and is Wade's girlfriend.

After a particularly gruelling night out she gets overwhelmed and Wade is more than happy to provide comfort.

Warnings - Panic & stress are described / Periods & Blood mentioned

*Requests are open if anyone is interested*

It was a long night of trouble. It seems that when it rains it pours in regards to both organized and disorganized crime. They must all get their horoscope from the same paper.

“Friday night will bring great promise for your illegal business affairs. If you have been holding out, make your move, now is the time to go full throttle.”

All the lowlifes seem to flock to the center of the city like moths to a flame. This meant that while we normally work as a team, we had to split up multiple times. If Peter didn’t already look like a Mac truck had run him over & reversed back for a second go, you might not feel so anxious about leaving him.

Wade on the other hand was a tank, you had to worry about the things around him more than the merc himself.

After a particularly awful fight, you really hoped that she would be the final mob boss of the night. Being on high alert for the better part of 8 hours you were starting to feel the night's events take its toll.

Making it to the meet up spot at the top of their favourite building, you laid down on your back feeling relieved you didn’t see anything requiring your attention on the way back.

Looking up at the sky starting to change colour, your mind started to race through everything that had happened. Mind calculating and trying to make sense of every punch thrown. You had gotten your period that morning, almost failed a test at school, and beaten up at least 40 people. Absently you laid your hand on your ribs and flinched at the pain.

“Babe! You okay?!” Wade called out in panic, running across the roof top to you.

“I’m good! I’m good!” You said trying to avoid causing panic. It wouldn't be the first time you got stabbed or shot. You tried to sit up but let out a moan and gave up.

“Everything hurts! But I’m good”

“You don’t seem good. Don’t get me wrong you look hot. But I think it's past your bedtime.” Big arms came and picked you up.

"Are you okay?" you mumbled

"Never better babe, took down the baddies, saved the day, now I get to carry the princess home" You were relived that he came across genuinely happy.

“You don’t have to carry me” You whispered secretly hoping he doesn’t stop.

“Yeah but I want to so hush” His voice sounded even deeper with your ear pressed against his chest.

You loved it when Wade took care of you, but guilt was never far behind those feelings. Peter checked in and told them he was on his way back to the apartment.

The whole ride back you thought about how you were being a burden. Wade never showed it, but how many times have people snapped at you out of the blue. You were a lot to handle. You had made a lot of progress with your mental health and panic attacks in the last 7 years. You didn’t have much of a choice when your mutation causes everything else around you to shake just as hard as your body does.

Wade dealt with things much like Professor Xavier & Erik did. Growing up in the mansion Erik was by far the best person to calm you down. Somehow you always knew deep down he never saw you as a destructive or an evil force. Just someone to be cared for and respected. They never made you feel like a burden.

Now as an adult you decided to take a break from the X-men and joined up with Team Red.

“Sweetums, can you get the door.” Wade brought you back to your surroundings. You reached out and opened the front door. Wade carried you through to his ensuite bathroom and placed you gently on the marble countertop.

You had no motivation to move or speak, it was a relief when Wade started to take off your clothes for you. He looked you over for any notable injuries but so far it was just a lot of bruising.

“Babe, I love you but blue ain't your colour. I shouldn’t have left you on the docs alone” He said in a sad voice, fingers brushing over your ribs and stomach.

“It was fine Wade. The humans were a slice of cake. It was their spooky mutant henchmen that really went for the gold” You mumbled. She had been able to absorb your mutation and use it against you. You gave Wade the gory details while he got himself undressed and started the shower.

“Your shaking.” He stated while pulling you into the shower. He put you directly under the hot spray and held you tightly in his arms.

Now that you weren’t fighting or running to the next fight, you realized the more you calmed down the more worn out you were.

By the way Wade started lecturing about his favourite episode of Golden Girls you knew that he knew you weren’t okay. Looking down at some point you could see blood streaming down your legs.

“Oh. Sorry. I uh-” Embarrassment flooded your face, a sense of anxiety swelling in your tender stomach. Wade only started laughing.

“Babe. I have bled on every surface of this apartment. You bleeding is never going to bother me. Unless you're hurt.” he kissed your forehead and went back to his in depth argument.

Next thing you know he’s drying you off in a towel like you remembered people doing when you were a kid. Like being in a tornado.

He disappeared and came back with one of his shirts and a clean pair of panties. You said thank you as he headed out of the bed room.

You wanted to ask him how you could help him or apologize for getting like this, but all your words got stuck in a tight knot in your chest. Your brain put the night's evening on re-run again just to make sure you didn’t miss all the things you should have done differently. Mostly you just wished you could be sassy like Peter, or funny like Wade was. You cleaned yourself up then flopped onto his bed. Breathing in the scent of his sheets. Even though Wade normally ran hot his bed was always covered with a million of the softest blankets and quilts.

After getting nested and closing your eyes something warm was placed in your lap. It was a nice plate of cheese & chicken quesadillas. Your stomach gave a lurch that informed you that you were very hungry.

Wade hopped up on the bed and sat cross legged scarfing down the too hot meal. Suddenly you were overwhelmed with feelings.

“Wade?” you said shakily. You didn't even know what you were going to tell him. There weren't words to explain how you felt. Happy, loved, safe, tired, angry, scared, embarrassed, ashamed....

“Yeah” He said between mouthfuls

“I’m not doing okay ” You looked over at him and started crying.

“Awe puppy. It’s okay. I’m here. Peter’s down the hall. Matt is downstairs. No one’s gonna hurt you here.” His eyes were filled with an understanding that only made your heart ache more.

“I’m sorry I don’t know why I feel like this” You felt tired and no matter what you thought of you couldn’t stop crying.

“If its about that cat fight earlier, you kicked her ass once. You can do it again.”

You let out a wet laugh and got down your food.

Wade took your plate and put in on the dresser, then flopped onto the bed pulling you down into him.

"I'm sorry. I normally don't cry like this" You said with a heaving chest, pain starting to creep its way into your brain.

"Even if you cried like this all the time I'd still be here loving you." He whispered in a deep voice while settling you into a comfortable spot.

As soon as you were trapped there with a full belly tangled up in a hoard of blankets and Wade's heavy limbs. You felt your body start to relax. He ran his fingers through your hair whispering soft murmurs of encouragement. That you were his and that you were safe.

#wade wilson x you #wade wilson x reader #Requests are open #wade wilson #deadpool

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elianamarie-blog · 4 years ago

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The Things You Give Pt. 11

Happy spooky season, my dear loves! Thank you for being so patient with me as I publish each part. I really hope you enjoy this next part. I love hearing from you guys so feel free to message or leave a comment <3

Steven Hyde x Reader

“Eric!” Y/n said, completely frozen in shock. “W-what are you, uh, what are y-you doing h-here?”

Eric’s face didn’t change as he stared at the couple in front him, wide eyes and jaw slack. So many questions ran through his mind as well as different emotions. Rage, confusion, hurt, shock, and most of all: betrayal. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or strangle them both. His hands started to shake and he swore his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“Uh…it’s not what it looks like!” Hyde said, trying to save the situation. “She was helping me move some boxes and she found some of my nudie magazines.”

“Yeah!” Y/n cut in, catching on. “And I started making fun of him for it and that’s why it sounded like we were talking dirty and that’s why we look like this because of all the moving…and it’s hard work. And we smell like this because we got all sweaty. But nothing else happened!”

Eric couldn’t believe that his best friend and sister would think he was that stupid. He couldn’t even say anything to them. All he could do was calmly walk out through the basement door without saying a word.

“Oh no,” Y/n said under her breath.

“Crap,” Hyde sighed and looked at Y/n who looked like she was about to cry.

Down at the Hub, the couple and everyone else, minus Eric, sat around their usual table as Y/n and Hyde relayed what had happened just a short hour prior.

“He was like a deer caught in the headlights,” Hyde said. “A very angry looking deer.”

“You know what this means?” Donna asked. “This means that he’s going to rant for the next six months and guess who is going to have hear about it?” She pointed a finger at herself. “That’s right, me. Over and over and over again.”

“I know,” Y/n grumbled and hid her face in her hand. “This is so not the way I wanted him to find out. Any of you really.”

“Yeah, I still think I found out the worst way still,” Donna commented and took a sip of her root beer, but not before she shuddered dramatically. “I still have nightmares about it.”

“Yeah it wasn’t a thrill for us either,” Hyde said and took some fries from Y/n’s basket.

“To be honest, I’m kinda scared to see him,” Y/n said after taking a sip of her coke. “He just…didn’t say anything and stormed out.”

“Maybe he didn’t know what to say,” Jackie said. “I mean, he probably was disgusted.”

“Jackie, what the hell, man?” Y/n asked her frustrated.

“No, I mean it’s his sister and best friend. How would you feel if that happened to you?” she defended.

“It did happen to me!” Y/n said. “When Mike McCan’t Keep It In His Pants over here and Easily Spread Butter started sleeping together.”

“First of all, that’s a good burn,” Kelso laughed. “And second of all…I totally nailed your sister! Now if I can nail you, I’d done it with all the Forman girls!”

Hyde didn’t even hesitate to connect his fist to Kelso’s shoulder. Kelso grunted and glared at him before scooting away from him.

“So, how did it make you feel? How did you react?” Donna asked.

“Well, I was beyond angry because I felt so betrayed and disgusted and lied to—ah crap,” Y/n said, realizing what the point was. “Dammit, Jackie, I hate it when you’re right!”

“Which isn’t very common,” Jackie stated, holding up a finger. “But when I am, it’s a big deal.”

“Have you guys seen Eric?” Y/n asked.

“I haven’t,” Donna answered.

“Me either,” Jackie mumbled.

“Nada,” Kelso said.

“Sorry,” Fez finally said, shaking his head.

“Man, I’m kinda freaking out,” Hyde said. “Normally I don’t, especially when it comes to Forman, but you should’ve seen him. I’ve never seen him like this. Normally, he’s like, you know, all squeaky and twitchy, but this time, he was just quiet and walked out calmly.”

“Yeah, I don’t what I’m going to do once I see him,” Y/n said, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Well, you might want to figure it out soon because he’s coming in,” Fez said, panicking a little.

Y/n and Hyde whipped around to see Eric stomping in, but the second he came in and made eye contact with them, the air around them suddenly went still.

“Hi, Eric,” Y/n said softly.

“Hey man,” Hyde said, trying to sound as casual as he could.

The dirty blonde twin looked at them before turning away back into the parking lot.

“Damn,” Kelso mumbled and turned back around to face the group. “He’s really pissed.”

“Trust me guys, I’ve known Eric our whole lives and I’ve never seen him like this,” Y/n said.

“Well, duh, you shared the womb with the guy,” Fez piped up and everyone couldn’t help but roll their eyes. “I guess you can say, you were wombmates.”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at that while everyone else groaned and rolled their eyes.

⧝⧝⧝

The next day, things between the twins and Hyde were still eerily quiet. Eric couldn’t even be in the same room as them. Even at the breakfast table, Eric refused to look up from his plate. Kitty and Red shared a look, knowing something was wrong.

“What’s wrong with you?” Red asked. “You’re usually annoying in the morning. Actually, I can get used to this.”

“Red,” Kitty said sternly and turned to Eric. “Eric, honey, are you okay?”

“M’ fine,” Eric mumbled shortly without looking up and shoveled some eggs into his mouth.

“Did you get into a fight with Donna?” she asked.

“Mom, I said I’m fine. Can we please drop it?” Eric asked, trying to not raise his voice at her.

She held her hands up. “Fine, fine.”

The table went back to ground breaking silence while everyone sat there tense and still, except for Red who was actually enjoying the silence for once.

Outside later in the afternoon, everyone, minus Eric, sat in the driveway, shooting some hoops and talking on top of the Vista Cruiser.

“Where’s Eric?” Jackie asked.

“He’s…somewhere,” Y/n answered and looked towards the house. “I think he’s been hiding in his room all day. Or he just goes where we aren’t.”

“Probably both,” Jackie said and shuddered. “I wouldn’t want to be in his room either.”

Donna laughed. “That’s true. One time I just walked in and he was reading a nudey magazine and I swear I’ve never seen him jump up so fast. It would’ve been funnier if he wasn’t naked.”

Y/n and Jackie shuddered in horror.

“Gross!” Jackie exclaimed.

“What she said,” Y/n said and gagged. “Thanks for that mental image.”

Y/n looked over to Steven, Michael, and Fez playing basketball and made eye contact with Steven. In that split second, Michael took advantage of it and swiped the ball from him. He made a slam dunk and stuck his tongue out at Hyde.

Hyde quickly grabbed the ball and spun around, dodging Kelso’s attempted swipe and slammed it into the basket.

“Hyde: two, Kelso: uno,” Hyde said, smirking and balanced the ball on his hip.

“I love watching you play basketball,” Y/n said, her voice lowering.

“Yeah?” Hyde responded, staring her down.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” she responded before realizing they were in front of everyone and cleared her throat. “Or you know, whatever.”

“Get a room!” Kelso shouted.

“It’s my house!” Y/n argued.

“Exactly! So, you should go find one and get that out of here,” he responded.

“Shut up, man. We used to have to watch you and Jackie make out all the time,” Hyde said.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t weird like this is,” Kelso responded.

Y/n and Hyde rolled their eyes at him before turning back to each other.

“So, have you seen him?” he asked her.

“No, have you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “We’re going to have face him sooner or later.”

“Later,” Y/n answered. “Gives me time to think of ways to calm him down. Or by the time we do face him we’ll be in Guadalajara.”

Hyde shook his head smiling. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Y/n sighed and hopped off the car. “Fine. Let’s go find him.”

“I think I saw him go into the basement earlier,” Fez said and everyone followed Y/n and Steven to go to the basement.

“Can we get some privacy?” Y/n asked when they noticed everyone was following them.

“No way!” Kelso answered. “We aren’t going to miss the show.”

Y/n grunted, feeling annoyed. “Idiots.”

Hyde turned around and slammed his fist into Kelso’s shoulder. “Will you get out of here? All of you!”

“Ow!” Kelso yelled. “Fine!”

Everyone dispersed leaving Hyde and Y/n alone.

Begrudgingly, Hyde and Y/n made their way to the basement where they did, in fact, see Eric sitting on the couch watching TV. But judging his body language, he was tense and still really pissed off.

“Eric?” Y/n called out gently, afraid to scare him off like a stray animal. “How are you doing?” She rounded to the couch to face him and saw his chin resting on his thumb while his index finger held up his cheek. He wasn’t paying attention to the tv and was just sitting there, seething.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye to back to the screen. He stayed silent, refusing to speak to her.

She looked at Hyde desperately, needing help.

“Listen, Forman. We need to talk about this,” Hyde said stepping forward.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, struggling to keep his voice leveled.

“Yes, there is and it’s need to happen,” Steven responded. “I get it, you’re pissed. But this needs to be hashed out so it doesn’t become another Kelso fiasco. So, come on. Let’s talk.”

“Talk about what, exactly?” Eric snapped. “What’s there to talk about? Talk about you screwing my sister? Or that you guys went behind my back and have been lying to me this whole time? Or how ‘bout this, that you went after my twin sister? You know it was bad enough when Kelso did it with Laurie, but Y/N?” He shook his head.

“Eric, please,” Y/n begged. “Trust me, this is not the way we wanted you to find out.”

He jerked his head to look at her. “How did you want me to find out?”

She shrugged her shoulders nervously. “I don’t know, but somewhere along the lines we wanted to tell you.”

“And how did you think I would take that?!” he yelled. “You’re sleeping with my best friend! I can’t believe you guys would do this to me!”

“Okay, first all, Forman, we’re not doing anything to you,” Hyde defended. “In fact, this isn’t about you at all. And second of all, it’s nothing like that. It’s more than that now.”

Eric’s face darkened. “What do you mean by that?”

Hyde cast his eyes down and looked to Y/n before turning his gaze back to Eric. “I love her, man.”

“WHAT?!” Eric practically screamed. He dragged a hand down his face and started to pace behind the couch.

Y/n stayed seated as she watched her brother’s breathing becoming uneven and shaken. She knew that he was about to lose his cool.

“What the hell do you mean you love her?” he continued shouting. “Out of all the stupid crap you’ve pulled, this has got to be the dumbest one yet!”

“What do you mean by that?” Hyde asked offended.

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” he replied. “You stringing my sister along for fun, making her believe that you’re in love with her and then when you get tired of her, you’re going to dump her for the next girl that comes along.”

“That’s what you think I’m doing?” Hyde was getting visibly angry. “You think I would that to her? I’m not freaking Kelso!”

“I don’t see you denying it!”

“Hang on!” Y/n shouted, standing from her seat. “Do you really think I’m naïve to fall for something like that again?”

“Well, you did before,” Eric spat.

Y/n’s blood started to boil. “That’s nothing compared to what Steven and I have! What he is saying is true because I love him too!”

Eric’s face fell and flushed red, clenching his teeth. “How long?”

“How long what?” Y/n asked.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Well, uh, since June,” she answered.

“So, you’ve been dating secretly for four months and never thought of when to tell me?! When were you going to tell me? After you guys secretly got married? Or after the birth of your first secret child?”

“It’s not like we wanted to hurt you,” Y/n defended. “We didn’t plan for anyone else to find out either.”

“Everybody else knows?!” Eric shouted.

“Nice going,” Hyde grumbled, elbowing Y/n’s arm. Gently, of course.

“Uh—yeah. They kind of…found out on their own. Except for Fez. Kelso told him, but other than that, yeah. They caught on.”

“How do you think Mom and Dad are going to take it when they find out their daughter is screwing the town’s rebel?!”

“You mean the one they took in?” she asked angrily. “The one who they love like another son?”

“I’m warning you now when Dad finds out, you’re dead. Both of you. And I mean literally,” Eric warned and continued to pace.

“I know, but this a risk that we’re willing to take,” she said and walked over to where Hyde was standing and wrapped her arms around his waist. Steven wrapped a protective arm around her and held her close. “I love him and he loves me. I’m actually happy.”

“I know this hard for you to get through your thick skull, but I really do love her, man. For the first time ever, I’m happy,” Steven said, more calmly this time.

“Stop saying that!” Eric screeched.

“It’s true, man!” Hyde yelled back. “Will you quit acting like a two-year-old and actually have a decent conversation?”

“You don’t get to tell me how to act when you’ve been going behind my back like this,” Eric growled. “Don’t you dare tell me how to act!”

“This is why we didn’t want to tell you!” Y/n said. “We knew you’d act like this!”

“How am I supposed to act, Y/n? I mean, for four months, four damn months, you’ve been doing whatever you’ve been doing in secret. I can barley understand all of this. I don’t know how the hell you expect me to accept this!”

“Well, you’re gonna have to because this isn’t going to end anytime soon!” Hyde said.

Eric finally stopped pacing and looked Hyde straight in the eye. “You know what bothers me the most? That I gave you more than one chance to tell me the truth and you lied to me. I’m supposed to be your best friend, your brother, and you couldn’t even come to me to say, ‘Hey man, I like your sister and I’m thinking of asking her out. Just thought I’d give you a heads up,’” Eric said, doing an impression of Hyde.

Hyde unhooked his arm from Y/n’s shoulder. “Okay, first of all the impression, uncanny,” he said sarcastically. “And second, even if I did come to you first you still wouldn’t be okay with it.”

“Of course not!” he said. “But it still would’ve been better than being lied to!”

Hyde and Y/n grew quiet and looked at each other. As much as they hated to admit it, he was right. They should’ve at least said something to him before all this.

“You know what? I can’t even look at you two right now,” Eric finally said and walked over to the door, grabbing his coat from the rack.

“Where you going?” Y/n asked, tears beginning to surface.

“Anywhere but here!” Eric shouted and slammed the door on his way out.

“Damn it,” Y/n groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “I knew this was going to blow up in our faces.”

“Let’s just give him some space,” Hyde said and brought her in for a hug. “It’ll be okay. He can’t stay mad forever.”

“What was all that yelling about?” Kitty asked, coming down the stairs.

Y/n pushed herself away from Hyde and stood close to him. “We got into a fight with Eric.”

“You two got into a fight with Eric?” she asked surprised. “Why? What happened?”

“Donna and Eric had a fight,” Hyde and Y/n answered quickly together.

“Nice!” Y/n laughed.

“Alright!” Hyde laughed with her.

Y/n turned back to her mother. “We sided with her and now he’s all pissed at us.”

“What about this time?” Kitty asked.

“I’m not too sure,” Y/n lied. “Something about Star Wars.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” she responded, rolling her eyes. “Those two fight over the dumbest things.”

“You can say that again,” Hyde said, chuckling to himself.

“Well, when Eric gets back, make you sure tell him dinner’s almost ready.” She trotted back up the stairs, leaving the couple along again.

They sighed together and collapsed on the couch next to each other.

“What are we going to do?” Y/n groaned and dropped her head on his shoulder.

Hyde kissed her head and sighed as he put his arm around her. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

“I love you.”

A small smile crept up on his face. “I love you too.”

⧝⧝⧝

The next day at the hub, the gang, again minus Eric, sat around a table eating burgers and fries. Y/n slurped on a milkshake while listening to Jackie’s incessant rant about God-knows-what.

“So, then as Brittany took the position of head cheerleader from me, now the whole squad has been completely ignoring me and talking behind my back. That skank wad,” said Jackie, crossing her arms.

“I thought you quit cheerleading?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah, but then I realized I needed to go back to my natural habitat. Snobby and bitchy.”

“At least you’re honest,” Y/n said..

“So, you talked to Eric, huh?” Donna asked.

“Yeah, and he didn’t take it well at all,” Hyde responded.

“Well what happened?” Fez asked.

Y/n and Hyde went into the details of what happened the night before with everyone’s eyes glued to their faces.

“Man, he’s taking this a lot harder than I thought,” Donna said, leaning back and taking a sip of her soda.

“I’m not surprised,” Kelso piped up. “I mean, he hated it when me and Laurie got together, but yours is way worse.”

Y/n squinted at him. “How is this worse, exactly?”

“Well, me and Laurie were just doing it,” he responded. “You guys actually feelings for each other.”

“No, you idiot,” said Fez. “If he was just doing her he would be angrier because then Hyde would look at her just like a hot piece of meat instead of actually having feelings for her.”

“Thanks, Fez,” Y/n said, happy that someone made that point.

“Or,” Kelso said. “He’s madder because this is a thing that’s going to stick and not just be a fling and get over with.”

“That’s also a good point,” Jackie said.

Y/n gave a look to Donna and shook her head before continuing. “Anyway, I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s nothing you really can do,” Donna responded. “He knows now and there’s nothing you can say or do to make him any less pissed.”

“Except if you two broke up,” Jackie said.

“Oh, I got it!” Kelso said, snapping his fingers. “You two should break up!”

“Kelso!” Hyde and Y/n said in unison.

“No! I mean you two should fake break up and then Forman won’t be so mad at you anymore,” he responded.

“Well, that’s not too bad of an idea,” Jackie said.

“What’s the point of that?” Hyde said. “He’s already pissed off at us for lying to him. What makes you think this one is better?”

“Yeah, good point,” Fez said. “Well, then Donna is right. There’s nothing you can do.”

Y/n sighed and leaned back, rubbing her temples. “This sucks.”

“I know, but he’ll come to accept it,” Donna said. “Especially if this is going to last.”

“What Miss Kitty and Mr. Red?” Fez asked. “Red is a fireball. He’s going to lose his crap.”

Everybody gasped.

“Red!” Kelso shouted. “I didn’t even think about him!” Then he started laughing. “You’re so dead, man.”

Hyde glared at him. “You think we didn’t think of that?”

“Well, we’re eighteen now. He can’t tell us what to do and who to be with,” Y/n said, turning to Steven. “He’s going to have to get over it.”

“Yeah, after he sticks his foot in your ass,” Donna laughed.

“I’ll take it,” Hyde said and put his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll take anything for you.”

Y/n giggled as everyone awe’d at him.

“Shut up!” Hyde yelled, but a smile formed on his face anyway.

A ding at the door caused the group to turn around. Zack stood at the entrance and made his way over to Y/n once he made eye contact with her. Y/n internally groaned.

“So, you’re with the school burnout now huh?” Zack mocked. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to find someone better than me.”

Y/n blinked at him. “Great. You’re back. Don’t you have to be annoying somewhere else? Like in college? Or did you fail and disappoint them too?”

“BURN!” Kelso shouted, laughing along with the rest of the group.

“I didn’t fail out,” he defended. “They kicked me out.”

Y/n laughed. “For what? For spiking the sorority girls’ punch?”

“No,” he said, growing frustrated at everyone’s laughter. “I broke into the girl’s locker room and drilled a hole through the wall.”

Y/n through her head back and laughed. “Yeah, you know what, I upgraded. And my guy maybe a ‘burnout’ but at least he doesn’t cheat on me with some skank.”

“I only cheated because you wouldn’t put out,” he said, his cheeks puffing out.

“Yeah, get lost, Loser,” Y/n said, throwing the word back in his face.

He pfft’d and smacked Hyde in the arm. “Good luck with this bitch, man.”

Hyde glared at Zack before slowly standing and winding his fist back and connecting it to his nose. Zack cried out and held his nose in his hand.

“What the hell, you prick?!” he shouted.

“Call my girlfriend a bitch again and I’ll make sure you’ll be the first person to touch his chin to his ass!” Steven shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”

Zack didn’t respond as he scrambled out of the building.

“That was awesome!” Donna cried out, laughing.

“Yeah, that was,” Kelso said, smiling. “I’ve never heard a guy scream like a bitch before.”

“Me neither,” Y/n chuckled and looked to Hyde. “By the way, that was so hot.”

“I gotta protect my girl,” he said and leaned in for a kiss. Y/n smiled into the kiss as she placed her hand on his face, scratching his sideburns.

“Oh, God,” Eric called out from the door, feeling disgusted seeing them being affectionate.

Hyde and Y/n pulled apart and looked at Eric.

“Hi,” Y/n said. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come down and see my dear sister with our dear friends, to try and maybe to hang out and get some normalcy, but seeing you two makes me want to vomit.”

“Oh, come on, Eric,” Donna said. “It’s not like this Kelso and Laurie.”

“That’s what I said!” Hyde said, trying to deflate the situation.

“Besides, they’re kind of cute together,” Donna said with a smile on her face. She looked to Y/n who mouthed a ‘thank you’ and winked at her. “You can’t stay mad at them forever.”

“Maybe not, but I can for a really, really long time,” he answered and was about to walk out the door when Y/n stopped him.

“Eric, wait no,” she said and got up, grabbing his hand. “Please don’t go. Sit with us.”

“Look, Y/n. I can’t. You have no idea how angry I am that you lied to me. We’re twins and we’re not supposed to have any secrets between us. We share everything, but you know the thing that really hurts the most? It’s that you felt like you couldn’t come to me at all. I can understand Mom and Dad, especially Dad because he’s well, scary, but me? I thought we were best friends and you trusted me enough to come to me.”

Tears filled Y/n’s eyes. “Eric, I do.”

“Clearly not enough,” he said, hurt laced in his face and drew his hand back from hers. He looked to Hyde who looked like he felt deep guilt. “We’re supposed to be best friends and you couldn’t even tell me the truth the first time. You clearly don’t care about anyone else but yourselves.”

“Eric, that’s not fair!” Y/n cried.

“You want to talk to me about fairness?!” he raised his voice again. “This isn’t fair. None of this is fair! It wasn’t fair that you went behind my back and started doing it! Or, that you couldn’t even come tell me that you have fallen in love with each other! That’s not fair.”

He walked out the Hub, leaving Y/n in tears. She sat back down and rested her head in the crook of Hyde’s neck, face turned away from the group so they couldn’t see her tears.

Hyde wrapped his around her waist and held her close, trying his best to comfort her.

“I’m sorry Y/n,” Donna said. “I’ll talk to him later.”

“But he’s right,” Y/n croaked out and turned her face back to them. “This isn’t fair to him and we did him wrong.”

“But you can’t help how you feel,” Jackie said sweetly. “It’s not like you did this to get back at Eric for something. You two truly do love each other and if he cared about you, he wouldn’t be so angry.”

“No, he has every right to be,” Y/n said, wiping her eyes. “Yes, we have strong feelings for each other, but we still went behind his back and betrayed him. He has every right to feel the way he does.”

No one else knew what to say, but to look at each other.

“I gotta go,” Y/n said and ran out before anyone else could see more tears.

“I should go too,” Hyde said. “This is my fault too.”

He got up and walked out after her, feeling the same guilt as she did.

Taglist:

@lieswithoutfairytales @mdittyz123

#Steven Hyde #steven hyde x reader #that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Eric Forman #Donna Pinciotti #Michael Kelso #jackie burkhart #fez #fez x jackie #i just love when fez sings this because it's so cute haha

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anonthenullifier · 4 years ago

Note

Fic request for touristy Maximoff family? (bc Vision's 'drunk' awkwardness in Wandavision ep 2 where he apologised to a handrail, is something that I as a Brit intensely and deeply relate to, and it reminded me of them hiding out in the UK in IW which also made me v emotional- they deserved better!)

Thanks for the ask! They really did deserve better and hopefully might get some happiness at some point. I hope you enjoy their family day trip!

***

“Where are the witches?”

Vision folds the map into a square and slides it back into his fanny pack, nonchalance embedded in the action “Oh, there are no witches.”

This isn’t what Billy wants to hear, “You said this is Witch House.”

“I did, yes.”

The conversation circles back around, “Then where are the witches?”

“Well technically there were never any true witches here in the first place.” Billy stares at Vision, betrayal drooping his mouth down into a deep and unforgiving frown. A history lesson isn’t going to save the moment, and yet her husband tries, determined to share the two weeks worth of research he’s conducted since they decided on the trip. “It is called Witch House because it was owned by Judge Jonathon Corwin who presided over some of the witch trials. Now, though some like to say witchcraft was rampant at the time, it in fact was -”

“But I wanted witches.” This is true, it was Billy’s only request—spooky witches to be precise. “You said there’d be witches.”

Tommy isn’t fully invested in the trip, having voted to go to an amusement park for their fall get-away, but he never passes up an opportunity to pile onto a complaint. “Yeah, where are the witches, dad?”

“Salem has far greater historical value than just the witch trials.” Not a smart tactic, which Vision realizes as soon as he says it, face scrunching up at the misstep while the gears in his eyes rotate furiously to the left signifying he’s attempting to figure out how to regain their confidence. “Um, from my understanding there may be some modern day witches in the village who provide tours and demonstrations. We can stop by once we have seen everything.”

This earns some consideration from their ten year olds. “Real witches or like herbal tea witches?”

Tommy piggybacks on his brother’s question, “Will they turn Billy into a frog?”

“No one is being transformed into an amphibian,” Vision reassures them.

“Lame.” Only a half hour in and the L word is out in the open, a new record for the Maximoffs.

Wanda rolls her eyes at the rebuttal and studies the building in front of them, a foreboding tiered facade with black wood trim that would fit right into a horror movie. Briefly she wonders if it was always black or if that was added to enhance the supernatural identity the town developed once they realized the tourism potential of their sordid past. If ominousness is what sells here, she knows how to reclaim their trip. “Vizh,” her husband meets her gaze,the exasperation of parenthood making him seem particularly desperate for her thoughts, “There was at least one witch you can tell them about.” Confusion crinkles his brow, “Agatha.”

Realization dawns, as if he had blocked out all memories of dear old Agatha. “Ah yes Agatha Harkness.” The name falters on his lips, uncertainty making residence in his body with the wringing of his hands. “I am not sure they are old enough to hear about-“

“You owe us a witch, dad.” Tommy is very dedicated now, a grave frown on his face and an arm wrapped tenderly around his twin’s shoulders. “Billy deserves a witch.”

Vision folds, shoulders inching down in submission of their desires. “Agatha Harkness,” it is not that they have had bad experiences, per se, with Agatha, but she always intersects with their lives at moments of both wonderful highs and crippling lows, which is why Vision seems to weigh her name so heavily. “You will not see the name Agatha Harkness in any of the books about Salem.” Wanda can feel Vision mentally shut the books of information he’d acquired for the day. “She was a witch, a real one and very powerful as well as very old.”

“How old?” Billy’s eyes are shining at the change in tone for the trip. “Like ancient?”

“Positively ancient.” An enormous grin erupts on Billy’s face, while Tommy stands unusually rapt. “There are accounts of her presence all the way back to 10,500 BC, there are even rumors she was involved in the lost city of Atl-”

A cloyingly sweet and chipper “Excuse me,” breaks the story and the atmosphere. The voice belongs to a short, blonde haired woman in a puffy vest and flannel shirt, “I couldn’t help but overhear your tour and was hoping we could join.” The we is a man a few years older than the woman, his gray mustache thick enough to hide whatever his feelings are about the request.

Vision’s lips part and then close a few times, hand half raised as he processes the intrusion. “Oh um, this is a uh private tour,” a nervous, placating smile tries to shoo away the couple. It doesn’t work, neither does his, “Terribly sorry for the confusion.”

Typically on their trips people come up to them because they are Avengers, but Wanda doesn’t detect the same motivation from the couple, neither seeming to actually recognize them. The husband appears a bit concerned about Vision’s appearance while the wife assumes it is for show, “Oh well, you just seem dressed the part, you little devil,” Wanda tries not to laugh, something Tommy fails at, chuckling at the way the comment wilts his father further. Whoever this woman is ignores the reaction, soldiering on ahead as if it is her job to get what she wants. “And you are giving this beautiful family such a lovely tour. We’d love to join in.”

Vision weighs his response, eyes first surveying the very clearly matching sweatshirts they are wearing, this year’s travel theme the Maximoff Bunch. Each of them has a navy sweatshirt with Cambria font declaring their role-- Vision’s sweatshirt (that is real clothing, not molecularly manipulated so that he has a keepsake from their trip) is emblazoned with Papa-ya, their less than thrilled 10 year olds are sporting ones labeled Bil(ly)berry and Tommy-rillo, and Wanda’s deviates a bit with Mom-osa, Vision crushed to not find a fruit close enough to mom to complete the bunch. This should be enough to convince this woman that they are all a family and not a tour group...and yet she just keeps smiling sweetly at Vision until he gives in. “We’re happy to pay.”

Now Vision turns towards Wanda, searching for a response or a rescue. She doesn’t get a chance to help, Tommy speaking up first, “Fifty a person fair?”

“Thomas I do not-”

“Completely fair.”

The glare from Vision assures their son that they are going to talk about this on the ride home, Tommy’s impulsivity almost always at odds with Vision’s desire for control and planning.

Vision turns towards the couple, hands clasped tightly in a sign that another apology is on it’s way but it is stopped by Billy recentering their attention to what is most important. “How can Agatha be so old?”

Faced with numerous smiling and eager faces, Vision seems to accept his newfound role with a deep, soundless sigh, “Well, she is a very powerful witch, one who even survived the Salem Witch Trials.”

“No way!”

“Very much so. Let us return to 10,500 BC first.” Now that he is free to regale them with history, albeit seasoned with a heaping amount of occult, Vision finds his element. They learn about how Agatha came to be in Salem, about the Witch House and the judge who dwelled there, of the frenzy that occurred in people pointing fingers at anyone who was suspicious or merely disliked. The boys are enraptured listening to the tales of injustice and prejudice and, as they move from the Witch House to the hill on which many witches were burned at the stake, their little tour group increases in size, a trail of eight people joining on.

Surprisingly her husband takes it all in stride, welcoming each new person and asking their name. What really seems to excite Vision is when their crew asks questions. One of the newbies stops him during his soliloquy on what behaviors were deemed witchy. “Is it true that witches danced naked?”

Vision’s charm is on full display, lips cocked to the side as he shakes his head at the idiocy of the past, “Merely a salacious rumor because titillation is more convincing than honesty.”

A voice from the back of the group declares, “That’s because history is written by lonely men.”

Without missing a beat, her husband nods appreciatively at the running commentary from this particular guest, “A very astute observation, Taiyah, yet again. Now let’s turn our attention back to the Court of Oyer and Terminer.”

As the tour keeps moving through the harrowed landmarks, Billy is at the front, always just to the side of Vision, soaking in every word of information. Tommy, on the other hand, oscillates between the front and the back, eventually deciding to stick with Wanda. “This is starting to get a bit lame.”

“Your father and brother are having fun.”

His annoyed sigh seeks companionship, which she won’t give because she’s enjoying herself as well. “It’s just so much talking.” It is more than Tommy is ever willing to listen to, his mind and body always seconds, if not hours, ahead of them all. “Where’s the excitement?”

Sweeping the environment is a key aspect of missions and right now Wanda has assessed that the majority of the group are crowded around a tree, listening to the story of how Agatha supported parts of the trials out of a need to cull the weaker witches and remove her competition, it is a dark aspect of the tour, barely a sound existing to interfere with Vision’s explanation of the witch’s intentions. “Watch this.” Tommy stares at Wanda as she lifts her hand, scarlet undulating around her fingers, and then she flicks a finger, the tree trembling mightily despite no breeze to speak of. Several people gasp, one woman screams, and instantly Vision locks eyes with her, not one to ever be deceived by her influence. She expects irritation at disrupting his story, but instead there’s a little spark of mischief in his swirling irises, an almost imperceptible uptick to the left corner of his mouth that takes all her energy not to go and enjoy.

“Don’t you all tell us not to do that?” Tommy’s voice is bated, eager to figure out if their limits on use of powers in public is about to be lessened.

“No one goes on a witch tour without hoping for a little bit of magic.” The shit eating grin on his face is almost a perfect replica of Pietro’s and one she can’t help but mirror. “Just watch and learn.”

***

By the time they reach the Witch Village, the agreed upon conclusion of their tour, Vision can’t get a word in edgewise, the entire group riled up, swapping observations of the branches that moved without wind, the sense of dread that engulfed their minds at the guilty verdict of Agatha, or the heat they felt when the pyre was verbally lit. It’s this sense of awe that makes not a single person listen to Vision’s insistent, “Sorry, please, I do not want your money. Please, keep it for yourselves.” Instead of listening to him, everyone shoves their payment into the cup that Tommy so helpfully procured from the concession stand nearby.

