#is when they wipe out the audio of something interesting

[voidingintotheshout]

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[ovaryacted]

FEELING THE VIBE

PAIRING: ID!Leon x fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: After taking some inspiration from a magazine's sex story column, you and your boyfriend indulge in reenacting one of your new fantasies.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Oral (fem receiving). Body Worship. Overstimulation. Sex Toys. Sensory Depravation: Bondage & Blindfolding. Squirting. Multiple Orgasms. Dirty Talk. Praise. Domestication themes. Established relationship. Just Leon being a loving horny freak.

WC: 4.9k

NOTES: Finally after a little break, I have returned. This is the 3rd installment of my Kinktober (yes it's November I know), and it took a while for me to write this, but it's done. I was inspired by an erotic audio I heard a while back so I took a jab at it and made it my own. Sorry if it is a bit long, I tried to condense it but you can only fit so many words when writing out multiple orgasms. Anyway, you know the drill, I hope you like it, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

“I want to try something”

Your voice cut through the comforting silence of your living room, body shifting on the couch from where you sat. As your head remained pressed against soft cotton and muscle, your lover tilted his face to look down towards you.

“Don’t know if I should be excited or scared”, that got Leon a playful slap on the shoulder and a roll of your eyes, making him chuckle in the process.

“Lay it on me then sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”, he watched as you nervously bit your lip, sitting up to face him directly.

“Do you remember that magazine from a week ago? The one you snatched from me?”, you told him, and his mind flashed back to the faint memory of the interaction.

-

“And what’s this?”, Leon only grinned as he took the Cosmopolitan magazine from your hands after you flipped to the next page. He moved towards the kitchen, laughing as you chased him to get your precious publication back.

“Ooooo, top 10 sex stories hmm? So this is what you’ve been reading?”

“Leon quit playing! Give it back!”, you tried to snatch it from him but you knew it was futile. The moment his eyes scanned the page you were on, you could tell you lost the battle. 

“Me and my husband have been together for 6 years now and decided to spice things up in the bedroom. We did some research on things we could try and found out about sensory deprivation and overstimulation. That was something a bit trendy and I was intrigued, and I could speak for a few people who like me read Cosmopolitan for sex help so I decided to do some research. How kinky…”, you wanted to wipe the smirk clean off his face as he read the story you were skimming through. He took a second to look at you, and then back to the page as he continued reading it in his signature sarcastic tone.

“Over the weekend, after some wine we got in the mood and we tried out a few things. He tied me to the bed and blindfolded me while using one of my toys on me, which was all so new to us. I’ve never felt anything like that before, didn’t even know it was possible for me to cum so many times. I loved it, and my husband loved it probably a little too much because now he’s borderline obsessed with me. Thank you for all the work you do with your sex tips, you just made my marriage more fun, closing the orgasm gap one couple at a time. Much love!”, Leon finished reading the page, snickering when you finally grabbed it from him. “Wasn’t that something. You really read stuff like that?”

“No, I don’t. It just popped up on the page alright…”, your blush couldn’t be missed no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, and Leon only wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“If you wanted to try something new, all you had to do was tell me you know? It sounds like fun”, he teased at the suggestion, not making a big deal out of the idea of trying new things in the bedroom, but you knew he had your best interests in mind.

“You mean that?”, embarrassment aside, you looked at him, blue eyes full of sincerity. “I was just curious, and I was nervous to mention it I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to be nervous about anything, I’m not one to judge your fantasies anyway. You have them, I have them, everyone does. Whatever you want to do, no matter how crazy it seems, you tell me. I just want to make you happy”, Leon reassured you once more, holding your chin and giving you a soft kiss on the lips with a smile. “So go read more of your sex magazine, I’m going to start cooking”

“It is not just a sex magazine you know”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say”

-

“The one with the sex stories? Yeah, why?”, his voice brought you to the present once more, back to where you both sat on the couch.

“That one story you read out loud, I want to try that”, you felt your cheeks get warm at the change in topic. The gears in Leon’s head started to turn, his mind catching up to understand what you meant.

“Oh…oh. Like right now?”, he watched as you moved closer to him, your hands going from his chest to caress the hair at the back of his neck.

“Yes, right now. I’m bored, and I want you to entertain me. Please?”, your face hovered over his, the ends of your noises touching lightly.

“Well when you ask so nicely, how could I say no to you”, he gave you exactly what you wanted and kissed you. His hands were on your hips, bringing you towards his lap and wrapping your legs around his body.

With ease, he lifted you from the couch, smiling against your lips as you released a giggle. His fingers dug into the bottom of your thighs, walking towards your shared bedroom and plopping you onto the mattress. He couldn’t help himself as he stole more kisses from you, the growing stubble on his chin rubbing against your face. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, wanting to bring him closer to you if that were possible.

Pulling away from you, he grew more handsy, taking off your loungewear and keeping your underwear on while you removed his shirt in the process, his sweats hanging low on his hips. No matter how many times you got him like this, you never got tired of the view.

“You know, ever since I read that little column I did some shopping”, Leon said, moving away from you to dig through the closet for something. You sat up on your elbows, observing him walk back with a blindfold and a pair of fuzzy-lined handcuffs. Your eyebrows raised at him, not knowing what to expect but it certainly wasn’t this.

“Did you buy this stuff?”, you chuckled nervously, making Leon laugh with you.

“I mean yeah, I wanted to be prepared”, you almost snorted at the thought of your boyfriend being so attentive he did his own research to fulfill your experiences. If only you knew the lengths he went to type in BDSM toys on his phone when you weren’t paying attention.

“You’re such a dork”, you shook your head, bringing him back down to kiss him again in appreciation. “But it’s cute”

“I try to be. You still want to try this?”, he eyed your face carefully, making sure there weren’t any doubts in wanting to engage in your fantasy.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want to? This shouldn’t be just about me you know”

“Whatever gets you off gets me off, you know that. Now, enjoy my face one more time, you won’t be seeing it for a bit”

Leon brought the blindfold towards your eyes, tying it snugly behind your head as the soft material covered you, forcing you into a pit of darkness. It wasn’t uncomfortable, by any means, it was the complete opposite. The fact that you couldn’t see anything and had to rely on Leon’s voice was enough to make the hairs on your arms stand up.

“How’s that? Not uncomy or anything?”, you heard Leon speak, making you nod and release an airy exhale.

“Yeah, it’s good. I don’t see anything”

“Good. Arms up honey, I ain’t done yet”, that command sent a shiver down your spine, and you followed his directions instantly.

Laying down on the bed and lifting your arms above your head, you felt the bed shift as Leon got on his knees. The soft material of the lined handcuffs wrapped around your wrists, and you heard the soft click of them locking in place between the wooden bars of the headboard. They were tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to slip out of them, but comfortable so they didn’t leave marks on your skin.

Not that you would’ve minded that.

“How about now?”, your head moved towards the sound of Leon’s voice again, the added constraint of not being able to see or touch him made your heart rate spike.

“Still good, kinda sad I can’t touch or see you”, you pouted when you said that, getting another chuckle out of Leon. The sound alone warmed up your body, and your imagination began to run wild at what he had in store for you.

“I remember the magazine said they used toys, and I know you have a few. You still want me to use one on you?”, the prospect of Leon using whatever you had tucked away in your bedside drawer made your core ache.

“Yeah, you can use one”, your voice got the slightest bit more breathless, and you could swear you envisioned him smiling. 

“I won’t tell you which one I use, but I’ll leave it up to you to figure it out”

You heard shuffling towards your left and the sound of a drawer opening, blushing as Leon looked at your cluster of toys. He wasn’t an idiot, knowing full well you had to handle your own needs when he was gone for days to weeks at a time on missions or being held up in D.C. But seeing them all up close, some that he’s personally gotten for you, left him almost stunned at your ever-growing collection.

“Eennie…meenie…miny…moe”, Leon counted off, shaking your head in disbelief at how he still managed to find the time to be humorous. You felt the mattress dip again, signaling that he was back on the bed, at least that was how you imagined it anyway.

Rough fingertips skimmed over your bare thigh, followed by you taking a shaky breath at the touch. It wasn’t unexpected, but you felt your other senses going into overdrive with your loss of sight. Leon’s fingers moved from grazing your thigh, up your lower stomach and towards your chest. He skated across one of your nipples, making you gasp out and crave more with the slightest arch of your back.

“Somebody’s sensitive”

“Shut up and quit teasing”, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation at him, growing impatient at how he was toying with you.

“Feisty too. Do you really want to say that when you’re like this? You asked me to do this baby”, he was mocking you now, finding enjoyment in your predicament.

You didn’t have a second to complain more when Leon’s lips were on yours again, groaning in his mouth as he forced it open with his own. The tip of his tongue lined your bottom lip, and you happily opened up so he could slip it inside.

Your tongue caressed his, submitting to the attention while his hands went to squeeze at your breasts. He groped and kneaded, his thumb and pointer finger pinching your nipples and swallowing the moans you made. Drawing away from you, he watched how you chased his lips and your wrists yanked on the handcuffs in an attempt to reach out to him.

“You look so pretty like this, all tied up for me to play with”, your ears perked up at the way Leon’s voice dropped an octave, knowing that he was getting into it as much as you were.

His lips were on your neck, kissing wherever he could while he kept your hips pinned to the bed with one hand. You felt his stubble rubbing against you as he continued on his path, sucking at your collarbone and leaving faint marks for you to cover with concealer the next morning. Moving towards your left breast, he popped your neglected nipple in his mouth. You cursed loudly at the feel, pulling on the handcuffs again as you desired to run your fingers through his hair knowing you couldn’t.

Leon hummed against your skin, tongue lavishing the hardened nub and touching the other absentmindedly. His head moved to suck at the other nipple, giving it the same attention and mouthing at it loudly so you could hear his suckling. Giving you one harsh bite on your chest he blew on the wet skin, your thighs twitching as he did.

More wet kisses followed in between the valley of your breasts, down to your lower stomach, and over your navel. His mouth trailed over the waistband of your panties, dragging down one side of it until your bare hip was shown to him, nipping at the skin. You whimpered under him when he slipped the offending material down your legs and flung it to God knows where. Your legs parted for him instinctively, much to Leon’s enjoyment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want. Let me have my fun”, his lips ghosted your right thigh, starting from the inner crease of your hip and down to the side of your knee. He didn’t stop his kissing, shifting down to your ankle before going up on the other leg. Your breathing was labored by the time he reached your other hip, fingers curling around your thigh to spread you open for him.

You yelped when he placed a soft kiss on your clit, hips shooting towards his direction for more despite being pinned down. He hummed at your reaction, kissing around where you needed him most but never giving you more than what he decided was enough.

“Leon please…”, you pulled at the handcuffs again, the sound of metal rattled against the headboard you were bound to.

“My needy baby”, he huffed a breath, tilting his head to give your twitching nub a good suck. You threw your head back at the sensation, wishing he would give you more but he moved away before you were satisfied. Already growing frustrated with him, you lamented when you couldn’t feel his face against you anymore, your head dropping on the pillow and pondering what he would do next.

That was when you heard it, the soft buzzing that began to fill the walls of your bedroom. He had one of your toys in his hands and the mystery of not knowing which one added to the appeal of this entire dynamic.

“Open up your legs for me, I’ll make you feel good”, Leon’s promise filtered through your ears, and you followed through, bending your legs at the knee and spreading them more.

The first sensation of the vibrator against your clit made you jerk up, taking a second to let your body adjust to it. Your mind was trying to focus on which one of your toys Leon picked out, and from the way he pressed it more onto your body, it had to be the dual vibrator you liked to use the most for its two attachments. Smartass.

You pushed your hips out towards the toy, chasing the feeling as it filled your body with pleasure. Softly humming at the consistent pattern Leon chose, he let you grind towards him for more. Although you couldn’t see him, you knew he was watching you, taking in the way you shuddered when he angled the smaller tip just the way you liked.

“That feel good?”, you nodded, beginning to feel the vibrations take over your body slowly.

“Let me take it up a notch”

Your lower stomach did flips when Leon increased the intensity of the toy, your back curving off the bed with a cry. The sounds of the vibrator grew louder, paired with the lewd wetness that got worse as it started to seep out of you. Strong hands wrapped around your thigh again, keeping you spread open as you fought the urge to close them from the added onslaught on your body.

The prior teasing left you worked up the moment you hit the mattress, and you could feel your first orgasm bubbling in your gut. Leon saw it too, pressing the toy harder on your clit and moving it up and down against the wet skin, mimicking the way his tongue would stroke you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, your face turning in hopes of getting a kiss but he opted out to whisper in your ear instead.

“Come on baby, I know you’re close. Give it to me. Be a good girl and cum for me”

It was an easy request, the rubberband of tension snapping harshly as your first release washed over you. You moaned loudly, pulling against the handcuffs again and digging your nails into your palm. Leon praised you along the way, talking you through it to make up for your loss of sight. You half expected him to take the wand off your body and leave it at that, but he didn’t stop. Another pathetic whine slipped out of you, realizing he wasn’t going to give you a break and planned on pushing you to the limit.

“That’s one. You can give me another right?”, it was a question of reassurance, but you couldn’t tell him to stop even if you wanted to. 

The waves of pleasure lingered in your body and the vibrations continued, your breath hitching as you didn’t get a moment to breathe. Cumming more than once wasn’t new to your sex life, hell it became essential once you and Leon met and started messing around. But having no pause in what was being done to you was fairly new, and you started to think you bit off more than you could chew when asking for this.

But this was what you signed up for, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

“F-Fuck, yeah. Just please, please…”, you wantonly replied to him, giving him full control to do whatever he wanted, so long as it left you satisfied.

Leon flicked his wrist then, repositioning the other end of the vibrating toy against your entrance and nudging your outer lips. You clenched around nothing, yearning for the emptiness to be filled with something, anything you could get.

“Yeah, I know your pretty pussy wants to be filled up. I’ll give you what you need”, Leon’s voice grew husky, biting his lower lip and feeling his cock throb in his sweatpants.

He fulfilled his promise, slowly inserting the second bulbous silicone tip into your body. You tugged at the handcuffs harshly, a loud sob falling from your lips at how your drooling canal wrapped around the toy snugly. It was as if your entire body was vibrating now, not being able to escape the dual sensation of your clit and g-spot being stimulated at the same time. 

“That’s it sweetheart, that’s it”, Leon was enjoying this too much, maintaining the same level of intensity with the toy and starting to thrust it at an even tempo.

You felt hot to the touch, getting closer to elation with every electric beat that filled your limbs. Loud moaning was exchanged for choked breaths, your head lolling to one side of the pillow and trying to stay grounded. The familiar coil wrapped tighter around you, bucking your hips towards Leon’s hands as if it were instinct. You whimpered again, the rhythm of the toy’s pulsing getting stronger with a single press of a button.

“Shit, shit, L-Leon please…”, you started to get scared at the intensity of your second release, the speed of how it crept up on you taking you off guard. 

“I know baby, I know. Cum for me again, I know you can”, he encouraged you once more, upping the voltage on the toy to the max setting and watching hungrily at your squirming figure.

One more drive inside you was all it took for you to seize up, a noisy wail emitting from your throat as you came around the toy. Your climax was damn near violent, liquid fire filling your gut and spilling out underneath you. Your mind reached a state of nirvana you never touched before, ears ringing and an all-consuming shock rippling from your feet up to the top of your head. You were so out of it you couldn’t feel the way your fluids drenched the sheets below, instead leaving it to Leon to watch it all happen.

The only thing keeping you grounded to the mattress was a large hand on your hip, squeezing in an attempt to soothe your trembling thighs. You felt like you were floating, intense relief paired with a desperate need for more you couldn’t explain. On the next inhale, the toy was turned off and carefully pulled out of you, leaving your hole dripping and convulsing.

“I didn’t know you could do that”, you heard Leon say again, struggling to slow your heartbeat that pounded in your chest.

“What do you mean?”, you asked quizzically, your eyesight growing blurry when the blindfold was taken off your head. Your pupils focused on the blonde’s face, noticing how he looked at you in awe.

“You just squirted all over the bed”, you felt your cheeks turn red, embarrassed as you felt the way your entire lower half went numb, the ghost of the vibrations still running over you. He didn’t give you the chance to wallow in your shame, his voice running through the reeling mess of your mind.

“Want to watch you do it again”, he purred at you with a grin, moving down your body and lifting your legs onto his shoulders. 

Leon’s head was in between your legs, lapping away at your folds and groaning at the sweetness of you filling his tongue. He was messy with it, audibly sucking everything you had to give and all you could do was take it. His warm tongue flicked at your oversensitive clit, having to dig your face into your forearm to stop yourself from shouting. The handcuffs clinked above you from where you were stuck to the headboard, your nails leaving indents in your skin.

