#how is that letter staying stable despite not even being tied together

[energeticpoltergeist]

for once i draw something that isn't au related, but it's still bilingual Naesala propaganda this could also be considered in celebration of me beating Radiant Dawn yesterday, but this was drawn before that i just forgot to post it- just in case it isn't apparent, and since it is still unserious stuff, it's just the Ancient Tongue equivalent to the letter L he's holding

[bigfan-fanfic]

What does Slytherin bf end up doing during the war? What are his family's views? Does he talk to them at all?

What does he think about Umbridge?? And the DA? Does he go to the dep of mysteries with Harry and gang??

It’s an interesting question, and ultimately that’s up to the reader. But personally, I imagine that the Slytherin is a pureblood wizard with a mother who supported the Death Eaters during the war and a father who vehemently opposed them and is outspoken for the end of pureblood bigotry, the advancement of Squib rights, and is even seen as radical for his campaigning for inviting other magical races to share in governing the magical world, or at least having a representative of their own race in office.

Needless to say, their relationship became strained when they realized their youthful love faced irreconcilable differences, but by then they already had a son. While they both love their son, it becomes increasingly hard for the family to stay together when the mother continues to lobby against Muggles and advocate against everything the father stands for - not to mention the mother ends up being estranged from her son because, to her mind, the father is poisoning him with Mudblood rhetoric.

The father is often called a blood traitor, but due to his family’s influence and wealth, he’s able to get away with it and earn the sucking-up from polite society, unlike families like the Weasleys. The mother’s family had all their assets seized due to Death Eater ties, so she can only do her Dark work in secret and meet up with old friends like Lucius and Rookwood occasionally. Both of them had jobs at the Ministry - the father in the Department of Foreign Affairs and the mother on the Auror Oversight Committee, where she curtailed efforts to apprehend former Death Eaters.

Basically he comes to Hogwarts with relief to get away from a not-great home situation, and nobody knows what he’s going to be like. His parents split when he ends up in Slytherin and sends a letter home saying that the people mother told him to befriend weren’t nice at all and he doesn’t like how they treat others. An argument between the parents ensues and the family splits. He stays with his father during the summers or holidays when he isn’t out campaigning or working with foreign wizards.

Even his mother knew to stay away from Dolores Jane Umbridge, so the prefect is wary of her at the very least. Despite her being an utter horrible person, his mother has communicated with Umbridge to ensure her son was not a target, as his father became more and more outspoken about supporting Dumbledore. He was able to use this to fly under Umbridge’s radar even as he remained boyfriends with Fred Weasley, son of a known Dumbledore-sympathizer.

The foundation of the Inquisitorial Squad was the last straw to break his Slytherin sense of self-preservation and he threw himself into not only “abusing his position as prefect” to protect the younger students of all Houses, but to hex, jinx, and curse the members of the Organization with impunity - it was also his suggestion to teach Deletrius, the Eradication Charm, to erase evidence of spells that could be revealed by Priori Incantatem. 

He became the first Slytherin member of the DA, seeing it as his duty to lead the lights of House Slytherin against the Dark Arts. He convinced trustworthy younger and older students to join in - consequently, Slytherin House became a battleground of dueling in which members of the Inquisitorial squad were ambushed or assaulted by others in both Muggle and magical dueling, and no students reported any misconduct for fear of further retaliation.

When the DA was revealed, it was the neutral of Slytherin House that made the most noise. Seeing their friends and classmates so brutally punished by Umbridge, so convinced You-Know-Who was back - these children of the ambitious and determined House spoke up. They wrote their fathers, their mothers, their Ministry uncles and aunts, telling them they would not stand for this. They organized defiant shout-downs of Umbridge’s class and ensured that every family member who could do something heard about their hands getting sliced open and their rights being taken away. Wizarding society was given more awareness by these brave students, and it was an incredible time for Inter-House unity.

The prefect did in fact go to the Department of Mysteries in the midst of sitting his N.E.W.T. Exams - he was allowed to retake his Muggle Studies N.E.W.T. the next month. It was there that he saw his mother for the first time in four years - as a Death Eater on the opposing side. The prefect in fact struck her with a vicious Heat Charm cast on her Death Eater mask, badly burning her and incapacitating her for the Aurors to lock up. He stayed behind protecting the members of the DA who were injured or knocked out, his knowledge of Healing Charms keeping Hermione Granger stable and reviving Luna Lovegood from a concussion. It’s a hard moment, but he cut himself off from his mother’s side of the family permanently from then on, renouncing his ties to any who worked with Voldemort.

[lupins-sweater]

I’m Sorry

(Percy Weasley x Reader)

Summary: Percy wants to have a second chance after the war. Do you?

Warnings: verrrry angsty, first time writing angst, so it kinda sucks

I’m going to try something a little different and do some angst

You weren’t quite sure when he changed, but one day you looked up, and he was a completely different person. Sure he could be a little intense. But he wasn’t a prick. Once he finished prefect duty, he would bring you treats from the kitchen and a kiss goodnight. Sometimes you could even talk the avid rule follower to bend some rules because he wanted to make you happy. As simple as that. If you were caught out past curfew or skipping a class, Percy would let it slide (although you would get the “I love you, but there’s going to be a time when I can’t cover for you.”

You enjoyed gifting him the fanciest quills and the biggest pumpkin pasties every time he accomplished something. You were so proud of him; calling Percy Weasley your boyfriend gave you joy. Under that hard exterior was someone who was very loving and gentle. Or at least you thought.

After you had graduated Hogwarts, you and Percy moved into a small flat in Diagon Alley. Even though it was rather small, it was home to you. You quickly decorated the shared abode with squishy arm chairs and a couch. The flat was fairly clean and a wonderful home to transition from school.

Percy proposed not too long after the announcement of receiving the position at the Ministry. He claimed the money would help significantly with the wedding cost and maybe with starting a family. But you both weren’t expecting to bring children into your life for another couple of years; you agreed you were too young, and you wanted to focus on your careers first. You were training to become a healer, and Percy wanted a stable job that wasn’t an assistant.

At first you thought he was just tired or stressed from working with Crouch. I mean who wouldn’t, right? He would come home and not be in the mood to talk. Even on his days off, he was working on assignments and didn’t want to be disturbed. It was like he didn’t have time for cuddle night anymore. You hoped this was just a rough spot in your relationship; every couple goes through them. But as the bad days turned into bad weeks and into bad months, you grew out of sync with your partner. Every time you tried to discuss his sudden change of behavior, it was always, “ Not now, Y/N. I’m busy,” or “Maybe tomorrow.”

You turned to his family for guidance after a month and a half of being ignored. The twins said it was just normal Percy behavior. He probably was upset about cauldron thickness again. But Molly and Arthur could tell something was wrong. You briefly explained the situation, and they knew just as much as you did. Percy apparated to his childhood home after he noticed you weren’t at the flat, a scowl on his face. Anger brewed at the surface.

So here you were. At the burrow watching the fight between you fiancé and his father unfold. You stood behind the doorframe leading into the living room.

“Percy, what’s going on? Y/N came over here and told us you’ve been distant,” Arthur inquired, concerned for his son’s future marriage.

“Our relationship is none of your business!” Percy shouted.

Molly rushed into the room furious. “Don’t talk to your father like that! He’s trying to help you!”

“Well it doesn’t help he’s not the best role model.”

You entered the room with watery eyes. “Percy, please stop. I just want to know what’s bothering you.”

He looks at you and struggles to find the right words. “You know what’s wrong? The fact that I have to deal with a lousy reputation at the Ministry because my father’s strange obsession with muggles! I’m being poked fun at all the time! I’m told I’m just going to end up like you,” he pointed to Arthur. “A person with little to no ambition. You want to stay in your low paying job dealing with muggles. That’s the reason why we’re so poor! Don’t you feel feel awful that your children can’t afford robes for school?” Percy’s voice crescendoed into a scream. His words could be heard throughout the house.

You and your future parent in-laws stood there in shock. This wasn’t like Percy at all.

“How long? How long have you been feeling like this?” you asked barely above a whisper.

“I’ve been made fun of because I’m a Weasley in school, but I thought I would prove myself once I got out. But once I started working at the Ministry, I was met with the same comments I heard before I graduated. I don’t want my future family to have the same experience.”

“I- I’m sorry my job has affected you like that,” Arthur apologized, “I had no idea.”

Molly put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Percival Ignatius Weasley. You do NOT talk to your father that way. He has been working hard your entire life and longer to provide for this family! And he’s doing what he loves despite all the jeers he gets from his coworkers. I would say he’s ambitious.”

“It’s not just that, Mum. Crouch and others high up have been telling me Dumbledore is making up You-Know-Who is back to make the Ministry look bad. And you’ve been helping him spread this rumor! They’re starting to question my loyalty!” Percy was upset again.

“But they should listen to Dumbledore. Harry is warning us, and if we don’t do anything now, it will be too late. We can’t wait for the Ministry to sound the alarm after the death eaters start terrorizing again,” his father defended himself.

“We can’t ‘sound the alarms’ just because he believes every word Potter says! His claim is rubbish. There’s no evidence!”

“Why would they not believe Harry? He can hear Voldemort talking to him; he has visions, Perce,” you interjected.

He stormed over to you and grabbed your hand. Before he apparated you back to the flat, he turned to his parents and his face softened. “Please stop associating with Dumbledore. I can’t be around people who are against the Ministry.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Arthur said in an apologetic tone. He crosses his arms and shook his head.

“Fine.”

You made it home, Percy still holding your hand. The floorboards were more interesting than your teary eyes. You finally cleared your throat and tried to find a place to start. “I think...you were a little harsh on your father.” you said choosing your words carefully.

“But he’s put me through so much. I can’t take the way people judge me based on my father’s choices.”

“Perce, he hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s just the way people view muggles. They’re obsessed with how pure their blood is, and condemn Arthur for being passionate about non magical people just because he’s “pure blood.””

“But he could have chosen any other job! He could have been in a higher office, but he chose this!”

“I mean this in the beat way possible, so you can hopefully change your mindset. You’re being disgusting and selfish. It’s not like you to be concerned with someone’s blood status,” you put your hands on his arms and shook him lightly.

He scoffed and tore himself from your grasp. “Disgusting? Selfish? In the best way possible? If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you’ve been spending too much time with my parents. Oh. And why did you go to them and talk about our relationship?”

You flinched at the harshness in his voice. “I’m sorry. I should have used better words, but I hate thinking you dislike your father because some of your coworkers think they’re better than them. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told your parents about our problems, but I didn’t know who else to go to?”

Percy took off into the bedroom and paced in front of the bed. “Maybe your fiancé?”

You threw your arms up in frustration. “Percy, I tried! Every time I wanted to talk about what’s bothering you, you always brushed me off. If you won’t talk about it, who will?”

“Do you really believe in what Dumbledore is saying? About You-Know-Who?” He asks, changing the subject.

“Of course. Why would he try to make the Ministry look bad?”

Percy pulled a trunk out from the closet and started to fill it with clothes. “Percy! Wh-what are doing?”

“I can’t let anyone know my fiancée supports Dumbledore. I think we need a break.”

A sob escaped your lips as you realised he was leaving you. “Please. Can I do anything to make you stay? I don’t want you to leave,” you begged.

He locked the trunk and walked toward the door. Percy stopped in front of you with a pained look on his face. His voice sounded like he was trying not to cry, “Come find me when you’ve stopped being around Dumbledore’s supporters. They’re bad influences.” And he left.

——

You couldn’t afford the rent of the small flat, so you sent a letter to the Weasleys asking for a place to stay. They kindly let you take Percy’s old room where you spent most of your nights crying. Wondering why your fiancé left you. Wasn’t he the guy all those years ago who helped carry your books to class? Didn’t he get down on one knee and promise he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you? It didn’t make sense why he would sever his ties with his family.

Molly tried to go talk some sense into him and tell him you missed him, but he shut the door as soon as she opened her mouth to speak. Not long after that his Christmas sweaters arrived by owl without a letter explaining why he sent them back.

Everyone was upset by his actions. You constantly had to reassure his parents it wasn’t their fault. Arthur’s job isn’t something he should be ashamed of; pure blood families are obsessed with their status, and will bully everyone who doesn’t share the same values and beliefs. Molly didn’t do anything wrong; she was standing up for her husband which she’s done hundreds of times. The red head family also helped you process your break in the relationship. They were always there to distract yourself or give you much needed advice.

The days blurred together as you started to work long shifts at St. Mungo’s as a healer, finally completing your training. A lot happened in the following months: Hogwarts was back in session, Arthur was injured, the war was about to start, and you and Ron received letters from Percy. Nothing good came from the neat scrawl on the fancy parchment. Ron was told to stop hanging out with Harry as “he’s a bad influence,” and your engagement was called off since it’s been months since you’ve talked.

You agreed with him on that point. What’s the use of being engaged to a man that doesn’t want to be associated with your views? You distracted yourself from the pain by preparing for the battle at Hogwarts with The Order. You taught everyone basic healing spells and what to do in certain medical emergencies.

——

The night before the battle you were sitting on your bed, knees pulled into your chest, as you contemplated the danger of what’s to come. You couldn’t sleep, too anxious for tomorrow. Everyone went to their rooms for the night no doubt in the same position you were in. A knock at the window startled you. You whipped your head to see a large owl holding a letter addressed to you in its claws.

You got up from you bed and open the window. You recognised the neat, loopy writing immediately. Percy. You didn’t exactly want to read what was inside; he already said he didn’t want to marry you anymore. What else does he want to tell you?

You reluctantly tore the letter open and began to read.

Y/N,

I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you. I shouldn’t have left you because those at the Ministry wouldn’t approve of your views. It was wrong of me to let my coworkers cloud my views of my family, the love of my life, and my father. Although it’s not an excuse for my behavior, I snapped after hearing people talk poorly of my loved ones constantly at school and work. I can’t believe I let it get the better of me. I plan to talk to my family tomorrow before the war. I want to talk to them before anything happens. I don’t know what I’ll do if I won’t get to fight by their side. Merlin, Y/N, I still love you. I miss you so much, and I know I’ve hurt you. If you’d like, here’s the address to come see me. It’s understandable if you don’t want to.

Sincerely and with love, Percy

You read the letter over and over not quite sure if you were happy or not. He’s said some awful things to you and his family, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to forget that. And he still loved you. Gosh you loved him too, but you didn’t want to become engaged again. You still had a lot to think about.

You decided you were going to see him after all. Who knows, this could be your last night alive. You wrote a quick note to the Weasleys explaining where you were going and left the letter there for them to read.

——

The flat in London was fairly nice. It no doubt cost a pretty galleon. You walked up the steps to the brass knocker on the door that read “112 A” and knocked. The door opened less than a minute later, and a shocked red head stood before you.

“Y/N. You actually showed up,” he breathed and motioned for you to enter the flat. 

You stepped through the doorway to find a well lit apartment; beautiful yet simple furniture was placed throughout the room. 

“Looks nice in here,” you complimented, not sure where to start.  

“Thanks. It’s not the homely as our home on Diagon Alley.” He cleared his throat. “I heard you’re living with the rest of my family. At the Burrow I mean.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t keep up with the rent.”

Percy looked at you with a look that showed he felt awful for letting that happen. 

“I understand why you felt like you had to prove you were loyal to the Ministry, but cutting off your family? Calling off your engagement?! Percy I loved you!” You were now sobbing in front of the man who was your fiance. He really wants to pull you in for a hug, but he knew you were furious. 

“I loved you, too. It was wrong and disgusting of me to disown my family. I still love you. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, that’s fine.”

You wiped your tears and waited until you could speak again without sobbing again. “I want to be with you again, too. But I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, Perce. It’s been months since we’ve spoken. And you said some pretty awful things.”

Percy looked away and tried not to cry. He messed up big time, and there’s nothing he can do to reverse the damage. 

“I know,” he whispered. 

“I’m going to need time to rethink everything.”

He nodded as a response, looking down at his feet. You walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. 

“Can you please stay the night? I just need someone to hold before tomorrow.”

You nodded a yes as you wished for the same thing. You needed comfort, and this took you back to a time where all you had to worry about was a potions test. Who knew what tomorrow could bring?

[chocolatemin]

word count: 7k

contains: fluff, angst, mentions of death, fantasy, historical au

note: i took so long in this one as the story line kind of changed over time, let’s just say that the change was for the better and that i stopped listening to cardigan halfway… anyway, enjoy! 

Whenever someone dies, a new star is born and that’s because their souls vanish off to the galaxy. 

“Long ago, there weren’t as many stars as we have to the present day. The human population is still small, therefore there are only a few stars up in the sky, until the Great War came, many soldiers died during the day and when the night fell upon it was the first time people saw the skies filled with stars.”

That’s what your grandmother told you.

You reminisce about your moments with your grandmother as you gaze upon the night sky, searching for the stars. It is a cloudy night so you are having quite a hard time finding your grandmother’s star. You inhale the earthly scent of the grass you are currently sitting on; finding solace amidst the darkness isn’t new for you as it has been your routine every night– except for rainy days, you really won’t find any star during those days.

“I told you not to stay too long outside alone at night.” You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and saw your brother with his arms crossed over his chest standing near the fence. 

“Oh, sorry, the sky is not that clear tonight so I took longer than usual.” You say as you stand up from your seat, dusting off your clothes before walking up to him. He shakes his head at you before offering his hand to help you cross over the fence.

“Let’s go home. It’s getting late.” You nod and follow along with him to your way home.

“Thank you, Chan.” You feel thankful having him as your brother, he never gets mad at you and he always tries his best to understand and support you. 

“For what?” He turns to you confused.

“For being the best brother.” You said grinning at him widely and he just laughs at you. 

The sun is shining brightly and you decided that it is a good time to trim the plants in front of your house. You are trimming the leaves of your flowers when you are interrupted by a cough followed by a sweet voice of a young man.

“A pleasant day to you, Mademoiselle, may I ask if Sir Chris lives in this area?” You spun your heels around and met with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. And to be honest, you do not trust the man in front of you despite his calm aura. Who knows the evil behind that mask?

“Yes, Sir…” You trailed off.

“Seungmin Kim, please call me Seungmin.” 

“Yes, Sir Seungmin, do you have any business with him?” You asked, you can’t let that charming smile fool you; you’ve met enough of those people.

“Please drop the formality, I am not that old yet. And yes, I’ve heard that he plays instruments during occasions, my parents would like to invite him to play at my brother’s wedding.” He handed you a rolled up letter and tied using a light blue ribbon. The moment your fingers brushed against his, your vision turned white and a scene flashes in front of your eyes, sending chills and goosebumps all over your body. You immediately pull your hand back, grabbing the letter carefully and your vision returns.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll give this to him as soon as he returns.” You gave him a faint smile, trying to hide the fear and shock whilst he looks confused by your actions. 

“Alright, see you. Have a nice day.” With that, he quickly leaves, heading west, leaving you dumbfounded, still shocked.

You sighed. You’ve seen it again, that is why you absolutely loathed interactions with strangers. 

Seungmin, on the other side regrets not asking your name nor your relation with Chan. He shook his head, knowing fully that his parents will scold him later, they’ll think that he gave it to the wrong person. However, he immediately shut his longing for your name with the thought that it wouldn’t matter if he knows your name or not because he won’t be able to see you again anyway.

The moment Chan arrives at your home, he is welcomed by a suspicious glare from you, with your arms crossed over your chest, sitting on the couch. Chan was surprised by you.

“Thank goodness you’re home, Chris.” You see him flinch at the name you called him, “I didn’t know I have a brother named Chris who plays instruments during special occasions.”

You are not mad, you just thought of this wonderful confrontation with your brother so that you can tease him. To be honest, you are proud of him. If he isn’t that good at playing instruments, no one will try to invite him to play, especially at a wedding, where everything about it would be the talk of the town for a long time. You enjoyed seeing his flustered reaction, as if he got caught picking your flowers. You almost laughed but you bit your lip to prevent the laugher slip out.

“Let me explain,” Chan sighed, “where did you get that information– no, it doesn’t matter, I, uh… Why are you doing this to me?” Chan fake cries, having his other hand on his chest while the other wipes off his invisible tears. You erupted in a fit of laughter, your brother looks really amusing.

“But, why didn’t you tell me about this?” You stand up from your seat, heading to the kitchen. 

“You see… I don’t really have a stable job, I do what I think I can to earn a living for the us.” Chan sat on one of the chairs on the dining table, his hands placed together on the top of the table. You went over to him and placed your hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to overwork yourself, I am here to help you earn for the both of us. You know I work part time at Changbin’s bakehouse and at times I work at the palace whenever they need extra laundress. Is that not enough?” Your eyes soften as you feel your heart ache from the newfound information. 

“Wait, I remembered something,” you straighten up your body and head to the living room, picking up the letter on the table across the fireplace, “Here’s an invitation for you.” You handed him the letter.

“A wedding?” Chan asks as his eyes skimmed through the content of the letter.

“They want you to sing for them.” You replied shortly.

“Lee Minho? The businessman?” Chan looks at you, confused.

“Aren’t they.. kind of.. wealthy?” You ask, you don’t really know them, but they are known for having fields and cows, having a large stall at the market. Chan nodded to your question and you brought up another question out of curiosity, “What does the letter say?”

“I will be playing two songs and woah- xx pounds?” Chan’s eyes widen and so do your eyes, “Wow, that’s a lot.” 

“So, when is the wedding taking place?” You ask, pursing your lips. 

“Tomorrow.” Chan looks at you, “Are you gonna come?”

“I don’t think I’m invited, besides, Changbin asked for assistance, we have to deliver a bunch of pastries tomorrow.” You turn your back to get two plates and utensils, placing them on the table while Chan placed the dinner on the middle of the table.

“Oh, alright.”

“Shall we eat now?” You ask as you take a seat across your brother, you look up to him and see him flash a smile.

“Of course.”

“Chan, I’m leaving!” You shout from the doorstep, slipping on your boots, ready to leave for your work.

“This early?” Chan shouted from his room.

“I’m helping Changbin bake!” You turned the knob and opened the door, “See you later!”

You arrived at Chanbin’s bakehouse slightly earlier than you agreed to so upon knocking on the door, you were greeted by him with his bedhead, “Morning, Changbin.”

“It’s literally 6 am, I thought 7 am was clear?” Changbin glares at you before stepping aside so you can get inside.

“Oops, I forgot~” You pull the sleeves of your working clothes up and fix your hair before stepping into the kitchen, trailing behind Changbin’s back, “Hey, I think you should get your sleep back and I will start preparing all the things we need for baking today. If I finish that early, I will start right away.” You turn to face him.

“Nah, it’s better to start early so that we can deliver the pastries early too. And after, I’ll drop you off to your home and you may take the day off.” Changbin waves his hand before carrying the sack of flour near the table, “I’ll take charge of the bread and kneading, you can  make the mini pies and the cake batter.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You ask as you carefully take the baking equipment from the cupboard, placing it on the working area.

“Then what are these muscles for?” Changbin raises his brow, patting his toned and muscular biceps.

“Ego boost, I must say.” You deadpanned as soon as you dropped the ingredients you took from the shelves on the table, earning another glare from Changbin.

“Sure, whatever. Just make the pastries and the rest are on me.” Changbin shook his head in defeat causing you to chuckle. 

The both of you are too focused on your tasks that you didn’t notice the time passing, you exchanged short conversations to avoid the atmosphere turning dull as you both work. While preparing another set of mini fruit pie, you realize that you don’t really know what occasion you are making these pastries for. 

“Changbin,” you muttered softly in which Changbin hummed in response, “I realized that you’ve never told me what these pastries are for.”

“Oh, yeah, these are for the wedding later.” He says as he takes out another set of bread from the oven. 

“Who was it again? Min- Minho’s wedding?” You ask, quite unsure.

“Yeah, it is a bit odd that the wedding will take place in the late afternoon,” Changbin pauses, “I mean, most wedding ceremonies take place around mid afternoon and celebration in the evening.” 

“So, how much time do we have left?” You ask, not sparing a glance to him, concentrating on the cake frosting. 

“We’ve still got plenty of that.”

The moment you arrive at the hall, you are welcomed by the scent of fresh flowers but it is immediately replaced by the smell of pastries and bread you and Changbin baked. Getting off the carriage first, you carefully helped Changbin carry every serving cart that contains the pastries you baked and took out the four-layered cake last. A familiar face walked towards your direction with long strides, causing you to be flustered. He looks heavenly despite the formed sweat on his forehead and his wrinkled brows.

“You just arrived exactly at the time, let me help you bring these inside.” The young lad grabbed on one of the serving carts, accommodating you and Changbin inside the hall, each pushing a serving cart.

“You are Seungmin, right?” You try to strike a conversation, disliking the awkwardness surrounding the three of you.

“I’m surprised you remembered my name.” Seungmin glanced towards you but still kept his straight face.

“Well, you are quite the straightforward.” But that’s not the truth, of course, you remember him, after seeing that vision of yours, how can you forget him?

“I was in a hurry.” Seungmin timidly replies and you did not bother to ask anymore questions sensing that he must be already exhausted and stressed about the wedding.

Seungmin helped you take all the pastries inside the hall but you and Changbin told him that he can rest for a bit or work on something else since the two of you will be arranging the pastries according to a design. You saw that a three tier, large circular ceramic pastry stand is prepared on the table. Without further ado, you and Changbin started placing the mini fruit pies carefully in an assorted manner but in an enticing pattern. Another pastry stand is prepared for the bread and a white elegant cake stand with dangling crystals. You carefully placed the cake, not wanting to destroy it and which you successfully did, and the two of you high fived each other, giving a thumbs up for accomplishing the work.

“Oh! What a lovely cake!” You hear a high-pitched voice of an old woman, you immediately shoot your head towards her, you are guessing she is already in her late forties but her beauty is truly undeniable.

“Thank you, Madame.” You bow courtly as a sign of respect and accepting her compliment, “we just finished and we are on our way to leave.”

“I think I forgot to tell you two that you are invited to the wedding.” Mrs. Lee spoke in a soft tone, “Why don’t you wait at the chambers?”

Changbin spoke, “Thank you for the offer, Madame, but we still have to bring back the equipment, we will just return later, and make ourselves presentable too,” flashing a smile.

“Oh, alright. I’ll be waiting for you two.” Mrs. Lee smiles in return before leaving you and Changbin.

“You know what? We should hurry.”

By the time you make it to the wedding, the hall is already filled with guests and their relatives. It is a bit crowded but not to the point that it is suffocating.

“Fancy seeing you here, huh.” You turn to see Chan dressed in semi-formal clothes and you are not used to seeing Chan looking all good. He has his hair fixed, not a single strand is sticking out and he has the first button of his shirt open. Wow, is this really my brother?

“I thought you won’t come?” Chan asks.

“Mrs. Lee invited us last minute.” Changbin replies to Chan as they do their “friendship” greeting gesture.

“Do you have seats?” Chan raised his brow, causing you and Changbin to throw a glance to each other, basing off to the empty response, Chan spoke, “There are still available seats on my table, come.”

You follow Chan pass through the crowd, heading to a table quite near the orchestra.

The wedding is very simple but heartwarming and it is the time for everyone to dance while Chan is playing the piano, Changbin went over to a lady across your table to ask her to dance with him, leaving you alone at the table so you signalled Chan that you will be heading to the garden for a bit.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone at night?” Your ears perk up at the familiar voice but you don’t move. Instead you heave a sigh and look up to the night sky.

“I think it ’s better than sitting alone at the table.” You hear the footsteps stop beside you, and you finally glance at him, “What are you doing here?”

“I really should be the one asking you that but fine,” Seungmin shakes his head, “I was just thinking of something.”

“Do you want to share what’s bothering you?” You don’t know why you are concerned and you hope that your question will not make him uncomfortable.

“Maybe telling a complete stranger wouldn’t be so bad, eh?” Seungmin turns his head to look at you, chuckling, and you find his question quite funny but not offensive.

“That’s not true.” You shake your head, “You probably know my name by now, and I already know yours.”

“Alright.” Seungmin chuckles to himself but it is cut short by a scoff, “You see, my brother just got wedded to his long-time lover, but…” He takes a pause, making you look at him, “they will soon marry me off to someone.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t like the sound of it, I’m still young and I want to be free. I want to explore the world.” You can’t help but feel bad for him, he must not want to get married and tied up to someone he barely knows. Seungmin diverts his eyes from the sky to you and catches you staring at him but you nod, telling him that you understand his feelings.

“It’s just unfair…” Seungmin looks down, sliding his hands to his pocket as he kicks a stone.

“Can I ask you something? Promise me you won’t get offended.” You moved closer to him.

“Go ahead.”

“Are you perhaps from a different family?” You try not to sound very rude.

“What do you mean by different family?”

“Aren’t you a legitimate child of them?” You catch Seungmin hitch a breath from your peripheral vision.

“How did you know about that?” Seungmin steps in front of you, a stern look on his face gave you chills. You didn’t mean to offend him.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that, y-you introduced yourself as a Kim instead of Lee…” You try to look away so you just stare at your feet.

“You are really different from everyone.” You cannot read his expression from the tone of his voice.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, but you have to tell me who you really are.” Seungmin places his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t think this is the right time.” You try to reason out, “it will just give you a headache, I swear.”

Before he could speak, a voice interrupted the two of you, “I was looking for you!” You look over and see Chan waving his hand, the moon illuminating him so you can see his hand waving to you. “What are you doing outside?”

“I think, I should leave now,” You dusted off your clothes, “but I promise to tell you the next time we see each other.” Without sparing a glance to the young lad, you head to Chan, giving your brother an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, I was getting bored seeing people dance, but I didn’t know you could play something cool like that!” You smack his arms while you walk back inside the hall.