Once all the people are gone, it is just the Maximoffs once again. “Was that sufficient in witches?”

Billy’s enthusiastic nods sends his hair bobbing with glee. “So awesome.”

“I have a question,” this comes from Tommy, who has already bought an ice cream cone with their earnings, the swirl of chocolate and vanilla towering up from his fist, “would we have been considered witches back then?”

“Well,” Vision’s arm snakes around her waist, pulling her until their hips are touching, the pride in his voice wrapping her even more snugly with his affection, “your mother already is a stunning one.”

“Gross.”

“And I no doubt would be viewed as inherently supernatural and thus evil,” something that is said with levity instead of the usual depths of despair that accompanies Vision’s grapple with humanity. “The two of you would also be suspect, simply from your parentage but also, well-”

“So the answer is yes?” Vision concedes with a nod. “Great, wanna go take a picture in the arm thingies over there?” They follow the ice cream cone as it points them towards a small square where people are taking turns putting their heads and hands through the holes.

“That would be a pillory,” Vision helpfully defines, but neither of their sons are listening, having already taken off to join the line for the photo op.

Wanda takes their brief solitude to encircle his waist with her arm, squeezing him tight and kissing his shoulder. “You have fun?”

His arm moves to rest along her shoulders, “Surprisingly yes, it was a bit exhilarating to have a truly captive audience.”

Wanda hugs him tighter, “Good.” Billy and Tommy wave them over, only ten people now ahead of them in line. They look so carefree, jostling each other with whatever it is they are bickering about now, their happiness with the day unashamedly stitched into every movement. Given who they are, Wanda is glad they are alive now and not during a time of greater hatred. Which brings her mind back to the woman who made the tripa success. “Vizh?”

“Hmm?”

“When do you think we should let them meet Agatha?”

They stop, Vision sometimes unable to think and walk at the same time, and the toil in his mind is palpable even without her powers. “I believe,” he too takes in their sons, a fluttering smile on his lips the longer he stares, “it might be best she remains a story for a little bit longer.”

#vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet vision #wandavision #billy kaplan #tommy shepherd #the maximoffs #ask anon #replies #mine

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rwbyvein · 4 years ago

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 707: Briar Patch: Part III/III

The airship landed in the clearing, dwarfing the one already there. The back opened and a line of Atlasian Knights stepped out, followed quickly by General Ironwood. Soon after appeared Taiyang and Raven.

"Dad!" Ruby exclaimed, and Petal Burst to her father.

"Uh, dad?!" Jaune shouted, as he walked up.

"Heyya, kiddo!" Tai replied, waving at him with his free arm.

"Raven." Yang said.

"Yang." Raven said.

"Couldn't you?.." Taiyang tried to ask Yang, but quickly gave up.

"She's made her choice," Raven said, "and I respect that."

Taiyang looked at her nervously, but it did sound like genuine respect.

"So?," Raven asked, "I'm here to guard Cinder?"

"Yep!" Ruby shouted. "We'll be a family again!"

"You maybe didn't think this might cause some problems?" Yang asked.

"I know you two haven't been getting along," Ruby said, "but..."

"Ruby?" Weiss asked her.

"Yes?" Ruby asked, and Weiss leaned in to whisper into her ear. Ruby developed a full-face blush and hid under her hood.

"Ahhh, young love." Raven dejctedly said, and then turned to Taiyang, "Remember when we were like that?"

"No." Taiyang replied, which caused Raven to start snickering.

"Alright, so, when we get there, where are we going to keep them?"

"We have a dungeon!" Nora exclaimed, "It's really spooky, though we couldn't find the ghost."

"I had a feeling..." Ironwood stated.

"Oh?" an intruiged Raven asked.

"It came with the castle." Jaune stated.

"I'm sure nothing kinky happens there." Raven stated.

"Well," Yang said, "not now that we have prisoners." This caused Weiss to let out a loud, drawn out scoff. "What?" Yang asked, "Oh, shit!"

"I know you're an adult now," Taiyang said to her, "but you don't have to swear."

"And you can be as boring as your father." Raven said to Yang.

"You don't swear, either, Rae." Taiyang said to her, and she developed a wicked smile.

"I find swears imprecise."

"And you know," Taiyang sensually said to her, "I can keep your attention."

Raven nervously looked about.

"Alright," Blake stated, "this is going all kinds of places, but we're here for a reason."

"Jaune's an Earl!" Nora exclaimed, "Or something."

"Pardon?" Ironwood asked, and Jaune pulled the Letters-Patent from behind his back and showed it to Ironwood. "The?, Black Hart?" Ironwood asked.

"Did I hear that right?!" someone called out, and then turned to see Oscar with glowing green eyes and spinning his cane as he stepped down the ramp from the airship.

"Ozpin?" Ironwood asked.

"Oz will do." Ozpin stated, "Is it true that this letter is from the Black Hart?"

"You know about it?" Ironwood asked him.

"He is older than the earliest Humans." Ozpin stated, "Older than even the Grimm. He is the beast of the Woods of the Beast, and has so far kept Humans out of his realm. It is unthinkable for this to occur." He walked up and read the paper, "Indeed. The Black Hart has endowed him with a lordship."

"Told you!" Nora exclaimed.

"Ther is a problem." Ironwood stated, and crossed his hands behind his back, "Other than the fact he was given it by a being we didn't know existed, we no longer have nobles."

"We could still take this as recognition of the land." Ozpin stated, "the Brothers know that no one else could use it."

"The Atlas Council..." Ironwood tried to say.

"And who?," Weiss asked, "unprecedentedly, has two seats on the council?"

Ironwood stared at her with an unemotional face. "And exactly what am I going to tell them?" Ironwood asked.

"Perhaps?," Ozpin asked, "that castle you gave them came with the surrounding land, as most castles do."

Ironwood stared unemotionally at Oscar, and then the paper, and then Weiss. "I'll see what I can do."

"Now, dad," Ruby stated, "where's Uncle Qrow?"

"Soon to be at your castle." Raven stated. "When he gets there, we'll..."

"Open up a portal!" Ruby exclaimed.

Ironwood looked at the paper before looking back up at the collected. "Did you want me to stay around?"

Everyone just stared at him. Ren waited until it was apparent no one else would speak, "The question seems genuine." Another pregnant pause followed.

"I'm sure," Weiss said, "having two seats on the council, he has more than enough to occupy his time."

Ironwood handed the paper back to Jaune, "Enjoy your new forest." He turned back to the airship, and the Knights started filing back in. Oscar's bearing changed.

"Hey, little buddy." Jaune said to him.

"Hey, Jaune." Oscar nervously said to him.

"How's it going?" Jaune asked.

"We're talking a lot more." Oscar stated, "It's really helping me to come to terms with what's happening."

"I'm sorry..." Jaune said to him.

"I know." Oscar stated, "But it's not your fault, it's not Ozpin's fault, it's not my fault. This is what The Brothers did to us. But I'm not going to die. Every generation of Oz is different from the one before. We'll join together and become a new Oz." Oscar said, and then shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice, but I can already feel us growing together. His lifetimes of wisdom... takes a lot of getting used to. But, you guys are married now, and," he said, and looked at the kneeling CME, hands tied behind their backs, "yeah. I really don't know what to say to that." He then looked back at Jaune, "If you want, I could ask Oz."

"You've got more than enough to worry about." Jaune stated.

"You don't know how much he worries about you." Oscar stated. "But at this point, all we can do is have faith in you. He has lots of that."

"Well, that's good to hear." Jaune stated, "I guess."

"You are one of the shining lights the world has left." Oscar stated, "Sorry, it's just that he has seen a LOT of things not work over the years, and really doesn't have much left to rely on."

* * *

Raven opened up the portal. "Alright," Jaune said to CME, as they stood up, "When you get to the other side, tell Qrow to step out of the cage."

"Does he really expect us to do that?" Emerald asked.

"If we ever want them to trust us, I think we have to." Mercury replied.

"Now-now." Cinder said to them, "We need to be on our best behaviour."

"Ehn?" Yang asked, and they looked at her, "You might want to aim a bit higher than that." Emerald gave her a sour look, Mercury smiled, and Cinder had a weak smile.

* * *

The portal opened into the dungeon, with Cinder, then Emerald and Mercury walking through. Cinder then augustly turned to Qrow. "They wanted you to leave the cell." Cinder said to him. Qrow turned into a crow before hopping through the bars and looking at her quizzocally. Another portal opened, with Raven, then Taiyang, followed by Jaune, RWBY, NR, Ilia, and Aurora.

"If you would excuse me?" Aurora asked, and Jaune nodded. Weiss stood at attention in agreement.

"Got somewhere important to be?" Yang asked her.

"I have shopping to do!" Aurora excitedly stated.

"She was interupted." Blake stated.

"Yeah," Yang sarcastically said, "not like anything more important happened."

"You are combatants," Aurora said to her, "It is my job to support you to the best of my abilities."

"Let the little bit go." Jaune said, and Yang looked at him with a bit of an angry look.

"Jaune can call me that." Aurora said with a smile, and then turned to Raven, giving her a sour look before turning to walk up the stairs. Raven watched as she climbed up the stairs.

"It's rare to see a woman so fiercely determined." Raven stated. "I can see what you like about her." She then looked at Yang.

"She is like REALLY good at her job." Yang said, "I'll give her that."

"I hate to interrupt," Cinder stated, and all eyes pointed at her, "but now that we're in our cells, what do we do next?"

"Are we really going to stay here?" Emerald asked.

"It is a prison cell." Mercury said to her.

"Dungeon." Cinder corrected.

"The plan was for them to earn our trust." Ren stated.

"And?," Emerald replied, "how do we do that?"

"That, I'm afraid," Ren said to her, "is beyond me."

"Trust takes time to build," Cinder stated, "so why don't we just settle in and see what happens."

"And what do you know about building trust?!" Nora asked her.

"I'm good at exploiting it." Cinder stated.

"So?!," Nora asked, "how do we know you are not going to, uh?"

"Exploit us?!" Ruby asked.

"I am." Cinder stated, "I made it clear what my goal is, here. But the advantage you guys get with me here is that you don't have a Maiden throwing fireballs at you."

"Did she really say that?!" Yang asked.

"I did." Cinder said with disturbing glee.

"Perhaps time is exactly what we need." Ren stated.

Raven stared at the cell, and Qrow stepped up to talk to her. "I'm pretty sure we'll hear if they break out of their cell." He then turned to RWBY + JNIR, "So, by the way, where is the key?"

"What key?" Ruby asked.

"The key to the cell?" Qrow continued.

"We've been here a few days." Jaune stated, "Did you think the dungeon was going to be the first thing we worked on?"

Qrow looked at Yang. "What?" Yang asked him.

"Two people on watch at a time." Jaune stated, and shrugged. "Who wants first watch?"

"Oh!" Nora said, and eagerly lifted her hand.

"I suppose I will stay as well." Ilia added.

"I don't know about you?" Weiss asked, "But that battle has made me perhaps a bit famished."

"That does sound like a great idea." Yang said.

"And then," Ren said to her, "You can show your parents around the castle."

"I'll show Uncle Qrow!" Ruby eagerly exclaimed.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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nachtai-ish · 5 years ago

Text

Green (And Red) Lights (Spooky X Prophet!Reader One-Shot)

Pairing: Oscar Diaz x Prophet!Reader Summary: Christmas in Freeridge leads to explanations and realizations. Warnings: ...General Harsh Words, Roughness, Mentions of Unsavory things. Angst. (Author’s Note: This is a continuation of my previous Spooky one shots in which reader is a prophet affiliated woman. This one shot is different because instead of dealing with past Oscar, this is more current. If you would like to put a time stamp on this, this would be the following December (obviously) after Olivia’s Quince. Happy Christmas in July! Oh there was supposed to be some smut...cause these two have been wanted to f*** but all I get out is angst. So look forward to smut in the future for these two. Uh Also, did not proofread. I always spell Ceasar wrong. Uh. yeah.)

(Join the taglist gang here!)

Freeridge was warm, warmer than you had grown accustomed to back east. When you stepped out of your old childhood bedroom in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt with only a light jacket on your arms, it was a big reminder that you were at home… not that you needed any more reminding.

As you traveled up the hall, you smiled at the warm sound of Donny Hathaway as it filled you with Christmas cheer. When you reached the living room, you found your mother dancing with Bobby, her boyfriend of over three years now. They laughed and giggled, stepping side to side with each other unaware of you watching them. They were in their own world of bliss.

When your mother laid eyes on you, she smiled warmly at you, and held out a hand that you took, spinning around with her and Bobby for a moment before breaking the chain and going into the kitchen.

“You going somewhere baby?” She asked as you pulled out two plates that you had packed earlier in the day. You looked at her and she sighed, the joy wiping away from her face.

“No.” She said.

“I’ll be quick. I’m just going to leave it on the doorstep and come back. 10 minutes.”

“No baby.” She walked into the kitchen with you putting her hand on the foiled plate. “It’s not safe.”

“Mom, it’s Freeridge. Nothing is safe.” You smiled. “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

She grabbed your shoulders and turned you to her, looking you straight in your eyes. “He put a green light on you.”

You gulped, looking at her for a moment before breaking eye contact with her. You hadn’t forgotten that fateful day that you and Oscar had stopped being you and Oscar. The day where you had made the choice to reject the life you were living now in order to spend the life you wanted with him. It was also the day where he rejected your choice, and told you that if you would not go to school that you wouldn’t be able to show your face around Freeridge. He might not have said the words ‘green light’ specifically but it was clear in the tone of his voice.

“…He didn’t say green light.” Your voice was quieter, broken still even after three years. You fought the tears in your eyes as you looked at her again. “It’s been three years…and this is tradition.”

“Fuck tradition. He broke any and all tradition when he threatened your life.”

You wiped your eyes and broke away from her hold, going to the kitchen to get two glass cokes, the ones with the real sugar that Ceasar liked. “I didn’t say nice things either.”

And you hadn’t. You had hurled daggers at his back, wishing him death in so many words. You didn’t mean it of course but he had hurt you so bad and fuck, your heart was bleeding.

Still bled.

“He deserved it.” She shifted as you moved to the table where there was plastic silverware waiting for you to grab. “…Listen, I was grateful…I am grateful for him making a hard decision for you…but there’s no way in hell I’ll ever forgive him for putting a target on your back.”

“It was a threat. There’s no way that Oscar would ever let someone hurt me…or hurt me.” You sounded sure even though you weren’t as sure as your voice sounded. “It worked. I’m almost done with my business degree and I’m thankful. He saved me from a childish mistake even if his tactics were cruel.”

Your mom walked over to you again, hugging you from the side, kissing the side of your face. “I know you loved him darling. I know you still love him…but you have to see him for who he is. He’s not the same boy that you spent so much time with all those years ago. He’s damn near the leader of the Santos. And take it from someone who knows a little bit of something about gang members…they don’t go back on their words.” She kissed your temple again and moved away from you, walking back towards the warmness of Christmas soul music and a love all of her own. “I can’t stop you. You’re an adult…but I hope you don’t get hurt. And if you’re gone for longer than 20 minutes without calling me, I’m calling the police.”

The Diaz house was not like you remembered. Well, you could still recognize it which was why you had made it to the house and was standing on the sidewalk with the two plates like a fool. However, there were a lot of new additions. The house had gone to ruins in the years that you had been gone, there was trash in the yard, places where the grass had died because of something laying there and not moving, and there was a couch right in the center of it all.

This was not the house you were familiar with. Not the house that you made your way to nights that you felt too lonely to sit at home, the house that opened it’s doors and welcomed you to comfort from Oscar and conversations with his brother. This was now the Santos house.

And you were not a Santo.

You stiffened your back and walked forward before you lost your nerve, stepping over bottles and trash, to get to the front door. You sat the plates on the porch and knocked three times, once for the father, the son, and the holy mother before turning around to walk away back to your car.

You felt him behind you before you could even get off the porch, his hand grabbing your wrist and tugging you backwards. You nearly yelped but he was quicker, covering your mouth. You knocked over the bottles, they made a cracking noise that you barely heard through the closed door.

Oscar was closer than he had been to you in three years, hands on the side of your head pressed against the door, mad face panting over yours. You looked up at him, making out his features in the dark. He had grown harder, meaner in the face over the years but he was still handsome, and that made your already quick pulse beat faster.

“…Are you crazy?” He bit out, voice low in anger. “Sneaking around blocks that you don’t belong on?”

“I didn’t sneak anywhere. I just…” You stopped. “Fuck it. I’ll go home. Let me out. Merry Christmas.”

“It’s 12:20.”

“Well Merry Late Christmas. Let me out now.”

“You can’t leave. Not right now anyway. You were spotted.”

You searched his eyes but found no lie, no exaggeration. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“…You can’t be in Santos territory, Y/n.”

Your head spun, your heart broke, your blood boiled. Oscar really had put a hit out on you. He had really, no he really had rather you been dead than with him. You nearly burst out in tears and would have if your anger had not taken over. “You...put a green light on me?”

Oscar looked down at you, “…I told you I would.”

You slapped him, hard. The noise echoed in the nearly empty home, he moved with the slap, his face staying of to the side as the sting went through him. You breathed hard as you watched him for how he would react. He chuckled a little, rubbing his cheek.

“Damn. That almost hurt.”

You growled a little jumping towards him, only being held back by his two hands holding your arms away from his person. “I can’t believe you, you bastard. What did I do to you? I never did anything to you!” You yelled struggling in his grip, trying to express your anger with more than just words.

“You made a choice…you needed to make another choice. …Maybe it was stupid but it was what I thought of.” He gritted out, pushing against you.

“Get your fucking hands off me.” You snatched away from him breathing hard and pressing yourself against the wall, as far away from him as you could. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Oscar nodded, “Good. I don’t want to.”

“Bastard.” You chuckled. “I can’t believe…” You chuckled again wiping your eyes. “I can’t believe I ever thought you cared about me. You’re just heartless. You’re cold, and mean and you deserve whatever it is you get in life.”

His face changed at that, he turned towards you, “If I was heartless, I would have allowed the green light to still go on…but I ended it. I ended it as soon as you left for school. I never…I would have never allowed someone to hurt you.”

You laughed, “You don’t need someone else to hurt me. You do a good job of it on your own.” You wiped your eyes again. “…And if there is no green light…then why can’t I leave?”

“When we broke up, any protection that you had from the Santos was over. You’re a prophet.” When you opened your mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “Maybe not for real, or in name, but you are in blood and that makes you an enemy. Your mother might have denounced affiliation but your dad never did. He died a prophet.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s so stupid. I don’t claim the prophets. I barely knew my dad…I don’t even know any prophets other than Monse’s dad and he’s not even in the life anymore. Why does it matter?”

Oscar looked away from you, “It just does. They won’t kill you…but you could get hurt. You could get snatched and they’ll put you on the market, ci- Y/n. And I can’t go against cuchillos’s word.”

You were silent for a moment, understanding but not understanding what he was saying. Gang code meant everything to Oscar and even if it didn’t make exact sense to you, it was his word and his law and there was nothing you could do to break that.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, “So what? I just…have to watch my back when I’m home? What about my mom? Should she wear a bulletproof vest?”

“Your mom is smart. She doesn’t come down here.”

You chuckled sarcastically, sitting down on the arm of the couch, all of a sudden tired. “And I’m the idiot that tried to bring food to the leader of the gang that hates me.”

Oscar said nothing to that, sitting across from you in an arm chair.

You looked at him, handsome in the greyness of the poorly lit room. He watched you as well, only moving one finger. It tapped the arm of the chair.

“You remember, Brit Lit?”

He snorted and nodded, “I remember Mr. Hartley….he looked like Santa Claus.”

You chuckled a little, “Yeah…remember when we read Romeo and Juliet.”

He was silent for a moment but then nodded, changing his position.

You smiled a little at him, “This feels a lot like that.”

You sat in silence for a few more moments before remembering that you had left the food on the porch. You stood up stretching a little before walking to the door.

“It’s not safe yet.” He spoke up, looking up from his phone.

“…I just wanted to get the food off the porch, you don’t want dogs all over it.” You opened the door, peaking your head out to look for any one that might be walking by before snatching the plates and the one unbroken soda.

You walked back over to the couches and sat the food and soda on the table.

“It’s left overs. I…didn’t know what you guys were doing for Christmas so I thought that I could give you guys some Christmas dinner.” A grin started on your face as Oscar leaned forward, lifting up the foil a little to see the contents. “It’s chicken, potato salad, greens, dressing. I even wrapped some Red Velvet cake in plastic wrap and put it on the plate. …I brought two sodas but one broke…your fault.”

He laughed a little and your mood lightened even more. You smiled. “So the one that’s left is for Ceaser. Where is he by the way? …I hope we didn’t disturb his sleep arguing.”

Oscar didn’t look at you but he did stand up walking into the kitchen and going into the fridge. You got a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Where is Ceaser, Oscar?” When there was more silence, your heart beat doubled. “He’s not…Oscar, where is he?”

The sound of a can popping was your only answer, Oscar walked back into the room sitting on the couch in front of you. He sat the can of beer down, pulling off the foil. He met your eyes, fork hovering over one of the plates. “He’s not dead.”

You sighed, body literally relaxing against the chair. “Good. Where is he though?”

Oscar shrugged, fork full of greens going into his mouth. “This is good.”

“Did you just shrug?”

“I did.”

“…So you don’t know where your brother is right now?”

“…I have a general idea.”

“…a general…idea? What the hell is going on?”

Oscar put the fork down and sat back looking at you, “A lot of shit has gone down since you’ve been gone.”

“…What could have possibly gone down for you to not know where your brother is?”

You were on your second beer by the time Oscar got finish laying out what had happened during your time away from Freeridge. You had nearly called bullshit on him a couple times, when things started to sound more like a teenage drama show than actual life but by the time he was finish you believed him.

“So…now Ceaser can’t be here anymore?”

Oscar shook his head, not even looking at you. The food on the plate was only partially finished.

“…He can’t be here…in his home? The only home he knows?” You were mad all over again. “That’s so stupid.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Good cause I don’t!” You slammed the beer on the coffee table. “It’s not Ceaser’s fault he couldn’t kill someone. It’s not his fault at all. He didn’t even want to be in the stupid gang in the first place.”

“Watch your mouth.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Or what? You gonna put another green light on me?”

His grin was full of malice, and his eyes challenged you. “I have before. I can do it again easily.”

“Do it.”

He sat up, “You dare me to?”

“Yeah, I do. Green light me. Matter of fact, tell your boys I’m walking out of your house right now. Tell them to come and get me. Anything would be better than sitting here with a cold heartless monster.” You stood up and walked to the door.

“Y/n.”

You ignored him, grabbing your jacket and putting it on. Before you could open the door his hand was against it. He placed his forehead on the back of your neck, you could feel the inhales and the exhales tickling the small hairs that were there.

“Y/n.” Your name was a plea on his lips, quiet, barely there but you could hear it. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“You need to fix things with Ceaser. You have to. He can’t survive on his own.” You leaned back against him slightly.

“…I can’t go against Cuchillos.”

“….So what? You’re gonna let your brother die for the gang?” You turned and looked at him. “Why does it matter so much to you? Why can’t you just let the life go?”

“Because the Santos are the only family I have!” He shouted at you. “You don’t get it. You have a mom, you have a grandma, you have friends, and connections. I have nothing. Nothing but this life and the gang. The Santos took care of us, has always took care of us, and things aren’t perfect, they never were perfect but I’m in a position where I can take care of mine and everyone around me and I can’t mess that up. People are counting on me.”

“What about your brother?”

“…I’m trying.” He ran his hand over his bald head. “I’m trying to figure out ways to get him back in, but…he made the gang look weak.”

“He doesn’t need to be back in. He needs to be free. You too.”

“There is no freedom, cielo. There is either the Santos….or death. That’s always the way it’s been.”

“…It doesn’t have to be like this. You can-“

He slammed his hand against the door, “Stop. Stop! This isn’t a fairytale. This is real life. This is my life and you can’t save me. You can’t bring a Christmas dinner by and save me with your mom’s chicken and harsh words. You think I don’t know that my brother living out on the streets is fucked up? You think I don’t know that the longer we’re in the gang the more likely that one or both of us will die. You think I don’t see the spark of life draining out of my brother’s eyes every time he looks at me? Every time another fool darkens our doorway with a bullet wound this-“ He made the gesture with his fingers. “Close to an artery? I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t call you stupid. …there are just other options. Monse’s dad- “

He laughed and moved away from you, allowing you the freedom to move off the door again. “Maybe the Prophets forgive and forget. But us Santos, we remember.” He sat down. “You know how you said that our situation reminded you of Romeo and Juliet.”

You nodded. You felt chastised. You felt cold but most of all you felt aware of your ignorance and the fact that you were far removed from the life that Oscar lived.

His smirk was sarcastic, full of misery and the actuality of his fate, “I won’t choose death like Romeo did. Death will come for me whether I like it or not. Don’t be an idiot and stab yourself. Don’t be like Juliet.”

#oscar diaz #oscar (spooky) x reader #on my block fanfiction #spooky on my block #spooky x reader

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harmonie-writes · 4 years ago

Text

When Halloween Comes to Town

Taeyong x Reader (ft. some other members of 127)

genre: fluff

tw: none

Somewhat based off of Halloween Town. Time works differently in Halloween Town (in my version since I don’t remember it very well). I know WinWin is a part of NCT 127 now, but for the sake of everything he is.

Word count: ~1.8k

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Every year on the eve of Halloween the town would light the absurdly large jack-o-lantern that officially rang in the town’s festivities. Each year that the pumpkin was lit, it almost seemed as if the number of people in the city grew with the amount of costume wearers that roamed the streets enjoying the crisp evenings. If people noticed then they never mentioned anything, but a young boy, with bright shining eyes seemed to notice the various witches and warlocks, the almost too furry werewolves, or the skeletons that seemed just a little too real walking down the paved roads.

And for such a young, bright mind it was only confirmed when he wandered just a little too far from his home while trick-or-treating. In all honesty, it was a misunderstanding, maybe he should be thankful that his little werewolf mask covered his face just enough or that what he assumed to be a goblin-child tugged his hand in the direction of the jack-o-lantern in the town square. What he does remember is one moment he is running toward the orange pumpkin hand-in-hand with a goblin, and the next moment he is running out of the pumpkin onto a very, very different road and not entirely sure how to get home.

After the mild panic of being stranded, and alone in a whole other world the boy remembers being approached in an alley by a cat with the brightest green eyes, as if they were made out of emeralds. The cat brought some sense of comfort to the boy who had the sniffles, but the sound of frantic footsteps that finally slowed made him aware of another presence. Pushing his mask up to the top of his head, dark, watery eyes came into contact with purple boots that met a green skirt with purple accents, and to top it off the lady in front of him wore a smile with a crooked hat.

“Something tells me that this is your first time here in Halloween Town.” The gentleness of tone pulled his focus back reality once more, and away from staring at the bent shape of the hat you wore.

“D-dragged through the pumpkin on accident,” the boy mumbled, rubbing at his runny nose.

The boy’s actions were halted when a hand holding the edge of a cloak wiped away the rest of his tears, and removed the mask from his head. “How about we get you something to eat, and I can show you around our small town?” There was no false intentions to be given, just one person who recognized that another being needed a hand. “My name is YN, and does this cute werewolf have a name?”

“My name is Taeyong.”

“Well Taeyong,” you took off your hat and set it atop his head, “hmm, it’s a little bit, but it’ll do. Now let’s go on an adventure.” The hat covered his eyes slightly, but that didn't stop him from hearing a chuckle at the statement.

He remembers hearing the hum of content and being given a tour of the home of Halloween magic. He walked hand in hand with a witch he could compare to Glinda the Good Witch and the green eyed cat walked on his other side.

Finally stopping in front of the century-old pumpkin you rapped on it with your knuckles. Taeyong remembers watching in fascination as you pulled a simple wand out of your boot before giving him a smile. With a small flick of your wrist the tip started to glow. He doesn’t remember if there were any fancy words that followed, but he does remember how the light grew brighter as you tapped it against the jack-o-lantern. Together you stepped through back into the human realm, and you figured it was best to make sure he made it home safely so you let him lead the way.

Reaching his house Taeyong looked back at you realizing that this might be his last time seeing you. “I’ll see you again, right?”

A smile graced your face, “You’ll always be able to find me when the town lights up the jack-o-lantern.” You gave him a small wave before you turned to walk down the mostly empty road.

Taeyong returned the wave and then remembered that he still had your hat.

----------

Taeyong stood in front of the unlit jack-o-lantern yet again after being gone for so long. No one believed him when he was younger about going to a place actually called Halloween Town, but it didn’t explain where he got the hat from. His parents even tried reasoning that someone gave it to him from one of the market stalls near the town square.

His hand dipped into his bag feeling the rim of the old velvet hat that he brought back with him. Things have changed a lot since the last time he was here, and now he was visiting his hometown with his group members.

“You’ve been staring at that gigantic pumpkin for awhile now. You good?” Jaehyun asked, placing a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder.

“Huh, oh yeah. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been here. You could say this place is pretty magical,” Taeyong told him as he pulled his eyes away.

“Well everyone is heading to get some food before they start the ceremony tonight.” Taeyong followed Jaehyun down the road, and at least for the time his mind was pulled away from the past.

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Colored light strips strung around street lamps were turned on adding a soft glow to the street, and people started leaving their homes dressed as spooky ghouls. Taeyong couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he observed the creative costumes his members wore, or the fact that Mark and Johnny were having a mock mexican standoff in the middle of the road as they were dressed like cowboys.

“Aren’t you dressing up?” Doyoung asked, seeing that Taeyong hadn’t changed.

“Oh, right,” Taeyong dug through his bag before pulling out the crooked, velvet hat he's held onto for so long. “How does it look?”

Doyoung raised a brow at the hat that fit solidly atop the silver haired boy, “Uh… it looks fine?”

A content smile touched Taeyong’s face as he looked back to the center of town. Maybe, just maybe he could have a small trip back down memory lane while he was here. Even though the lantern was now lit, there didn’t seem to be any change in the amount of people that roamed the streets. Did he get his hopes up? Was it actually all in his head? He didn’t get a lot of time to overthink it, because pretty soon he was being dragged to some of the vendor stalls to observe some of the foods and halloween get-ups for sale.

It was only when he was being dragged past a mask stall that he stopped midstep. Sitting on the table top was an oddly familiar cat with striking green eyes. What was even stranger was that the cat seemed to be watching Taeyong.

His eyes followed the tilt of the cat’s head that seemed to point to the female standing next to it. The person standing at the stall shifted ever so slightly so that their boot was no longer covered by the long skirt. Purple.

A nudge brought him out of his thoughts briefly to see who got his attention. “You’re staring, or you really want a mask since you don’t have much of a costume,” Haechan muttered while leaning into him.

“Mask. I was looking at the masks,” Taeyong covered up, slipping his eyes to look at a random mask and not at someone’s back.

“Well, let’s go get one,” Haechan said, as he began pushing him in that direction.

Taeyong stood rigid before quickly picking up a random mask, not even paying any attention to what it was. Feeling a pair of eyes on him he brought up the mask to cover his face before glancing at the person standing to his left. He noticed the look of recognition pass across a face oh so familiar, but it was the words that were spoken that confirmed his suspicions.

“So, does the cute werewolf have a name?”

Slowly, Taeyong pulled the mask away from his face. “How’d you know?”

All you did is point at his head while smiling. “Even if I didn’t see my hat, your eyes are very recognizable Taeyong.”

Taeyong’s face scrunched up slightly as he took in your features. You didn’t seem to age since the last time you saw him, and that was roughly fifteen years ago. As if sensing what he was going to ask, you answered him with a wave of your hand, “Things work a little bit differently in Halloween Town than they do here, magic and all.”

A series of coughs brought the both of you out of your small bubble. Turning around you were met with nine other boys who seemed puzzled by your interaction. “Hey Taeyong, who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is YN. They're an old childhood friend,” he told them, gesturing to you and then introducing his members. You gave them a small wave with your fingertips and a smile.

Taeyong noticed the small flicker of mischief in your eyes as you turned to his group members, “Would you guys like to see something… magical?”

They agreed wholeheartedly, because it’s Halloween, how magical could it possibly be? Well to put it lightly they were not expecting platform 9 ¾ nonsense when you took Taeyong’s hand and disappeared through the giant jack-o-lantern.

“Did they just?”

“Yeah…”

“And we’re gonna?”

“I think so.”

They all stood gobsmacked staring at the jack-o-lantern because it just ate their leader. That was until you and Taeyoung reappeared and grabbed ahold of their hands starting a chain reaction of pulling them through to your world.

When everyone was finally settled and not panicking you pulled the wand out of your boot and gave it a small swish letting small sparks fly from the top, “Welcome to my home, Halloween Town!” Although you did cringe slightly afterward for sounding like some awkward tour guide.

Letting the group pull farther ahead you turned to Taeyong, “I told you I would see you again when the pumpkin was lit.”

Taeyong couldn’t help, but pull the brim of your witch hat that he was wearing down over his eyes, “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

Tugging his hand you pointed in the direction of his friends who managed to get a block away, “C’mon we have years to make up for!”

“I’m right behind you!” Taeyong chuckled, as you dragged him to the rowdy boys.

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No this most certainly wasn’t a dream he conjured up when he was ten, because even after years things looked just the way he remembered it when he stumbled upon it on all hallows eve.

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31 𝕯𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓

#dvoz-writes #31 days of halloween #taeyong x reader #nct 127 x reader #taeyong #supernatural nct 127 #nct 127 #lee taeyong #nct 127 fluff #fluff

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en-lil-sin · 3 years ago

Text

The Door

By Mikayla MacPherson

The security guard's steps echoed in the empty hallway. It was a typical sterile basement corridor found in any large building; drab beige walls, overhead fluorescent lights spaced just far enough to allow puddles of shadows between them, sickly pale green colored floor tiles. The only sound came from the ventilation ducts and the guards' steps.

The guard never liked coming down here. Something about it always creeped him out. Especially when he was on a night shift, like he was tonight. He would always try to make his rounds down here as swiftly as possible, just long enough to check the few locked doors and to swipe his keycard against the two security panels to log his rounds had been made. The quicker he finished this round, the quicker he could get back to the security desk and watch shows on his phone. His partner would do the next round in two hours.

He turned the final corner to head back to one of the two stairwells, when he saw a door standing open across from the stairwell. He stopped and looked at the door, slightly confused because he didn't remember ever seeing a door there, but it had to have always been there if he was looking at it. He cautiously walked up to the door and looked inside. A red painted corridor lit by dim lights, and what looked like red an black tiles on the floor stretched before him. He couldn't see any other doors, but the corridor did have an intersection about a dozen feet beyond the door he was standing at, with another about a hundred or so further into the gloom. No sounds could be heard from inside the room, or corridor, or whatever was beyond the door.

Nobody should be down here, he thought. Not even the building's engineering staff would come down here, except for occasional routine maintenance. And even then, they were required to check in with the security desk before starting any work, and then again when the work was completed. He pulled out his radio and keyed it.

"Hey Amanda, the door across from the north stairwell is unlocked and open. Did any of the maintenance guys check in with you, to let us know they would be down here?"

Amanda, his partner for this shift, came back sounding bored and sleepy; "Say again, Greg? Did you say north stairwell?"

"Yeah, directly across from the bottom of the stairs."

"Uh...you ok, dude? There is no door across from either set of stairs." Her voice sounded unsure and confused over the radio.

"I'm telling you, I'm looking right at it. It's open and there is a hallway inside."

There was a pause from the other end, before a dismissive response. "Greg, seriously. Stop screwing around. I have worked here for three years now. I'm pretty sure I would know if there was a door there."

"Whatever you say, 'Manda, but I'm still going to check it out," he said.

"Suit yourself, check out your nonexistent door. Let me know if you run into any unicorns as well, while you're down there."

Greg rolled his eyes as he could hear her laughing over the radio. He clipped the radio back onto his belt, pulled his flashlight out and switched it on. It's beam didn't add very much additional light to the reddish gloom inside the door. He leaned in and called out.

"Hello? Anyone there? It's Greg from security." His voice seemed to echo in a strange way. As if the room or hallway was much larger than the entire basement itself. Silence was the answer. He called out again, "hey you need to check in with the security desk, you know. Hello?"

Still nothing. He stepped into the red hallway and began slowly walking towards the first intersection. He looked down both cross hallways.

"What the fuck?" Both directions seem to go on much further than was possible. With corridors branching off in both directions. He began walking to the right to the next branch. This too stretched away with it's own branching corridors and intersections.

His confusion grew even more. He turned back and walked past the first intersection to investigate the other side of the main corridor. It was similar to the first one, but did not mirror it, though it also disappeared into the distance. Hair on the back of his neck began to stand up, as his unease increased.

This is beginning to give me the fucking creeps, he thought. And I really want to get the hell out of here. He turned back towards the door. And then froze.

The door was not there. The corridor ended in a t-intersection, but where the door should have been, there was only a red colored wall. He was certain that this was where the door was. He didn't take any other turns other than walking a few feet down each side hall. There was no way he was not where he came in.

He walked to the t-intersection and placed his hand on the wall. It was cool and solid to the touch, feeling like poured concrete. He was certain that this is where the door should be, but only the wall stood in front of him. The first hints of panic began to tickle the back of his mind.

"Ok Greg. There is a logical explanation to this. You just mistook where you came in. It has to be nearby. Let's not let a spooky hallway end up making you feel foolish." He walked about twenty feet in one direction before stopping. Then walked back to the intersection and walked another twenty feet the other way.

Turning to look back down the main hallway, he saw only a hallway that was about a hundred feet long lacking any interesting corridors. Instead it terminated in a single right turn to the right. Cold tendrils of fear now began to well up inside him.