“Leon I c-can’t. It’s too much”, you mewled when Leon gave you a harsher suck, his fingers teasing your pussy, still hot and wanting more despite your words.

“You can give me another one, don’t play with me”, he growled at you, slipping two thick fingers inside you and curling against that spot tucked at the roof of your body.

“Your needy cunt isn’t telling me no, and I’m not stopping until you squirt for me again. I know you can”, he marveled at the lack of resistance as he burrowed his fingers deep inside you, going back to lick at your clit.

He was greedy in the way he feasted on you, licking at you in precise circles as the tips of his fingers jabbed at your g-spot consistently. Every sound that came out of your mouth was broken, whining every time he drew his digits out just to push back into you. Slyly, he switched techniques, curling his fingers against the textured spot inside you and sucking at your clit in pulses, pressing a hand against your lower stomach.

The pit of flames was lit again, static filling your body and your sight becoming bleary with tears. You couldn’t stop the internal carnal heat from growing, the same sharp feeling from your last release being renewed with every pump of Leon’s fingers. It was too much too quickly, your face growing flushed and losing sense of reality the closer you got to the edge.

“Please, Leon I-”, you didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore, needing both more and less at the same time and not knowing which one you preferred.

“Soak my fucking face baby. Do it so I can fuck you. C’mon, give it to me, I need it”

His words were the last nails in the coffin, your face twisting in a silent scream of pure bliss. You felt like you were being engulfed in flames as your third release in 15 minutes swallowed you whole, an out-of-body experience that didn’t seem to stop. It was as if you were tumbling over a high that never crashed, not knowing where the first climax ended or the next one began. All the energy you had left was sucked completely out of you quite literally, your eardrums rang and your legs wouldn’t stop quivering against the bed. 

Leon’s head appeared from between your legs with the widest grin you had ever seen on him. His lips were plump, and the stubble that adorned his jaw was covered in your wetness. You were too dazed to pay close attention to the way he licked at his lips, chasing the remaining flavor of you.

“You want a taste too?”, he said, grabbing your jaw and kissing you sloppily. He made sure to let your mouth fill with the tanginess that he familiarly recognized as your essence, the both of you panting as your tongues meshed together.

“Let me fuck you, please”, Leon almost begged for it, sweats halfway down his thighs and his cock already positioned against you. Weakly, you nodded, not even bothering to lift your head when he slid deep inside you so smoothly.

“Fuuckkk, you’re soaked, so goddamn warm”, he was mumbling under his breath, chasing his own pleasure and using your body for it. You were more than willing, not being able to do much of anything but just take it.

Leon didn’t hold back in the slightest, pounding into your body while your hands remained above your head. His hands held on to your thighs, hips smacking into yours harshly with every shove of his dick inside you. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, body growing limp, and the pleasure evolved as you tipped between the edge of overstimulation and pain. You desperately wanted to touch him, to feel him pressed against you, but you could only take what was given to you.

Lightbulbs went off in Leon’s head, grabbing the tossed toy from the side of the bed and turning it back on. He pressed it against your clit once more, a rough grumble coming from deep within his chest as he felt the vibrations filling his body. You cried out, the handcuffs rattling above your head as your body felt like it was being pushed beyond what you thought was possible. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks, Leon not giving you a moment to adjust and losing himself in his insurgency to feel you cum around him.

“I can’t, I c-can’t”, you were begging for mercy, knowing full well Leon wouldn’t give it to you until you fell over the edge one more time.

“One more. Give me one more sweetheart, and I’ll stop. Need to feel you cum for me one more time, I got you baby, I got you”, he was like a man possessed, fucking you in a reckless frenzy as you tightened around him.

You didn’t know if you had it in you to cum again, but Leon was persistent as always. He upped the speed on the vibrator, pressing it harder against your oversensitive nub up and down like he did before. It was too extreme, making you choke on air and your throat grow raw from the sounds that will end up giving you a noise complaint. 

The next moment your nerves short-circuited and your mind went blank, your fourth climax pummeling through you so aggressively you couldn’t contain the scream that came out of you. It was the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, reaching the point of pain from the oversensitivity, and your lower stomach cramped from the force of it. You didn’t hear Leon when he praised you again, his voice sounding distant and far away as black spots filled your vision.

He filled your cunt with his hot seed right after, bottoming inside you until he couldn’t get any deeper. Turning the toy off completely and reaching up to undo the handcuffs, he was gentle in touching you again. A part of him was ready to beg for forgiveness, for pushing you too hard and getting carried away. But those thoughts dispelled from his mind when your arms weakly wrapped around his shoulders, silently relieved you didn’t black out on him.

“I don’t think I can move”, your voice cracked when you talked, stray tears lining your eyes and he wiped at your cheeks. You were trembling underneath him, your legs quaked despite not being able to move them. Your body felt heavy, like it was sinking into the mattress, but you’ve never experienced such profound pleasure it left you immobilized.

“Sorry about that. You did so good for me, so damn good. Did you like that?”, he whispered into your neck, kissing your skin as you nodded, both starting to come down from your respective highs.

He hadn’t slipped out yet, just letting the both of you bask in the afterglow of this new experience. Had he known he could make you feel this good, he would’ve tried this a long time ago.

“We should do this again”

“Oh we are. I gotta break my record of making you cum four times”, you hit him on the shoulder again, aware that his words were half serious. Meanwhile, he was already plotting in his head how he could make you reach numbers five and six.

“So does this mean you’re going to keep doing your research on my sex stories?”, he lifted his head to look at you, a smirk already on his face.

“That depends. Which ones do you want to try next?”

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

taglist: @roseglazedlens @kennedyswhore @httpsvix @daydreamrot @dmitriene @scar-crossedlvrs @valsthea

[darlingdreadwrites]

cam

pairing: Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

summary: Edward finds your hacked webcam feed and can’t help but watch you.

contains: edward being a little creep, webcams, edward finding you absolutely fascinating, voyeurism

warnings: again eddie being a creep, stalking, getting watched through camera without consent, dub-con I think (if you think even an insinuation is too much, don't read it. ily), slight nsfw at the end but it doesn’t go beyond his hand on his lap, poorly written work-arounds to explain hacking into said camera

word count: 544

masterlist

a.n: i wrote this months ago and reworked on it. i wanted to make it a series but idk.

Edward had a habit of watching people through their cameras when he felt stressed. And, fuck, was he stressed today. He liked to watch others go through their day—oblivious to the vigilante who watched them. He typed out the familiar website and scrolled through the channels of unsuspecting people. Hacked front door cameras, baby cams, security cameras, and, of course, webcams.

His eyes found interest in someone whose face was rather close to their screen. Your hair splaying in different directions, your brows twitched as they furrowed, and your nose scrunching in concentration. Oh, weren’t you cute?

For some reason, you had piqued Edward's interest. You seemed like you were typing away on your keyboard with a flurry, the only sources of light being a small lamp in the corner of the room and your bright screen. Every other detail in your room was hidden in harsh shadows.

He clicked on the channel almost immediately. Nobody else was in here, he noted as he saw the little person icon go from zero to one. He tilted his head and leaned back slightly and waited for the audio to load in. He jumped as your music blared through his speakers. He scrambled to mute the channel, regulating his breathing when he did.

With a deep inhalation, he cautiously raised the volume to one that wouldn't cause his ears to bleed. He listened closely to the lyrics and melody to find some familiarity. He couldn't recognize the jumpy, dark tune, but he noted how danceable it seemed to be for you. You seemed to sway deliciously to it as you wrote. Sometimes stopping to dance in your chair and mouth along to the words, just to go back to writing furiously.

His eyes were trained on your concentrated ones. It was as if he thought looking hard enough would allow him to see what you were writing. He huffed through his nostrils when he found his attempt was unsuccessful. Yet, he was too intrigued to let this go. Just as he was going to open up the proper tools to get to the screen your attention was on, he paused.

You had stopped writing and reached for something not in the camera's view. Your pretty little hand was holding the neck of a wine bottle. Throwing your head back as you took quick gulps. You put the bottle down and gasped for air, wiping your mouth with the palm of your hand. You smiled, the swaying of your shoulders becoming more expressive.

Edward watched on, perplexed, as you stood from your swivel chair and began to sway and mouth the words, wine bottle still in hand. Your hands raised upwards, only one of them stopping midway to press the bottle to your lips. Something about this made his lips twitch into a crooked smile. And itchy. Very itchy. Had he always been sweating?

He blinked rapidly and grunted, pressing down the commands on his keyboard to open the program that would allow access to your computer. He continued to type as more windows kept popping up, momentarily glancing up to watch you dance. The palm of his right hand pressing into the crotch area of his jeans had simply found itself there on its own.

[specialagentlokitty]

9th doctor x reader - made for each other

Hello! So, I saw that you wanted requests for the 9th doctor and thought I would jump in cause there are not enough fics for 9. I was thinking something where companion reader is injured and 9 nurses her back to health and during that time they admit their feelings for each other. If that's something you would be interested in. - @padawancat97 💜

You couldn’t really remember what had happened, or how you had ended up so badly injured, but you did remember the sounds of the doctor above you, saying you’ll be alright.

You were crying, hand clutching tightly at your side, breathing heavily as you rested your head on the wall behind you.

The doctor was knelt in front of you, one hand pressed over yours on your side, his other on the side of your face.

“I know… I know sweetheart.. I know…” he whispered.

The doctor took his screwdriver out, scanning your side, and he did something that made you scream in pure agony.

“I’m sorry! It’ll help!”

“Make it stop…” you begged weakly.

The doctor looked at you, and he wiped some of your tears away with his hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I will, I promise I’ll make it all go away…”

The doctor looked behind him, then he turned back to you, running his knuckles along the skin of your cheek, offering you a gentle smile.

“You’re going to be good as new, I promise…”

He looked behind him again, down the hallway to where his TARDIS was, and he looked back you.

“Are you ready for one last run?” He asked softly.

You nervously nodded your head, and he gave you a little grin.

“Of course you are… you always are…”

The doctor placed your arm over his shoulder, his hand pressing tightly on your side.

“Ready…”

He gave a small countdown, and hauled you up which made you cry out in pain and he immediately began to apologise to you.

You both made your way to the TARDIS as fast as you possibly could, the doctor could feel your blood running through his fingers.

He threw the door open, helping you inside and slowly sat you down against the other door.

“I need you to stay awake, okay? Stay awake, keeping looking at me.”

You nodded your head a little bit.

“Good, okay, okay I’ll be right back okay?”

You nodded against.

The doctor ran to the console, his eyes flicking to you, making sure that you were still watching him like he told you to.

He saw your head falling just a little bit.

“(Y/N)?”

The doctor glanced over.

“(Y/N)?!”

He slammed his hand into a button to send the TARDIS into flight and ran back over, taking your face between his hands.

“No, no, no, no, (Y/N)?! Hey! Hey look at me!”

He picked you up, running you through the hallways, finding any suitable room he could set you down in and he came across his room first.

He quickly and carefully laid you down on the bed, throwing things out of his wardrobe until he found whatever he could to help you.

Covering your chest with his quilt he tore you shirt, so he could get better access to your side.

The wound wasn’t deep, but it was big, and still bleeding.

The had the TARDIS scan your heartbeat and use the audio system to let him listen to it, making sure that it sounded normal.

Placing a bandage on your side, the doctor was carefully when it came to covering you back up, and he grabbed a bowl and a cloth, cleaning the blood he had gotten on your face and the blood on your hands.

He didn’t even notice the blood on his hands, or on the floor, he was so focused on you.

Making sure to get every speck of blood from your skin.

The he just laid in the bed next to you, head on his arm, gaze solely fixated on you, running his thumb along your cheek, listening to the sound of your heartbeat throughout the room.

After a few hours of laying there he finally got up to clear the blood from everywhere else, shower, and change his clothes.

He ket the TARDIS in flight, that way nothing was able to get to you, and wherever he went in the TARDIS your heartbeat followed him.

It was almost soothing, hearing your heartbeat wherever he went, but he spent most of his time just laid next to you, watching you.

He kept a close log of everything, the healing rate of your wound, your heart rate every few hours, your temperature, whatever he deemed as important.

He eventually brought the TARDIS to a land a few days later, a quiet planet, away from everything and everyone where he could focus on you.

Finally you woke up while he was at the console, the TARDIS let him know that you were awake and he ran straight to the room.

He came to a near crashing halt in front of the door, stumbling through it as he looked at you.

“(Y/N)!”

He rushed over, scanning you with his screwdriver, looking at the results, then back to you.

“Are you okay? Are you in any pain? Do you need anything?”

He kept rambling questions to you, and you reached up, placing your hand on his arm, getting his attention and he quickly stopped.

“I… water…”

“That I can do!” He grinned.

He ran out of the room again, coming back a few minutes later with a bottle of water.

The doctor set it on the floor, and he opened it, then placed his hand on the back of your head to lift it up, helping you take a drink.

He set your head back down, putting the lid back on the bottle before turning to you, kneeling next to the bed and resting his arms on it.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked gently.

“I’m okay…”

He nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry I.. I never thought… I didn’t…”

You smiled, reaching your hand out you placed it on his head, running your fingers down to the side of his face.

“It’s okay… it’s not your fault…”

“I should have never taken you there (Y/N), never. You got hurt because of me.”

You moved your hand, lightly flicking his forehead which made him frown, rubbing the sore spot.

“I got hurt because I touched something I shouldn’t have… that’s not your fault doctor…”

He sighed a little bit, resting his chin on his arms.

“I’ll take you back home when you’re better.”

“You better not or I’ll kick your ass.”

He laughed a little bit, smiling softly up at you, and you placed your hand on the side of his face, running your thumb along his cheek.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You thought for a moment.

“Not yet, I’m kind of tired, but then can we have chips?”

“We can have whatever you want.”

The doctor would bring you food and drinks to your bed, he refused to let you get up for the first few days, he changed your bandage regularly and helped you up if you absolutely needed to get up.

After the first few days you could sit up, you couldn’t walk far on your own, and you couldn’t stretch because you’d pull at your wound.

You were sleeping with your head on his chest, he was running a hand up and down your arm.

“I’m hungry…”

“You’re always hungry. What do you want?”

You turned your head to look up at him.

“Can we get burgers?”

“We sure can.”

He kissed your forehead and gently moved you aside so he could head to the console, and you yawned.

Getting up you grabbed a discarded jumper of his, pulling it over your head, slowly walking over to console.

You took the steps one at a time, hand on your side as if that was going to help the pressure.

“Hey, hey you shouldn’t be walking when the TARDIS is moving.”

He walked over, holding his hands out to you, and you took them, letting him help you down the rest of the steps, and he sat you down.

“It’s dangerous and you could get hurt.”

“Everything is dangerous.”

“I know, but you’re already hurt, I don’t want to make it worse.”

The doctor waited until the TARDIS had fully stopped, then he walked over to you, holding out his hand with a bright smile.

You smiled back softly at him.

“Now, let’s go get you a burger.”

You placed your hand in his, letting him lace his fingers with yours as you guys left the TARDIS.

He gestured to the whole area around you both.

“Pick wherever you’d like.”

The doctor kept a watchful eye on you as you looked around, slowly wondering around, looking for somewhere to eat.

You finally found a McDonald’s and you decided to go there, so the doctor sat you down at a table, and he listened as you told him exactly what you wanted.

You were softly kicking your feet back and forth, head resting on your arms as you waited for him to come back.

You were watching him stand in line, and when he glanced over at you you smiled at him which resulted in him smiling back at you.

He brought the food over, you ate, and decided you wanted to go for a walk, which the doctor agreed to under the strict condition that you two didn’t go to far from the TARDIS.

You happily agreed to this, just content with your hand in his, slowly walking around just taking to him about everything.

Eventually the pain in your side came back, and you stopped walking, placing your hand on his chest to stop him.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He whispered.

“It’s my side…”

He nodded his head, and crouched down in front of you, letting you climb onto his back and he stood up again.

“So what should we do? Carry on? Or go back?”

“We should go back, you can’t carry me all night. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“Oi! Who says I can’t and don’t want to?” He huffed.

You laughed softly, resting your chin on his shoulder.

The doctor tilted his head to the side, resting it on yours.

“You can’t seriously carry me all night.”

“Is that a challenge? I’ll do it, I’ll never let your feet touch the ground again.”

You laughed, and he grinned a little bit.

“Come on, where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care, as long as you’re here it’s alright by me.” You said softly.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

You hummed a little and shrugged.

“Because I like you.”

“Course you do! What’s not to like?” He grinned.