Since that encounter, your words haven’t left Seungmin’s mind. He is frustrated. He needs an answer, he can feel that you are hiding a lot of things you know about him, from him. How come it is possible for you to know a lot despite meeting only twice? He can still remember the surprised look on your face on your first meeting. As if you had seen a ghost.

“The Feys do exist, they are scattered all around the world, but there are only a few of them.” Seungmin’s grandmother spoke softly, sitting comfortably on her rocking chair, holding Seungmin’s hand.

“Do you know someone, Nana?” Seungmin asked, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, his grandmother couldn’t blame him though, he was only ten– full of youth, energy, and curiosity.

“Your grandfather was.” Seungmin’s grandmother stared at the sun setting oh so slowly, “They do not harm anyone, but people are afraid of them,”

“But why are you not afraid of Grandpa?”

“He was the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He was gentle and he has a pure heart. I wasn’t scared the time he told me,” Seungmin’s grandmother paused, “but I was scared for him, I know it hurt him seeing his loved ones�� deaths.”

“But how do they do it?” Seungmin seemed like he would never run out of questions sooner. He was very eager to know more about his grandfather.

“The first time we met, we bumped into each other and I remember him passing out right there at the town square, so I brought him home, and the moment he woke up, he had a shocked look on his face and his hands were shaking. I asked him what was wrong but he said he has to go somewhere else and quickly left.”

“That is embarrassing…” Seungmin chuckled imagining the look on his grandfather’s face, he must have looked really weird in front of his grandmother.

“The visions happen in a matter of seconds, but to them, it’s like the time stopped for a moment.” Seungmin’s grandmother gently ruffled Seungmin’s dark locks.

“And oh, my dear, they can only see visions upon having physical contact with that person.”

Seungmin wondered why his memory with her grandmother suddenly replayed in his head. However his mind was too preoccupied by the thoughts and questions for you. It has been exactly a bothersome three months since he last saw you that night, during his step-brother’s wedding. His mind was filled with the thought of you during that three months, he was always reminded at night, how breathtaking you were as the moon shone brightly on the two of you, it felt like that moment was made only for him to see. But he shook the thought every time.

His mind was an utter mess.

As Seungmin wandered around the town plaza, his sight caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting on the grass field, it was already dark so he couldn’t see properly. He didn’t know why, but his heart started to beat faster as he neared the fence.

“Sorry to interrupt you, but why are you alone here?” Seungmin’s voice resonates loudly in the midst of the quiet night but gained no response. Before he could think, his body was moving on its own– he jumped over the fence and walked towards the silhouette.

“Aren’t you afraid of being alone? Besides it’s already dark.” Seungmin asks calmly.

The moment you heard Seungmin’s loud voice from behind, you immediately freeze in your spot. To be honest, you were avoiding him. You never left your house except going to the bakehouse, skipped the stargazing, you didn’t go to the market, even deliver pastries when Changbin asked you to, and you admit, it was stubborn, but you really couldn’t risk seeing him again. You are too afraid of what might happen next. It is the first time you left your house for a long time since the wedding, and here you are, caught red-handed.

You hear his footsteps stop but you can’t look up to him, instead you lower your head down, “I don’t mind.”

“I-It’s you–”

Yes. And you promised to tell him the next time you meet.

“Would you like to keep me a company then?” You turn around to look at him, he is still as handsome as ever, but you notice that he has his hair styled up, and you thought he couldn’t get anymore gorgeous but you are wrong. You hope that he wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up your cheeks so you quickly turned your head away from him.

“What are you doing here alone?” Seungmin plopped himself about a ruler beside you, his legs in front of his chest while he placed his hand beside him to support his body

“I am finding my grandmother.” You faintly smile as you look up to the vast night sky causing Seungmin to find whatever you are talking about.

“What do you mean?” He tried squinting at the night sky but he still couldn’t understand you.

“Didn’t you know that whenever a person dies, a star is born?” You glance at him and you swear he gets more gorgeous every time you look at him.

“Where did that come from?” It is Seungmin’s turn to look at you and gaze with you for a while before you break it as you pointed at a bright star.

“See that star on the right side of the moon?”

“But there are so many stars.”

You quickly get up and sit closer to him, you feel him flinch as your arm brushes against his but you didn’t even budge and pointed again at the same star.

“That star, is my grandmother.” He could see the light smile forming on your face, “do you see it now?”

“Yes, but how did you know?” You return to your spot.

“I am not normal.” You are shocked that the words slip out from your mouth but you cannot lie, “it’s okay if you don’t believe me- I don’t expect but please never call me lunatic.”

“Can you tell me where my father is then?” You did not expect his answer but you see his serious face from your peripheral vision so you know you had to.

“Can you give me his name and date of passing?”

“Jiyoon, February twenty-sixth.” You can hear him sigh. “Should I tell you the year?”

“You don’t have to, I just need the month and day.” You close your eyes and you feel the night breeze blow against your bare skin, giving you light chills as you inhale deeply. You hear a ‘ding’ and you finally open your eyes.

Seungmin is shocked to see your eyes glowing amber and blinked a few times to see if it is just his mind playing tricks but your eyes are still glowing amber while you glance at the night sky in which he just assumes you’re locating his father.

Your eyes hastily searched for the star of Seungmin’s father until the familiar name caught your eye.

S-02J26Y

“I found him.” You turn your head to face him and Seungmin feels the goosebumps rise from his skin the way you looked at him, he finds it creepy yet you still look breathtaking despite your glowing eyes that soon returned to their normal color.

“Where?”

You point at the star beneath Regulus, “that’s him.”

What shocked Seungmin the most is that the moment he saw the star you are pointing at, he saw his favorite memory with his father flash before his eyes, his hands twitch beside him causing his back to collide with the ground.

“Oh my stars, are you okay?” You sat up from your spot and crouched beside him.

“Is it really like that?” Seungmin covered his eyes using the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to warn you.”

“That makes sense why you seem different from others, because you really are.” Seungmin removed his hand from his face and stared at you. There is a long silence as you look deeply into each other’s eyes and you feel more drawn to him.

“I think that’s enough for today. You should rest now. I’ll walk you home.” You stand up, offering your hand to him but he gets up on his own instead.

“No, I’ll walk you home.”

You hear a cough not too far from where the two of you stood and you immediately knew who it was.

“Chan.” you mutter under your breath.

The both of you turned your head at the same time.

“I don’t see the need to walk you home now.” Seungmin looks back to you.

“I have to go, but what about you?”

“Minho is waiting for me at the shop.”

“Alright, take care and head home safely.” You waved at him and he watched you jog up to the good-looking man standing behind the fence. Seungmin felt slight envy towards the man but he shook off the thought.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re meeting up with that guy?” Chan opens the door and steps aside, letting you in first.

“No, it just so happened that he saw me there.” You hear the doorknob softly click.

“But you were avoiding him, right?”

“Yeah…”

“I understand if you still don’t want to tell me why, just tell me whenever you are comfortable, a'ight?” Chan gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking past you.

The next day, as you are busy mixing all the ingredients, you hear the bell ring, a signal that someone entered the bakehouse so you quickly fixed your hair before heading to the counter.

“Seungmin?” Your mouth slightly falls agape as soon as you see the man.

“What are you doing here?” Seungmin tilts his head.

“I work here, have you forgotten?” You walk over to the counter, taking the list, ready to jot down his order, “What will you have?”

“Oh right, I almost forgot.” He looks like he was not really himself, “Mother asked me to get these.” Seungmin handed you a piece of paper containing a list of bread.

“Alright, give me a moment.” You held your hand up before turning your back to him. He watches you swiftly place all the bread on the list, and he would be lying if he says that his heart didn’t make tiny jumps. Even with your hair looking a bit messy, your apron and elbow smudged with flour and the tiny sweat that formed on your forehead, Seungmin cannot hide the fact that you still look pretty, even more captivating. You look different from that night, and he can’t help but imagine seeing you like that again this time as his spouse. Seungmin blushes at the thought, he never saw himself going this far over a girl he just met twice.

“All for a shilling.” You drop the basket on the top of the counter causing Seungmin to snap back to reality.

“How much is it again?” Seunin grabs ahold of his pouch.

“Twenty pence in total.” Seungmin clumsily grabs the coins from his pouch and hands you the coins.

“Are you perhaps free on Saturday?” You are taken aback by the sudden question but decided to play it cool.

“Why? Are you going to take me on a date?” You wink at him.

“Don’t let confidence get in your head, that’s not good for you.” Seungmin shakes his head but you laugh at his comment.

“Where are we meeting up then?” You are not afraid anymore, there is no point in hiding when he literally knows your house and where you work.

“The place where you stargaze.”

“See you.” He nods and you just smile in return as you watch him leave the bakehouse. Thank goodness. You sigh in relief.

Days after days, you keep seeing each other but he never visits your house. He always asks you to meet at the usual spot you’ve always sat on during the second time he met you. You definitely have gotten closer and a lot comfortable with each other but you are aware that if you keep meeting him, you’re going to catch feelings anytime soon which is not the best thing. You two would end up getting hurt, not because you are assuming things, but because it is bound to happen if you fail to control your feelings.

The future is up to you.

You are walking side by side with Seungmin as he walks you home but instead of enjoying the silence of the night, the both of you keep talking about the mystique of the world. It isn’t really the mystique you want to talk about but it is a way for you to keep talking. You craved to hear more of his voice and so does Seungmin. To him, your voice is like a sweet melody to his ears that lulls him to the hypnotic trance of your neverending symphony. You stop on your tracks as soon as you reach your house. However, you didn’t really feel like going inside, you fiddle on your fingers as you look down. There is something you want to say but you feel something caught up in your throat.

“Seungmin-”

“Y/N-”

You turn your heels to face Seungmin but instead you meet with his lips, capturing your own in a short moment of bliss. Your eyes widened and you quickly pulled away, flustered.

“Holy stars, I-I’m sorry.” You tilt your head and look over to the street. You prayed to the stars that Seungmin won’t notice the change of color of your face, “I should head inside now.”

“I was going to tell you that I wouldn’t be able to continue our nightly meet-ups til Saturday.” Seungmin says as if nothing happened. You feel your chest tighten.

“Important m-matters?” You trip on your own words and you mentally smack your forehead.

“We are going on a trip starting tomorrow.”

Great. You have all the time to recover from that.

“Uh, sure. Have a safe trip.” You try not to sound like you want him away from you.

“It won’t be for too long.” You place your hand over his shoulder, “It’s just a week and days pass by quickly, you won’t even notice that you’re about to go home.”

“I’ll miss you.” Seungmin whispers and your heart skips a beat. You got this. Just speak casually as if your lips didn’t accidentally ‘collide’ minutes ago.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Seungmin tries his best for the words not to slip out from his mouth, “I’ll get going now.”

You nod your head and smile.

“See you soon.”

Your days were spent feeling empty without Seungmin’s presence, but that didn’t help you at all to forget the kiss the night before he went on the trip. You didn’t have any contact at all. You spent your nights alone at the spot you usually sat on whenever you gaze at your grandmother’s beautiful star until one night. 

You are peacefully enjoying the quiet night, lying down on the grass when you feel your hands burning, a shiver ran down your spine along with the cold sweat slowly forming on your forehead. You feel your body unable to move. It’s happening. Someone is dying at this moment. You thought to yourself. Your heart started beating erratically, you feel the inside of your stomach twist and it’s getting hard for you to breathe. You gathered your strength, pushing yourself to stand up. Your knees are trembling and you feel like you were hit by a train. It took you minutes to take a step, followed by another until you are only about a meter away from the fence. You feel the veins on your head pulsating and you remember the latest vision you had.

Seungmin. 

You have to go to him. 

With all your strength you try to walk faster, not minding the feverish feeling of your body, burning hands and jiggling legs. It’s either you have to save him or you have to find Chan, but there’s no way Chan will be fetching you tonight. You see a silhouette of a man running towards you, you squint your eyes trying to figure out who it is. You hear the man shout but all you can hear is the pulsating of your head and erratic heartbeat. You are nearing the fence and the man’s figure is becoming more visible to you, but before you make it to the fence, the last thing you see is pitch black void and the yelling of your name.

Seungmin, on the other hand, just got back. On the way to his room, carrying his luggage, he stops on his tracks when his vision suddenly swirls. He feels his heart slowly picking up its pace and his mind suddenly flooded with memories of you. He feels dizzy and unstable but God knows all he cares for. He has to see you. And so he dropped his luggage, frantically sprinted outside despite his legs feeling clammy. Minho and his spouse are left dumbfounded at the living room. Seungmin didn’t know your location but he has one thing in his mind– the field. He ran all the way to the field as if his life depended upon it. He was already halfway through the field when he tripped, causing him to stumble on the ground. He groaned in pain but that didn’t stop him from making his way. As he neared the location, he saw a silhouette not so far from the fence. He yells your name despite the burning of his throat and throbbing pain in his body, but as soon as he reaches the fence his body collapses on the ground.

Seungmin jolts up from his position and observes his surroundings. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” He whips his head towards the voice and sees Minho seated not-so-comfortably on the couch.

“Where is Y/N? I have to see them.” Seungmin asks nervously.

“Huh? Y/N? Who is Y/N?” Minho furrows his brows and stands up from his seat, “Do you want to drink water first or are you going to eat?”

“The field, Y/N is there.” Seungmin doesn’t feel weak at all but his body isn’t just cooperating with him.

“I didn’t see anyone there. And why the hell are you running outside in the middle of the night?” Minho comes back carrying a tray in his hands, placing it on the top of the table near Seungmin’s bed, “Do you know how long have you been sleeping there? Five days.” 

“What?” Seungmin is surprised, “You must be joking.”

“Just eat your food. You must have hit your head really hard.” Minho shakes his head at the younger’s response.

“Yeah, thanks.” Seungmin is hurt, he tried his best to find you but what if it was just him hallucinating that night? What if you really weren’t there just like Minho said.

That night, Seungmin couldn’t sleep so he got up from his bed and slipped on a nice pair of clothes topped with a coat. He quietly heads out from his room and sneakily goes over to the front door, slipping on his boots. He steps outside and closes the door behind him without making any sound, making sure to lock it, he has the spare key in his pocket after all. He took his time walking and his feet brought him to your special place. His heart swells as soon as he crosses over the fence. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the stars but the moment he did, he saw a new star, near your grandmother’s and he couldn’t believe his sight. Flashes before his eyes is the night you kissed, which is his favorite memory with you and he felt a pang in his chest. His hands are shaking and tears are forming in his pretty eyes. He closes his eyes as the tears start making its way to his cheeks. It is a moment of silence and melancholy, his heart is swelling with regret and despair. The cold wind blew and he couldn’t feel anymore lonely. 

“There you are.” Seungmin wipes his tears before turning to the origin of the voice, and he sees you there, holding out a star in your hand. 

“I am just imagining things, right?” Seungmin rubs his eyes, blinking a few times before looking again at your direction, “Am I dreaming?”

You take a few steps, stopping right in front of him with quite a distance. You lovingly gaze at his orbs as you let go of the star you are holding, “No, it’s me.” 

The star floats to the sky and changes color as it goes higher, it stops just below the crescent moon before glowing amber, a line connecting forming a large constellation of stars, but the star only connects to the stars of other Feys. The fated to see deaths, the fated to die disgusted and avoided by people. It was the most beautiful night sky you’ve ever seen. 

“I’m alive,” you smile at Seungmin, “I’m here.” You step closer to him and your hand reaches for the side of his face, wiping away the stray tears. 

“Thank goodness, you are fine.” A tear escaped from your eye. 

“What do you mean?” Seungmin places his hand on top of yours.

“I saw it, I was supposed to die that night.” You choked on your own words, this time you are telling him, “the day we first met, I saw myself dying beside you, and that was the first time I saw my death.”

“What does that mean?” Seungmin intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Your memories with me will fade and you will forget me as if I didn’t exist in the first place.” You mumbles lightly, hating the thought of him forgetting you.

“But you didn’t, right?”

“My lifespan is short and the universe should’ve taken my soul that night .” You cried, “But we weren’t together that night, and I completely forgot about it, by the time I remember it, I was so afraid that I won’t be able to say goodbye.”

Seungmin pulls you in a warm embrace, you can feel his body trembling as you nuzzle your head further on his chest, “but I saw you that night- I felt something strange and so I ran to the first place that came into my mind, but I collapsed before I can go to you. Minho said he didn’t see anyone.”

“That is the reason why I am still alive, because we were supposed to be together, but we weren’t.” You lace your arms around his slim waist, reciprocating the hug, “And I’ve never been thankful in my life. You prevented me from fading.”

“But why did I see your star?” You look up to him and see him staring at the star beside your grandmother’s.

“Consider this my second life, and that star has all my memories before I was about to die.” He lowers down his face to meet yours, gazing lovingly at your orbs. He doesn’t know what to say, his emotions are all messed up, despair, regret, anger, joy, bliss- all those in one night.

“But what about the star you are holding earlier?”

“That… I am not a Fey anymore… because I survived my own death.” You gently smile at him.

“Promise me to never leave my side.” Seungmin’s eyes are red and raw from crying so much, “we’ll forever gaze at the night skies, for as long as you want, just please stay with me.”

You nod at him and he presses his soft lips for a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“But Seungmin,” He hums and you removed your other arm from his waist, reaching to cup the left side of his face, your thumb gently grazing on his cheek, “You already have the galaxies in your eyes.”

And all he needed to know were answered with that.

[faulty-writes]

I read the pirate ask, I didn’t know I needed a pirate au in my life until you posted it!!! Can I request the same boys + Dabi’s reaction to learning their beloved mermaid escaped but then after a while she decides to comes back cause she loves them? Thank you! (P.s Absolutely love you and your stuff)

[ Thank you, I appreciate that you like my work so much. Let’s see what dear old faulty-writes can do. ] 

Previous Pirate!AU here. 

Tomura Shigaraki 

He should have expected this, no one ever wanted to stay with a ruthless Captain. Okay, maybe he didn’t treat you the best. But damn it, he gave you a room. He let you sleep with him in his bed, he had fought off some pathetic pirates that tried to kidnap you from his ship. What more did you want? Frankly Captain Shigaraki thought you were being ungrateful, despite the fact it hurt without your presence on the ship. Not that he would admit it. 

Still, he had taken his foul mood out on his crew members. “All hands hoay!” he screamed and tapped his foot impatiently, everyone on the ship knew better than to keep the Captain waiting. But, even they knew the Captain was pissed off without you around, he had even hung a few of his lesser-known crew members for talking back to him. 

Weeks had passed since your escape and though Shigaraki wouldn’t admit it, he missed you. “Why should I miss that wench!? Ungrateful ...I should have tied a hempen halter myself and ...” he growled, clearly frustrated as he sat on his bed. Teeth pressing together and his anger boiling, he suddenly shot up. Ready to go hang another crew member when the sound of something caught his ears. He stopped a moment, his eyes widened as he recognized the melody and quickly ran up to the deck. It was night time and the stars were shimmering in the sky and the boat was gently rocking to the rhythm of the sea. 

He looked around before spotting a hand on the edge of his boat. He quickly ran over, though he was surprised to see you climbing up the side of his boat. He reached down and pulled you up. “So ...ye’ve come back have ye?” he questioned before growling. “Why is that?” you smiled in response. “Ye love me something awful, huh?” he said before huffing, “Well ...ye’re still mine. Try and escape again and I swear I’ll ...” his words came to a stop when you wrapped your arms around him. Making his body stiffen in response, though he denied he didn’t want it. His heart still raced knowing that you came back to him. 

Shinsou Hitoshi 

Despite his promotion due to your capture, he couldn’t help but feel some guilt. During your time on the ship, he had visited you in the holding cell. Offered you food and on occasion he’d take a nap with you. It wasn’t the most stable relationship, but he did notice he happened to smile whenever he was near you. But, part of him was suspicious that someone else had helped you escape as there was no other way you could have gotten out of the holding cell. 

But still, he tried to carry on like nothing bothered him. But those that knew him a little more than the rest had noticed his change in behavior. Though he normally appeared uninterested in anything. There was a certain light in his eye that was gone and it left with you. Shinsou was sighing more than usual and often stayed up at night, writing letters to you and a few pieces of poetry. 

He had begun to sit in his dinghy at night, it was securely tied to the ship so he had no fear he’d be swept out to sea. He would wait until it was quiet and the rest of the crew was asleep. Then he’d sit and look at the moon and stars, notebook in hand as he used a candle for light. One night in particular his heart was aching and he sighed, feeling no motivation to write. “Where are ye ...I miss having ye around,” he muttered before he felt his boat tip over. 

He gasped and the next thing he knew, he was underwater, and hands grabbed onto his waist. He kicked and tried to pry them off before he saw your face come into view, your hair floating all around and your gills pulsing. He was in disbelief and you reached up to cup his cheek before pulling him to the surface. He coughed and glared at you. “Is that how ye greet me when ye finally decide to return?” he questioned as you swam closer to him and wrapped your arms around his torso. Nuzzling your head against his shoulder and an odd purring sound echoed from your throat. Shinsou let out a sigh, “Aye, Aye ...I love ye too. Now can we get back on the ship?” he questioned flatly, annoyed that his notebook was now ruined. 

Bakugou Katsuki 

He knew he hadn’t treated you the nicest when he tied you up and forced you onto the ship. But damn, he had tried to make up for it. He’d give you cuddles and press soft kisses to your gills. Wasn’t that enough to make you want to stay? Obviously not because sometime during the night you managed to escape, jump off the ship and disappear and it left Bakugou in a sour mood. 

A few months had passed and Bakugou was wreaking havoc on the ship, screaming and terrifying his crew members to the point where some of them had even jumped off the side. “Damn it all!” he growled, ready to pull his hair out. “Uh, Captain Bakugou ...don’t ye think ye should calm down and-” Denki tried to reason with him before receiving Bakugou’s glare in return. “Hey ...uh, what’s that?” Kirishima as he lowered the telescope and pointed to a nearby set of rocks. “Is that ...” the redhead questioned before Bakugou snatched the telescope and looked through it, his heart skipping a beat. 

“That ...that’s me mermaid!” he snapped, “What the hell!?” He ground his teeth together, “Batten down the hatches and get the fishing net, ye dumbasses!” he ordered as the ship slowly navigated toward the rocks where you sat. Bakugou’s nails dug into the railing of the ship as he stared down at you, and watched as you waved your webbed hand at him.  “I SAID HURRY YE LANDLUBEBRS!” he snapped and Kirishima and Denki came stumbling out with the net. “Here ye go, Captain BakuBro.” Kirishima said and Bakugou snatched the net from him. “Don’t call me that!” he growled. 

He looked down at you once more before tossing the net, making sure it was around you before his crew hoisted you up. “Were ye just waiting for me there?!” he snapped at you, but you only smiled from behind the net. Your webbed-hands clinging to it. He growled and stepped closer, looking you in the eye. “How long have ye been planning this!?” he demanded, stepping even closer as his nose brushed against yours. You chuckled and reached through the net to grab his shirt, pulling him forward. He gasped when he felt your cold moist lips touch his, all in all. You knew you could never leave your Captain, for even if he treated you wrongfully. You loved him. 

Izuku Midoriya 

He didn’t know what he had done wrong, everything seemed fine. Even if you were technically his captive, the fact that you decided to disappear after he had tried to return you back to the sea only to have you refuse was strange. Why did you leave? He treated you well, in fact he loved you and he had told you so. Maybe that was why you ran away, were you afraid of his love? 

The thought weighed down on his heart so much that he had lost some of his motivation and decided to dock in a nearby town. His crew members were happy to finally be on land, despite their love for the sea. Even they needed a break sometimes. But Midoriya spent a majority of the time standing on the dock near his ship. His eyes scanning the water for you day and night, he just wanted to see you one last time. Was that too much to ask? 

After a month of waiting for you, as much as he hated to give up. He needed to get back to the sea, on the night before he left. He once more stood on the dock, looking out on the sea. “I thought she loved me, aye ...but who would ever want to be associated with a Captain?” he questioned, his shoulders slumping before he turned to walk back to the hotel. But then he heard a splashing sound and paused, what was that? He slowly turned to look over the dock and gasped when he saw you sitting on the rocks, he noticed something was in your hands but he didn’t pay it much thought. 

“Y/n!” he called and you smiled up at him before motioning him over with your webbed finger. He felt his heart skip a beat before he jumped off the dock, even though he landed awkwardly on the rocks, he stumbled his way to you and smiled. “Y-Ye, did ye come back for me?” he questioned and nearly felt like crying when you nodded and extended your hands out. He blinked and noticed you were holding a small treasure box. “Is this for me?” he questioned before taking it. “Thank ye,” he said as he opened it, his eyes widening when he saw the small number of gold coins inside. He smiled and pulled you in for a hug, “I knew ye loved me too.” he said as a single tear ran down his cheek. 

Dabi 

Dabi was more or less, a pirate without a ship. In fact, he preferred to burn them to the ground. He had been accused and charged with arson in various towns and was a wanted man across the seas. He usually changed his identity every now and again and as of late, he had scored himself a boat and though he was associated with Captain Shigaraki, he often went off on his own. That’s how he happened to meet you. 

Unfortunately, like many things in his life. Whenever he got a moment of bliss, it usually blew up in his face. So, he shouldn’t have been surprised when he woke up one day to find you gone. “Guess it was just another dream blown up in smoke,” he muttered before trying to go about his life, but he found himself missing your company. Given it had only been a couple days since you left, still he missed the soft touch of your hair and the smoothness of your skin compared to his. 

He knew there was little chance you’d find him or he’d find you. Despite the emotions that he felt inside his heart when he thought of you, he continued with his dirty work. Believing that burning a ship down might make him feel better. The sound of those screams that echoed from the now-dead pirates was amusing and it did make him laugh. But as he watched the ship burn into ash and the belongings of the various pirates that once occupied that ship float across the surface of the water, he couldn’t help but groan. Maybe this would be more fun if you were around. He shook his head before turning his back, ready to set sail once more when he heard a gentle splash. 

“Hm?” he turned with a suspicious glance in his eye and watched as various items where pulled underneath the water, “What the fuck is happening now ...” he muttered, ready to set up another explosive fire bottle before he watched something shimmer. He paused in disbelief as he watched you emerge from underneath the rubble of broken boards and dead bodies. “So ye decided to come back did ye,” he said, acting as though he didn’t care as you sawm over to his boat and attempted to climb inside. “Well ...least ye have some common sense,” he muttered, though he tried to ignore the fluttering in his heart before turning to you. “I’m glad ye’re back,” he said before leaning over to hug you. The lonely pirate wasn’t so lonely anymore. 

[vermilionskiinmorning]

Note:Sorry this took me an age to fill especially considering it’s not terribly long >.< None the less I hope you enjoy it! As ever, my written Irish accent is likely horrible, but I hope you get the gist. Finan’s gift [xx]

A Humble Gift

Fandom: The Last Kingdom/The Saxon Stories

Pairing: Finan/Reader

Words: 1755

-----

Despite the cool chill in the air the sun beat down on Finan as he made his way through the streets of Lunden. He needed to reach the stables with haste. If he didn’t make it in time his party would grow irritated by his tardiness. The Lord Uhtred would not be bothered, but the few priests who rode with them to Gloucester might cause a stink over a delay. So, he quickened his step and made decent time arriving just as the stable hands finished their task of readying the horses. Uhtred lifted a questioning brow but made no comment on his moderately disordered appearance at having rushed. Shortly there after they all mounted up and made for the city gates. The journey to Gloucester wasn’t long and they would arrive in a few days just in time for the Lady Hollis’s birthday celebration.

Lady Hollis was Æthelred’s first cousin by marriage and the two had grown up together. So, the Lord of Mercia was throwing her a feast which Lord Uhtred had been invited to. Of course, the invitation had been sent out grudgingly on Æthelred’s part though that was of no consequence to Uhtred -their dislike was mutual. No doubt he would greet his cousin and proceed to ignore him for the rest of their visit.

It had puzzled Finan somewhat at first when Uhtred had announced their imminent departure but for the look his Lord gave him when making said announcement. Uhtred had noticed the letters Finan had been receiving in secret and guessed at their origin. Naturally knowing his Irishman as well as he did the Lord had guessed correctly. At their last visit to Gloucester the Lady Hollis had been there -not long after their return the letters had begun. Finan supposed it was not so difficult to put the two together. The kindness Uhtred was doing him was not lost on Finan.

Their journey was expedient and trouble-free. They arrived on time, the day before the feast, and were received by Æthelred before being dismissed to find their lodgings. Had they been in Winchester Uhtred might have complained at not being housed at the palace, but he made no comment on it as they settled in at the inn. Finan assumed it was all the better to him for not being obligated to spend extra time in Æthelred’s presence.

He slept little that night. Tossing and turning frequently in his sleep, Finan eyed the pouch he’d laid on the chair with his other belongings even in the dark. A feeling of apprehension came over him whenever he looked at it for its contents made him nervous for the next day to come. When he had purchased the token, he had been feeling much more confident. Now he worried over whether he ought to have gotten it at all. Lady Hollis was likely to receive many and much more impressive gifts on the morrow which would make his feeble attempt seem so little a thing. Once he would have been able to bestow such gifts upon her, but not since having been cast out of his own land. How much easier it would be to be with her if he were still a prince of the Uí Néill.

-----

Her eighteenth year and she was still not married. It was an uncommon thing, but for the love her father bore her. Having lost his wife many years past he had clung tight to his daughter being quite loathe to let her go. In her youth it had not bothered her quite so much as she escaped several displeasing proposals in those years. All of which had been blessedly turned away by her father.

However, things were different now. Æthelred had begun the previous year to put pressure upon her father, Lord Ælfstan, to see her wed lest she become a spinster. Of course, he was right. As such at the feast Hollis was showered with the attention of many Lords looking to win her favor. She was not averse to attention in fact at times she quite enjoyed it, though the one who’s attention she sought was no Lord.

