#jon: YOU MADE OUT WITH THE DISTORTION????

[akaikali]

here have this *throws 12k words of jon and gerry being friends and gerry talking about the love his life michael while jon figures out how to break the news that michael is dead*

or in other words: i rewrote ep 111 of tma. well, more like i added 12,000 words to it

[paradiseprincesss]

forever, not maybe | jonathan crane

hello hello! sorry i haven't been posting as much i've been busyyy and a little burnt out if i'm being honestttt but enough about me. when i say "catwoman mask" in this fic - i was thinking of the lace one ariana grande wore for tbim music video lol anyway...i had "off to the races" on repeat while writing this <3

summary: you have a secret life as catwoman that you've been keeping away from your boyfriend, jonathan crane. however, it seems he has a secret life of his own, too...

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, choking, kissing, swearing, MDNI 18+ ONLY

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

“i’m working late tonight,” jonathan said over the phone with a sigh.

“again?” you asked your boyfriend, trying to feign the sadness in your voice.

jonathan had been working late night shifts at the asylum for the last few months; so often that you swore he saw his patients more than he did you. naturally, you missed him. all you wanted was to be in his arms again, laid up in bed as he held you and told you how much he loved you.

but the extra time away from him gave you more time for your…hobbies.

of course you felt guilty lying to your boyfriend about your whereabouts or what you were doing — but you couldn’t risk him finding out about you being catwoman.

every time you told him you were going to sleep, you’d really be getting ready to commit a heist, or worse, find batman and reign chaos in the city just to spite him. you’d always tell jonathan the reason you were so tired all the time was because you were having trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there — but alas, it was because you were out on crime sprees until five in the morning.

“i’m sorry, darling. i wish i could be at home with you right now,” jonathan said softly, his voice tinged with guilt.

“i know, jon. it’s okay — i think i'm gonna go to bed now. it’s late,” you replied, trying to sound exhausted as you yawned. “see you in the morning, baby.”

“see you then, darling,” jonathan said softly, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you sighed, hanging up the phone.

as soon as you hung up the phone, you jumped out of bed and rushed to put on your catsuit. after you threw on your fitted outfit along with the matching mask, you were sneaking out your window in mere seconds, creeping off into the dark, crime-filled city that was gotham.

tonight, you were on the prowl for a certain villain though — the scarecrow.

the two of you had had a mutual distaste for each other. he’d once told you that you were “too morally ambiguous,” as sometimes you’d be robbing banks and committing heists, whereas other times you’d aid batman in the saving of gotham city. you thought he was full of shit, and you made sure to remind him that his plan to poison the entirety of gotham city with his fear toxin would never work every chance you got. 

the two of you had a strange dynamic — always messing with one another's plans and such, but last week, things seemed to have changed between you and him. 

it all started when he came to pay you a visit after you’d robbed two men at gunpoint, stealing their cards and some cash out of pure boredom. you heard footsteps behind you as you were counting stacks of cash, and once you glanced back, you saw the scarecrow himself approaching you in the quiet parkade you stood in.

the two of you never stopped to talk very much, as usually each interaction lasted no more than a few minutes, but tonight, neither of you were in a rush to leave. the scarecrow looked at you through the eye holes of his burlap mask, and for a moment, you felt oddly comforted by his presence. 

“catwoman,” he said, looking down at the cash in your hands, “we meet again.” 

“we meet all the time,” you retaliated, hearing his distorted voice through his mask. 

“we do, yes,” he replied casually, “but i’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you alone like this.” 

“that’s because you’re always interrupting me when i'm busy,” you teased, looking up at him with a small smile. 

you noticed he stopped talking to look closely at you, almost as if he was analyzing you. picking you apart detail by detail, his blue eyes trailing over every single inch of you. his eyes darted over the lace covering your eyes before he narrowed them, inhaling sharply. 

“...has anyone told you that you have a pretty smile?” he asked quietly, and you almost had to get him to repeat himself out of disbelief. 

“did i hear you correctly?” you asked, attempting to clarify what exactly he was trying to get at. “did you just compliment me?”

“it would appear that way,” he said with amusement.

you stood there staring at him for a few seconds, unsure of what to say before you scoffed, waving his compliment off.

“i have a boyfriend,” you huffed.

“a boyfriend?” he teased, his blue eyes widening under his mask. “is that so?”

you hummed in agreement, flipping through the dollar bills in your hands. “i love him. a lot.”