You smiled at him, turning your head so you could kiss his cheek and you went back to whatever where ever he was going.

“Thanks for taking care of me…”

“I’ll always take care of you sweetheart, always, above all else you are my first priority.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I’d be pretty lost without you (Y/N).”

You laughed a little bit, wiggling slightly to let him know that you wanted to be put down, so he carefully set you down.

You walked around him, taking his hands in yours.

“My beautiful, amazing, (Y/N)…” he whispered.

He freed one of his hands, placing it on the side of your face, and you leant into his touch.

“I will always be there to save you… no matter where we are… I’ll always come and find you…”

You smiled.

“I know you will…”

The doctor studied you for a moment, the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the way your hand fit in his so perfectly.

He remembered everything else as well, the fact you always hugged him, you always kissed his cheek if you were going away somewhere without him.

You looked at him and you just admired him, you looked at him for who he was, you knew him.

“I love you.” He whispered.

You stared at him in shock.

“What?”

A grin slowly spread across his face.

“I love you. I love you!”

You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and he held you gently.

“I love you too…”

The doctor twirled you both around, then he set you back on the ground, quickly leaning down so he could capture you in a kiss.

A kiss that neither of you would admit that you had both been thinking about for a long, long time

[howlsofbloodhounds]

"dead dove with color and killer"

killer's happy ending... derailed? 🥺😢😭

[cw: mention of abuse, abuse apologia]

honestly that feels plausible. killer's perception of what a functional friendship must be so messed up from his experience with chara and nightmare. he thinks a relationship is between a controller and a controlled. i imagine killer imagines his relationship with color as the first time he willingly submits to the role of being controlled. because he trusts color to handle him with care, to have his best interests at heart, to reform him into a good person.

but sometimes, there's this insidious little urge in killer to usurp color, just like he has with chara and nightmare before. but no, it's not for bad reasons this time - this time, it's for the other person's wellbeing. he has good intentions. he needs - he wants - to protect color from all the bad things that color finds himself in. what good is being someone's tool if your owner can't use you properly?

Cw: abuse, dead dove do not eat, and also yandere type of shit and blood and violence in the edit/audio

Just in time for me to have came across this audio and edit lmao.

But yeah you get it!! This fucker lives and breathes in his trauma that totally isnt trauma if you asked him.

and like. i can picture him trying to teach color how he feels is the proper way to use him. provoking color is snapping and yelling at him, praising him and thanking him whenever color does something to punish him for “acting out” and “disobeying.”

its like a reverse of color reforming killer. where killer is trying to teach and reform color into being someone he’s not because he thinks itll keep color safe. come on, say something harsh and demeaning. break my arm, shove me into the walls, show me my place.

and like..he gets unbelievably confused and irritated when color doesn’t or attempts to be kind to him. he hasnt does anything to earn that, unless it is part of colors game. (In which case he’d kiss colors feet cause yes he’s learning!)

and like whenever killer lashes out or hurts color he always does it from what he believes is a place of devotion and care. color wont take the rest, he keeps trying to help people who use him, he keeps being hurt by the world because he doesnt understand how it works. its ok, killer will teach him. he will break colors legs if that means the man will finally allow himself to rest, and he cant go out where someone can once again try to hurt him.

and he’s never “needlessly”—in his definition—cruel. he always apologizes so sincerely for causing color any pain and always does his best to take care of him and never ever ever denies color what he needs or whatever he wants (except if that’s to leave killer, or to help fools who are using him damnit.) he never plays any games with colors food and drink and baths and clothes and bed.

and it only lets up when color is forced to adapt. stop trying to give killer any say over anything or control, command him to do what you want. make him do what you want. if you want to give him kindness and he attempts to argue back, sharply remind him that you make the rules here, not him.

and like..killer is sickeningly pleased when color adapts. proud of color even.

and color..he feels sick. color cant help but wonder if he should’ve helped killer at all. or if this is the only way he can help him; by making “proper” use of him, even if color must use his authority to..adjust the rules a bit.

and like..imagine after color is forced to punish killer..he like. breaks down. starts sobbing and crying and shaking and like killer, bloody broken mangled killer, is smiling and crawls in his lap and hugs him. wipes away all his tears and heaps endless praise on him.

..aw man this timeline makes me unbelievably sad.

[laniissocool]

starboy

pairing(s): jack champion x actress!fem!reader

warnings: none really ? she/her pronouns, fem reader, cursing, mentions of stabbing and scream VI spoilers i think ? also not proof-read and lowercase intended !

a/n: hi everyone !! so this is my first fic and i do plan on doing a second part. i really am more of a reader than i am a writer so please leave criticism in the replies !! also instead of y/n or reader i use just a blank (___) so let me know if i should change that and i dont know whether this is fluff or angst or like in the middle ? i’d say its a normal story but wtvr !! hope you enjoy !

you made your way onto set. you walked with your tote bag thrown over your shoulder, phone in hand as you walked pretty fast without looking up. knowing how clumsy you were, you were surprised you hadn’t bumped into anything yet. or maybe anyone. you got a text and opened as fast as someone could blink as soon as you saw the name. 

jackkk💫:

R U Coming to set yet?🎥

you:

omw !! ready 4 me 2 stab u ?🔪🔪🩸

jackkk💫:

As ready as I’ll ever be😵‍💫

you asked jack if he wanted you to show him how to turn on all lowercase, but he refused. he said typing like someone’s dad is cool.

you caught yourself smiling at your phone before turning it off and looking around as you walked. 

a few minutes later you made it to your trailer. you walked in and turned on the light, cracking your knuckles then tossing your bag on the small couch you had. you took your phone back out and texted jack.

you:

i’m here in my trailer, come get me ghostface👻👻

seen at 1:14

you thought it was sweet that there was a mutual thing between you and jack where it was completely needed and necessary to end all texts with an emoji, if either of you couldn’t find one you’d have to call or send an audio message.

about an hour later, everyone got their costumes on and ready to film. you were so thankful that the character you played, Elena, gave off the same vibes as you, so, you could dress her yourself. sometimes even with your own clothing. maybe it was your face ? you were very pretty, after all. a kind of rarer pretty, like a magical pretty ? but it definitely was not just your conventional attractive pretty. everyone got on set and you saw jack for the first time that day. you ran up to him and hugged him, your arms wrapped around his waist, in a friendly way. he hugged you back and you pulled away after a few seconds. 

“ y’know, i think you’re a pretty good-looking killer “ you said to him with a soft smirk. 

you guys always flirted with eachother, not even realizing. 

“ why thank you “ he said in a weird accent. 

before you started filming the prop guys had to fix some stuff so you guys got a quick break. you walked over to jack’s trailer, which he wasn’t in and sat down eating some gummies you found in your bag. after a few minutes jack comes inside without making noise since the door was cracked open already. he closes the door behind him silently and sits right next to you. he peeked over onto your phone as you played your favorite game. even though it wasn’t really fun to watch, he was insantly interested in anything you were. you didn’t even realize he was there because of how into it you were, besides, he didnt make a sound.  you noticed when he reached over to your bag of Haribos to get one. you jumped and almost dropped your phone.

“ shit, jack ! fuck ! you scared the life out of me “ you said with your hand that held your phone up to your heart. 

he burst out into a fit of laughter.

“ your- “ he couldn’t even speak without laughing. after about a minute or two of him laughing wiping his tears and you staring at him like he’s insane he finally says something. 

“ your face, ____ your face ! you looked at me like i’d just stabbed you ! “ he said, still with a smile from ear to ear on his face.

you looked at him with an unimpressed look on your face, scoffing at him as you bit back a smile. 

“ it wasn’t even that funny, idiot “ you said as you ran your tongue across your teeth trying not to smile. he saw right through you.

“ you wanna laugh so badly, don’t you ? ” he said as he looked down at you. you looked up at him, with a soft smile on your face. you laughed a little too as you had to give in. the room went silent and awkward as you’d looked at each others faces for a few seconds. unconciously, you both leaned in. you looked at his lips and your full lips parted a bit. your heart was pounding but you didn’t know that his was too. your lips touched and your hand travels up his chest to the back of his neck, sliding up to grab a handful of his curly hair. you pulled him closer and before you knew it you were turning your head into the kiss. both hands around his neck now as you tugged lightly on his brown locks. then you realized. you really realized. you were close to, but not quite making out with jack champion. he was your starboy. you’d never believed it, even if you told yourself from this morning that you kissed jack champion for a good, 30 seconds, you wouldn’t believe it.

you opened your eyes and they widened, looking back at him. his cheeks a flushed, rosy color. as were yours. you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

you got up and he did as well after you, towering over you. he looked at you with eyes that were saying that he wanted you to say something. anything. you couldn’t. physically, nothing could come out. you had no idea what was going on, you never thought of jack in that way. or, well, in the way that you would kiss him for almost a minute straight kind of way. you walked out practically running to your trailer. 

all jack could do was watch, he was frozen and just as, if not even more shocked than you were. as you walked you remembered all the times you were around him. you’d get butterflies. he could be in the same room as you and you’d get butterflies but you’d labeled it as ‘nervousness’ for ‘no reason’. but it’d only ever happen around him. him. then you realized, the non-purpose flirting, the butterflies, the need to be around him. you were inlove with him ! god, how didn’t you notice before. that’s why everyone would look at you too with funny eyes whenever you’d flirt without knowing, thinking it was a friendship thing that only you two did around each other.

everyone probably definitely knew. they knew how you felt before you did. you opened the door to your trailer and locked it. you sat down as thoughts raced through your mind. how would you tell him ? how would you tell jenna and devyn and liana ? did he like it ? did he mean it how you meant it ? was it just a kiss for him ? .. is jack inlove with you too ?

[ca-suffit]

I have a kind of dumb disorganized question. Do you think we’ll revisit the reasoning for the San Francisco memory alteration in season 3? I might be just missing something but I don’t think there’s actually an established reason for Armand altering Louis memory? I tend to think we’re all in alignment that Armand made the edit for both Louis and Daniel, (again showcasing how the power dynamics in Loumand are kind of deceptive - Armand is just much more powerful than Louis both socially in the world and as a vampire) but I’m just not sure what the reasoning is?

I saw a kind of interesting post out in the wild proposing that Louis actually did ask Armand to alter that memory and while I think that’s interesting in the abstract, I can’t divorce the race/power dynamics angles that would call into question (delegitimizating what Louis has been through). Which brings me back to, for a number of reasons I do think the intended read is Armand erased the memory from Louis’ mind without his knowledge. But I’m back to the question of why? It kind of seems like Loumand is in the same spot before and after the mind wipe to me, is there another layer here I missed?

I think we'll learn more about it somewhere in the show as it progresses, yes, cuz it's too big of a mystery to leave unanswered.

this is sort of an aside before I get into it, but I keep thinking of the extent of these powers. we don't know a lot about it still. armand seems aware that recollection is possible, bcuz he's not ttly surprised when he sees that daniel and louis have remembered stuff. so I think it's interesting why he chose that moment and not others and I'm still piecing together thoughts about it as a whole.

anyway tho. this is potentially a headcanon as my answer, so remember that bcuz I'm def not trying to say this is "the" answer. I have no idea fr.

armand's "explanation" in 2x6 could be a whole post itself but that's sort of ot so I'm just going with what the "truth" was otherwise for so long. let's look at the phrasing of it.

armand doesn't forget that louis thought daniel was "fascinating." he also didn't forget what louis said it meant for their relationship that he stay alive. if we consider that armand has awareness that memories might partially or fully return, placing himself as responsible for seeing the "fascinating" qualities in daniel first and "saving" him from louis makes him look better than what rly happened. without the actual audio from that time period, neither of them prbly would have remembered the rly "bad" parts. I'm gonna guess armand knows this too as he's shown unwinding tapes (I know they're not *the* tapes but still, the visual is there for a reason....alongside editing claudia's diaries too) and obviously this part of the interview was *not* kept to the og version anyone had access to that he was aware of.

assad said in an interview (sry I forget which one rn) that armand is thrown off when he speaks to louis about turning madeleine. when louis kisses him and then walks away, like he could walk away at any moment from the whole relationship and be fine without it. armand in the show says he'd be "nothing" without louis. I'm not sure when it starts exactly but there is a point where armand puts himself in the position of always knowing what's "best" for louis. it's a subtle manipulation and not what louis was used to from lestat. it gives the illusion of being cared for by someone who loves u instead of being controlled. armand knows that louis thinks he's boring so he has to do something to create a world where he isn't....or at least where louis thinks highly of him for *something.*

I always saw a lot of daniel paralleling jonah in this. both of them live to old age even tho their existence is painful to some of the most powerful vampires who could have killed them in a second. killing either of them would drive the wedge between them (lestat and armand) and louis even further tho, and they both know that. it also won't fix the issue. ya ok so jonah *did* have more of a history with louis before that moment than daniel did but it's still the same thing of "why do u feel this for someone else and not me? what is wrong with *me* that we don't have this?" especially cuz both points of interest are humans compared to vampire partners. lestat prbly kept tabs on jonah his whole life too.

so that's as much as I've had thoughts on this anyway. idk if it helps.

oh also ia and I don't think louis would ask to erase anything either. this is a man who keeps pebbles in his ankles to remember claudia's death. louis is so full of catholic guilt that there's no way that man would ask to forget *anything* that hurts him.

[jeffstormer]

Party of One "Sequel Episodes"

Talking more about the "why" behind this, because it's on my mind.

Something I started to develop last year, before [redacted] wiped any capacity and energy I had, was to start to think about sequel episodes for Patreon, and what, ultimately, a "sequel episode" might represent for Party of One in general.

The tl;dr: If Party of One is interview-by-AP, then sequel episodes present the possibility for "leaving the mics on" conversations, in the vein of interview shows offering extended deep dive episodes on Patreon. I think we can use them in that way really effectively.

Part of this is realizing Party of One is not a "narrative-driven" AP like most shows. In talking with guests, with listeners, the heart of Po1 as a show is not the same as, say, a Crit Role or an Encounter Party or a Dimension 20, where you see performers embody characters and play roles and you're engrossed by the world. It's really more in the heart of the conversation. We're functionally never "off-screen;" even when we're playing characters, you're never listening to Xagnar the Elf and Bertram the Dwarf, you're listening to Jeff and Guest talk about Xagnar and Bertram.

To put it another way, if most modern AP is "audio drama by way of TTRPGs," Party of One is "interview show by way of APs."

The role of a game on Party of One is to facilitate an interesting, intimate conversation that gets the guest to lower their guard and show a side of themselves you don't always see.

Party of One is Hot Ones, and the games are chicken wings.

Which means we should be considering how to build content that deepens one's appreciation for an interview show.

Thus, the proverbial "leaving the mics on for an extra half hour." Now, we could do something akin to a D20-style talkback to capture this vibe, but honestly, part of what makes Po1 this type of show is that a lot of the material that WOULD go in a talkback goes into the episode itself. A lot of "talkback" material is cut out of the core of APs to keep a tight narrative flow. We're offering something different.

Which brings us to the idea of a sequel episode. Carrying forth a story, either literally or metaphorically, through a 2nd episode, a chapter two, a riff on the same theme. Less so for the audience to say "oh hell yeah more of Xagnar and Bertram," but more for the audience to say "Jeff and Guest really bonded on the ways friendship gets defined in combat. I'm excited to hear more of how they flesh that out."

Just something I am thinking about as we plan the future of the show.

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr Day Two: Kneeling

It's been a WHILE since I sat down to watch a Fifth Doctor episode, but i HAVE been listening to some audio dramas so he came pretty easily. and fun. The plot makes absolutely no sense but it's 10pm and i've been out all day so. deal :D

Fandom: Doctor who (Fifth Doctor Era)

Word count: 1,271

__

It was surprisingly easy to tune out the droning monologue of the big bad leader in front of him. The Doctor stared at the smooth stone under his knees, noting with interest the grain of the tile. It wasn’t a material he recognised immediately, and the pattern of it was enough to draw his attention. 

Certainly a lot more than whatever that guy was talking out. Something about world domination and blowing everything up. The Doctor didn’t really think it was important, considering the task he had set Nyssa and Adric off to do. 

Hopefully they would be on time. It was getting rather uncomfortable kneeling on this cold, stone floor. And the blood on his head was starting to itch. 

He shifted, adjusting his weight on his legs and bracing himself with his hands on his knees. The monologue stopped momentarily. 

“Did I say you could move?” the man demanded, glaring down at the Doctor. Though man was being generous--really, he was an artificial echo. Fascinating technology on this planet; instead of simply mourning their old leaders, they would create artificial copies of them, so their wisdom and experience could be passed on. 

It was an interesting idea, and at first seemingly good. But sometimes those artificial echos got a little too big for their boots, and ended up forcing strangers just trying to be helpful onto their knees in front of them. 