"No. No. No no no no no. This can't be real." His voice wavered as he looked disbelievingly at the now unfamiliar corridor. With a shaking hand he pulled his radio for the clip on the belt and keyed it.

"Hey, uh…'Manda. I seem to...uh...be lost. I don't care if you laugh at me the rest of the night, but I really need you to come down and help me find my way out of here." Only static answered him. He waited a moment and then tried again with the same results.

"Ok, very funny Amanda. I know you're having a good laugh at me right now. But I please need you to help me." His voice began to take on an edge of panic.

The light of his flashlight jumped about in his trembling hands as he slowly walked to the bend in the hallway and looked down it's length. There, about ten feet, was an intersection.

Oh thank God, I must have just gotten turned around. He ran to the intersection and looked both ways. His hopes came crashing down as he only saw more branching corridors. Vison now blurring, due to tears welling up in his eyes, he slowly sank to his knees.

"Greg, where're you at?" Amanda's voice echoed in the maze of passageways. But it sounded distant, and not quite right. Greg jumped to his feet and began running in the direction it sounded like it came from.

"Amanda! I can hear you! Keep calling out!" He stopped to listen.

"Greg, this way!" Now the voice came from a hallway on his right, and he dashed towards it. After a bit he stopped to listen again. Again Amanda's voice called out. But now it came from a new direction behind him. Then again from another direction. Her voice repeatedly came from random directions.

He stood up and picked a random direction to begin walking in. "Amanda? I can hear you, but it's hard to tell what direction you're in." He stopped to listen once again.

Ok, let's be logical about this. I know the size of the basement, this room or whatever the hell this is can't be that big, he thought to himself. He figured he would just continue to walk in one direction.

He walked about a dozen feet until he came to a tee. He took the right hand passage and walked about another dozen feet until he came to another branch to the left, which he took. Another few dozen paces brought him to another intersection. He continued walking straight ahead before being presented with another tee.

He was contemplating which direction to take when he froze. He thought he had heard something. But try as he might, the only sound he could hear was the blood rushing in ears. He peered into the gloom bathed in the red lighting. He swung his flashlight left and right, it's weak beam only penetrating about a dozen feet before being too diffused to be of any use. Suddenly, with a flash and a pop, his light went dead, leaving him cloaked in the low light corridor, now completely the color of blood.

He continued trying to move in one direction as much as he could. He finally admitted he was hopelessly lost in what seemed to be an impossibly sized area within the basement. He was scared, even succumbing to a full panic attack once or twice as he aimlessly traced his way through ever changing hallways that lead nowhere. He lost track of time, though he began to eventually feel both thirst and hunger. Still he wandered, ever deeper into a maze with no exit. Another bend, another intersection, another side passage. On and on.

Then slowly even the dim lights in the distance began to slowly fade out of existence, leaving him in an ever increasingly smaller pool of light. Oh shit, he thought. If the lights went out, and he couldn't get his flashlight to work again, he would be royally screwed, unable to find his way except to feel along the walls.

Panic now began to fully close in. Foot by foot the inky black darkness inches it's way closer. Again he thought he heard something. Like something whispering his name, calling out to him. Feeling like his options were dwindling, he began moving in the direction of the disembodied whisper. Soon Greg found himself entering the black void like darkness. Two steps later, he found himself suddenly falling forward as the floor seemed to just drop away.

It felt like he fell only a few feet when the sensation of falling stopped, and was replaced by one floating in a thick viscous fluid. Greg could feel it pressing in around him, as if he was wrapped completely in a warm waterbed, weightless yet somehow comforting. He tried kicking and attempted to swim upwards, or what he thought was upwards.

He felt like an insect trapped within a spider's web. Moving his arms and legs seemed to take more of an effort. He also began to notice another sensation. The feeling of warmth all over his body, like the warmth one gets when a little tipsy after a few alcoholic drinks. A moment later he realized that he could no longer feel his body at all. Only his consciousness remained.

His mind was floating free in the infinite void he found himself in. It was as if he had fallen through a hole into a space between different universes. The darkness now was all there is, and all there will be from this point onwards. It would go on forever in this infinite abyss of nothingness. Time no longer existed. There would be no future or past, only this single moment of time with eternity stretching out before him. And he would be utterly alone.

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

"Look, I'm telling you detective Sawyer, Greg said he had found a door that was unlocked and open in the basement that was directly across from the north stairwell," Amanda Kendell told the haggard looking police detective standing on the other side of the security desk in a cheap rumpled coat and tie. "Greg went into the basement to do his rounds, and never came back."

Detective Sawyer looked at her, then scribbled some notes down on a pad before asking, "and you're sure there is no door directly across from the north stairwell? Or a maintenance hatch? Something he could have crawled into? Something you might not have noticed before?"

Amanda shook her head. "Look detective, I get I'm only a rent-a-cop, but I have been a security guard for ten years now. Three working in this very building. I have been in that basement hundreds of times. There are no doors across from either stairwell." She sounded exasperated. She had explained it to this idiot now multiple times. She was beginning to think he really was not too worried about her work partner and friend who had gone missing two days before.

Another plainclothes detective came walking up with a uniformed officer at his side. Detective Sawyer turned towards them as they walked up. "Find anything down there?"

The second detective, whom she heard Sawyer call Chan, shook his head and said, "it's like she said, sir. There is no door on the wall directly in front of the stairwell. And the only other stairwell is the southern one on the opposite side of the basement. None of the other rooms have an exit, and all of them require keys that only the building engineers have access to to get in. Nor did the security cameras ever show the security guard exit the basement. Also, he was the only one that entered the basement two nights ago. It was as if he just went into the basement and disappeared."

Detective Sawyer stood there for a moment, then slowly nodded. He closed his notebook and stuffed it into an inside pocket of a charcoal grey jacket in desperate need of being pressed. When he was done he ran his hand over a stubbled face then shrugged. He turned back to Amanda, his watery pale blue eyes looking into hers.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Kendall. There doesn't seem like there is much we can do at this point."

Amanda was bit taken back. He didn't even seem to care that Greg simply disappeared into thin air. Without even the slightest clue of where. Or even how.

"That's it? You're just going to say that's it? Are you going to even try to do a more thorough search, or even try to figure out where he could have gotten off to?" She began to get mad at the dismissive attitude of the detective before her.

"Look, Miss Kendall, I have dealt with these kinds of unusual cases for a while now. I'm pretty sure that there is nothing to further investigate here, nor will it do any good or produce any results. But if you encounter anything else usual, give us a call. Good day, Miss Kendall."

He turned to leave and told Detective Chan to give her his card. He turned back to her, nodded his goodby and left. Detective Chan walked up to her and handed her his contact information and card. She took it, anger bubbling up inside of her.

"It's no fucking wonder that people just disappear without a trace, and are never found again. Especially with cops like your detective Sawyer." She snatched the card out of Chan's hand, and tossed it into the security desk.

Detective Chan looked at her for a moment, then said; "he isn't one of our department's detectives. I don't know who he is, he showed up just prior to the missing persons call. Nobody knows who he is. We were just ordered to provide whatever assistance he needed, and to not ask any questions. But, anyway, thank you for your cooperation, ma'am."

#spooky #short story #supernatural story

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years ago

Text

Halloween Coutdown - A Bump in the Night

Summary: Victoria Van Gale is a serious scientist even after her laboratory and workplace is destroyed, she remains the sort of person to look for the reasons behind everything. She likes being in control, she makes stern analyses and important experiments, and she… goes trick or treating with a bunch of kids?

Notes: 3 days until Halloween, you guys!!! This is the irst time i actually try to make something I write feel like an episode, I hope you enjoy it! I thought it would be hard to write something with no sketchbook (and no librarian either!!) but it was actually so fun! Love this little unhinged scientist

Read it on ao3

Spooky song rec: HYPNOTIZED by AViVA

Victoria Van Gale did not like things she could not control.

She took her coffee black, she liked to read biographies, she was an early riser and she didn’t like things she couldn’t control. It was just one more part of her personality like any other, and she’d never really seen a reason to fight it. Granted, she supposed that it had been partially to blame for the fact that her observatory was now destructed, and she had to work a dull nine to five job to pay for the apartment she’d managed to rent. But she hadn’t been the only one involved in that mess. The responsibility could hardly be given to her, she’d been perfectly fine before those kids and their talking bird arrived. Or at least she told herself.

But the fact was that, out of her distaste for things she couldn’t understand and command, was born a revulsion against that one night of the year.

Halloween. What a bunch of nonsense.

She did her best to forget the night every year. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in ghosts, witches and monsters. She’d seen enough to know there was much in this world that she couldn’t understand. It just made her uncomfortable to have to face a whole celebration dedicated to the incomprehensible. Why should they revel in it when they could analyze it? If humans had superior intellect, only their silly superstitions stopped them from being the absolute rulers of the world.

It seemed that, in her efforts, Victoria did manage to forget about Halloween, because she gasped as soon as she stepped outside and was faced with a crowd of children dressed in colourful costumes, running around and knocking on people's doors. A group of kids nearby noticed her leaving the building in which her apartment was, and ran towards her.

“Trick or treat!” They exclaimed, raising their pumpkin shaped buckets at her. Victoria tried not to feel too guilty as she gently told them he had nothing to give them and watched them walk away crestfallen.

Her plan had been to go to the nearest convenience store, pick something to snack on since she felt like it, and return home just as quickly. With all the tumult the celebrations caused, however, she was just considering giving up on her task to head back home when she felt something bump against her leg. Looking down, she saw a white figure, much smaller than a child. As it realized it had bumped on her in its haste, it looked at her and Victoria could see the glimmer of the lamp post light on its dark eyes. It ran away, and she took off after it.

By the way the creature ran, with white linen trailing behind it, Victoria could only come to one conclusion: she’d found a ghost. And if she managed to catch it, the amount of information she could get was unimaginable! How did ghosts come back to the earth? Was it true that there were more ghosts around on Halloween? What was the afterlife like? How did a ghost even work? The excitement at the prospect of asking those questions, combined with the running which she didn’t do often left her breathless.

As she dodged them, her chase attracted the odd stares of many children, and even their complaints when she accidently hit one in the shoulder, but she didn’t care, all that mattered was getting to the ghost and taking it to somewhere where she could study it. Nevermind that this would probably be her apartment.

She came to a halt, however, when a large group of children who were crossing the street together blocked her path. She tried to squeeze her way past it, but when she had finally crossed the crowd, the ghost was nowhere in sight.

“Oh, no” She whispered, looking around frantically. She jogged forward, coming to the end of the street, and looked into the two other streets that the one she was in led into, seeing nothing but more children. There was a fifty per cent chance she’d pick the right road, and she was about to try her luck on the path to her right when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Victoria… what are you doing?”

Startled, Victoria looked behind her shoulder to see the same blue haired girl who had set her weather spirit free. Her face had been painted green with black drawings that mimicked stitches, and the hair bow she was wearing had screws in its ends to make it look like they were coming out of her skull. She was accompanied by the boy Victoria also remembered, who wore dark clothes and fake fangs, and a girl Victoria hadn’t met yet, a witch hat on top of her head and wearing a black dress.

She didn’t exactly still have hard feelings towards Hilda, though she wasn’t over the fact that her interference in private matters had left her homeless and jobless. For her part, however, Hilda looked like she didn’t trust Victoria in the least.

“Oh! Hilda! You won’t believe this, I just saw a <em>ghost</em>. I’m, uh, happy to see you’re fine, by the way. With the nasty fall you took from the bureau and all.”

“Are you really?” David muttered, making Hilda elbow him softly so as to tell him not to pick on her.

Hilda asked her what the ghost she saw was like, while Frida whispered to her friends questioning who this woman was. Though she couldn’t hear what he was saying, Victoria noticed David answering in her ear.

“It was very small.” She informed, placing her hands apart from each other in order to show her esteemed measurement of it. The girl that was dressed as a witch looked at her with suspicion as her friend talked to her, but she tried to ignore the two of them and focus on Hilda. “And it really did wear a white cloth like the tales say. Pretty quick, too.”

Frida was about to refute something she said when Hilda lifted her hand, asking her not to.

“A ghost!” Hilda exclaimed, the hint of a smile on her lips. “That’s interesting. But why were you running after it?”

Victoria fidgeted, rubbing her thumb and index finger in circles. “Well, I… I’d never seen a ghost before, is all. I just wanted to try and take a look! See what they’re made of!”

Looking disappointed with the answer, Hilda sighed and shook her head negatively. “Still trying to control everything, Victoria? Haven’t you learned already?”

“That’s… that’s not it…” Victoria tried to defend herself, looking down at her feet.

“You know what?” Hilda said suddenly, her tone changing abruptly to a more joyful one. “You are not going to find anything in this crowd by yourself. Not only that, but all three of us have actual experiences with ghosts. We’ll help you with it.”

“Really?” Both Victoria and the two other children gasped.

“Really, under one condition.” She put a finger up, looking serious. “This is my first Halloween in Trolberg, and I don’t want to miss out on it. You’ll come with us and after we’re done trick or treating, we’ll help.”

“Huh?” Victoria frowned, thinking that perhaps the girl had hit her head hard after that explosion in the bureau. If she ran, she still might catch up with her ghost, but if she spent the night trick or treating, she was certain to never see it again.

“Hilda, I don’t have time-” She tried to argue, but the girl cut her off.

“Don’t you know the lore of Halloween? These ghosts will be walking around town the whole night. In fact, if you come with us, there is an even greater chance of you finding a ghost, even if not the one you just saw. But it’s all the same to science, right?”

“Yes…” Victoria rubbed her chin. “I suppose you’re right.”

“But Hilda.” David whispered to his friend, probably thinking he was being a lot more discreet than he was in reality. “She’s an adult. Adults can’t go trick or treating.”

The look Hilda gave her scared Victoria more than any child should be able to.

“They can if they’re part of our costume.”

_#_#_#_

Victoria all but dragged herself behind them, attempting not to feel like a fool.

“Is this really necessary?” she groaned, being met with Hilda’s fierce affirmation that yes, it was necessary. After they’d struck their agreement, the trio had made her take them to her apartment, where they found her lab gloves and coat and made her wear it. They hadn’t even stopped there, finding her black rain boots and asking her to put them on too.

When they began going to the first houses, she’d felt awkward standing near the children as they asked for candy. Most people ignored her, until one woman, with bright red curly hair and a sweet face chuckled at her.

“Who would you be?” She asked, not mockingly but with curiosity after dropping a large amount of sweets into the children's pumpkins.

Hilda was fast to answer. “She’s Victor Frankenstein!”

“Oh, what a lovely pair you two make!” The woman said, her eyes going back and forth between Hilda and Victoria. “You must be such a dedicated auntie. Here, have some candie as well, you deserve it.”

After putting candies in Victoria’s shelled hands, she wished them a good Halloween and closed her door. The children climbed down from her porch, but Victoria remained where she was, looking awestruck as she stared at her hands.

“Are you okay?” Frida asked, the first to realize Victoria hadn’t moved.

“Yeah, I’m alright. It’s just been a lot of time since I received candy from anyone.”

David tilted his head to the side. “You haven’t eaten candy in a long time?”

“What? No!” Victoria assured him. “I eat more candy than I should, honestly. But it’s different when you get it from someone. Everything is more special when it’s a gift, I suppose.”

“Hey, why don’t we stop and eat some of what we got tonight?” Hilda suggested, and the rest of them agreed eagerly. There was a bench nearby, and they all sat on it. As the kids dug into their pumpkin buckets, making their choice of which sweet to eat first, Victoria unwrapped a sour candy.

“Did you know that sour candies are sour because of the citric acid?” She asked, drawing the kids’ attention. “Like all acids, it has hydrogen ions which activate our tongue’s sour taste receptors! Isn’t this interesting? Of course, this is the same acid we have in some fruits, but to use it in candy you need to make it by fermenting sugar with microorganisms! Not as simple as it seems at first, I’m certain.”

“I thought you were a meteorologist.” David said after a beat.

“I am! But that doesn’t stop me from liking the other sciences as well.”

“That’s so cool, miss Van Gale!” Frida gasped, and Hilda nodded in agreement. “I hope this is not rude to ask… but there are so many things about the science books I read that I don’t understand, and our teacher can never really answer all of them. I was wondering if one day you’d be willing to help me with that?”

“Of course!” Excited at the prospect of having someone to discuss science with, Victoria nodded, happy when the girl looked joyful with her acceptance. “It's always good to revisit topics one hasn’t studied for long. Keeps the brain sharp.”

There was a pen in her labcoat’s pocket, and the woman used it to write her landline’s number on the candy wrap and give it to Frida, so she could call her for them to arrange a day.

“I think we should go.” Hilda sighed, tired because of the late hour but very happy about how her first Halloween in the city was going. “We still have many houses to visit, and I have an idea that might get us even more candy.”

_#_#_#_

“It’s moving…” Victoria uttered in the moment when Hilda, lying down in front of the house’s door, began lifting her hand. The couple that lived in the house watched them with curiosity and wonderment at their makeshift theatre. “It’s alive! It’s moving, it’s alive! In the name of God, now I know what it is like to be God! IT’S ALIVE!”

Abruptly, Hilda lifted her whole torso up, groaning as monstrously as she could. Her two friends giggled, already having received their candy, and the couple clapped at them.

“How frightening!” the woman said, dropping candy into Hilda’s pumpkin. “Happy Halloween and keep up the good work!”

The group left, laughing about how good their acting had been. They’d done it for all the past houses, and everyone who had seen it had loved it, even fellow trick or treaters. Now knowing that they were her favourite, Hilda always gave the sour candies she received to Victoria, and as she separated them from the others David complimented how genuine Victoria had sounded.

“Thank you, David. I have a talent for the dramatic arts, don’t you think?” She boasted mockingly, swiping her hand across her shoulder to push her wild hair back. The boy giggled, the apprehension he’d had of her in the beginning of the night all but gone. Without them even noticing, the resentment each of them had towards the other seemed to have melted away with the time they spent together.

“I just think ‘mad scientist’ comes to you naturally, Victoria.” He retorted, and she brought her hand to her heart in fake outrage, making them all laugh.

“It’s getting really late.” Frida said unwillingly. “I think I’ve got to go home.”

They all looked at the wrist clock Frida was wearing, and Victoria was surprised to find herself sad that her time with the children had come to an end. It made her even more surprised, when she remembered the ghost, that her first thought had been about the children and not about what they’d promised her.

After that, David also sighed and mumbled that he had to go, otherwise his parents might get worried. Hilda didn’t say anything, nor did she look at Victoria.

“I still…” Victoria began. She didn’t want to force kids to stay out past the time they should just to help her, but it seemed like they had forgotten. “I still need to look for the ghost.”

Hilda sighed, the same sigh from hours ago, when they’d found her running around like mad, and she finally looked at Victoria. The woman didn’t like the resignation in her eyes.

Unlike Hilda, when the two other kids looked at her, she could see that the ghost really had slipped from their minds, and that they even felt guilty about it.

“You two go home. I’ll help Victoria find her ‘ghost’.”

They nodded and said good night to both Hilda and Victoria, beginning their walk on the direction they had come from. Something about the way Hilda had said the word “ghost” didn’t sit right with her. If she was being honest, the fact that she’d apparently taken the girl from her happy mood to this silent one didn’t either. She told herself it didn’t matter, they had struck a deal and it wasn’t like she was the girl’s “auntie” like some of the people they saw seemed to think. But even though it didn’t matter, it still made her feel a pang in her chest when the most energetic, positive person she’d seen in years sat down on the concrete edge of the sidewalk.

“I thought you’d let this go.” She muttered, looking at a point in the distance. “I thought that maybe you’d have fun and realize that there’s so much beauty around, especially in te things you can’t control. But I suppose it would be asking for too much, to change a person in a night.”

She whistled suddenly, and Victoria heard the tip-tap of something small coming their way.

“Come here boy!” Hilda exclaimed, and when Victoria looked at the spot Hilda was watching, she saw the same creature she’d seen hours before running her way, and gasped when it happily came into Hilda’s arms.

After picking it up, Hilda turned to her, her face serious. “Is this your ghost?”“It is!” Victoria nodded, her mouth wide in surprise. The biggest surprise, however, came when Hilda lifted the veil from the creature, revealing a white, fluffy looking deerfox.

“Frida wanted to tell you in the beginning of the night. What I said was true, we have had experiences with ghosts, and we know that ghosts don’t wear veils like in the tales. I had dressed Twig up to come with me tonight, but I gave him the command to follow us from afar when I saw you. He must have bumped into you when he was bringing back the stick I threw him. Though he didn’t give me anything, so he mustn’t have been able to find it.” “What?” She gasped, watching Hilda shake her head and get up. “I don’t understand.”

“I know I’m young, Victoria, and I’m still getting used to the whole living in society thing. But there’s one thing I do know that you need to understand. If you keep believing life is a battle, you’ll never stop seeing enemies all around.”

After saying that, she walked away down the same road Frida and David had too. Disappointed, confused and guilty all at the same time, Victoria let herself fall down to the ground, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk.

Though it was the most dangerous night of the year, she was beginning to think she was the only monster around.

#wife's halloween countdown #hilda the series #victoria van gale #victoria van gale fanfic #hilda (hilda) fanfic #my fic

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 87 - SBT

Here it is!

Keys jingled and finally entered the lock. Perle and Soot jumped to their feet and trotted to the front door as the tall man entered.

"Lu', I'm home, love."

Both cats meowed repeatedly and brushed themselves on Mundy's legs.

"Hey, babies…" He crouched down to pet them and they purred.

"And what time do you call this?" The voice with the French accent answered from the living room.

Mundy kicked his boots away and threw his sleeveless jacket on the coat hanger before joining his lover on the sofa.

"I know, it's taken ages, I'm sorry… Oh-?" As soon as Mundy sat next to his lover, Lucien cupped his face and inspected it. "What's wrong? Lookin' for lipstick marks? I'm not the sheila magnet, you are!"

Lucien smiled and chuckled as he shook his head.

"Non, I was just trying to see how it went. And I can tell that it went well in the end, even though you had very strong doubts somewhere about the middle of the discussion."

"What the hell…? How on Earth do you see that on my face?!" Mundy asked.

"Mon loup, you forget I was a secret intelligence expert…!"

[My wolf]

"Yeah, well, that's spooky magic alright!"

Lucien chuckled.

"Nah, seriously, how did you know?"

"Your eyes are still red from the tears but your comment about the lipstick mark shows that you are in a good mood. You cried, but it went well in the end." Lucien explained.

"Ah, yeah, makes sense…"

"I made some dinner, would you like to tell me more as we eat?"

"Sure, I'll lay the table." Mundy stood up, followed by Lucien. "What did you make?"

"Lasagna."

"Oh?"

"I thought that whatever the outcome, you might enjoy your favourite." Lucien added with a wink.

"Thanks, love, really… C'mere…" Mundy pulled him from his waist and kissed him.

"My pleasure."

A few minutes later, they were at the table and enjoying their dinner.

"And yeah… My Dad ended up… accepting? I don't know, but I used the thing you told me and it got to him."

"What was it?" Lucien asked as he sliced more of the lasagna in his plate.

"That I might not understand him, but I respected it. I told him that and I think it got to him. He said he himself couldn't wrap his head around what he had done but he was scared to the bone for Mum and him."

"See? I told you. Fear and situations of extreme stress will change a man." Lucien nodded to himself. He put his fork down for a second to do his bun again as his hair was falling in front of his eyes.

"Yeah, you're right. And yeah, he said the same to me. He didn't understand how I could torture a man and kill him… Said he himself wouldn't have the guts to do half of what I did…"

"I can believe that indeed." Lucien said.

"What?"

"I don't mean it about your father in particular." Lucien poured some red wine for his lover and him. "Not any man can kill and even fewer men can torture their fellow humans."

Mundy took a sip of the wine and put the glass back on the table.

"Guess so."

"Oh for sure. I have seen men drafted during a war that no one knew when it would end, men who had nothing in their heads yet, and I saw more than half of them at least hesitate before a kill; that, or faint, get into some sort of seizure, fits of nerves collapsing… And that was just to shoot a man far away, I am not talking about torture."

"But you… You felt like a fish in a pond." Mundy said.

"Unfortunately so, oui."

"How d'you… I mean, how does it work in your head?"

"Don't get me wrong," Lucien wiped the corners of his mouth elegantly. "The uneasiness and disgust never go away. I learnt to mute them during the act and let them out after the mission is accomplished."

"Oh… Right…"

"But enough about 'spooky business' as you call it, let us come back to your parents. Did you tell them that you work for Maurice now?"

"Yeah, I did. Dad said he uh… He actually said he was proud of me…" Mundy raised glistening eyes to Lucien whose eyebrows jumped with excitement. He took Mundy's hand across the table, between both of his, and Mundy clenched his grip on his lover.

"This is excellent news! Hahaha! You see? I told you it would go well! I told you! Whatever happens, your parents are your parents and they love you!"

"Yeah…" Mundy wiped a tear of joy and chuckled. "And uh… I told them a bit about you too."

"Oh? What did you say?" Lucien asked.

"Told them you helped get Duchemin and now we work together for Maurice."

"Ah, very well." Lucien let go of his lover's hand and his eyes returned to his plate.

"I also said we uh… We live together."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"Oh… You might have wanted to tell them about that later, non?"

"N-no, I didn't say it like that. Mum asked me where I live, told her I was rentin' a place with you as a… well… a housemate…?"

"Ah, I see." Lucien nodded. "They don't know for…?"

"Nah, they don't. They assume I only fancy sheilas."

"Fair enough."

"They want to see you, y'know, get to know the bloke I live with."

"Mh-hm." Lucien nodded. "Anything else you told them about me or would rather me not tell them?"

"Told them you're French, but I didn't tell them you were a spy. I don't wanna scare them or anythin'."

"Wise decision."

"Oh and I told them that the reason why you were after Duchemin was because of your fiancée and son. I think that's all I said."

"Fair enough."

Mundy wiped his mouth and finished his glass of wine.

"Are you uh… I mean d'you… Would you be ok to meet with my parents?"

"Of course, I would love to." Lucien's face beamed up with a sweet smile. "And don't worry, we are housemates, nothing more."

"Y-yeah, sorry about that… So yeah, no holding hands or anythin' like that…"

"I know and I understand." Lucien nodded. "Let us clean this mess and go to bed if you want, you must be tired."

"Yeah actually."

They cleaned the table and Mundy filled the water bowl for the cats. Later on, as the sky was now dark, both Lucien and Mundy were in their bed. The Aussie laid his head on Lucien's shoulder.

"I imagine you feel empty now, hm?"

"Yeah… it was hard. Dad nearly called the police on me to get out."

"Did he?"

"Yeah, when I told him we killed Duchemin. Said he didn't want a murderer to set foot in his house."

"So much for that, he is about to let a former spy in…!"

Mundy and Lucien chuckled.

"Guess so, yeah. Also, uh… They loved the pastries."

"Glad they did." Lucien answered as his arm laced back and his hand dangled above Mundy's head. He scratched his lover's scalp softly through his hair.

"Told them it was your idea."

"Oh? You could have told them it was yours."

"I could have, but I'm sure they wouldn't have believed me. I'm not that kind of guy." Mundy left a kiss on Lucien's chest and started stroking it slowly.

"When do you want us to meet?" Lucien asked.

"I told Mum we'd be free in a few days, over the weekend or something. Is that alright with you?"

"Parfait." Lucien turned to kiss his lover on his forehead.

[Perfect.]

Mundy raised his head and they exchanged a good night kiss, while they locked their arms and legs together.

"Mundy?" Lucien whispered.

"Mh?"

"I am proud of you, and proud to be the man you choose to spend your days and nights with."

Mundy hummed low and smiled against Lucien's chest. He peppered a few more kisses there with his eyes closed.

"You are a very brave man, a good human being. Please, never change."

"I won't, love, don't worry."

The hug tightened on both parts and they fell asleep with a smile of their lips.

-- A few days later --

"I'm home, love."

"Mundy! Finally!" Lucien answered from the bathroom or bedroom, Mundy wasn't sure.

"What? What's wrong?" He answered while removing his boots and jacket.

"Come and see, I need your opinion, please!"

Mundy frowned and looked for his lover in the house. He didn't have to really put any effort as Perle and Soot showed him the way. The Aussie found his lover in their room with at least half his suits on the bed.

"What's happenin'? You're opening a backyard sale of your suits?"

"Non! I cannot bring myself to choose which one is best suited for the occasion!" Lucien answered, wearing a pair of black boxer shorts with matching socks and garters, as well as a white tanktop. "Black or white are too formal, Burgundy red might be a bit too colourful, grey is too dull, beige might not be formal enough… Arh…" He sighed and leaned on the cupboard that contained his clothes.

"Aw, poor princess…" Mundy came to his lover and put his hands on his waist, he kissed his lips and went for his cheeks and his neck. "Don't know what dress to choose?"

"Mundy, please, help me…" Lucien looked up with his feline eyes and Mundy's smile widened.

"You don't need to put on a suit, love. Just come as you are."

"With a pair of boxer shorts and a white tanktop? Non, Mundy."

"Nah, of course not like that, I meant normally."

"Normally I wear a suit, mon loup. But that doesn't help…" He sighed. "Which one do you think they would prefer?"

"Either beige or that navy blue one. Both make your eyes stand out, they're gorgeous…" Mundy nuzzled in his lover's neck.

"Mh… Are they…?" Lucien teased.

"Lu'... Don't be like that…" Mundy dug his fingers in Lucien's sides.

"Ooh, or else…?"

"Or else we'll be late for dinner with my parents cause I'll take care of you first…"

"Fine, I won't tease you further… for now." Lucien answered and met with Mundy's lips. He felt the Aussie's hands slither down his back and grab two handfuls of what the Aussie preferred. "Oooh…!"

"That's just to remind you how good it feels, eh."

"Liar, it was for you to remember how good it feels, non?" Lucien cocked a playful eyebrow.

"Might be… But yeah, go for beige maybe."

"Beige it will be then. And what about my hair? I was thinking of either a low ponytail or a braid, something neat and tidy."

"Both are nice but the braid is extra nice. Ends up being salt and pepper all along, it's beautiful."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. He didn't know Mundy paid attention to his looks as much.

"Well then it is settled." The Frenchman put his suits back in the cupboard except for the beige one.

"I can braid it for you if you want."

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"You know how?"

"Yeah, it's not hard."

"Let me put on my clothes first and then, yes please, I would love it." Lucien answered with a smile. "And what about you? Will you go like this?"

Mundy looked down at his polo shirt and brown trousers.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Your top is beige, it would be strange for us to wear matching colours, mon loup." Lucien buttoned his white shirt up before putting on the trousers and the vest.

"Ah, yeah… I'll get a quick shower and a change. See you in a bit luv'."

"See you."

Lucien finished dressing up and varnished his shoes again before Mundy exited the shower. He saw his silhouette cross the corridor and couldn't help but go after him, back in the bedroom. He leaned on the doorframe and watched the tall Aussie put on his clothes. First, his boxer shorts, which now covered a part of Mundy's body that always beckoned Lucien, may it be dressed or naked. Then, came a light blue polo shirt, which slid on the back with the scars - none from Lucien however, the Frenchman noted it and thought he should change that. Finally, Mundy slipped a pair of brown trousers on and slid a belt in. He was staring at his waist to adjust it when he saw two pale hands slithering from behind and lacing around his sides.

"Oh? You're here?"

"I have been, oui."

"How long've you been watchin' me?"

"A few minutes." Lucien leaned his head on Mundy's back, hugging him from behind.

"You creep…" Mundy chuckled as he finished with his belt. He then turned to Lucien and cupped his face. "You've been starin' for longer, eh?"

"I might have." Lucien smirked, his head raised to his lover.

"Pff, c'mere…" Mundy bent down to take Lucien's lips between his own. "Now, follow me."

"Oh?"

Mundy took Lucien by the hand and they went to the living-room.

"Sit down here." Mundy pulled a chair and Lucien obeyed. "Gimme a minute."

A few seconds later, the Aussie was back and stood behind Lucien.

"Right, so we said a braid, right?"

"Oui, please."

"Meow…?"

"Viens, mon bébé." Lucien tapped his lap and Perle jumped on it.

[Come, my baby.]

She lay lazily and purred while he stroked her fur.

"Right… Here we go…" Mundy was mumbling behind his back while Lucien felt his fingers part his hair and start braiding. "On top, below, on top, below, on top, below…"

Lucien smiled and tried to not move his head at all. It lasted for about a minute of Mundy chanting "on top, below" and Lucien felt his lover's fingers brush and move his locks to his will, which he adored. He relaxed and closed his eyes during the entire process until he felt that Mundy let go of his hair.

"There you go, gorgeous."

"May I see?"

"Course."

Lucien stood and headed for the bathroom, where the nearest mirror was.

"Not bad at all…"

"Oi, don't sound too surprised!"

Lucien came back with a wide smile.

"I just did not know you had a talent for hairdressing."

"Not really a talent, eh."

"It is, and a beautiful one." Mundy smiled and blushed. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's go." Mundy headed for the door.

"Attends."

[Wait.]

Mundy stopped sharp, the door knob still in his hand, and turned to Lucien. The Frenchman went to the tip of his toes and pushed his lips against Mundy's.

"I am delighted to go and meet your parents."

"Yeah, me too. Though I wish I could tell them the truth."

"Each thing has its time, as we say in French. First, you need to make sure that your relationship with them is good. They can learn about us later." Lucien was brushing Mundy's sideburns and cheeks with his thumbs.

"Yeah, you're right…" The Aussie let go of the door knob to pull his lover's waist against his own. He rested his forehead against Lucien's. "I hope they'll like you."

"Of course they will. I charmed the son, I can charm the parents too."

"You plannin' on seducing my parents now?"

Lucien moved to pull the door open and stepped out of the house.

"Your mother at least." He winked.

"Oi! Get away from her!"

Lucien snickered as they both went to their motorcycle and put on their helmets.

"I shall try my best…! But go ahead, you drive."

"You'd better…! She's my mom, bloody hell! Right, get on, darl'."

Lucien hopped on behind Mundy and hugged him tightly. After that, they flew by in the streets. But again, at some point, Lucien tapped Mundy's shoulder and the Aussie followed his favourite GPS.

"Right, this isn't pastries, eh?"

"Non, this is a flower shop, and over there, across the street, a wine one."

"Ooh, that's great."

"Come along."

Both men entered the florist's.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. How may I help?"

"We would like a bouquet, it is for an important family meeting." Lucien answered and Mundy's insides burnt when he heard him talk about 'family'.

"Any precise idea or requests?" The florist asked.

"It has to have daisies." Lucien answered. "But other than that, you are the expert."

"Very well."

"We will go shortly to the wine shop opposite you, would you mind keeping the bouquet until we come back?" Lucien asked.

"Of course. It will take me a few minutes to make it anyway. See you in a bit!"

"Many thanks. Come, Mundy."

They crossed the road and entered.

"Wow…"

They were surrounded by dark bottles, shelves of them entire rows and columns, nicely organised, of bottles that all looked the same to him.

Lucien went straight to the shopkeeper and started having a chat with him while Mundy was still observing the bottles. A lot of them had French names on them. He tried reading them, deciphering each letter and following them with his index finger, like a young boy would. He frowned. French was a nightmare to read. Too many silent letters, or letters that should be pronounced in an odd and absolutely counter-intuitive way.

"Mundy?"

Mundy's head jerked up.

"Huh? Yeah?"

"Do you have any idea what your mother will cook for tonight?"

"Uh, no idea, no…"

"Very well." Lucien turned to the shop owner again and finished his chat. A minute later, he paid for the bottle and they exited the shop with an elegant glossy paper bag in his hand.

"I'll go and grab the flowers, get ready to go." Mundy said.

"Parfait."

[Perfect.]

A moment later, they were back on the motorcycle, heading for the suburbs, and it only took them a few minutes before they reached their destination.

"Right, here we go!"

"Mundy, wait."

Mundy stopped sharp, his fist in the air, about to knock on the dark brown, wooden door.

"Yeah?"

"How do I look?" Lucien adjusted his own jacket and pushed a thin lock of silver hair behind his ear. Mundy bent down to his ear and whispered.

"You look gorgeous as ever…"

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

Mundy smiled, he moved forward to kiss Lucien but the Frenchman backed off and shook his head.

"They might see." Lucien whispered and Mundy nodded.

"You're right. Let's go."

The Aussie knocked at the door and a few seconds later, Mike opened.

"Hey Dad!"

"Micky!"

They exchanged a hug.

"Dad, this is Lucien, my housemate. Lu', this is my Dad, Mike."

They shook hands and Mundy blushed. It was absurd. He wasn't introducing Lucien as he should but still, the image of Mike and him shaking hands made the Aussie weak. He wished he could capture that image and frame it somewhere, to look at it later, when his mood would change.

And it was absurd how oblivious Mike would be and in fact was. But so was Mundy himself when he had first caught a glimpse of Lucien. Never had he imagined for one second that that man he had seen through his scope, beaten up and tied to a chair in that hangar where the alligators were to be swapped trucks - never could he imagine that man in the ski mask would be his reason for happiness.

"Nice to meet you, son." Mike said.

"The pleasure is all mine." Lucien answered.

"Come in, boys, don't stay at the door. Caroline? The boys are here!"

"Ooh! Micky!" Caroline erupted out of the kitchen and threw herself in her son's arms.

"Hey, Mum…! How's it goin'?"

"Alright-ooh! I suppose this is Lucien, isn't it?" Caroline wiped her hands on a towel and adjusted her glasses to examine the Frenchman better.

"Yeah, it's him, Mum. Lu', this is my Mum, Caroline."

"I am delighted to meet you, Madame." Lucien took Caroline's hand and bowed down to leave a polite kiss on it.

"Wooh! Good manners that is!" She said. "Mike, come and take his jacket…!"

"Would you perhaps have a vase for these flowers?" Lucien handed her the bouquet and Caroline's eyes popped out of her head.

"Of course! Of course!" She excitedly answered. "Ooh, look at these daisies…!"