Earlier in the evening she had seen him enter with Lord Uhtred’s party from Lunden and had been hard pressed to hide the smile which spread across her face. Her cousin had grumbled the previous evening at dinner over the arrival of Lord Uhtred, who he had clearly hoped would not accept the invitation, but she had not been there at their arrival. So, to finally see the face she searched for among the crowed, Hollis had been quite elated.

-----

When the feast finally ended the guests filtered into the next room where much drinking and dancing would take place. Finan’s hand fell to the pouch tied at his belt where he fiddled absently with the strings as he had numerous times throughout that day. He had hoped to catch her in the halls before the meal but had had no such luck. And so, he sat through the feast with the weight at his belt growing by the moment. A more pessimistic part of his subconscious thought he might never get a moment alone with her after all and thus all his worry would have been for nothing.

The dancing began and Finan stayed near the wall for a time drinking from his mug of ale chatting with Sihtric and Uhtred. Eventually Uhtred left them and he watched Hollis be twirled about the hall by this Lord and that. His mood grew more sour with each new partner until it was Lord Uhtred she was dancing with. Last Finan had seen Lord Uhtred had been speaking with the Lady Æthelfled. Sighing, Finan turned away to focus on what Sihtric was saying.

“I can never get used to these sorts of celebrations,” Sihtric commented.

“Different than chuggin’ ale and wrestlin’ in the dirt eh?” Finan retorted with as much humor as he could muster.

“At least it isn’t so uptight,” shot back the half-dane.

“And more fun too,” he agreed.

“Do you know why Uhtred even agreed to come at all?” Sihtric asked.

Of course, he knew. “To see the Lady Æthelfled I expect,” Finan lied.

Sihtric’s brow rose in question.

Finan shot him a condescending look.

“Truly?” Sihtric responded dubiously.

He would have replied except for the little cough that drew his attention away from his friend. There stood Hollis with a polite smile on her lovely face. When he said nothing, she tilted her head as if in question.

“My Lady,” Sihtric said with a slight bow of his head.

The half-Dane’s words jolted him from his shock and Finan murmured the same greeting.

“If you would excuse me? I’m quite parched. I was only trying to reach the ale,” she said.

“My apologies Lady,” Sihtric said.

Swiftly he moved to make room for her to pass; though, he did note to himself that she could have easily gone around them to reach the ale. When he went to exchange glances with Finan he noticed the Irishman looking the Lady with an intent gaze. Sihtric furrowed his brow.

“It is rather warm,” Finan commented.

“Yes, it is,” Hollis said, then hesitated. “I imagine a nice breeze would be quite pleasant.”

“I believe you might be right. Enjoy the celebrations Lady,” Finan said before also moving to let her pass.

Finally, Finan met Sihtric’s confused gaze with a shrug and a little smirk. Sihtric turned slightly to watch the Lady make her way to the ale and fill her cup. When he turned back to Finan the Irishman was gone.

-----

Out in the courtyard it was much less noisy than it had been indoors, and a subtle breeze blew through the enclosed area. He waited under the shadow one of the aspen trees which lined the two ends of the plaza. Thankfully, he did not have to be patient long for her to appear. A muffled sound of laughter followed by light steps alerted him to her approach across the yard, but only when he saw her bathed in moonlight did, he step out from under the branches. Hollis looked about for a moment before calling to him.

“Finan?” she whispered.

Clearly, she had not seen him nevertheless the moment his name passed her lips she spied him and hurried to close the distance. For his part Finan went to meet her, but by then she was only a hand full of steps away and to his surprise she stepped in swiftly and wrapped her arms around him. The embrace was brief but even so it calmed the nervous racing of his heart.

“Have you missed me?” she asked softly as she withdrew.

“Have ye’ not been readin’ my letters?” he quipped with a sly grin.

“I have,” Hollis replied with a shy smile. “Though, I would hear you say it.”

“I ‘ave missed ye’ as much as a man misses ‘is bed on a long journey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “If na’ more so.”

Her smile brightened with joy at hearing his words.

“And I you.”

With his free hand, Finan fumbled for the pouch at his belt. Hollis’s eyes went to the pouch before returning to his face with a questioning look. A ghost of his former apprehension passed through him as he removed it.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I saw it…in Lunden. I thought o’ ye.”

His expression turned a shade abashed as he released her hand to draw open the pouch. From within he drew out a brooch made from silver in a delicately crafted design. Steeling himself, Finan held it out for her to take. A hand flew to her mouth in surprise and she hesitated.

“You need not have troubled yourself,” she whispered.

“I wanted t’. Ye mentioned ye ‘ad lost yer favorite cloak pin…”

Her eyes watered slightly as she looked up at him.

“I had completely forgotten telling you. Finan-“Hollis cut herself off by embracing him tightly once more, though this time she didn’t draw away fully. “You are so thoughtful.”

He couldn’t help the pride that rose in his chest at her praise. Unthinkingly, Finan raised his hand to Hollis’s cheek brushing his thumb delicately over her cheek to wipe away the single tear that had fallen. An impish grin was spreading on his lips.

“Now, Lady there’s no need t’ be cryin’ over a trifle.”

“Tis’ not a trifle since it came from you,” Hollis said.

[beckythesooh]

On the HIMYM Finale + Deleted Scenes (rewatch)

On my hate of Ted’s relapse in season 7:

Rewatching HIMYM and of course, I’m sad again at how much I loved it sans Ted’s suddenly thinking he’s in love with Robin again after Drunk Train. It pisses me off so much, and which there were comments on how it made sense because Ted was just so down on himself that he had stooped so low as to try to get girls on the train and be so far away from his goal—I would have believed that but the ensuing episodes definitely show this wasn’t the case. Drunk Train was season 7 episode 16. They broke up at the end of season 2 and only had a heart to heart about how difficult the break up was a few episodes later, and casual sex along with screaming and anger mid season 3. Never once in between does Ted actually like her again except when Barney wanted her and he read his letter—which I’ll account for as him being down and logically and/or nostalgically thinking they would work again, rather than current feelings. I would have wanted him to be depressed because being around happy people or people that he’s jealous of or something, because that’s relatable and understandable. But him being upset that Robin was marrying someone that wasn’t him when she never expressed being in romantic love with him for the past 6 years just makes me despise Ted. And I don’t despise him, but when I take a step back, that act makes me really hate him. And like.... Ross in Friends was a horrible human. I cannot vouch for him in that he wanted to be a good human—Ross thought he was a good human when he wasn’t. But Ted really did want to be a good human. And it upsets me that this is where the line is drawn, where he believes he deserves Robin more than Barney, more than anyone, when she never showed interest in him again.

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

A brief touch on my hate of Robin’s character in love:

I don’t hate Robin as a human or a character in general. But I severely hate how she was the writers’ ultimate princess on a pedestal and never thought about how she’s not a prize, but she needs to work for happiness. Never once does she work for any of her relationships. She’s incredibly selfish—and hey, that’s fine because I am and all humans are to a degree, but she’s not allowed to stay selfish and get any and every happy ending. That pisses me off to no end. I agree with the people that say Robin didn’t deserve Ted—but in reality, it was more that Ted deserved better. She never made any grand gesture for Ted or Barney when they both tried to give her anything and everything they had. I’m unsure if in any relationship she put herself on the line. I think after Don, she stopped. I think Don got the best of her, but Don didn’t quite treat her well. Kevin was the best match for her because he helped simmer her crazy and he could be a little crazier with her, but really she didn’t offer anything consciously.

She was unwilling to compromise in season 2, and she never changed throughout—she only revealed parts of her that she kept hidden. The writers made her sane and insane, kind and cruel, and every other paradox so she could fit into anything they wanted and seem rounded out even when she wasn’t. The writers kept her as this ideal girl and never understood that girls can have character development too. (Not that anyone besides Barney really had character development—which is also why everyone was rooting for him, not Ted.) The things she’d give up for Barney, she never cared about. The dogs she gave up for Ted in season 2 were her only attempt at dipping her toes in the water, but then the writers just never made her swim again (not that she should have given away her dogs for Ted). As the series progressed, it felt like she didn’t care about anything. That’s why she was consistently able to swing into a new relationship on the same day after a breakup. Because they made Robin sane enough, no one had to doubt her love and she never had to prove it. But now it all seems like a desperate girl who is afraid to be alone and has no idea what she wanted (continued in next section).

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

On the deleted Robin x Ted lunch finale scene in 2020 and how it impacts the ending:

Josh Radnor said he hoped the writers kept that in the finale because it showed that Ted wasn’t always pining for Robin when he was with Tracy, and that Robin loved and was thinking about Ted as much if not more. I agree with the first part, definitely not the latter.

Before I discuss how I interpreted that scene, here is how I interpret the two endings of HIMYM vs the ideals of the fans (from my perspective).

The ending where Tracy dies and Ted gets with Robin at the end:

Pros: 

The fan theory that maybe this is a happy ending because Tracy gets to be with Max in Heaven, Ted and Robin (and Ted got the kids he wanted and Robin got her career), and Barney and his daughter.

I guess the writers get to use their original footage, but like that doesn’t really warrant a number.

Cons: 

Like Josh Radnor said, it makes it seem like Ted was in love with Robin even when he was with Tracy.

Season 8 and 9 were a total bust and a LOT of the footage and most meaningful and dramatic scenes (absolutely EVERYTHING WITH TED) were a WASTE of viewer emotion. Like I legitimately regret giving any fucks about Ted’s emotions, that lying sonuvabitch.

If it is meant to be like Robin and Ted are soul mates and belong together, the ENTIRE SEASON 3-9 made the fans believe that either 1. NO THEY’RE NOT, or 2. soul mates are STUPID and a LIE and not as amazing as Lily and Marshall made it seem. And if not, then it perpetuates that soul mates aren’t a thing.

It makes it seem that if a guy pines after a girl enough, he’ll fucking get her eventually. No one on the face of at least Democratic America wants white guys to get that message, wtf.

By perpetuating Pro #1, it further makes Tracy to be a vehicle for Ted’s children and not really anything else. Kinda ties into Con #1.

The ending where Tracy is alive (actually this doesn’t matter to me) where Robin and Ted don’t get together at the end:

Pros:

The hope and dream and ideal that a soul mate (Tracy) exists at the end of the suffering—the thing that made Ted such a good protagonist—lives on. And is finally accomplished. And we can be happy for Ted, while believing in love and life ourselves. (This is the main fucking point, in contrast to Con #3 of the previous end.)

The reassurance that even if you think you’re in love now and it’s not working out, one day, you’ll GET THE FUCK OVER IT

The hope that all the love you give out will be reciprocated (this is different than #1 for me simply based on Tracy’s personality, rather than the fact that Ted ended up with someone that wasn’t Robin. Because Tracy was kind to him and wanted to make Ted happy. Robin never tried to make Ted happy, she just rolled with the punches.)

The fact that the drumroll, the build up, the suspense of the story led to actual grandeur and a happy end, and not a fake out like the other ending. (Different from the above because this is simply the storyline, and how this way wouldn’t be like a “haha, [the ending] was in front of you the entire time!”)

Cons:

No footage of the kids?

No non-sappy way to end that doesn’t make everyone hate the writers?

No reason why Ted is telling this story to his kids?

Like honestly, while sappy, there is no con to a happy ending

Now, let’s retrace the first betrayal ending with the dinner scene:

Pros:

Yes, it does look like Ted loved Tracy / didn’t pine after Robin in his head. And yes, this was something that killed everyone in the finale and thus was a big thing.

If Ted x Robin occurs, you still get the Pro #1 fan theory.

Cons:

It doesn’t look like Robin was in love with Ted even if she admits to thinking about him. It instead just looks like she regretted her life and selfishly wanted him because he treated her well, even when she never had any intention of giving him what he wanted. 

Also the awkward thing about Robin kinda trying to get him back when he has a family and alive wife at that point in time.

If this continued with the Robin x Ted thing, it doesn’t really make it seem that Ted was head over heels magically in love with Tracy during this time. His quote, “Happiness is when you stop thinking about the ifs,” would instead be interpreted as if he settled and didn’t want any risks. And, considering he met her after Robin was married, and had kids with her while Robin was still married, this would further incriminate that thought.  Happiness is not love, but the stability of knowing that this relationship... is stable. Ted, despite having cheated on Victoria when she was in Germany with Robin, has never struck me as a cheater. He has always struck me, even in the lowest and crappiest and sleaziest of times, as someone who wanted to treasure the people around him. The fact that he was unnerved by Robin’s confession because he had Tracy and his family did not feel to me that it was because he loved Tracy, but because it was stable, it was his, and he had stopped thinking about Robin when she wasn’t there.

If Ted x Robin get together still, a la Con #1, I cannot be happy for them. Why? What the writer showed us in the original is that Ted has always pined for Robin. This lunch scene was supposed to dispose of that. But, then, it becomes that Robin wants Ted and Ted is like “I always cared about her and it’s been 6 years and I’m lonely.” And yes, this is much better than the original betrayal ending. But it’s still not a happy ending. Ted gets with her because he’s lonely, not because she’s the “one” anymore. And no one cares about that (and it’ll always be overshadowed by the ANNOYANCE OF TED IN SEASON 8-9). Robin gets together with Ted because she’s lonely, regrets many things in her life, and she knows Ted would treat her well (despite never self-reflecting that she doesn’t offer him anything because he always blindly accepted everything about her). That’s not a happy ending, nor an ending worth giving my feelings for, though admittedly more satisfactory than the original.

Overall, the show is supposed to be about how he meets the mother. How he meets his wife. How he falls in love with her. The audience is wanting to watch him fall in love. And after so many seasons of him being alone, the build up becomes grander. We want to believe that at the end of the tunnel is salvation. That this relatable, kind character will be blessed with happiness and love equal or greater to what he’s given. We like the character, and we want him to be happy. And he was never happy pining after Robin. We want to relate to his struggles, but we want him to be rewarded. We want to believe we too will be rewarded. The original ending didn’t do that. I can’t understand how anyone doesn’t understand the backlash after properly watching the show (and being a sane romantic, which should be the prime audience of this show).

So no, I will never forgive that ending.

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

And just because I’m ranting,

On what I think about Robin and Barney.

I honestly don’t care if they stayed married or not. Married doesn’t solve problems between a couple. I don’t like them getting divorced from a conservative perspective, but I also don’t see them doing well in the construct of marriage (which also goes for Robin and Ted, but Robin was always portrayed as sane when with Ted. Though really, she would suck at marriage and kids. When she was with Ted, it was literally just sex. And her being his roommate showed that all non-lust side was incompatible. But I digress).

But, I dislike that the finale gave Barney a daughter as a band-aid and made it seem all right.

I can imagine Robin and Barney always fighting. I can imagine it going as far as a divorce. But I can’t imagine it getting to a point where Barney stops trying and stops caring. Because he tried throughout the seasons and he couldn’t. Why, when he gets her, would he stop. Robin never tried, and I can see her falling out of love because she’s incapable of loving (at least for everyone after Don), only of accepting love and using them as a crutch. But Barney really tried and season 8 showed it in tangible measures. While I understand that a one-way street will eventually reach a dead-end (actually I don’t think that’s true, but for the sake of a lack of a better metaphor), the fact that at that point Robin didn’t step it up makes me hate any ending that would end up with her and Ted even more. Yes, Barney was a pig. But he was able to win over the audience into making us believe that he is capable of loving someone. And Robin never did.

I can imagine Barney giving Robin space if she asked, which includes the divorce. But to try to convince us, the audience, into believing that he stopped loving her and stopped showing it in his side glances and gentle grins pisses me the fuck off. I don’t need them married, I don’t need them constantly together. But they’re a couple where I trust Barney to keep going back to as home.

Also that daughter thing—while cute in theory, Barney had an episode about his previous wing bro having knocked up a girl and being a father and it destroying his personality. I can really only imagine this as being how it winds up. I do think Barney would be a good father. And I do think that if Barney is with Robin, he would not have that chance. But I also think that Barney would always love Robin more than enough to be willing to give that up. Unlike Ted, I believe Barney if he said he’d be willing to give it all up without regretting it for the rest of his life. I hate that Barney wasn’t allowed to remain the metamorphosed character at the end of all of his character development. They had to revert all the things to give him a daughter. They didn’t even give him some sort of back story to how the hell he could fuck up the protection when he had sex with over 200 girls without issues. Yeah I’m salty about the shitty and inconsistent writing/storytelling.

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

On whether I care if Tracy dies:

Not too much, because I understand that things happen. It does make me sad if we are made to think she and Ted are soulmates, only for her to die early. While I do agree that her early death and making Max her soul mate does sound cute, I refuse to believe for eternity that Robin was Ted’s soul mate, so leaving Ted without a soul mate would also piss me off about this story and basically Ted would be equivalent as Barney knocking up someone, but with a nanny that happens to be the mother of the children. So the answer is no because then we need to destroy the concept of soul mates. So this is why I would like Tracy to live, though I’m not mad at her dying.

Obviously from a storytelling perspective, it would be weird for Ted to tell his kids his whole dating history just to finally skim through his meeting with the mother and she is still alive. But really we gave no shits about why Ted was discussing all these pointless things to his kids, so that continuity isn’t needed if it destroys our hopes and ideals.

If she’s alive, it makes more sense for Ted to talk about the courtship with the mother. If she’s dead, the only reason for him to discuss all his courtships with all the other women would be..... well, in theory it makes sense to show that he’s always loved Robin, too bad that didn’t properly translate in the actual show post season 3 (like really, Robin would have needed to interfere in every relationship Ted had for it to be relevant to the betrayal ending, but that stopped after Stella and there would need to be a time skip to Victoria with inbetweens of Barney x Robin, but ultimately most of Robin’s love life could be omitted. Seriously, if that was the reason Ted was telling the story, then his storytelling skills are shit and he should be at least 65 and retired because his mind is going). And to tell the story just to be like  “I wanna date again” is also nonsense. Basically, all routes are nonsense. Shoulda just scrapped the purpose of Ted telling his sordid past into just him telling a story. Also, getting the kid actors as adults is still hilarious so I think people wouldn’t mind the kids’ continuity over a better ending. 

[ineffablecolors]

The Wife [23/24]

The Wife || Ch 23 ~ 4k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11 C12 Ch13Ch14Ch15Ch16 Ch17 Ch18 Ch19 Ch20 Ch21 Ch22 || FF.NET&AO3

Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

A/N: You all know it’s been 84 years so I just hope this is worth the wait. Just one more after this, which hopefully won't take me another month.

In recent months, Mrs Emma Jones has discovered an extraordinary love for the theatre. This is, in some part, the work of her sister and brother-in-law who first invited her and Killian along to a play – Emma and Elsa both finding Liam’s choice of An Ideal Husband a bit on the nose, much to Killian’s endless amusement. Then there is, of course, Alice and Robyn’s contribution – a rather significant one, considering Alice’s utter fascination with farces and Robyn’s almost cultish dedication to Wilde.

Her husband, however, has been all too willing to sweep all credit for himself, smug and self-congratulatory about the whole affair, and Emma cannot quite comprehend why – or so she says to one and all – it’s not like he invented the stage.

Yes, Killian has rather good taste, an exceptional eye for smaller productions that are about to become everybody’s latest favourite just a week after Captain and Mrs Jones have seen them, and he does know quite a few people – both behind and on stage, though he claims to prefer – and indeed seems to have much better relationships with – the playwrights rather than the actors. Something about men who spend an outrageous amount of their time sequestered in their studies and bent over a small hill of papers flocking together Emma said and received that look from Killian that she so enjoys – part outrage and part amusement, with a thrilling undercurrent of admiration.

Yet, whether or not he deserves credit for her newfound love of the stage, Emma cannot deny enjoying Killian’s unaffected manner of speaking with great playwrights, the lithe way he leads her backstage and introduces her to people that she might have felt inadequate and tongue-tied in front of just a year ago. It’s different now, less nerve-wracking than she would have guessed. Emma is far from the centre of conversation but, when she has an opinion, she puts it forward and the surprise of people listening and considering and sometimes agreeing with her lessens every time. It’s part Killian’s hand – warm and solid on the small of her back, part the atmosphere – a place so out of her old life that she feels unmarred and equal here, and maybe, it’s part her – not afraid to take whatever space her gown requires and voice whatever thought her mind has deemed intelligent enough.

Emma has had more than one rather stimulating and even entertaining discussion in theatre houses in recent months, it’s all rather pleasant and cultured. Most evenings at least. Not that this particular evening is not taking a rather stimulating turn but—

Her back collides with the wall, the sound muted by the plush burgundy curtain that rasps against the hard ridges of her corset’s lacing. Her gasp is also muted by Killian’s tongue sliding over the roof of her mouth and tangling with her own, the rise and fall of her bosom restricted by his proximity and brushing the velvet material of his vest on every deep breath. She is running rather short on those when his mouth slants less than elegantly across her cheek and the cool tip of his nose burrows behind her ear.

“And you were,” Emma takes in a mouthful of air and unconsciously tilts her head and her hips to give him better access to both. “such a gentleman just a minute ago.”

There are voices all around them – audience milling around in the great hall just a flight of small stairs away, actors undressing and bemoaning blunders and missteps and forgotten lines in the dressing rooms a narrow hallway to their left and workers already dismantling the stage décor a few less than solid walls behind.

“I plan to be a gentleman in the minute that follows as well, Mrs Jones.”

She would scoff at the cockiness in his tone – it’s a thrilling discovery when he gets like this sometimes, it’s equally delicious to push back, the smug turn of his mouth that she can now feel against her exposed collarbone. She would, but somehow she must have missed the moment when Killian hitched her skirts up enough to sneak his hand between her legs, so the sound she makes is more of a keen, not quite – she would argue – a wail, and just barely stifled as he presses his wooden hand against her mouth at the same time he slips two fingers inside her.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut and buckles her hips forward and when two fingers become three, she swallows hard and bites down on his leather glove. Killian’s body is like a furnace against hers and she can feel the fine sheen of sweat forming at the back of her neck, under her heavy curls. It takes a minute but when she is sure that she can control the sounds coming out of her mouth, Emma drops her head against the fabric-covered wall behind and makes a valiant attempt to glare at the man who is nosing his way between her breasts and obliterating any hope she might have of looking presentable after this.

“You are a villain, Captain.”

His laughter shakes her whole body and his thumb hits that all-important spot and Emma discovers she doesn’t quite have those sounds under control after all.

“Do you feel wronged, my queen?”

“I feel positively debauched.”

“Debauched, is it? I cannot, in good conscience, say I dislike the sound of that.”

“I— Oh! Killian, please.”

“Please what?”

“Oh! Ooh, you will— you will regret this.”

That makes him pull out of her corset and when his face comes into focus Emma has to admit that she is probably not the only one who looks indecent – Killian’s lips are almost swollen pink, contrasting tantalizingly with his greying beard, and his disheveled hair makes her realize that his sojourn between her breasts was not solely his idea. She doesn’t have precise knowledge of what she looks like herself, beyond that distinct feeling of debauchery, but the flickers in Killian’s eyes tell her that she is a sight indeed.

“No,” he shakes his head and bites his lip as he twists his hand, making Emma bite down on her own bottom lip hard. “No, I don’t believe I will.”

In the end – though this would be merely a precursor rather than an end, if she has any say in the matter – Emma cannot claim she regrets it either. Not when Killian’s hand smooths the layers of her gown over her backside and makes a valiant attempt to brush her hair over her shoulders, not when she presses her lips right against his pulse and steps up close enough to feel the tension he has most definitely not relieved, not when they sneak out of the theatre’s back entrance, laughing and tripping over less than stable limbs.

*****

It’s a thinly veiled ploy – Salome not being to the gentlemen’s taste, Elsa wanting an evening out with the girls before they depart – it’s not a bad ploy, Emma is sure they will have a lovely evening, it just doesn’t do much to divert her attention from the fact that Killian and Liam are staying in for more than brotherly commiserating.

“I don’t think even aunt Elsa wants them to take on more work.”

Emma’s fingers fumble for a second and she extends her pinkie to hook the hairs she dropped and heave them into Alice’s slowly emerging braid. Emma can do her step-daughter’s hair in a few short minutes but it didn’t take long for her to realize that Alice enjoys having her hair combed and twisted into different shapes and styles. Emma still allows her to do her own (she appreciates the time with Alice and the fact that it results in Killian getting to undo it all in the evening) but it’s not hard to convince Alice that they both enjoy this much better.

So, while Robyn is probably already tapping her foot and driving Killian up the wall, Alice and Emma take their time preparing for the outing. Really, Elsa and Liam have yet to arrive so it’s not like they are being particularly inconsiderate.

“Well,” Emma weaves another strand of curly blond hair into the braid circling Alice’s head and bites lightly on her lip. “I do hope she has told him so.”

“Did you tell papa?”

Emma’s lips quirk up.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure your father is in no two minds about how I feel,” Alice tries to twist her head to look at her but Emma keeps her still with a gentle press to her neck. “And you must acknowledge that he has been rather good about it.”

“Oh, yes, of course! I just worry you will be bored while we are away visiting Captain Nemo.”

Belle and Nemo’s wedding just a month prior was a small affair with just over a dozen guests in attendance. It reminded Emma of her own wedding despite the vastly different arrangement between bride and groom. Belle’s wealth and position in society was more than secure and respected and the two had been courting since her and Killian’s visit and, despite the slight sheen of mortification and vulnerability she associates with that time, Emma can’t help feeling somewhat smug for her husband’s sake. Killian can protest all he likes but Emma is now convinced that he has a certain sense about these things and it does not lead him astray.

But while the wedding was quaint, the celebration afterwards is still going a month later. Just last week a letter arrived inviting Alice and Robyn to stay at the Captain’s estate for some time and put their skills with a bow to practical use. Alice is just as eager to see and talk books with Belle again as she is horrified at the idea of hunting with Captain Nemo. The glimmer in Robyn’s eye whenever they talk about it tells Emma that Miss Hood feels somewhat differently about the matter and, frankly, Emma is glad that she will not be around when it all comes to a head.

“While you two have spoiled us for company and entertainment, I’m sure we will find ways to amuse ourselves.”

It’s not exactly sarcastic and it only as the last two words slip out that Emma realizes the less than innocent connotations they might communicate and she reaches quickly for one of the ribbons on the vanity before them.

“But if papa takes on this new—“

“Alice, truly, you needn’t worry about me.”

“Oh, alright. I just meant that… shall you wish to, you’re more than welcome to join us at any time.”

“And leave Killian by himself?”

Touched as Emma is by the offer – they are a particular warmth in her throat, all those little things Alice says and does – she can’t quite manage to temper her outraged tone. She feels Alice’s chuckle in her shoulders.

“God forbid. And that for more than a day apart,” the teasing in Alice’s voice is like a tickle in the air and Emma pulls just a little bit harder than she has to as she secures her braid in place, only making Alice giggle again. “I merely meant that it will give him incentive to not lock himself away for too long.”

“Well, I’m not aiming to “incent”, sweetheart,” Emma leans down and whispers conspiratorially as she finishes off Alice’s hairdo.

“Never?”

Emma considers this with a bemused smile.

“It’s just… Robyn turns such a fetching pink when I’m being difficult.”

Emma laughs so loud that she can hear some impatient grumbling from downstairs.

*****

She enjoys the play immensely, even if a quarter of her mind is always back at home, wondering if Killian and Liam have moved on to the rum and cigars portion of their evening. It’s how they find them an hour later as the girls rush in, chattering endlessly and gesticulating wildly, Alice pulling Robyn before Ruby to illustrate the shape of a gown on one of the actresses that she simply must have (Emma thinks the garment a few notches too risqué but she is amused nonetheless), Granny grumbles and bustles as Elsa asks for a tray of wineglasses and drapes herself over Liam’s shoulders, demanding that he wheedle the best wine from his brother.

Emma just looks at Killian – gently, questioningly, and smiles back when he does. He takes her hand without moving too close, kisses her knuckles and winks over the length of her arm. It’s enough for her to drop bonelessly in the armchair in the corner and enjoy the girls’ antics and Liam’s grumbling about missing all the fun for another hour before Admiral and Mrs Jones take their leave. She even manages to keep her lips pressed firmly together while Killian ushers Alice to bed, promising to go riding with her tomorrow, Granny already prophesying how late breakfast will be.

She makes it all the way to the moment when she slips in bed, watching Killian take off his shirt and his brace, ruffle his hair and down a glass of water, trying to clean out the taste of rum probably. She is more than willing to help him with that as soon as the bed dips under his weight.

“How did Liam’s attack go?”

She feels his laughter as he wraps his arms around her and tugs her close.

“Love, I fear you are still much mistaken about my brother’s position when it comes to business. If we could deal with no one at all and take on as little work as possible, Liam would be most content. Though he probably won’t like balancing the accounts afterwards.”

“Yes, it’s you being the voice of reason that worries me, my heart.”

“Ah,” Killian’s hand slips up the back of her thigh, his fingers spreading to make contact with as much skin as possible. “It seems I’m being quite… unreasonable as well.”

Emma believes that the position she is currently in – with her husband’s leg between her own and his long fingers definitively heading places – justifies the slight delay with which she absorbs his words.

“Y-you are?”

“Aye, terribly unreasonable. Told my brother we should turn down this flush gentleman because my daughter and her lady are going away for a month and I wish to have my wife in every room—“

“Killian!”

“And under every tree in the garden”

“You did not.”

“Mm, not in those precise words but, trust me, my meaning was quite clear.”

“I— Well, then—“

Emma truly – foolishly – believed that the days of being flustered by her husband were behind her.

“Of course,” Killian continues in a nonchalant tone that would annoy her if other things he is currently doing didn’t please her quite so much. “This does not mean that we should let our form slip now.”

His teeth close over the shape of her breast and Emma barely manages to remember that they are not yet alone in the house.