There was also probably some ethical things to explore in there, but the Doctor figured it was better to save those when he wasn’t forced to his knees in front of whatever this program was. 

“Oh, I am sorry,” he said, bowing his head again. The ego on this program was impressive. Or was that just part of the initial personality? Knowing the dictatorial leader types he’d run into, it could easily be that one. “It’s just incredibly uncomfortable here, you know.” 

The creature in front of him apparently didn’t know. It launched right back into its monologue, and the Doctor found himself wishing he’d given Adric a shorter time frame. 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay upright, a fact that he was valiantly attempting to ignore. Head wounds could be tricky, and he was acutely aware he was sporting one currently. Not to mention the fatigue he was starting to experience. He’d been kneeling here for almost an hour. 

Something flickered in front of him, a faint blue light and he hid a grin. Finally. Thankfully they had remembered to activate the shield, he’d been a little worried about that. But he should know by now he could trust his younger friends. 

Not long now. He shut his eyes and counted, counting down from ten. 

At zero the world exploded exactly on time. 

The flickering blue shield in front of him kept the worst of the explosions away from the Doctor, but he still felt the wind whipping around him. Rubble and stone and bits of machinery shattered, the world exploring in sound and light. 

He squeezed his eyes, turning his head away from the center of the explosion--directly under the control panel of that strange, long dead artificial king. 

And then the world was silent. The shield dropped and he let out a long breath, collapsing forward and catching himself on his hands. For a moment, he just crouched there, finding it unreasonably difficult to breathe for a moment. 

The rubble was still settling, and he heard the world shift and crunch around him. If all had gone according to plan, the others would be waiting for him at the TARDIS. 

He blinked his eyes open, raising a hand to wipe blood and dust off his forehead. Suddenly, he felt like standing was beyond him--now he wasn’t in danger of being murdered for moving, he couldn't seem to find it in him to move. 

He felt strangely dizzy and for a moment he wondered if any of the stray bits of rubble had hit him. But the shield had done its job well--probably just exhaustion and bloodloss. Nothing a few hours in the TARDIS’ med bay wouldn’t fix. 

He just…needed to get there. 

“Come on, Doctor,” he muttered to himself. He still couldn’t quite convince himself to move. So he dropped fully to the ground instead, feeling his cheek press against the cold stone floor. 

The pattern hadn’t been damaged--it had been protected by the same shield that had protected him. There was something undeniably satisfying about that, though it was very difficult to properly analyse the pattern when his face was pressed up against it. 

“Doctor!” 

Someone was calling his name. He tried to push himself up again, and managed it partially. Now he was back to kneeling, legs protesting loudly. He muttered at them to stop that. “Doctor!” 

It was Tegan, he realised. A moment latter, she appeared, scrambling over the rubble. He’d always been rather impressed at how much she got done in those heels. 

“There you are!” She half slid down the rubble that used to be the wall. Behind her, the Doctor noticed for the first time the landscape outside, rolling fields and a river making its way through. 

“Doctor? You alright?” Tegan was standing in front of him now, and the Doctor blinked up at her, still on his knees. Standing up seemed a bit beyond him right now. Give him a few minutes. 

“Hello, Tegan,” he muttered. “They timed it perfectly.” 

“Yeah, seems like they got it all sorted,” Tegan said. She frowned down at him. “They’re waiting back at the TARDIS.” 

“Yes well. Give me just a moment.” He shut his eyes again, the world spinning in front of him for a moment. Maybe that headwound was more serious than he had first thought. 

“You alright?” Tegan asked. 

“Oh, yes, quite alright.” 

“Yeah, you sure look it,” Tegan muttered sarcastically. “Come on.” She grabbed at his arm, and her warm touch roused the Doctor enough to make it to his feet. Tegan stepped back and he grinned at her. 

“See, perfectly alright.” 

He took a step forward and the world spun and twisted. Tegan caught him before he slammed into the ground, grabbing his arm and pulling it over her shoulder. 

“I can see that,” she said. “You are an idiot.” 

“Thanks,” the Doctor muttered. 

“I mean it,” Tegan said. She started walking, and with her help the Doctor managed to move his aching legs they way they were mostly supposed to be. It was very inconvenient when legs stopped working. Not recommended, really slowed down the day. 

“No real harm done,” he protested. Tegan snorted. She really was very good at snorting like that. 

“Have you seen yourself recently?” she asked mildly. 

“Usually I’m not in the habit of looking at myself. Seems a bit existential, you know.” 

Tegan sighed heavily, helping him scramble over the rubble. He was mostly able to keep himself moving, but was quietly very grateful for Tegan’s help. And that she had come back for him. 

“You look a right state,” Tegan said. “Blood and gore and everything.” 

“Doesn’t sound far off how I feel,” the Doctor admitted. He could finally make out the TARDIS, not far away, it’s comfortingly familiar blue standing out in the green fields and grey ruins. Nyssa was standing in the doorway, concern clear on her face. The Doctor didn’t exactly relish the quiet lecture he was anticipating from her. “Thank you,” he added to Tegan as she watched him carefully make his way out of the last of the rubble. 

Still swaying slightly, his legs stiff and sore, he followed her back home. 

[thinkin-bout-milgram]

It’s Not My Fault: Initial Thoughts

Hey gang! I may be running out of braincells rapidly due to Futa’s confusing videos and the fact that it’s 3:16 AM but I’m here to give some of my initial thoughts on Mu’s new song, “It’s Not My Fault” (INMF)!

This is gonna be flow of thoughts and some sections might not really connect, but here we go!

T/W: Bullying, mentions of suicide

Queen Bee is being portrayed literally in this MV.

This is obvious, but I do want to touch on the whole bee theming because I think there’s some important stuff.

There’s the obvious stuff with the antennae, buglike body and black and yellow colors. There’s even the jellies, which are probably royal jelly, as Saturn somehow predicted in her random joke post.

What interests me most is her transformation towards the end of the video. Through the entire beginning and middle, she’s a queen bee. However, by the end of the video, she emerges from a chrysalis with sprouted wings and flies off into the sky (2:20). I think that this is her personal transformation from where she is in this MV to how we see her in Milgram. 

Bees have a sting, and while becoming a butterfly meant she lost her status as queen, it gave her the power to fly away. It gave her the ability to be seen as beautiful, harmless. Some kinds of butterflies even migrate, which is exactly what I think Mu was doing here. 

I think that her flying off, away from the shattered hourglass and the carnage that happened, is her escaping to Milgram, a far off place somewhere in the sky or something. She’s the one who’s able to escape the hellish high school she helped create, and because of that, “everything is as [she] wish[es]”. Mu has said before that she likes it better here in Milgram. She’s gotten to start over. Her innocent verdict, to her, means that the slate was wiped clean, and she doesn’t have to answer for her past baggage. Thus, she’s found a new “friend” in Haruka, and she’s returned to her status as queen bee.

Mu and her victim went back and forth vying for power.

I’m not sure how many times it actually swung back and forth; it’s possible that it only actually switched once, and then Mu killed her. Still, we can be certain of this. 

In After Pain, Mu is seen in the hourglass in the bottom. This is where she suffers; things fall on her, and she’s seemingly drowning in the lime green fluid. To me, that means that the one who’s currently suffering, the current victim, is on the bottom. Conversely, the one in the top half of the hourglass is “on top;” they have social control and everything is going as they want it to be. Mu wanted us to believe that she was always on the bottom in After Pain, but in reality, she was once on top, and by the end, she’d gotten the upper hand again.

Mu insists in her audio drama (thanks to @/onigiriico for the fast translation!) that she never bullied the others and has a very negative reaction to the very idea of it. However, in INMF, we see her seemingly doing this exact thing when she pushes over a servant bee, who shatters on the ground (0:32). In Mu’s mind, this is as simple as giving her a little push, but the fact that she ends up completely shattered shows that this must have had a greater impact in the end than Mu is letting on.

My theory is that Mu’s bullying was purely social/verbal. I don’t think she physically attacked anyone; she outright says this in her audio drama, saying she never hit anyone or dumped water on them. Based on After Pain, I think it’s safe to say that some of those things must’ve happened to her at some point. Still, from the audio drama, I get the sense that Mu believes that bullying is only bullying if it becomes physical. I disagree, which is why I’d call Mu a bully, but she thinks so, which is why she still insists that she isn’t after all this time.

Anyways, I think that these two shots (which I believe are the same scene) are a good way to show the energy behind Mu being in power:

If you dare to go against her, if you don’t devote to her, you know you will face negative consequences. Mu can make fun of anyone she wants, and if you don’t serve her properly, she’ll break you. If you dare to oppose her, you’ll face even worse consequences. But in Mu’s mind, that’s because the other person failed first. That person didn’t appreciate her enough, or they tried to attack her character. Based on the setting Mu created, any disobedience towards her could be considered them “starting it.”

Right after this second image, there’s what I believe is a major timeskip to when Mu stabs her victim. I believe that essentially the entirety of After Pain happens at that time jump (~1:45). Mu has ended up victorious, spilling the blood of her adversary. Instead of seeing everyone gossiping about her as she hyperventilates, in INMF, we see her eyes shift to that of her bee form (1:54). This is because, by eliminating her only threat, Mu has become queen once again. To her, this isn’t some tragedy; this is her taking revenge and restoring things to the way it “should be.” She then proceeds to do her butterfly transformation and fly off to Milgram.

After Pain and It’s Not My Fault parallel each other at the beginning and end.

This isn’t a claim so much as an observation, but I did want to touch on it. The scenes at the beginning are slightly different, one having Mu alone on a desk where the hourglass falls onto the floor (control of the hourglass is now out of her reach). In INMF, she flips the hourglass, presumably putting herself on top, and we see her begin her reign as queen bee.

The endings are extremely similar, showing the exact same classroom:

The boards are the same and the flowers are the same. The existence of the flowers, to me, indicates that it must be after the death of the victim. So, why is she here in the end credits?

I think there are a few ways this could go. I know that some people thought that, due to the sock confusion in After Pain (see my mini theory if you don’t know what I’m talking about), the victim might have a twin who died in her place, leaving the intended victim alive to see what happened. I’m not sure I like this one, just because I feel like it’s a pretty unnecessary twist given that Mu isn’t even there to deal with the repercussions (unless, I guess, Mu purposefully killed the wrong twin to make the other suffer more. That would at least matter on a character level). Still, I think that the victim is there symbolically, “after death.” She isn’t there in real life, just in Mu’s thoughts, sort of like how Heather Chandler follows around Veronica Sawyer after she was an accomplice in her murder in Heathers.

As Mu sings about how everything is how she wants it, the hourglass is once again flipped. Based on my earlier theorizing, this should theoretically mean that Mu is going to be on the bottom again, returning to suffering. How would the victim accomplish that from beyond the grave?

Well, as I’ve said, I think that Mu has already flown off to Milgram at this point. As such, I think that there’s one way that the victim could still get her revenge: getting Mu a guilty verdict.

Though Mu seems fully convinced of her own innocence, she definitely seems to have anxiety over the idea of her verdict changing. She tries to really sell Es on the idea that it would be cruel to flip her to guilty now that she’s been voted innocent, and this flip of the hourglass reads almost like a prediction on Mu’s part. The hourglass is flipped back at the end of INMF, so at the beginning of her Trial 3 song, she will be suffering once more, at Kotoko’s hand or just as the hand of the thoughts of the voters. Some lyrics clearly show her trying to convince us of the same thing: “Hey what if / If I am a bad girl / Don’t hate me. Don’t even try to proof from ‘After Pain.’”

The direct inclusion of After Pain tells us, more than anything else, that she is directly addressing her verdict here. Mu believes she’s in the right, but she also believes that we may turn on her as well, whether it’s out of jealousy or whether she believes that maybe she is a bad person somewhere deep down. In either case, I think that, somewhere in Mu’s mind, she expects us to vote her guilty this trial. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Haruka’s fate may rest in Mu’s verdict, and Mu is okay with that.

Mu very clearly states in her audio drama that, because Haruka is happy to make this threat and go through with it, she sees no problem with supporting him. After all, she’s his friend, and she should support his desires, right? ...Yikes.

Mu thinks of Haruka as her friend, and I do think she believes that. I just think that she’s the kind of person who believes that a relationship, friendship or otherwise, will never be equal in power or effort. She prefers to be in the position of greater power and lower effort. Because Haruka is used to and content with being in a position of lower power and higher effort, she simply sees him as a good candidate. I’m not sure how much she really, genuinely cares about him, considering she seems pretty neutral on the subject of his literal potential death, but maybe that’s unfair of me. If I think she’s trying to manipulate us/Es into giving her an innocent verdict, maybe she’s decided that playing it off like she’s okay with Haruka doing it will give her a better shot. I’d believe she’s afraid enough of a guilty verdict to do it.

CURRENT VOTE: GUILTY...?

I say this, but I did technically vote her innocent tonight. Mu is currently hard charging towards a guilty verdict, and I’d honestly be surprised if anyone manages to shift that tide. 

I’m not opposed to the guilty verdict. I think that it is probably our best chance of teaching Mu that there is nuance. She isn’t completely innocent because she got an innocent verdict; any innocent verdict, and especially hers which happened by the thinnest of margins, is not a full mark of approval. I think that, no matter what lingering anxiety she has, if we give her a second innocent verdict, she will be certain that she has, in fact, done nothing wrong. That makes me want to vote her guilty.

But, it just sort of feels... too obvious? Too easy? She expects it, we expected it going into the MV, I’m sure as hell that the Milgram devs expect it. She feels too easy to hate. Maybe that’s a weird thing to say when Yuno seemed to easy to love just a few MVs ago and I was hard on the innocent train, but I can’t really find any anger towards Mu, or much of any emotion at all. She showed her true colors, but they were obvious from the get-go. I was pretty sure she was a bully the whole time.

Plus, I obviously would like to avoid Haruka dying. I don’t think a Mu guilty necessarily guarantees it (hopefully him being restrained due to his guilty verdict would prevent him from killing himself), but it’s definitely a risk we’re taking if we vote her guilty. Then again, I don’t want to give into her demands; that’ll probably only make her more manipulative in the future.

I’m probably overthinking this, and at least for right now, I think that a guilty verdict is probably our best option. Still, for tonight at least, I voted counter-trend in case a new day’s worth of thoughts changes my mind or something. She has plenty of guilty votes; might as well try to make it not irreversible later if something comes up.

[hollow-keys]

This is kinda random. But as a fellow Jason enjoyer and classic Doctor Who enjoyer. What do you think about the difference in narrative treatment and framing of Adric and Jason? They both got blown up (in the 80s) trying to do something noble that didn't really mean anything (the ship wasn't going to wipe out humanity/Sheila betrayed Jason to the Joker for trying to save her). Adric is characterized as not well liked by his peers and Jason is but post-mortem the treatment of Adric is very much a tragedy. They didn't feel a need to aggressively (pretty much every time mentioned) victim blame Adric (as far as I remember I haven't done a proper rewatch, outside of that one bad audio drama that I refuse to engage with) to justify future companions. Not even future teen companions. Meanwhile Jason was seemingly loved but post-mortem was incredibly disrespected and victim blamed by the people who allegedly cared for him. Most mentions of Jason were accompanied with an element of victim blaming.

Also interesting that in Doctor Who the Fifth Doctor thinks that Adric's 'deprived, delinquent upbringing' makes him naive. (There is logic to it. He would likely to be more used to desperate people than malevolent in his difficult situation. Also in this specific case, his trauma seemingly involving a lack of food the robot body no food requirement would make sense.) While Batman says Jason is destined to be a criminal and then characterizes his death as recklessness when there is actually a stronger argument for Jason's death as being the result of naivete. Him trusting in Sheila.

I have thought about Jason and Adric parallels! I'm not familiar with EU Adric content so I can't (yet) comment on it, but I will talk about how the show deals with it.

Adric's death isn't really dwelt upon as much as you'd expect. There's no "Lonely Place of Dying" arc for the Doctor, there's no spiral, he even directly says that Adric wouldn't want them to mourn unnecessarily (which I assume means get lost in grieving rather than meaning any mourning is unnecessary). This is partly because the show, at the time, wasn't really concerned with pulling at your heartstrings too much and following through emotional development plots. Sure, you'd get sad moments, but they wouldn't really deal with them properly after it happened (Katarina's death, Jamie and Zoe getting their memories erased, Turlough's suicide attempt, etc). It's also because the Doctor is a very different, and tbh more emotionally stable character. He's not preoccupied with his own grief or (at least in the Classic series) at risk of going off the deep end without people around to ground him.