"Mundy told me they were your favourites."

"Thank you, dear."

Lucien's smile was a sight to behold for Mundy, but even Caroline looked to be under his charm!

"Mike, this is for you, I hope you will enjoy it." Lucien handed Mike the bag he was holding.

"What's that? Oh, that's some wine! Hold on, let me grab my glasses to read this, come in, c'mon boys, Micky, get your friend comfy at the table…"

"Right, thanks, Dad. Mum, d'you need help with anything?"

"No, you sit with your father and your friend, I'll bring some nibbles. Are you ok with beer, Lucien?"

"Of course, Madame."

"You can call me Caroline…!"

The men sat around the table and Mike put on his glasses.

"Right… What do we have here, eh…?" The old man adjusted his glasses and put the bottle of wine a bit further from his face to read it better.

Lucien raised his head and his gaze crossed Mundy's eyes. He winked with a flash of his pearly white teeth and the Aussie melted as his face turned red.

"Here, some fresh beers, and a few nibbles to snack on…" Caroline placed them on the table. "C'mon, Mike, the wine isn't a newspaper, serve it and then read it if you want!"

"Micky, tell your Mum to gimme a minute!"

"Mum…"

"Mike, if you don't serve them the wine, I won't let you have dessert…"

"Right, I think it's time for the wine, boys, eh?" Mike uncorked the bottle and served everyone.

Lucien watched and tilted his head on the side. So that was Mundy's family. He took a second to observe them all one after the other - spooky habits die hard, as Mundy would probably say - and it made Lucien smile.

It was true that Mundy didn't share any visual resemblance with his parents. But they loved him very clearly. From the way Mike was handing his son his glass of wine, to the way Caroline ruffled his hair as she passed him, like a reflex, yes, their love was very clear.

"So, Lucien…?" Mike raised his glass. "Let's all try your wine, shall we?"

Lucien raised his glass along with Mundy and Caroline.

"Let us indeed!"

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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jess-the-vampire · 4 years ago

Text

The Demon Next Door, Chapter 8

Previous/ Next

It had only been a few weeks since that day with Jackie.

That day marco hadn't made a complete fool of himself and ruined his chances with his crush.

And as a result, on occasion he found jackie waving to him, visiting his karate lessons, even coming over to their usual table to sit with him and his friends. She had actually chosen to sit with them, instead of her usual seat. It was a jolt of surprise and marco still felt like he was dreaming, he'd been hoping someday for her to be his date to the upcoming school dance in a few months from now and that dream was closer then he thought.

Even tom and star getting along better was a relief, tom didn't disclose much details but marco got the impression the two had been meeting up on occasion to talk outside of time with marco and whatever had caused this change seemed to have worked quite well. The two were kinda laughing together and cracking jokes and actually could be in the same room together without star being how she was before around tom.

Guess that meant tom was doing just as well with his own crush.

He was pretty happy for tom, but he was also always on the lookout for him, he found himself listening closer to the gossip around the school for any of the rumors around tom. Though on the plus side he hadn't heard any yet, however that could all be due to the fact everyone knew he and tom were close and marco would probably tell tom or call them out if they heard.

And marco would, he felt he would snap.

Tom was physically stronger then him, sure.

But Marco was willing to protect his friend anyway he could and he typically wasn't quiet about it when his friends where being mistreated.

He was so relieved when Saturday hit, he was invited over to tom's house for a sleepover, some one on one time with tom was just up his ally right now. He wanted to avoid the stress as quick as possible and just hang out with tom as per usual. Star was good to have but even he was worried she'd cause him a little stress right now since even she was a little too obsessed with Brittney's nonsense.

When Star first moved in she was more oblivious to how mean that girl was, but even she had to agree all the stuff being said about tom was a little too far, and she just did nothing but get frustrated every time she heard some rumor from janna or jackie or who knows who. Star was a bit popular, so she was bound to hear more then marco normally did and the more he heard the more his mood acted up.

Tom protected him from one of the bullies who plagued him, so he was going to do the same if he could, though maybe not by using karate on the rich Asian.

But he needed to calm down and just ignore that stuff, save it for when they got back to school and keep his mind on the positives.

He could actually see tom's room, hang out, even hang out with his parents some more since they were always happy to see the boy. Those were all things to look forward to tonight, marco offered to bring a movie or some games but tom insisted this time marco enjoyed tom's own things this time around, so marco's pack came with jammies, a fresh set of clothes and bathroom needs.

Though he was having a hard time leaving as his mother kept making sure he was fully packed when marco had already checked that 8 times before this point to make sure he had everything. "Mom, i'm only going to be gone tonight, and i'm across the street, i'll be just fine...if i forgot something you can just go across the street or i can and get what i need.".

"I know sweetie, just making sure!".

This wasn't a big deal, he's slept over with star on occasion, even if it was usually on the couch because her dad was super protective of his "Delicate flower". He'd be just fine, tom probably could chop someone's arm off if they came into his room in the middle of the night if he really wanted to. Besides, his parents didn't seem like people anyone wanted to mess with at all.

He'd be safe, his only real danger was making a fool of himself.

Though with one last check his mother kissed his forehead, marco said bye to his dad and little sister and headed across the street to ring the doorbell of the Lucitors. Hopefully whoever greeted the door didn't screech at him or crush him with hugs as soon as he entered.

He hadn't had many visits that didn't have either at this point.

Thankfully it was Tom himself who answered, followed by his dad, who had probably been nagging tom just as much about being ready for marco to come over no doubt.

But nonetheless, was happy to see him.

"Marco!".

"Tom!".

Marco was quick to hug his friend as the older man took marco's bags from him and brought them inside, leaving them on the nearest couch. The boys quickly headed inside and marco was greeted by the spooky red walls and dark furniture. The place still looked like it could easily be the setting of a vampire movie but marco had gotten used to it by this point.

And he shook Mr Lucitor's hand who now that he'd seen tom's strength, he felt foolish for not expecting it before.

Tom's parents clearly gave him their strength.

Though the first thing that really hit marco was the smell of fresh pizza coming from the kitchen, with garlic bread. Tom's parents had made their own, and it was amazing just to look at. His parents made amazing food too that honestly he hoped the two families would exchange recipes at some point, Mrs Lucitor was already there and waiting for him

And she was quick to crush marco with a big hug.

Marco was already part of the family as far as they were concerned.

"Mom careful, you don't wanna get too cosy with marco, then he won't ever wanna come back", tom teased, but considering it did avoid all the embarrassment marco had at home sometimes, he might just take tom up on his offer. He and tom were quick to pile up on pizza and bread and start munching at the table, Tom's plans seem to consist of video games, movies and ice cream.

It sounded great.

Tom's dad was chatty, going off about tom's karate lessons and how tom was already almost a green belt within a few weeks of class because of his skills and fast learning. Though granted Sensei probably just wanted him to upgrade faster so he didn't have to waste more time then he already did. But Tom's parents seemed super proud and seemed to believe it was all thanks to marco.

Marco doubted he was completely the reason tom was so good so quickly but it still was rather nice to hear their praises of him.

He was usually torn apart by his peers for karate, especially being in a class of mostly young kids and for especially being a green belt when at his age he could already be a red belt by now. But that seemed to not be the case with this family, tom thought it was amazing and so did his parents, honestly it was easy to see why tom was the way he was to an extent.

Well, minis the anger issues, but maybe there were some things tom wasn't telling him.

Dinner was spent chatting and enjoying good food, thought marco noticed tom's great great uncle never showed up at the table once again. He in fact hadn't seen the guy once since they moved in despite knowing he was there and being told he was there. Maybe the guy was bedridden? Or maybe he was out for the day ? Maybe he was actually sleeping instead?

Marco just had to admit his first encounter with the man really affected him so much he couldn't not forget it, it was utterly horrifying and he nearly fell down and hurt himself on the sidewalk because of it.

He sounded unpleasant though, not someone marco really WANTED to meet, especially at a nice dinner.

"-But we've gotten better about living around here, right?", the man looked to his wife who simply petted his head gently, "It's a lot calmer then back home, the streets are quiet and the people don't try to start fights with you whenever you meet them. It's honestly pretty great, and makes life at least a little easier for us. Tom's helped us get a better idea of the area thankfully...".

Wait, fights? What kinda weird place did they live before this point? Were they living in a violent community? They didn't read off as anyone who'd have previously lived in a violent city full of criminals but then again marco couldn't prove that for sure either.

Sounded crazy, maybe that was why tom was so good at fighting.

Tom finished his last scoop of ice cream before sighing, "Well, me and marco outta head up, uh...we'll let you know if we need anything or...you need us...uh...g'night!". He was quickly racing upstairs and he probably expected marco to follow with and his parents to leave but his dad grabbed his arm and shook his head, "Nah nah, we'll watch the movie with you down here...you both can go up later...not that we don't trust you boys but we want to keep an eye on you.".

Tom quickly seemed annoyed.

What did they need to worry about? Tom was...mostly responsible, at least enough to go to marco's alone, what was so bad about here?

But tom didn't put up a fight, he sighed and headed up to change, marco excusing himself to go up and follow to get into his own pjs. Tom was clearly upset and marco didn't want to sit here awkwardly while tom was in a bad mood, he wanted to go up and check on him to make sure the guy was alright. Seems whatever tom was upset about, well it was something marco had yet to really understand for sure.

"Tom?".

He was on the upper floor but then remembered he hadn't been up here before and didn't know which was tom's room, looking around before signalling it out through observation and knocking.

After all, he doubted anyone but tom would have a picture of him and tom on the front of his bedroom.

He knocked again and tom let out a little "Yeah?".

"Hey? Tom? You ok? I uh...I need to get changed and uh...", tom opened the door quickly marco finding the boy in a tank top and sweatpants, already changed and ready. "Oh...uh...sure...c'mon in...". He opened the door wider for marco to be let in and marco was greeted by red walls, rock posters, a tx, game system, large bed with flame print, a stereo, and so much more.

Though something was quick to catch marco's eye about it.

On a table nearby, was a cage, consisting of a little bunny rabbit inside, sniffing the bars and looking up at the teen. Marco was super quick to get up close and get a good look at the adorable thing, "Tom! You never told me you had a pet! What's their name?". Tom shrugged and leaned against the nearest wall, he was still irritated about what happened downstairs but he welcomed the change of topic, "Oh...marshmallow...he's...he's cool.".

"I've always wanted pets but never got any...star has dogs though, like...a bunch of cute puppies...so they're nice to see, but they're the closest thing I've ever had.".

"Puppies...huh...", tom said, pondering as marco wiggled his fingers at the bunny, "Can i take him out and pet him?". Tom didn't object, in fact he seemed happy to know marco was interested in his little rabbit, opening the cage for him and carefully showing marco how to hold his pet rabbit safely. "Marshmallow was basically my therapy animal when I was going through...issues...he's been my friend through it all.".

Marco softly pet the rabbit's head, taking a seat on tom's punk bed and putting the rabbit on his lap.

"Well, that's awesome tom...you seem to take great care of him!".

Tom beamed, "Thanks, he means a lot to me, so I try my best to take great care of him...he loves people...".

He watched marco with his rabbit and his face seemed to soften quite a bit in affection, before he turned his eyes away and tried to retain his cool demenor.

"Well anyways, sorry uh...about my parents...I wasn't expecting them to pull something like this, I thought it'd be more private but uh...guess they feel more comfortable uh...hanging with us for a little bit.". It was rather strange, but marco couldn't complain too much, he was in tom's house, tom's parents made the rules here, if they wanted to watch with them they could.

As long as they didn't well, make things weird it couldn't be that bad right?

"It's fine dude, I love your parents...we'll go downstairs and have a lot of fun ok? I'm just happy to get to hang out with you!".

Tom snickered, 'Yeah, yeah you're right, i'm happy to get to hang out with you too.".

Well as marco got changed, tom quickly left the room, and marco placed his rabbit back before following the boy out to go and join him downstairs. They'd get to hang out more in tom's room later when they were ready for bed. His matching jammies fit comfortably and he was careful not to slip on the stairs on his way back down the join the family sitting in the living room.

Seems tom's parents had picked out a superhero movie to watch with them, which was fine with marco, at least it wasn't something cheesy like his parents always insisted on watching when he was with them.

And tom had nachos and a bowl of popcorn ready for him, and marco looked delighted.

"You made my nachos?"

And the boy grinned back at him, holding up the plate, "Yeah of course! Wouldn't be fun without them right?".

And marco felt a ping of affection at the sight.

The movie had actually been fun, tom's parents were actually quiet outside of a few laughs and tom and marco got to talk among themselves when they weren't watching and snacking during the film. Though marco could tell tom once and awhile was glancing over at him, for one reason or another. Though that wasn't something marco focused on too much.

Tom was probably looking to see if he was having fun more then anything.

If anything, the most awkward thing was during the halfway point when they both grabbed for nachos and instead grabbed each other's cheese covered hands.

Marco didn't notice at first, as he wasn't even thinking about it, but the wiggle of tom's hand in his grasp seemed to snap something inside of him, and that immediately made his heart stop.

it only lasted for a few seconds but marco's face burned before he tugged his hand away, avoiding tom's gaze entirely as to basically avoid what just happened. He needed to relax, it was an accident and now he was getting worked up over it for no reason. Tom's parents hadn't seemed to notice and tom himself wasn't making as big of a deal out of it.

So all this was doing was making marco look weird, overreacting to what was clearly an accident.

And yet his hand never re-entered the nacho bowl again that night.

That didn't count as holding hands, it didn't, they just accidentally grabbed each other, way different. Couples held hands, friends accidentally held hands or just held them for practice, or comfort, and now he was freaking out even more then before. He took a deep breath, he needed to just finish the movie and move on, they had the rest of the night to have fun after all.

Though he was having a hard time paying attention to the rest of the movie, he didn't even seem to notice when the credits begun to roll. Not that it mattered, he'd seen this movie before, but it was telling how much the rest of the film had been a blur to him since that moment. Tom turned the movie off and nodded behind him, marco looked to see the boy's parents fast asleep.

Time to go, before they woke up.

Tom and marco quickly grabbed the food and headed upstairs, right back into the tall boy's room. Tom looked more then happy to get out of there, though marco was still distracted by the semi hand-holding they just did. Tom putting the food down and stretching, pointing to his smaller tv nearby, "You can pick out a game you like if you want? Go right ahead."

He quickly headed over to check on his rabbit as the awkward boy avoided his gaze to go and put his attention elsewhere. He needed to stop, this was supposed to be a fun night with tom and he was letting something small that seemed to not bother tom at all bother him. He should just pick a game and try and enjoy the rest of the night with tom, have a good time.

He looked under the tv, a small table under it with a cupboard.

Opening it, marco went looking through the piles of games for something to play before stumbling across something he didn't expect.

"Tom...is this a love sentence cd?".

Tom turned around like lightning, looked red in the face as he looked for an excuse, clearly not intending for marco to have found this at all. Tom looked like he was about to make an excuse but then marco's eyes lit up like the prettiest stars ever. "I didn't know you liked love sentence too!? Was this what was in the package i dropped off for you? That's so cool!".

And tom's face of embarrassment turned into one of shock.

But the blush was still very much present.

"You-you like love sentence?", he stammered, marco standing up with excitement, "Yeah! Who doesn't!? You should've told me sooner, we could've shared favorite songs and jammed out together weeks ago!". Marco's excitement seemed to entirely make him forget about earlier, but now tom was the one getting blushy at the sight of the excited teen who loved the same band as him.

And his lips formed a small smile.

"Yeah...uh...i've liked them for awhile...uh...I didn't know you liked them marco...I thought-".

"It's ok, c'mon, before we play, can we put on tunes?", he looked almost as if he was begging tom to do it and tom couldn't not do it now. Laughing and taking the cd from marco, "Ok, but let's try and not wake up my family ok? I don't need that right now.". But marco didn't mind, as long as they did it regardless, tom finding an playerand quickly putting in his cd in a Love Sentence designed player.

Whoa.

Most people didn't use cds that much but there was something nice about having them regardless.

"What's your favorite song?".

"Awesome feeling, no question", tom answered back quickly, "Yours?".

"It changes a lot, but I do like that song a lot too.".

"Cool", tom was clearly trying to play himself off as cool despite how giddy he clearly was and it was something marco couldn't help but smile and laugh at. Tom was kinda more of a dweeb then he ever imagined.

It was nice to see tom so happy about something he liked.

Marco wondered what else they had in common as far as interests, maybe he and tom were not as "opposite" as people like Brittney or Star liked to assume about them, maybe they were two peas in a pod. Honestly tom could have a lot more stuff about him marco didn't know about, and now he found he wanted to know more and more about the guy.

The song was turned on and tom was already humming and singing to himself, he already knew all the words so perfectly, he was such a geek. Since he didn't say anything marco had to guess tom rarely shared this kinda thing with anyone, and if he did share it he seemed afraid he'd be made fun of for liking it. Maybe cause he felt it ruined his cool "Bad boy" look?

Who knew tom had anxieties like this?

Marco almost wanted to reach out and hug him, but tom looked so happy right now and he was quick to start dancing to himself, marco comfortable enough to stop thinking too hard and joining him. Tom and him singing and dancing together and marco had to admit he found tom's singing voice not half bad, even though they both seemed nervous to sing in front of each other.

But tom was happy, and he felt happy.

Tom quickly got tired and feel on his bed, laughing, his laughter like music.

Marco hoped he got to see tom like this more often.

Happy and joyful and playful and full of so much life.

And Brittney wanted to claim this boy of all is in a gang of all things?

He liked bunnies, pink, boy bands, if he was in a gang he was the softest gang member ever.

Marco could tell he was staring at tom a little too much, quickly averting his eyes and tom continued to laugh. "I should've said something about love sentence before, it's just one of those things i've never been comfortable sharing about with anyone...if you looked in my closet you'd find a shrine and everything...it's a little embarrassing is all. I didn't think I'd make any friends if people knew...".

"Hey I wouldn't judge...you know me. If It makes you feel better I wear ballerina shoes around the house sometimes...", tom actually looked bemused, "Really? I didn't know that". He didn't seem hurtful or mean or anything, he actually might of been more touched marco was being so open about it. "Yeah and I also like dresses...and skirts...I-I don't wear them in public but y'know...I find them all comfortable.".

"That's cool dude, I hope someday I'll get to see them...I bet you look great".

"You think so?".

"Yeah, of course.".

Marco felt red-faced, he turned away quickly, smiling, but also not wanting tom to notice how much is words seemed to be effecting marco. He would definitely tease him if he knew and marco couldn't live that down. The music was turned off but tom still returned to the bed, taking a seat, "Hey...marco? Uh...y'know, i've never really been good with people...or being a friend...so..I'm never sure if I'm doing it right but um...thanks for uh...helping me, and just being supportive of me...uh".

Tom still seemed bad with words but the gesture was appreciated.

"Hey it's ok...I guess after dealing with whatever happened with your anger issues...it's probably hard trying to make friends again.", his words seemed to bring up some memories back for tom, the boy's smile fading and his eyes wandering to the ceiling. "I uh...I really screwed up...back then...I was just so...angry, all the time...and...It ruined everything and I just...Marco I just felt like i'd never get better.".

"But you did!".

"Yeah but at the time...I just...marco I thought...".

"Yeah?".

"I thought I wasn't cut out to have friends...or...a girlfriend...I just...I felt...alone...and that things wouldn't get better.", he sounded sad, and marco imagined tom years ago, sitting alone by himself. No hanging out with friends, staying in his room all day, never speaking to anyone, being terrified of himself and his own self harming those he cares about.

He must've been so miserable, it was so hard to imagine seeing him happy now, but that pain must've torn the boy up for so long.

"Well...I'm proud you've made it through, you're working hard and you're doing a great job...", marco said, wanting tom's smile to return back and his musical laughter.

"Well, It wouldn't have been so great if someone didn't give me a chance...you...gave me that chance...it means a lot.", that was true, tom came here probably not expecting to be given much of a chance by anyone and marco did, giving tom time to grow and learn. It was honestly by pure chance tom ended up here, that marco ended up being the student to speak to him and offer help.

It could've been star, or janna, or even jackie.

He almost liked to think of it as fate in a strange way, like thy were meant to meet and become friends.

He wondered if the same thoughts had even run through tom's own head since the day they met. If Tom ever felt like he and Marco meeting was fate and they were always meant to become friends and help each other out together. It was probably wishful thinking on his part but he couldn't help it, it gave him a rather warm feeling to think about it.

"Games?", marco said to tom, challangingly.

Tom smirked back, "Games...let's go.".

Tom was passed out on his bed, tired and belly full of snacks, marco sleeping on a makeshift mattress nearby, but wide awake on his end. Maybe it was all the sugar he had but he couldn't sleep nearly as well, his thoughts mainly focusing on what happened today at their sleepover. He didn't understand what was up with him, he got so weird today.

Getting frozen, blushing, staring at tom talk, his insides getting weird.

He just felt so...strange...and he didn't know how to explain it? Nerves maybe? He was really nervous about him embarrassing himself in front of tom after all.

Whatever it was, he was having a hard time sleeping right now.

His mind was getting too distracted and having it be so distracted made it harder for him to properly fall asleep, all he did was toss and turn and just...look at tom. Tom looked so happy, he was so peaceful. Looking at him however seemed to only make marco feel even weirder and he quickly forced himself to turn away from the boy, trying to go back to sleep and distract himself from whatever he was feeling.

He just needed to sleep, and things could go back to normal tomorrow.

"Marco?"

Marco woke up with groggy eyes, clearly he hadn't slept much last night and we was still tired. The blurry outline of tom in front of him, smiling and laughing above him and his tired body and brain, "We're making chocolate chip pancakes, the sooner you get up the sooner you can get to make some in the shape you want.". Marco took a few blinks before tom fully came into view as his usual goofy looking self, messy hair, pink streak, green eyes and everything.

Though his close proximity made marco jump, his heartbeat rapidly beating and his face red again.

"Uh...I".

Tom pulled away, ushering him to the door, "Whoops, sorry for scaring you...you ready? You aren't sick on ice cream right?".

"Uh...I...No no...I'll be right there.".

Tom nodded to him and started heading downstairs right away, marco shaking off his thoughts and hitting himself in the face to wake himself up and well...pull himself together in general. He needed to focus, otherwise he would barely get to enjoy himself with tom at all and just be thinking about stuff that didn't matter. He didn't want to ruin their sleepover by being distracted like that.

He came here to have fun, and he that's what he wanted to do from start to finish.

He quickly fixed himself up to join tom downstairs with his family, the young boy super excited to see him finally arrive and eat with him and his family, who were also in their pjs, just as excited to see marco join them. Marco felt himself calm down just a little, immediately following tom into the kitchen as his father sat at the table drinking what marco assumed to be coffee.

He gave marco a smile and a wave and pointed to the nearby kitchen where his family was working.

Chocolate chip pancakes huh?

Honestly those sounded good right about now, though marco would be sick all day from having so much sugar in these last few hours, only star could survive this much suger at a time.

Eh, he'd live, he was pretty hungry for the time being.

As soon as he walked in he could spot tom's mother pouring some batter in the shape of a rabbit, a bat, a skull, and a few dogs.

Animals and being spooky, their family in a nutshell.

Tom took the plate of pancakes that was already full over to the table to set up and marco was quick to tell his mother some cool pancake shapes she could make for them. Soon enough they came back into the dining room with a platter of pancakes that looked like hearts, bones, and music notes. Syrup and butter on the now set up table for the family.

Apply juice being poured out for everyone as they started grabbing their pancakes and chowing down on the surgery goodness. Tom's family all in good spirits and complimenting mother lucitor's cooking. Things seemed to actually be going rather well, the room easing up for marco and finally back to being as comfortable as always around these folks.

What had he even gotten so worried about anyway?

Everything was fine, they were having a good time and it as just a regular fun sleepover between best friends. Just handing out and watching movies and getting snacks and just having a good time together as friends. Friends who sang together and danced together and grabbed at each other's hands and laughed and supported each other and felt amazing around each other.

This had been so much more fun then his ones with star, but then again usually either her family drive him and her nuts or star plunders his home into chaos. He loved their sleepovers but tom's felt so...calm and fun and just...great. Something about it was different then star's in ways's marco couldn't yet explain, he just somehow knew it was different in a good way.

And he wanted more of it.

"So marco, tom's been telling us you've managed to make friends with this jackie girl recently? She sounds rather nice from what i've been hearing, i'm glad to hear you're helping tom make new friends!". Oh, right, jackie, the girl he was getting closer with and was still trying to pursue, he hadn't even been thinking of her much throughout this whole sleepover.

"Oh, well, i've known her technically since I was little, but we just now got close...and uh...yeah she's hanging out with me and tom."

"Well she sounds lovely, honestly the more friends tom makes out here the better!".

Yeah, jackie indeed had been a good friend recently, to him and tom, even star. She wasn't as close as the three of them seemed to be getting, but she had been hanging out with them more often that hanging out with her just started to feel natural for marco. He didn't seem to freak out around her as much, he still had his moments, but he was getting so comfortable around her.

"Yeah, she's great, jackie's great".

Why did he sound so awkward all of a sudden? Probably because talking about his crush with tom's parents was a little too weird for him, he didn't even talk about it much with is own parents after all.

He finished up the rest of breakfast and got himself dressed in tom's room, gathering his stuff to head back home, the fun was over and it was time to get back to his parents and sister. At least with tom being across the street, it meant they could do this kinda stuff more often. Honestly marco was really looking forward to that after how everything went.

Even though he was nervous, he still wanted more nights like this.

"Hey...", tom said, leaning against the entrance of the door, marco collecting all his things and clearly spooked by tom's sudden appearance. Tom laughed a bit before coming in for a hug, marco wrapping his hands around tom's warm body. "Thanks for coming over, it was really great hanging out with you...I hope I get to see you tomorrow and everything".

"Yeah, yeah, of course.", marco hugging him tightly, "I'll text you later tonight...ok?".

"Ok, yeah we'll text and talk more later...say hi to mariposa for me!".

They disbanded and marco started heading on his way out, hugging immediately by tom's parents and crushed under their strength. Mrs Lucitor fixing up marco's hair before he headed out the door, tom waving to him until marco got back inside his home once again, greeted by his happy parents and baby sister sitting in the family room together and with fresh cookies for the boy's return.

"Marco, hijo! How was your time over at tom's ?", his dad quickly grabbed marco's things to move them upstairs and marco felt a blush creep across his face, though he was currently chocking it up as just feeling hot for the time being. "It was...It was great...I had a really great time, and I think me and tom are even closer now, at least I want to think so".

"Well that's wonderful marco! Whenever you want to bring tom over to sleep over here, you just let us know!".

"Yeah...yeah...of course.", marco said, thinking back to last night, emotions mixed and all over the place. What happened last night to get him in such a mess right now? He took a cookie off the nearby plate set out for him, thinking back to tom's laughter and smile and how warm the guy was. Till his thoughts warded off and he took a bite of the fresh cookie in his hand.

Looking back at the creepy house across the street, and the window to tom's bedroom.

"I'll let you know".

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #svstfoe #fanfiction #fanfic #tomco #tom the demon #tom lucitor #star butterfly #marco #marco diaz #king lucitor #queen lucitor #dave lucitor #wrathmelior lucitor #my art

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julie1706 · 4 years ago

Text

Julie’s incredibly aesthetic incredibly autumny list of movies that she maybe recommends:

Alright! Hi there!

My name is Julie, and I really love fall. I love hot tea, warm blankets, candles, ghost stories, fog and I really, really love rain. I never get tired of any of the aspects of fall, but I think the easiest way to really soak up the atmosphere (aside from amazing books, which I don’t really have the time for), is movies! Here, “autumny” movies.

But that’s a really vague term, and I think many people have a very individual idea of what a fall movie is, that don’t really line up with mine. So the most obvious thing seems to me, to make one myself.

I’m guessing one, maybe two or three people will see this, and I count myself as one of them. The others (hej Sif og Malin!!) might not even get to read this, but if they do, I hope they like it. I hope you like it, Malin and Sif! Also, I love you! And miss you!

Right. I’ve seen a lot of examples of the “list of movies to watch in the fall/autumn”, and they’re all fine and great, but I guess I’ve never been completely satisfied with them, as I mentioned.

So after like 10 minutes of research, I’ve made up my own list, of movies I thought seemed interesting or just plain cozy and nice. I admit, they aren’t ranked, sorry, and I haven’t watched all of them, so a good deal of these will really just be mentioned because of optimism. Also, I don’t think there’s a lot of scary ones, so don't worry.

And I promise I will mention if they’re very spooky. I’ll put a warning like: “Warning! Spooky!”, at the top or something. That should do it.

Lets get started! :-)

1. Practical Magic

This first one I actually saw some years ago, with my mom, when I was much younger. I liked it, but I have a feeling I will like it even more, if I watch it today. A really classic halloween, witchy movie, that was surprisingly touching in the family aspect!

Official synopsis:

Two witch sisters, raised by their eccentric aunts in a small town, face closed-minded prejudice and a curse which threatens to prevent them ever finding lasting love.

//Not very spooky, as I remember it. But good! Lovely witchy aesthetics!

2. Silence of the Lamps

Ugh, I love this movie! That might be a not so good thing to say, it’s really twisted. But I like how creepy it always is, no matter how much i watch it, and how the twists and turns never fail to be interesting, even though I know the plot by heart now. I love Clarisse, I love the foggy, grim nature of the movie, and I don’t really love Hannibal, he’s creepy, but you can’t deny that Anthony Hopkins really carry this movie! Perfect serial killer acting. If that’s a thing.

Official Synopsis:

A young F.B.I. cadet must receive the help of an incarcerated and manipulative cannibal killer to help catch another serial killer, a madman who skins his victims.

//VERY spooky! Or just plain scary. Sif - do not watch!! Many people are killed in many, gross ways.

3. Witch

Haven’t seen this one! I really want to, and have since it came out, but there haven’t really been any (legal) places to see it. I love the tension that was present even in the trailer, and the whole aspect of an oppressed young girl evolving and breaking free in the scariest way possible is really interesting. Not all horror movies are my thing, but I really hope this one will be! And I love everything about witches, so.

Official synopsis:

A family in 1630s New England is torn apart by the forces of witchcraft, black magic, and possession.

//Warning! Just from the trailer, I can conclude that this one is very scary.

4. Julie and Julia

This one I haven’t actually seen either! I think I’ve spotted among my mom’s dvds, but nope, haven’t seen it. I don’t really know a lot about Julia Child either, but it seems like a super-heartwarming film, so I hurried to include it!

Official Synopsis:

Julia Child's story of her start in the cooking profession is intertwined with blogger Julie Powell's 2002 challenge to cook all the recipes in Child's first book.

//This one seems safe.

5. The Addams Family (Both of them are good!)

This one, the “first” one, I saw last year. It’s actually a remake of an older movie, which is apparently based on an even older comic -who knew? And there’s a second one, following this one, I might add later. But tt was so good! Gah! I loved it, and I’m definitely rewatching this year. Wow the whole vibe of this family is fantastic, and I wish more families in movies were as dedicated to an aesthetic as the Addams! Watch it! It’s so nice!

Official Synopsis:

Con artists plan to fleece an eccentric family using an accomplice who claims to be their long-lost uncle.

//I know it seems scary, but trust me, it’s fine! It’s really more funny than spooky. You’ll enjoy it, trust me!

6. Hocus Pocus

Alright, never seen this one! But when I joined tumblr, the americans were always bringing this one up, and it’s always included in those lists I was talking about earlier, and again, witches, so a no-brainer for me, to include on this list. Man I can’t wait to see it, I hope I’ll like it.

Official Synopsis:

A curious youngster moves to Salem, where he struggles to fit in before awakening a trio of diabolical witches that were executed in the 17th century.

//I have no idea what the spooky-level is in this, but it doesn’t seem that bad.

7. Halloween (the original)

I have wanted to see this in FOREVER! It’s such a classic, and a really iconic, classic, older horror movie. I don’t actually know why I haven’t seen it yet, it might only be because there was no place to watch it, the last time I checked. I hope it has changed, I really want to see it. It has all the classic tropes, and a scary serial killer, it really is a peak-halloween movie. Spot-on name, huh!

Official Synopsis:

Fifteen years after murdering his sister on Halloween night 1963, Michael Myers escapes from a mental hospital and returns to the small town of Haddonfield, Illinois to kill again.

//Might be a bit too scary for some.

8. The Princess Bride

This is so good!! All the characters are straight of a fairy tale (literally), but they’re neither flat or boring. And the love story! Ah! I loooove it! I really enjoyed it last year, when I watched it, so I understand why it’s become such a classic. And there’s so many iconic lines in this movie. The whole mood of it is such good, and the plot isn’t the craziest thing, so watch it to relax!

Official Synopsis:

While home sick in bed, a young boy's grandfather reads him the story of a farmboy-turned-pirate who encounters numerous obstacles, enemies and allies in his quest to be reunited with his true love.

//Not scary, fret not!

9. The Craft

Have never seen or heard about this movie, until the morning, when I compiled this list. I kind of want to though, now that I’m promised 90′s teenage witches. Hell yeah! The more witches the merrier!

Official Synopsis:

A newcomer to a Catholic prep high school falls in with a trio of outcast teenage girls who practice witchcraft, and they all soon conjure up various spells and curses against those who anger them.

//No idea how spooky. Might be a little scary.

10. Sleepy Hollow (the one with Johnny Depp)

The legend of the Headless Horseman is famous, so that one I know. But this movie, which is based on that story, I haven’t seen. I can guess, though, the vibe from it’s original source material, and Johnny Depp and the male lead, and that makes me want to watch it! Also, how can you not, when you see all that fog?? So spooky and mysterious! I love fog!

Official Synopsis:

Ichabod Crane is sent to Sleepy Hollow to investigate the decapitations of three people, with the culprit being the legendary apparition, The Headless Horseman.

//Might be, like, ghost story-spooky. Or Tim Burton-spooky. Either of those. Hm. I don’t think it’s that bad?

11. Scream

I LOVE SCREAM. SUCH AN ICONIC HORROR MOVIE. THANK YOU FOR USING ALL THOSE CLASSIC TROPES!! I love everything about this movie, and I might actually put it on when I’m done with this post, and watch it with a cup of tea and some popcorn if I can find some. The characters are delightfully flat and simple, what you see is what you get, and that actually makes this movie even better! It really feels like you’re watching THE halloween movie, it’s delightfully creepy and spooky, and I love it all. So. Much. Also - the lovely 90′s aesthetic is very much present in this one!

Official Synopsis:

A year after the murder of her mother, a teenage girl is terrorized by a new killer, who targets the girl and her friends by using horror films as part of a deadly game.

//Spooky! If serial killers are not you thing, don’t watch it. Not that it’s my thing either, but, uh, if watching characters be chased and killed off by a masked individual really freaks you out, stay clear of this one :-)

12. Dark Shadows

Love this movie. Watched it in the cinema, have it on DVD, have watched it numerous times since, and I always enjoy it. Another Depp-movie, and he really pulls it off in this one, as a creepy but also weirdly funny vampire, who has lost his one true love, and wakes up in the 70′s (i think), to help his relatives, now living in his ancestral home, with getting back on their feet. A lot of wild stuff happens in this movie, and I adore it.

Official Synopsis:

An imprisoned vampire, Barnabas Collins, is set free and returns to his ancestral home, where his dysfunctional descendants are in need of his protection.

//Actually not that spooky! It’s not that bad, I think. Some places are a little scary, but there’s enough of humor present, that it should be fine!

13. Eve’s Bayou

I had never heard of this movie until this morning! But wow! It looks so dramatic and promising, doesn’t it? We will just have to see, I guess!

Official Synopsis:

What did little Eve see--and how will it haunt her? Husband, father and womanizer Louis Batiste is the head of an affluent family, but it's the women who rule this gothic world of secrets, lies and mystic forces.

//I have no idea. Really. I hope it’s a little bit spooky!

14. Clue

I have just played the game, sorry. And I enjoyed that, so I hope I will enjoy this too! No, I know I will, I love these stories, with really defined characters, like when someone is named “the soldier”, or “the socialite”. I’m sold, when stories like that are introduced to me. I really want to watch this movie! Also - young Tim Curry! Cool!

Official Synopsis:

Six guests are anonymously invited to a strange mansion for dinner, but after their host is killed, they must cooperate with the staff to identify the murderer as the bodies pile up.

//Nah. You’re good, with this one. Don’t worry.

15. Every Agatha Christie Movie

Yeah, sorry I want to watch every single film adaptation of her stories, and love them dearly. None of them can be bad, to me. But the only one I have watched, is the “Murder of the Orient Express”, and if I have to describe how much i love this one, this list will go on for much too long. I just really love this movie. I love the characters, I love the scenography, I love the choreography, just - Everything! It’s so pretty, and you will NEVER figure out the ending! I didn’t, at least. Watch it! It’s so good!

Official Synopsis:

When a murder occurs on the train on which he's travelling, celebrated detective Hercule Poirot is recruited to solve the case.

//Don’t worry about spookyness - there’s none! But watch it!

16. Twilight

Perfect Autumn vibes! There is darkness, fog, rain, coldness, weird pale vampires, a nice love story - and most of it is out in a forest! Amazing! This whole movie seems to consist of only blue and green tones, in varying degrees of darkness, and I always sit with the feeling, that i can almost smell the rain and damp earth in these scenes. Great movie! Even greater use of atmosphere!

Official Synopsis:

Bella Swan moves to Forks and encounters Edward Cullen, a gorgeous boy with a secret.

//Not spooky!

17. Knives Out

Saw this in the cinema with my brother! I really love the main characters, and the plot is great too - I couldn't figure it out at all! I think it is a very creative, “new! approach to a murder mystery, and I applaud! Very autumny, very great sweaters from the female lead! Actually most of them have nice clothes, for this crisp, cold mystery movie!

Official Synopsis:

A detective investigates the death of a patriarch of an eccentric, combative family.