*****

“I’m shamefully happy.”

Killian’s heart lurches and his head snaps around to look at his daughter who is trying to determine how many cherries she can fit in her mouth at once. He knows her record is nine, he also knows he is supposed to scowl and tell her how unladylike the whole thing is. Frankly, he is just still a bit sour that she beat him by one bloody cherry.

“Nothing shameful about it, sweetheart.”

Alice tries to reply around a mouthful of merely five cherries but it’s still enough to be a bit of a disaster. Her eyes widen with a touch of embarrassment and a whole lot of amusement as she pushes her fingers against her lips, chews, spits three pits out, chews, spits another, swallows, squeezes one eye shut in annoyance with the wrong cherries to pits ratio and wipes her hand over mouth.

“It’s shameful, the way having half a dozen cherries at once is,” she says as if this is the most obvious metaphor in the world and Killian grins at her.

“That’s never spotted you before.”

Her grin is cherry-red and awfully smug and he thinks maybe he is shamefully happy as well.

*****

Killian cannot say he doesn’t miss the girls when they set off for Nemo’s estate. There is a certain immutability about the house all of a sudden – a room is always just the same as it was when he last walked out of it now – things actually remaining in their places, no books and bonnets and knickknacks of all sorts appearing seemingly out of nowhere between one moment and the next.

He enjoys the calm to a degree and then his thoughts reel up unexpected – the way Roger does when he feels like he has been confined to a sedate pace for much too long – and rush forward into unexplored territories.

Well, hardly unexplored but certainly tentatively so.

For the first handful of months after Emma convinced him that they should play dice with things Killian would’ve preferred to keep securely within his grasp and control, there was an almost constant hum of tension about him – not quite unwillingness and not just worry but something waiting and anxious and ready to spring. If Emma noticed, she said something by tucking her chin into his collarbone and smoothing her hands over the scars on his side and fitting her knees right behind his and her stomach flat against his back. Emma noticed and she asked if he was certain and then she made good use of his certainty.

And then half a year went by and nothing happened despite their regular and sincere attempts and Killian felt like he could breathe easily again, except for the prickle of guilt at the nape of his neck that he felt like scratching whenever he found Emma curled up before the fire and staring somewhere beyond it.

It wasn’t that he was glad and it wasn’t that he wished for their attempts to amount to nothing. But, when they did, it felt like walking on land again after a turbulent time at sea, when they did, he would sit at the feet of the dying embers and pull her into his lap and tell her that they were alright and maybe this was alright and certainly they could wait and definitely they will remain alright.

And then another two months went by and then another and Emma dug her fingers into his forearms less whenever he sat behind her and wrapped himself around her. There is a certain melancholy about her for a couple of days every month but it doesn’t seem to mount, to build every month, it seems like the tide – coming and going with a regularity, inevitable but not drowning.

It takes almost a year for Killian to start feeling it, the way his thoughts yank the reigns a bit to the side, towards a path that he realizes part of him expected to walk eventually, whether he was prepared or not. It doesn’t change anything outward – he has been steadfast in his decision to trust Emma from the start, it’s just that now – after expectation has been quietly simmering between them without bubbling over for some time, after the girls have reminded him of things he seems better equipped for than he remembers – he is starting to trust himself as well.

Three days after Alice and Robyn depart, he realizes his thoughts have stopped right before that path of wanting and have been trumping their hooves in place for some time now.

*****

It takes a solid hour for Ruby and Killian’s combined forces – Emma sipping her tea on the side and observing their efforts with unmasked glee – to finally prevail over Granny. Eventually, begrudgingly, Mrs Lucas allows Killian to dismiss the whole staff for a week.

The freedom of the empty house is intoxicating and for the first couple of days they behave much like children left to their own devices. They don’t eat a single meal on an actual table and make a complete mess of a number of carpets and sheets, they heat pot after pot of hot chocolate and let the cups pile around the sink, they forget the horses need exercise and lie in the garden with no blanket between them and the damp ground, they break a vase full of red flowers neither of them recognizes while Killian chases her through the drawing room, her hair half down and definitely in need of a wash.

Despite Killian’s daring ambitions, they don’t make love in every room in the house, let alone under every tree in the garden, they just don’t worry about pressing their palms against the other’s mouths quite as often, they rarely bother dressing fully and on one memorable occasion Emma ventures out of their bedroom in her husband’s clothing.

But that’s not what makes her feel drunk on Killian for the entire week – it’s the fact that she spends an unusually warm day with nothing but a shawl over her dressing gown, molding herself against her husband’s side and tucking her feet under his thighs, it’s the fact that, towards the end of the week, Killian’s brace on his nightstand is covered in a fine layer of dust, it’s the fact that they run out of cocoa and, faced with the unthinkable prospect of dressing themselves properly and going to the marker, they start making a horrendous concoction that has too much milk and too much sugar to be called tea anymore, it’s the fact that Killian opens one of the drawers of his heavy, ornate desk and takes out a stack of every drawing she has made and left behind since marrying him.

And then there is an afternoon, a golden hour of utter stillness and the scent of bread not baked quite right, a hushed hour in which she can hear the sound of her fingers counting the vertebrae in Killian’s spine, a muted hour in which she can see the white indentations that remain for three, four, five seconds after Killian’s fingers release her hip, an hour in a very distinct palette of colours against which the black and grey in Killian’s hair stands out sharply, the pink of her nails as she slips her hot hands through it again and again, an hour outside of time in which she feels her spine curve to a point after which there should be no coming back and it’s only Killian’s knees at the small of her back and his stump around her waist that keep her from breaking clean in half, an hour of nothingness in which they only talk against skin and right into each other’s throats, an hour of everything in which she thinks she touches every bit of skin that is Killian’s.

It’s an unremarkable afternoon and an hour the kind of which has ticked away again and again.

But that’s the afternoon she thinks about weeks later, when Ruby comes up with a hot water bottle and cloths and a change of clothes that Emma finds herself not needing.

*****

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Weapons of Haearn - Part 2

Haearn crafted items are highly sought after with most never actually seeing one in their lifetime.  This has led to rumours and myths spreading throughout the broken lands as to what these weapons can actually do.  Many say that the wielders of these weapons become great warriors overnight, while others believe that not just anyone can unlock their full potential.  However, there is one thing that is common between every wielder...their lives are often cut short....  

Sergeant Dorrell was a Nuxvarian Soldier in service to King Dorian through the years 735 PA - 742 PA.  She served as a faithful right hand to Captain Mayweather and had been commended for her bravery on the battlefield several times.  Her skill with both sword and shield was regarded as exceptional and her troops were known to be loyal to a fault. She was a good leader and many saw greatness in her future, to the point it was believed she would someday be Mayweather’s successor. 

“Sergeant Dorrell is a fine woman, there’s no one else I’d rather have by my side in a fight.  She even took the time to train me individually, though her patience does wear thin at times, she gets the best out of us and never asks us to do anything she herself wouldn’t.” - Bilswick, a soldier under Dorrell’s command. (739 PA)

Dorrell would not speak much of her personal life with her squad, despite numerous attempts to discover more about her.  Although it was discovered that she was in a relationship with a man named Dastan, a fellow soldier that was stationed in her battalion.  He was not the most skilled warrior or even the most charismatic, but Dorrell saw a kindness in him, a rare trait throughout Dorrell’s life as a soldier, it was something she gravitated towards and regarded highly amongst people, something that she desperately needed to keep her grounded. By all accounts they were deeply in love and on more than one occasion soldiers had walked in on the two caught in compromising situations.

“I have some spare time after my second training session.  Meet me in the armoury.  Make sure you aren’t followed this time, I would prefer it if we weren’t interrupted again.  I would also like not to be reprimanded by the Captain.” -  A letter from Dorrell to Dastan. (740 PA)

Even though the relationship wasn’t strictly in breach of any military law, their union was still frowned upon by Dorrell’s superiors.  It was believed that a commanding officer could not be unbiased towards their subordinate if the two were pursuing a romantic entanglement. Dorrell was determined to be promoted to captain and her relationship with Dastan hindered this greatly.  Knowing this, the two of them decided to keep their love a secret moving forward and act as though they were just soldier and sergeant (they aren’t officers unless you want to change her to Lieutenant).  However, one night Dorrell would propose they both get married in secret and commit heart, soul and body to each other. 

“I had never seen two people more excited to be wed, they even had the ceremony performed while they were fully clad in heavy armour.  It was a simple and quick event, with the only witness being myself, I believe they wanted to keep the whole thing a secret.  As soon as I finished the closing sentiments the two kissed and rushed off into the night, with huge smiles on their faces.” -  Priest of the Church of Galon. (741 PA)

Dorrell was soon approached by Captain Mayweather, with news that she was likely to succeed him as captain as he was getting old and would look to retire soon.  Mayweather unsheathed a luxurious blade and Dorrell looked on in awe as it glistened in the sunlight.  The Captain explained to her that the blade's name is Cariad, so named as it would protect the wielder as if it were a lover, and was ceremoniously passed down from captain to captain, and holds extraordinary power.  Mayweather sheathed the blade once more. Dorrell, more determined than ever to prove herself, led multiple incursions into enemy territory, in an attempt to push back the invading and corrupting force, the Oerkith. 

“The Oerkith are  base and vile, they worship the god Marwolaeth and spread corruption and disease wherever they go.  They have the ability to destroy one's soul whilst  leaving the body intact, allowing them to be used as thralls for their own personal use.  Do not underestimate them, I value you far too much to lose you now.” - Captain Mayweather to Sergeant Dorrell (741 PA)

Dorrell led an unsanctioned raid to destroy an Oerkith camp that had settled too close to Nuxvar, in an attempt to progress her road to Captaincy and impress her superiors.  Acting on word from her scouts Dorrell believed a swift attack would end the battle quickly, as the enemy was reportedly small in number.  When Dorrell and her squad arrived at the camp however, her scouts turned on her and attacked.  During the chaos that ensued Dorrell was knocked unconscious, and her men did what they could to get her out of there alive.  Dastan and a small group of brave warriors elected to stay behind and cover the retreat so that the others could get Dorrell to safety.  When Dorrell awoke, she was back in the city of Nuxvar with Captain Mayweather at her side. Despite her injuries Dorrell leapt  to her feet in a panic and Captain Mayweather was forced to physically restrain her as he told her what happened.  She pleaded with the Captain to give her men so she could go back out there to rescue her men that were captured, and to save her husband.  Mayweather however, deemed it too risky as they would anticipate another attack this soon and was unwilling to risk more lives for those he knew were already lost.

Dorrell was furious, her mind consumed with only one thought, she needed to save the man she loved, without him it just wasn’t worth it to her, the promotion, the sword, Nuxvar itself, none of it mattered if Dastan was not by her side.  She stormed out of the barracks determined to save her husband, by herself if she had to.  However, Dorrell was soon restrained by two of her own men, who were ordered by Captain Mayweather to detain her until she came to her senses and recognised the hopeless situation for what it was.  

“Please, you can’t do this!  You have to let me go! He needs me! Dastan needs me! I will never forgive you for this! Never! Let me go!” - Sergeant Dorrell (742)

That night, Captain Mayweather visited Dorrell while she was tied to her recovery bed.  Mayweather spoke to her about her duty, how she needed to forget the soldiers she lost and to move on. Soldiers are expendable in the face of war, and her men had done their duty.  Dorrell had been working on breaking free from her binds most of the day and now was close to breaking free, close to saving Dastan.  Captain Mayweather confessed to Dorrell that he had feelings for her ever since she joined the army and that's why he promoted her, in an attempt to spend more time with and get closer to her.  Mayweather began  to run his hand up her leg and brushed hair from her face.  He told her that he knew about Dastan how they had never ended their relationship, but that now that he was gone they were free to be together.  A wild fury built up inside Dorrell as Mayweather leaned in to kiss her.  Instead of Dorrell’s soft lips however, Mayweather was greeted with a forceful headbutt and in one ferocious motion, Dorrell broke free from her binds.  While Mayweather was reeling from the blow, Dorrell drew Cariad from its sheath on Mayweather’s hip and thrust it through his unarmoured chest, killing him where he stood.  Dorrell spared no time on her former Captain’s bloodied corpse and instead took Cariad and snuck her way out of the infirmary and out of Nuxvar.  

Dorrell was solely focused on one goal, get to the Oerkith camp and save Dastan, and she would kill any that got in her way.  She stole a horse from the nearby stable and began her ride to the encampment.  Fuelled by a rage and fear for Dastans life, Dorrell rode through the night until she reached her destination.  In the early hours of the morning Dorrell arrived, and without a second thought she rode her horse in a full charge towards her enemies.  Holding Cariad high above her head and screaming a bloodcurdling battle cry, the sergeant charged headfirst into the enemy lines.  Blinded by fear and rage, while Cariad burned with a white hot flame, Dorrell cut down her enemies in swathes, all who were brave, or foolish, enough to engage the woman were slain, slaughtered as if they were no more than cattle at market. Dorrell was relentless, never easing the bloody path she carved through the Oerkith, until none in the camp still drew breath.  Blood soaked and panting she stood there, among a field of fallen Oerkith, bodies littered the ground as if tossed by a careless hand, and the great sword Cariad was still clutched in her hand.  Dorrell frantically searched the camp for Dastan, inside every tent and cage, leaving no stone unturned,  until she eventually found him.  Hunched over in a cage Dastan sat there, quiet and unmoving.  Durrell opened the cage with trepidation and rushed to his side. Worry ate at her insides as she took in her husband’s unmoving form, Dorrell knew what the Oerkith were capable of, what they turned men into. This thing, for it was no longer a  person, was also no longer her husband and her worst fears had been realised. Dastan’s eyes were a dull white, blank, seeing but not understanding, there was no light, no warmth as it took in the form of his wife.  Dorrell desperately tried to get him to remember, to react in any way, but it was for naught,  his soul was gone. Everything that made Dastan who he was, his kindness, his love, had all been stolen from him, stripped until he was no more but a husk.  

Durrell began to weep, for she had lost her husband, to a fate many considered worse than death, and now she must end his suffering, for it was kinder to kill him than allow him to dwell on in this unfeeling form.  Dorrell lifted Cariad and pulled Dastan into her last loving embrace, gently Dorrell thrust Cariad through Dastan’s heart, quick and clean, he would feel but a slight pinch before he left this world.  Dorrell stayed with her husband, but she did not weep as she had no tears left to shed, and cremated Dastan’s body, along with the remains of her brave soldiers, upon a nearby hill as the sun rose on a new day. Bathed in the warm light of the sun Dorrell said her last goodbyes.  Dorrell then disappeared into the wilderness, Cariad in hand. Some say she went off to die, her heart broken and nothing left to live for, but many others disagree, they say Dorrell and Cariad still roam this land, hunting Oerkith and other manner of dark creatures, ridding the world of evil, driven by an unquenchable fury. They say Dorrell is waiting for the day she is released from her torment by a worthy challenger, one who possesses the ability to wield Cariad.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG157! ;___;

- … I’d been making fun of the fact that The Corruption was the unloved Fear of season 4, since we hadn’t had any statement since MAG103… and consecutively, we got a small talk about Jane Prentiss at the end of MAG152, a Corruption statement in MAG153, and now… another one, which dealt with an identified avatar, and was, I felt, the most gruesome Corruption one we ever had. Somethingsomething about how season 4 is the “be careful what you wish for” season, uh. (Well. You never wish for a Corruption statement, you mostly note that there hasn’t been one for a while.)

Jon was suspecting that Jane Prentiss’s attack on the Institute had been a ritual attempt:

(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … It’s all that left of her now. Apart from a… jar of ashes in my desk. Just a circle of rotten stone on an otherwise… unremarkable wall. HELEN: More of a legacy than some people get. ARCHIVIST: … It was meant to be a gate, I think. A hole that she… rotted into The Corruption itself. Maybe the start of a ritual. HELEN: Hm. Not exactly impressive, is it? ARCHIVIST: Less complex, certainly. But I think that’s the thing about– … what did Elias call it… “Filth”. I don’t think it really plans much. It just starts to grow wherever it can get a foothold and… if no one stomps it out in time: Game Over. […] I’ve been wondering what they were doing down here.

And it’s a bit terrifying to think that technically, Jane Prentiss was quite… low scale, in the harm she did during the attack on the Institute, compared to what we saw in “Love Bombing” (a whole cult minus one getting eradicated) and Amherst’s actions (contaminating the entirety of Ivy Meadows, and it probably could have spread through Nicole Baxter if she hadn’t lost/cut her hand, and eradicating the entire population of Klanxbüll):

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I knew at that moment that there was nothing that could be done to save the town. […] I found the source of this sickness in the Parkplatz opposite the train station. The cars had been pushed to the side, clearly at great cost to the bodies of those that pushed them. And in the centre was a figure from whom the rot clearly flowed. He was sat upon a most dreadful throne, formed from a dozen, two dozen bodies mixed together like putty, eyes staring out like horror-stricken stars twinkling in the night – and their hearts beating for all to see. A moaning came from that awful seat, voices trying to scream through things that weren’t their throat – and it is a sound I shall be glad to leave behind me when I go to my rest.”

What kind of music was Amherst hearing in his dreams, to go for mass-damage like this every few years? Ivy Meadows happened during summer 2011 or 2012 (dates were a bit inconsistent in MAG036 itself, Elias said in June 2017 that it had been “five years” since the death of Melanie’s father), Amherst’s actions in Klanxbüll happened in 2013, that’s… such a short span to cause so much damage… ;; Really hoping that this concrete lasts forever ;;

- Chronology time, regarding Adelard’s actions since we began hearing about him in season 2:

* 06/02/1991 or 06/07/1991: Adelard had left a statement about the “NotThem”, calling it as such. Although it was referenced in MAG077, Jon explained in MAG078 that he had found another statement in the file:

(MAG077) GERTRUDE: Based on the interactions and effects, I suspect this to be the creature that Adelard Dekker refers to as the “NotThem” in statement 9910607. […] Based on Dekker’s statement, it would seem Polaroids are also relatively stable.

(MAG078) ARCHIVIST: I found this in the folder marked 9910602, where Gertrude’s tape had indicated I would find the statement of Dekker himself. There is nothing else in there, but I think it tells me what I need to know. This thing, this… “Not Sasha”… it’s tied to the table.

(… With an inconsistency regarding the month. Either Gertrude messed up (unlikely.), either Jonny messed up, either Jon messed up in his panic and fortunately still found a Not!Them-related statement despite going for the wrong file with the wrong month.)

* Sometime between 1991 and 1996 (since Eric knew Elias but didn’t know he had become Head before his own quitting&getting murdered): Adelard was identifiable as Gertrude’s collaborator and, amongst other things, threw a “screaming box” in the Thames:

(MAG154) ERIC: She never played dumb when I was stalked by bloated, blood-sucking things, or told me I was “imagining it” when I saw your friend Adelard drop a screaming box into the Thames.

* 04/11/1996: Gertrude recorded Lucy Cooper’s statement (given in September 1994) about the Not!Them taking her mother’s place. In her Final Comments, she mentioned a statement previously left by Adelard:

(MAG077) GERTRUDE: Based on the interactions and effects, I suspect this to be the creature that Adelard Dekker refers to as the “NotThem” in statement 9910607. If the pattern of behaviour is consistent with what he establishes, then further follow-up on this case is pointless: the thing has finished with the Cooper family and will not be revisiting them. It rarely seems to stay in the same place or with the same people for long, though it’s hard to guess at its motives. Personally, I suspect it to be an aspect of The Stranger, though that’s entirely conjecture at this point. […] It is at least reassuring to know that magnetic tape seems to escape being overwritten, so if I get changed, you can be sure this is my real voice. Based on Dekker’s statement, it would seem Polaroids are also relatively stable.

* Shortly before 12/06/2001: Lawrence Moore’s statement described Adelard Dekker, binding the Not!Them to the Web table which had previously been in Raymond Fielding’s ownership at Hill Top Road until the 70s. We don’t know how Adelard acquired the table, nor what happened to explain that he left without it and that Breekon&Hope were the ones to retrieve it afterwards:

(MAG078, Lawrence Moore) “He was black, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a thin necktie. For a moment I had the idea he might be a Jehovah’s Witness, but one look at his face dispelled that idea immediately. It was hard and stern, set in look of determination, and his short hair was iron grey. He was very thin, with aging skin stretched tight over wiry, corded muscle, and though he was slightly shorter than I was, it seemed like he towered over me. He asked if I knew the man who had left my house earlier that evening. […] At this, the old man’s eyes lit up with excitement, and I took an involuntary step back. If he noticed, he didn’t show it, walking past me into the house and ordering me to get any photos that hadn’t changed. […] He told me his name was Adelard Dekker, and that he was an exorcist, of sorts. […] Adelard Dekker stood in the corner. He was straight and motionless, his lips moving rapidly, though no sound came out of them. In the centre of the room, next to the empty box, stood a table carved from dark wood and wrapped all over with a sprawling, intricate pattern. And in front of that table was the thing that had said it was my cousin. It was long and thin, the tops of it bent against the ceiling and its stick-like limbs flailed from too many joints and elbows. Wrapped around it were thick strands of what I think was spider’s web, stretching back into the table, which I now saw pulsed along its carved channels with a sickly light. The face at the top of that gangly frame was like nothing on earth. […] I didn’t return to my house until the next morning. Dekker’s blue van was gone, and in its place was another one, dirty white. There was something printed on the side, but I couldn’t make it out under the grime. I watched two men in overalls carry that same box out of my house, load it up, and drive away. That was about two months ago, and it was the last time I saw them, the table, Adelard Dekker or the thing that wasn’t my cousin.”

(MAG079) NOT!SASHA: Once upon a time there was a monster, but no one realised. Sometimes someone did and then they were scared, so that was good. But one day a nasty man came along. A nasty man who tricked the monster and wrapped it all in webs and tied it to a table. So the monster got its friends to carry the table all around, and it still got to take faces and scare people.

* 22/01/2006: Adelard sent a letter to Gertrude regarding Garland Hillier’s disappearance in 1867 (the year of Robert Smirke’s death…) and describing Bernadette Delcour’s discovery of his old sealed flat, leading to an encounter with the Inheritors from The Extinction.

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “Sorry I can’t be there in person to go over all this with you. I still have a few things to clear off over here, but I thought it would be best to let you know as soon as possible. I am now certain my theory is correct: there is something new emerging. A fifteenth Power. […] Now I know what you’re going to say, Gertrude: odd doors are signs of The Spiral, empty worlds tend towards The Lonely, and eschatology is almost literally the study of The End. But this is different. I feel it. This Fear is new. This is a fear of extinction. Of change. It used to be part of The End, perhaps, when The End of humanity was to be the end of all things; but now, the fear is not of a rapture or a revelation; it is of catastrophic change. A change in our world that will wipe out what it means to be “us”, and leave something else in its place. […] These are new fears, Gertrude, and a new Power is rising to consume them. The Extinction. The Terrible Change. The-Future-Without-Us. […] I know you don’t credit my theories, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty to say on this one, but I’m going to need your help with this at some point – I’m sure of it. I don’t know how you can stop the birth of something that has no life, or mind, or… substance, but if anyone can figure it out, it’s you. I’ve never met anyone so gifted at understanding that… strange, dream logic of the Fears, and if what I suspect about this new Power is true, it could be catastrophic. Until then, I’ll keep searching for evidence, trying to find… instances and manifestations of The Extinction. I’ll keep you updated.”

* October 2008: Dekker had helped Gertrude stop The Flesh’s ritual – suggesting she use explosives? Providing them? Helping her set them up in the gnostic church?

(MAG130) GERTRUDE: When I heard there’d been survivors of “The Last Feast”, I was rather concerned that one of them might be able to positively identify me, [CHUCKLE] which could land me in all sorts of trouble! But she doesn’t seem to remember me at all. […] Dekker really came through with the explosives! It almost felt like cheating. Sad about the loss of history but Miss Wright didn’t seem to think the old Gnostic church got many visitors anyway. […] At least we know for sure that these “grand rituals” can be disrupted by conventional means, though a more… nuanced approach will be needed for some of them, I’m sure. Also… I can’t rely on having this much lead time.

* 04/01/2009: Adelard sent a letter to Gertrude describing an unnamed man’s experience in the Bright Lake amusement park in Colorado, with something Adelard identified as an Extinction occurrence.

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Gertrude; I wanted your opinion on an encounter I’ve had described to me recently, and given your recent dealing with Viscera, I would very much value your input. Good job on that, by the way […]. So: what are your thoughts? I’m keen to hear your own interpretation of this account. My first assumption would have been The Flesh, based on the cannibalism and strangeness of the bodies involved, but… something about this idea of some sort of “famine world”, its location within a made-man ruin, the whole… societal aspect of it… I’d be inclined to chalk this up as a genuine Extinction manifestation. But I don’t know. Am I drawing wild conclusions, trying to fit the account into my own preconceptions? Keen to know your feelings on the matter.”

(* 03/10/2009: Gary Boylan gave his statement to the Institute, about the destruction of his village following a signal he had deciphered. No mention of Adelard Dekker in the notes.)

* Undated letter, likely circa 2012: Adelard sent a statement to Gertrude about an avatar of The End encountered when he was tracking The Extinction (without naming it), through a string of people dying by carbon monoxide poisoning in their sleep. Adelard also mentioned that Gertrude had asked him to move out some plastic explosives (he hadn’t been her provider, Gertrude had got them elsewhere).

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “I was pursuing my researches into the new emergence I mentioned earlier. I know you are dismissive of the possibility, but if I’m right, the sudden urgency of these “immediate dangers” you are so focused on could very well be a direct result. But that’s for another day, as this particular instance turned out to be unconnected. The point is, I was alerted to a series of deaths by a coroner friend of mine. […] I don’t know if my little “theoretical” is strong enough yet to start taking avatars, but this one, as you’ve no doubt guessed, turned out to be Terminus.”

* 13/05/2013: Judith O’Neill gave her statement about (mostly) unmoving creatures made of garbage, killing a researcher. Judith had been explicitly sent by Adelard:

(MAG149) MARTIN: There’s… hum, a, a note here as well. [PAPER RUSTLING] Looks like Gertrude’s handwriting? Start of a letter to… Dekker, thanking him for sending Judith to her, though… it doesn’t look like it was ever finished or sent. [PAPER RUSTLING] I assume this is another one he was trying to use to prove The Extinction? It… certainly has something in it. Mankind’s trash giving rise to something terrible. And again, fear of the other, inanimate humanoid figures. That’s all very… Stranger, isn’t it?

* Before August 2013: Adelard had apparently been the one to suggest explosives to disrupt The Unknowing. Gertrude made the following comment on 09/10/2014:

(MAG137) GERTRUDE: Another one to cross off the list. Doesn’t help with The Unknowing, though. [HEAVY SIGH] We still have Dekker’s back-up plan, of course, but… it’s very risky. To be sure, I–I think the detonation would need to happen from within The Unknowing, while it was going on.

* 14/08/2013: Adelard Dekker sent an email to Gertrude regarding his suspicion about an Extinction activity in the town of Klanxbüll, which turned out to be the work of John Amherst, from The Corruption. Adelard was poisoned during the fight, and told Gertrude what had happened and how he was choosing to die, ultimately expressing doubts about the reality or the shape of The Extinction:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “You must forgive me, Gertrude, for any typing and spelling errors that might be in this message. My hands are shaking quite badly and my fingers… aren’t what they were. […] But I shall not wait for it to putrefy as the rot overtakes me. I have dragged those other afflicted I could find into the Parkplatz, laid them at the feet of that appalling throne, and… taken the last gifts of that… generous construction site: a dozen cans of petrol. I will sit upon that seat, and release these poor souls from their suffering. [INHALE] And hopefully make things simpler, for the ECDC clean-up crews. But it did not seem quite right to leave without letting you know what happened. And… Herr [Becker?] was kind enough to succumb to the sickness without signing out of his computer, so… perhaps you were right about The Extinction. I’ve been hunting it for decades now, and… while I have seen evidence of its influence in other Powers, I have never found anything to genuinely prove its emergence as a true Power of its own. Perhaps it is an existential fear that flows through the others like a vein of ore; or perhaps the birth of such things is longer and more complicated than I believed.  For all that though, I cannot regret the time I have spent seeking it. I have done my duty; and none may ask more of me.”

So… although he sounds absolutely dead-dead, I don’t think this is the last we’re hearing from Adelard. I guess it could be possible that he had just left the Web table binding the Not!Them behind him around 2001 (though quite uncharacteristic), but we’re still missing his statement from 1991, and given that Jon had acknowledged that he hadn’t found Dekker’s own statement, I think it’s safe to assume that we could be hearing about it later (in season 5? Or in MAG160, as a “closure” to Dekker’s own story and investigations, since he was quite important through season 4?), in a written statement or through a recording with Gertrude.

- I’m a bit interrogative about the way Adelard mentioned his investigations regarding The Extinction:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “… perhaps you were right about The Extinction. I’ve been hunting it for decades now, and… while I have seen evidence of its influence in other Powers, I have never found anything to genuinely prove its emergence as a true Power of its own. Perhaps it is an existential fear that flows through the others like a vein of ore; or perhaps the birth of such things is longer and more complicated than I believed. ”

Because the earliest he tried to summarise and essentialise what he felt was the New Power, labelling it “The Extinction”, was in 2006 (MAG134), so only seven years before his death. Was he exaggerating when he said “decades”? Or will we learn more about his genesis, as an addendum, and it was truly a long-time conviction / a dissatisfaction with Smirke’s categorisation? I had already noticed that it was strange (ha) that, although the Not!Them presented itself as a creature from The Stranger (or at least allied to it), the earliest things we know about Adelard was that he was after it… when his description of The Extinction feels very close to some of the Not!Them’s effects (although in lower scales, for the latter); so maybe he had trouble categorising the Not!Them, back then, hence his conviction that a New Power might have been emerging…? Adelard also used some of the names inherited from Smirke’s work:

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “There was… an inevitability to his movements, and I think that is when I realised he was simply serving The End, which I won’t pretend wasn’t a disappointment.”