Batman, by contrast, was originally more stable but as comics got darker when the Comics Code Authority's censorship got less stringent and writers also actively wanted to fight against the perceptions of comics as childish, he became darker and more brooding, so the writers actively wanted to dwell on traumatic moments where Fifth Doctor era Doctor Who didn't. So part of the reason we didn't get a victim blaming arc for Adric was because they just didn't talk about it.

And Adric didn't have a replacement character to take his role in the narrative. Sure, the Doctor got new companions but none of them took Adric's role. They weren't trying to tear him down to lift someone else up like "See, aren't they so much better at being Adric?"

So yeah, outside a few scenes, Adric doesn't get dwelt so there's no real opportunity for the writers to victim blame him post death, but Jason became a ghost in the narrative that haunted Batman, and a character for Tim to supercede, which gave them a lot of chances to shit talk him, which they did take.

Additionally, Jason got resurrected (which was a decision that wasn't made for his character but rather to create a new villain for Batman) so to justify this darker turn, they made a point of going "See, he was destined to be criminal. Here's all this foreshadowing." Well, it's less foreshadowing and more backshadowing since it was inserted after the fact. Adric doesn't have that.

There's really nothing to motivate them going "See, Adric was always bad and he's worse now." He's just a character that a lot of people didn't really like who's only really remembered positively in the context of his death. Which is apparent in Tales of the TARDIS where Five and Tegan can't seem to say anything nice about him.

FIVE: "He was so..."

TEGAN: "Oh he was a nightmare."

FIVE: "He was daft and silly and sulky and... He was just a kid."

I've talked before about how I don't like how certain DW writers will make the Doctor straight up unreasonable to his companions or overly mean, and how Adric was treated def falls into that sometimes. Like yeah, him and Five arguing over going through the CVE to get home in Earthshock is in character tetchiness from the Doctor, but Five calling him a naive idiot in Four to Doomsday without giving him a chance to explain himself (which you brought up, and I thought the writers had him side with the villain for no reason but you do bring up a good point about hunger, I wish his motives were more focused on in narrative and he was given more sympathetic characterisation) and Five berating him for losing control of the Total Survival Suit in Kinda was just unnecessarily mean to me and I think part of it was because the writers just didn't like Adric so the Doctor didn't either I guess.

This moment is another case of that because that's not how you talk about a teenager who died violently in an attempt to save people, one who was also smart and determined (along with his negative traits). The writers just don't seem to notice it as mean because they don't like him.

Which is more in line with how Jason is talked about post death. "Yeah, we don't like him but his death was sad." Noteworthy that this is written in retrospect in an era where DW is much more concerned with ~emotional moments~ and it was written by RTD, who is A Fan of a Certain Generation who probably never liked Adric and can't bring himself to describe him nicely in any way (but still wants to use his death to pull at people's heartstrings), so of course Adric gets more of the Jason treatment.

And that, fundamentally, is the fate of Jason and Adric. To be disrespected as characters but have their deaths used as Emotional Moments (please get out the violins) by writers who don't see them very sympathetically outside of that.

I hope that wasn't overly long or meandering, thanks for asking!

[blogofloathing]

A loud, cheesy anthem plays as an awful stylilized OCWE appears on a black and white TV screen

"Good belated myorning folks, I am your esteemed host! Gillian Barlows Jr! And you are watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire! Hyere to bring you the latest scyoop on the people of our great city! who are they? Why are they? When are they? How do they peel their y'apples? Let's find out nyow!"

A new fangled transition effect plays as Gillian gives an overly exaggerated shocked expression.

Approaching our first interviewee, Gygan Clarks of the Ocean City Watchful Eye, but it seems he isn't particularly excited to see us haha, wonder why.

Our trusty boom man sticks the mic in his face, at which Gygan looks visibly annoyed, sheesh you'd think we killed this guys business or something.

"What do you want Gillian" he spat, frankly I'm offended he would be so rude to a reporter!

My cameraman delivers the question after a discreet go ahead sign waved in his direction

"Look unless you think apples can make coffee taste better I'm not interested," Gygan hisses, and after a short pause mutters "with a pocket knife"

And indeed if the bulge in his pocket isn't due to seeing me, he carries said weapon on him.

Let's move on from this wannabe newsman before he gets violent! You know how those types are.

Grumbling to himself, something about "fuckin' trend hopping fast news pieces of-" haha anyway!

An apple shaped transition plays, and due to formatting issues doesn't properly disappear

•••

Our next guest went up to us herself upon hearing there was a survey, so give it up for.. Simone Chekhov! Of the S.I.T Robotics department—

Somehow interrupting this audio added in post, the girl fires up a seemingly long held rant.

"Well actually it's Robotechtronics there's a very subtle but important difference in the two fields but anyway I made a machine that peels them so precisely the skin dissolves in contact with the air due to being sliced at such a thin micromascopic level that their mololcules are-" a thin homeless girl sticks a thumbs up wildly behind Simone.

The video is suddenly stopped here due to space, a cartoonish image of sad Gillian giving a thumbs down is shown onscreen for a few seconds.

•••

we're sorry to cut this short but our camera ran plumb out of juice trying to record it all haha!

Though this did little to falter her one sided rant, even as we turned our attention away from her

Moving onto the aforementioned hobo (it's good to get a perspective from the less than fortunate.)

"OOO OOO you're gonna ask me a question! Give it here!" She jumps excitedly, the words slamming into our crew much in the same way she physically rammed into my mic man in her overzealousness

The dusty girl, who we made sure didn't touch any of our equipment, had been chittering something inane at Simone when we asked, somehow able to properly talk between each other rather than over.

"I dunno I just chomp em, see?" taking a playful bite out of her sour face, leaving a toothy mark.

... the sounds of crickets chirping has been added

"Agh! Victoria!" She expleted, wiping her face off with her sleeve, "that's gross- you're gross!"

Though Victoria didn't seem too bothered, a sly little grin making its home on her spotted face.

"Hey don't pretend ya didn't like it" she slithered, at which Simone gave her a rather hard smack on the head "and there's more where that came from!" The bespectacled girl tittered haughtily.

A tinny and muffled laugh track plays, as Gillian audibly clicks a tape recorder to start and stop

•••

Moving on from those, shall we say interesting, characters, our boom operator caught wind of some music playing a few blocks down.

And we followed the groovy tunes to their source, coming upon quite the cello fellow!

Who is contentedly playing his instrument, my team having to remind him of the question, "oh I just slice em up with my trusty pocketknife!" Holding it up for a second before going back to ringing out the tunes.

Looks to be the same kinda knife as that.. eh I forgot his name already.

I say someone should definitely toss that guy a quarter, not me though.

Really if he can afford a cello is he actually that poor I mean cmon- ah, I've been instructed by my cameraman to stop here.

A bubble and wave crashing sound effect plays too loudly, with a chintzy fade to black transition

•••

Taking a dip per sé, we find.. someone else to ask.

Attempting to avoid being seen, the oddly slimy fellow is hiding against a wall, but seeing as his clothes aren't the exact shade and texture of bricks, "I, I don't know what an apple is? please leave me alone.." he croaks out in a froggy tone.

"Would you like to try one?" My boom operator chipperly inquires, at which the still unnamed weirdo looks even more terrified of us than before

"N-no I'm good really I.." it trailed off, guess they make hobos different these days, I can't get a read on what this guy might be on the street to beg for.

"Cmon I'll get ya a fresh one" he says again, taking a step closer to it, making the thing jump loudly.

Before running away from my team in a lurch, leaving weird wet slappy footprints in his wake.

Well that was certainly productive, why don't we heed this guys words and move on to another!

A hexagon transition with a splat sound effect, it doesn't even fully segue, cutting halfway through

•••

At the urging of my team, we reluctantly almer over to a goblin for questioning, she seemed to be dancing animatedly.. or maybe boxing with the air?

"Hi! Yes yes Hello! To apples slicing? No no, Gabby is practicing see?" It said, nearly assaulting one of my cameramen, "Gabby is champion of the box!"

a goofy swirl sound effect and then a laugh track

We don't speak creature so I have no idea what any of that meant, I'd say we get out of here before that thing gets aggressive, I've heard the stories of these kinds of monsters being dangerous!

They're lucky they don't have rights or else we'd totally sue them for emotional damages.

a spooky transition effect plays, bats flying across the screen and a very poorly done witches laugh

•••

As we were making our way back to the studio, my mic man caught eye of some kinda hobo living in the alley, I insisted we don't interview something like that but who listens to me around here?

Walking up to her, I'm already less than enthused about her appearance, something in her eyes wasn't like it should be, they seemed to stare directly inside of us unlike anything.

"Hello ma'am how would you say you peel-" my other cameraman began, being cut off by her wheezily trilling poem, "peel? Peeling, skin peeling wallpaper off the wall, apples falling trees cutting"

I.. wow! Okay! That is not at all what any of us were expecting, all our hairs stood violently on end.

Like looking into the den of a wounded predator about to make a strike, protecting its wounds.

She stepped closer to us, gazing through us, it felt as though she saw more than just my skin.

"Apples and oranges" it felt as though she wasn't even talking to us, despite facing our direction.

No one bothered putting a transition effect here, the camera simply cuts right to the next scene

•••

aaaaand one last questioneer today folks! As we were wrapping up and dutifully wiping down and sanitizing our stuff to get all the filth off them, a distracted old guy bumped into us, and sooooo!

"Oh! Eh uh, I mostly just eat cheese" the weirdo said emphatically before forcing us to look at a horrible mass of aged milk madness, before reassuring us that "it's Käse Brezel! The finest in the city! If ya see me come and buy so-" yeah no

Sorry sir I don't even know what language you just spoke there but I can tell it ain't somethin I'm gonna be eating, especially from someone like you

Though my crew seems oddly interested in it, I'll have to show them what real food is like I guess,

gives me an excuse to hang out with those mooks.

anywho, our final stop of the day was a nice little cheese pretzel shop, the finest in the city!

An equally loud and somehow even cheesier little outro theme plays as we fade back onto Gillian

"Well thyank you all for tyuning in this fine after nyoon, we hope we could answer all of your deep byurning questions! As always I am your esteemed host; Gillian Barlows Jr! And you have been watching the Ocean City Watcher Éire, where we catch up the scyoop and throw it to your hyoop! See y'all nyext week with our next Q: how good is the government doing right now? ( A: pyerfect!)"

[alfvaen]

Novel Madness

Still reading, and apparently still blogging about it.

So this is what I read in March. Possible spoilers for the Vorkosigan Saga, and the Mercy Thompson and Peter Grant series, among others.

Jeffrey Cranor & Janina Matthewson: You Feel It Just Below The Ribs, completed March 2

So as you may recall, back in February, I had given up on Ruth Ozeki's A Tale From The Time Being, wasn't fond of Kristen Painter's Flesh And Blood, and was also not really liking the nonfiction book on Reddit I was reading.

I was somewhat tempted to just skip ahead to my reread of Memory, my favourite book in the Vorkosigan series. I mean, when I had started doing more frequent rereads, it had been after just such a string of subpar books, and I wanted to retrench and remind myself why I loved reading. Looking back in my records, I can't actually find that string of subpar books, but I can find about when I started doing the rereads--the fall of 2007, when I started doing a Wheel of Time reread, where every second book was a reread; it was the first time I reread the entire series (up to that point, which was Knife of Dreams). After that, my rereads went back to their more sporadic pace, until the spring of 2008 when I did an every-second-book reread of the Vorkosigan saga (the first of three such rereads in the next few years). And I kept doing every-second-book-a-reread for two years, at which point I slowed down to mostly every third book. By 2012 this was down to every fourth book, and there it seemed to stabilize. So it wouldn't be unprecedented for me to do my rereads more frequently, but the cycle has been stable for a while--I added in the alternation of author gender, the diversity slot, the trying-out slot…it would throw my cycle off now if I did the rereads more frequently. But don't think I wasn't tempted.

Anyway… I was looking for a male author, something that wasn't urban fantasy (because of the Kristen Painter), probably something that wasn't space opera (because Memory was still coming up)… I toyed with the idea of selecting something that might be "fun" (like John Scalzi's Agent To The Stars or the Doctor Who And The Krikkitmen book), but there were also books that I had been thinking "maybe" on for some time and hadn't yet picked up. And You Feel It Just Below The Ribs was one of them.

Many of you are likely familiar with Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor's "Welcome To Night Vale" podcast, which I discovered relatively early (by current standards--maybe around the "Sandstorm" episodes?). I've see the show a couple of times when it came through (or near) Edmonton, I try to keep up on the podcast (though mostly I fail because I can't keep up with a bimonthly podcast schedule any more), and I have read all of the tie-in novels and the script books. The novels are decent, not great, but okay. And I have also tried out a lot of the other related podcasts--"Alice Isn't Dead" and "Within The Wires" are the ones I stuck with.

"Within The Wires" was always weird, and not every season was great, but it was an interesting combination of two conceits--one, that every season was done through "found audio", which included relaxation tapes with hidden messages, dictaphone recordings, answering machine messages, and museum audio guide recordings, among others. And two, that this all took place in an alternate history where, due to an early-20th-century upheaval called The Reckoning, the new regime had taken the drastic step of abolishing the family: breaking the emotional links between parent and child by altering their memories and raising the children in communal creches. (There's also a distinct shortage of male characters in the podcast, which is fine--at some point I'd even thought that men had been wiped out entirely, but there are occasional male characters mentioned now and then. And the new season features a male voice actor for the first time.) But we've never really gotten much detail about the Reckoning, because it was too far in the past, and nobody needed to talk about it much because it was just part of their common world. (Maybe in the season where we were following a woman who was part of a secret rebel group that did raise their own children, but even then we didn't get much.) So I was very interested in the novel that they came out with, in hopes that we would find out more about what the Reckoning actually was and how the change in society came about.

It's a bit of an odd novel--it has a sort of framing story of it being a found document, and has frequent footnotes. But I'm not clear why it was done like this. The document is the memoirs of a woman who was orphaned during the Reckoning--which seems here to have been a worst-case version of World War I that lasted until 1941 and did literally engulf the entire world, possibly with a worse flu pandemic as well. (This was published during Covid so that may have affected things a little.) The author, Miriam Gregory, ended up being influential to the whole post-Reckoning New Society practice of editing memories to remove parent-child bonds. She later got involved with the mysterious Institute from the first season, and there were some hints of the plot from the third (the political thriller told through dictaphone recordings). The footnotes mostly seem to be there to try to point out places where the editors of the document found stuff they were pretty sure was inaccurate. They quoted information from the official record and mentioned when there was no evidence of something existing or having happened at all. Which, okay, maybe this was people parroting the official history even with all its inaccuracies, as a method of showing how the truth had been hidden. But supposedly the publication of this document was being done by a group which was already not following the New Society party line, so why would they be so certain that this was wrong whenever it contradicted the accepted source of truth? It's not clear, and so it seems like they're just there to undermine the story whenever it gets too dramatic. It doesn't feel like an effective technique.

Overall it was a decent book, but flawed, and I felt like it could have covered more of the world than it did.

Lois McMaster Bujold: Memory, completed March 5

I have probably mentioned before that Memory is my flat-out favourite Bujold book. It's not an easy one to recommend to other people, though, because it may only work (and certainly works much better) if you've read all the previous books first. Jo Walton has talked about the "spearpoint theory", where a tiny sharp point can be made much more effective if you've had a lot of buildup to it. This book has a shaft consisting of all the Miles books and stories that came before. Obviously Mirror Dance, of course, the immediate prequel, but it has an especially poignant revisiting of "The Mountains of Mourning", as well as the reappearance of Duv Galeni from Brothers In Arms, and robust roles for Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, Delia Koudelka, Ivan Vorpatril, and Simon Illyan, who is central to the plot. It also has one of the dullest titles in the series, though it is relevant, not least because of the reference to Simon Illyan's eidetic memory chip.

The first part is the most painful, as Miles manages to lose most of what's important to himself through an attempt to keep it from slipping away. But I love almost every scene that takes place on Barrayar. It's such a treat just to see Miles coping with day-to-day life there (my favourite bit is still the convenience-store "Reddi-Meals!"), plunged back into a life he's been neglecting for years, that it doesn't even feel disappointing when it's over a third of a way into the book before the "real" plot really gets going. Because the shaft of that spear is still building up.

In later rereads, there are some bits I find fascinating. Like the worldbuilding details about the existence of Imperial Auditors, special investigators answerable only to the Emperor himself, that actually were never mentioned before in the series. But the way the native Barrayarans explain it to one Komarran feels completely organic, and they've known it all along, so surely these Auditors have been mentioned before? Nope, they're probably something that the author pulled out of her hat for this book (there were "auditors" mentioned in the framing story of Borders of Infinity, but I think they were just regular auditors, not Imperial ones). But if feels like they've always been in the background. (Maybe, if they were, they should have been mentioned in Barrayar somewhere? Well, whatever. Good enough.) Also, there was one relationship that blindsided me first time through, but now I can spot all the groundwork being laid for it all the way through. Very deft.