//Not very spooky! Don’t worry!

18. 10 Things I Hate About You

I watched this when i was like, 12, and definitely didn’t appreciate it. I think it based on Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew”. It’s one the best Rom-Coms I’ve ever seen! The dialogue is funny, the acting is fine, and the love stories are very cute! Also, I just adore Kate, like, in general! She’s so sour and surly! Watch this one, when you want to unwind and relax! Maybe with your friends. Or alone, that’s cool too!

Official Synopsis:

A pretty, popular teenager can't go out on a date until her ill-tempered older sister does.

//Not spooky, lol.

19. Mona Lisa Smile

I haven’t seen this one, except for the very last few minutes, on evening when my mom and I was zapping channels. So I have very little, very confusing knowledge of this movie, based on an ending, with no context. But my friend told me about it once, and wow, it sounds heartwarming! And Julia Roberts is pretty great, normally!

Official Synopsis:

A free-thinking art professor teaches conservative 1950s Wellesley girls to question their traditional social roles.

//Not spooky!

Well then! That was all the movies I had the time to compile this morning! I might add more, I’m sure there’s a few classics, I have forgotten!

I hope you have a great fall, with many chances to be with your family and friends, and experience all the amazing things this read, yellow, brown and orange season has to offer! Have a great day - and thank you for reading!

- Julie :-)

#autumn #movie recommendation #movie list #fall #fall aesthetic

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tomishaped · 4 years ago

Text

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters

• Chapter One •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part One

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they had reached the car Dean made quick work of the door locks and got them both inside before he punched it, only leaving squealing tires and smoke behind them as they took off. Dean didn’t start to relax till they were a mile or so away from the group of demons, still keeping an eye on the mirrors though just in case. “You really pissed someone off," he said with a grin as he glanced over at the other while he drove.

Izzy did manage to force himself to relax once they were in the car, though Dean still happened to look tense with the way he was looking out his mirrors for someone. Honestly, it probably helped the demon to relax with the fact that Izrael couldn't feel Dagon as close anymore. She was either losing interest or losing track of them for now, either way that worked for him. "Huh?" He was honestly confused at first when Dean said that, "Why would you think I pissed some- oh! Because of all that? Right. Yeah. They don't seem to fond of me, do they? I should probably stop crashing into their parties like that."

Izrael shifted in the seat a little and rolled his eyes when he saw the man look out his mirrors again, "You can stop doing that now. We're fine, mommy lost us," he said with a shrug, leaning back in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. He was ready to get out of the Winchesters car now, and he would really like to do it without having to kill the hunter next to him in order to keep him from following or trying to track him. Even if he didn't have an issue with killing humans, he didn't know which way Dean's soul would go now and having it back in the pit after he killed him could possibly become… problematic. "So uh, yeah, you can just drop me off whenever now and can go get back too… whatever the hell you were doing before joining me at that lovely party tonight. I'm actually supposed to be at a different party right now anyways, so anywhere is good."

Dean snickered when the other said that they had crashed a few parties, it made sense. He did raise an eyebrow when he was told that the horde had backed off of them. Granted he hadn’t noticed any one but still, he never trusted demons to give up. “To be honest, I was out looking for a good time… guess I found it,” he said with a wicked grin, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from the fight and sprint to the car. “Rest of my evening is open if you want some back up,” he offered the blond. “Not saying you can’t handle yourself, I saw your moves back there but… twenty to one is a bit much,” he said while giving him a bit of a doubtful side look.

This is what Dean thought of as a good time? The human was either suicidal or crazy. Sure, Izzy did have fun doing shit like this too, but he was a demon- he was fucking crazy. "Mmm, yeah… it was a bit much till you showed up. Definitely would have ended up losing this jacket," Izrael laughed a little at Dean and shook his head, "See, I haven't gone and learned my lesson yet it seems since I'm definitely gonna be crashing one of their parties again. Gotta find it first though, and I can't do that in a strangers car."

Dean raised an eyebrow when the blond mentioned that they weren’t done yet and was looking to start a similar party to where he just found them. Ok sure he had been doing stupid stuff since he got back but he had an excuse. He was trying to repress what felt like forty years of Hell - literal Hell. So what was this kid's excuse? She might be crazy, but her crazy was also kinda hot and hunters like this don’t tend to stick in one place long because of the next big hunt. Besides, too often if they stayed in one place for long then all the enemies they made along the way had a tendency to catch up to them. “I can drop you off wherever your next party is so you don’t get jumped on the way again…” Dean trailed off a little as he drove, “could at least tell me your name before you get yourself killed.”

Izrael smiled at the hunter. "Why would I give someone I've never met in this life my name? Doesn't sound too smart. Besides, I don't see you passing over that information either."

Dean grinned. “Sorry, thought you picked it up before things got hairy. Names Dean, Dean Winchester," he said as he held a hand out to shake as he drove, glancing at the blond but mostly keeping his eyes on the road. “You know demons can’t keep their big mouths shut, if your next party is anything like that one, they’re going to be ready for you and you’re going to lose more than your jacket, sweetheart," he said in a matter of fact tone. “Might be a better idea to show up with back up and armed to the teeth,” he offered with a mischievous grin. “Lucky for you I know the perfect place.”

His excuse? His absolute only memories were of hell. Turning into a demon the way he had had wiped out all his human memories and the little demon only knew the last sixty years he had spent in hell training to do just this. He wasn't trying to repress hell, why repress when it was all he knew? He was just doing what Asmodues sent him off to do, and with the youngest prince of hell being the closest person to the blond and having nothing else to really do… he listened. He enjoyed killing other demons, it was a task he found fun. But when your job is to kill any demon that stands against the man you're working for, you don't exactly make any friends. And being alone only gave him more time to hunt down Asmodues's enemies. It was a vicious never ending cycle that wasn't going to change anytime soon as far as Izrael could tell. Hell either hated him, feared him, or admired him from afar - very afar. No one was brave enough to chance getting on Izzy's bad side. And those that were like the hoard tonight that actually tried to kill him were just too stupid to stay away and deserved to die anyways as far as he was concerned.

Of course he knew who Dean was once he heard his name. But the hunter didn't need to know that Izrael had heard of him. He eyed the other’s hand for a moment before he sighed and half gave in to the man, though didn't reach his own hand out, "Izzy Hilton," he said, using the name that Asmodues had given him for when he had to pretend to be human. Though he had no idea that it actually was his name. That Asmodues called him Izrael to see if any of the once nineteen year old’s memories would spark with little clues like that. It never did. "They're always on the lookout for me… wouldn't be anything new…" he said with a little shrug, getting the gut feeling that this hunter was not about to let him go off on his own anytime soon. The last thing the little demon needed was to do spend time with a fucking Wincester, especially the one that spent all that time in hell. "No offense, but I don't really work with others. Thanks for the help back there and everything, but you're Dean Winchester… so you and I working together is a bad idea. Trust me."

With both hands back on the wheel, Dean snorted when Izzy said that demons watching out was nothing new. He understood that, that's what made the Bunker so beautiful. It was the definition of a safe house for spooky shit and basically everything else. He sucked some air between his teeth when it seemed the other knew who he was by name, having heard some of the stuff hunters thought of him while he was putting in time at the Roadhouse. “Fair, I mean we did just meet and I also just saved your ass from a fucking gaggle of demons, but okay,” he said, half joking. “We don’t know each other, and inviting you to my secret Men of Letters bunker can seem a little Silence of the Lambs but I promise, imma damn puppy dog compared to your normal party guests,” he said,. Ane yes, he did just name drop the Men of Letters to see if that helped his case. Dean wasn’t a creep and if Izzy wanted out he’d drop them off wherever they wanted but all horn-dog habits aside, he wouldn’t rest well if he did. He’d probably end up asking around and looking into this pretty Izzy Hilton to see what her story was about. “Again, I know bunker can be off putting, but this place is huge, over twenty bedrooms to pick from. It’s armed to the teeth so nothing is getting in. I have one of the few keys to get in but you can get out whenever you like,” he added, trying to seem a little less kidnappy and rapey. “That and there's a hundred year old whiskey collection.”

Izzy had absolutely zero ideas of what other hunters thought of the man he was currently sitting next too. Up until now, he had done a really good job at avoiding them in his travels and work. Sure, to be on the safe side he did do some research on hunters who seemed to be the biggest threats but until now he hadn't actually met any of them. So, right now he couldn't figure out if it was just bad fucking luck that Dean Winchester happened to walk in on his ambush, or some weird good luck to get him out of it unharmed. Even after over fifty years as a demon, almost sixty now maybe? He honestly had never actually hurt a human. So did he deserve this kind of bad luck? On the other hand though, can demons actually have good luck? It was really confusing.

Fact was, Izzy only knew of Dean Winchester from the mouths of other demons. His research on hunters in general was by word of mouth in hell. It wasn't like there were any books he could read on them. So he knew the man was obviously a good hunter, and not just when it came to demons. He knew the idiot sold his soul to save that dumbass brother of his that was hanging around one of the main demons on his own hit list. It was just really hard to get to the bitch when she was being protected by the hunter drinking demon blood. He only knew that from actually running across her once, he could fucking smell the demon blood radiating from the human she was with and it didn't take long to figure out who that human was and what fucking Ruby was doing with him. Little Sammy Winchester. Lovely. He also knew the man next to him spent what was like forty years in hell, being tortured for most of them by fucking Alastair. It had come as a surprise when he heard that there was some sort of angel watching out for him. Well, the angel part wasn't really known when he figured it out. It was just known that the man was pulled out of hell and Izrael knew that an Angel was the only way the man could have escaped hell and returned to his body the way he had. And really, he would prefer to avoid angels. Most demons weren't really that much of a threat to him. They could likely hurt him but Izzy was not easy to actually kill. Not that they had quite figured that out yet. But he had no idea what an angel might be able to do to him.

Izrael couldn't remember his own torture. He actually had no idea it even happened. Ever since the day Asmodues found his newly turned demon in that cage he kept his pet in, the youngest prince acted as though that was the first day of Izzy's life. He didn't even know that he was in that cage because of that man in the first place. "I'm not afraid of you, Dean, even though I'm pretty damn sure you're no puppy dog," Izzy told him with a little roll of his eyes, the man who had spent his last few years in hell torturing other souls was far from a puppy. But he had caught Izzy's attention mentioning the Men of Letters. He vaguely remembered Asmodues mentioning them decades ago. Something about them being all dead now… about them holding knowledge no one else had. Going to this bunker… could prove useful if the knowledge thing was true.

Izzy finally looked over at Dean again, tucking hair behind his ears, "Well whiskey is always a very good and tempting offer," he said, chewing on his lip a little as he thought it over. "If you're all armed like you say you are… Do you also have books and shit? Like, books on demons and shit." Izzy knew he had been turned differently than almost every other demon that existed, he had to have been to have his own body and no ability whatsoever to jump from one meatsuit to the next, but he had no idea what happened to make him this way. And no book he had found since being set loose on the world had been able to give him the answer he was looking for. If this bunker had hidden knowledge it might be his best bet to find out how he turned, because Asmodues wasn't telling him anytime soon. "And I really wouldn't have to just stay if I don't want to. I can just walk out? Seriously?"

Dean just grinned when the other said he was pretty sure he wasn’t a puppy, calling him out like that. And he believed them when they said that they weren’t scared of him, he did find her in the middle of a demon infested alleyway in the middle of the night. His grin grew when Izzy seemed to be mulling the thought over. He raised an eyebrow and chanced a longer glance at the other when he was asked about books. That he hadn’t been expecting, didn’t peg her for a book type. There might be something they were looking for specifically that the old bats had locked away. He would definitely be doing an inventory check but hey it sounded like they were coming around to the idea. A new face and alone time might do him some good, even if they don't get handsy and this Izzy turned out to be a gigantic book worm.

��Like I said you need a magic key to get in but getting out isn’t a problem, locks behind you but I gotta warn you the cell service sucks,” he said with a smile. He altered his route and started out of town and toward the bunker. The long ride was pretty much silent after that, Dean was honestly a bit too nervous to say something and have the blond change her mind about coming. He couldn't help wanting to help her, wanting to figure her out at least a little. From wanting to protect the little thing and knowing that he would just worry about them at this point. “Just don’t take anything, alright? Not really supposed to take people to the BatCave but…” he trailed off with a shrug after he parked by the bunker, obviously making an exception for the blond right now.

Izzy shrugged when he mentioned cell service, that meant pretty much nothing to him. Of course he knew what a cell phone was, he had been in this world long enough. But he never felt the need to get one. Who the hell was he gonna call? "No big deal, no cell phone. I was serious, I've never worked with someone else before. Never felt the need to get one," he shrugged, as little like it was normal or something to not have a cell this day and age. He honestly didn't actually know either way though. "And I don't plan on taking anything. I've got my own weapons and shit. Just… looking for a little info is all. If you happen to have a book with what I want to know, well, then I won't really need it anymore once I read it." He ignored the Bat Cave comment for the moment, not wanting to let the hunter next to him realize he actually understood the reference. He especially didn't want him to know he found it amusing.

Dean decided to leave Baby in a little hidden knook they made for when they didn’t plan on staying long and putting her in the very nice garage. He just grinned as they walked up to the old green doors after grabbing a bag from the trunk and he pulled it open for the other. Once past the first threshold Dean unlocked the second doors and stepped through, holding it open for the other. “This is the legacy of the Men of Letters, a bit old and dusty but we’re still fixing the place up.” he said as they made their way down the spirling, metal staircase. He walked past the light up map table and tossed his bag on the first long table in the library. “Wanna tour?” he asked as he turned to the other, smiling at them.

He just wanted a fucking book that explained how humans became demons. Without their souls spending hundreds of years tortured in hell. Asmodues had no choice but to tell him that he turned differently than everyone else when he realized he couldn't just jump from meat suit to meat suit like everyone else could. His soul never left his body, something in him changed while he was still a human. But that was all Asmodues would say on the subject. Honestly it was the one thing about the man who called himself Izzy's master that drove him absolutely insane. He didn't care so much about whatever his human life was since he couldn't miss what he didn't remember or had any sort of idea what it might have been like, but he did want to know why he turned into a demon. Was he evil in his previous life? Is that how it worked? He remembered someone once saying that he must have cracked to change the way he did, but cracked from what and how? He just wanted to know how the fuck he came into existence. What made him so different from other demons. Why even Dagon, who knew that Izzy couldn't kill her without that oh so special gun, feared him to some extent. And nothing he had found so far explained any of that shit. Was he a bookworm? Mmm, debatable. Ask any demon who knew him they'd say no,, but Izzy was really good at keeping things about himself pretty damn secret. The less people knew the less they had on you and the safer you were. But the truth was that he did love books, loved to read and learn. And now that he wasn't under Asmodues' thumb at all times and had a mission to carry out, he was able to use research for said mission as an excuse to read. Sure, he was actually doing research but for so much more than anyone actually knew.

Izzy was a bit unsure following Dean into the bunker when they got there. This could be a really, really stupid idea. But on the other hand… he was going to have info on the Winchester's no one else could possibly dream of having and he might get a few other answers out of this as well so he followed along. He looked around as Dean led him through the place, tilting his head and letting a confused little look cross his face as he tilted his head back to see the ceiling, "Uh, sure, if you want. So, do you keep the bats in some special room or something? I kinda just pictured them all over the place."

Her not havung a phone probably should have set off more red fags then it did because even if you were a loner it was useful to have one since pay phones were all but extinct. He tilted his own head when Izzy had mentioned bats, that had been a reaction he might have expected from Cas but really? “It’s not really a batca-... never mind. This is our fortress,” he said, just trying to get past what he felt was a painful moment. He turned on his heel and held up his arms out on either side as he gestured to the books. “This is the library. Nothing says stuffy bookworms like having a library right at the front door right?” He said with a laugh, turning completely to face the other as he walked around one of the tables.

If Izrael actually cared much about completely blending in when he was going by Izzy he probably would have gotten a cell phone. But truth be told, he didn't actually care what humans thought about him and despite Asmodues having insisted he play the part on earth he could probably count on one hand how many times he had ever used the name Izzy before. Since he usually avoided hunters he rarely ever felt the need too. So really… What was the point of carrying around a little electronic box used to call people? The only person who would ever actually want to get ahold of him had his own ways of doing so. But even Asmodues left Izzy to himself for the most part nowadays as long as he kept doing what he was told and continued to work his damnedest to keep Lucifer in his box. Though if he had realized how odd it actually was to not have one, he wouldn't have mentioned it.

Of course it wasn't actually a Bat Cave. It almost annoyed him that the hunter found it so easy to believe that the batman reference really meant nothing to the blond. Sure, part of him was glad too because he didn't want the fact that he enjoyed those comics to be known by anyone, but still… how stupid did this hunter think he really was if he believed that Izzy? He was pretty sure that Batman was popular among humans. It was the Winchester thinking he was dumb that bothered him more than anything though, because that was just not true. Izzy had always been rather smart, even before he turned, he had a near photographic memory. But with all memories of humanity gone, and those memories being from close to sixty years before anyways, all that was left was hell and the supernatural. And he figured that shit out quickly, easily. Humans, not so much. Humanity and what they were like and what they did like were never on his list of things he needed to learn about. Humans weren't his targets. "No offense, but you don't exactly strike me as the bookworm type," he said, moving around the table to go and look at the spines of the books, fingers running lightly over them. Yeah, this would definitely be his best bet at finding answers. Some of these were obviously old as fuck. "The kill first and ask questions later type. Though I suppose since all you hunters go after everything supernatural, you need the lore books, huh?" He personally didn't bother with any other supernatural beings, just the demons on Lucifer and Dagon's side. Which was probably a good thing for them, if this little demon were to ever start working as a real hunter with someone like Dean… they wouldn't stand a chance. As they had proved earlier… the two of them working on the same side had some pretty nasty consequences for those fighting against them.

Dean chuckled when Izzy said he didn’t seem like the book worm type, oh hell no that was Sammy’s department. “Yeah no, that's more my brother's thing,” he said as he walked over to the opposite wall, towards the small table with a few bottles filled clear, brown liquid and a few glasses. “I at least wait long enough to see what I'm fighting so I know how to kill it.” Dean poured them a few glasses and headed to the closest main table to the blond. He leaned against it on his hip and took a sip from his glass while he held out the other to Izzy. The other’s wording did strike him as odd though and he raised an eyebrow a little. The way he said it was just off, but Dean wanted to think Izzy was just into demons, and therefore could know some pretty useful stuff. That or maybe he was really green and thought of himself being different from regular hunters. His gut was telling him something was still off though, but he wasn’t sure what.

Izzy was glad his back was to the hunter when he mentioned his brother so he didn't see the little demon roll his eyes and scowl at the mention of that junkie who was seriously getting in his way with that bitch he was attached to. He was pretending he didn't really know much about them… which wasn't a complete lie, but he had a serious suspicion he knew something about the younger Winchester that Dean didn't. He might know about the demon bitch Sam hung out with but he highly doubted this man knew about the blood and psychic shit that boy was playing with. The psychic shit was honestly the main reason he hadn't gone after Ruby yet, he wasn't like other demons, he had no idea how Sam's little exercising shit would affect him.

“You know, you never mentioned what you were looking into. I’m guessing something demon related,” he mentioned to the other. There wasn’t much small talk on the car ride over.

He didn't say anything for a bit while Dean spoke and walked around the room, more interested in looking through the shelves of books for anything that looked promising. But he never let his guard down really, constantly aware of where Dean was around him or how close he was. He stiffened a bit when he felt Dean closer again and he asked that direct question. Izzy didn't really want to answer anything he was asked, but avoiding taking to him too much might just seem more suspicious. Fuck. He really should have paid more attention to the humans around him the last decade, he was really bad at trying to be one. "Yeah, demon related," Izzy finally said as he turned around and saw Dean holding out the whiskey he had promised. Alcohol didn't really affect him as much as it did humans unless he drank an ungodly amount so he wasn't worried about drinking at least.

He took the glass offered to him and leaned against the bookshelf behind him, shrugging his shoulder a little, "Don't know if you picked up on it during that whole ambush shit, but I kinda hunt demons. Apparently I'm pretty good at it since they don't seem to like me much at all." He took a drink from the whiskey he was given, relishing in the burn that goes down his throat. As a demon, the little blond didn't need to eat. The few times he did were few and far between and it was always for some reason he couldn't figure out, but knew he just wanted whatever the hell it was that he was trying. But he did like to drink. Alcohol that is. He liked the burn.

"Just curious what kind of people become demons and how. Always good for a guy to know everything he can about his enemies and all, yanno?" It wasn't a lie. He had actually been avoiding actually lying to the hunter. Izzy didn't like to lie, it was too hard to remember the fake information he had given to who. So the only thing he had lied about was his name, but that wasn't that big of a lie as Izzy did sound like a nickname for Izrael. Mostly, he was just leaving out details he didn't think Dean needed to know. Like the fact he was a demon and really just wanted to know how he, himself, had turned. How demons like him were made. Because as far as the books he had found about demons elsewhere knew, Cain was the only other person to become a demon this way. And almost nothing was fucking known about that man. As a matter of fact, he was the one demon who no matter how hard he tried Izzy could not fucking find. Not that he had really looked into how to find him. He didn't want to kill Cain like he did with everyone else he hunted down, he wanted answers. But even so, he knew Cain wasn't exactly like him and probably didn't have the answers he wanted. So that had just been another fucking dead end. The little blond didn't do a whole lot of shit that he actually wanted to do or something anyways, ninety percent of his time was spent following Asmodues' orders to hunt down Dagon's followers and make sure Lucifer didn't get out of that cage.

Dean nodded a little when the other confirmed that it was demon related, easy guess. “You don’t pick up that kind of attention without being a major pain in their ass,” he said with a snicker. The man's shoulders stiffened when he took another drink when Izzy said what he was looking into. What kind of people become demons. He forced back a smile and shifted a little as he tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and not let it run off with the flashbacks and nightmares he has. It felt like every time he blinked he was hit with a flash of something he’d seen or had done. He told everyone he didn't’ remember any of it and refused to talk about it and self medicated with liquor like any good hunter.

Well duh, obviously he was a pain in their asses. Two dozen of them had actually gotten together without someone in power telling them what to do to try and take him out. They failed, miserably thanks to the hunter near him right now, but it didn't negate the fact that Izzy was a huge threat to them and their plans. Really though, if the whole fucking lot of them just fucking stopped trying to set Lucifer free Izzy would have no problem leaving them alone. But until that happened…. He had a job to do. What the hell would he do with himself if Asmodeus actually managed to take the crown and this mission was over? He'd actually never thought about that before. Every single memory he had had something to do with him having to keep Lucifer in the cage.

“Well demons are mostly twisted and tortured souls. You get twisted up so much down there you turn into something else,” he said, rubbing at his brow as he fidgeted a little as he spoke. “At the end of the day they're a spirit, just nastier. You don’t normally catch one running around before they possess someone but the same tricks apply, salt and iron,” he told him, running off a few things off the top of his head, mostly from first hand experience. “I’m sure you know all about devils traps and all that,” he said, waving his hand and finally looking over at the other. It was probably a good thing Dean had been so caught up with that Izzy was looking into that he completely missed the suspicious pronoun.

Izzy couldn't help but roll his eyes at Dean when the man just told him shit he already knew. Was he actually under the impression that someone he thought was a legit demon hunter didn't know that shit already? Also. He was wrong. While holy water did have the same effect on him that it did to most demons, salt and iron actually didn't bother him for some reason. Every single voice in his head was screaming at him to keep his mouth shut for a while, to not get sucked into this conversation. But the thing was… he actually wanted to talk about this shit. He never talked with anyone about shit he actually wanted too. Demons avoided him unless they were trying to kill him, he avoided humans and hunters, and Asmodues pretty much just told him what to do. The little demon didn't actually have any memories of just talking with someone about something he was interested in. And this happened to be the biggest fucking intrest he really had right now.

"See, right there just proves you really have no fucking clue what you're actually dealing with, do you? Obviously being tortured in hell is going to fuck up any soul in some way, but not every soul in hell becomes a demon. This world would be fucked if they did. There are millions and millions of souls in hell." He only just stopped himself from pointing out that despite Dean's own torture and escapades with Alastair he didn't actually turn into a demon. No, a fucking angel actually came and pulled him from the pit. So what the hell was it that made some souls twist the same way he had even though he hadn't gone through that die and be tortured shit and made others just… well, be tortured for all eternity. Or torture as was the case with some. "Yeah, most of them are just nastier twisted spirits, and you don't normally see one walking around without someone else's meat suit… but they can. It's apparently super fucking rare for it to happen, but a human can just wake up a demon somehow. In their own skin and everything. So I want to know what makes the souls that twist that way different from those that don't. What kind of person they must have been. And what happens to those people who turn? How does that happen? But unfortunately, because it's so fucking rare, I haven't been able to find a single book in the last ten years that actually explains that shit." He sighed a little in frustration at the thought before just shaking his head and finishing the rest of his own drink before he turned his back to Dean again to start looking through the books again, waving his own hand in dismissal of the subject. Dean wasn't going to have the answers he wanted obviously. "But yes, of course I know all about devils traps. I just don't use them." He couldn't if he wanted too, not unless he wanted to get stuck inside one himself. Besides, even if he could… with the way he hunted, it would be pretty damn useless and time consuming to try since it was usually a sneak attack/ambush of his own on their own grounds. Wasting time with a devils trap when it was just so much easier to kill them just seemed stupid. "Do you have any sort of order with these books or am I gonna have to look through all of them to find the ones about demons?"

Dean was a little taken back when Izzy said that he had no clue about demons. He felt anger rise up in his belly and his face tightened some. His pride didn’t like that but the built up emotion subsided the more Izzy spoke. He did have a point, if that’s all it took then Hell would be nothing but demons. He never really focused on the fine details, he just killed them. His face became a mix of surprises and doubt when Izzy kept going and told him about the type of demons that keep their bodies. What the hell? He’d never heard of something like that before, what the hell could it be capable of? It was a worrying thought. “This keeps getting better and better,” Dean muttered under his breath. He couldn't stop his brain from thinking about his younger brother on his road trip with his little demon buddy. What if that was Ruby's plan, twist his brother into one of them? He’d fucking gank that bitch before she could try. He wanted to call and check up but that hadn’t gone so well last time.

He made a small face when Izzy asked about an order to the crazy amount of information. He finished his half glass of whiskey and pushed off of the table, setting the glass down before walking away. “I have a feeling what we’re looking for isn’t in here, come on,” He said, motioning the other to follow him with a head nod. He led the blond down the hall a bit, through another doorway and down some stairs. He pushed one of the two heavy doors open and held it open for the other hunter. “When we started going through the stuff that was left here we found that most of the heavy reading books are in here,” He told him. The room was about 25 by 25 feet, metal shelving lined all the walls filled with books and some jars. There was a decent sized table in the middle of the room under the only light, taking up a good chunk of the free space.

Dean just nearly kidnapped the little blond he helped out that he knew nothing about other than the fact he could kill demons pretty damn well and brought him to his secret bunker and he thought anything that came out of this idea wouldn't be completely fucked? Hell. He was pretty damn sure that Dean didn't even realize yet that he hadn't stepped in to help a pretty little girl, but actually a boy who just happened to look a lot like one. Add on to that fact that this boy was also one of those freaky ass demons he was just talking about and you could see clearly that this man definitely hadn't thought this through. "You have no idea," Izzy mumbled back, not sure or honestly even caring if Dean heard him.

Izzy set down the glass still in his hand before he shrugged again and followed Dean through the bunker. Fuck. This place really was huge. Izzy couldn't help but grin a little when he looked into the room. Dark. Enclosed. No way for anyone to try and sneak up on him again. Exactly the kind of rooms he liked and usually worked in when he was looking for a party to crash. "Awesome," he said as he walked in the room. Creepy jars and big old books lining the walls on top of everything else, Izzy had instantly and probably noticeably relaxed more when he was in the room that was so much like a place he would actually want to be in. He didn't say anything else as he started scanning the books on one of the shelves, his eyes widening some when he saw what he instantly felt like he had been looking for for years now. It was smaller than any of the other books in here, but that wasn't surprising considering how little information there probably was at all on demons like him. Humans Turning Demon.

Izzy grabbed the book off the shelf and took a few steps backwards to push himself up to sit on the table, just remembering that Dean was there as he went to open the book. "Uhm… thanks," he said, forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be a human and actually used to having someone around and even weirder for him- that someone helping him. "Hey… uh, why are you being so like… nice and normal to me? As far as I've seen, people aren't just nice to strangers. Especially when said stranger is a pretty boy who can shove a knife into a human skull."

Dean noticed the small change in the others' demeanor when he showed them the room. The room didn’t bother him or his brother too much but ‘awesome’ wasn’t the normal reaction to this stuff. Though in this line of work, who’s really normal? You see a lot of weird and horrible shit fast and you pick up a few quirks along the way. He had half turned when the other called out to him and thanked him, he was going to leave Izzy alone to do their digging. He raised an eyebrow when he was asked why he was being so helpful. He opened his mouth with a grin to say it was just the right thing to do for a lady when Izzy said that last part, his words luckily getting caught up in his throat. BOY!? WHOLY FUCK!! Dean’s back straightened as he looked the other over again. It took him a second or two to catch himself and he cleared his throat out a little. “Well you want demons dead and I want demons dead,” he said with a shrug, his brain still trying to absorb this enlightening new detail about the blond. “And I learned about a new fleshy kind of demon, win win,” Dean chuckled. Hell all of Dean seemed stiff. Right now, he honestly didn’t know what the fuck to do.

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soveryanon · 5 years ago

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Four months late and with a coffee, ~*MAG160’s review*~ (and the last season 4 proof that I can’t do anything without a deadline.)

- This time, the tiny detail making me love the show even more was: the location (“If nothing else, I’m hoping there’d be some… jurisdiction complications in Scotland, or something?”). We know from MAG050 that Jonah Magnus used to be based in Edinburgh, or was at least operating from there in the 1840s (“Certain uncharitable quarters would have it that your life consists of little but rattling around an Edinburgh townhouse, surrounded by piles of ghostly accounts and lunatic documentation.”); Gertrude had created and hidden the ritual tying her to Agnes in “the middle of a forest, in the Scottish highlands. Furthest place I could find, from anything, and anyone.” (MAG145); the first episode of the series had happened in Old Fishmarket Close in Edinburgh (MAG001). How fitting, then, that the end of the world would be unleashed in Scotland, close to Jonah’s roots, close to the ritual that had been one of Gertrude’s first actions against the Fears, close to the place where the Anglerfish had been taking victims in the first statement Jon ever recorded?

(+ Obligatory “Hm! An Englishman returning from Scotland with a fear of bagpipes and sheep. I’m sure we can all relate…!” (MAG125) snickering reminder. Cross your fingers that the sheep do not get Flesh’d around you, Jon.)

- Obligatory “Oh, Martin, No” because Jon is rubbing off on him (ha) when it comes to saying things that end up biting him in the butt way later:

(MAG079) TIM: Alright, fine. Fine. What do you want? What’s your light at the end of these spooky damn tunnels – and don’t say “everyone happy forever”, because that’s not happening. … Well? MARTIN: I don’t know. I don’t know!! I want to find out what’s going on; I want to save Jon; I want everyone to be fine, and you know what? If we were all happy that wouldn’t actually be the end of the world!

It was a succession of “Everything Is Fine(-ish)”, Martin was happy for at least one week…

(MAG160) MARTIN: Everything alright? ARCHIVIST: Just… making sure it works…! […] MARTIN: Are we… … Are we safe here? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Safe as anywhere else. […] But I think we’re okay. […] MARTIN: You’ll be okay here? ARCHIVIST: I’ll be fine. […] MARTIN: I assume it’s her attempt at a… a–a “varied diet”? Eating your greens, you know? ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] Probably! I’m sure it will work fine.

… so, of course, the world just had to end.

- Fluff first: it took me a long, embarrassing while to understand what was happening in the first scene! I can’t guarantee it but it actually sounds to me like Martin was unloading a load of wood, and had been taking care of it (finding it, moving it, maybe even chopping it outside?!), hence why he perfunctorily asked what Jon had been doing inside (and made clear that he hadn’t gone to the village yet, since he was heading to it at the end of the sequence)?

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [LOAD OF WOOD BEING SET DOWN] MARTIN: Everything alright? […] [BITS OF WOOD BEING PILED UP, ONE BY ONE] MARTIN: You’re unpacked, then? ARCHIVIST: Mm? Oh, yes. [INHALE] Much as I can without any wardrobes to speak of, at least. MARTIN: Yeah, it’s… it’s not exactly the Ritz! […] ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] … Not much in the way of food, is there? MARTIN: Hm? ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] MARTIN: Oh! N–no, not yet. I was actually gonna head down into the village to go pick something up. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Maybe give Basira a call to check in, ‘cause: Daisy apparently couldn’t pick a safehouse with a signal, so…! […] [ZIPPER PULLED] You’ll be okay here?

I’m not saying that, given how Jon was a bit distracted at the beginning of the episode and minimising how much time he had needed to unpack, and how there was glass shattering towards of the episode so most likely a window breaking, there is every likelihood that Jon had just been spending a lot of time eyeing Martin chopping wood through that window at the beginning of the episode, but. You know.

- Overall, I love how the cosiness and domesticity was so quickly installed amongst Other Serious Stuff, mysteries and the bigger plot: we’re being told/shown that Jon is taking precautions, wants to not use his powers, that Martin is the one heading out to go to the village (and the one leaving again in the second scene – Jon might be avoiding coming into contact with outsiders at all, in case they have “stories” or to avoid Knowing about them?), that Jon was planning to go back to only reading(/listening to) statements, after having taken Peter’s the episode before. So, still trying to not hurt more people, and also planning to rely on the tape recorder like he had done in MAG141-143 (if it clicks on on its own, then something is close), which is why and how we heard the first exchange:

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [LOAD OF WOOD BEING SET DOWN] MARTIN: Everything alright? ARCHIVIST: Just… making sure it works…! [SHUFFLING SOUNDS] MARTIN: I still don’t think we should have brought it. ARCHIVIST: Oh, it’s better than no warning at all. MARTIN: Mm. ARCHIVIST: Especially if I’m trying not to, uh… “see” things, you know? MARTIN: I guess. […] I was actually gonna head down into the village to go pick something up. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Maybe give Basira a call to check in, ‘cause: Daisy apparently couldn’t pick a safehouse with a signal, so…! […] You’ll be okay here? ARCHIVIST: I’ll be fine. […] ARCHIVIST: How was she? MARTIN: Oh, same as last week. ARCHIVIST: Institute still crawling with police? […] MARTIN: Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground? Oh, ah! Actually, that reminds me. Hum… [RUSTLING OF PAPERS] ARCHIVIST: Ah! These, these are the… statements. MARTIN: Uh, yes. Basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the Archives weren’t a crime scene. ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: And she wasn’t sure which ones you’d read already, so she–she just said she’d send a bunch. [CLATTERING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: There’s… tapes in here, as well. D… did she say anything about tapes? MARTIN: She… didn’t mention it? But… I–I didn’t check it until after the call. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: I assume it’s her attempt at a… a–a “varied diet”? Eating your greens, you know?

… Implicitly, that first exchange probably wouldn’t have been recorded if Jon hadn’t been checking that the tape recorder was working, which makes us go back to the usual questions of “what are they?”, “why are they only recording some scenes and not others?”, particularly in regards to the tapes that Martin brought back in the second scene.

I also appreciate how their exchanges were still grounded in… material concerns. How everything was installed for the listener to not think for a second that the apocalypse was coming close, given Martin and Jon’s preoccupations? They were still focusing on preventing Jon from harming other people, on food, on the identified people&monsters threatening them (Julia&Trevor, the Not!Them, potentially Daisy, Elias being on the loose again) and on legal matters regarding their involvement in MAG158’s attack (“If nothing else, I’m hoping there’d be some… jurisdiction complications in Scotland, or something?” / “… Does she know who they’re looking to blame?” “They’re not really talking to her about it? Sectioned or not, I guess ex-police only gets you so far.”). I think that this last point was the most impacting for me: food and other characters/threats will still be a concern during the apocalypse… but “legal jurisdictions”, Section 31 and the investigation in the Institute’s attack probably won’t be, and that would be the sign that “society as they know it” is crumbling? That the rules have profoundly changed?

- On that note, YEAH, “TERROR ATTACK” was indeed the way to put it:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Besides, I’m more worried about the other Hunters. Or the… “Sasha”-thing. Last I heard, they still hadn’t found any bodies. [INHALE] A lot of destruction, a lot of blood… [EXHALE] But that’s it. [MORE WOOD SOUNDS] MARTIN: … You think they’re still out there. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: Hopefully a long way out there. […] Institute still crawling with police? MARTIN: I mean, they’ve finished all the interviews? Apparently, they’re calling it a “terror attack”. ARCHIVIST: Doesn’t surprise me. [CHUCKLE] Appropriate, in a way…! MARTIN: Mm. [FOOTSTEPS] ARCHIVIST: … Does she know who they’re looking to blame? MARTIN: They’re not really talking to her about it? Sectioned or not, I guess ex-police only gets you so far. ARCHIVIST: Mm. [SIGH] Does she know if they’ve found the old prison yet? The… Panopticon, Elia– … Magnus’s body. MARTIN: I don’t know how hard they’re looking, to be honest? Basira says a few of them got lost in the tunnels for over a day, and… ARCHIVIST: [CHUCKLE] MARTIN: … it’s not like the promise of an old man’s corpse is much of a motivator. ARCHIVIST: Mm. MARTIN: Still, she did manage to talk them out of burning the whole place to the ground?

* Was this implying that there weren’t any deaths amongst the regular staff? I know that it’s a bit of a moot point given the whole apocalypse-thingy, now, but still, glad for it because… I… really… don’t like… bystanders getting hurt as peripheral casualty when protagonists were the target… in fiction… (Though the staff have been hurt even if they survived, and now everyone is hurting given the circumstances, but, still. I really, really don’t like random deaths when their main point is to give angst to main characters.)