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “Now I know what you’re going to say, Gertrude: odd doors are signs of The Spiral, empty worlds tend towards The Lonely, and eschatology is almost literally the study of The End. But this is different. I feel it.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “So: what are your thoughts? I’m keen to hear your own interpretation of this account. My first assumption would have been The Flesh, based on the cannibalism and strangeness of the bodies involved, but…”

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I’ve spoken before about how keenly I have watched news of possible pandemics, which is where I suspect The Extinction may pull away from The Corruption during its emergence. […] So, it seemed it was not The Extinction as I had anticipated but simply a new and awful strain of Corruption.”

But he was also occasionally labelling them in unique ways:

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “I don’t know if my little “theoretical” is strong enough yet to start taking avatars, but this one, as you’ve no doubt guessed, turned out to be Terminus.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “I wanted your opinion on an encounter I’ve had described to me recently, and given your recent dealing with Viscera, I would very much value your input.”

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I have spoken to you before of Christabel, my… contact within the ECDC. She had a run-in with the Crawling Rot some decades ago, and has since then kept me up to date with any incidents they have encountered which display “unusual” properties.”

(Though that last one was also used by Arthur Nolan in MAG145: “Found a mass of the Crawling Rot growing, a while back. Managed to get a hold of the property before it became too big. Gotta wait ‘til it blossoms before we can properly burn it.”)

It is curious that, of all people, we didn’t get Adelard’s story of his first few years, how he came in contact with the Powers, with Gertrude, why/how he came to tracking down avatars, so I think there is a good chance we could get a statement about it, indeed. After all, we keep hearing stories of/from people who have been dead for a while; what I’m curious is when/how it could be done in a way that would “add” something else to the current storyline, if we’re done with The Extinction after the season 4 finale…? (Unless we aren’t.) Or it could be about categorising, or the concept of “Faith” against the Fears, I guess.

- There is something heart-breaking putting together his ways of addressing Gertrude in his messages:

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “Gertrude; Sorry I can’t be there in person to go over all this with you. I still have a few things to clear off over here, but I thought it would be best to let you know as soon as possible. […] I’ll keep you updated. Stay safe. Adelard.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “Gertrude; I wanted your opinion on an encounter I’ve had described to me recently, and given your recent dealing with Viscera, I would very much value your input. Good job on that, by the way; I’m sure the gnostic temple was a great loss culturally speaking, but I can’t help but admire your directness when it comes to dealing with this sort of thing. […] So: what are your thoughts? I’m keen to hear your own interpretation of this account. […] Keen to know your feelings on the matter. […] Oh – one more thing: if you do try to follow up with my source – and I know you have your own ways of finding him should you wish – please be careful. He told me, near the end, that he had recently been worried he was being followed. He keeps catching glimpses of a thin figure in the distance, or disappearing around a corner, and I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return. If my suspicions are correct, there’s little either of us could do for him; but do take care, should you make contact.”

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “Gertrude; It should all be here, though god knows I was tempted to take a block for myself just in case. […] Anyway, you owe me a favour. And… maybe another one once you read this. It might come to nothing, but it’s something you should probably be aware of. […] I’m sure you can take care of yourself, of course, but I thought it would be worth letting you know. Good luck, Gertrude. And enjoy the fireworks.”

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “You must forgive me, Gertrude, for any typing and spelling errors that might be in this message. […] This is the last time you will hear from me. You must trust me on that and not come looking. Not that you would; I know you’re too smart for sentimentality, especially after what I have to tell you, but I feel it worth saying nonetheless. […] I’ve wondered, Gertrude, whether you are truly as fearless as you seem; or if you are simply a master of disguising your terror…! I suppose I’ll never have a chance to find out. I rather hope it was the former. However much I disagree with some of your methods, it feels good to believe there are people in this world who can stare down the devil without flinching. […] But it did not seem quite right to leave without letting you know what happened. And… Herr [Becker?] was kind enough to succumb to the sickness without signing out of his computer, so… […] I am proud of the work we have done, and it has been an honour to do it alongside you. Goodbye, Gertrude. May you find your rest where no shadows are cast… and no eyes may see you slumber.”

Politely beginning all his letters with “Gertrude”, except for the last one, which began with apologies. Ending each ones with little words of encouragements and concern (“Stay safe”, “do take care”, “good luck”)… up until that “goodbye” in the last one.

Something that MAG157 put into a new perspective, too: in MAG137, Gertrude had mentioned “Adelard’s back-up plan” to thwart The Unknowing. That recording had happened in October 2014; Adelard had been dead for more than a year at this point. When she sighed right before mentioning him, was it only a pragmatic sigh, linked to the fact that she was a bit at a loss to counter The Stranger? Or was it also because she had lost her closest ally, and someone she had been seeing as a friend despite herself, and who wasn’t there anymore…?

(And in the end, Gertrude didn’t have the time to stop The Unknowing and to follow through with Adelard’s plan. Jon, Tim and the others followed in her footsteps and, without knowing, also in Adelard’s, accomplishing the plans of two dead people…)

(- There is still The Mystery Of Gertrude’s Death and thinking again about MAG113 made me realise that, UHOH???

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “Anyway, you owe me a favour. And… maybe another one once you read this. It might come to nothing, but it’s something you should probably be aware of. […] I cannot make any guarantees Justin Gough will remain in the state I left him. And it seems that, as he deals in dreams, it may be worth your while to keep an eye on the statements you take, in case he finds his way here. I’m sure you can take care of yourself, of course, but I thought it would be worth letting you know.” […] ARCHIVIST: This was found tucked into a hard case containing… many blocks of plastic explosive, kept by Gertrude Robinson in a storage unit that I can only assume has… extremely lax oversight. It is unclear if she ever read it. […] I know there are more important things to be doing, but I did ask Basira to have a quick search for Justin Gough, see what might have happened to him. There are records of his residence in an East London care facility until 2015, when he disappears from their records. Several deaths among the staff apparently occurred at roughly the same time. And it will come as no surprise that the inquest returned a verdict of carbon monoxide poisoning in each case. I’m not too concerned, to be honest, my dreams are, uh... well, let’s just say I don’t think they're going be letting anyone else in any time soon.

… Adelard had explicitly warned her about an avatar from The End who dealt with dreams, who went loose again in 2015.

… And Jon wasn’t sure that Gertrude had read this message.

… And in March 2015, Oliver, End-touched person, soon to become avatar, had described his own dreams of Gertrude, terrified, being the target of the vines usually announcing people’s death…

We know that Gertrude didn’t die when she should have (she was still alive in April 2015, if she didn’t lie on the date), and Elias confessed to her murder, and she had plain mundane bullets in her body… But it’s actually extreeeemely suspicious that Justin Gough escaped the year she died? Was The End involved in her death a bit more actively than just through Oliver’s visions…? Or was Oliver’s vision the fate awaiting her if Justin had managed to kill her?)

- One Nice Thing (aesthetically) is that I really experienced Adelard’s realisation right along with him? I assumed that the town was under a new Extinction threat, assumed we were on the verge of meeting our first Extinction avatar… and then, as Adelard already introduced the idea that he had been Wrong and began describing the cause of the town’s downfall, I suddenly realised that OH NO, LANKY AND BROWN COAT, IS THAT–

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “No pale spectre in a lab coat, or twisted golem of petri dishes and test tubes. No; he was… lanky, wearing an ill-fitting brown suit and a smile. I’d never previously had the misfortune to meet him, but I knew the description well enough to recognise John Amherst.”

… and it was.

(MAG036, Nicole Baxter) “The door to the reception opened, and a tall man stepped out. He was rail thin and wore a faded brown suit that seemed to have been cut for a much fatter man. His eyes were a watery blue and his dark hair stood on top of his head in an unruly mess. He must have been around forty, but had a nervous sort of energy to him.”

(MAG055) JORDAN: He was tall, maybe 6ft5? But it was hard to be sure of his shape inside the huge, brown suit he was wearing.

(Extra funny thing is that “ill-fitting brown suit” + “a John” also feels really close to how Jon probably looks like from the outside.)

- I’m so sad for Adelard, but also so proud of him in a way?! It’s a really strange feeling because we’ve never heard him live (so far?), but he was still a reassuring figure in some way. I was anticipating that he could have snapped, because I Remember Oliver, but no: although he was giving up pretty fast when it came to saving their potential victims, Adelard was simply someone who would fight what he identified as evil, putting his life on the line when it came to stopping threatening avatars. It’s interesting to compare what we heard of him with Gertrude: Adelard was firm, a bit callous at time, but not keen on sacrificing people to reach his goals, and was personally involving himself in the cases he was investigating… to the cost of his own life, as it happened in MAG157. (So it was not “like Oliver”, it was “like Gerry”. If you like a character, and you feel like they could be helpful/do some good: either they’ve turned into a monster since then, either they’re dead. … Though, now: we… have no Characters Who Are Helping left still alive at the moment – hoping that it could mean that Team Archive will more or less try to go that way but ;; Not very optimistic about it.)

Adelard had expressed that he was afraid of the idea of dying in his sleep:

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “I’ll even make it a statement. Give your patron something to keep it satisfied. It’s not like I sleep enough to worry about dreams. […] It’s odd, isn’t it? Sleep. That you can never remember or fully pin down the exact moment you lose consciousness. Just lying there, waiting to find yourself in a dream without the first clue or interest in how or when you got there. Or to find your eyes closed and force them open to sunlight and morning, only realising that sleep has happened in retrospect. I wonder if… death is the same way? No clear dividing line, just… gone, only to realise after it’s happened, except for the fact that there isn’t an after. Is that a comforting thought or a terrifying one? Depends on who you are, I suppose. It bothered me when I was young. If I thought too hard about the concept of sleep, of exactly what it was, I would worry myself, and end up having to turn the light on, and read for an hour or two. Everyone always talks about how they want to die in their sleep, but honestly, I think that’s the death that scares me the most.”

So ;; Best outcome you can hope for really is dying on your own terms, uh. We got it with Tim, and Adelard got to face his own death awake, in a situation he chose to put himself in, also turning it in one last “good” action (putting an end to the suffering of the villagers who… indeed couldn’t be saved at this point):

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “This is the last time you will hear from me. […] Perhaps I’m simply prevaricating, trying to cling on to a few more precious minutes of life – but that’s not me. I know what awaits me, and must have no hesitation in going to my reward. [SCOFF] I know you’ve never had much patience for my faith, but perhaps it will provide you some small peace knowing I face my death gladly, knowing I have done my duty before God. […] For all that though, I cannot regret the time I have spent seeking it. I have done my duty; and none may ask more of me. I am proud of the work we have done, and it has been an honour to do it alongside you.”

“Faith” was present in more than one aspect in his last message: as his religion, which had driven him (and in hindsight, I realised that there had been a few words from that lexical field in his past statements) and in which he found comfort in his last moments; as his belief in Gertrude and their “work” together. And, in parallel, there was also a loss of faith, as he was hypothesising that he may have been wrong all along about The Extinction as a Fifteenth Power:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “so… perhaps you were right about The Extinction. I’ve been hunting it for decades now, and… while I have seen evidence of its influence in other Powers, I have never found anything to genuinely prove its emergence as a true Power of its own.”

So, it was a bittersweet ending, but one that didn’t feel utterly crushing either. On the one hand, it’s still a death; it’s upsetting that Adelard died while neutralising a dangerous menace who had caused harm to many people, it’s sad that his death was caused from a Corruption avatar while Adelard had been running after The Extinction all this time – he did something brave and amazing in his last actions, but it would have had more meaning, for him, if it had been against The Extinction… and precisely, John Amherst was a tipping point making Adelard lose faith in his theory. But it’s still honourable, and fits Adelard well, as someone who made that world a bit less dark, who was keeping in mind circumstantial victims without always getting lost in the Big Plans and the Big Picture like Gertrude:

(MAG078, Lawrence Moore) “Then he instructed me to go to my bedroom, and not to leave until he told me it was safe. I did protest at that, and I asked him how my locking myself upstairs would help save Carl. There was no sympathy in his voice when he told me my cousin was dead, that nothing would bring him back, and that my best chance to not join him was to stay in the bedroom until everything was over. He did not seem inclined to tell me what he meant by “everything”.”

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “I may try to interview her again later, though I have my suspicions she may find herself disappearing. She has that… quality about her, I’m sure you know what I mean, o–of an unfinished meal. And I can only hope that when the second course starts, she can remember her way back to Garland Hillier’s apartment once more.”

(MAG156, Adelard Dekker) “… Anyway, I was following up on a young man who had apparently had a nasty experience whilst exploring the ruins of the Bright Lake amusement park in Colorado. You will forgive me if I withhold his name, as I have all the verification I need to be convinced he’s telling the truth, and I find it hard to believe any follow-up you’d be interested in doing would be beneficial for him. He’s earned his anonymity. […] He keeps catching glimpses of a thin figure in the distance, or disappearing around a corner, and I can’t quite get past the detail that there was no reflection at all in the mirror he used to return. If my suspicions are correct, there’s little either of us could do for him […].”

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “I think that is when I realised he was simply serving The End, which I won’t pretend wasn’t a disappointment. But still, I thought if I could deal with him and save a few lives, I might as well. […] I was not quick enough to save the man who lived in that house. Truth be told, I didn’t especially try. I didn’t think I would be able to move quick enough to do so, and was more concerned with being quiet and thorough. […] I knew it wouldn’t kill him, he’s too far from human for me to do so, but I thought that scrambling his brain a bit was probably my best bet. And I was right, as far as it goes. He survived what I did to him, and when the police picked him up after an ‘anonymous tip’ about a break-in, he was barely able to speak, and I very much hope I managed to sever his dreams.”

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I knew at that moment that there was nothing that could be done to save the town. But I could perhaps identify the cause – and identify it I did. […] So, it seemed it was not The Extinction as I had anticipated but simply a new and awful strain of Corruption. Still. It was not something I felt I could leave to run its course unopposed. […] I have dragged those other afflicted I could find into the Parkplatz, laid them at the feet of that appalling throne, and… taken the last gifts of that… generous construction site: a dozen cans of petrol. I will sit upon that seat, and release these poor souls from their suffering. [INHALE] And hopefully make things simpler, for the ECDC clean-up crews.”

And it’s so soft that his last words were for Gertrude, not berating her, but almost… comforting her?

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “For all that though, I cannot regret the time I have spent seeking it. I have done my duty; and none may ask more of me. I am proud of the work we have done, and it has been an honour to do it alongside you. Goodbye, Gertrude. May you find your rest where no shadows are cast… and no eyes may see you slumber.”

(Wishing her the best, uh. I can read the mention of “shadows” as innocuous, but I also wonder if it might not be a direct reference to something of Gertrude’s personal history with The Dark?)

(- I also mean: gdi, what is it with season 4 and the way it’s offering me New Ships For Gertrude. We got Gertrude/Agnes, a bit of Web/Gertrude, I was wondering if she didn’t used to have some Feelings for Eric, now I’m REALLY digging Gertrude/Adelard, gdi.)

- Adelard died in August 2013, Gerry in late 2014. Gertrude had previously lost Michael sometime after late 2009 (MAG126 mentioned the upcoming “Great Twisting”), although in his case, she had minutely planned his sacrifice. I’m not sure Leitner was a good judge of character (was Leitner good at… anything.), but he had gotten the feeling that she was getting lonely:

(MAG080) LEITNER: I think she was lonely. I didn’t meet her until about six years ago, after she’d lost the last of her own assistants. She would mention them sometimes. I believe she missed having someone to talk to on occasion. ARCHIVIST: I… I didn’t know Gertrude had assistants. LEITNER: Of course. Three of them, each meeting an unpleasant end.

(During her last year, Leitner was apparently her last “ally”. That’s telling how low she was, and how bad the situation was, I guess.)

Those were rough years for Gertrude, uh? I wonder how much Adelard’s death impacted her – if she took it in stride, or if it almost made her crumble; they had been allied for at least twenty years, at this point, and it really sounded like she trusted him; there was a very specific enthusiasm when she mentioned the explosives stopping The Last Feast in MAG130?

… on the less bright side, I wonder if Adelard’s death was what pushed her to try and seek out Gerry? She had promised to find him in August 2008:

(MAG154) ERIC: I want you to find my son. If Mary is… if she’s gone, or worse… I want you to make sure he’s alright. GERTRUDE: [HUFF] I’m not exactly a mother figure. ERIC: You could hardly do worse than her. GERTRUDE: Fine. But I don’t know what growing up with Mary has done to him. If he’s… gone rotten, I can’t promise anything. ERIC: I understand. GERTRUDE: I suppose he might be useful. ERIC: Oh, sentimental as ever.

But we know she didn’t do it right away:

(MAG111) GERRY: In the end it was Gertrude who saved me. She came to me when I was desperate, nowhere to go, and she offered to help. […] I think you know the rest. I joined Gertrude’s work for a few years. Didn’t realise how ill I was until it finally caught up with me. Then I died.

Gerry mentioned that they had worked together for “a few years”, but Mary Keay ~died~ in 2008 according to MAG004 and haunted Gerry for “five years” according to him in MAG111, so that would put Gertrude finding him around 2013 – so, they worked together for a bit less than two years, before Gerry died. It could be that Adelard’s death was the reason why Gertrude finally decided to honour the promise she had made to Eric, and if so, yikes. Still utilitarian until the end, uh.

(Though: did Gerry remind her of Adelard, at least a bit, in the way he was waving his way through the Fears and neutralising supernatural occurrences and/or begrudgingly helping people to get out…?)

(- Adelard wondering about whether or not Gertrude felt fear reminded me of Arthur’s comment about it:

(MAG145) ARTHUR: [SCOFF] Yeah. … But you don’t actually care about Them, do you? […] All your energy is focused down here, on monsters and… murderers, and all the things doing the dirty work for Them Beyond. You know plenty, sure! But you don’t have that obsession, that stupid urge to try and understand and… classify things that use logic and reality like weapons. GERTRUDE: Hm. Per–perhaps. ARTHUR: [CHUCKLE] Always respected you for that. Takes a strong stomach to not give a shit. GERTRUDE: Eh! You’ll forgive me if I’m not overjoyed at the compliment?

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I’ve wondered, Gertrude, whether you are truly as fearless as you seem; or if you are simply a master of disguising your terror…! I suppose I’ll never have a chance to find out. I rather hope it was the former. However much I disagree with some of your methods, it feels good to believe there are people in this world who can stare down the devil without flinching. [SHORT SNEER]”

And 1°) it obviously puts Georgie to mind, though in her case, her inability to feel fear was inflicted on her, and 2°) … Oliver had seen Gertrude terrorised in his dreams:

(MAG011, “Antonio Blake”) “Getting closer I realised that there was a person sitting at that desk and it was them that all of this scarlet light was flowing into. I could see none of the figure’s body beneath the flesh that enclosed them, but as I moved around I saw the face was uncovered. It was your face and the expression upon it was far more fearful than any I had seen in eight years of wandering this twilight city. That was when I awoke. […] If you do see this in time and read this far, then to be honest I don’t know what else to tell you. Be careful. There is something coming for you and I don’t know what it is, but it is so much worse than anything I can imagine. At the very least you should look into appointing a successor.”

… so I don’t think Gertrude couldn’t feel it, which means she was probably just really good at hiding it. On the other hand, creature and monsters feel fears and are fed by it, so would it even be possible to fool them if she wasn’t truly fearless?)

- ;; Something bittersweet, too, is that… Gertrude apparently Learned from Adelard and took a page from his book when it came to concrete:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I can’t deny some pride in my solution, Gertrude. In all our discussions of how to contain a being that we could not destroy… I’m not sure we ever hit on a method quite so neat…! I am no builder but, by the end, I think you would have been hard-pressed to criticise how well that concrete had been laid – and Amherst four feet beneath it.”

(MAG103, Dylan Anderson) “If you hadn’t turned up that evening, I don’t know what I’d have done. I know a monster pig wasn’t what you were looking for, but I do appreciate your advice. When you explained the situation, I hoped you’d have some special trick for dealing with it, but I suppose welding scrap metal around the pen and filling it with cement just about works, even if I do owe Mason a favour for borrowing his mixer. I’d have thought the thing would at least try to break free while I did it, but… thank heaven for small mercies, I suppose. A huge block of solid concrete. What ought to do with it? Some sort of engraving, maybe?”

Monster Pig happened in July 2014, so eleven months after Adelard’s message. And Jon had also noticed that Gertrude’s computer had receipts involving “petrol”:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “I have dragged those other afflicted I could find into the Parkplatz, laid them at the feet of that appalling throne, and… taken the last gifts of that… generous construction site: a dozen cans of petrol.”

(MAG066) ARCHIVIST: There’s also the matter of the products she was ordering. There were several online orders of petrol, lighter fluid, pesticides, and high-powered torches. They are sporadic, but notable in that she did not drive, smoke or work in pest control.

… So maybe it was also an idea she got from Adelard’s last actions. Utilitarian, and/or an homage, in a way.

- I’m also HUMMMM re:Adelard, because if there is one thing that’s been recurring when he was depicted fighting avatars or monsters, it’s that he tended to notice what he could use in his surroundings and improvise a lot…

(MAG113, Adelard Dekker) “Truth be told, I didn’t especially try. I didn’t think I would be able to move quick enough to do so, and was more concerned with being quiet and thorough. The cutlery drawer was largely empty, but after a minute’s searching I did find what I was after: a long, metal skewer. Did you know there are certain forms of brain injury that cut you off from your ability to dream?”

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “At first, I was struck almost with despair, having nothing to hand with which I might attempt a confrontation with this creature. But upon retreating some ways, and considering my options, I realised I actually had… almost the exact resources to hand that I might need. A few minutes spent scouting the surrounding streets even revealed a small construction site, almost precisely suited to my requirements. I returned to the cordon and took what I needed: a stretcher, as many quarantine sleeves as I could carry, and a syringe. […] I loaded the gear into a wheelbarrow I had taken from the building site along with a thick metal chain, and began to head back towards the Parkplatz, stopping only to fill the syringe from a can of garden pesticide I had noticed during my earlier sweep of the houses. […] I dragged the thing over to the building site, and with the last of my strength threw him into the hole that had been left. By this point, the concrete truck I had turned on earlier had been mixing for some time, and it was a simple matter to open the pump and… pour the contents of its hopper down on top of him.”

And isn’t it a bit like Basira?

(MAG142) MARTIN: Would have thought Basira would’ve had more sense, though. DAISY: When Basira and I were partners, I’d see this happen sometimes. She can read a… situation like no one I know, always seems to know the right move, but for all her research, she never wants to put a plan together. I think she just hates all the unknowns, the… variables. [SIGH] Contingencies. If she spots an advantage, she’ll… grab it, and trust herself to figure out the details as she goes. MARTIN: Hm. DAISY: It’s worked so far.

- Aaaah, so confirmation/a few more things about The Eye’s effect!

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “My hands are shaking quite badly and my fingers… aren’t what they were. Even so, just knowing where this is going, this… statement [CHUCKLE], I can feel The Eye’s power on me, be it ever so slight. Steadying me; helping the words flow. Is it strange that… here… now… that seems almost a comfort…?”

I was wondering if something wasn’t at work in the same way as for live statements since people’s letters were so articulate too – it sounds like just being conscious that you’re sending a message to the Institute and/or an Archivist and/or to an agent of The Eye is enough to put you under The Eye’s spell, because your tale interests it? GOSH, it was so sad that Adelard was aware of it, but also that he was potentially stalling since, as long as he was giving a “statement”, he wouldn’t drop dead or reach a state of too much pain to continue…

I’m curious about the fact that the letters Jonah Magnus was receiving were of the same kind – clear enough to be read as statements. Was it “simply” because his penpals from the XIXth century were quite educated and used to sending long, articulate letters? Or was the fact that they knew they were sending them to Jonah influencing them? If so: was it because he was under The Eye’s effects… or because, specifically, he was an Archivist at the time…? (We still don’t know where Jonah fit, back then, if he was more like Elias, or more like Jon… He was collecting supernatural stories, at least.)

- More on the medium Adelard used to give this statement later, but it was explicitly an email:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “You must forgive me, Gertrude, for any typing and spelling errors that might be in this message. […] But it did not seem quite right to leave without letting you know what happened. And… Herr [Becker?] was kind enough to succumb to the sickness without signing out of his computer, so…”

1°) It… worked on a computer. It went through. We only know for sure that statements don’t record digitally in audio form but I was wondering about written ones, whether they could be typed down… Not sure if that’s a confirmation that yes, they can; or if there is something wrong with this statement; or if it’s that somehow, “something” (Web?) helped Adelard’s message to go through.

2°) … There was no static at any point of it during Jon’s reading. I don’t know when statement-reading static has happened for the last time during narration, but there were many moments in this statement at which there could have been, when describing supernatural things…? Why didn’t the tape recorder react to anything at all during the statement, even though Adelard described his encounter with a very powerful avatar? There were no quoted words or verbal exchanges, yes, but the tape recorders don’t only go All Staticcy at those. Overall, I realise that Jon’s last readings haven’t produced a lot of static? Iirc, there was nothing since MAG148, except for a few lines in MAG153 (“Love Bombing”), when there were direct quotes. Is there something hidden in the fact that the tape recorders are reacting less lately…?

- Adelard’s death was Sad News, but I’m so glad that we learned that John Amherst was actually neutralised a few years ago… in the same episode in which we got confirmation that Melanie is alright, is not regretting her choice one bit, and that it didn’t go supernaturally “wrong” or anything.

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … No, you’re right, I’m sorry. A–are you alright? MELANIE: Yes! I’m, hum… actually doing okay…! ARCHIVIST: That’s good. MELANIE: [SOFT CHUCKLES] My therapist isn’t happy about it, you know? Uh, unsurprisingly. Tried to have me put away, but they, uh… they let me come here. It’s, it’s been good for me, though! I… I feel alright. I’m, hum… I’m not scared anymore.

I was so afraid that John Amherst would be re-emerging, thus giving Melanie an incentive to go back to business in order to avenge her father? But nop! John Amherst was sealed under concrete five years ago! We’re not safe from him freeing himself, but it’s a hypothetical, not an active threat. Melanie is just free to… enjoy her life. Really free from All That (at least right now), and she… really sounded like she had found peace ;w;

I do also like that it seems like she’s back to the world. The Institute was a closed universe, with its personal rules – only Section 31 officers go when something happens, the Archives team has been isolated (Jon also mentioned that the regular staff didn’t want to talk with him much lately); but now, Melanie is back to another world, with its own rules and workings. Yes, gouging your eyes out is self-mutilation, and means you need help (although in practice, institutionalisation can make things worse); yes, your therapist is going to get worried about it. (The fact that Melanie still said “my” therapist also said, to me, that she was still seeing her? But aouch for the therapist; she must be used to compartmentalising, she must be used to patients self-harming, but probably not to the point of what Melanie did…)

I’m not absolutely sure it was the intended impression, but I reaaally felt that Melanie was currently on painkillers and/or tranquilisers? Her voice sounded almost too relaxed, she sounded like she had just woken up together with The Admiral, and Georgie was insistent on her resting. Nothing negative there – I would find it a bit reassuring for her to be medically handled right now, actually! Doesn’t have to be forever, doesn’t invalidate her words about feeling fine. Just. Melanie is not isolated; she needed help, she sought it, she did something that is understandably perceived as self-harm by society, and she is being tutored to make sure she can relearn to function. (I also wondered, at first, if Georgie was talking to The Admiral or to Melanie because she sounded a bit too cautious rather than tender and concerned, to me? So that would fit, if Melanie’s under treatment right now, and really not needing the extra strain.)

- We lost Tim and he left… so many… Bi babies… in his wake…

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Look, is she here or not? She–she said she was staying with you. GEORGIE: Yes, she’s here. ARCHIVIST: Really? Where’s all her stuff? GEORGIE: Bedroom, why? ARCHIVIST: … No, I just– [STATIC] Oh. Oh! I’m sor– I didn’t– I didn’t realise you were… to–together… GEORGIE: That’s ‘cause it’s none of your business. Now leave.

(MAG086) MELANIE: Then there are some old cuttings about Robin Patton. […] Hmm, wasn’t bad looking, before… well… that.

(MAG106) MELANIE: I don’t think so; Georgie Barker? She does What the Ghost?. […] Well, she and Jon, they… dated. BASIRA: Yeah? MELANIE: I mean, it was years ago.

(That’s also putting another light of Melanie’s discomfort when she mentioned that Jon&Georgie had dated – I was assuming it was mostly because Urk, Don’t Wanna Think About Jon’s Romantic Life since she was Eww at the concept of thinking about him sleeping with Martin, but. (ALSO, the beauty that in the same breath, we had Melanie talking about Georgie, describing past Jon-Georgie, and mentioning Martin’s ~fussing~ over Jon.))

“What’s the Ghost?” is officially queer culture! ;w;

I’m SUPER GLAD for Georgie to get a girlfriend, very !! but a tiny bit less over Melanie&Georgie being together at the moment – but that’s mostly because 1°) I also REALLY love Deep And Very Important Platonic Relationships, and Melanie&Georgie had been that to me so far with Georgie helping her, and we… don’t have a lot of deep friendships at the moment (quite the contrary, we have a lot of pairs who are (not all confirmed but STILL) romantic in nature: Martin-Jon, Basira-Daisy, now Georgie-Melanie), and personal taste but I would have liked to hear about Melanie re-learning to function outside of the Institute before learning that she’s actually romantically involved with the person who had supported her in her steps towards recovery, 2°) … I’m super concerned about Basira&Daisy because, if one romantic relationship had to be canon-canonised, I was expecting them to get that first, and I’m Still Super Afraid About Daisy’s Chances Of Survival By The End Of The Season, so a bit heartlessly strategical here, but thinking that giving us Georgie/Melanie miiiiight be a way to not… destroy all the wlw romances. If Daisy dies, I’m also losing the only Intense Platonic Friendship we have at the moment (hers with Jon), so, sob.