Steven Barnes: Zulu Heart, completed March 12

Next, according to my cycle, it was time for a book by a "diverse" male author. As I may have mentioned before, I seem to be much shorter on those than I am on female diversity, particularly on the black authors.

I first read Steven Barnes many years ago, at least in collaboration. His book with Larry Niven, Dream Park, has long been a favourite; I recall one day, after a stressful move between cities, that I spent just rereading the book from cover to cover. The sequels never hit quite the same spot, though, which may be why, although I did occasionally buy a Barnes solo book in a second-hand store, I had never actually gotten around to reading any of them. But they were there when I needed to draw from them for this slot. A couple of years ago I read his Lion's Blood, an alternate history novel about a world where African (and mostly Muslim) nations colonized the New World (which I believe they called Bilalistan), and they enslaved Europeans. (I don't recall if there was an in-universe explanation for the change in dominance--maybe the ever-popular Hyper-Virulent Black Death--or if it just turned out that way. There was something about Alexander The Great maybe going to Egypt…) One of the main characters was an Irish man named Aidan who was enslaved as a child near the beginning of the book, and separated from his sister; the other one was a black Muslim named Kai, son of a Wakil in Bilalistan. It probably covers a lot of slave-story tropes, but race-swapped, plus there's also drama an intrigue centered around Kai's family. It was an okay book, but I wasn't particularly planning on searching out the sequel; however, last summer at the When Words Collide convention in Calgary, I saw it on a table of "free to a good home" books, and decided to pick it up. And having basically exhausted pretty much all the other possibilities, I was perforce reading it next.

Once of the principles I mostly stick to with the diversity books is that I don't give up on them. (Maybe I should have done this with the Ruth Ozeki book last month, but I guess I didn't.) It's supposed to be about broadening my horizons, approaching different kinds of stories, etc. I've always been a little hit-or-miss with alternate histories; my perception, at least, is that a lot of them tend to focus on the same things--the American Civil War, the American Revolutionary War, World War II--all American stuff. This one is, at least, a little more creative, and is very black culture focused in a way that, frankly, Barnes's other books I read really weren't.

Plotwise, though, it's only okay; some threads are interesting, some I'm less interested in, and some seem to be a little rushed, as if he was trying to squeeze in plots from a third book the publisher had nixed. The back cover blurb seems to imply that the book is going to cover this world's version of the Civil War, but given that they're still colonies of overseas nations (Egypt and Abyssinia) it's really more like a Revolutionary War. And, spoilers, what there is of it is not a major part of the story. In that sense it's almost more like Diana Gabaldon's later books where the (American) Revolutionary War is going on, and it affects our characters, but it's not primarily about the war itself. And maybe this book would have benefited from being even longer to have that increased scope.

I do worry a bit about the reversed slavery idea--on the one hand, maybe it'll give some of us white people a better feeling for what the Africans suffered under slavery if we replace them with Europeans. The concepts that stuck with me were things like having white slaves given Arabic or African names rather than names from their own culture, and also all the African cultures being treated as distinct things while all the European cultures get jumbled together. But I also picture some people pointing at this and saying, "See? They'd do just the same as us if they were in charge!" Which may be true, but of course it doesn't say that, in our world, the slaves in America didn't suffer, and we're not living in that alternate world. It means that one group may not be inherently nobler than another, but that doesn't mean that they're not deserving of justice, or equity, or reparations. (I can also picture frothing white supremacists screaming that this the what the blacks want, and turning it into a story of white victimhood. Well, I guess we can't control what white supremacists are going to froth about.) It's not a bad thing, but it seems like it can be mischaracterized. (One novel I was working on, I have a setting with an area's native inhabitants being oppressed by intrusive colonials, and I was toying with the idea of having the natives be white, but I'm afraid it'd get read as anti-immigrant rather than anti-colonial, so I probably won't.)

Natalie Zina Walschots: Hench, completed March 16

After the long and somewhat topically heavy slavery book, I decided I was in the mood for something maybe a little lighter, and it was time to get back to a female author. My wife had recommended this Hench book to me, and nudged me about it a couple of times, and I decided to give it a go. I know that technically I do have my special slots for new authors (with the "try but feel free to give up if it does not spark joy" parameters), but if I never tried a new author outside of those slots, then it would take forever me to try all the ones I'm interested in, so I decided to let myself read this one.

The book is clearly set in a world with superheroes, and of course supervillains. I've read a lot of comics--mainly Marvel comics from the 60s through to the 90s (my attempt at a comprehensive read-through on Marvel Unlimited has just inched its way to the end of 1993, so I may be a little behind on the current state of the superhero genre, apart from the MCU stuff) but fewer actual prose novels. I suspect that the modern superhero novel, with its narrower focus, is more prone to examining superheroes in more depth, and frankly most of them tend to come out on the anti-superhero side of things, and at the very least turns them into more complex, flawed characters. The Annihilation Score tended to treat them as problematic; Brandon Sanderson's "Reckoners" series treats them as existential threats (admittedly, in that setting their powers literally drive them insane); and at best, they are severely flawed people who just happen to have powers, as in James Alan Gardner's "Sparks Vs. The Dark" series. Maybe it's a generational thing--in an age where the status quo is far from kind to the vast majority of those who are Millennials or younger, who are your sympathies with--heroes who fight to uphold the status quo, or the villains who subvert it? (Which is not too far off from the logic from that gets people to vote for Trump…)

Hench shows us mostly the villain side of the story, with superheroes mostly shown as overpowered thugs and walking disasters. We're mostly concerned with Supercollider, an example of the former, whose every brush with our protagonist leaves her damaged, and his longtime nemesis Leviathan, who lifts her up and makes her feel valued. I keep wanting to draw analogues with the heroes I'm familiar with--is Supercollider basically Superman? Leviathan seems more like Doctor Doom than anybody. Supercollider's partner Quantum Entanglement (a bit of an awkward name) seems more like a combination of Invisible Woman and Shadowcat than anything else. (I'm always low-key amused at superhero naming where they just silently have to avoid the names of real Marvel or DC characters, without seeming to. In my superhero stories I mostly tend to think that the real heroes are afraid of getting sued by the corporate juggernauts who own the trademarks on the fictional ones…) It got a lot darker than I was expecting, actually, but it was absorbing and I liked it a lot.

Patricia Briggs: Silver Borne, completed March 19

I had originally been thinking of something like Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower for my next book, but after Hench I wasn't feeling like it; instead I thought it might be time for another urban fantasy. I have started so many, and finished (or even caught up with) so few--the Dresden Files, for sure, and the Kelly Meding might be the only one. I find a lot of them appealing in the abstract, but it seems like they appeal to my wife more, so she's the one who reads then, gets hooked on the series, stays caught up, buys them in hardcover, etc. She has always been more of a fan of romance, and a lot of the female-authored urban fantasy seems like it's on a spectrum to paranormal romance. (The main difference, of course, is probably whether there's a single continuing protagonist, or a different romantic pairing every book.) Anyway, I'm in the middle of a lot of series, and it seems to take a lot to get me to the state where I get hooked and have to start reading them faster, so it can be years between books for me.

Patricia Briggs has, like many, split off a side series--her main series follows Mercedes "Mercy" Thompson, but there's also a "Charles & Anna" series which crosses over, and after the last Mercy Thompson book (Bone Crossed) left me a little underwhelmed, I had started those books, so the last Briggs I read was actually side series novel Cry Wolf. Apparently reading them in alternation is not a bad idea anyway, so I went back to Mercy for this one. I even remembered most of the characters, or at least was satisfied with the author's descriptions of them (a lot of minor werewolf pack members showed up, and I couldn't tell you for sure which ones we'd seen before or had character traits before this book).

The pacing was a little weird--there's basically three plot threads which show up at different times, which aren't really connected causally but do interact with each other, and the balance doesn't always work (like pack politics dominating everything else for a few chapters until we get back to our other plots), but it was better than Bone Crossed, at least. It's unfortunate, given how much urban fantasy I read, how little I enjoy the dominance politics of werewolf packs, and particularly the touchiness of Alphas. (Oh, no, we can't meet their gaze or undermine their authority or it's a challenge and they'll have to kill us. And they can't show any weakness or others will try to kill them.)

Next book in the series will be back to Charles & Anna, anyway. I am not yet really hooked on the series, but I'll keep going for now.

Lois McMaster Bujold: Komarr, completed March 22

Back to the Vorkosigans again, for Komarr. Like her other planet-named books, it takes place entirely on the planet in question (if we allow space stations in the same system to be close enough, anyway), the troubled vassal of Barrayar. Because the only current access to Barrayar comes through a wormhole in the Komarr system, and the earlier Cetagandan invasion of the planet was abetted by the Komarrans, Barrayar ended up conquering Komarr to secure its interface to the rest of the world. (I always wondered if it was only upon conquest of a second planet that Barrayar became a true empire, but I think they had emperors before that so probably not.) They've tried to be benevolent rulers since then, but we already saw in Brothers In Arms that there are those, like Ser Galen, that want to get rid of the Barrayaran yoke. And Aral Vorkosigan acquired the sobriquet of "The Butcher of Komarr" when a group of prisoners in his custody were executed--supposedly on his orders, but in fact it was an overzealous subordinate who Aral later killed.

Miles comes along to investigate a bizarre act of destruction--accident or sabotage, we don't yet know--where the "soletta array", a group of orbiting mirrors reflecting additional sunlight onto the cold, still-being-terraformed world (the world's population still lives in domed cities), has been damaged through collision with an off-course ship. He's mostly just shadowing older Lord Auditor Vorthys, the engineering professor who's analyzing the debris, and they end up staying over with Vorthys's niece Ekaterin Vorsoisson, who is our other viewpoint character in the book. Ekaterin has a highly unsympathetic husband, Tien, who has a secret shame, a hidden genetic disease called Vorzohn's Dystrophy. He also happens to be in charge of a small department of the terraforming effort.

I guess my biggest problem with this book is just that Tien and his department turn out to be directly related to the soletta disaster. I mean, think of it--the disaster happens, and an auditor is sent to investigate it. If it hadn't happened to be someone connected to Tien, the investigation might have gone nowhere, or taken a lot longer, because they wouldn't have had that extremely gratuitous link. It bugs me every time.

So the best part of the book is probably the introduction of Ekaterin, and her growth as a character through to the end of the book, where she strikes a decisive blow. And without it, we wouldn't have A Civil Campaign (or would, at least, have a much different book). But it is a dip in what would otherwise be a five-star run from Mirror Dance.

Shaun Barger: Mage Against The Machine, completed March 27

Catchy title, eh? That's probably part of why I picked it up in the first place, though I don't remember for sure. This is in my actual "trying a new author" slot, generally with permission to give up if the book doesn't grab me.

Essentially, it seems that the world ended at some point (2020?) when the machines/AIs rose up against the humans. The mages, who had been living in secret veiled communities for centuries, were hidden and thus not affected by this, though they're pretty sure that the humans were all wiped out. At least, that's what Nikolai, a young magically-talented officer (with a traumatic past) in the year 2120, has always been told.

Meanwhile, outside the veil, a young human cybernetically-enhanced woman named Jem, who remembers the machine uprising ten years earlier (she has her own tramatic past), and who mostly escaped because they were on the way to a colony on Venus at the time, is working as a courier, escorting a rare pregnant woman (unaffected by the fertility plagues the machines spread) through the fringes of Philadelphia.

The two stories go back and forth for several chapters in what seems like an attempt to sow confusion in the reader about the inconsistencies between the two versions of the timeline, which mostly led me to conclude that either these are literally parallel worlds, or that the mages are severely misinformed about the last century of history outside the veils. Or, presumably, most of them are misinformed but the ones at the top are all in on it and keeping the secret for their own reasons.

It seems like a bit of a hodgepodge. Part The Matrix, part Harry Potter (the mages have a sport named "flyball" that seems a lot of like Quidditch without broomsticks), part Brandon Sanderson/Brent Weeks (the flavour of the actual magic system), part Children of Men, part Wool (for the sheltered society ignorant of the world outside)… But I guess that means it's not too derivative, because of the variety of sources?

The biggest problem with it, really, is that the story clearly is not finished…but, in the five years since its release, no further books have come out. The author still seems to be actively posting on Instagram, and I found a Reddit post which said that as of two years ago the sequel was finished (and apparently there are supposed to be four books total), so I hazard a guess that the roadblocks are publishing-related. Like, his editor, Navah Wolfe, bought the first book for Saga Press, but moved on, so he might be editorially orphaned, leading to Saga passing on later books, so he'd have to be looking for a new publisher, or giving up and self-publishing (or just giving up). Always awkward--ask my wife who has two self-published sequels to the books that Scholastic published twenty-some years ago, because no other publisher would take them without rights to the first two. (Diana Rowland managed it somehow, but mostly it just doesn't work.) So I may hang on to this one and await further news (which presumably he'd post on Instagram or something…)

Ben Aaronovitch: Whispers Under Ground, completed March 31

Most of the urban fantasy series out there had female authors and female protagonists; I tend to call this the "post-Buffy" wave--before that, it felt like "urban fantasy" was more like Charles de Lint, with people in and around cities coming into contact with fairies and the like. Although stuff like Tanya Huff's "Blood Ties" series was also around back then, and that's clearly very close to what we call urban fantasy these days. Anyway. There are a few male authors as well, Jim Butcher the most famous, and Kevin Hearne, but they have a different flavour to them. And then there's Ben Aaronovitch, which is different again, being very British. Which is all just a way of saying that, while I normally try not to read too-similar books too close together, this doesn't really feel very much like the Patricia Briggs book I read a couple of weeks ago.

I'm a bit behind on this series--I read Midnight Riot (the North American retitled version of Rivers of London) some time ago, and Moon Over Soho more recently but still a while ago. But my wife was just reading the latest, Amongst Our Weapons, from the library, and apparently it's full of Monty Python references (in the chapter titles, if nothing else), and my eldest son was just reading Midnight Riot (apparently he'd heard that this series's magic system is vaguely similar to the system from the Ars Magica RPG we've been playing recently), so it felt like time to revisit it. My memory is of course a little fuzzy, but my overall impression is that this book is a little more police-procedural murder mystery than the previous two. Definitely there is a murder to solve, and there is a lot of interaction with other police (and an American FBI agent). Definitely a certain amount of underground (including sewers), as the title implies (so it's not just the London Underground). I enjoyed it and will have to try to revisit the series a little more frequently.

And that's it for the prose fiction books for March. For completeness I can also add in a graphic novel I squeezed in (literally just finished it before midnight on the 31st). See, one of the podcasts I've been listening to for a while is the "Endless" podcast, about the Sandman, cohosted by Lani Diane Rich and Alisa Kwitney. Kwitney, who was a former DC editor, particularly on Sandman itself, also apparently did a series for Ahoy Comics called "G.I.L.T.", which they were shilling on the podcast, so I thought I'd give it a try. I got my library to order what turned out to be a collection of the first five issues (I guess I'm not sure if there are more, but I wouldn't be surprised). "G.I.L.T." apparently stands for something like "Guild of Independent Lady Temporalists", though I'm not sure such a guild actually turned up… Anyway, two women, 70ish Hildy and 50ish Trista, get sent back in time to 1973, though Trista wasn't supposed to come along; they try to deal with their respective pasts, linked by a creepy cult-leader type that Hildy was engaged to and Trista's mother was a follower of. They're not supposed to be able to change anything, but they're also not supposed to both go back at once, so things get a little screwy. I wasn't 100% sold on it, but it was interesting.

And now I am actually reading The Raven Tower, but that'll be for next month's post.

[lyon-amore]

What if...? Duskwood Chapter 42

Chapter 41 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*Macie POV*

 I feel so helpless that I didn't get Alan to keep searching Grimrock, which he decided to stop searching. I don't even want to think about what the group will do when they see my message. But I'm sure they'll want to go to Grimrock.

 The upside of all this is that Jake got me audios from Alan's computer about Amy Bell Lewis. As I listen, I try to focus on every detail that Alan is saying. This is important to discuss with Jake. The name of the body was announced the day before yesterday, but how long will Alan have kept this information? I have a feeling he must have seen something strange not to want to announce it on the news yet.