* Trevor&Julia and the Not!Them still on the loose. Given how the Not!Them operates, it’s possible that one of the Hunters hasn’t actually made it, and that we will meet Not!Trevor or Not!Julia in season 5? I’m guessing that they will come back in some shape or form (or Not) next season.

* I love how Section 31 was SO DONE with the Institute – Basira had established that the whole building meant an automatic Section 41 (MAG043) and we saw how Elias was handling police matters with blackmail and the likes (MAG082, MAG092, MAG120, MAG158). I’m surprised that Basira apparently explained Magnus’s deal, since they were searching for the body and the Panopticon? I thought they would avoid explaining it, since Section 31 would be the most likely to go for the kill if they ever found his body? And although Elias wasn’t sure about the consequences, he had still highlighted that killing him would still cause a risk for regular staff and Basira.

* I also love how the default way of destroying the Institute is always “set it on fire”:

(MAG060) ARCHIVIST: [Rosa Meyer] unloaded the van’s normal cargo of filing paper and envelopes, before filling it with several barrels of petrol. She was apprehended just south of Vauxhall Bridge, after she jumped a red light and collided with another car. Luckily the petrol did not ignite, and she was picked up by police as she tried to flee the scene. […] The one detail that still nags at me is that the company the Danilo Kostitch worked for, Paper Unlimited, is the same company that, at the time, supplied most of the stationery to the Magnus Institute. I have a nasty feeling about exactly where she was taking that petrol.

(MAG079) ELIAS: What did you want from him? LEITNER: The files. The ones you took from Gertrude. ELIAS: Planning a little light arson, are we Jurgen? LEITNER: It’s not just the Institute and you know it.

(MAG118) MARTIN: Case… 0071304. Statement of… Ivo Lensik. [BREATHES] [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] All right. [BURNING SOUNDS] [EXHALES DEEPLY] Statement ends, I guess. [PAPER RUSTLING] Hm… Harold Silvana! Number 0020406. Will probably do. [PAPER RUSTLING] [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] Alright then. 0140207, Dylan Anderson. [PAPER RUSTLING] Yeah? Okay~ [LIGHTER FLICKED ON] [EXHALES] There’s plenty more on the pile~ [AGGRESSIVE KNOCKING AND DOORKNOB JOSTLING] ELIAS: [MUFFLED AND DISTANT] Martin! Martin, open the door. MARTIN: Sorry Elias…! I can’t hear you. There’s a door in the way. […] ELIAS: Tell me what you’re doing, and why. MARTIN: I just thought I’d, y’know, drop a couple of ideas in the old suggestion box! Turns out my suggestion is… fire! [LIGHTER ON] ELIAS: And yet you haven’t set the whole Archives alight. So I assume this is… what’s it called… A cry for attention.

(MAG158) ELIAS: What exactly were you hoping to achieve here? Why not come at me directly instead of burning everything first? GERTRUDE: I was rather hoping the fire would occupy you while I did just that. ELIAS: I see…! […] So you burn the place down, use it as cover to reach my body, and then we die together. [CHUCKLE] How… poetic. Doesn’t seem like your style at all. GERTRUDE: I wasn’t actually planning on dying.

(Re: MAG060, I’d already been wondering, before the Jonah Magnus reveal, whether James Wright had somehow been involved in Rosa Meyer’s accident (thus preventing her from reaching the Institute) and/or had sent evidence to the police to incriminate her for the murder, ensuring she wouldn’t get another chance. I… guess that’s what really happened, uh ;;)

… A bit yIPS for the fact that Elias used to get harsh very fast as soon as the Archives were threatened with fire… and in MAG160, it’s now Basira who dissuaded police to burn the place down.

- On my first listen, I got a Big Worry over Basira because:

* “James Wright” had been Head of the Institute from 1973 to 1996, so during 23 years; “Elias Bouchard” had been the new one since 1996, so it’s been… 22 years, almost the same length. If Jonah is body-hopping regularly, we would be close to his next one.

* The weird Elias-Basira bits all through season 4.

* The fact that we haven’t heard Basira since MAG158, when Daisy told her to “go”: we… don’t really know what happened to her afterwards, we didn’t hear how she had interacted with Jon&Martin.

* The fact that Basira hadn’t mentioned the tapes and that Jonah’s statement was amongst the ones she sent to Jon:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Ah! These, these are the… statements. MARTIN: Uh, yes. Basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the Archives weren’t a crime scene. ARCHIVIST: Yes… MARTIN: And she wasn’t sure which ones you’d read already, so she–she just said she’d send a bunch. [CLATTERING SOUNDS] ARCHIVIST: There’s… tapes in here, as well. D… did she say anything about tapes? MARTIN: She… didn’t mention it? But… I–I didn’t check it until after the call.

… So: I panicked a bit about the idea that Jonah could have hopped into Basira before Jon and Martin left The Lonely, or when they had left for Scotland already?

BUT, on the other hand, it wouldn’t really fit thematically: she is still a character, I feel, we don’t “know” a lot; she spent the entirety of season 4 getting manipulated by Elias and ultimately losing Daisy again; she has a new arc opened (her promise to Daisy that she would find and kill her, in MAG158). It would be a bit too harsh to do Basira dirty like this right now, so I doubt that it’s something that happened (losing both Daisy&Basira like this, while Jon&Martin&Elias are still relevant, would be a bit too obviously imbalanced genders-wise too). But. Still. I got a Big Worry.

- Though: given Daisy’s last words in MAG158, I was assuming we were saying goodbye to her as “Daisy”, but now I’m not even sure? Because, yes, TMA characters often sarcastically joke about things that are upsetting and sad, but it didn’t feel like they were talking about someone they had lost forever as a person here?

(MAG160) MARTIN: Yeah, it’s… it’s not exactly the Ritz! ARCHIVIST: Well, it technically still belongs to Daisy, so… I’m just glad it’s not… some sort of… kill room. MARTIN: Or… [CHUCKLE] Or it is, and she just cleaned it up really well! [CHUCKLE] ARCHIVIST: Uh…! Yes… [CLEARS THROAT] [SILENCE] […] MARTIN: Some-somehow, I don’t think Daisy will be worried about “jurisdictions”…! ARCHIVIST: I– [SIGH] I don’t think she’d come here. [RATTLING SOUND] Doesn’t look like this place has been used for years. MARTIN: [POINTEDLY] And if she does? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … Well. At least, we’ll know where she is.

… I mean, yeah, there was Jon’s blatant discomfort, but: this is not how you would talk about someone who had resisted for months against a Fear that had influenced almost all her life, who tried to get Jon out of his misery pit after he had rescued her from the Coffin, who tried to repair a bridge with Martin, who was firm in front of Jon about the fact that obeying to a Fear’s influence wasn’t worth it, to ultimately succumb to The Hunt again after she had stayed in order to give Jon time to run after Martin who was in danger and possibly to protect Basira?

I really really felt that we were absolutely saying goodbye to her in MAG158, but with Jon&Martin’s exchange in this episode, I’m not quite sure anymore – it would be a bit too heartless and disrespectful if it was the case, to summarise Daisy once again as a violent monster, while she had fought it for months? But: Daisy had already lost herself to The Hunt during The Unknowing, and had been rescued from that state once, plus Basira promised to find and kill her (which sounds like a Last Promise, something you can’t go back on); I doubt they could “get her back” another time, even if the whole paradigm has changed?

I really don’t know ;; If we are indeed saying goodbye to Daisy-as-Daisy, I kind of hope that there will be more sensitive words about her in season 5, because it really didn’t feel like she was absolutely gone, given the way Jon and Martin were talking about her – this was a conversation that could have been had about Daisy in season 3, not after season 4 and all the work she did…? I don’t really feel like it was a “meaningful death” on its own either: it didn’t feel to me like it was a sacrifice she was ultimately choosing to make, but The Hunt taking over her anyway because of the violence and the stress around. It works extremely well as a very sad death – Daisy caught back by her patron after some time, because she couldn’t escape it forever (as she had said), and what mattered was that she allowed us to discover the Real Her during season 4 – but I’m still hoping a bit that she could go out a bit more on her terms, if this isn’t her final disappearance as a sentient being able to choose whether or not to cause harm…?)

- So: unsure about Daisy’s current status; worried over Basira (but overall narrative tends to indicate that she hasn’t been taken over); while Martin…

(MAG158) PETER: But you do serve The Lonely. MARTIN: Oh, I’m getting there, but if this is the final test or something? Then bad luck. The answer’s still “no”.

(MAG159) MARTIN: [DISTANT, VOICE ECHOING] This is where I should be. It feels right. ARCHIVIST: Martin, don’t say that. MARTIN: [DISTANT, VOICE ECHOING] Nothing hurts here. It’s just quiet. Even the fear is gentle here.

(MAG160) MARTIN: … Well, as fun as listening to you monologue is… ARCHIVIST: Hm. MARTIN: … I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk. ARCHIVIST: Let me know if you see any good cows…! MARTIN: Now, obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows…! ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF] [FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING]

1°) … Somehow, I find it hard to believe that Martin, of all people, wouldn’t want to listen to Jon monologue. But aouch, the fact that he went for self-isolation so spontaneously gives me the impression that The Lonely might have impacted him quite deeply, and that it might come back to relevance in season 5…

2°) Daisy was barely mentioned in this episode and yet, once again, I’M SO SAD ABOUT DAISY, because it feels like everything was a reminder of her ;_; Who used to stay around when Jon was reading statements?

(MAG133) DAISY: You sure? ARCHIVIST: No, uh, it’s, hum. It’s fine. DAISY: It’s just… Basira’s busy. ARCHIVIST: I–I understand. Ho–honestly, er, I’d actually appreciate your insights, er, for this one, just… You know, keep quiet during the statement and that. DAISY: Sure. I, I can do quiet.

(MAG136) MELANIE: Well… uhm. Daisy’s been, erm… I’ve been keeping her company. Er, while… while Basira’s busy. She’s, er… ARCHIVIST: Oh, no, I, uh… I–I know. MELANIE: W–well, I’ve kind of got to… uhm. I’ve got somewhere to be. Do you mind if, if… she hangs around, with… ARCHIVIST: Er… I suppose… Not at all. She’s very welcome. […] DAISY: I didn’t ask her. To do that. ARCHIVIST: I–it–it’s fine. DAISY: [QUICKLY] You’re not babysitting me, alright?! I know that’s what the others think, sometimes, but… that’s not it. I just… don’t like… being on my own if I can help it. You know. Flashbacks, panic attacks, the usual. Just trying to avoid it if I can. ARCHIVIST: I know, Daisy, I–I do. It’s hard. DAISY: Yeah, well. Don’t let me get in your way.

(… And if she had been there, she would have found a way to stop Jon from reading, even if that meant harming him, uh…?)

- Obligatory “GOOD COWS” point:

(MAG160) MARTIN: Cool. … Well, as fun as listening to you monologue is… ARCHIVIST: Hm. MARTIN: … I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk. ARCHIVIST: Let me know if you see any good cows…! MARTIN: Now, obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows…! ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF]

We know that Martin hadn’t travelled much in his life:

(MAG113) MARTIN: So… how was it? ARCHIVIST: Uh? MARTIN: A–America? And–and China? I’ve, I’ve never really actually… done any, y’know, travelling. MELANIE: It’s not all that. Sometimes you get shot by a ghost. ARCHIVIST: And refuse to give a statement about it. MELANIE: Yup! ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It was… nice, Martin.

So… Eloping to Scotland with Jon might have been his first time seeing actual cows? I love how it already sounded like an inside-joke between Jon&Martin – you feel like there are small stories behind it, that either Martin, Jon or both of them have already cooed about “good cows” in the time they have spent there. Same cute point with:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: Anyway, don’t tell me the phone box down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic…! MARTIN: … It… might. ARCHIVIST: [AMUSED HUFF] MARTIN: Maybe.

It’s adorable that it’s both a nod to Martin’s taste indeed (… and technically Alex’s!):

(MAG039) TIM: Why do you have a second tape recorder, Martin? MARTIN: Oh, um… well, I’ve been using it to record myself. I write poetry and I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm. ARCHIVIST: … I see.

(S1Q&A, 17’20) ALEX: So, when Jonny originally pitched The Magnus Archives to me, there was a period of testing, where we actually ran a few episodes that will never see the light of day…! And what we were doing is seeing what sounded right. And, part of that was to do with the sound of it – so we did versions of The Archives, uh, without the tape deck, just to test? I didn’t like it. I think that it’s got a sort of low-fi charm. JONNY: [CHUCKLE]

And Jon had remembered!

… So, confirmation that Martin likes and is into old things. … There is a definitive pattern there, because Jon absolutely does fit into the “retro” and “low-fi charm” aesthetic himself, and I’m not sure if Jon was aware that it was a self-burn (or if, like in MAG039 and his “only an idiot would stay in this job”, that was the joke).

- And on the other hand: Jon is Living The Archers Life in the countryside. I still want to Believe that the show became a guilty pleasure for him.

… ;_; I’m randomly sad for Daisy, because it feels right that one of her safehouses would be located in a remote area, without signal, a bit distant from the village nearby…? Was she even able to listen to the radio there? Did she listen to Archers episodes alone there?

(Well. “Alone”. Martin&Jon learned about the safehouse somehow, and I can’t tell which idea I preferred more: that Basira tipped them about it (and it was something she had shared with Daisy, and she told them despite that little secret of theirs), or that Daisy had tipped Jon before MAG158, in case something bad were to happen, because the two of them had this weird little friendship-thing going on…)

- I’m still going to use “Elias” for Jonah out of habit, and I like how different characters now in the known also have their own ways of referring to him? Peter used “Elias” out of habit too:

(MAG158) PETER: What are you doing here, Elias? […] Don’t let him distract you. ELIAS: Peter. PETER: Elias.

(MAG159) PETER: But it’s moored now, and I came on land, at Elias’s request. My crew is out there waiting for a call I think I am now unlikely ever to give them. … I will call him “Elias”, for that’s how I’ve known him for most of our… acquaintance, though I originally met him when he was still “James Wright, Head of the Magnus Institute”.

Martin quickly learned to reconfigure his knowledge and use “Jonah”:

(MAG158) MARTIN: Elias– … Jonah had nothing to do with it.

… Meanwhile: Jon is still stuck on “Elias”, though he’s been shown correcting himself:

(MAG158) ARCHIVIST: Uh– yes. And I’d wager that Elias’s body, uh… BASIRA: Gotta be Jonah Magnus, right? ARCHIVIST: I’d say so.

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] Safe as anywhere else. If Elias wanted to find us, I imagine he could, but… I doubt the police will be able to. […] Does she know if they’ve found the old prison yet? The… Panopticon, Elia– … Magnus’s body.

It was a very strange season in the fact that Jon and Elias only interacted directly once, and very quickly (MAG158): in past seasons, we were hearing them regularly (even in season 1, when they directly interacted only twice), and it was implied that they were discussing more often than what the tapes were recording. But in season 4, no additional interaction than MAG158’s is possible given that Elias was in jail and Jon was forbidden from visiting him… though there was a form of communication through different means – Jon read Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter to Jonah because it had “called” to him (and Elias “called” Jon towards the Panopticon; was he the one responsible for that one?), and Jonah’s letter in MAG160.

How long will it take before Jon and Elias come face to face again in season 5? And will Jon still call him “Elias” then, or “Jonah”?

- I had been wondering for so long how Jon was supposed to fit in Beholding’s ritual, as one of its agents! Would Jon keep embracing his powers to the point that pulling in The Eye into the world would seem acceptable for him? (That was my main worry when Oliver gave his statement and told him he had to make a choice: were we supposed to trust Jon when he was telling Basira and the others that his “priorities haven’t changed”, or was she right to be cautious around him? In the end, it was a mix of both given that Jon wasn’t trustworthy (he hid to everyone that he had been taking statements behind their backs) but he still wasn’t keen on bringing the apocalypse, which was cemented later in season 4 when the others made sure that he wouldn’t hurt other people.) Would Elias manage to convince Jon that Beholding was a lesser evil, possibly to “protect” the world against Extinction? (Absolutely not.) Was Elias simply waiting for the right time to blackmail Jon into it doing it, by threatening to hurt Georgie, the assistants or specifically Martin? (No, but my blood ran cold when Jonah mentioned Martin in this statement, since… Martin was outside… alone… and out of reach…, and for a few seconds, I really thought he had been kidnapped and/or hurt and that this would be it.) Given how Elias had a “complicated” relationship to the apocalypse and didn’t seem to be doing much, did he really want Beholding’s ritual, or was he passively sabotaging it…? “The Watcher’s Crown” had been a concern and a frustration from the moment it was first mentioned:

(MAG111) GERRY: She worked out they’d all be happening quite close together. She’d already been doing it a while, and The Unknowing was the next on her list. That and The Watcher’s Crown. ARCHIVIST: The, the what? GERRY: Uh, The Rite of the Watcher’s Crown. It’s what she called the ritual for the Eye. She didn’t tell me much about that one, just that she knew how to take care of it. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH]

(MAG123) BASIRA: Best I can understand it, Beholding, or… The Eye, or whatever you wanna call it, we’re one of the only powers that hasn’t actually taken a shot at our ritual. Yet. And everything out there knows it. ARCHIVIST: … No, I mean, we… we can’t be the only ones, surely? BASIRA: I don’t know. Probably not. But we made a big noise with The Unknowing and… other stuff, and… now they’ve taken notice.

(MAG126) PETER: [LAUGH] Because, behind all his bluster, Elias’s just like all the rest. He’s so preoccupied playing the game, he doesn’t pay attention to the big picture. He managed to convince himself that he could get his ritual off first, which would have made all of this a… bit moot, but that’s not really an option anymore. So it’s down to us. You and me. The dynamic duo.

(MAG135) BASIRA: [DRY SIGH] What was the point? You won’t be getting your ritual off from in here so, what do you need him for?

(MAG137) ARCHIVIST: Ever since I crawled out of that damn coffin, I feel like I’ve been… adrift. Filling in blanks and diving into History, but only…! [EXASPERATED SIGH] The breadcrumbs I’m finding are… stale. Old. … What the hell is The Watcher’s Crown? So far the only mention of it I’ve had is from Gerry, and he didn’t seem to know much about what it actually meant. [PAUSE] And he’s gone now. But if it is the grand ritual of Beholding, then I– … I mean… I need to know about it. Right…? I feel like I’m on a deadline, like I’m running out of time somehow – and I don’t even know where to go! What to look for, o–or… [EXHALE] Just casting around blindly for more clues to just… drop into my lap. Everyone else is… running towards something, or running away, and I… [SIGH] I don’t know what I’m doing.

(MAG138) ELIAS: For all his… many faults, Peter is legitimately trying to stop the end of the world as we know it. MARTIN: So why haven’t you helped him?! ELIAS: My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated. MARTIN: [UTTER DISBELIEF] Oh, seriously? ELIAS: Seriously.

And in the end, I’m so satisfied by what was revealed, since it entirely checked out.

* Indeed: before season 4, it had seemed logical to assume that the Institute had been founded in 1818 and that the Beholding faction had been accumulating power ever since, preparing for The Watcher’s Crown, given how The Dark had apparently waited for 300 years before trying again, and The Stranger 230 years. However, in Smirke’s letter to Jonah (MAG138), we learned that Jonah was finalising a Beholding project, which resulted in Smirke’s death. So that was the time of The Watcher’s Crown attempt!

* Elias “My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated.” Magnus had already tried his ritual once, and knew now that the others’ were all doomed to fail – unless going for his ritual of them all. That was why. F u c k e r.

* Annabelle had already taunted and/or warned Jon about the fact that reading a statement was a weak point, since he had reached a point where it was impossible for him to stop once he had begun:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “… I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading, there’s every likelihood you’ll… just hurt yourself. So just listen. Now – shall we turn the page and try again?” [PAINED SOUND] [PAGE GETTING TURNED] ARCHIVIST: [STRAINED] … Statement of… Jonah Magnus… regarding… Jonathan Sims… the Archivist. … Statement begins. […] “Now. [CHUCKLE] Repeat after me.”

(MAG147, Annabelle Cane) “Of course, that’s not the real crux of the free will question that’s… bothering you at the moment, is it? I think that one probably comes down to whether or not you’re choosing to continue reading this statement out loud. You didn’t mean to, did you? No, I’m sure you told Basira and Melanie that you were going to glance over it and report back. Perhaps they asked you if you were going to record, and you shook your head – “Maybe later”. That sounds like the sort of thing you’d say.

But think about it, Jon: when’s the last time you were able to read a statement quietly to yourself without instinctively hitting record and speaking it aloud? It is just instinct? Habit? Or is it a compulsion – a string pulled by the Ceaseless Watcher or the Mother of Puppets? Or both? I know the summaries have started to confuse you. Where did they come from, when you read a statement fresh? How do you just… sort of know what it’s about, before you even start to read it…? But by then, you’re away: the rollercoaster is dropping and you’ve no real choice but to hold on and hope that… I don’t crash you.”

(What had struck me with Annabelle’s is that, although it was true that Jon had not been interrupted during a statement past season 2, the concept of Jon not being able to glance at a statement without making an official record was fairly recent: he had provided some follow-ups during season 4, having previously done some work using details mentioned in the statements.)

… It might be that Annabelle showed off the trick of Jon being forced to keep reading a statement even though the content was unpleasant precisely to give Elias the idea? Elias knew how to get his completed “Archive”, but I doubt that hijacking Jon through a statement in order to get him to summon the Fears was something he had planned for long, and not something he had devised recently, copying Annabelle.

* + Bonus from Martin, who had absolutely jinxed it / been too On The Nose about it, since he had put out there the idea of an incantation to bring about the end of the world, though crackily:

(MAG144) MARTIN: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] I believe you. PETER: You don’t still think I’m trying to trick you into a grand ritual? MARTIN: I mean, I’m not about to start chanting stuff for you, but… but the details you’ve given me all seem to check out. So far.

The end of the world happened thanks to someone chanting stuff for someone else, in the end!

- Same feeling with how the episode was framed: we did have clues that ~something was coming~, we knew since MAG121 that we were now in 2018 and that it was conveniently the Institute’s anniversary, Jon himself acknowledged this early in the season…

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Hm. “Jonah Magnus”… I’ve never really given much thought to him. Not nearly as much as I should have. I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent, in all this. I know, I know; but I had… [SIGH] I had just… hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest…! And not simply the foundation stone for all the… terrible things that have happened here. … But no. Whatever is happening now… has its origins two hundred years ago. In the work of an evil man. … [INHALE] Exactly two hundred years, in fact. Don’t think that little detail has evaded me. I don’t know the precise date the Institute was founded, but I do know that it was in 1818. [INHALE] Something’s coming. I know it is. But I just… don’t know what I need to do.

But WOW did Everything highlight Elias’s sense of drama.

* 2018 was indeed relevant, but worse, Asshole Boss Man picked October 18th as the Apocalypse Day, making the statement case a palindrome (#0181810). Knowing this posturing fucker, there is every likelihood that this was the anniversary of the exact date the Institute was founded or something.

* He probably bribed Simon or used Ex Altiora’s Spiral thing just to be able to get the storm rumbling ominously in the background on that day.

* Once again, HE USED TO BE BASED IN EDINBURGH (and confirmed in this letter that the building of the Magnus Institute was constructed or moved into only after his failed Watcher’s Crown attempt, so around the time of Smirke’s death in 1867). He struck when Jon&Martin had precisely taken refuge in Scotland, so the country of his roots.

* I’ll go all-out about the content of his letter, but the sense of self-posturing and dramatisation was through the roof, he probably spent most of the prison vacation thinking about it and about how Jon would probably react to craft the most obnoxious letter ever. Fucker.

* The PUNS. He punned SO MUCH. It’s nothing new (“Don’t forget to keep in touch, Martin. There are so many people in here, but without one’s friends… it does get rather lonely.”, just for one), but he was absolutely insufferable in this one:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Admittedly, given the advent of The Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered – but what’s the old saying about hindsight? […] Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. […] How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you?”

(+ “It does tickle me, that in this world of… would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the “Chosen One” is… simply that: someone I chose!” Someone remembered The Tingly, uh.)

* About the Posturing: Elias definitely confirmed to be a Bones Connoisseur, dude, please, you were two centuries late for the Baroque movement.

(MAG092) ELIAS: And it was not out of malice, or because [Jonah Magnus] lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. Bones that you can still find in my office, if you know where to look.

(MAG127, Jonathan Fanshawe) “… Do I need to tell you what I found, Jonah? Do I need to detail what covered his organs? His bones? The inside of his skin? What clustered together in their dozens, and all turned as one to focus on me as I opened his chest? Their pupils constricting in the light, with irises of every hue and colour. Because whatever it was that did this to him, I know in my heart… that it is your fault.”

(MAG131) JARED: 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. […] 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.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Do you know of Alexander Cunningham? He’s been working with the Viceroy of India on the Indus Valley digs, and he’s discovered some quite remarkable things. Burial pits full of burned bones and ash, skulls with markings as though the eyes were removed, and others that seem… buried alive.”

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “[…] though I waited until the worms were in you to pull the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.”

… Assuming that Jon didn’t leave with it, I’m unfortunately picturing Jonah getting his hands on Jon’s rib just to add it to the secret stash in his office.

- I really loved Jonah’s “little trip down memory lane”, because… it was answering interrogations or suspicions (regarding his past actions), still managed to surprise me in small little things that I hadn’t suspected and hadn’t been hinted but worked perfectly (shoving Helen into a car?!), and was still extremely functional (terrorising Jon and readying him for the final incantation, by reactivating all his old fears and pains). The first part of it was almost a “gift”, in a way, since it… answered and “hooked” us/Jon, but wasn’t really necessary when it came to messing Jon up; but it was, after all, a statement, so it’s only logical that it would begin with some gloating and posturing. Gods, the posturing. Anyway, a… lot of things suddenly rearranged themselves, so I’m just going to follow his words for that one without trying to organise it thematically:

(MAG160) ARCHIVIST: [CLEARS THROAT] Statement of Hazel Rutter, regarding a fire in her childhood home. Original statement given August 9th, 1992…! Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins. [PAUSE, PUNCTUATED BY THE CRACKLING OF THE FIRE] “Hello, Jon. [STATIC RISES] Apologies for the deception, but I rather wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. I’m assuming you’re alone – you always did prefer to read your statements in… private. … I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading, there’s every likelihood you’ll… just hurt yourself. So just listen. Now – shall we turn the page and try again?” [PAINED SOUND] [PAGE GETTING TURNED] ARCHIVIST: [STRAINED] … Statement of… Jonah Magnus… regarding… Jonathan Sims… the Archivist. … Statement begins.

* The sneakiness was extraordinary because, given the first words, you were meant to be already trying to guess what this statement would be about – we tend to associate “fire” with Desolation, and the very present and physical crackling of the fire in the background… was adding a very ominous touch to this.

* I must admit that before Jon confirmed that it was Jonah’s statement, I didn’t know whether it was him or Annabelle? There was something very carnivorous and cruel in the tone Jon used, which reminded me of her rather than Elias. (And, overall: I felt “Jonah” a bit more than in Ben-as-Elias’s words! It’s probably because of the huge amount of posturing, and the… slowness? of Jon’s reading, rather than Elias’s usual chirpy bitey comments.)

I have to appreciate, also, how this season began, continued and ended… with people saying hello to Jon and/or calling him “Jon” when he was physically unable to answer.

(Season 4 trailer) MARTIN: Hi Jon. [PAUSE] H–how are you? [LIGHT CHUCKLE] … Yeah. Yeah, same here. It’s… it’s bad all over, you know?

(MAG121) OLIVER: Hum… Hello, Jon. Do you… m–mind if I call you Jon? I… I mean. You don’t actually know me, it’s just… well. “Archivist”, it’s so… formal, isn’t it? And I do kind of know you…? Haven’t had much choice, really.

(MAG147, Annabelle Cane) “‘Free will’ is a funny old thing – isn’t it, Jon? Can I call you Jon? I’m going to call you Jon.”

Elias had been spending a loooot of time watching Jon, indeed.

* The struggle in Jon’s throat noises was heart-breaking, we could hear that he was clearly trying to resist… to no avail, and Elia’s little taunt was just the nail on the coffin…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Why does a man seek to destroy the world? It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality, and power […]; to place yourself beyond pain, and death, and fear. It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all…! I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers, all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction, in that choice. I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die. I believe there are far more people in this world who’d take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.”

* We had learned through Robert Smirke’s letter that Jonah was afraid of dying (MAG138: “I beg you, do not pursue this goal; if only a single lesson may be gleaned from my life of long study, and longer hardship, it is that the fear of Death is natural, and to flee from it will only bring greater misery. Repent of your sins, Jonah. Seek forgiveness. I am certain the Dread Powers cannot take a soul that keeps faith in the Resurrection.”), that absolutely confirms it. Things have changed indeed, and the separations we used to rely on will probably be less relevant, but… still, it’s interesting that this season began with an agent of The End visiting Jon (sent by The Web). Oliver had precisely highlighted that you can’t really escape death (MAG121: “That was it with the old woman too. That was different, though. Way I figure it? She stuck her nose in just about everywhere it wasn’t wanted and stirred up hornets. ‘Till all the precautions in the world couldn’t stop Death from finally catching her.”), I’m curious about whether or not it will be relevant for Jonah too.

* Adding to this: Jon had explained that he had woken up because he was afraid of dying (MAG136: “My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die.”), and it was a lingering theme in this season: is it worth it to not die if it relies on harming others? We’ve had various examples of people accepting this deal in their own ways (Helen who chose to “stop feeling guilty” about it, Tova McHugh who justified to herself that she deserved to live more than others…), and others who actively refused it (Daisy who pointed out that it wasn’t worth it, Melanie who had decided to stop any complacency with Beholding even if it would cause her own death, before she found a way out). The beginning of the episode established that Jon was still trying to not use his powers, and the prologue confirmed it once more: after the harm he caused and kept hidden during the first half of season 4, he’s still following the conscious choice to not hurt others at the present. I had felt that MAG138 was implicitly contrasting Jonah and Jon (agreeing to let his friends get consumed for his own gain / wanting to protect the assistants and refusing to lose anyone else); given how Elias was absolutely deadpan about the fact he had embraced the Fears for his own gain, the contrast is definitely cemented.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott and the rest – to discuss and hypothesise on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner… I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear. But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was still so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of their patrons: I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world. At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be… an inevitable transformation, was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment… soon became a race. Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror? I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked. It – took – years for the dread of the prisoners that passed through to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man by the time I made my first attempt at The Watcher’s Crown, sat in the centre of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet. It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were; and none of the inmates survived, as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was build consumed it. But it left me a gift: for sat in that watchtower, I could see… everything I turned my mind to. It was a dizzying power; and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. [DISTANT RUMBLE OF THUNDER] Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organisation I had founded to assist in my research down to London. And the Institute, as you know it, was born. I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own. Surely, my interpretation of The Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.”

* ! I had felt like season 4 was… really giving the idea that an “old” generation of avatars or people involved with the Powers had been wiped out? The Lightless Flame was almost entirely eradicated by Gertrude, a few recent failed rituals damaged some factions (The Stranger, The Dark, The Flesh), a lot of recurring figures were revealed dead (such as Adelard) or are “officially” dead (Mikaele Salesa…?), Peter was recently eradicated, etc. Simon Fairchild, Jonah and Trevor Herbert (if he has survived) seem to be the oldest; the only ones left seem to be Jared Hopworth (since 1996), Jude Perry (since 1991), Daisy (in whichever state she currently is…), Oliver Banks (“died” and came back after 2015), Annabelle Cane (turned in 2010), Helen-the-Distortion (took over in 2017), Julia Montauk (embraced The Hunt in summer 2010), Jon (Beholding, gradually groomed into avatarhood from late 2015 to early 2018), potentially Martin (Beholding-touched Lonely, late 2017 and 2018). That’s not many, compared to the old guard. But it did fit with both the idea that the apocalypse would be brought around now, and that Jonah had lived it as a “race” against others?

* We don’t know what happened to George Gilbert Scott as an avatar of The Buried in the Magnusverse? He was described in MAG050, but I wonder if he’s still around, given how Elias took great care of finishing off Rayner by sending the police after him. (Technically, we don’t know how Mordechai Lukas ended either… but the Lukases are still prosperous and financing the Institute, so the family and Elias are still in good terms.)

* It’s an implicit correction to Jon’s conclusions that the Institute had never been founded “in earnest” and that Jonah Magnus had always been “an evil man” after reading Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter from 1831 (MAG127): Jonah really taking it to heart to point out that his opinions had changed a bit over the matter of the Fears, uh? Although it was a quick decision: if we’re following our History, Robert Smirke began working on Millbank around 1816. If Jonah was the one who pushed him in that direction for his own plans, it means that he was already planning to bring in Beholding when Albrech had sent him his letter (MAG023) about The Eye’s tomb in the Black Forest. Was it the case, or is the Magnus timeline diverging a bit from our own history (maybe Smirke began working on Millbank later in the Magnusverse), or did Jonah rewrite history a bit there, retrospectively telling himself that he had convinced Smirke to work on Millbank for his own gains? Jonah, at least, let Barnabas Bennett die in 1824, and the way Elias presented it, it had still been a sad choice albeit one made without any hesitation (MAG092: “And it was not out of malice, or because he lacked affection for Barnabas Bennett: he retrieved those bones sadly enough when the time came. […] No, it was because he was curious. Because he had to know, to watch and see it all.”); according to Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter from 1831, he had grown a bit more ruthless towards Albrecht von Closen by then.

* … How old was Jonah when he pushed Smirke to work on Millbank? “I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind” would mean old age… but he was still alive in 1867 (Robert Smirke’s letter). He couldn’t have been more than 40 in 1816, and that’s already stretching a lot! So either Real Life’s and Magnus’s Histories diverge as mentioned above, either he was really a Victorian asshole getting worried over his first wrinkles and white hair, gooooods, Jonah, please…

* It… does explain the “Opperior” in the Institute’s logo, if he wanted for more than half his life that Millbank would be contaminated by the fears…………

* I love how he casually explained that The Watcher’s Crown had already happened, when we were panicking about it, and yet! We should have suspected! Since Smirke’s letter mentioned that Jonah was likely working on a Beholding project:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “It is telling that of those I have brought into my confidence, it is only you and I who have continued this far without falling to one Power or another, despite all my instruction and work. This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank. […] I am not a fool; I know well enough what this dream is likely to mean, and I warn you again that if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work, to try and wear The Watcher’s Crown, you must abandon them! Not simply for the sake of your own soul, but for that of the world! I have always had the utmost respect for you as a man of dignity, and learning. Do not allow yourself to fall to this madness. […] I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man. I further find myself supposing that they may emanate from your own intrigues and preparations to culminate those plans which we agreed to abandon so many decades ago! […] The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon. It is likely too late for me, but I will not…”

Letter interrupted because He Dead. I’m a bit surprised that Jonah didn’t take credit for his death, so it might have been Beholding just growing more powerful at the time and touching Smirke without even Jonah doing anything purposefully?

* And again!!! It made sense re: the current building of the Institute. We knew that the Institute had been founded in 1818, but Sampson Kempthorne’s letter (MAG050) had mentioned that Jonah was “rattling around an Edinburgh townhouse, surrounded by piles of ghostly accounts and lunatic documentation” in 1841. Breekon, while describing an event that had happened around 1853 (his time serving on the Robert Small), had mentioned that it had been “the first time we saw what would become this place, The Eye’s Pedestal” (MAG128), implying that it wasn’t yet The Eye’s pedestal at the time. That’s because Jonah only moved the Institute to London after his failed Watcher’s Crown attempt, past 1867! And all to protect the Panopticon and his actual body inside of it!

* Just the mention in passing that a huge amount of people died during his attempt, but it’s not really surprising from Elias-Jonah. Though, he was a bit more handson than Peter had credited him for, in the end?

* It’s interesting how the failed rituals impacted avatars differently. Peter almost lost himself; Tom Haan certainly did (as pointed out by Gertrude); Rayner was severely diminished; Simon just kept going after each one (only one attempt amongst many, in the big universe?). Jonah… got a power boost out of it. If the Fears work on a Whatever Feels Right basis, is it because he was so self-centred that he couldn’t even imagine not getting personal gain out of it or something?

* It still makes so much sense that his own way to “not die” was to take hosts: he knew Rayner, and that’s what Rayner was doing, so it worked because he had an example of it working for someone else; it had to work this way for himself, too!

* Really interesting too, that… The Eye was not mentioned in the first part of his statement. We know that The Watcher’s Crown was The Eye’s ritual, but it’s really telling that Jonah didn’t explicitly introduce it as his god: in his mind, he was clearly doing it for himself, for his own interests, for his own survival and gain, and not at all out of devotion or fascination or unwilling service to a patron (though there are clear indications that… he was actually much more Beholding than he was aware).

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus. You see, the role of Archivist has been part of The Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers: most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain… throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings. But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about collecting experiences or compiling the fears of others – she was driven to stop those who served the Powers. More than once, I thought she must secretly be of The Hunt, [RUMBLE OF THUNDER] but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times. I once asked her… what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me The Desolation had killed her cat…! I don’t know if she was joking and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.”

* So ;; Kinda leaning into the idea that Johann von Württemberg and the creature under Alexandria were indeed Archivists of their times? (And I’m D: all over again about Jonah confirming that he had researched on Beholding, because of what happened to Albrecht von Closen between 1816 and 1831 because of him and the books…)

* Gotta love how he didn’t mention any other Archivist before SHE happened. Gertrude Robinson was That Special, uh. (Well, he had acknowledged that “I suppose we both got a little complacent. Fifty years is a long time!” in MAG158)

* I love how I can absolutely not tell either whether she was messing with him or if it was the truth. She could very well have dedicated a huge amount of her life to fucking over The Lightless Flame in particular because they had murdered her cat, it would have been entirely understandable.