“i see,” he said once more, “i forgot to mention that i saw you last week, by the way.” 

“did you?” you asked nonchalantly. 

“sneaking out of your apartment window at midnight — i wonder if your boyfriend knows what you do when he’s not home.” he teased, causing you to stop what you were doing as your heart raced.

“you know where i live?” you tilted your head to the side to emphasize your confusion, causing him to chuckle softly.

“that i do,” he shrugged, “and dare i say, you really are quite the beauty when you don’t have this lacy little mask covering your face.” 

he gestured to your mask, causing you to roll your eyes which were partially hidden by the lace. “i told you i have a boyfriend,” you said harshly. 

“i can’t help but wonder what he would think if he saw you like this — stealing from the innocent people of gotham city.” you could almost hear him smirking through his mask by the way he talked. “hm?” 

“well — i don’t plan on telling him,” you sneered, causing the scarecrow to chuckle.

“so feisty,” he purred. “tell me about this ‘boyfriend’ of yours.” 

you crossed your arms, still holding the cash in your hand as you let out an annoyed sigh. “he’s a doctor,” you said, not-so-subtly bragging, “and…as much as i wish i could tell him about what i do, i don’t think he’d approve.”

he nodded, taking in everything you were saying. 

“but you don’t need to know the intimate details of my love life — quit asking.” you said, shaking your head as you shook the thought of jonathan out of your mind for the time being.

the scarecrow looked at you with intrigue, taking a step closer to you. as you took in all the details of his suit, you couldn’t help but notice how oddly familiar it looked — you’d sworn that you had seen this exact suit before. 

“you must really love him, don’t you?” he asked casually with a shrug. “well, maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.” 

“i highly doubt that,” you sighed, realizing it was time to head home since jonathan would be back soon. “i have to go.” 

he nodded, looking at you with those strikingly blue eyes before turning around and disappearing into the shadows. you stood there for a few moments quietly, struggling to understand why he felt so familiar yet so distant to you at the same time — it almost felt like you’d known him for ages. 

once you got home, you quietly reached for your front door before realizing it was locked. you’d made your way out tonight through the window, but when you looked up at it, you realized that there was no way you would be able to climb that high and get through it from the outside. 

“need some assistance?” a familiar voice called from the bottom of your porch stairs. once you quickly turned around in a panic, you saw a certain scarecrow peering up at you.

“what are you doing here?” you asked in a hushed whisper. “my boyfriend is going to see you. he’s supposed to be home from work any second!” 

“relax,” he commented, making his way up the porch stairs. reaching into his suit pocket, he pulls out a shiny piece of metal — a key. “i just want to help you, is that so wrong?” 

as he unlocked the front door and swung it open, you harshly grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you. 

“and why do you have a key to my boyfriend's house?” you asked with irritation. 

“because,” he said, his voice no longer distorted, “i live here.”

your grip remained on his wrist as he spoke softly to you, and your eyes met with his brilliantly blue ones — you only knew one person who had eyes that striking. you almost felt silly for not realizing sooner, but to be fair, he’d only come to realize who you really were just last week. 

it all made sense now  — the “late” shifts at arkham, the way he’d sometimes come home bruised and bloodied (which he said was because of his “violent” patients), and the way he’d always avoided talking about work with you every time you’d asked.

he shut the door behind the both of you as you gently let go of his wrist, looking at him in awe as he turned back around to face you. you still had your catwoman mask on, and he was still wearing his scarecrow one. you stared at him in silence, almost at a loss for words before you finally spoke up quietly, your eyes still locked with his blue ones. 

“you’re…” you trailed off, reaching up to tug at his mask, wanting nothing more than to take it off. “you’re the scarecrow…”

“and you’re catwoman,” he teased as your fingers ghosted the edge of his mask.

“shut up,” you blushed, “and take this off.” 

you gestured to his mask, but he shook his head as he stared at you through the eye holes. “i have an idea,” he suggested, “why don’t you make your way to the bedroom and wait for me, if you’re not too tired.“

“you cannot possibly be suggesting what i think you’re suggesting—”

“i am,” he said lowly. “...if you want to.”

without another word, you bit your lip and nodded, making your way to your shared bedroom excitedly. it was almost thrilling, the way he was commanding you and telling you to behave. it’s not that jonathan wasn’t bossy during sex (or in general if we’re really being honest here), but the added excitement of knowing your smart, calm, doctor boyfriend had a not-so-innocent side made it so much better.  

you sat obediently on the edge of the bed waiting for him. he eventually joined you, still in his scarecrow mask and suit, eyeing you down. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t make it clear,” he stated, “but i wanted you waiting with nothing on.” 