… But then, Melanie is saying that JON IS A FRIEND

(MAG157) GEORGIE: Melanie, you don’t have to do this… MELANIE: It’s, it’s okay. He’s… welcome. As a friend. But that’s it. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … Right. MELANIE: But you’re not after a friend, are you, Jon?

AND I WAS NOT EXPECTING THIS NEW CHALLENGER!! IT’S SUCH A WILD DEVELOPMENT THINKING BACK TO THEIR FIRST INTERACTIONS…………………

(MAG028) MELANIE: I knew you guys were a bit… slapdash, but this is absurd. ARCHIVIST: No doubt you’re used to a higher calibre of equipment when pretending to see ghosts in old churchyards and mental institutions. MELANIE: People like a show. People like our show. And, even if we do ham it up a bit, even we do add a bit of sparkle, we’re still more respected and evidence-based paranormal investigators than you and your lot. [NERVOUS, DISPARAGING LAUGH] ARCHIVIST: We are not “paranormal investigators”. We are researchers. Scholars. MELANIE: Whatever. […] ARCHIVIST: Hmm. And you’re sure you weren’t… dreaming? MELANIE: Are you serious? ARCHIVIST: I just have to check every possibility. Obviously working in your field, you must have quite a powerful imagination. MELANIE: Great! Great! I should have known this was a complete waste of my time.

(MAG063) MELANIE: You look like hell. ARCHIVIST: It’s been a hard few months. Look, can I help you, because if you’re just after another shouting match… MELANIE: No! I… I actually do need your help. ARCHIVIST: Hm. Interesting. MELANIE: Alright, can you not be an arsehole about it? I just need access to your library. […] I don’t exactly have the “academic credentials” you guys demand. So I apparently need someone to vouch for me. And you’re basically the closest thing I’ve got to a friend here. ARCHIVIST: We’ve spoken once, and we ended up screaming at each other.

So yes, losing a platonic relationship but getting a new friendship in the process ;w;

- I’m not sure the scene actually played this way? But given how The Admiral purred:

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Ah– [DOOR OPENS] MELANIE: Oh? What’s go–, what’s going on? You… you woke The Admiral… GEORGIE: Hey, hey, easy; it’s–it’s alright, he was just leaving. ARCHIVIST: Melanie, I… MELANIE: Jon…? ARCHIVIST: Yeah, it’s… me. GEORGIE: It’s alright, Melanie. Jon, leave. [ADMIRAL STARTS PURRING] ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry, I just… […] I suppose not… GEORGIE: Okay [ADMIRAL MEOWS IN PROTEST], you’re done. [PURRING CEASES] ARCHIVIST: Yeah. [INHALE] Yeah, I am.

I pictured The Admiral rushing towards Jon as soon as Melanie opened the door, more or less climbing on Jon until Jon secured him in his arms. The Admiral’s purrs were loud, so he had to be close to the tape recorder, right? And given his protest when Georgie cut in, she removed him from a comfy place, so that wasn’t Melanie’s arms.

(So: I pictured it as The Admiral in Jon’s arms AND Melanie petting it, able to find him through his purr. Melanie’s voice sounded like she was doing something else at the same time, to me? So yeah. Very close, very intimate, very comfy.)

(Kudos to Georgie for stepping back once Melanie began to talk about herself, without interrupting! She’s a good! Jon also has learnt his lesson from MAG131 and did not interrupt, listened to her! Sadly, Georgie is losing Awesomeness Points because… she retrieved The Admiral before he was done purring? D: Kitty crime??? Georgie, how could you do that to the cat? D:)

- I found Georgie a bit less harsh about Jon, too: not saying that her stances in season 4 haven’t been valid, far from it! But she’s still fair, and she didn’t blame him for Melanie’s injuries, she only pointed out the sacrifice Melanie had to make in order to flee, and wanted to make sure that Jon wouldn’t undo it, which was… extremely legitimate.

(MAG157) [CLICK–] [MUFFLED SOUNDS OF THE STREET] GEORGIE: No, Jon, you’ve done enough! ARCHIVIST: I just need to talk to her. GEORGIE: What don’t you understand? She mutilated herself to get out of that place, and there is absolutely no way I’m letting you involve her again! ARCHIVIST: Look, is she here or not? She–she said she was staying with you.

(And she was right about Jon threatening to pull Melanie back in, since Jon acknowledged he wasn’t really after a “friend” in current circumstances.)

Since Melanie did acknowledge that it might have been hard for Jon to tell her about Eric’s statement, I wonder if Georgie won’t mellow down about Jon a bit, given that Jon has indeed been trying a bit more, lately…? That will depend on Jon’s state at the end of season 4 (are we “losing” him forever? Or will he still try to not totally give in to The Eye, without cutting their link?), but it could be a possibility…

(I liked what we saw of Jon&Georgie’s friendship in season 3 a lot é_è Jon had remembered their break-up as having been a bad one, and despite it, they were getting along in season 3, and Georgie could be harsh and fair with him, so… I still want to cling to the hope that they’d manage to get back on speaking terms at some point, if Jon doesn’t fall entirely and keeps trying like he has begun to do… Maybe there could still be a way for them to build something again… maybe…)

(- At the same time: yes, Melanie&Georgie are legitimate to want to stay out of the supernatural business and to not participate in it anymore.

… On the other hand: if “bad things are coming” and an apocalypse is launched, and the world is changed, and monsters are let loose into the world because what was left of Team Archive wasn’t powerful/competent/numerous enough to prevent it… they won’t have any right to complain about what happens. But that’s interesting, because still “nobody is right/wrong” in their situations, even when they’re not directly harming anybody; if nobody is there to stop powerful avatars, like Adelard did, or to prevent rituals, then what would happen? More victims, probably. So, at the same time, it feels like it’s nobody’s and everybody’s responsibility to step in when they can.)

- Okay, so Basira&Daisy were unavailable, and Jon didn’t have anyone else, but still SOBBING that “someone I can trust” turned out to be Melanie, because gnnn. After learning about Eric’s statement, they made different choices, but I’m so soft for the fact that Jon still valued Melanie’s opinion and…

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Melanie, I… MELANIE: Jon…? ARCHIVIST: Yeah, it’s… me. GEORGIE: It’s alright, Melanie. Jon, leave. [ADMIRAL STARTS PURRING] ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry, I just… It’s Martin. MELANIE: Jon… don’t… Please. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … No, you’re right, I’m sorry. A–are you alright? MELANIE: Yes! I’m, hum… actually doing okay…! ARCHIVIST: That’s good.

… wanted to make sure she was fine!!! Even in the midst of urgency, of the fact that Martin was very likely in Big Danger and Not Fine, Jon still took the time to ask Melanie about it!!

- Jon Learned but at the same time, so many poor choices of words…

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Look, is she here or not? […] Look after yourself. Both of you.

jON… Being an Eye avatar doesn’t mean you have to be insensitive about it…

- ;; Overall: I’m sad that… Jon has indeed learnt. He didn’t dash to the tunnels, trying to find the centre on his own, or to go fight Peter. He immediately understood he needed to think about the broader picture, about who could have wanted him to listen to the tape and read the statement, and his first instinct was to want to talk about it with people he could trust.

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Am I just hearing what I want to hear? I need a second opinion, but… Basira and Daisy are… “out”, somewhere. […] I need someone I can trust. [LONG SIGH] […] Please, Georgie, it’s not– … I just need to know I’m not overreacting to something, I need an outside perspective.

It’s mostly that, due to circumstances, all his options have been cut. The timing of Daisy&Basira leaving is definitely too suspicious to think that it was unrelated and had nothing to do with getting Jon isolated, worried, and prone to being easily manipulated into doing something… so I’m guessing that the point was that someone/thing (Elias, Peter or Annabelle) is trying to get him to reach the centre. But Jon did try, and indeed, what other options would he have at the moment? Waiting for Basira&Daisy to come back, while Martin could be getting sacrificed? With the current configuration, I can understand that Jon is not keen on risking it… although, yeah. It’s undoing all the “trust” he was forcing himself to give Martin from afar during this season – his understanding that Martin had a plan, and that Jon had to hope Martin knew what he was doing to ensure Martin’s success. Jon made a mistake once when he tried to “Know” about Peter’s plans at the end of MAG139… and is probably doing a new one right now, confused by urgency. (“A tiny… hairline fracture, which destroys everything.”, to quote MAG139 orz)

… and hum. You know what had previously claimed to bank on Jon’s worry for someone to get him to level up a bit more?

(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. 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? What’s so important you need him stronger?

Still squinting very hard about The Bastard and the concept that ~no, he’s not getting his ceremony off from his prison~.

- Amongst all the exchanges, this moment was probably my favourite:

(MAG157) MELANIE: It’s, it’s okay. He’s… welcome. As a friend. But that’s it. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … Right. MELANIE: But you’re not after a friend, are you, Jon? ARCHIVIST: I need an ally. MELANIE: Then I can’t help you. [SHORT SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I suppose not…

Because it immediately conveyed that… Jon wasn’t seeking an opinion about whether or not to try to get involved and help Martin – that opinion would have been a “friend’s”. No; at this point, Jon had already decided to go in. And I like that Melanie, of all people, was immediately able to pinpoint that.

- Laughing forever, though, that YESSS, rule of three re:Jon and wlw:

(MAG089) ARCHIVIST: I just… er, you were a friend of Agnes Montague, correct? JUDE: She’s not one of your little stories.

(MAG117) ARCHIVIST: I think Basira is the same, she's coming along to back-up Daisy, or so she says. I–I– I don't quite get those two, I suppose. What they’ve done, seeing what they’ve seen… It’s a hell of a bond.

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Look, is she here or not? She–she said she was staying with you. GEORGIE: Yes, she’s here. ARCHIVIST: Really? Where’s all her stuff? GEORGIE: Bedroom, why? ARCHIVIST: … No, I just– [STATIC] Oh. Oh! I’m sor– I didn’t– I didn’t realise you were… to–together…

I can’t believe it took Beholding’s powers for him to realise. (Though, to be honest: he knew Melanie&Georgie were friends, Georgie was going on dates with other people in season 3, we don’t know whether Georgie is poly or not, so it wasn’t a given that they had gotten together sometime before this episode.)

- You know things are dire when, in the last few episodes: 1°) even Jon said “fuck”, 2°) Jon knocked on a door, not only once but twice.

(MAG146) [CLICK–] ARCHIVIST: [BREATHING HEAVILY, FRANTICALLY BANGING ON A DOOR] [A DOOR CREAKS OPEN] [DISTORTION SOUNDS, BRINGING CONSTANT STATIC] HELEN: You rang~?

(MAG157) [CLICK–] [FRANTICALLY BANGING ON A DOOR] [A DOOR CREAKS OPEN] [DISTORTION SOUNDS, BRINGING CONSTANT STATIC] ARCHIVIST: Helen…! HELEN: Jonathan~?

(Well. Banged on a door that wasn’t there.) Reminder that there is few knocking around Jon, and he still diiiiid it, times are… what they are.

(- When was the last time that someone called Jon “Jonathan”? I only remember Georgie’s “Jonathan Sims, are you trying to save the world?” from MAG093, and Elias in his first appearance:

(MAG017) ARCHIVIST: A complaint? I could just as easily complain about her wasting my time! ELIAS: That’s not how it works, Jonathan.

Helen had been generally replying to Jon on the same level when it came to names/designations, so was she just playful, or was this a way to point out that “Helen” is technically as formal as “Jonathan”, and not something someone close to Jon would call him? Even Melanie calls him “Jon”. Why “Jonathan” suddenly? Just for the variety?)

- SAD for Jon that his option as “ally” was… Helen, given what we’ve seen of her lately:

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: I need to know that’s in there, what’s at the centre, it’s–it’s important, Martin… I need to know. HELEN: [CONTAINED TITTER] That’s a shame. Because I’m afraid I’m not going to tell you. ARCHIVIST: What…? Why not? HELEN: Because I have a good enough sense of what’s going on to know that it will be much – more – fun – without – my – involvement…! [HELEN LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] […] ARCHIVIST: Just tell me what’s going on – please! HELEN: Bad things, Archivist. [HELEN LAUGHS AND LAUGHS, ECHOING] Really – bad – things!

It sounds like she’s going full Distortion lately, uh? She seemed comparatively so stable and straightforward, in MAG131…

- AHHAHA, Helen had reminded Jon about her sharpness recently:

(MAG152) ARCHIVIST: Huh? You’ve got hands. HELEN: Sharp enough to pull out worms. Kill a few old men. Maybe stab an overeager Archivist… ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] HELEN: But my physicality is as much an illusion as everything else about me. Think of me… as a bear trap. Not a sword.

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: I don’t have time for this! [STATIC] What is at the centr– [SHARP SOUND AS HELEN GRABS HIM BY THE THROAT] HELEN: No. We are not playing your game now. ARCHIVIST: [PAINED SOUNDS] HELEN: Don’t forget how sharp I can be, Archivist. Perhaps here, now, you’re powerful enough to learn what you want from me. But if you try, I promise you I will resist, and only one of us is going to survive the attempt. [SHARPING SOUND, RETREATING]

“Not a sword”, uh.

And we’re back to Jon getting whumped and threatened by everyone. It’s… interesting that Helen felt that Jon’s compulsion was an actual threat – it had annoyed Jude, too, but Helen directly went for the throat (… apparently, it was actually truly the throat in the script, Anil said). Would getting straight answers from The Distortion cause it harm on an essential level, like it potentially happened with Breekon when Jon “extracted” his statement and got to “know” him?

- Also interesting that Jon’s compulsion is apparently getting stronger? You would think that Jon’s powers would begin to crash and burn since he’s quit taking live statements, especially since Helen advised him to get a victim to replenish himself, but nop. Is it still from the power-boost Jon got when he chose not to die? Is it because of the new Fears he experienced over season 4 (Flesh taking ribs out of him, going and getting out of The Buried, staring at the Dark Sun)? Is it because we’re in 2018, and it’s supposed to be kind of a zenith for Beholding given that it’s the Institute’s anniversary…?

- … I was very scared that Jon might have forced a statement out of someone on the way to Georgie’s, but given how Helen invited him to find one right now, doesn’t seem to be the case!

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Fine. [PANTING] Can you take me there? To the centre? HELEN: I honestly don’t know. But I’m not inclined to risk it. ARCHIVIST: Damn you! HELEN: Run home, Jon. Find a victim on the way~ Chaos is coming, and I think you’d best be ready.

Which is a relief ;;

I’m… super worried about Basira and Daisy, who left Jon absolutely unsupervised, and with Jon proving that he is able to go outside. Melanie is not there anymore either to check on him, and Jon had told Martin juuust a few episodes ago that:

(MAG154) ARCHIVIST: Honestly: thank you. [EXHALE] It’s been hell, but… I–I did need to hear it. MARTIN: Oh, hum… Uh, g–good. Heh. Are the others… helping? ARCHIVIST: Oh! [DRY CHUCKLE] They’ve been keeping a… very close eye on me…!

… but no, it’s really not the case right now ;; And I’m worried again. What’s the point of Jon getting caught and made to stop in the last third of the season…? I still feel like if he makes new innocent victims, then it’s indeed over for him (there would be nothing to differentiate him from other avatars who feed and prey on innocents to stay alive); is his withdrawal a step towards something else…? Or is it to exemplify that there could have been another option, that Jon didn’t hold to it and crashed himself down in the end…?

- From their point of view, I’m REALLY worried that Daisy&Basira left suddenly, leaving Jon unsupervised and alone because… why would they.

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: Am I just hearing what I want to hear? I need a second opinion, but… Basira and Daisy are… “out”, somewhere. They left in a hurry and didn’t tell me why; now, their phones are going to voicemail. Maybe they’re just… on the Underground, and probably th– … That doesn’t help me now. [SIGH]

The way Jon phrased it, it seems like he saw them leaving (it wasn’t that he couldn’t find them or anything), so? Why would they choose to not tell Jon? What could make them leave together, Daisy included, when Daisy was still “weak”? They could be trapped in Helen’s corridors right now (like Tim&Martin at the end of season 2), or in The Lonely because Peter wanted to get Jon absolutely isolated, but I’m still a bit baffled about why they would leave Jon unsupervised and without telling him anything.

1°) Is it that Basira managed to convince Daisy to Hunt again (nooo, Basira, don’t…), and to go after Trevor&Julia… ;; (Or Julia&Trevor were spotted somewhere, and they left to get them with Daisy trying hard not to Hunt.)

2°) Same thing, but with Annabelle Cane?

3°) Maybe they left for the tunnels on their own because something’s happening down there/Basira found something about it in the Archives, and it was really important to not talk about it (because Elias Watching, or The Web having its many eyes on him) and/or because Jon is still an avatar of The Eye…?

4°) Or plainly: they read Adelard’s statement, were the ones who left it on Jon’s desk, and are trying to stop Peter&Martin. … Would still be very stupid, tho, because OF COURSE Jon would panic about it ;; Unless they read it, hid it, and something else pulled it out to get Jon to panic. Could Martin have contacted them about something they need to do without Jon knowing? Basira knew that Martin was planning to go for a self-sacrifice; if it’s tied to this, it could explain why they didn’t tell Jon anything regarding their departure.

5°) … It would still go back in the “but why not tell Jon!!” category, but I’m really worried that there is something very wrong with Elias’s prison right now, hence why they left in a hurry – that either he has disappeared (and/or was “Peter’s map”, so Peter got him out), either the prison is unresponsive and it turns out it has been under Elias’s control for a looong while. He didn’t seem too upset about the prospect of going in MAG120, the Institute was built with strong ties to the Millbank prison (so it’s not an unfamiliar place for The Eye to thrive), and we still don’t know what he’s “eating” (/how come Elias is fine, as an avatar of The Eye, while Jon is suffering so badly from withdrawal? Is Elias himself really under withdrawal?)…

(MAG120) POLICE OFFICER: By all means, mister Bouchard: why don't you have a look in my head, and see exactly what will happen to you when you mess with me. ELIAS: [GRUNT] There will be no need for that, inspector, I’m sure we’ll get along famously. POLICE OFFICER: Good. ELIAS: Best of luck, Martin. Ah, let the others know I shall be thinking of them. MARTIN: [SIGH]

(MAG127) BASIRA: Can we cut the bullshit? ELIAS: What “bullshit” might that be? BASIRA: The part where you pretend you don’t spend your whole time watching us. ELIAS: … Sometimes I’m eating.

+ There is the fact that Elias spent this entire season in prison, and I have trouble picturing him still inside at the beginning of season 5. He’s getting out before that.

- ;; GODS, Jon listening to Martin&Peter’s exchange was so tense and heartbreaking… we knew that Jon had listened to previous tapes, but it was something else to hear his deep breathing, really heavy and conveying how much he was… upset? Worried? Angry about Peter?

(MAG157) [CLICK–] [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “… Will I be coming back?” PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “You’re not going to die–” ARCHIVIST: [LONG, SHAKY INHALE] PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “–if that’s what you’re asking–” ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “–but… no. If all goes well, you won’t be.” ARCHIVIST: [DEEP, SHAKY BREATHES] MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “[LONG INHALE, EXHALE]” PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “How does that make you feel?” ARCHIVIST: [EXHALE] MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “… Nothing.” ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “[SNORT]” ARCHIVIST: [LONG EXHALE] MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “Nothing at all…!” PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “Excellent. I’m so proud of you, Martin.” MARTIN’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “I really don’t care.” PETER’S RECORDED VOICE FROM MAG156: “Perfect.” [CLICK.] ARCHIVIST: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] This… tape was left on my desk.

1°) I was wondering, but Peter’s voice indeed records on tape!

2°) Complete with the squeal of distortions that are his trademark when we’re hearing him live. So it’s indeed something that tampers with the recording a bit, but not to the point of being inaudible.

3°) It was the worst pre- and post-supplemental to hear when it came to Martin… the one when he sounded the most “lost into the Lonely”…………. And he had said he wasn’t sure whether he still cared about ~Jon hearing his voice~ at the start of it…

And at the same time: given how Martin had been so self-aware of being recorded, of Peter being potentially in the room… the question is still open. Elias did acknowledge that Martin was manipulative:

(MAG138) MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us. MARTIN: [HUFF]

And was it only about keeping tapes from Jon behind Peter’s back? How much can we trust of what we heard from Martin during season 4? Even Jon had managed to hide that he had attacked people from his recordings; it took Jess’s complaint and Helen calling Jon out for him to admit what he had done. Does Martin truly not “care”, as Peter was glad to hear, or was Martin feeding Peter what he wanted to hear, too…?

(tl;dr Web!Martin is not dead as long as Martin is still alive :|)

(- I'm Still Not Claiming That It’s Romantic On Jon’s Part Until We Get A Very Explicit Confirmation Because I Wanna Raise The Bar Higher, but: Jon… Jon, you big worried bi…

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] This… tape was left on my desk. I don’t know by who, but to my mind there are… three options. Martin has left it here, to let me know that… whatever the situation is with Peter Lukas, it is entering its final act and he needs my help. […] This, uh… this changes things. I–I think. … If Martin found this, r–read it already, then perhaps he’s having… second thoughts about, about Peter and The Extinction, this… this could be a cry for help, his way of asking me to follow him without Peter knowing, or… [EXHALE] Or what? I don’t understand – Martin’s been quite clear he doesn’t want my help…! Am I just hearing what I want to hear? […] I’m sorry, I just… It’s Martin. MELANIE: Jon… don’t… Please. […] ARCHIVIST: I need to know that’s in there, what’s at the centre, it’s–it’s important, Martin… I need to know.

Urk… The fact that he went “Martin” first, before giving Helen a formulation that she probably wanted to hear (=> Jon as an Eye-avatar Wanting To Know…))

(- Last minute Extinction speculation, but I wonder if Adelard’s most important speculation in his last message wasn’t this one:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “while I have seen evidence of its influence in other Powers, I have never found anything to genuinely prove its emergence as a true Power of its own. Perhaps it is an existential fear that flows through the others like a vein of ore”

… what if, indeed, The Extinction had never been a Fifteenth Power… but a kind of enhancer? Every time Adelard was prone to label an occurrence as an Extinction one, it felt like it was operating on a big scale. What if The Extinction is indeed something new, but mostly boosting good old Fears into something bigger, scarier, more effective – and a few of them, such as the Corruption, would obviously be more compatible than others?)

- There are indeed so many options about who left the tape and the statements, and why:

(MAG157) ARCHIVIST: [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] This… tape was left on my desk. I don’t know by who, but to my mind there are… three options. Martin has left it here, to let me know that… whatever the situation is with Peter Lukas, it is entering its final act and he needs my help. Alternatively, Peter may have left it here to… goad me into action? Or just to gloat, to highlight my helplessness and everything. [SIGH] Or Annabelle Cane is trying to manipulate me into thinking it’s one of the other scenarios. Previously, the Spiders have made their presence clear when they’ve sent me… “hints”, but I can’t take that for granted. I don’t know what to do…! [SIGH] There’s a statement with it. It looks pretty recent – hm! First time in a while I’ve been… wary of reading one. … Still. I guess… [LONG INHALE, EXHALE] [PAPER RUSTLING] […] This, uh… this changes things. I–I think. … If Martin found this, r–read it already, then perhaps he’s having… second thoughts about, about Peter and The Extinction, this… this could be a cry for help, his way of asking me to follow him without Peter knowing, or… [EXHALE] Or what? I don’t understand – Martin’s been quite clear he doesn’t want my help…! Am I just hearing what I want to hear? I need a second opinion, but…

1°) But Jon casually ignored the fact that the statement was a last message, sent to an Archivist, to say goodbye, and that… that could have been what Martin was aiming at. (I’m not really digging that Martin would have done that without leaving a message on his own, though; even if he were to stop caring about Jon, he would still keep in mind that Jon would be prone to doing drastic things to try to save people, or to run into danger. He got a whole discussion with Daisy about it in MAG142, and asked Basira not to tell Jon that he wasn’t planning on coming back just a few episodes ago.)

2°) The tape and the statement have been left by different persons/things, and had different purposes, and/or one of the factions could have subtilized something else to prevent Jon to connecting dots.

3°) A big question is also who was aware of Adelard’s last message (and of his death). I lost my bet that Peter had killed him, but still: it’s extremely suspicious that Peter never mentioned in front of Martin the possibility of getting Adelard’s own help… so he must have known it wasn’t an option. We never heard Martin questioning about it, so… Martin might have found out, or guessed about it, too.

4°) Adelard’s message was explicitly an email:

(MAG157, Adelard Dekker) “You must forgive me, Gertrude, for any typing and spelling errors that might be in this message. […] But it did not seem quite right to leave without letting you know what happened. And… Herr [Becker?] was kind enough to succumb to the sickness without signing out of his computer, so…”

… And Peter’s not good with computers:

(MAG126) PETER: Anyway, I’m very excited to see this rota you’ve put together. Never had much of a gift for– MARTIN: Okay. PETER: –administration myself; too many variables. Now, this box on the left, that’s the library stuff, yes? MARTIN: What? N–n–no, th–th–that’s, no, those are the dates, I– … Look, are you sure you don’t want me to teach you? It’s, it’s a very simple program– PETER: No. No. Can’t stand computers. Besides! That’s why I have an assistant, isn’t it? MARTIN: [SIGH] Yeah. I guess so.

Unlike Annabelle (who was very interest in the www in MAG123), and unlike Martin. Who printed it out? Gertrude? Or someone else, very recently?

- ;; Is next week Jon trying to reach the centre of the tunnels already (and unknowingly being Peter’s map, being tracked when thinking he was tracking Peter&Martin?), using or not using Leitner’s supernatural copy of The Seven Lamps of Architecture, or going to ask Elias for help because he’s desperate………………… I don’t see many more options for Jon at this point… There is still the Threat of Jon’s inner door looming here:

(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 know it’s there, and I can’t forget it, and I can feel the pressure of the water on it. 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? [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: I drown.

… and I’m dreading that yes, he would try to open it to find the centre, in order to find Martin… ;; (And that there is actually no centre; only Jon, with his sea of knowledge, in the middle, thus precipitating the bad things Helen was cackling about.)

- As usual: what are Elias/Annabelle/Peter’s plans and aims, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrgggg

(- Hi, guess who was there at every 38th episode of a season so far:

(MAG038) ARCHIVIST: Urgh. Urgh. [SOUND OF CHAIR SCRAPING] I see you… [THUMP… THEN SOUND OF COLLAPSING SHELVES] [NOISES OF EXCLAMATION] [DOOR OPENS] SASHA: Alright? ARCHIVIST: Ah… Yeah. A… spider. SASHA: A spider? ARCHIVIST: Yeah. I tried to kill it… the shelf collapsed. SASHA: I swear, cheap shelves are… Did you get it? ARCHIVIST: Ah… I hope so. Thinks so. Nasty, bulbous looking thing. SASHA: [CHUCKLES] Well, I won’t tell Martin. ARCHIVIST: Oh, god. I don’t think I could stand another lecture on their importance to the ecosystem.

(MAG078) ARCHIVIST: [WHISPERED] It is remarkably easy to buy an axe in Central London. Harder to sneak it into Artefact Storage but not impossible. I don’t know if destroying this is going to kill that thing… but I am damn sure it’s going to hurt. […] Hollow. Just cobwebs and dust.

(MAG118) DAISY: Shut. Up. BASIRA: It’s just cobwebs. ARCHIVIST: There’s no such thing as just cobwebs! I don’t like it. TIM: Tough.

MmMMmmmMMmmmMMMmm.)

Title for MAG158 is… ouft. F–finally, I guess?

So, hum. Beholding, I guess? (It would be the 5th one this season if we count MAG138 as mostly Eye’s… ;;) And probably tunnels stuff. Depending on how the groups are split, could be Peter&Martin, Basira&Daisy&Elias or Elias&Jon, I guess… I’m mostly expecting no statement and a two-part climax like in season 3, but if there is a statement, I guess it could be read/told by Elias, whether alone or ~in company~ (a letter to/from Jonah Magnus? Another thing from Smirke’s earliest days? Something related to [the title itself]?).

Regarding the… less concrete aspect of the title, it… could be either about Elias (is he really confined.), either about Jon and his powers, I guess……………… could be Jon opening his ~inner door~ to try to find Martin/the centre of the maze, too……………….

[deatcmgod]

Todoroki Shouto x Reader (Cinderella AU) - Part I

(Y/n) (L/n) lived a happy life alongside her parents. Her father was a wealthy baron who taught her how to read and write, providing her knowledge about the wonders of the world. Her mother was a sweet, simple lady who taught her how to have courage and be kind. Telling her that even if life goes wrong, she will continue to smile brightly and to believe that every impediment in life is a phase that one must endure. Together, they loved their daughter dearly. As her father would always find time to spend with his family, even missing his daughter and wife when he was away for business trips.

Making friends with the animals, a home, and a loving complete family. (Y/n) thought that her life was perfect.

That was until, her mother died by the time she was ten years old. It brought despair and sorrow over them especially her father who became depressed. (Y/n)'s father did everything to make life better for his child but he realized that the girl needed a maternal figure so he re-married a woman named Ayame, who had two daughters on her own, namely Hanako and Kaede. (Y/n) adjusted when they first arrived to their home, and together they all lived peacefully. 