* I love that JONAH was TOO SCARED of Gertrude Robinson to peer into her mind ever. Also:

(MAG159) PETER: Gertrude was the one that scared me. She seemed to have no interest in meeting me whatsoever, something… I appreciated, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at me, as though she was making a calculation and I was an unwanted integer she was deciding whether to remove.

Lonely Eyes, united in their shared fear of the scary old woman.

* That was one of the first moments I remembered that Jon was listening to this with us – and how upsetting it must have been to be reminded of “the Archivist” being a function, when he had been so afraid to have inherited a “mantle” like Michael and others in season 3…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years. In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded? Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinson throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed? She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with… the People’s Church. When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realised she was putting into practice a theory – and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain, as mine had all those years ago. Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated; but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realised what needed to be done. You see… the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the panic of hunted prey? When does the mask of The Stranger become the deception of The Spiral? Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as “up” relies on “down”. To try and create a world with only The Buried… makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only “down”. Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself… impossible. They could bring their patron close, but could not sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back to the place next to reality where they dwell.”

* I Did Not Share That Opinion because… honestly, the rituals seemed quite easy to derail? The only thing that surprised me is that Gertrude took care of them on her own, only thanks to a few (sometimes unwilling) allies: Adelard, Gerry, Michael and Jan Kilbride. Even with past taxonomies, there might have been dozens of different cults worshipping different things (Jonah did acknowledge that Beholding&Archivist was an old constant); we got a glimpse of old conflicts in MAG053 (Those Who Sing The Night fighting against the site of an Archive) and MAG117 (The Stranger’s last ritual attempt getting interrupted by what Gertrude interpreted as Slaughter avatars). It sounded logical to me that a lot of these rituals had failed in the past because others had opposed it: they weren’t planning their ritual in a vacuum, but with a dozen of cults opposing yours.

* BUT THE EXPLANATION WAS A “OH SHIT” MOMENT BECAUSE!!! It… made sense, and we had glimpses and hints and we should have guessed that it was the case!!

(MAG080) ARCHIVIST: So the creatures are, what, priests? These books their holy texts? LEITNER: I told you it was an unhelpful analogy. Let’s try another one. Um… Imagine, you are an ant, and you have never before seen a human. Then one day, into your colony, a huge fingernail is thrust, scraping and digging. You flee to another entrance, only to be confronted by a staring eye gazing at you. You climb to the top, trying to find escape and, above you, can see the vast dark shadow of a boot falling upon you. Would that ant be able to construct these things into the form of a single human being? Or would it believe itself to be under attack by three different, equally terrible, but very distinct assailants? ARCHIVIST: So the books, the monsters, they’re part of these beings? Just extensions of them? Fingers being pushed into our world?

(MAG111) GERRY: And when our fears change, so do these things. But it’s not quick. Gertrude reckons they’ve basically been the same since the Industrial Revolution. She and my mum both liked to follow Smirke’s list of fourteen. ARCHIVIST: [DISBELIEVINGLY] Th– I mean, there are a lot more than fourteen things to be afraid of in the world. Where do you draw the line? GERRY: Hmmm. I always think it helps to imagine them like colours. The edges bleed together, and you can talk about little differences: “oh, that’s indigo, that’s more lilac”, but they’re both purple. I mean, I guess there are technically infinite colours, but you group them together into a few big ones. A lot of it’s kind of arbitrary. […] And like colours, some of these powers, they feed into or balance each other. Some really clash, and you just can’t put them together. I mean, you could see them all as just one thing, I guess, but it would be pretty much meaningless, y’know, like… like trying to describe a… shirt by talking about the concept of colour. O–Of course, with these things it’s not a simple spectrum, y’know, it’s more like– ARCHIVIST: An infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once. GERRY: Now you’re getting it. ARCHIVIST: Like colours, but if colours hated me.

(MAG137, Wallis Turner) “The crew, hungry for death in their stolen uniforms, at first cried out in joy with each new murder; then, they cried out with expectation; and at last, with what sounded like concern, casting their eyes up into the empty sky as though waiting for something. As fewer and fewer of us remained, I could feel something like panic begin to spread through them. […] The crew… did not… stop me. They simply watched me with expressions of despair, and the deepest disappointment I’ve ever seen.” […] GERTRUDE: Still the anti-climax is fascinating: I can only assume they were supposed to be… bombed at the height of the ritual. Maybe by Japanese aircraft, maybe Allied, maybe… both. I wondered what stopped it: a Japanese radar filled with… spiderwebs; a US destroyer, finding itself suddenly alone in the open ocean? [HUFF] We’ll probably never know.

(MAG143) MANUELA: I… don’t know exactly when it all started to come undone. I think Maxwell first felt the ripples four days before the eclipse was due. [SIGH] It was strange… Like a pause in the hysterical whimpering and fruitless prayers of the sacrifices. And a ripple that was felt through the waters, and the stagnant blood that bound us. A disruption. We would later learn that this was the collapse of the ritual at Hither Green – but it was only the first. […] And as we unveiled our new and absent sun, the sacrifices who remained screamed, and fell in holy agonies, and the world of endless night we had been promised began to pour in, shining out and all around us. It touched and caressed our souls with the soothing fears of night, and I heard Maxwell weeping with joy at what we had done. And then… it stopped. It just… stopped. All at once, that loving embrace was stripped from us, and it began to retreat, to recede back into the place that it had come from. We were so close…! … We were so close…

(MAG151) SIMON: Do you know when the last ritual I attempted was? MARTIN: I… I don’t know, that space station? SIMON: Oh goodness no, that’s the future my boy! But no; it was 1853! The height of the aquarium mania! All over the Empire, people were starting to understand the depths of the terrible unknown below the ocean. And I thought that was a rich vein to be tapped. Even bothered old Halley into helping me design a special diving bell for the ritual. I called it “The Awful Deep” – and between you and me, I was rather proud of myself. MARTIN: … So why didn’t it work? SIMON: Because it… wasn’t a very good idea…? The Fear wasn’t out there, not like I hoped it was. It all sort of… fizzled. Also, a Hunter broke in and destroyed the mechanism, sent me and all my sacrifices plummeting to the bottom of the ocean.

Gertrude had recorded MAG137’s statement in October 2014: a few months before The Dark’s attempt… so it’s probably thanks to this one that she suspected that The Dark would fail on its own…

* And we did, thematically, have many clues during season 4! MAG122 was a very polarising episode when it came to which Fear(s) it was about; MAG126-MAG136 made us wonder if it was the same Spiral avatar “Gabriel” who had been collaborating with Web(?) Neil Lagorio; we (and Gertrude and Martin) felt like Extinction-statements were reminiscent of other Fears; Robert Smirke’s letter in MAG138 had him refuse to admit that his taxonomy wasn’t perfect and didn’t really work; MAG145 had Arthur Nolan complaining about Diego Molina calling their god “Asag” when that aspect encompassed Corruption traits; Jon admitted after reading MAG153’s statement that it was “The Corruption at work, if I had to guess, though with unsettling echoes of a… ‘Fleshliness’”… We had so many moments in which the divisions weren’t really clear, and implicit reminders that Robert Smirke’s taxonomy was one amongst others and certainly far from perfect…

* I wonder if Gertrude felt something, upon learning that… she had sacrificed Jan and Michael (and probably many others) for nothing, and that she could have “just” derailed punctual actions without making many victims… (Though: the bombing in Alexandria was implied to be her doing, and the old Archive wasn’t a current threat. It’s possible that she did that in case Elias-Jonah was planning to use it for Beholding, or to just to try to diminish Beholding… but still, she caused collateral victims quite casually.)

* How ironic, that Gertrude and Elias both understood what was happening thanks to The Dark failing, when Beholding was presented as an opposite power… (And even more ironic for Jonah&Rayner, since it’s through Rayner that Smirke (and therefore Jonah) learned so much about the Powers, and that Rayner was probably Jonah’s direct inspiration when it came to snatching bodies to extend his life…)

* Gertrude took A BIG RISK with the idea that The Dark’s ritual would fail on its own, and I’m really curious about Jonah’s comment that “Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated; but she had not.” => did she really have a backup plan? A way to undo The Dark peering through? I… don’t think that the whole apocalypse at the end of MAG160 can be undone, but that small comment could leave a bit of hope in that regard…? (Unless Gertrude thought she could undo such things, and it’s revealed to not work in season 5.)

* I’m “glad” (ha) that Tim… really didn’t care about stopping The Unknowing in itself, and that his goal was clear:

(MAG117) TIM: … I’m gonna hurt them, though. I’m gonna hurt the things that stole my brother and wrecked my life. I’m the distraction! If it looks like any of the… “circus folk mannequins”, whatever, are gonna see the others, I’m to make the biggest mess I can, draw them away, keep them busy. [SCOFF] I know what it means! They gave it to me because they think I’ll get angry and do something stupid anyway. And they’re probably right. So maybe it’s for the best.

… He did achieve what he wanted in that regard. ;; (I mean, it was heartbreaking, and I’m Constantly Sad About Tim. But at least… he got what he wanted, which was to hurt the Circus and avenge his brother. The ritual would have failed anyway, but there would have still have been mannequins running wild, maybe even Nikola. So. He took them down with him.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The solution, then, is simple: a new ritual must be devised, that will bring through… all the Powers, at once. All Fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new Powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under The Eye’s auspices, of course – we mustn’t forget our roots.”

* AHAH for Jonah still going for a “fourteen” categorisation + isolating The Extinction. He was still fairly influenced by Smirke’s taxonomy, and this reflected in his incantation (on the one hand, the neat categorisations don’t work… but he’s using them anyway) (… which is what I’m doing too, but pssh.)

* OH SHIT for the announcement that he was planning THAT. We could have had a bit of hope given that The Watcher’s Crown had failed already, and was doomed to fail anyway… but nop.

* AHAH about the “we mustn’t forget our roots” because Elias-Jonah reaaaally doesn’t sound super-devoted to his patron.

* I wonder if The Extinction will get relevant in season 5 as an “outside of the box” Power, since Elias was adamant about not including it and trying to do his thing before it would become a concern:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Yeah, but… if he’s right about… The Extinction, what it is… then why didn’t you say anything before? Why am I only hearing about this now, and why doesn’t Jon know?! ELIAS: In my case, while Peter has talked of it before, it is only very recently that I’ve been forced to admit The Extinction is real.

Was he fearing that it would complicate things too much? Is that an aspect of Fear he didn’t understand? (One bit in the Q&A pointed out that There Could Be More Fears unaccounted for, so I wonder if they’ll get purposefully developed in season 5 as a counter, or if not at all…)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: the Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s… ill-timed retirement plans. Because the thing about the Archivist is that… well: it’s a bit of a misnomer. It might, perhaps, be better named “the Archive”. Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon – you are a record of fear. Both in mind, as you walk the shuddering dread of each statement; and in body, as the Powers each leave their mark upon you. You are a living chronicle of terror. [CREAKING] Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one, and each in turn instil in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this… nightmare kingdom. … Do you see where I’m going, Jon? It does tickle me, that in this world of… would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the “Chosen One” is… simply that: someone I chose! It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your… destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.” [THUNDER CLAPPING]

* “Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans” is that the name of your own gun, Elias.

* If we’re going with “audio recording by The Archive” at the start of season 5, I’m going to scream.

* Elias’s sense of drama with the background sounds…

* The dehumanisation was THROUGH THE ROOF, and made for a very AOUCH parallel to Peter’s snarky comment to Martin (MAG126: “I’m just saying, that we’d all be better off if your Archivist actually knew how to archive.”). It was just… horrifying already, that he casually admitted that he had been setting up Jon getting hurt and marked? It was the most common hypothesis, we had been screaming with the last ones getting ticked off during season 4, we knew what was to happen when MAG159’s title had been revealed to be “The Last” (the last assistant, the last Fear to mark Jon), we had no doubt that Elias had been pulling strings in that direction… but still, there was something so unsettling about Jonah casually objectifying Jon and mentioning that he needed Jon to be hurt and afraid for his own goals…

* Oh GODS, the fact that Elias casually answered Jon’s questions about being “chosen”…

(MAG139) ARCHIVIST: Why were we chosen? Agnes was created – crafted with a specific purpose so finely tuned that even a grain of uncertainty threatened the entirety of her being. [CHORTLING] But I’m so full of doubt it feels like there’s no room for anything else, and… I’m sure Martin is the same…! Is there “destiny” here? B–bloodlines and… prophecies, or did we just… stumble into this? Maybe we’re the opposite of Agnes; maybe our doubts are exactly what we need. I–if that’s the case, I’m a… an amazing chosen one. … [LONG EXHALE] Don’t know how that would work, though.

Tim had mentioned that the Fears attacking you was just “bad luck” (MAG117)… and it’s one side of the coin. The flip side, in Jonah’s case, is that no, someone picked you and chose to hurt you. That’s coherent with Elias’s ~paternalistic~ comments about “choices” in MAG092, but really, I do hate (it’s well-done!) how far he goes when it comes to casual victim-blaming, gods.

* How is your hubris today, Jonah. Reminder that characters characterised by their hubris (Leitner, Smirke, Mary…) fell and crashed pretty harshly in TMA, Jonah.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “I’ll admit my options were somewhat limited, but – my God! When you came to me already marked by The Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as a sort of… implicit blessing on my whole project, and… do you know what? I think it was…!”

* Still refisdhnjerfdujbrefduhejkzfsd over the fact that Jonah went basically “oh, The Web probably approved?” when… from what we can guess of The Web, NO, IT PRECISELY SENT JON TO USE YOU, YOU DUMB VICTORIAN!!

* “What does the Spider want?” is still the eternal question – why did it want/allow this apocalypse to happen? If it wanted to prevent it, it would have had many occasions to prevent Jon from coming into contacts with other Fears, so… What does the Mother want out of it?

* Jon had mentioned that The Web had “touched” him first:

(MAG081) ARCHIVIST: I do not know how many of them there are, or precisely how they separate, but I do know that the Eye – Beholding – was not the first that I encountered in my life. The first was the Spider. The Web. And I have no idea what that might mean. […] The first of the dark powers to touch me, perhaps, but it did not claim me.

… And it just added up to Jonah’s terribleness: just reminding Jon that he had been picked because of the Web-story that had terrorised his youth…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push; learn how you worked. So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and while she was always prepared… I made sure you would not be. I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all Fourteen. So when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start. You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how much further you would get – though I waited until the worms were in you to pull the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.”

* … It explained why he Elias was occasionally almost praising Jon’s survival skills:

(MAG080) LEITNER: And what’s he going to think when he gets back? ELIAS: Well, he was always going to need to fly the nest at some point. Go out and see the world for himself. LEITNER: He might die. ELIAS: It’s always a danger. Almost always.

(MAG092) ARCHIVIST: What do you want? ELIAS: Honestly? To offer some congratulations. You’re doing a lot better than I expected. ARCHIVIST: Feels like all I’ve managed to do is… not die. ELIAS: And believe me, that is a remarkably rare skill.

* Re: the dehumanisation, it was incredible how it sounded like Jonah was talking about a small animal that he had to tame (and… even that, taming it in a bad way). It put such a bittersweet light on their exchanges in season 1? Because back then, it was still obvious that Jon had some respect for him…

* When I had listened to MAG040 for the first time, I had pictured Elias having a coffee, a smoke, another coffee, waiting for it to cool down, before pulling the lever; I mean, how much time would it take for him to reach it in a small Institute? I was already spoiled that he was Bad, back then, but… the fact that Jonah casually admitted that HE had been the one who got to decide whether or not Jon had the “right” to live at the end of MAG039 is another kind of terribleness………

* He was casually insensitive towards Jon’s wounds in MAG040 (comparing them to Swiss Cheese), and I’m not sure if that was a conscious effort to mess with Jon, or just his very natural lack of empathy showing through.

* The only “help” they had gotten against the worms had been provided by Michael, through Sasha, with the tip regarding the fire extinguishers… How much did Jon have to insist for Elias to provide them with some…?

* Not even a mention of Tim, who had gone through hell at the same time as Jon – and it was very telling… that for Jonah, Tim had only been collateral damage, not really mattering.

* There was something incredibly cruel in that “all the way to your bones”, and Jonah was absolutely just reopening old wounds and reactivating Jon’s trauma and terrors, uh…

(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? More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with The Distortion. If “it” had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path. So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement. … Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost on those… narrow London side streets. It worked, though. Between the stabbing, and at least two desperate flights into its door… you’re marked very deep by The Spiral.”

* Again: Fork U, re: “hindsight” joke.

* Not!Sasha had mentioned as soon as MAG040 that Elias had stared at her “funnily”, which was a good indicator that he knew… but I’m surprised that Elias admitted that he had not noticed the moment The Stranger had infiltrated the Institute, before it was too late? He should have known the risk associated with the table, right? The Not!Them had been bound to it for fifteen years at this point!

* Get a double slice of Stranger in your face, Jon.

* ;; Tim wasn’t mentioned at all in Jonah’s statement, and that’s the only mention of Sasha… just as someone who had allowed The Distortion to come closer…

* I DIDN’T EXPECT AT ALL THE BIT ABOUT HELEN!!! FUCK!!! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO GO “Poor Helen” AT HER, YOU HORRIBLE NASTY MAN!! That was one of the cruellest new things in his statement, the fact that he had sent her to give a statement and shoved her into a taxi, only to nudge Michael towards Jon??? I wonder whether Helen-the-Distortion remembers it: it might get relevant in season 5…? We never saw Elias interact with The Distortion, after all, and he had a very poor opinion of Michael in MAG092.

* Yeah, “marked very deep by The Spiral”, uh. Uh. (Stabbing from MAG047 when Jon tried to save Helen, first flight into the corridors at the end of MAG078, second journey through the corridors at the end of MAG101, small adventure in the corridors in MAG131, another journey through the corridors at the end of MAG143. No wonder Jonah has a hard time keeping track of the amount of times.)

* ;; No mention at all that both Tim and Martin had experienced the Not!Them’s deceptions and that they also went through Michael’s corridors… once again, collaterals who didn’t matter much to him, uh…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to… improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast. I… justified it to myself, saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.”

* So: it wasn’t necessarily that Elias didn’t want Leitner to tell Jon about the Institute being a temple to Beholding and Elias being bad (which Leitner did tell Jon), but about Gertrude’s own conclusions regarding Elias being in fact “Jonah Magnus”, and the rituals not working. So once again… Gertrude withholding information and not sharing it all actually worked in the world’s disfavour – Leitner was still concerned about The Unknowing, when the priority should have lain elsewhere…

* Confirmation, once again, that Elias had indeed no idea about Leitner living in the tunnels back then. We still don’t know if he truly has trouble seeing down there, or if it was solely A Disappearance protecting Leitner from his sight…

* Funny thing is that Elias has been pretty consistent about the fact that Leitner was a bit of a mistake:

(MAG092) ELIAS: So. For the avoidance of any doubt. I killed Gertrude Robinson because she intended to destroy the Archives. And I killed Jurgen Leitner because he was… an unnecessary complication. Likely to tell Jon too much, too early.

(MAG102) ELIAS: I have been trying to give you the information you need. ARCHIVIST: Sure, when you’re not bashing its head in with a pipe. ELIAS: Leitner was… I will admit I possibly… overreacted to his sudden re-emergence.

(MAG108) PETER: Oh. That doesn’t sound like the Elias I know. He killed people himself? MARTIN: I mean, I wasn’t, I wasn’t there, but that’s what he said…? And I did see the body. Er, bodies. PETER: Elias Bouchard, getting his hands dirty. Well-well. Must be the End Times.

* Obligatory “oh my GODS, ELIAS…” re: “I justified [Leitner’s murder] to myself” because… talk about something that feels like a Web-thing. It was repeated many times that the violent impulsive bit was surprising from Elias, and Jon had precisely left the room to smoke a cigarette (recurrent theme of the Web, Jon in possession of a Web lighter etc.), leaving Leitner alone. That. Sounds awfully like Elias being a tool of The Web, rather than making that decision by himself………

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body, in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.”

* Elias revealed that he had used his ways to get her assigned on the case… while their first interaction in MAG082 consisted in Elias blackmailing her right away. Typical.

* So, in a way, people that Elias feels he “chose” so far: Jon… and Daisy.

* … So that was why he just threw out that random bit about Jon Being Very Dangerous:

(MAG082) ELIAS: I leave the matter of Jonathan Sims up to you, though I will not tell you where he is. I suggest you close the case and move on, but if you find yourself unable to do so, my advice is to kill him quickly. There’s no telling what he might be capable of.

He didn’t really need to, though, given how Daisy had her own grudge against Jon (the fact that he had unwittingly forced her to give him her statement against her will). But I do appreciate how Elias tried to frame him, and Basira just waltzed in, told Daisy “For god’s sake look at him!” (MAG091) when she was threatening him… and yup, indeed. Does not look like a murderer. (Although nowadays, Peter would like to differ.)

* Obligatory I’M SAD ABOUT DAISY, because, back then, she wouldn’t have minded much… but if she were to regain her sense in season 5 somehow (ha), how upset would she be to learn that the time she had hurt Jon (strangled or sliced his throat a bit) had worked as his Hunt mark, crossing another one off…? (Though, later, Julia&Trevor also did the work: Jon was hunted by Julia, and hurt by them both when they threatened him in season 4.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a… few avatars I thought were likely to harm you, but probably would stop short of actually killing you. Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr Crew – marking you for The Desolation, and The Vast.”

* I call bullshit on Jude, since trying to track her down… wasn’t the only conclusion you could make of Gertrude’s recording in MAG087: Gertrude mentioned she was back in London, sure, but it was a Stranger-related statement about the imminence of The Unknowing, and there were many leads to take from that one (investigating the forest? The skin aspect? The mannequins?), especially since Jon knew he had to try to stop the ritual. So, on that one, pretty sure it was Jonah making sense “retroactively”, but that he really had no idea where Jon would go with it.

* Though I can believe that he had made sure that “rumours” saying that he had been the one to kill Gertrude would reach the Lightless Flame, as Jude as heard (not fundamentally to make sure she wouldn’t harm Jon�� but to make sure that they wouldn’t attack the Institute after Gertrude’s death).

* Same, Jude directing Jon towards Mike really was a fluke, thanks to Jon&Jude’s conversation!

* Jonny trying to hammer that Mike Crew Is Absolutely Dead And Done, once again.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Honestly, I had… nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here; so whenever her rage bubbled over, you were right there, a ready target. I didn’t foresee the mark coming from… surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.”

* Alllriiight, so that’s what he was checking in MAG084, when we heard static when he was talking with Melanie! He discovered the bullet in that moment.

* ;; Slaughtered!Melanie was blaming Jon for being responsible of the fact she was trapped here… and she was wrong, but a bit of truth was in there – Elias had trapped her because she would be useful for his plans regarding Jon.

* List of people Jonah “chose”: Jon, Daisy, Melanie.

* OH GODS, AND THAT WAS WHY HE WAS SO CHIRPY IN MAG102…………

(MAG102) ARCHIVIST: I get, I get that you hate being here, Melanie, but do you really want to trade it for prison? MELANIE: No! But the way I see it, the police seem really keen not to investigate crimes committed here. ELIAS: That’s actually fair. ARCHIVIST: Shut up…! Melanie, please. […] We, We will… We will find a way to deal with… with him. Not today. A–and not like this. ELIAS: I am still here, you know. ARCHIVIST: And if you weren’t, I assume you would be watching this conversation, so... Melanie, we can’t do this. Not yet.

I had assumed, back then, that he was just very dumb, but… no. He was probably throwing oil on the fire on purpose, to try to get Jon stabbed by her right then, right there.

* ;; Same, I wonder if Melanie will learn that her stabbing him was actually a Slaughter mark, engineered/hoped by Jonah…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something The Unknowing served to test, though it posed no… actual danger in the grand scheme of things.”

* And that explained Elias’s comments about what he considered Jon’s necessary progresses, successes and failures!

(MAG116) ELIAS: I have been doing my best to prepare you, Jon, to See. You should hopefully have it a bit easier than the others. ARCHIVIST: Another of my… powers? ELIAS: More… an aspect of your becoming.

(MAG120) ELIAS: You’re doing well, Jon. I only hope you can continue your growth without my guidance.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. His performance during The Unknowing was… disappointing. I needed a way to force him to harness his ability more acutely than he had before. The coffin was a useful tool; Daisy an adequate bait. BASIRA: Then you messed up. Way he tells it, he doesn’t know how he got out of there. ELIAS: But he did. And his powers were no small part of it. Even if he required some assistance, they were what saved him. And he’s still achieved what no one – mortal, monster, or anything in-between – has ever been able to. He climbed out of The Buried.

Elias praised him for his dreams, because they were proof of his records of fears; he lamented what he did during The Unknowing, since Jon was barely able to survive in it (ultimately resorting to compulsion, giving Tim the tools to press on the detonator)…

* And that was also why he was pushing for Jon to go in person despite the plan not relying on him:

(MAG117) ARCHIVIST: Tim isn’t going to sit home and wait, and Elias seems pretty insistent I go along. Part of me thinks it’s just so that we can see if whatever this… preparation he’s been trying to do on me works. And you know what? That same… petty little part of me… rather hopes it doesn’t; that all this time, all his… cryptic nudges and “learn to fly by falling” attitude ends up being a complete waste of time. Just to show him. Even so, I–I– it wouldn’t… feel right to not go.

… because ultimately, he was testing Jon in a controlled environment.

* (Still no mention of Tim who died there, and it was just adding to Jonah’s overall cruelty? The fact that Sasha and Tim died… and that it didn’t matter at all in his plans…)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront Death – a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die; too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why. As it was, it was just right; and once again you came through with flying colours.”

* No wonder that Jonah was the most worried about The End’s mark, given his own personal relationship to the fear of dying, uh.

* And :) The Web :) Sent :) An avatar of The End to wake up Jon and make him “choose”. Which Jonah didn’t mention at all, and it seems like a huge oversight – Jon didn’t “come through with flying colours” on his own, he was given the keys to decide what would happen of him, and it’s not Jonah who provided them, but Oliver, sent by The Mother.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “By this point, your abilities were coming on in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you… knowing something you shouldn’t. I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal. All that remained, then, were The Dark, The Flesh, The Buried and The Lonely.”

* Confirmation (once again after MAG120) that Martin HAD surprised him with his plan, and that Elias wasn’t really preparing Peter as an Interim Director because he thought the assistants would get him arrested, but because he had something else in mind.

* Was he planning to go hide in Scotland, or in a Lukas estate.

* So confirmation that indeed, he was trying to hide his main reason for preventing Jon from seeing him:

(MAG127) ELIAS: He can listen all he wants, but he’s at a very delicate stage right now, and I… fear my presence would be a, hum… [LIGHT JANGLING OF HANDCUFFS] a distraction.

(MAG148) ARCHIVIST: You should have let me come with. BASIRA: No. Besides, he wouldn’t have seen me if I had.

He had explained this right after Jon had described to Basira his inner “door” of knowledge, and how he tended to Know things when close to people or concepts… So it was indeed Elias trying to avoid Jon from compelling him or forcing a statement out of him or knowing about his plans.

* And yeah, this is how we had begun season 4. Only four remaining. orz

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “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.”

* Alright so: Elias confirmed that he was behind Jared’s letters:

(MAG131) JARED: 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 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. The letters, I mean. So I didn’t question them. There’s a lotta stuff in this world I’ve never understood, and these were no different. Then I got one about your lot, your Archives. Told me to go there and kill you. They even sent a picture. So I did. Well, I tried. Didn’t know about those tunnels, or wherever this place is, but the pipes… they were wide enough for me and a few mates to squeeze through, bit by bit, one bone at a time.

… Back when the episode had aired, I had multiple suspects: Annabelle, obviously (since there was the matter of the big font in MAG123), potentially Adelard (because what was he doing?? … we didn’t know at the time that he was already dead.), potentially Peter (to push Martin towards him), and also Elias… because of the “bones” + the irony of the “pipes”. I can’t believe it was Elias, I hate everything.

* We had speculated a lot about the intentions of the person who had sent Jared after the Archives: was it to “punish” the assistants? To make sure they would fragment and avoid for them to plan together again like they had at the end of season 3? Was it to push Martin towards Peter? To enhance Melanie’s Slaughter effects? Was it someone targeting Jon himself, and just not knowing that he was currently in a not!coma? … And nop: it was indeed targeting Jon, and the letters had been sent by someone who knew that Jon was currently away from the Archives.

* I mean. Elias. Elias, my dude, my Victorian bro. What did you expect, by making Jared used to attack people on sight as soon as he would receive letters with his next target, when you sent him a letter with his next target? WHO was really the idiot there.

* “I couldn’t see what happened in there” is an unfortunate confession: so Jonah… can’t see in Helen’s corridors. That could come in handy during season 5…

* This is an implicit confirmation: Elias is not the one listening through the tapes, since Jon’s encounter with Jared was recorded, but Elias only drew his conclusions when he came out.

* HEY ELIAS. HOW FUNNY THAT THE WEB HAD SENT A FLESH-RELATED STATEMENT TO JON, DRAWING HIM TO THE CONCLUSION THAT HIS OWN BODY COULD BE USED AS AN ANCHOR, AND THUS CONTRIBUTING TO HIM GOING DOWN TO SEE JARED AND ASKED HIM TO REMOVE A RIB, THUS MARKING HIM FOR THE FLESH. HOW FUNNY HOW THE WEB BASICALLY SAVED YOUR PLANS’ BUTTS WHEN YOU HAD DRAMATICALLY FAILED.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting. Honestly, Detective Tonner has proven invaluable through this whole process. [CHUCKLE] I was racking my brains for month about what I could use to lure you in.”

* Breekon wasn’t sure why he was going to the Institute, and that’s another “potentially the Web” thing.

* ;; Sad because “wild goose chase” has been the recurring way of referring to Basira getting misled and manipulated… (MAG134: “Then, your detective friend went on one of Elias’s wild goose chases, then Jon wilfully hurled himself into the coffin.” / MAG148: “So, what now? Another wild goose chase?”) There was something gratuitously mean about calling her “restraining factors” instead of her name…

* I’m SAD about DAISY, okay orz The fact that he presented her as a tool for his goals…

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting; so when it came time, I whipped up another apocalypse, and sent you on your merry way.”

* It was a very strange thing that he would just begin to talk about the Dark Sun right after Jon had learned about it through a statement, indeed, so… I guess that he got inspired by Jon, rather than having that one under his sleeve all along?

* Also: he made sure that the police would get rid of Rayner and a few cultists during season 2. If he hadn’t done that, there would have still been a few powerful but diminished Dark avatars roaming around, who could have been used to mark Jon. So really: lots of posturing but actually lots of improvising, though Jonah isn’t really admitting that – but it’s interesting to focus on what he doesn’t talk about to clear that up a bit…

* Still laughing in retrospect that he… didn’t really try to Sell the Dark ritual much. It was mostly a “you can’t afford to be wrong about it being nothing” to Basira, and she had ample preexisting reasons to think that The Dark could be a threat (since she had lost a colleague against them, and that it had put into motion the chain of events leading her to quit the police).

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “Then all that remained… was The Lonely. Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. [CHUCKLE] Or just done what I’d asked in the first place. Ah, well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him… a little wager about Martin. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.”

* Fork you and your puns, Jonah.

* ;; Peter did explain to Jon that he was weak to a wager, in MAG159…

* I’m a bit sad that we never saw Elias&Peter interact a bit more… cordially, since they had been acquaintances for at least 20 years – we didn’t really see why they were putting up with the other, and Jonah didn’t sound heartbroken (at all) over Peter’s annihilation? On the other hand, the bitter exes dynamic was hilarious but… you know. I’ll miss Peter, he was so awful and fun.

* Confirmation that Martin was Jon’s anchor… and Elias knew it full well.

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? [RUMBLE OF THUNDER] He’s earned that.”

* Big “OH NO” moment on first listen, because I got seized up by the dread that something was currently happening to Martin (who was outside, alone), and that would be how Jonah would be striking… I really didn’t expect the final incantation.

* Fork you and your puns 2.0, Jonah.

* I HATE that “he’s earned that”, implying that Martin made efforts and sacrifices just to be taken care of and/or that he ~served Jonah’s plans so well~ that he’s earned to get his love story during the apocalypse.

* …………….. But also….. Listen………………. Elias->Martin is one of my favourite ships, okay……. And it was just candy……. that Elias would randomly remember him……

* Or: not so randomly, since the point of his whole statement seemed to have been to make Jon’s old fears and pain bubble over the surface all over again. What could be more efficient than suddenly bringing up Martin, when Jon knew that Martin was alone outside?

* I have a Lot Of Feelings over the fact that the last person to (unwillingly) serve Elias’s plans… was Martin. For his plan to work, Jonah needed to be sure that Jon would go after Martin (we heard a lot of pining through season 4, and so did Elias, uh.), and that Martin would be the key for Jon to come back (which is something he likely deduced from The Buried?). It’s still the thing that scares me much about Jonah: you would want him to underestimate and overlook affection, friendship and love between people… but no. He’s fully able to take those things into account — and to turn them against you.

(Though: I’m really not sure that he knew that Jon had feelings for Martin, or was likely to develop some, back when he sent Peter to Martin in MAG108, nor that Martin would fork Peter over (since he hadn’t taken Elias down yet)… He could have been relying on the fact that Martin had a crush, back then, to make sure that Martin would stick to Jon’s side and not lose himself to The Lonely? And Jon was already adamant about protecting his remaining assistants: he would have gone to save Basira, Daisy or Melanie in The Lonely, too, just like he rescued Daisy. I’m not sure the idea of an anchor to find his way back had crossed Jonah’s mind before The Buried… Jonah presents a lot of things organically and logically through his statements, but he’s probably rearranging details in his advantage: he got very lucky, quite often. … Or, well. The appropriateness of the term “Lucky” depends on how much The Web will be revealed to have contributed.)

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “And there, I think we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but… past here lies only impatience. You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of The Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here. Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here – in the world that we have made.”

* At this point, I still didn’t know how he would strike, and still not expecting an incantation.

* I hatehatehate Jonah’s use of first-person plural. It’s nothing new:

(MAG092) ELIAS: [SIGH] What are you? ARCHIVIST: I… The Archivist. ELIAS: Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others. To simply be told, well… ARCHIVIST: It doesn’t please your master? ELIAS: Our master, Jon. […] We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron.

… but here? Absolutely making complicit, almost like an associate, when he was forcing Jon to read, when he had pointed out as soon as his first lines that Jon would try to resist reading? Awful.

On the incantation in itself:

(MAG160, Jonah Magnus) “You who watch and know and understand none; You who listen and hear and will not comprehend; You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right; Come to us in your wholeness! Come to us in your perfection! Bring all that is fear, and all that is terror, and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies! Come to us! I – OPEN – THE DOOR!”

* It’s still interesting that, when it comes to aspects of the Amorphous Blob Of Terrors, Jonah still went for the good old fourteen regarding Jon’s marks and the incantation (Beholding + Corruption, Buried, Dark, Vast, Spiral, Lonely, Stranger, Web, Desolation, Hunt, Slaughter, Flesh, End). Indeed, he was planning on doing things before the Extinction would fully emerge, but I wonder if other potential aspects, that have been left out, will get relevant in season 5…

* Aaaaaaaaaaaand… there was a general expectation/fear in the fandom, since Jon had mentioned his inner door of knowledge, that it would be opened at some point:

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] It’s… hard. It’s like there’s a��a–a door, in my mind. And behind it, is… i–is the entire ocean. Before, I didn’t notice it, but now, I–I know it’s there, and I can’t forget it, and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. I–I–I, I can keep it closed… but sometimes, when I’m around p–people, or–or places, or… ideas… a drop or two will push through the cracks, at the edges of the door. And I’ll… know something. BASIRA: … What happens, if you open the door? [PAUSE] ARCHIVIST: I drown.

On that one, I think that Jonah might have used the imagery of the “door” specifically because it was a really strong symbolic element for Jon: Mr Spider’s door, that he hadn’t knocked on; Helen’s door in his dreams, that he refuses to open (MAG120: “There is a door in front of him. A yellow door. He knows the dream it used to lead to; he knows it well. But that’s not where it leads anymore. He does not know what is behind it anymore, and he is deathly afraid of finding out. The Archivist turns away.”) as well as his refusal to knock on her door through season 4 until MAG146; there is also the fact that people who knew Jon rarely tended to knock on his door in season 1 and 2 (they just barged in), as if they knew knocking was something he didn’t appreciate.

Independently, Martin got kind of a warning (?) with The Extinction (MAG134: “It talked of Garland Hillier’s “new revelation”, about the absolute change of the world in terms that seemed at first elegiac, but later seemed… almost panicked, with the final entry simply repeating the words [STATIC:] “La porte est la porte.” “The door is the door.””), although it was another sort of movement: leaving your comfortable world to go into another, and coming back to yours safely. Not sure it will be that simple in season 5.

* New all-Fears ritual doesn’t have a name but would be tentatively called “The Magnus Archive” according to Jonny-on-discord, which. Sob.

- What I find interesting in what Jonah didn’t mention at all:

* It was revealing that he didn’t mention the assistants (or barely): didn’t mention Tim or Sasha’s deaths, Melanie’s escape, Daisy turning into a beast again, Basira being still trapped there. He had presented the assistants as disposable in MAG092, he really wanted to hammer in that it was the case here, uh… (Although he might have appreciated Basira a tiny bit this season?)

* I’m still curious about why he didn’t want Tim to go to The Unknowing. Was it because he was fearing that Tim would go rogue and definitely kill Jon there? … Or was it because he was fearing that Tim would die there while he had other projects for him? (… Next host…?)

* Nothing about Jon’s relationship to the tape recorders, which, mmmmmmmmmmmm.

* Nothing about Jon’s Web lighter sticking to him.

* A surprisingly short mention of The Web and that was it, despite how obviously it appeared that The Web had been a bit more involved than this in Jon’s adventures.