“but you’re—“ you tried to protest, as he was still fully clothed. 

“be quiet,” he growled, grabbing you by the throat, “unless you want a taste of my fear toxin, hm?” 

you swallowed, nodding as the grip around your neck made you dizzy, and you did as you were told to do. he watched you closely, looking at you through those eerie eye holes of his mask as you undressed hastily.

“slower,” he said, “give me a little show, won’t you sweetheart?”

you almost choked on your words when he spoke — you were enjoying it, though. something about your usually calm, collected, gentle boyfriend acting like this was triggering something primal in you. 

as you stripped down into nothing but your bra and underwear — which were matching, by the way — his pupils went wide at the sight. you sat back on the bed in your lacy undergarments, and he took a few steps closer, not yet getting on the bed with you.

“you really are perfect, you know?” he spoke softly, even though he looked rather intimidating, but it had you rubbing your thighs together.

“light of my life,” you breathed. “that’s what you are.” 

“is that right, my darling?” he asked, his voice giving away that although he was acting tough and composed — he was crumbling because of you. “are you forever mine?”

“forever yours,” you replied with no hesitation. 

jonathan made his way over to you, grabbing your face gently as he stood at the edge of the bed.

“i love you,” you whispered, and his grip on your face softened. 

“darling,” he rasped, “lay back on the bed for me.” 

you do as you’re told, laying back on the bed as he joins you, his hands immediately snaking behind your back to unclasp your lacy bra. 

“angelic,” he breathed, speaking softly. “how are you real?” 

his last words were so quiet, you barely heard him through the burlap mask covering his head. you were sprawled out on the bed, back resting on the pillows as his hands reached to tweak your nipples softly, causing you to moan quietly. he was hovering above you, propped up on his arms and studying your every reaction as he took in the way your body responded to his touch. 

suddenly, his hand brushed up against the lace of your panties, teasingly dragging his fingers across your skin. you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips slightly out of habit. “please,” you whispered, “touch me — scarecrow.”

as the words left your mouth, he was tearing your underwear clean off of you, causing you to get incredibly turned on — as if you weren’t soaking through your panties already. 

jonathan brushed his fingers against your sticky folds before slowly inserting one of his fingers into your tight hole, causing you to let out a vulgar moan as he toyed with your cunt. 

he continued to stare down at you as your back was pressed into the pillows, giving him a perfect view of your face as he watched from above. you let out a mewl as he started to pump a single digit in and out of your dripping cunt, your cheeks flushed a pretty pink shade.

“m-mm, oh my god—!” you moaned, feeling him curl his finger in a way that made your back arch. he let out a low hum before inserting a second digit, causing you to gasp. 

“jon,” you breathed, “f-fuck, yes—“

“i know, darling,” he cooed, watching you as he pumped two digits in and out of your tight, warm hole. “it’s a lot for your tight little cunt to take. i know, but don’t worry — i'll get you nice and stretched out before i bury my cock inside of you.” 

his filthy words caused you to tighten up around his fingers, making him let out a low chuckle from behind his burlap mask. “someone likes it dirty, hm?” he teased, and you let out a breathless moan. 

“c-close,” you managed to choke out. 

“who owns you?” he asked, fucking you with his fingers as he rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. 

“you!” you whimpered, “fuck, you do—“

your release hit you, hard and fast, as you clenched around his fingers. your vision was clouded with stars, pure ecstasy running through your veins. jonathan watched you like a predator watches its prey, his eyes running all over your body as he studied you through the eyeholes of his mask. 

you lay on the bed breathless, your cheeks flushed still, as he looked down at you sprawled out against the soft pillows. you could hear him breathing heavily from behind his mask — it almost gave him a power trip to see you like this; fucked out and submissive to him as he was dressed up as scarecrow. 

you let out a huff, closing your eyes for just one moment before they shot open again to the sound of his belt being unbuckled. you rubbed your thighs together and whined softly, causing jonathan to let out a low groan as his cock sprung free against his stomach, hitting the white button down shirt he wore.

he gave himself a few strokes before lining himself up with your dripping entrance. 

“how badly do you want it, baby?” he teased, rubbing his cock up against your slit slowly. 