Soon her father went on a business trip, but a few days later, they received a letter concerning (Y/n)'s father that he died of a sickness and a funeral shall be arranged upon his body's arrival. This news alone devastated (Y/n) as she wept during the night, realizing that she'll no longer be able to see her father come home alive and well.

As time passed, her stepmother Ayame and her daughters showed their true colors. They began to abuse (Y/n) by making her do all the household work, and letting her suffer by mistreating her akin to a servant. (Y/n) could only obey and endure the wickedness of the three, she's willing to comply every task just to distract her from her heart grieving the loss of her parents. Despite the maltreatment she's been getting from her stepmother and stepsisters, she still encompasses kindness and treasures what her mother said to her.

"(Y/n) hurry up with the breakfast will you?!?" Hanako, the stepsister with red hair yells from the other side of the room.

"You're so slow and tardy! Maybe that's why Father left you!" Kaede, the other stepsister with black hair says, earning a chuckle from their mother.

"Now, now, Ladies we know that she deserves the loss of her parents but we also need to mind our manners. Remember that we must be prim and proper to impress the prince" Lady Ayame spoke, taking a sip from her rose tea.

A few moments later, (Y/n) enters the room with three trays, two on both of her arms and the third tray on her head perfectly balanced. Despite the dirty clothes and her ash-covered face (due to her setting up the fireplace as she cooked the food) she manages to serve the food in time yet her step-family was too impatient and demanding. She carefully placed the trays on the table and arranged them in order.

"I'm sorry, I had to-" (Y/n) was cut off by Kaede.

"Just shut up, we don't care what you did earlier and it's your fault for being late! Geez you're such a slowpoke" Kaede said.

"And look at you! You look ugly with what you're wearing, and you're face is covered in cinders! Maybe we should call you Cinder(Y/n)!" Hanako said as they gave out a laugh, (Y/n) could only hang her head down in shame.

"Leave this dining room (Y/n) and change into a neat clothing. You look hideous with that outfit of yours, and after breakfast you must head to town to buy some goods. Better hurry or I might make you clean the whole house" Lady Ayame ordered and (Y/n) nodded her head before leaving, she heads upstairs in the attic. 

Her room was in the attic, where it was cold and dusty but she managed to clean the whole room and arranged it to her liking. (Y/n) stares into the mirror infront her where observes her appearance. Her face was covered in ashes, her (h/c) locks tied messily into a bun, and her attire was dirty. She had to clean the horse's stables, feed the farm animals, water the garden plants, and set up the fireplace to cook food.

She's tired deep inside, with all these work piling one by one. Her stepmother and stepsisters would not even give her a rest in between, the only time that she can rest is during the night where they go to sleep. Every day (Y/n) still retained her positivity to believe in her dreams and to never stop being kind. She took her own mother's words by heart.

"If it weren't for what you've told me before, Mother.....I would have lost hope over everything" She mutters, giving a sad smile to her reflection before changing into a new set of clothes. After changing she goes back downstairs to clean the dining table.

She knows that they were in the music room where Hanako would practice her 'singing skills' whilst Kaede would practice her 'painting skills'. But she doubts that they have a certain special skill. 

Oh wait, they do have a special skill.

That is, 'being talentless'.

"Time's ticking child, hurry up and eat" Her stepmother spoke from the music room.

"Yes, Madame" (Y/n) replied before heading to the kitchen with the trays in her hand. There she was greeted by her mouse friends namely: Denki and Kirishima, and their fluffy-yet-spiky-tsundere dog named Katsuki. (Y/n) set the trays on the dishes and knelt down towards her animal friends.

"Hello there Denki and Kaminari, you too Katsuki" She greets the two mice as she gave the angry dog a pet on the head. The dog somehow calmed down and enjoyed the petting that was until he suddenly growled as he saw the evil house cat named Monoma. The cat just strutted away therefore angering the explosive dog, making him bark.

"Come on, Katsuki don't be like that. Monoma is not worth your time, here why don't you eat?" She says, grabbing a container, filling it with dog food then placing it on the ground. Katsuki barked in delight and started eating. She does the same for two mice, giving them small slices of cheese and earning a happy squeak from the adorable mice. 

(Y/n) also started eating the leftovers which were only a small amount but she finished it all and added them to the dishes. She washed the dinnerware and wiped the corners of the sink before cleaning up and heading to town with a basket.

As she passed and bought goods from some shops, she bumped into her two friends: Uraraka Ochako and Yaoyorozu Momo who were also servants. 

"(Y/n) hello! It's been a while since we last saw you" Momo greeted.

"Hello to you too girls, I've been busy actually" (Y/n) replied with a nervous chuckle.

"Is it your stepmother and stepsisters again? They've been abusing you for a long time! If you'd like, you can leave them and live with me instead" Uraraka said.

"Ah, I'm afraid I cannot do that Ura. I cannot leave my home for it is my parents'...And I wouldn't want to be a bother to the both of you" (Y/n) said.

"But they've been mistreating you badly (Y/n), you deserve to live a better life and home...I'm sure that one of us could provide that for you" Momo spoke, with worry and certainty. But (Y/n) just gave them a smile.

"Thank you for the offer guys, but I will still stay at my home....But don't worry, maybe someday I'll be free from them" (Y/n) said. Just as the two were about to speak, a loud trumpet roared through the streets putting everyone to a stop. An army of royal guards with their horses came through the streets and stopped by.

The Royal speaker pulled out a scroll and cleared his throat before speaking,

"Hear ye, hear ye! On this day, tonight a royal ball shall be held at the palace!," Everyone's head perks at the mention of a ball. 

"At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the Prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, at the behest of the Prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner is invited to attend" The people gasped and some ladies jumped in excitement.

"Oh my gosh, did you hear that? We're all invited!" Uraraka spoke as she happily bounced up and down. Momo and I couldn't contain our smiles and giggled at our friend's actions. After the announcement, she bids farewell to her friends before heading home. 

She enters the music room and told her stepmother and stepsisters about the royal ball, earning a squeal of excitement from the sisters before frantically running upstairs to their rooms, her stepmother grinned mischievously as she plans to pamper her daughters and if the Prince falls in love with one of them, they are sure to get married and she would earn the riches of the kingdom and be in power. 

So she orders (Y/n) to prepare her daughters' ball gowns. The (h/c)-haired girl obliged and went to her stepsisters' shared room, she cringed at the mess that they have made. Countless of dresses and gowns were scattered all over the place, as well as jewelry pieces on the floor. 

She sighs internally, 'For sure the Prince would find them unpleasant if he finds out that they're irresponsible' she thought.

"Oi Cinder(Y/n), stop daydreaming and start helping!" Kaede's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Alright Kaede" She replied as she assists Kaede with the hoop skirt. Once she wore the hoop skirt, she helps the girl in putting on the yellow ball gown. "I look beautiful in this gown!" Kaede exclaims as she checks herself in the mirror.

"Nah you look like a pig, you were never beautiful" Hanako snickered, Kaede giving her a playful glare and throwing her a pillow towards her.

"Cinder(Y/n), help me with the corset!" Hanako calls out to the (h/c)-haired girl who just finished fixing Kaede's gown, (Y/n) then hurries to Hanako. She grips the lace and pulls it back to tighten the corset into Hanako's desired tightness.

She helped the girls with their hairstyles and makeup, even wiping their shoes clean with a cloth before placing it on their feet. The two sisters hurried outside, leaving (Y/n) to clean their room but it only took her ten minutes to do so. The idea of attending the royal ball kept her motivated, she just wants to have fun at ball. Enjoying her time with her friends while eating appetizers from the royal buffet and waltz-dancing. Maybe this could be her chance to experience freedom even if it was limited, or so she thought.

"Alas, I have no dress nor gown.....How will I attend the ball?" She spoke as realization hit her. She has no gown to wear for the ball, but she can make one however there's no time left for her to do so. The carriage will be here soon to pick them up. Much to her disappointment, she decides not to attend the ball so she walks outside from the stepsisters' room and go towards her own.

As she walked to the long stairs to the attic, she was met by Denki and Kirishima who were squeaking loudly to catch her attention. (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows and knelt down infront of them.

"What's wrong Denki, Kiri? Did Monoma do something bad to both of you?" She asks, the two mice seemed to understand her as they shook their heads. Then they both scurried off to her bedroom door and (Y/n) followed. 

She was confused as to why her mice friends were in such a hurry but all her confusion came to a stop when she opened the door and gasped. A wonderful peach dress in a manikin was displayed infront of her. The dress had frills and lace with a pink ribbon tied around the waist. Her other small animal friends surrounded her, anticipating her reaction. (Y/n) bent herself near the dressing table to where her small friends were and gave them a delightful smile.

"Did you guys make it for me?" She asked and they nodded. "Thank you so much! I was worried that I could not go to the ball because I didn't have anything to wear, but now I can and I'm grateful for what you've all done" She added before trying on the dress. The female mice also helped her in fixing her appearance, especially with the make up and the hair. Denki, Kirishima and the male mice helped in polishing her shoes. The female birds placed silver jewelry on her neck and ears. And as she looked onto the mirror, she smiled as how gorgeous she looks.

“I look wonderful” She smiles warmly infront of the mirror.

------------------------------------------- End of Part I ---------------------------------------------

A/n: Okay so I decided to separate this fic into two parts because my phone is not doing well but don't worry, I'll be writing the second part soon. Hope you guys enjoyed it! I just came back from a two-year hiatus (since I've been an author in Wattpad) so please bear with my mediocre writing. Bye my moonbeams!~

[the-collectim]

.:RP:. By Your Side

Characters: Bai Biming (male Keeper of the Moon, @ninetales-carbuncle​ ), Atlas Tenebrous (male Rava)

Origin Date: 24 Feb 2020

“…it isn’t things and proximity, or even blood that holds us all together. What makes a family is love and loyalty.” – Genevieve Dewey

In the wake of Suiren Temple’s investigation into the yokai haunting a yakuza family, Atlas goes to relay the results to his dear friend and the master of the temple.

(Note: This is from an RP session. So there is a back and forth of writers. A - in between paragraphs indicate a change in narrator.)

---

Bai Biming was a creature rarely seen outside his theatre. Though on this occasion he was in the Bokairo Inn. One of the large rooms bordering the garden selected so he could enjoy his tea and watch the chattering of the birds. Of course he used one of the many pseudonyms in his collection: Xehn'ir Loh.

A tray sat to his right, filled with a sample selection of treats. Their flavor pairing well with the honey-touched lotus tea. The cup being lifted to his lips for a sip to chase down a bite of strawberry shortcake.

There was some tension in his form. Biming was still weary of what the results of the Yurihara Kai estate would be. He had heard the old assistant Tanaka had been dragged into the estates gaols.

Not idea, but it was proof something had gone well.

-

There was knock on the windowsill just outside the room. A specific pattern that would be well-known over the years.

Atlas rested in the cover of an overhand and banner of the inn, easily able to traverse the inn's walls.

-

Biming looked up. The silver Keeper moved from the floor to the window to take a look. Though he moved to touch the latch and carefully nudged it open.

"Whatever admirer has found their way to my window?" Lord Bai couldn't help but tease as teal eyes looked every but where he suspected Atlas to be. "Hopefully it's not that dame from the hot springs I ran into earlier. I saw that ring, and Lord Bai is a virtuous soul."

-

"If Lord Bai believes so."

A neutral tone as ever as the Viera crossed his arms, enjoying the residual warmth on the building as the sun retreated. It would be unnoticeable to all but the most trained eyes but there was a bit less of that stoic tension from Atlas around this certain cat.

-

Biming leaned upon the sill, and let his chin settle upon an arm. The tea and treats forgotten for now.

"You don't believe me, Atlas?" He inquired. "Well, I suppose you know me better than most." A weak spot in his armor, he'd never admit to of course. "That said, how did the events at the Yurihara Kai go?"

-

"Sweet first."

Of course he could smell them even out here.

-

Biming laughed at that, and slipped back. "Of course, Atlas."

The lord smoothed out the sleeve of his haori as he went back to the small stable with the treats and tea. The small sampling of cakes decorating dessert plates in a select pattern. A half ate strawberry cake sitting next to his cup of lotus tea.

"Would you like tea too?"

-

A shake of his head no as he took a cake in either hand, eating one immediately and grabbing another as he chewed. Good, this was how he was paid for good work.

-

"Ah, do take your time and enjoy the flavor at least." Biming cautioned as he sat there.

Of course he was patient for when Atlas was happy enough with his payment to give up details. The tea sat down to take up the fork to take a bite. Those teal eyes focusing on Atlas.

-

There was no sign the Viera had been in battle besides two missing arrows to his quiver. It had been a fortunately uneventful thing.

"There was a yokai. Weapons and lost souls. Lured by one of their own."

One cake down, he nibbled at another.

-

"Is that so?"

There was something in the tone of his voice that said something more was up. Biming quietly observed the missing arrows. It was good that it was not an awful encounter at least. His attention shifted away to the window once more.

"A bait was set to draw out the resentful energy clinging to the weapons of the Yurihara Kai's lord." He recited easily enough. "Waking up the souls of the ones they cut down needlessly that had clung to their blades."

That silver tail tapped at the floorboards. The tea was back up for a sip. Biming looking peaceful of mind.

"It is a perfect opportunity for our people to build relations with them. We'll need it."

-

Those leaf green eyes looked over, his serious demeanor not at all affected by frosting on the corner of his mouth. "Build relations? But they are the enemy."

Politics and intrigue was above the Viera's normal way of pondering things. He was a very straightforward soul, unliking of that side of things.

-

"Mine, but not of Suiren Temple." Biming said it lightly as he looked sideways at Atlas. He didn't expect the Viera to get it, yet he didn't want to explain it all. "A pity Old Tanaka got pointed out. He just lost his daughter to her despair, but perhaps he'll find peace in knowing we will handle the Yurihara Kai for him."

-

"So...they stay? Even if they'd done bad things?"

He frowned as he stuffed the rest of cake number two in his mouth to reach into a pouch at his belt. From there, he holds out a pretty paper banner. It was incomplete, a work in progress but undoubtedly one of Chuuya's pieces. No works in progress should have been available with Suzume in ashes unless they were taken the night of.

-

Biming took the scroll. Yes. Chuuya who was important to his second guard, and that shop. The piece being carefully unrolled to look over it.

"For now. They have become entangled with a bigger beast, which made them brave enough to strike in the first place."

-

There was the subtle look of disapproval on the beastmaster's face but he nodded, trust in his master. "Then they will die soon?"

Believe it or not, Atlas did form ties to others though it took an immense amount of time. He knew An Yeung was close to Chuuya and that, by proxy, meant that it was his duty to protect.

-

"Yes." Lord Bai confirmed with a press of his lips into that customary thin line. "We will deal with them, I promise. For now we must play them." A look to him. "Make sure Chuuya isn't assigned to any tasks going near to Yurihara."

A hand lifted then. The fingers touched his chest and tucked into the folds of the top. An envelope being drawn out as he offered it over to Atlas.

"And make sure Aoki-san gets this. It's communication from Thavnair. The ship sailing for Morning Logistics has left their port for Limsa Lominsa."

-

He wiped his frosted fingers on his leathers before taking the letter to tuck away in between the layers of his light armor. A nod to both requests as he then finished the third cake.

"Any trouble for you?"

Concern towards Bai first and foremost.

-

"No. No trouble for me, Atlas." Biming shook his head. "If I run into some, you will be the first one I tell. Promise."

-

Another nod. Despite finishing his cake, he lingered. It was odd for the Viera, usually a creature of very direct and efficient behaviors and he'd been given a request.

-

It didn't go unnoticed.

"Is there something more on your mind? You can express yourself freely with me, Atlas."

-

"I am odd here."

An obvious statement but a way for him to frame his thoughts. Words were always something he'd struggled with. It was only thanks to Biming that he was where he was now.

"And people stare."

-

"Viera are rare outside of their homeland."

Biming reasoned as he watched Atlas. It was always interesting to watch how the Viera went through the motions of thought to form his statements. So much went into each statement and action. A much simpler means of communication he could appreciate.

"Males even more so." The tuft of tail tapped the floorboards. "We male miqo'te are no different, but certainly more common. Maybe they are curious, or perhaps they want to get closer to you?"

-

The instant frown showed what Atlas thought of 'getting closer' to strangers. Ick.

"Is it...troubling? For you." Indeed how could he go unnoticed and not be connected to Biming as things became more active in such public places like this.

-

"For me?" The silver ears ticked at the question. "No. You should grow close to others, and make a life for yourself. Not stay caught up in the Magpie's games like you are."

-

A quick shake of his head, cream-colored hair ruffled in the motion. He had enough sense to stay hidden though. "I will stay forever."

-

Biming paused at that statement, and gave a nod. "If that is what you want, Atlas. I won't impose upon you to stay, or to keep your life devoted solely to me. This kind of life isn't ideal."

-

"It is my life. My decision." Where would he be without Biming? He held his hand out, palm towards the miqo'te in that old familiar motion since their first days.

-

Biming gave a weak winded chuckle, and met that hand. Just a light touch. The Viera's hand was certainly bigger than his own.

"I'd not demand you do anything you'd not wish to."

-

The grounding motion helped as his thoughts often strayed beyond his duties when talking to this one that let him express himself without judgement. "I will do all to help."

-

"I know." Biming acknowledged.

It was definitely calming to be in contact with someone who could at least be genuine with. Though his attention went to the clock to see the time, and he sighed. He had no desire to chase off his friend, but there were some things...

"You should go before Officer Shiki gets here, Atlas. I'd rather my contacts not learn of you."

-

With reluctance the Viera drew back his hand and nodded. "I will deliver the note. Be safe." He stepped back a bit. There was always a bit of foreboding when separated from his master for so long. He was unable to pin down what caused it.

-

"Always." Biming gave a light smile to reassure the viera. "I'll send word when we are to meet next."

-

Another nod from the beastmaster at that. "You'll always have my eyes." A look up to where the hawk was perched, giving small peeps. One of his trusted companions that never strayed too far from the playwright.

-

There was a nod. Biming knew well enough, and would keep it in mind. Even as he glanced to the hawk who waited and watched. It gave some peace, and a tinge of warmth but those sentiments had to be discarded for now.

They were potential weaknesses. Mihn'a had lost those conveniences just as he had lost his name after all.

"Yes. Now get going, and be cautious."

-

Another order he took another step back before disappearing under the shadow of the banner and into the growing evening, no sound to even mark his passing. Still the hawk stay perched, watching over the inn with soft noises every once in awhile.

[cottontail20]

Five Times The Avengers Visited The Baby Maximoff Twins, And One Time They Visited An Avenger, Chapter 6: And One Time They Visited An Avenger

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/18037973/chapters/43046726

Wanda had meant to go earlier than this. She really had.

She had meant to take the boys much earlier than this.

But time and again, things derailed her plans.

At first, she had just been so exhausted, still recovering after the epic battle against Thanos. When they first arrived at the Barton House, she had felt like she could sleep for days.. Maybe she had, although that was a bit of a blur. She remembered waking to feed the twins, to cuddle with them. Vision had handled most of the diapers in that time, however long it had actually been, and Wanda was grateful for that.

Then, it had taken some time for everything to settle down. For Wanda to believe that she was actually free, that she didn't have to run anymore, didn't have to hide, didn't have to be afraid of being caught and returned to The Raft. That she and Vision were free to be together, all the time, as much as they wanted. They'd been at the Bartons for just over a month before Wanda stopped waiting for Vision to walk out with a packed suitcase claiming that his visit was over, and he had to be at the train station in the morning.

But Vision wasn't going anywhere. They were free to be together, free to raise Tommy and Billy in peace. There had been a brief moment of panic when Secretary Ross had tried asking a few uncomfortable questions about where exactly the twins had come from. Tony had shut him down immediately. To drive the point home, Thor had not so subtly told him about how easily Stormbreaker could smash human skulls, and The Hulk had emerged from Bruce's psyche just long enough to roar,

"NO TOUCH TWINS!"

If that hadn't been enough, Natasha had apparently sent Ross a letter that had made him turn rather pale. He stopped asking questions.

So, with their situation now stable, Wanda had begun planning an important trip with her boys.

But with stability came comfort. Maybe a little too much comfort, and Wanda dawdled in her plan making.

Unfortunately, Tommy and Billy started teething, so Wanda and Vision decided to postpone things again, as taking a pair of cranky sleep-deprived babies on a road trip did not seem like a good idea.

Then, their cottage was ready, so they delayed the trip again, because poor Clint's house was getting much too cluttered with their things. They decided to move in and get themselves settled into their new Home before they tried again. --

Wanda had not put this trip off intentionally, despite how the delays might have made it seem.

She wasn't forgetting Pietro. She could never forget Pietro. The anniversary of his death was coming around again, and it felt like now was the time.

Wanda was finally going to introduce her children to her brother.

Vision gently broke Wanda out of her thoughts, kissing her forehead. He had safely strapped the twins into their borrowed car.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked her gently.

"Yes" Wanda nodded. "Let's go." --

The trip was relatively pleasant, as much as road trips to a loved one's final resting place could be, and they were making pretty good time, even with regular stops to feed and change the boys.

Vision was a perfect road trip driver as he didn't often need to rest. He was the perfect partner for Wanda in this trip, just like he was her perfect partner in everything else. He understood when she just wanted to quietly reflect on their destination. He listened intently whenever she did speak.

He even managed to make her laugh, singing along when the Spice Girls came on the radio. --

They had made plans to stay at the Avengers Compound while they were in town, but upon reaching the city, the first thing they did was head for the S.H.I.E.L.D cemetery. Pietro had been waiting too long.

As the headstone they were looking for came into view, Vision paused, handing both Tommy and Billy to Wanda.

"I'll wait here for a bit. Give you a few moments alone with him."

Wanda leaned up to kiss him.

"I love you.."

"I know. I love you too. Now go on.."

Wanda took a shaky breath as she continued forwards. She stopped and knelt in front of her twin's headstone. Sat the boys just in front of her, ready to catch either of them in an instant if they toppled, but they could usually sit up on their own now. She tugged a few weeds away from the stone, but the area seemed remarkably well-kept considering no relatives had been around to maintain it for a while.

"I'm back, Pietro" Wanda whispered. "I.. Ti-am adus nepotii, Tommy and Billy. You would have loved them, and I know they would have loved you.. No.." Wanda paused to wipe a tear from her eye, then corrected herself. "They will love you, Pietro. They will know you are, I'll tell them.. and you'll love them, because you are watching over us, aren't you?"

Almost as if in reply to her question, a small gust of wind lightly rustled Wanda's hair.

"Fratele meu mai mare" Wanda smiled softly. "Of course you are. Tommy is going to be like you, I think. Speedy. I had enough trouble with you, I don't know how we'll keep up with a super fast toddler.." --

Wanda sat there for a while, sharing a one-sided conversation with her brother that somehow didn't feel one-sided at all. The twins, seeming to instinctively know how important this was to her, were perfectly behaved.

When Wanda turned to call Vision to join her, she was surprised to see that he wasn't alone.

The Avengers were there, all of them. Even Sam, Bucky, and Peter, none of whom had ever even met Pietro. Most of them were holding flowers. Clint was clutching a hand-made card covered in a small child's untidy scrawl.

Wanda looked to Vision, wondering if he had somehow planned this, but Vision shrugged, apparently as confused as she was. Wanda scooped up Tommy and Billy and stood, making her way towards the group.

Peter was wearing a suit that didn't quite fit. Tony shook his head at the boy as Wanda approached.

"I said casual, quiet get-together, kid.."

"I wanted to be respectful!"

"You look very nice, Peter" Wanda smiled.

"Thank you, Miss Maximoff" Peter blushed.

"Now.." Wanda looked around at them all, "We're always happy to see you, but I do have to wonder what you're all doing here.."

"We just wanted to pay our respects" said Natasha.

"But.. Why?"

"The kid was an Avenger" said Tony, as if that explained everything.

"That makes him family" added Steve, "Even though we didn't know him long."

Wanda held back a sudden rush of happy tears.

"Thank you.. He would have been glad to know he was so fondly remembered.." --

The Avengers left their flowers and trinkets on Pietro's grave, and then Tony declared a party in Pietro's honour back at the compound.

As they left the Cemetery, Vision took Billy from Wanda, then wrapped his free arm around her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

"Much better than I thought" Wanda told him. "I was surprised there were so few weeds around his headstone.."

"Ah.." Vision smiled. "Remember when I told you that Tony used to give me a very generous allowance?"

"Yes.."

"Well, before I left for Wakanda, I may have given the Groundskeeper a very generous tip in exchange for upkeep of Pietro's resting place.."

Wanda kissed him.

"I really love you" she smiled.

"I love you too." Vision grinned.

Notes:

AN: Done! I'll start the full sequel for Nothing Is Impossible soon.

Translation:

Ti-am adus nepotii: I've brought your nephews.

Fratele meu mai mare: My big brother.

[damnedcrybaby]

CHEAT SHEET: THE BACKGROUND STORY

Quick info: MULTI-VERSE / MULTI-SHIP / OC / FANDOMLESS / RP Default Verse: WESTERN / COUNTRYSIDE AND JUST TRYING TO SURVIVE Link for: CAROLINE // DANIEL // ELIJAH // & the RULES!

Caroline & Daniel have the same mother (Lilly) and father (Levi). Elijah has a different mother (Melanie), but the same father (Levi) as the other two.

Fun bit is-- none of them knew that until recently...

Levi Jackson, the father of all three- lovingly referred to as PAPA by Caroline & Daniel- had Elijah with an old girlfriend (Melanie), back when they were quite young. Melanie wasn’t comfortable with Levi’s racketeering schemes, but his only other option for honest work was to go back to caring for his father’s homestead, as a farmer: which, she assumed correctly, wouldn’t pay the bills. This led to the dissolution of their relationship, but after Elijah was born, his mother decided to send Levi a photograph of him, which rekindled their conversations at least... They tried to co-parent, but that wore off after a few years when Melanie decided she’d have better opportunities in the city.

Levi begged for an address to write to, and promised to send money. Knowing she’d need financial assistance to raise Elijah-- Melanie agreed.

And so, over the course of Elijah’s lifetime, Levi would write to Melanie at least once a week, and would send money in most of them. Of course: Melanie knew the amount of money he’d sent was plenty out of means of a simple farmer... but she needed the cash and Elijah wanted to be a lawyer.. so she accepted the funds and turned a blind eye. 

Well, as blind of one as she could. Unfortunately, she saw Levi most every time she had to look Elijah in the face: and though she loved her son more than anything... it pained her to see him: so she bleached his hair when he was young, and made him wear thick-rimmed glasses... a sorry attempt to disguise his father’s features.

Meanwhile, with Melanie and Elijah out in The Big City-- Levi met Caroline & Daniel’s mother, Lilly, and fell in love. She’d always loved the simple lifestyle: grew up on a farm herself, so she fit in just perfect with Levi’s ‘honest living’, and was very content with the budget such employment would leave them with. They were absolutely, undeniably in love, and supported each other damn near blindly: Lilly knew there had to be a reason Levi would go visit all the shopkeepers in town while wearing his suits, she knew the men who’d come around asking for him couldn’t possibly be his family in the typical sense, and she knew there had to be deals going on under tables in order for the Preacher Men to shiver when they shook Levi’s hand at church...

It was when she fell pregnant with Daniel that ignorance stopped being bliss, and she asked to know only the necessities: Levi told her he had business with other men in town, and he revealed the existence of Elijah and Melanie. Lilly insisted he continue to do whatever would be needed for his son, but he made it clear Melanie did not want the families to intertwine. Despite her disapproval, Lilly never argued, and only asked that he make sure their own family is financially stable enough.

He never backed down on the promise-- though their budget was meager in most aspects, it was plenty for the two of them, and Lilly never wanted the big house or fancy cars.

They had Daniel, and years later, darling Caroline came along.

Caroline was sickly most of her young life-- doctors couldn’t quite place the WHY or WHAT; but she survived, despite the illness stunting her growth. Papa (Levi) poured money into taking her to different doctors, and donating as tithes in hopes God could help them where Man failed... He’s not quite sure who deserves the credit for his just-past-five-foot bundle of joy, but she survived and remained the light of his life. He’d bring her along to meetings with his FRIENDS, and she’d sit up sweet and pretty with a smile, but they’d give her quarters for getting candy sticks before business was ever discussed.

Daniel was never one for school-- but the boy was built like a brick house. He grew up trailing behind Papa and learning different trades, mostly construction and the general necessities for keeping up the farm. He’d met them gentlemen too, but mostly preferred to stay behind and take care of the crops or animals: he felt lesser than them, with his dirty cheeks and fingernails while they wore ties and nice shoes... wasn’t really comfortable being around them, felt like they were UP to something...

Levi had intended on leaving the homestead and his side business in Daniel’s care when he retired: but knew the boy would need to finish schooling first. Unfortunately for the lot of them... they never quite got that far.

Papa fell ill, fast. Stomach problems, mostly. Ceased to be able to keep on weight or keep much food down- doctors couldn’t place the cause... Mama took on as much as she could, believing they needed more money in order to properly maintain their homestead.  Daniel dropped out of school, gladly, to take on the responsibility of the only moneymaker he knew-- the barn, the crops, the animals, and general handiwork for extra cash. Caroline stayed in school only because her father insisted; but during those formative social years of school dances and teenagers fumbling with each other in fast cars... she’d come straight home to take care of Papa, and to take over the domestic duties so Mama and Daniel wouldn’t have to worry about cooking or cleaning. The gentlemen stopped coming around... conveniently...

Levi’s death devastated all three of them. A few years later, Lilly was buried up on the hill right alongside him. Mama and Papa; together, forever.

Daniel and Caroline were left with broken hearts, and bruised hopes. All he wanted was to fulfill his father’s legacy-- despite not knowing what that was, exactly. All she wanted was to escape-- despite knowing she’d have to chop herself at the roots in order to get away from the place.