* … It’s still extremely suspicious to me that a Web-touched “Jonathan” began working at the Institute, while Jonah used to be friends with a “Jonathan Fanshawe” (“my namesake” according to Jon) who ultimately told him to fork off. That doesn’t really feel like narrative irony, but something pushed on purpose to get Jonah’s attention?

* It was Elias’s big moment of claiming his actions, and a few mysteries remain since he didn’t claim credit for Martin’s “intuition” of putting tape recorders around the Coffin to get Jon back, nor for putting Adelard’s last statement (originally an email!) on Jon’s desk, nor for the tape of Gertrude’s murder in Jon’s drawer. So… Web actions?

- I can’t believe that:

(MAG160) [CLICK–] [CONSTANT FUZZY STATIC] MARTIN: Wake up, wake up…! Wake, Jon–Jon–JON, wake up! [SLAP] ARCHIVIST: [YELP] Uh, wha– … Martin…?

Alex&Jonny are promising there will be no onscreen kiss… but we did get a slap.

- That was ONE HELL OF AN ENDING:

(MAG160) MARTIN: I, I don’t know if it’s just here, or if it– ARCHIVIST: No. … No, it’s everywhere… They’re all here, now. I can feel… all of it. MARTIN: J– … Jon, I’m scared. ARCHIVIST: [HINT OF A COLD SMILE] The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me. And The Watcher… drinks it all in. MARTIN: … Jon? ARCHIVIST: Look at the sky, Martin! Look at the sky. It’s looking back! [BROKEN LAUGHTER] [CLICK.]

I love how it was impossible to tell if Jon was genuinely laughing or breaking down sobbing, and it was probably a mix of both.

- The situation, as it ends, leaves potential for everyone to feel guilty:

* Jon already highlighted it (“The whole world is afraid, Martin. Because of me.”) – although he was manipulated, pushed in that direction, and ultimately controlled into doing it without being able to fight back. In Jon’s case, one source of heartbreak is that he had tried to cling, although bittersweetly, to the idea that sacrifices had to be made to save the world:

(MAG093) GEORGIE: Jonathan Sims, are you trying to save the world? ARCHIVIST: I… Yeah. I… I guess I am.

(MAG150) ARCHIVIST: What about The Unknowing? We, we saved the world! MELANIE: Did we? I… I mean, I–I think it was the right thing to do, but how many people were killed to do it? We, we weren’t even a neutral party; we did it as agents of The Eye, because Elias told us to. […] You ever think that maybe this whole… ritual business is just an excuse, an–and that we’re all part of some… huge miserable Fear-machine? ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I’ve… considered the possibility.

(MAG155) ARCHIVIST: I’ve… [DRY CHUCKLE] I’ve saved the world…! The whole world! Does that… give me the right to… [SIGH] take what I need to survive…? I’ve been reading nothing but these old, [FLAPPING PAPER] dry statements for so long, I… [PAPER RUSTLING] I feel weak. Like I’m… fading away. Do I restrain myself, keep my appetite in check, even at the cost of my life? Or do I try to rationalise what I am, like… Ms. McHugh?

And the end of the season was a double-slap: he hadn’t even saved the world in the first place… and he was instrumentalised to cause the apocalypse in the end.

* Martin hadn’t checked the statements, had decided to go for a walk, and had previously been used for Jon’s last mark with The Lonely (and their situation is kind of echoing what Jon had told Peter, when he wasn’t managing to get Martin back at first: “… It was for me, though. I’m the reason he…! … I did this to him as much as you.”) – although, of course, none of it was his fault.

* Basira had been the one to send the statements, and it’s unclear yet if Jonah’s was already snuck inside the pile she sent, whether he added it during the transit (… or if he had made her put it in with the others? I doubt it, but how would Basira react, if he were to promise her that he could lead her to Daisy…?) – although she had done it in good faith, to make sure that Jon would keep himself in check.

* Daisy marked Jon for The Hunt, and then was used as bait for The Buried…

* Melanie gave Jon his Slaughter scar, Melanie&Georgie refused to help Jon at the end of MAG157 because they didn’t want to be associated with the fears (and it was their full right).

I like how bittersweet it is, to see how “easily” things could have been avoided? While, of course, they didn’t want the apocalypse to happen, and they were fighting against someone who had a few centuries of planning behind him, without knowing where he would strike. They’re not responsible for any of it, objectively, but I’m curious about their perceptions of the matter…

- Still so impressed at the build-up for this season, because we had so many hints that are easy to see in retrospect, or things that were easily discernible thematically, though it was harder to see where it was supposed to go…

* The scar/marks theory had been a popular one for a long while, even acknowledged by Jon:

(MAG093) ARCHIVIST: Elias has been sending me statements, apparently to prepare me, whatever that means, but some of the people I’ve been talking to have been… very dangerous. I’m starting to feel like a bit of a punching bag, to be honest. Would be nice to meet a monster, and not have a scar to show for it.

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Oh. It–it’s fine; scalpel wounds… [CHUCKLE] they heal quickly. BASIRA: Hm. ARCHIVIST: … Too quickly, really. [CHUCKLE] BASIRA: Already? [CHAIR SCRAPES] ARCHIVIST: Just another scar for the collection!

And we were right about it ;; The question was mostly why it was necessary, the assumption was that it was to prepare him for The Watcher’s Crown… and it was even worse than that.

* A big chunk of season 4 was about investigating rituals: in season 3, we knew that The Spiral, The Buried and The Unknowing were not current threats anymore. This season, we were told that The Flesh, The Vast and The Slaughter were past concerns, that The Dark had already had its turn recently, why exactly The Buried had failed, what had neutralised The Desolation, that The Hunt’s whole concept dictates that it couldn’t really have a culmination point, that Gertrude had savagely taken care of The Lonely’s, that The Corruption might have had its try with the attack on the Institute, that The End and The Web aren’t really in the game (or are they.)… and ultimately that The Watcher’s Crown had already been attempted 150 years ago. The surprise laid with the fact that Jonah was planning bigger.

* We already had a few hints that something was off in season 1 and 2 (Elias being a filing clerk in the 70s, but joining the Institute in 1991 and… changing… a lot… to the point he had become the new Head in 1996), but it only increased afterwards: starting season 3, Jonah’s letters were systematically episodes in which Elias was appearing (MAG092, MAG098, MAG127, MAG138); Elias’s detailed knowledge of Jonah’s actions and emotions in MAG092; Manuela presenting the Head of the Institute as an old friend of Maxwell Rayner (MAG135) and not naming him; Eric Delano’s surprise about Elias changing so much (MAG154)… + Elias tending to appear in episodes with “remains” in the title (MAG040, MAG092, MAG127), which. ha.

* A whole thematic arc was, also, about Jon’s identity (as a person or a monster), leading to Martin’s “I see you” and ending with acceptance.

* So. Many. Doors. This seasons. And it led to Elias opening That One.

Overall thoughts looking back over season 4, re: big questions I had towards the end of season 3 / beginning of season 4:

- I’m still laughing really hard that “Wow, Jon, sounds like pining” at the beginning of the season turned out to have been actual pining. I was cautious about it from experience (it could be something else, feelings don’t have to be romantic in nature to be important, you can long for someone without being romantically interested, qpp is a thing, etc.) and then! Surprise, children! The Archivist had it bad.

- Adelard Dekker wasn’t showing up… because he was dead already (died even before Gertrude). I was growing suspicious of it but ;; Ouft, the way he gave his farewells…

- No Lukas!Martin (well, one could still run with that without contradicting canon, but it would also clash with the recurring theme that bloodlines do not actually matter in the end); in the end, Peter’s interest in Martin specifically was because of 1°) abandonment/longing issues, 2°) one-sided crush (which ended up reciprocated), 3°) Elias needing Peter to choose Martin and sending Peter after him specifically because he thought that Martin would ultimately reject Peter’s plan, thus ensuring Elias’s win. At the time of their encounter (MAG108), Martin hadn’t even proved to Elias that he was more cunning that Elias accounted for! Picked Martin for gayness (at the time, Elias probably thought that Martin would cling to Jon’s side and/or that Jon would try to get him back since he was overall concerned for his assistants, thus getting scarred by The Lonely in the process?), ended up winning because of Martin being more cleverer than assumed and Elias had faith that Martin would be allowed to play Peter like the cheap whistle he is. (Look, I’m not saying that Elias->Martin is the superior ship, but–)

(Something funny: Elias sent Peter to Martin in MAG108, and that was shortly after MAG106, in which Melanie and Basira’s office gossip made it clear that Martin’s concern over Jon was not Martin’s usual behaviour, and that other characters were suspecting that there were romantic feelings behind it. Given Elias’s tendency to improvise, I still think it’s absolutely possible that… Elias hadn’t even noticed the crush before Melanie&Basira talked about it.)

- I was so cautious about the assumption that Rayner was body-hopping, I was expecting that to be a red herring or something more complicated, but nop! Occam’s Razor, he absolutely was.

Same for Jonah Magnus and also dead wrong in that regard (but it does make sense that the two operated similarly, since Jonah knew him and in this world the supernatural tends to work… the way you think it should work) =D

- … So, confirmed in the Q&A that Gertrude was meant to have been shot multiple times on tape, and that there was no foul play in the fact that we only heard one gunshot in MAG158 vs. the three holes in her body Martin had reported in MAG040. So I was off the mark about that too, and she truly was meant to have died in March 2015 during The Dark’s ritual attempt!

(Though there is still the problem of MAG087 not making any sense when it comes to the dates… so there could still be Something, but no gunshot involved?)

- I loved how one of the focuses this season was the ritual, and the conclusion it reached! Basira had introduced the concern over the rituals (and specifically Beholding’s) in MAG123, we spent the whole season cataloguing which ones had failed recently, sometimes being told how they had been interrupted, sometimes not but with some wild-mass guessing; it was a major concern all through the season, and the pay-off was grandiose and making so much sense given what we already knew!

- I’m still laughing very hard about the anticipation of the Ny-Ålesund trip, in which I was expecting butchery and Bad Things Happening To Basira (we knew, back then, that a blind character was likely coming), and maybe Rayner wasn’t truly dead?? What about The Dark’s creature?? What about the cultists and Manuela’s branch??? What about the incoming eclipse in August 2018???

… and nop, it was a bust, Elias had been a misleading arsehole, Rayner and Dark creature and most cultists dead, ritual utterly failed in 2015, Manuela alone and unable to do anything. Big “eLIAS” moment.

- Fav period was the speculation regarding Jon’s anchor, because it was wild and delightful, and I still sometimes randomly snicker remembering Lottie&Jonny’s exchange about it.

- I desperately wanted to “hear Daisy’s voice”, metaphorically (… and also, like. concretely. Fay Roberts’s voice, okay.): it was funny in MAG117 to have her skip her testament and just load a gun but, also, it wasn’t really shaping her as a 3D character? And gods, was I pleased with this season and what she had to say about what she had experienced, committed, and the feelings she had about it. I think she was my fav character this season ;_;

- We still don’t know what The Web’s deal is, but given how Jon&co were kicked out of Hill Top Road (Not Levelled Up Enough / Not The Right Time, Inspect This Area For Plot Later), it’s definitely coming in season 5.

Things I overall liked less:

(Obligatory disclaimer: personal taste and opinions, things that resonated less or more uncomfortably with me. This is not a statement that these fictional things shouldn’t exist + the show is not over, there is One Last Season, so a few reveals or development could happen that would make me like these things better overall~)

- A bit sad about the “Elias was actually Jonah Magnus all along” reveal! I do admit it’s been well-done and well-played, I did pick up on the hints here and there (Elias mentioning something that had happened in the 1970s, Jon noticing that Elias Bouchard’s reported behaviour in the past was very different from the man he knows, Elias knowing way too much about Barnabas Bennett’s disappearance, Sarah/the Anglerfish’s “It’s Elias now, then?” and Nikola’s “Elias, can I call you Elias?” (The Stranger had reasons to have a kick with his identity-stealing methods!), Manuela conveying Rayner’s hello, the fact that Robert Smirke had pointed out that Jonah feared death most of all); the reveal was incredible and breath-taking… but! I do agree that it would have been a completely different story (this one is the story of someone refusing to die, and who has been sacrificing anything and anyone over two centuries to gain “power and immortality”), but I would have loved it if the local and consistent big bad had been a lazy privileged but opportunistic student who had found his calling in scheduling and paperwork twenty years ago ^^

- A bit sad, too, that it means we’ve never met an avatar of Beholding (or someone affiliated with Beholding) who wholly worships it? Clearly, Jonah is a lot more Beholding than he admitted (and there was reverence in how he described it in MAG120), but he also wants to think that he mostly used it for his own gain. No (twisted) love like Jane and the Hive, or Jude&Eugene towards The Desolation, or Manuela towards The Dark, or Hezekiah towards The Buried, or Simon towards The Vast, etc.

I wonder if we’ll meet a true and unabashed servant of Beholding in season 5?

- I loved Peter&Elias’s “divorced multiple times” energy, but I’m a bit sad that it felt so unbalanced in Peter’s disfavour in the end: it clearly felt like Elias-Jonah had toyed with him a lot, while Peter was too young and lacking experience and knowledge to be able to see when he was being manipulated?

- A bit surprised about the lack of Tim! His death was heart-breaking, and as much as circumstances weren’t great for some mourning and pondering about him (Jon woke up six months after his death, when other characters had lived through it), it… didn’t really feel like Tim had existed and died in the series, compared to Sasha (at the end of season 2 and during season 3, while they precisely didn’t remember her as a person)…? At times, it felt like maybe a Tim had once worked here, but he had quit on his own, not that… he had died. Maybe I’m a bit blinded by the fact that I experienced season 4 on a weekly basis, whereas I had just listened to season 2 and 3 in one go, but even now, even after compiling, I still feel like something was missing… (For example: Martin refusing to talk about him twice, Jon listing him amongst the dead with Sasha… versus Tim asking Melanie to describe the real Sasha to him and going to lie down, audibly upset and collapsing on himself. I feel like I was missing a bit of emotion in season 4 regarding Tim…? ;_;)

- I’m more neutral than anything about it because it’s conflicting one thing I love and something I don’t like much: Georgie & Melanie! I’m super glad that Georgie was revealed to be bi, and that she got a girlfriend! I’m super glad for a F/F couple! I’m super glad that “Georgie and Melanie as a Thing” is now canon! But I’m personally not too fond of storylines where a romantic involvement happens during or at the beginning of a process of recovery (in such circumstances I’m more invested when it’s a caring but careful friendship), so that one did miss the mark a bit for me. At the same time, I would have been a bit sad if Georgie&Melanie had become a duo without anything romantic ever, so.

- Nnnot too fond of the “terror attack” at the beginning of MAG158, mostly the fact that we heard the guns&the screams and knew it was happening. Overall, I’m not too fond of “random people get terrorised and butchered just because they’re in the way of people targeting the protags”, plus there, the whole concept that it was a cleansing felt… a bit too rough for me. So, really glad that Alex said they toned it down to avoid getting too close to real-life, as opposed to for instance having someone injured stepping in into the Archives to reveal what was happening, because yips, would have been way too far for me indeed ^^”

- Instead of “Oh! That was interesting and very sad and an amazing exploration”, I’m still mostly uncomfortable and disgusted towards the whole storyline of Jon having attacked people.

Disclaimer: I’m not very fond of stories where a twist is that your male protagonist was, in fact, an unreliable narrator doing some very cruel and horrible things while the information we had until then was designed to stir empathy for him. I also felt like MAG141-142 were very disjointed from the first half of season 4 – there had been no hint of Jon having attacked people before, while it was a festival of Jon making references to his “victims” right after it was revealed to us? And, more specifically, I find MAG142 extremely well-executed, the voice acting was fantastic on its own, but it also cemented that the most accurate comparison to what Jon was doing, to me, wasn’t “addiction” or “hunger”: it was sexual assault. It wasn’t that, I’m aware, but it did provoke in me the same visceral discomfort of… following a sexual assaulter’s woes about his own actions, and sobbing that he’s becoming a monster and did something bad when, yeah, dude, you did something bad? Especially with Jess: a woman in the middle of a romantic encounter is preyed upon, is cornered when alone; our male protagonist subjects her to something she didn’t want, hurts her deeply, thanks her for the experience, leaves, leaving her a mess… and her Narrative Purpose was to come ring the alarm about it to his male love interest. We learn that there were three victims, plus Jess and Floyd (whom we witnessed first-hand). The conclusion is that, although influenced, it was all Jon’s actions. It’s made clear that Jon knew that it was happening (although he wanted to cling to the hope that he was manipulated into doing it), that he hid it from the others while claiming that they needed to trust him, and that it only stopped “because he was caught”. And we end the season with cheering for Jon&Martin, with Jon going to save Martin in the Lonely and taking him back, and then spending a few weeks together in Scotland and being romantically involved, after having suffered from manipulation, isolation and circumstances for so long. Jess, Floyd, the three other victims? Don’t matter narratively past the fact that they’ve been hurt and messed up by the protagonist. Are they okay…? Well, it’s not their stories so we don’t know and, as much as we know, the characters don’t care much: Jon spent his time lamenting about what it meant about his (lack of) Humanity, and whether or not it would be rational or earned to do more harm, whether it was fair that he was suffering in trying to stop, whether his own suffering would stop… rather than expressing concern over his victims’ well-being, apologise, I don’t know, doing anything at all to prove that he wasn’t a plain villain. And we didn’t hear their voices anymore. Their purpose was to get hurt by the protag, and… so far, that’s it. And the circumstances have changed, so their suffering probably won’t matter, since everything is now awful for everyone.

There were a few narrative biases (the tape are not “neutral” and chose to not record Jon’s first four victims; Elias-Jonah didn’t even bother mentioning that it had happened in his big monologue, because… it was irrelevant for them – they are not people/entities we’re rooting for), but I feel that story-wise, it was a bit… showed that these victims weren’t supposed to matter much. Overall, they were basically treated as dead meat when it was discovered what Jon had done, as long as he stopped, and it felt extremely violent to me, especially in Jess Tyrell’s case given the circumstances in which Jon had encountered her and how she recalled the story; and it just felt (and keeps feeling) upsetting without any aesthetical pleasure…? I’m really not saying that Protags Should Always Be Pure (Jon… already wasn’t, anyway), and I do get that it was necessary to show what Jon’s choice truly meant, that Beholding was terrifying as a Fear-concept and not a lesser evil compared to the others. It’s something I’m finding interesting in fics, too! But canon-wise, I feel like it could have plainly worked if Floyd had been the only one, and if the exploration had been around what Jon had done to him…? Instead, Jon is a recidivist who knew from the start that he was one, and hid it from everyone until he was caught and stopped. That’s one of the points where I find it a bit hard to ignore that Jon is a male protag, and it’s a bit too reminiscent of IRL injustices (“it’s alright as long as he stops, right)”) – especially given that there’s no judiciary system to handle his actions. Of course, characters do what they can with what they have, amongst many bad options; they don’t have any way to do things perfectly or painlessly, it’s not that kind of story. But still, the “recidivist and hiding it from others” bit made everything discomforting and upsetting to me, rather than something that I was able to find compelling and interesting. That’s… a very human kind of monstrosity, and I just stopped caring much about him or his suffering for the rest of the season…? So a lot of the emotional beat of Jon getting Martin back and them being together just went over my head, because no, Jon is not only “a victim”, he’s also done terrible things to characters who weren’t lucky enough to be protagonists?

As I said, it’s down to personal experiences, squicks, triggers and narrative dislikes; I’m not saying the series or the handling was Problematic or anything like this! And it’s possible that we could hear from Jon’s victims in season 5!

(- A bit related: I do hope that season 5 is not a string of random people getting butchered or suffering while Jon&Martin are strolling through, or Jon Narrating Their Fate As Statements and moaning about how hard it is for him while said people are dying and suffering, because the emotional beat won’t work much for me if it’s the case ;; On the one hand, I usually don’t like apocalyptic stories much; on the other hand, I’m curious about what Jonny can do with the style; but on the third hand, the whole “Jon had secretly hurt people and hid from the others” subplot wasn’t really my brand in the way it was executed, so… I’ll See how it goes.)

- I felt like on its own, it… wasn’t technically a great season for female characters.

I loved Daisy and Melanie’s stories, and Basira’s was heart-breaking in retrospect (though she didn’t get any form of closure or temporary “end” as of now)! For me, they made the most striking storylines in season 4!

But when it comes to the main plot, what would dictate the overall circumstances all characters would suffer from… the main actors were all men. It was a bit “Mm” to me to end up in the situation, in the Panopticon, with four male characters as main players and nobody else – Annabelle wasn’t (explicitly) one, and Helen was apparently there to Watch&Giggle without intervening, Georgie&Melanie didn’t want to get involved, Basira&Daisy mostly made sure that Jon would be able to go rescue Martin, Gertrude has been dead for a while.

Now, it’s a remnant of season 1, which was mostly made of which members and friends of RQ were available to work with in this story (Jon, Martin, Elias are the only main characters who have survived since then, although Melanie had been introduced); if it had been a female character in the place of Peter or Martin… it would have felt iffy too (played and killed off, manipulated/used and needing to be rescued). Furthermore, it makes a lot of sense that, given that this is all Elias-Jonah’s chessboard, he would favour men in general (Victorian asshole who was mostly acquainted with men, if his correspondence is any hint).

At the same time it’s a bit obvious that Annabelle has been more active than she took credit for so far, and has her own plans (why did she so actively help Jonah bring the apocalypse, and why was it necessary for Jon to stay away from Hill Top Road?); plus, Helen is still around, Jonah indirectly pointed out that he can’t see in her corridors; Georgie can’t feel fear, and Melanie might get some immunity (at least from Beholding), so all of them have reasons to get exceedingly relevant in season 5 (if one power gets to “win” in season 5, it’s easy to bank on the Mother of Puppets). So. I didn’t feel like season 4 was super-satisfying in that regard, but also, there is a season 5, and there are enough open doors to think that, when the series will get concluded, it won’t be a gentlemen’s club moving the main plot forwards. So, I’m curious about how season 5 will unfold in that regard.

Fav episodes this season were:

- MAG127, “Remains To Be Seen”: I loved the “voice” of Jonathan Fanshawe, and how delightful it was to hear someone tell Jonah Magnus to fork off? Plus, we got the continuation of Albrecht’s story and his demise a few years after his letter from MAG023; the whole atmosphere was… very eerie and dusty?; I feel like Jon’s description of his “door” (and the “I drown.”) was one of the most striking pictures this season; and it also marked the return of Elias. Jinglebells!Elias, letting us to know that he spends his time gesturing when he talks.

- MAG129, “Submerged”: “When would you start to worry about the rain?” gODS. Very good atmosphere in that one, too, and Jon&Martin’s exchange at the beginning of the episode made us scream so loudly (“iS MARTIN OKAY, LISTEN, HIS VOICE WAS SO OFF, WHAT IS HAPPENING–” “Actually, Alex had the flu” “oh”)

- MAG132, “Entombed”: Resolution of the Saving Daisy mini-arc, and the pay-off was delightful!! Big “OH” moment when it was revealed why Daisy had asked about Jon’s shirt in season 3! Daisy not being a wild monster inside of the Coffin, as we feared, but able to be… herself and expose her doubts and what she didn’t want to be anymore… (Plus, I really felt that indeed, Jon&Daisy had shared something in the Coffin? I loved that small fragile bond that was created out of almost nothing, it felt very genuine and beautiful ;_;)

- MAG145, “Infectious Doubts”: Arthur Nolan’s VA was fantastic, and the exemplification of how Gertrude interacted with avatars was… something, alright. Indeed, one could understand how she managed to live as long as she did. And their discussion about Agnes and the fact that neither of them really knew her keeps breaking my heard for Agnes ;_; (Still crossing fingers that we’re able to hear her in some form in season 5? Given the whole, constant thing about how we only “know” her through male characters and/or people romantically or sexually interested in her…)

- MAG151, “Big Picture”: Simon Fairchild, okay. And Martin having had Enough. Plus, obviously, the… not exactly “answers”, indeed, but the way Simon tried to explain how to look at things and concepts without freezing them into concrete like Robert Smirke had done (given that Martin was the one to be given that talk, I’m really curious about whether he will put this to use in season 5); the shade-throwing about Peter; the reveal that Jon had listened to Martin’s tapes, which was also a “!!” moment.

- MAG157, “Rotten Core”: Tfw you’re The Corruption in season 4 and you don’t get a dedicated statement until near the end of it, but when you do, there is another one shortly afterwards, and it’s. This. About Adelard’s end. It was a very gruesome one, but also so… just plain sad? When it comes to Adelard, still managing to shape him as a character with a mind of steel, with his ultimate resolve and last words. I really came out of it wondering what Gertrude had felt when receiving it, because it… indeed felt like the end of an era/a long-distance partnership. (Also, THE RETURN OF THE ADMIRAL!!! Kitty cuddles and purring!!)

- MAG158, “Panopticon”: Still so impressed that so much had been crammed into this episode, with so many different tones, and with the sense of urgency going crescendo. Plus, you know, big reveals about Gertrude’s death, Elias’s identity, what was Peter and Elias’s deal, and finally, what was hidden in the tunnels.

Things to *squint* about in season 5, or overall questions/pondering:

- … The name of the show still works as of now, though it’s almost “Magnus’s Archive(s)” as things are right now. I suppose that characters will go back to the Institute at some point (if only to reach the Panopticon for some reason), I wonder how long it will take?

- How will the “one episode = one statement” thing fare in season 5…? I kind of hope it’s not a succession of Jon narrating/describing people’s gruesome demises, or live-statements which would make things (SOMEHOW) even worse for them. Technically, Jon had received statements and tapes, so we could explore those first… if he’s in any state to. (Obligatory: will we begin the season with “Recording by The Archive”? Or by Martin, searching for Jon, to reverse the end of season 4?)

- Who is listening through the tapes and why are they manifesting. (I was banking on Web at the end of season 3, nowadays I’m not so sure given how it’s been using them physically, a bit too blatantly.)

- What are the tapes Jon received in MAG160 about…? And were they sent by The Web? Is there another Gertrude tape amongst them? (A message about her “retirement plan”? The “little chat” Gertrude had mentioned in MAG158, which happened after Jonah had taken Elias as a new host and when she realised what was happening? An Adelard-Gertrude conversation if they manage to find The Perfect VA for Adelard? … A Jon-Gertrude conversation for when he began to work at the Institute? Jon had recalled that he had talked with her once or twice – what if it had been recorded because Jon was already relevant for whatever-is-listening-through-the-tapes…?)

- WHAT DOES THE WEB WANT / WHAT DID IT WANT AND GET

- Hey Jon, how is your lighter today (and how many cigarettes have you smoked recently)?

- Hill Top Road trip 2.0, and what the “scar in reality” means (and why Annabelle didn’t want Jon to get involved there… as of season 4, at any rate)

- I remembered about Anya Villette’s statement recently, and namely that bit:

(MAG114, Anya Villette) “I don’t know this place. They said I should come and talk to you. A few people did. People I thought I knew, but they were different. I should know this place, I think. I used to go to the Tate a lot when I lived in London, and I, I passed the building, but… I don’t know you people. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

For me, her statement was clearly Spiral, but the implication of the Institute not being there did grab my interest, because see: Robert Smirke died earlier in the Magnusverse than in our real world – Martin pointed out that he had died the day he had written MAG138’s letter, on February 13th 1867, while the historical Robert Smirke died on April 18th 1867. The difference being that, in the Magnusverse, it was implied that Jonah’s experiments and preparations of The Watcher’s Crown had directly caused Smirke’s death; the Watcher’s Crown attempt which resulted in the sinking of Millbank, and the establishment of the Institute to hide the Panopticon. The main difference between a world “without the Magnus Institute in London” and a world with it was… Jonah’s ritual attempt. It wonder if this is where two realities may have shifted and diverged, in the Magnusverse? We still don’t know much about this “scar in reality” lying at Hill Top Road, and why it’s hidden, or what it could cause…

- Given how Peter wasn’t sure why The Web had never tried to push for its own ritual, was it because the Mother knew that it would fail anyway? Was is something well-known amongst Web agents that it was All or Nothing, or was Jonah a pioneer in that area, and Annabelle (?) decided to lend him her support?

- … Or maybe not at all: I’m curious about other avatars’ stance on/in the new world, if there will be divergences, if most will embrace it, it if it will cause dissatisfaction because they’re not needed as vessels to feed their patrons anymore? Having the time of their lives, or dissatisfied/now useless when it comes to feeding the Fears?

- Elias hinted that Gertrude might have had a backup plan to stop The Dark, if it had turned out that their ritual could succeed – could that help with the whole apocalypse? I’m… not really convinced that the apocalypse can be undone or tuned down, and it’s likely that season 5 ends even more badly than season 4, but we shall see… Reminder that:

(MAG126) ARCHIVIST: … I remembered Gertrude’s notebook; we found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… [SIGH] saving the world at the cost of two lives… It… it’s borderline incomprehensible, not because of any code, or cypher – there’s every chance I could read those; just simply because… most of it is… numbers or fragments of sentences that would no doubt mean something to her, but… well, not to me. I have been staring at it for hours, in the hope something from it would just… come to me.

Jon hadn’t managed to decipher her notebook as of season 4, I wonder if it could get relevant again.

- How many episodes before we hear Elias again.

- I’m not sure how Elias is supposed to get “on top” of this, since Jon had been the one to “open the door” to the Fears? Why is Elias so confident that he will never die? Given how he had mentioned “an eternity of terror and suffering” for all at the beginning, I wonder if people might not become “immortal” in the new landscape – in the sense of not being able to die at all, of The End being a fear but also out of reach, putting people in a state worse than death? Still, curious about why Elias was so sure that he would get an edge and not share the same fate as everyone else, since I doubt the Fears could feel anything, to say nothing of gratefulness? So, what protection does he have?

- How will Elias die/be neutralised, and by whom or what? (I kind of randomly hope that Georgie will do something? I always found it a bit interesting that she was introduced as a talking character right after Elias had been revealed to be the villain… while Georgie is connected with The End and knows the words that killed her friend.)

- Will we learn a bit more about “Emma”, Gertrude’s third assistant named by Eric?

- Are we absolutely done with Agnes’s story, and/or is there a tiny chance that we could hear her voice in some way…?

- What happened with Salesa, and what was the broken lens he retrieved supposed to do?

- Was Eduardo Acosta’s statement relevant, for Tim to interrupt Martin in MAG104.

- Will Jon’s two missing ribs become relevant again? Did Jon leave his rib at the Institute, or did he take it with him in Scotland? (Jon, putting it on the fireplace lintel as soon as he unpacked–)

- There is still the matter of Extinction and whether it was a partial bust (that is now irrelevant) or if it will come into play after all; perhaps we’ll meet or witness the creation of one of its first avatars or something. (Honestly, I was beginning to wonder if Gertrude hadn’t been one for the Fears, given how she had pointed out that she was Desolation To The Desolation…)

- Martin spent a lot of time studying the Fears in season 4, to the point that he received Simon’s guidance about how to perceive them… so I wonder if that will be relevant, too, since he wasn’t able to use that knowledge at all in the season finale. It really felt like he was growing as a main character, until he was cast into The Lonely and took a backseat so… I’m expecting for it to come into fruition? Jon had the rigid knowledge of the Fears, and the knowledge given by Beholding, but Martin was taught to get the feeling of them, and it might be more efficient now that they’re here?

- How will the connection between Martin and The Lonely manifest? Martin had to suffer Peter’s influence for almost a year, has been shown to be able to use powers in front of Georgie, and still wanted to isolate himself a bit in MAG160, so I doubt that The Lonely will let him go this easily.

- Will Martin’s studies over the entities help in some way? Will The Extinction (and other aspects of the Big Blob Of Terror that weren’t contained in Jonah’s invocation) be relevant?

- Was MAG158 the “true end” of Daisy, and will it lead to her being absolutely unhinged and lost in season 5…? It felt like it when it happened, but the way Jon&Martin mentioned her in MAG160, it didn’t really feel like she was lost-lost – but that card has already been played with the Coffin…

- I found the season incredibly harsh on Basira overall: she tried to handle the situation while Martin was jumping ship and Melanie was getting more erratic; she got manipulated by Elias multiple times; she wasn’t even the one to rescue Daisy from the Coffin; she hadn’t noticed that Jon had been attacking people behind her back; she “lost” Daisy emotionally a bit further by initially refusing to respect her wish of not going back to The Hunt; she ultimately lost Daisy a second time… Except for punching Elias, she didn’t really get any “win”? I mean, everyone’s lives suck, but it feels that comparatively, Basira got the worst of it (Jon managed to save people, to elope with Martin; Melanie managed to flee from the Institute and has Georgie with her; Martin was finally found and cared for… but Basira?). I wonder how it will come out in season 5, and if she will manage to get… something. Anything. There were a few red threads (ha) thrown around with the fact that she was trying to track Annabelle, we’ll see if it leads somewhere… (If anyone was desperate for control, it was Basira in season 4…)

- On that note: is Basira still vitally “tied” to the Institute, even in this new world paradigm?

- I’m really curious about how Melanie will be handling things in season 5 and how she will fare in the new world, given how she cut herself off from Beholding, which is still supposed to be reigning a bit over the other Fears in this apocalypse. And she mentioned being “not scared anymore”, so…

- Same thing with Fear-less Georgie.

- I’m curious about Jon’s state at the beginning of season 5: absolutely collapsed on himself? Barely responsive? Already centred back while also still depressed? Already with a plan? Stuck for a while before Martin&him begin to move for one reason or another (trying to find Basira, Georgie, Melanie, or getting a clue regarding what to do?).

Bits about the trailer/teaser for season 5:

- I like how it was casually introduced that life in Scotland hadn’t been that idyllic, since they had run out of tea even before the apocalypse. Englishmen in Scotland, raiding the tiny village shop until it was out of tea. Amazing.

- … Martin still not getting Jon’s sense of humour with the “knock-knock” joke.

- And it meant A LOT that JON was WILLING to make a knock-knock joke, given his relationship to doors and especially Mr Spider’s!! ;w;

(- This is how Web!Martin can still win, given the parallel.)

- … Aouch for Martin suggesting coffee instead. Jon doesn’t drink much of it, according to season 2.

- Not!Tea is canonically ~something that isn’t tea~, and I’m… mostly D: about the fact that Martin was convinced that it was tea. He was thinking that he had brewed and prepared this thing – did he really? – and sounded absolutely certain that it was plain ordinary tea he was holding… so the world is really messing with people’s heads and perceptions, uh…

- And it makes me worried because anyone else wouldn’t have had Jon’s “advantage” of seeing through deceptions and fears, and warning someone about it. Quite honestly, I’m not really worried about Jon&Martin (bad stuff will happen to them, but we will hear their thoughts about it); my worry is mostly about regular people, because again, I don’t like random innocents being canon fodder around protagonists for the sake of their own progress or because of their actions. (And yes, I’m aware that s5 will probably be a lot of this, especially given the short comment about the village orz)

(- It’s possible that the village would be the theme of the first “statement” if Jon begins to narrate people’s fates, I guess…)

- Though at the same time. Jon didn’t sound afraid at the prospect of the not!tea potentially attacking Martin, which should have been a concern?

- Things are “unchanged” according to Jon, who isn’t sure that things can change again… and it’s aouch given his laments over things changing during all of season 4 (+ Martin “not big on change” according to Tim). Jon isn’t sure things can change again, I’m really not sure either, so… either they can’t, either they do, either people keep changing too…?

- Things have changed, and Elias was apparently kind of right that Jon… was made to live in/feed from this world.

- … The way Jon described the rolling wave of knowledge was directly echoing how he had portrayed his inner door in MAG127 so: now, the door has opened and the entire ocean is indeed out there, uh…

- But Jon is not “drowning”? We’re still following the same logic as at the end of season 4: that something feeling right doesn’t mean that it is right. It is actually a bit reassuring, since… Jon kept his morals? Is trying not to know, not to use his powers? Saying that he wished it didn’t feel right means a lot: that it does, but that he still would prefer otherwise. Jon is not a creature of pure instinct but someone able to decide what is right and wrong, still fighting against urges and new influences. That’s weirdly optimistic, in this situation?

- Jon was going for bitterness and “despair”, but it was also contradicted by what he was doing: if he had truly fallen into despair, he wouldn’t be this cautious about his powers and the knowledge, he might “stop feeling guilty” like Helen. He isn’t. He’s still holding on, which means that, indeed, there is still some hope or something to salvage – or at least, the idea of not making things worse.

- Same with his comment about the fact that “comfort” doesn’t exist anymore: he… immediately proved that, no, yes, it does, with the hug (?) he shared with Martin.

- Jon&Martin still together as of now (which, honestly, I wasn’t expecting! I was bracing myself for them to already be separated somehow), still in Scotland given their comments. Will they stay in the safehouse for a while, or will they quickly get on the move?

- Martin’s “You know I’m here for you” sounds to me like we’ll end up with a situation in which it isn’t the case anymore – because Martin would have to let Jon down, would be dead, or because Jon is not even there anymore.

- Tape recorders still around, we don’t know what they are, but they’re still listening in. Despite Jon’s claim that “it’s over”, it’s not and there are still Tales To Be Told, even after the end (?) of the world.

Anyway, expectations are overall “they’re going to die (or not even be granted that, and they’ll be condemned to an eternity of worse)”, but ;___; It feels weird to think that I’m already going to say goodbye to that bunch of idiots in 40 episodes ;_;

MAG161’s title is surprisingly a bit obtuse for me, and I wonder if it will still be possible to try to “guess” an entity through announced titles this season (now that all the Fears are there and acknowledged as part of a whole) – Buried stuff??? As a season opener, I would say, either Annabelle stuff, either Jon&Martin; Aaangst is a given; but after that…

#the magnus archives #tma season 4 #mag160 #long post/#... like v long even for my usual reviews >>#tma liveblog #tma spoilers #also contains a few bits about season 5's trailer teaser

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