“so bad,” you whined desperately, “please, jonathan—”

“try again.” 

“fuck, please! please, scarecrow…” you begged, hoping you’d get what you were wanting after fixing your mistake. 

it seemed to work because before you could whine anymore, you were letting out a filthy moan as he rammed himself into you, breaching your tight hole. even though you’d just taken his fingers, you hadn’t been able to fuck him for a few weeks, due to work and all — so you were taking a little longer than usual to adjust to his size. 

“m-my god, s-slow down—” you breathlessly gasped, feeling his cock pounding your cunt mercilessly as he set a fast pace.

“you can take it,” he assured you, still fucking you harshly as his hands come to grip at your throat. “keep squeezing my cock. fuck — like that.” 

you could feel him stretch out your drooling hole as you mewled, unable to form any proper sentences or get any real words out from the way he was fucking you. jonathan kept a firm vice around your neck, causing you to struggle for air slightly as his normally bright blue eyes turned about fifty shades darker. 

you didn’t know what was turning you on more — the fact that he was still dressed as scarecrow, mask and all, or how roughly he was drilling into your sopping cunt right now. 

“o-oh my god—” you whined, looking up at him breathlessly as he continued to squeeze the sides of your neck. “i-i can’t…”

jonathan was for sure having an ego trip right now — the way you were completely at his mercy as his cock pounded against your cervix, creating the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. the way you looked at him like he was your entire world — because he was — even while he was fucking you stupid. just everything about you had jonathan tripping out on ecstasy, pleasure, and dare i say love?

“what is it, my darling?” he cooed mockingly, cutting off your air supply once more with a harsh squeeze to your neck while he was balls deep in your cunt. “use your words, darling — you can do it.”

“c-can’t breathe,” you managed to rasp, your hands clawing at his, “let— go—”

satisfied with your begging, jonathan let go of your throat and placed his hands harshly onto your hips. his fingers dug into your sides as he continued to plow your pussy with no intention of stopping until you were ruined.

he could see the fear in your eyes — even if it was mixed with arousal — and it brought him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. you, along with jonathan, were close to coming undone as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as pleasure consumed you.

“come,” he growled, “show me who owns this tight fucking cunt.” 

you let out a choked moan as he rammed his cock into you so deeply that you stopped breathing momentarily, before letting yourself tip over the edge. your release winded you, causing you to scream his name so loud that your neighbours would definitely know who was fucking you right. 

“jonathan! f-fuck!” you squeaked out, creaming on his thick cock. 

“scream my fucking name,” he said lowly, “that’s right — god, you feel so good.” 

he let out a low groan as he felt your walls tighten up around him, and he watched your every move as your orgasm washed over you. you looked so beautifully fucked out and mindless with every fleeting moment — it was perfection. 

it didn’t take long for jonathan to come after seeing you like this for him, and he let out a low groan, giving you a few more harsh, deep thrusts before filling you up completely with his sticky cum. he looked down at you quietly as he propped himself up above you on his arms one more, taking off his burlap mask and tossing it to the side. 

you gave your boyfriend a soft smile, letting out a huff of air as you rested your head on the satin pillows behind you.

“wow…” you said, trailing off into a soft chuckle. 

“i love seeing you all ruined for me,” he told you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you’re something else, you know that?”

he helped you get cleaned up afterwards, making sure to be extremely gentle and caring towards you despite almost breaking you in two just minutes prior. after he had you tucked into bed, he placed a kiss on the top of your head as you snuggled into the covers.

“i’m going to go shower,” he said casually, “go to bed, sweetheart. you’ve had a long night.”

“mm,” you mumbled sleepily, “come to bed afterwards.”

“i will,” he assured you, placing one more kiss on your head, and another softly on your lips. “...i love you.” 

“i love you too,” you said softly, yawning as you found comfort in the sheets. “goodnight, scarecrow.” 

your sleepy words caused him to let out a quiet chuckle as he admired you. the light from the moon illuminated your face dimly as it casted down on you through the bedroom window. 

jonathan sighed to himself happily. 

you may have been catwoman to the outside world — sneaky and conniving — but to jonathan, you were just…you. those so-called claws of yours were nowhere to be seen as you slept peacefully in your shared bed, dozing off under the moonlight as you waited for him to come back to bed with you. 

“goodnight, sweetheart,” he said softly.

but you were already fast asleep — dreaming of him like always.