Years down the line, after the Jackson siblings pretty much accepted their lot in life: Elijah’s mother fell ill and she gave him Levi’s letters on her death bed, along with all the extra money she hadn’t yet given him. He used only what was necessary, and had also received a hefty inheritance upon her leaving the world, to finish his schooling. With some connections through Professors, he even landed a great job at a prestigious law firm.

But it felt cheap, despite the sky-rise or the floor-to-ceiling windows. He needed more, than the good job and abundance of funds, and decided to leave it all behind in order to go look for the man who’d penned all those letters to his mother...

Unfortunately, he was too late. Papa was already long gone, and when he knocked on the door of that dilapidated homestead: it was little bitty Caroline who answered the door and nearly had a heart attack at the sight of him.

He looked exactly like Levi, to the most minute details, and she knew before he even cleared up the confusion-- he had to be a GHOST or BLOOD... but he was more than willing to dismiss the terror on her face when he felt how she actually looked at him for what felt like the first time in his life...

Which is where we are now...

With Daniel, loathing the thought of an elder brother, who wears his fancy clothes in his nice corner office, while he works by the sweat of his brow just to take care of himself and his sister.

WHERE DID ALL THE MONEY COME FROM!? WHERE DID IT GO!? WHY WAS IT MAILED TO ELIJAH INSTEAD OF SAVED FOR A NEST EGG THEY COULD HAVE DESPERATELY USED!?

With Caroline, both excited over the prospect of learning all about this city-slicker’s life, and delighted over having a piece of her father back that she didn’t know existed.

WHAT WAS UNIVERSITY LIKE!? WHAT WAS THE CITY LIKE, AND THE PEOPLE THERE?! WHY DID IT TAKE SO LONG FOR THEIR PATHS TO ALL PROPERLY CROSS!?

With Elijah, heartbroken over discovering he’s truly an orphan, but desperate to keep a hold on the only shreds of family he’s found actually exist.

WHAT WAS IT LIKE GROWING UP WITH SIBLINGS INSTEAD OF ALONE!? WHAT WAS LEVI, PAPA! LIKE!? WHAT WAS HAVING A FATHER LIKE!? HOW DID LEVI MANAGE TO SEND HIM SO MUCH MONEY WHILE THE REST OF THE FAMILY SUFFERED!?

... and, most notably, who were those gentlemen Elijah had met in town who wanted to steal peeks at the letters he’d hardly mentioned when asking for directions to the return address...?

[teenmomtruths]

Reunion thoughts: Loved post jail Amber Thought she REALLY was gonna make someone of herself Matt comes in: knows exactly how to work her & does his thing…. Amber becomes the craZy person she was trying to fight… I don’t think the years of online bashing helped (I took part in it, I’ll admit) I think that’s why she stayed “to prove the infamous haters wrong.” But I think now she’s FINALLLLY seeing it and despite the bullshit she’s said and come to in defense of Matt, I really hope she leaves this loser and gets back on track. Watching the reunion it amazes me how she was so quick to dive right into it. My fiancé and I have been together 5 years, 4 dating, 1 engaged and we’ve put our names on 4 things together. The house we closed on 2 months ago, and the 3 dogs we’ve rescued. His account is HIS and mine is MINE. We both do well for ourself so maybe that’s the big difference we don’t depend on one another in that sense $$$$$, so I thought it was realllllly crazy Matts in charge of bills and has access to hers considering my man and I are the opposites, we sit down 2x a month and pay our bills / household bills TOGETHER so we know exactly when and how much is going and where it going. I hope Amber gets back to her post jail self, I hope she does it for her and for Leah. I’m slowly getting back into Ambers corner but she needs to see a psychiatrist.

I love Gary. He’s an amazing father and Kristina is a damn good woman for doing her part. Kudos to them and I hope they keep extending the olive branch Ambers way, I hope Amber can keep seeing them as the stable, smart & “goals” relationship Gary and Kristina Are.

Ok next part of my rant… this maybe long but it’s personal to me—-

FUCK MACKENZIE. YOU YOUNG DUMB LADY. Grow up. If you can have a fucking child and A fucking husband you can be accountable and not shift fucking blame. Bitch. This whole scene hit to close to home for me….

My younger brother struggles with addiction (started with pills after a car accident, turned into heroin and opioid’s within a year). Anyone who knows an addict knows it’s an incurable disease they’re going to struggle with every day for the rest of their life.

My brother first got help in 2010, 2 years into his addiction. My parents were in denial about EVERYTHING. My sister and I were the driving force behind him getting help. Even when he was at rehab for the first time my mom Would joke and call it summer camp… she didn’t was the stigma (my dad 99% goes along with whatever my mom says. Dad has a popular small local business and doesn’t like to make waves in the community and didn’t wanna be the talk of the town.)

Jump ahead a couple years (2012/ 2013 around that time, now about 4 years into addiction) and my brother is still on and off using, shooting up, my sister and I are both emotionally destroyed from now years of trying to help him as well as open my parents eyes. Needless to say were beyond drained and I’m not even sure how we’re still functioning…. but we still care because that’s our brother. That Christmas in walks a curvy red head with a British accent on my brothers arm. Polite, pretty, and absolutely adores my brother. Typical Christmas dinner, my brothers high as a kite… red head “doesn’t notice.” As he nodding off at the table while my moms hysterically crying this broad is worried about his “cold” and “the meds he’s taking for his cold.”

St Paddys Day comes around and so does my parents annual party… my brother OD’s in the master bath. My sister does the best she can but CPR doesn’t help we have to call the cops. My brother ends up in the hospital. My sister and I take my brother from the hospital to rehab!!!! And this red head has the NERVE to show up at my sisters door with a letter that she proceeded to read to us… meanwhile we thought this was something she was sending to him… nope it was for us. She blamed us for embarrassing my brother and my parents for calling the cops, tells us we’ve created a stigma of the family name were tied to an addict and were embarrassing ourself BLAHHH BLAHH BLAHHH well the cops were called again that day because my sister attacked the red head… this adding more stigma to the fam name LOL once my brother was out & learned of all this he broke it off. She was right though about the stigma to our name. And you know wtf my brother did with the stigma? (& $$ from my parents who wanted to erase the stigma)

OPENED UP A SOBER LIVING HOUSE IN OUR HOME TOWN. First one the town had ever had. Took 1 month until it reached full capacity of 33 patients. My brother took the well known and established family name and made something of himself. Just like the fuck Ryan COULD/CAN. Stop worry about drug addiction being a bad thing. It’s a fucking disease and most fucking people get that. Do something positive with the fucking stigma. Be open about you’re recovery. Don’t be ashamed and embrSsed. If you know someone struggling SAY SOMETHING. BE A VOICE BE A SHOULDER TO LEAN ON DONT GO AROUND BLAMING OTHERS. FUCKING SPIN THAT SHIT INTO SOMETHING GOOD. NOT TO BE CLICHE BUT THERES ALWAYS A SILVER LINING. Unless you sit back and worry about what small minded people will think of you.

Maci struck close to home because I’ve walked in very, very similar shoes. Mackenzie struck close to home because she reminded me of Lucinda, the red headed bitch who was more worried about stigma then recovery. You live and spend time with someone like That and you learn there highs and lows pretty quick, when they’re high, really high, and when they low. Don’t place the blame Mackenzie, be a woman and be there for your man. After seeing that and hearing that letter there’s very little hope that these two will make the marriage work. Neither one take addiction or recovery seriously enough.

-------------------------------------------------- So much love to you and your brother!!!!!

[artificialqueens]

The Ballad of Violet and Pearl (Chapter 4) - Scarlet

A/N - set mostly in the 1950’s, the idea came from Jinkx’s song ‘The Ballad of Johnny and Jack’ and influenced the story. Also influenced by Thelma and Louise. ‘Ballad’ in the 50’s was a term used for a love letter.

TW - angsty, slightly angry smut, homophobic slurs. 

Chapter 4

February 1949 - Florida

Matt flicked through the paper on his lap, more for something to do than actual interest in it. The machines hooked up to her were whirring and beeping so loudly he couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of him anyway. He’d been here with Jason for the best part of the last week. His mom was at deaths door and Jason obviously didn’t want to leave her side. And Matt, being his best friend, wouldn’t let Jason go through this alone. Of course he had Ru who came to visit and Katya and Kasha from the diner had been in with flowers. But Matt was vigil. Even if Mrs Dardo didn’t like him very much.

He’d never understood it himself. He was always polite to her, he always showed her the upmost respect. He was pretty much Jason’s only friend but that still didn’t garner him the woman’s affection. She never so much said she didn’t like Matt, he guessed it was more of a vibe. She was always short with him and always seemed fed up when he came to their apartment. It was like Matt was some kind of germ she couldn’t wait to get rid of.

Matt sighed and folded the paper back up. He was surprised to see Mrs Dardo’s large brown eyes looking right at him. He thought she’d been asleep. 

‘Uhm…hi Mrs Dardo.’ Matt stood up from the chair. ‘Do you want me to get Jason? He just popped out, I’ll go and-’

‘No.’ she cut him off. Her breathing was low and raspy. She looked incredibly frail. ‘We need to talk. Sit Matthew.‘ 

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat and did as he was told. His hands were shaking a little. 

‘What’s up Mrs Dardo?’ Never in the ten years he’d known her had she ever told Matt to call her by her first name. 

'Matthew, I don’t have a lot of time left.’ She paused, practically panting as she talked. She must be in a lot of pain Matt thought. 'And I need to make sure Jason is going to be ok when I’m gone.’

'Ru’s going to take real good care of him Mrs Dardo, I swear.’

'It’s not Ru I’m worried about.’ Her tone was still pointed as it always was towards Matt. Matt swallowed again.

'What is it then?' Just spit it out.

'Jason’s very easily manipulated.’ She told Matt. Matt frowned. Jason, easily manipulated? That didn’t sound like the Jason that Matt knew. 

'Uhm ok?’ He scratched the back of his head.

'I don’t want him turning out like you Matthew.' 

'Like me?’ Matt bit his lip. Did she know about his past? Did she know about Violet and Pearl? 

'Yes.’ She panted. 'I don’t want my son being…one of your kind.' 

My kind? What the heck does that mean? 

'Mrs Dardo, with all due respect I have no idea what you’re talking about.' 

She sighed heavily, clearly frustrated.

'Do I have to spell it out for you?’ She grumbled. 'I’ve seen the way you look at my son. I don’t care what you want to get up to in your free time but my son will not be a…a…faggot.' She spat the last word as though it was poison in her tongue. Matt’s heart skipped a beat and he frowned. Is that why she didn’t like him? This whole time is that what she’d thought of him?

'I’m not…I think you’ve got this all wrong. Jason and I are just friends. I like girls.’ Where was she getting this from? 

'Matthew I might be old but I’m not a fool.’ She sighed again. 'I just want you to promise me that you won’t drag Jason into your…nonsense. He’s going to meet a nice girl, he’s going to get married and have kids. I don’t want you getting in his head with all your ways.’

Matt’s head was spinning. Why did she think he was gay? Maybe it was the medication she was on? Clearly she wasn’t thinking straight.

'Mrs Dardo, I’m not-’

'Promise me Matthew.’ She cut him off. He sighed, he knew arguing with her was pointless. He didn’t want to argue with a dying woman. And also, there was a small part of Matt that knew if he’d tried to argue with her, he’d be lying to himself. But he ignored that, he’d done a really good job at ignoring that for a long time. It was different when they hooked up as Violet and Pearl, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He wasn’t gay, absolutely no way.

'Fine.’ He gave in. 'I promise.' Think what you want you old bat. 

'There’s a good boy.’ She smiled smugly at him. Just then the door opened and Jason walked in.

'Mom, you’re awake!’ He smiled brightly.

'Jason darling.’ She breathed. 'Come sit with me. Matthew was just leaving.’

'You were?’ Jason looked at Matt sadly. Matt clenched his jaw.

'I guess so.’ He shrugged and stood up from the chair. 'I’ll see you later yeah?’ He gave Jason a half-smile.

'Sure.’ Jason smiled back, his eyes sparkling a little. 

'Bye Mrs Dardo.’ Matt said under his breath. He left them alone after that, her words buzzing around his head. Mrs Dardo passed away the next day. And years later her words would still haunt Matt.

————————————

July 1953 - Ontario

'What are you doing out here?’ The voice came from behind him. He ignored it and carried on sipping his beer. 'Don’t ignore me.’ The voice came again. 'I don’t particularly like coming out the bathroom to find you gone.' 

Matt rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t see because he had his back to him. He swigged the remains of the beer and tossed the bottle into the darkness of the trees. He quickly opened another one and started swigging it. Jason sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He wrapped the robe tighter around his body and came and sat next to Matt on the grass. 'I thought things were getting better between us.' 

Matt continued swigging the beer, he’d had a fair few tonight and was feeling a little tipsy. 'For god sakes Matt would you fucking look at me? Talk to me? Give me something!' 

'What do you want me to say?’ Matt finally spoke and turned to look at Jason, although it wasn’t Jason he was looking at, not entirely. He only wore a robe and he had his natural hair but he was wearing Violet’s make-up. 

'I want you to tell me what the heck is going on with you! I thought we moved passed Vegas months ago!’ Jason was exhausted with this. Things had been horrible between them since Jason had confessed to Matt that he thought he was gay. Matt barely spoke to him or barely looked at him for months. They hadn’t been Violet and Pearl since that night in Vegas and Matt never shared a bed with him anymore. They’d continued driving around the country, at more than one point Jason had thought about just going home but he knew he couldn’t. He was sure the cops would have figured out by now that Pearl and Violet were the ones responsible for Billy Ray’s death which would mean the heat would be up in their hometown. Not to mention the fact that Courtney probably wanted Jason’s head on a stick. So he was stuck with Matt, something that a little while ago wouldn’t have been a bad thing. But his best friend didn’t look at him the same anymore. But they were tied together in all of this, there was no way they could split up. They’d come to Ontario about a month ago. News of the shooting hadn’t seemed to reach the border so they felt safer here. They’d rented a cabin with some of the stolen Vegas money and had been staying here for some time. It had been nice being in one place for a while, things started to feel stable for a change. And since they’d been here they’d seemed to be getting along better. They slept in different rooms but Matt had been more willing to engage Jason in conversation and things felt like they were slowly getting better. Until now. 

'It’s still weird for me ok? I’m still trying to process it Jason. And to top everything off, despite everything, I miss home ok? I miss my parents, I miss the diner. But there’s no way we can go back. When I decided to leave I didn’t really believe it would be forever but now…it has to be.’ He downed some more beer. Jason could hear the sadness in his voice.

'Why didn’t you talk to me about it?’ Jason put his hand on Matt’s leg but Matt pushed him away. 

'I don’t know.’

'I do.’ Jason sighed. 'Because this thing, me being…you know…it’s changed the way you look at me. You don’t see me as your best friend anymore. You think I’m disgusting.’ Jason sniffed and he pushed himself up off the grass. Matt sighed and downed his beer. He tossed the bottle and stood up, feeling a little tipsy as he did so. He caught up to Jason as he was heading back up the driveway towards the cabin.

'Jason I don’t think your disgusting.’ He grabbed his wrist. Jason turned to look at him. It was the first time he’d touched him since Vegas.

'Really? It sure feels that way.' 

'I’m just processing it ok? It scares me Jason.’

'Scares you? My sexuality scares you? Fucking ace.’ Jason snatched his arm back from Matt’s hold and stormed towards the cabin. Matt followed him. 

'That’s not what I meant! Jason come back.’ Matt chased him inside. Jason came to a stop in the living room. The fire was lit and it was the only thing illuminating the room. 'It’s complicated ok?' 

I just want you to promise me that you won’t drag Jason into you…nonsense. He’s going to meet a nice girl, he’s going to get married and have kids. I don’t want you getting in his head with all your ways.

Mrs Dardo’s words buzzed around his head. He’d managed to forget about them for a while but since Vegas they’d be at the forefront of his mind again. 

'Complicated how? Just face it Matt, you’re disgusted by me now. I know we can’t go back to Florida but maybe it’s time we went our separate ways. I don’t want to be around you when you’re treating me like-’ Jason was cut off. Matt had come closer to him and grabbed him by his shoulders. And then Matt’s lips were on his. Matt had no idea where the kiss had come from, especially not with Mrs Dardo’s words in his head but he didn’t care anymore. He tasted Violet’s lipstick on Jason’s lips. He wrapped his arms tightly around him and they ended up on the floor in front of the fire, Matt straddling Jason. They messily made out for some time, panting and moaning softly as they rolled about on the floor. They were both hard and grinding their hips into each other. Suddenly Matt stopped kissing him and stood up. He looked down at Jason with eyes so dark, Jason couldn’t tell why though.

'With me.’ He nodded his head and turned around. Jason watched him from the floor as he left the room. Confused, he got up and followed Matt upstairs to the bedroom. Matt sat on the edge of the bed unbuttoning his pants. He nodded at Jason once more to come closer. As soon as he was in reach, Matt grabbed his arm roughly and forced Jason down onto his knees on the floor.

'Blow me you whore.’ He spat, his eyes even darker now. Jason bit his lip.

'Uhm, excuse me?' 

'I said blow me, Violet.' 

Jason was taken aback. Sure he had Violet’s make-up on but he was mostly Jason. And he’d managed to fool himself into thinking that Matt wanted Jason this time. Matt grabbed Jason by his hair and pulled him towards his crotch and the bulge in his underwear. 'You never normally have a problem getting down on your knees Vi, why so shy?’ Matt smirked. This was all so weird. For starters Matt was Matt and not Pearl and they never hooked up under these circumstances. Secondly, they never did foreplay, it was always a quick fuck, getting their rocks off and then it was over. Jason didn’t know what to make of this. He wanted to say no, he wanted to tell Matt where to go. But apparently Violet’s submissive personality was taking over. It seemed she wasn’t just a sucker for Pearl, she was for Matt as well. Matt freed his erection from his pants and tugged on Jason’s hair.

'Well? Don’t keep me waiting whore.' 

For some reason, being called a whore made Jason’s already hard dick throb achingly. The way Matt said it made him feel dirty, but in an amazing way. So he found himself wrapping his lips around Matt’s swollen head and lapping his tongue over his slit. Matt hissed and tugged his hair again.

'There’s a good whore.' 

Jason didn’t have to do a lot of work as Matt practically started fucking his mouth. He was thrusting in and out of Jason’s mouth so hard, it was a good job that Jason’s gag reflex was practically non-existent. He left behind a trail of red lipstick on Matt’s member and he found himself palming his own dick outside his pants. As Matt’s orgasm drew near he was muttering things about Violet being a dirty whore under his breath. He continued to tug on Jason’s hair, his thrusts getting a little lazy and Jason knew it meant he was close. It barely took any time at all for Jason to make Matt come with his mouth and when he did Jason swallowed every last drop. He got off Matt’s dick and Matt fell back to the bed. 

'Jesus Vi.’ He panted. Jason clenched his jaw.

'What about me?’ He stood up and put his hands on his hips. Matt looked up at him through sleepy eyes.

'What about you?’ He grunted. Jason had a wave of dominance and anger surge through his body. Push over Violet was gone. He got on the bed and straddled Matt, grabbing his face hard. 

'We ain’t finished here.’ Jason told him sternly. He kissed Matt roughly and managed to strip them both of them their clothes. He grabbed some lube and a condom and coated his fingers.

'What are you doing Vi?’ Matt panted, looking at him a little concerned.

'Not Violet.’ Jason shook his head. 'This is all Jason.' 

Before Matt could say anymore Jason inserted a finger into Matt’s hole. Matt groaned and his eyes widened. They’d never done this before, Jason was always the one getting fucked. But Matt needed to know he couldn’t push him around anymore. 

'Vi, what the heck?’ Matt practically growled. With his free hand, Jason grabbed his face again.

'Shut up and take it.’ He spat, inserting another finger. He started scissoring Matt, he couldn’t wait much longer. He needed to open him up as quickly as possible; he was desperate. Matt didn’t speak but he was looking at Jason in confusion the whole time. It kind of made Jason hornier. He inserted a third finger just to make sure Matt was going to be ready for him. Jason could already feel his own pre-cum leaking from his dick. He needed this and he needed this now. He removed his fingers and ripped open the condom packet with his teeth while Matt just watched. He rolled it over his aching dick and then coated some lube on. He smothered Matt’s hole in the stuff too. 

'Violet, what’s going on?’ Matt spoke again, his eyes looked a little frightened. Jason grabbed Matt’s face again.

'I told you, it’s Jason.’ He grunted and grabbed Matt’s legs and wrapped them around his waist. He didn’t waste any more time, he edged his way inside Matt. Matt groaned and yelped a little at the sensation. Jason remembered the first time Pearl had fucked him all too well and he remembered it hurting. It soon goes though, Matt would just have to suck it up. It was a whole new experience for Jason as well, he’d never topped before, and with it came a whole new kind of pleasure. This wasn’t even comparable to sex with Courtney. He quickened his pace and Matt started making the most incredible moaning noises and Jason guessed that meant he found his prostate so he continued to aim there. Matt’s dick had hardened again and Jason took it in his hand and started pumping it in time with his thrusts. Matt was staring directly in his eyes, his forehead damp with sweat. 

'Holy heck.’ He panted biting hard on his bottom lip. 'Oh my god…Jason! Oh god Jason!’ He moaned. Jason faltered a little hearing his own name leave Matt’s lips. It was never Jason. Always Violet. 

'Say my name bitch.’ Jason slapped his ass and quickened his pace further. 

'Jason fuck…fucking hell Jason.’ Matt was a complete mess, Jason had never seen him like this before. Hearing him moan his name was enough to take Jason over the edge and he came, digging his nails into the flesh of Matt’s thigh. He didn’t slide out, he just kept pumping Matt’s dick.

'Oh my god.’ Matt was panting really heavily now. 'Gonna…gonna come…’ he moaned deeply. As his orgasm hit for a second time and he spilled his load on Jason’s hand, a slightly incoherent babble of words left his lips. But Jason heard them. And his whole body froze. As Matt came he muttered under his breath, 'Jason…I love you.' 

Jason pulled out finally and crawled backwards on the bed. Matt sat up looking just as shocked as Jason did.

'Jason I don’t know where that came from.’ Matt covered himself with the sheet. Jason stood up and turned his back on Matt. He stripped off the condom and started getting dressed again. 

'You…uhm…I need to go.’ He quickly threw the robe back on.

'Jason, I didn’t mean to say that.’

'I’m tired.’ Jason croaked, feeling strangely numb. He went to leave the room and Matt jumped up from the bed. He threw his underwear on and followed Jason. He caught up to him in the hall and grabbed his arm. 

'Jason, let me explain.' 

'It’s fine.’ Jason looked confused, sad and scared all at once. 'It was just a thing that came out in the moment, that’s all. Nothing to explain.’ He shook Matt off his arm.

'I’m not sure it was. Jason I think that-’

'Don’t.’ Jason cut him off. 'Just don’t.’

'Why not? I think that’s why I’ve been this way since Vegas. I’ve been trying to hide from-’

'I said don’t!’ Jason yelled. 'We can’t. This…this…no.’ Jason shook his head. 

'Jason.’ Matt’s eyes turned sad. 'Why are you being like this?' 

'Because,’ Jason sniffed. 'I have to be. I’m going to bed and tomorrow we’re just going to forget all about this.' 

'I don’t want to forget about it! Dammit Jason fucking talk to me!’

'No!’ Jason yelled again. 'Not now, not ever.’ He spat a little angrier than he’d meant to. 'Goodnight Matt.’ He bit his lipstick smeared lips feeling as though he might breakdown any second. 

'Fuck you.’ Matt spat. Jason sighed and turned away. His heart ached as he turned his back on Matt. Every inch of Jason’s body was filled with love for that man. Every beat of his heart was for him. The blood pulsing through his veins pulsed for him. But he was a coward, he’d always been a coward. And he knew Matt was better off hating him, even if that broke Jason’s own heart it was worth it. He’d made him a promise, and he intended to keep it.

————————————

December 1948 - Florida

Jason stared down into the mug of coffee, watching aimlessly as the steam rose from it. He was mesmerised by it, hypnotised almost. He just needed to take his mind off the inevitable. 

He heard him slide in opposite him in the booth. He knew who it was without having to look up from the mug. He heard him clear his throat.

'How’s your mom? I haven’t had a chance to see her this week.’

'She’s not good. She gets weaker every day. The doctors think she’ll need to be moved into hospital soon.’ Jason looked up his company, his large brown eyes were brimming with tears.

'Have they said how long?’ Ru asked him softly. 

'A few months, tops.’ Jason wrapped his hands around the mug to soak up its warmth. 

'You know you’ve always got me, don’t you Jason? No matter what happens, I’m always going to be here for you.’ He smiled at the younger boy. Jason nodded a little stiffly.

'Yeah I know. If you don’t mind, I don’t really want to talk about it.’ He looked away from Ru and his eyes ran over the faces in the diner. 

'So where’s Matthew? He hasn’t been in for a while.’ Ru spoke again. Jason tore his eyes away from where Kasha was pouring someone a coffee and turned back to Ru. Ru saw Jason’s eyes light up a little at the mention of his friend’s name but the light quickly went out. 

'I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in a while.’ Jason sighed again. Things with Matt since the whole Violet and Pearl thing had started had been a little weird. They’d only dressed up as them a couple of times, pulled off a couple of small robberies and afterwards they would hook up. A few weeks ago, on a high after a liquor store robbery, Matt had taken Jason’s virginity. Jason may well have taken Matt’s too, he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t talked about it and ever since Matt had been avoiding him. 

'He’s not been at school?’ Ru raised an eyebrow.

'Not so much.’ Jason confessed.

'Has he been in trouble with the fuzz again?' 

'I honestly don’t know Ru. He’s not speaking to me.' 

'Why not?’

Jason finally lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip. It was more of a stalling tactic than anything.

'Just dumb teenage stuff. I’m sure he’ll get over it.' At least I hope he will. 

'You like him don’t you?’

'Of course I like him, he’s my best friend.’ Jason frowned although he had a pretty good idea of what Ru meant. Ru half-smiled at him and reached his hand across the table and put it on top of Jason’s.

'That’s not what I mean.’ His voice was barely above a whisper now. 'I know exactly what it’s like to be your age and confused about your sexuality.’

'I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Jason scoffed and pulled his hand out from under Ru’s. Jason knew Ru was gay and had done for a while. He’d come back to the diner once after closing because he’d forgotten his jacket. He’d let himself in the back door with his key and he’d found Ru and some guy making out in the kitchen. They’d had a long talk about it and Jason didn’t care that Ru was into men. He did care that Ru thought he was. 

'Jason, I went through the exact same thing. It’s hard to come to terms with I know. But no matter what people say, no matter what the law dictates, being gay is ok.' 

'That’s nice but I’m not gay.’ Jason lowered his voice now too. 

'Jason, I see the signs. I know what to look for. And I’ve seen the way you look at Matthew, the way you light up when he walks into a room. Heck, even when I mention his name your eyes sparkle a little.’

Jason bit his lip. All that stuff was true and he knew it. When Matt had taken his virginity it had been the most wonderful experience of his life. Getting to kiss Matt, getting to hold him, even if it was only when he was Pearl were the happiest moments of Jason’s life. He knew what that meant. He’d never been willing to admit it before. But if he were going to admit to anyone, it would be Ru.

'It wouldn’t matter anyway, Matt likes girls.’ He wrapped his hands around the mug again. 

'I wouldn’t be so sure about that.’ Ru half-smiled making Jason frown.

'What do you mean?' 

'Let’s just say, you’re not the only one that lights up when your best friend walks into a room.' 

'Not true.’ Jason scoffed. 

'I just need you to know that these feelings you have are ok Jason. But…’ he trailed off.

'But what?’ Jason frowned. Ru sighed and ran his hands over his bald head.

'I’m just not so sure Matthew is the person to be directing those feelings towards.' 

'Why not?' 

'He’s not good enough for you.’ Ru shrugged.

'You would say that.’ Jason rolled his eyes.

'Because it’s true. He’s a no good fink Jason. It’s all well and good you being friends but he is not the sort of guy you should be with. He’ll bring you down. He’ll put you in danger.' 

Jason refrained from laughing. If only you knew. Of course he knew Jason wasn’t a saint and he’d been caught shop lifting before but if Ru knew what he and Matt had been up to the last few months he’d probably disown him.

'He’s not all bad Ru. He’s just…misunderstood I guess.’

'Look Jason, I know the appeal of a bad boy all too well. But guys like Matthew can’t be tamed, no matter how much you think he can. He’ll never change, so it’s best to just steer clear.’

'You’re the one that brought this all up! Why sit there and ask me if I like Matt and when I admit I do, you tell me not to?’ Jason was more confused than he normally was about his feelings. Ru softened and took hold of Jason’s hand again.

'I need you to promise me something.’ He told him, seemingly ignoring what Jason had said.

'What?’ Jason pulled a face, he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. 

'Promise me that friends is all you and Matthew will ever be. He’ll only bring you down.’

'I don’t need to promise you that.’ He snatched his hand back. 'I told you Matt doesn’t like guys so it doesn’t-’

'Just humour an old man and promise me Jason?’ Ru cut him off. Jason sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He supposed it couldn’t hurt to just give Ru what he wanted because there was no way he and Matt ever stood a chance anyway.

'Ok, I promise.’ Jason told him. Ru smiled and got up from the booth.

'Good kid.’ He came around to Jason and placed a small kiss on his crown and then he was gone. Seconds later the bell above the door chimed. Jason looked up to see Matt stepping into the diner. His heart skipped a beat and he felt like his whole body was on fire as Matt looked over and half-smiled at him. He’d promised Ru they would never be more than friends. Chance would be a fine thing.