I finish listening to them and see Jake who seems focused on his phone. Maybe he must be waiting for the group chat response. I don't think it's going to be nice when the group knows that I haven't made it.    "Jake?" I call him, letting out a sigh.    "Have you heard them all yet?" He asks me, putting the phone away.    "Yeah, I've heard it all."    "Very well" He puts his hands together, concentrated ". I would like to hear your thoughts on these recordings."     I nod. I feel that we are making progress after a long time and this is finally something important.    "Of course" I answered centered, not wanting to waste any more time "we should talk about them immediately."     Now Jake nods, settling back in the chair.    "Let us begin with the first recording" I start to imagine the scenario in my head ". Before Alan could enter the apartment, he made a strange discovery on Amy's front door."    "The mark of the raven" A shiver runs through me as I remember the mark on Jessy's door. Whether it was for her so she could save Phil or me to stay away, it's still a horrible thing to experience such a threat ". Amy was marked, too."     Jake makes a noise of agreement, along with a slight 'Yes'. I keep thinking. There's something strange, why didn't Amy remove the mark? Having a painted crow could catch anyone's eye and ask quite a bit.    "What is it, Macie?" I look directly into his eyes, taking me out of concentration "You have been very quiet all of a sudden."    "Amy didn't wipe away the symbol" I crossed my arms, thinking about it ". Unlike Richy."    "That is a very good observation" Jake agrees ". Perhaps she wanted to go to the police and thus treated this marking as a piece of evidence."     Or maybe something worse.    "Or she didn't have time..."    "Also a possibility."     The feeling that maybe everything happened quickly came to my mind. No markings were found on Hannah's door, so it was quite possible that they were after her soon after to kill her.    "Alan found an empty envelope in Amy's room" Jake recalls. It's quite curious ". The envelope had been sealed, but also opened again." then he looks at me like he's lecturing me "Did Amy or the culprit open it?"    “The culprit” I replied, remembering the empty envelope ". He also took the letter."    "What do you think, why did this envelope have neither an address nor a return address on it?"     Usually when you do those kinds of letters, they're goodbye letters or maybe it's like Hannah, trying to get over what happened by writing. But it must have contained something very important for that letter to have disappeared, and the only one who could have taken it away was our perpetrator.    "Amy wrote the letter herself and wasn’t planning of sending it" I says, with a slightly sadder theory now. But at the moment, not knowing what was in it, it's too early for me to tell.    "An interesting an plausible conclusion." Jake rubbed his chin in concentration.    "And what do you think?"    “Well” he clears her throat, preparing to speak “, actually, my interpretation is exactly the same as yours: Amy had written the letter to herself. The perpetrator found the letter, read it, and proceed to take it with him."    "Which means we must be right." I replied with a smile.     Jake smiles at me, and I get a little distracted by looking into his eyes. It's nice to forget what happened with Alan and focus on us and our investigation.    "Okay, um…" Jake runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit. I think I've distracted him again "Let us continue."    "Yes."    "I am sure you remember the comment Alan made concerning the position of Amy's body."     I remember, remembering the news and the photo of the memorial stone.    “Yes, of course” I nod, “, her body was brought into the forest by the killer."    "Yes" Jake gets up and starts walking, thinking ". We have already talked about this in the past and Alan also saw a deeper meaning behind this” He stops and looks me square in the eye ". He saw a message that the killer wanted to convey and that tried to understand it."    "You’re right, and that’s what I still believe."    "What would that point be?" He goes to the computer and I get up, moving closer to him.    "He wanted to make a connection between Amy's death and Jennifer's accident." I replied, seeing that he had put the photo from the news on the computer.    "Exactly."     We stared at it, focused. Surely the police will have thought that the same killer of Amy is Jennifer's. When unfortunately it is not.    "Without the body positioning, we would never have made the connection to Jennifer and by extension, to Hannah." I look at him and he looks at me "So who would be interested in taking her body to the monument?"     I bite the inside of my cheek, not wanting to say it. Alan had made it clear and I trusted this theory.    "Michael Hanson..." I say his name for the first time, not believing my words and dragging his name.    "I think so too" he sighs heavily ". This point of view still fits him perfectly.” He leans against the table, rearranging the photos of the house ". With Amy's body at Jennifer's monument, he sends us with an unmistakable message. However…" I lean on the table, crossing my arms waiting for his answer "According to Alan, Michael Hanson is no longer with us."     It doesn't make sense then. My first theory remains the same. But it would cause a lot of damage to everyone and it's better to negotiate with him before he can do something crazy in fear.    “I would like to hear your opinion on this matter, Macie.” Jake calls me, waking me from my thoughts.    “I think Michael is really dead.” I say slowly and sadly.    “Well” Jake replies, agreeing with me. But it only lasts a few seconds ". The possibility that Michael has merely been hiding for all this time is still there” he looks at me, raising his eyebrows “With a false identity, perhaps in different city or even another country."    "It seems highly unlikely to me." I reply, not really believing it.    "I can assure you that it is not so."     I get it now. He must know better himself. I still don't even know his last name. That Jake will have been taken for dead, sure.    “I think Alan had Michael declared dead…” I stand by this theory now. Maybe he's just a poor man that he wanted to disappear "That's why he reacts so deflective when it comes to the subject of Michael."    “Yes… I believe that’s is quite likely."     I lean on him, giving him support. Jake tilts my chin up, giving me a small kiss. I smile at him, happy to feel his lips again.    "Okay" he sits up and strokes my hair, then runs his fingers over my face, caressing me lovingly ", I think we have covered the most important topic."    "I think so too" I relaxed a bit, deciding to hug him ". Maybe Alan isn't as incapable as we thought at first” I pointed out, with the 'I told you so' now me tone ". As police chief, he must have something on his mind."     Jake places his hands on my waist, smiling down at me.    "That is why I looked at his computer in the first place." He winks at me and I can't help it, I grab his sweatshirt, carefully pulling him towards me.     Clearly he wanted it too, because he slams me against him when we kiss.

We give each other little kisses before parting ways and I rub my nose with his, not erasing my smile.    “I will attempt to sort out our traces so far and plan our next steps.” he whispers, turning to kiss me again.    "Of course." I reply, having a hard time pulling away from him.     He separates lowering his hands and I get nervous.    "Don't be distracted, Jake" I replied, taking his hand to pull me away ", don't make me responsible for both of you."    "Right, in this case we cannot do two things at once." I hear his complain, sitting down on the chair.     Better not ask right now if it's really possible to do that because that would make us lose concentration more. I'll have it pending when this is all over.

 Just as I get back to sit on my bed, I get a text from Jessy. She's got some news! Everything seems to be getting better. Apparently, she realized that a file was missing between one thousand one hundred two and one thousand one hundred four and that in passing a pencil to see what name was marked she found... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Macie Ted Madruga

 Jessy Yes! Haven’t you mention this name before? 🤔

 Macie He's definitely got some to Hannah

 Jessy Yeah, I'd like to bet it’s do I’m sure the missing file is definitely the AMC Gremlin And Ted Madruga signed that exact file.

 Macie That’s a very good find

 Jessy 😊 He must have stolen the file Because it would have incriminated him!

 Macie But Ted’s in prison ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Jessy asks if someone stole the file for him and that's why Richy died. I’m not able to tell him my suspicions. No... I don't know what they would think if I told them. I don't think they would trust me knowing that they have been friends for years. Even if we've become friends, I don't think she would believe me because of how fond she is of Richy.

When I finish talking to Jessy, a chat adds me. An Unknown. There is no name, there are no photos. There is nothing. Just a black photo. I swallow and send a message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Macie Hello?

 Unknown [Camera_05] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 I look at the link that he gave me before giving him, what is all this about?

I give up, let's see what it is.

When I hit the link, it can't be true what I'm seeing. Hannah and Richy! In the camera! They seem to be unconscious. The place…. The place looks like they are surrounded by stones and is that wood? Where are they? But then- No… Was I wrong? What? Is Richy really innocent then? The date and time are from this moment, so it's happening! With this maybe Alan will believe me! My mind screams while I can't get out any words, it's like I've choked at this moment.    "Ja-" I try to call him, but no sound comes out.     I notice that I’m even shaking.

I announcement the group passing the link to them, as I get out of bed to approach Jake, still unable to speak. I tap his shoulder and he looks at me concerned.    "Macie, what is going on?" he asks me worried.     I hand him my phone, with the video from the surveillance camera.    “Hannah and Richy…” he says slowly.     I nod nervously and Jake looks at me. I keep breathing fast, as if everything I had done then was to lead Richy to a horrible fate. Maybe someone was spying on us?!    “Macie” I snap out of my thoughts to hear Jake now standing in front of me. Slowly, he places his hands on my shoulders ", take a deep breath, okay?"     I nod, trying to calm down. I imitate him looking into his eyes. I can't let this rule me.    "Thank you…" I reply, although my voice still sounds a little weak.    "Remember that he only wants to provoke and scare you" he tells me, totally calm ". I also got nervous when you showed it to me, but we already know what he likes to do: Torment us" I nod, lowering my gaze ". And we won't let that happen."    "Yeah... sure..."     He kisses me on the forehead, hugging me. I get a call and look at my phone. It was a group call.    "Talk to them, you need each other now." Jake caresses my cheeks carefully.     I nod again and go to bed, answering the call.    "Macie? Why don't you reply to messages?" Cleo asks me nervously. "Is everything alright?"    "Yeah, sorry, I was a little shocked, that's all."    “Macie! Richy is alive!" I see Jessy with a big smile on her face, bright "I knew he was still alive!"     I just nod looking at her with a small smile. I don't know what to say. I’m confused with everything that is happening.    "Is it a live broadcast?" Cleo asks me, curious.    “Yeah, it's a live broadcast” I reply, watching Jake put the feed on one of his laptops.    "Really? How do you know?" Jessy looks surprised.    "The date and time is on the video."    "And what is this shit?" Dan asks furiously, clenching his jaw tightly "Is he messing with us?"    "What’s wrong with them?!" Lilly exclaims worried "What did he do to them?!"     My head starts to ache with so many questions. I have to handle the situation the best I can.    "Don't worry, they're fine" I tried to calm her down. It's true. I can't get carried away by the situation.    "Macie? Can you send this to Alan?" Jessy speaks quickly, still excited "If he sees this, I bet he’s want to help us again!"    "I wanted to do that, anyway." I say, calming down now.     Jake makes an appearance connecting to the group ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Jake I saw what happened. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   "Look at the walls in the background" Thomas asks, in a voice like Jessy's, excited to see Hannah alive.    "Yes, I noticed them too." I answered, letting out a sigh. "Is that some sort of cave?"    "Maybe."    “They’re not in a normal house, that's for sure.” Cleo points out. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Jake I will try to finding information about this stream. Perhaps I will be able to find out where it is being broadcast from. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    “And you please send this to Alan, Macie." Lily reminds me.     I go to Alan's chat to send him the message, silencing the group.    "He will listen to us now, right?" I ask Jake, who is busy with the broadcast.    "It is more than enough to make you trust again, I am sure" he replies, without taking his eyes off the computer "Did he want proof? Well, we have given it to him."     He transmits his calm to me with the tone of his voice. He can no longer let himself be carried away by the rage he used to, having listened to Hannah. He has to be concentrating to find where the video is broadcast.    "Guys?" I activate the microphone when I listen to Jessy, who has stopped looking at the camera, but from her voice it seems that she is scared "There is something back there…." she whispers, and I can see her voice shake.    "What?" Cleo asks, puzzled. "What do you mean back there?"    "In the forest" she whispers again ". But it could be on the road, too.” She strains her eyes ". It's still too far away."     This is not good. It gives me a bad feeling.    "A neighbor maybe?" Lilly is starting to freak out.    “I don't know, I really can't tell…. It looks like a lamp or something."    “The road leading to our house is a dead end” Cleo begins to explain ". If this person is on the road, they’re headed for us."     We wait a bit until Jessy makes a throaty sound, like she's complaining.    I don't see the light anymore...     What is she trying to do? Are he threating them?    "That's Michael!" Lilly exclaims, increasing her fear "I’m sure! He’s coming to act on his threats!"    "Don't make everyone nervous, Lilly" I try to warn her, even though I'm the first to freak out. If he hurts someone... "Are you all still at their posts?"    "Yes" Cleo tells me "Lilly and I are in the downstairs bedroom, Thomas is in the bathroom next door, Dan is in the living room and Jessy is upstairs."    "This doesn't make any sense" Thomas starts to say, getting nervous now "Why would Michael send us a stream and then come here?"     Get us nervous. That’s what he wants to do. Let us be afraid of him, making us feel powerless is important, it makes it easy for him to attack us.    <<'I don't want to hurt you'>> How am I supposed to believe your words when you're chasing my friends too?    "There!" Jessy yells and I see that she moves a lot. "Again! It’s a lot closer than it was before!"    "Everyone stay calm" I ordered them firmly. If they see me nervous, they will be worse off.    "Showtime" I hear Dan reload the gun, I can even see him because he has the phone on his lap with the camera facing up.    "Turn off the lights!"    "We've already turned them off downstairs" Cleo says, looking out the window ". But there's a light on somewhere upstairs, isn’t there?"    "There!" Jessy yells again, "He's here! Right in front of us!"     Jessy changes the camera with a tap.

We all pay attention to her camera. And we even hear her nervous breathing. A light could be seen in the distance, although it was difficult to see who it was, but it seemed to slightly illuminate a figure. She zooms in and we can see the man who attacked Jessy and me. Challenging us Jessy switches the camera back, and I watch as she moves to hide.    "My God, my God, my God…" She puts a hand to her mouth and nose, afraid to breathe and to be heard.    "What the hell is he doing?!" “Dan is really mad.    "He wants to scare you."    "Well, he can shove it" he says, leaving the phone on his lap. "Shit! That's not enough!"    "What?"    "I can't hit it from this distance."    "Then wait."     It is better not to waste bullets and if now he shoots, we can lose the opportunity of the surprise factor.    "He turned off his lampt!" Jessy exclaims, but she doesn't focus on the camera "I can’t see him anymore!"    "He's gone?"    "Maybe..." she answers not very sure "It's so dark, he could be anywhere..."   While we're on a video call, I get a text from Dan ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dan Hey Boo If this goes wrong Then you’re gonna have to set something straight for me

 Macie EXCUSE ME?! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 I refuse, I'm not going to listen to him. Everything is going to be alright, I know it!    "I think I can see him" Thomas unfocuses his camera ". He is on the porch, not far away from me."    "Where are you?"    "In the bathroom downstairs" he begins to move ". I'm going to go out now."    "THOMAS NO!" I scream at the screen. Was he crazy or what?    "I CAN CATCH HIM UNAWARES!" He yells at me now on the screen.    "Dude, no!" Dan yells at Thomas.    "He can't see me!"    "You don't know that!" I try to make him see reason.    "I can see him too!" Cleo exclaims.    "If he turns around now and leaves, that was it!" Thomas answers, and I can see that he's nervous.    "Thomas!" Dan calls him "Seriously! I’M WARNINIG YOU!"     Thomas walks out of the call and I put my hand to my forehead. Why does he always do these things? He doesn't help save Hannah at all!    "I'll try to help." Cleo says, before leaving as well.     The next to go is Lilly. What's going on?!    “Oh fuc…” Dan grates through his teeth, also walking away.     Jessy and I are left alone on the call, surprised that everyone has left.    "They went outside!" Jessy yells. "They're gone!"    "Calm down Jessy." I try to stay calm for her. We've both had a hard time "Where are you now?"    “Up… Upstairs” she replies, looking everywhere ". In one of the rooms.” She moves away from the camera for a moment ". I can't see anything outside… Everything is quiet in the house…" She looks at the camera again, scared "Why is it so quite? Shouldn’t be able to hear something!"     "Can you keep looking out the window?" I can't think of anything else, I don't want her to go outside.    "Yes, but there's nothing, Macie, I can't see anything" she says, looking again ". I… I have to help them."    "No!" I scream terrified now "Jessy, no. that's not a good idea."    "Of course it isn’t" she gradually recovers ". But I can't keep hiding here" she starts to walk ". Macie… are you with me?"     I don't like the idea, but what can I do? She won't listen to me, Jessy doesn't want to be alone. And if she stays alone, it's worse.    “I am, Jessy” I finally answered ". I’m not leaving you."    “Okay, fine…” she sighs and flips her camera over with a flick “That's how you see the house too” She turns on the flashlight ". And so to see me..."

We stay silent as she walks down the stairs. I'm afraid to speak in case I can alert the kidnapper. I can see the table where they were sitting before and then the fireplace. The door leading to the terrace is open. There is nothing but silence in the house. The only sound is that of the fire.    "Dan?" Jessy calls.     She continues walking and goes to the stairs that went down to the fuse room.   "Cleo?"    "Where are they?” I ask quietly, concerned.   "I don't know... There doesn't seem to be any here-" As Jessy turns around, looking at the door, she meets the man without a face.    Jessy stumbles out of fear and I freak out of worry.    "JESSY GET UP!" I scream scared.    "What's up Macie?!" Jake walks over to me and we look at the screen together “Shit!"    "Jessy!"     It is then that we hear a shot and the mystery man recoils from the impact.     Jessy focuses on the sound. It was Dan with the gun and he fired again, sending the man without a face running. As soon as Jessy hangs up, I bursts into tears hugging Jake, relieved that Jessy is okay. He strokes my hair lovingly, kissing the top of my head to ease the fear in my body.    “Is alright” he tells me in a calm voice ". She is safe, Dan has saved her."    "I've been scared!" I exclaim, powerless for not having been able to do anything but cry "I couldn't- I couldn't do anything! I couldn't help her except watching!"     I hug Jake tighter. I feel like I'm hurting him from the way I squeeze my hands, but he doesn't complain.    "I understand you... But it is not your fault." He raises my head to see him ". It is not your fault, okay?"     But yes it is. Because he knew that I was going to be in that house. I said it. And if he was looking for me and at the moment, he took the opportunity to go for Jessy?

 If it weren't for me, maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

*Jake POV*

 As I deal with the security camera to track it down, I let Macie sit on my lap to calm down, talking on the phone with the group to check on Jessica and Dan.

 And again. Over and over again he does not stop torturing her in this disgusting way and I can only sit here in front of a computer without being able to do anything to stop all this that is happening and end all of this. I would only do it for her. No... It does not occupy anything else in my mind that Macie stops suffering with everything that is happening, seeing how he go to her for her friends because he knows that he can hurt her psychologically through them. I hear her gasp in breath and I kiss her forehead before looking back at the screen. Macie snuggles closer, resting her head on my body.

 She should not be going through that… I cannot keep risking someone I love like this. It is over.    “Dan thinks it was you.” she whispers, without much encouragement.    "It is okay, I am used to being doubted by now" I tell her with a small laugh ". As long as you know that I am here by your side, which is enough for me so that only you trust me."     I hear her laugh, even though she hardly seems to want to.    "It will always be like this, right?"    "Like this how?" I ask doubtfully.    "Everyone tell me how I should think about you" I look down and see her look up too. She does not have a good face... ", that I’m going to have to hear horrible things, rumors about how you are..."     I sigh and stop looking for the camera for a moment, to focus on those brown eyes that look at me sadly and tiredly. I caress her face gently, and she leans into my hand, closing her eyes, letting out a sigh.    "Your opinion is much more important than what the whole world says about me" I whispers, and she looks me square in the eye "if I can live with it, everything else does not matter to me."     She smiles and nods slowly. I move closer to hers lips and kiss hers. She corresponds to me by placing her hand on my face, caressing me lovingly.    “I will always defend you, Jake” she whispers close to my lips "It doesn't matter what it is about, I'll always be by your side” she runs her fingers over my lips, tickling me with the delicacy that treats them ". If the whole world turns its back on you, I will offer you my hand."     I smile when I hear her words, which make me feel warm.

 Macie is everything good I ever thought I would have in this life. And I will never let this thing we have end.

Chapter 43

[kaesaaurelia]

your turn with the brain cell

For @whumptober day 31, using the prompt "setbacks."

This is the last installment of this fic.

Continued from Day 4, wherein Aziraphale receives an unwanted gift of a memory-wiped angel Crowley who is collared and chained and cheerfully obedient, and a tiny bit of hope that the Crowley he knows still exists somewhere in that angel, Day 7, wherein Aziraphale asked Crowley provocative questions, and failed to get the answers he wanted, Day 17, wherein Crowley began to become physically affectionate, and Aziraphale couldn’t handle that, Day 21, wherein Aziraphale decided he couldn’t keep going with this, and came up with a dangerous plan, and Day 24, when Crowley suddenly found himself in possession of all his wits, and a happy, obedient, wrong version of Aziraphale, and was exasperated.

Content note for explicit discussion of sex, but only in the crossed-out portions, so it's fine, right?

I know you're going to be all upset about being back, but I just couldn't get access to the documents I needed with you all bubble-brained. I've enclosed all my notes and my current plan. Also, fair warning, I think the Metatron noticed something the first time you gave me all the responsibility for everything. I've chosen to do it while his schedule's busy, I think, but it's difficult to check when you're not there and I'm not supposed to be there, and I don't know exactly what he's noticing since no alarms seem to go off.

Also. I don't know what you meant by that 'you can do whatever you like with me' thing, but please don't be if you're going to be angry you were all over me and I made a guess about what exactly you meant by that, and I might have been too hasty. I know it's inexcusable if If you wanted to ditch me here I wouldn't blame you. But if you're willing to work with me I'll help, even if you're furious. I care a great deal for I'm not getting you any more books, though.

--

Good heavens lord Really, Crowley, what did you think I might've meant? I've no complaints whatsoever -- not with your behavior, anyway. I do wish I had more than fuzzy memories of In fact, I would appreciate if you hadn't kept turning the other me down on my account after that first time. Until I read your letter I assumed I wasn't very Of course, if you're not interested, that's one thing, but it seemed to frustrate you, and I know it frustrated other-me.

I wasn't able to get direct copies of the documents but I do hope you can read my notes, they're in shorthand. Also took the trouble of transcribing some of the things before and after in the records, they looked related, but then that officious fellow who's in charge of the scriveners came by and wanted to be Helpful so I had to make my excuses and flee. Noted down the locations and numbers I could recall of other things that looked useful, but Uriel's been on me for neglecting my duties so I haven't been able to get at them. Frankly, I think I do a better job when I'm not in, as it were, and I think we're going to need to hurry up with this, so I'm handing the reins back to you.

You were right about the Metatron being alerted, by the way, but I worked it out! He gave me a very nice pen when I started out, and, as the humans would say, it's bugged. But not for audio, it's got some sort of miracle sensor. Have enclosed it in a miracle-proof seal and I try to remember to feed it bits and pieces of miracle every time I do something innocuous, but I did a few experiments and I think it's been successfully secured. It's in the top drawer on the left, it's the white one with gold filigree, because of course it is.

Oh, and regarding the book situation, I don't think you understand. Voyage of the Dawn Treader is the best one! Please do kindly leave out The Last Battle, nobody likes it. Well, probably the Metatron does.

--

What part of "I'm not getting you more books" was I not clear about? I just happened to stumble across that Dawn Treader one the last time I had you go on a "fact-finding mission" to Earth but that's it. Also, isn't this the fellow who got a hold of all that correspondence from Hell? It was a great scandal Down There, Dagon got internal stoats for two months over it. Didn't think you'd enjoy novels by such a noted demonologist.

Thanks for the heads up about the pen, I think you were right. Haven't heard anything from him this last time, and I also did some fairly major workings on my own, you'll see what I mean in the notes. I've been asking you to feed it the decoy crumbs of miracles, since I don't know if there's any difference between our miracles anymore.

I think I've got a plan, but we're going to have to distract Michael and get her out of her office for, oh, probably an hour or so, depending. Maybe two. Can you pick locks? The human way, I mean. I'm a bit rusty on it myself. I've outlined the plan in my notes, let me know what you think of it.

On your request regarding things I am allowed to do with you, I hope I've been thanks for clarifying. Also, you don't need to be such a bloody gentleman about that sort of thing when Stupid Me gets all clingy. Just push me away or go with it, I thought it would be clear I was all right with that given what I'd done with you. Where did you get so good at giving head, anyway?

Let me know what you think about the plan.

--

C.S. Lewis was not a demonologist!

I like the plan. I've made some adjustments re: timing. Had a long meeting with Michael about battle strategies so I could study the case, and I don't think we need to pick the lock, one of us could just take the hinges on the top off with a screwdriver. I think it'd be easiest if you stood on a chair and did it, I'd need a stepladder otherwise, so I think you should be in charge for this.

I've drawn up extra copies of the documentation so if we need to switch off in a hurry we can do that, and I think I've got a way to get Michael out of her office for three hours at least, because that fellow who supervises the scriveners has Ideas he would like to share with her, and good gracious, he can talk forever and say almost nothing. I'm ready to set everything into action as soon as you sign off on the plan; once Michael's out of the office I'll sign things back over to you, and then we can get out of here. Does that sound good?

Regarding... liberties to be taken with our respective corporations, I also appreciated your clarification a great deal.

--

I think all that bending me over your desk and fucking me really clarified how much you appreciated the clarification, but I'm gonna need more clarification of the clarification because

Good thought about the screwdriver; I swiped one from maintenance, it's in my inside jacket pocket if you need it for anything, but try to remember to put it back before we go through with things.

I'm ready if you are. I expect to be in Michael's office next time I know what the hell is going on. I love Hope this works.

--

It's all on you, my dearest. Good luck.

--

There were alarms, and they were very noisy, and they were in Michael's office, and Aziraphale did not feel that any of this was how things were supposed to be. He watched Crowley for a bit; he seemed to be struggling with a large sword, trying to cut the chain that linked the two of them. On the wall was a clear plastic case that had been partially unscrewed, where, presumably, the sword had been hanging for millennia.

"I don't know if we're supposed to be doing this?" ventured Aziraphale, wringing his hands.

"Oh, we definitely are," said Crowley. "God told me to do it."

"Oh!" said Aziraphale. "Well. That's all right, then." He didn't much like the sirens but if Crowley said something was true you could rely on it. Crowley had never lied once. He probably ought to get out of the way, though, and he patted himself down for the book he'd been reading so he could do that more effectively. It had been very exciting. There'd been a sailing ship and a mouse with a sword, and -- "Oh dear, I think I left one of my books in your office. My office, I mean," he corrected, because Crowley told him he should always call it his office, even though he was sure it was meant to be the Supreme Archangel's office.

Crowley sighed, not looking up from his trouble with the chain and the sword. "I told you to gather those up," he said. He stepped on the blade of the sword, but it just flipped flat.

"Yes, but you said I could keep out the one I was reading, and I'm reading it, and --"

"Never mind that, angel, just -- could you stand over there?" said Crowley, "and -- and think about that awful collar?"

"Oh," said Aziraphale, stepping away to stand in the indicated corner. "I'm sorry. Have I done something wrong?" He hoped he hadn't. Crowley was so nice, and he was clearly having a bad day.

Crowley looked at him and sighed. "No, angel, I just need this chain to go taut, you're doing everything right. Hang on..." He raised the sword above his head and brought it down hard, and the chain shattered and sublimated into the air, and everything came back to Aziraphale all at once, and he staggered a bit.

"Fucking finally," said Crowley. "Aziraphale? Are you --"

"Yes, I am," said Aziraphale, thrilled beyond description to be looking at Crowley again -- his Crowley, the real Crowley, Crowley who was good for drunken conversations about dolphins and awkward questions about the nature of evil and, as it turned out, actual heist planning, as unlikely as that had seemed. "Oh, you did it!"

Crowley looked away. "We did it, I was just, all I did was --"

Aziraphale grabbed his tie and pulled him into an impulsive kiss. When Aziraphale released him, Crowley looked like he did not know what had just happened. Well. Served him right, Aziraphale decided.

"Right." Crowley shook his head. "Anyway. You. Er. You take the sword, you know how to use it." He pressed Michael's sword into one of Aziraphale's hands, then grabbed the other one, and hurried toward the door. "Come on!"

They ran through the half-empty corridors of Heaven with wild abandon. Crowley, laughing like a maniac, nearly collided with three angels carrying stacks of paperwork and ran into a fourth on the way to the lifts. Aziraphale hurried to keep up, flailing a bit as he clung to the stolen sword, but if anyone looked askance at them he made it very clear he was going to use it on anyone who tried anything with him. The lift doors closed just in time for them to see Michael run out of the archives, look around wildly, and spot them.

"Well," said Crowley, "she's not going to be having a very good day. Or week. Or eon."

"Good," said Aziraphale. The serene downward motion of the lift felt bizarre after their giddy run through Heaven.

"About, um. When you..." Crowley said.

Aziraphale put the sword safely away into a different layer of reality. "When I what?" Crowley's expression was so serious.

"It's just." Crowley swallowed, and tried to say something, and gave up, and then grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him, and Aziraphale kissed back, pushing Crowley back into the wall of the lift with one hand flat on his chest, parting his lips for Crowley's tongue. It was a good kiss, and thrilling, and much better than the ones he'd had with Not Crowley.

The lift opened, and they parted reluctantly, hurrying to where they'd left their getaway car. It wasn't the Bentley -- Aziraphale had insisted it would be too recognizable, lovely as it was. But he'd let Crowley pick a modern car, so it was a sleek silver Aston Martin.

"Still a bit upset with you about the whole... redemption thing," said Crowley, holding the door for him.

Aziraphale sighed. "I think that's fair."

Crowley hurried around the car and got into the driver's seat. "But, you know, I could probably see my way to forgiving you," he said, pulling the door shut. He pulled Aziraphale in for another, much more heated kiss, and suddenly Aziraphale decided that this late model Aston Martin had, to its surprise, a bench seat with no glovebox in the front, just like 1926 Bentleys did, so it was very easy, actually, for Crowley to pull him into his lap, and very easy for Aziraphale to put his arms around Crowley.

"Oh? Do you really think you could?" Aziraphale asked, as Crowley kissed down his jaw.

"Mm. Maybe. Eventually," Crowley muttered against his neck. "Could see my way to it. S'pose we've got to get away with this first, though." He began to loosen Aziraphale's bowtie.

Over Crowley's shoulder, as Crowley was cupping his arse with almost proprietary interest, Aziraphale saw three or four people in the beiges and whites of Heaven run past frantically. "I think we had better get out of here first, my dear," he said, reluctantly pulling himself out of Crowley's embrace. "But I'm happy to give you my very best apology as soon as we're somewhere safer."

Crowley grinned at him. "I'll certainly consider it," he said, starting the car, "but it might take a few tries before I'm willing to accept."

As the car pulled out, Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley's knee. "And I'm willing to try as many times as it takes."

[heretic-saint-taliesin]

[Communications commence, Boris sounds like he didn’t sleep well, his voice is sore_] 

Day Four, salvage ship The Wretched. Flight Engineer Boris reporting. My personal monitor says I slept ten hours. I feel like I just let myself get hit by a train_

Maybe I should take it easy today_

Yesterday’s encounter really rattled me and I can’t stop thinking about it. Even if I’ve not been up to the comms room again since I killed the audio, that thing is still in my head. Fucking hate it but I can’t stop hearing its voice whispering through the radios and echoing around me. It spoke to me, directly. It’s alive and sentient. Maybe that’s not the only thing it can do too. I don’t know - we were too busy being hunted down and killed to know if it had intelligence or sentience that matched ours_ 

[Pause_]

I remember it made the lights flicker. When I was hiding. In hindsight I sound like a fucking coward for hiding in a sealed storage container but it’s what’s kept me fucking alive. I had the lights on low power to not attract attention - but even with them barely on when that thing came by_

[A heavy breath and the sound of Boris sitting upright_]

It definitely made them flicker. Not in the “stamping about so heavy the lights shake” kind of flickering way either. Like it made the power itself fluctuate. I just thought it was an electricity flare from all the systems struggling but… Now I’m not so sure. I’m not sure I trust anything anymore and I don’t think I can write anything off as just the ship dying either_

[Boris huffs_]

I hate that I can’t trust anything anymore_

[Radio Communications go silent for some time, they are completely switched off with no background noises heard_]

[Radio communications suddenly continue, Boris sounds noticeably excited_]

Holy shit holy shit! I think I got rid of it! At least for a bit! It’s something - it’s fucking anything at this point! Go play fetch for a few light years motherfucker!_ 

[His breathing is excited and he laughs to himself, though it sounds like he may also be trying not to cry with his burst of genuine happiness_]

Holy fucking hell at least I know one way to get it off my tail. I heard noises and looked through my telescope systems earlier. Thought the worst after everything. Turns out the jettisoned LANDING-04 finally floated into that thing’s sphere of interest and it was scuttling all over it. Makes me fucking glad I didn’t try my luck with it_

[Boris sighs and the recorder picks up the sound of him wiping tears away_]

It can play with that for a few hours - might even be long enough for it to see the habitat module it detached before and try its luck there too. I don’t know if it’s really sensible to just keep jettisoning stuff at it but… But this has worked for a bit at least! Maybe it’ll buy me enough time for some uninterrupted, nightmare free sleep. Maybe_

I wonder if this is how a hamster feels in its cage watching humans poke their fingers at the bars_

Flight Engineer Boris Strugatsky Signing off_