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[moonsanoverthinker]

Just some of my own TMA headcanons (I’m probably just gonna keep adding to the list on occasion or maybe make another list, who knows) - Edit I made another list which is a little more chaotic I won’t lie

Also I’m interested if people have any of their own that they’d want to add because I love reading other people’s x

There will probably be spoilers in this list but I’ll try to keep it broad :) x

Tim always wears short sleeves regardless of the weather

On the opposite Sasha always got a cardigan, she might not be wearing it but it’s stashed somewhere

Jon probably bit someone as a child

Martin had a folder on his work computer with pictures of cows in it

Sasha used to keep a picture of the four of them in her desk - Not Sasha got rid of it

Distortion Helen uses her hands a lot when she speaks

Elias irons his ties and then organises them by colour (They’re all the same colour but he claims the shades are different)

Martin and Jon used to play card games but Jon stopped once he realised he always knew what Martins cards were

Tim would wear those socks with the days of the week on them but would make a point of wearing the wrong socks on the wrong days just to annoy Jon

Martin likes to collect pin badges

Sasha’s definitely thrown a pen at Tim - She threatens to throw one at Martin but never would

Tim paints his nails on occasion and convinced Martin to do it a couple times, who in turn convinced Jon to do it

Specifically series 1 Jon had Martin for secret Santa and he have him a mug with a cow on it - Jon denied it every time he was asked

Martins the better baker but Jons the better cook -

Jon will tell everyone in the kitchen to get out if he’s cooking

Martin had a nightlight while sleeping at the institute and never told anyone but Jon found it once and replaced the batteries just in case they were close to running out

Distortion Helen seems like the kind of avatar to have a load of bracelets but those ones that make noise when someone moves their arm

Edit: I just wanted to say that I’m genuinely overwhelmed by the response to this because this is first time I’ve made a post like this of my own and people have been very lovely about it all and yeah this just my little soppy thank you for it xx

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 10

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Jon let’s you go on a trip with him, then can’t control his weird, freaky sex fantasies lmaoo.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, consensual sex, attempted sex trafficking?? (but like not really?), fear play (but consensual this time), actually everything’s consensual this time lol, masturbation, voyeurism, bondage, degradation, verbal humiliation, praise.

Words | 4.2k

Notes | Kinky smut ahead! Beware😼 I really played into the “he hates everyone but you” trope in this chapter and I’m so here for it.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 9

“I’m going out to meet someone about something, I shouldn’t be gone long.” 

“Oh… okay. Can I come?” He examined you and after a while you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze as you backtracked. “I- I don’t have to… I just,”

“Fine.” He suddenly said, making your face light up. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Stop wasting time and get dressed or we’ll be late.”

“Sorry.” You hurried to change into your stolen clothes, looking a little odd next to him in a full suit. He instructed you to bring the wristband he gave you along with the gas mask and then you were leaving, walking along the docks closer to the water now. When he put his mask on, you did the same, not sure what to expect. 

“No talking.” He said quietly when a few guys were in your eyeline. You nodded in response, following him until he stopped in front of the men. 

“Didn’t know Scarecrow had a partner.” A man snickered. 

“Yeah, who’s your pet?” 

“Enough. Do you have what I need or not?” He snapped, voiced distorted by the modulator in the mask. 

“We got it. But I think we might want a different form of payment now.” The man in front smirked, the other men muttering agreements. 

“We had a deal.” 

“Yeah well, our terms changed.” He shrugged, eyeing you with a grin that made your stomach twist. 

“You’ll give me what I want and in exchange, you don’t want money, you want her?” He confirmed, making you stiffen. He wouldn’t… Would he?

“Yep. With a pretty thing like her, we’ll make plenty more than what you’re willing to give.” 

“Fine. We have a deal.” You turned to him with wide eyes, silently asking what the fuck he was doing, but he didn’t even glance at you. The main guy motioned to someone behind him who walked away to grab something. 

“C'mere, sweetheart. I wanna get a good look at you.” He sneered and your heart dropped to your stomach. Was he really going to do this?

“You can have her after I receive what I paid for.” He said sternly and as if on cue, the man returned holding a large briefcase. When the leader gestured, he handed it to the man by your side. He grabbed your arm and walked you closer to the men, making your heart rate and breathing speed up. Once he was in front of them, he pushed you forward and you landed against the leader with a startled grunt. 

“We’re gonna have some fun with you before we start selling you, don’t worry.” He smirked, making your blood run cold. Hands were running over your body as all of the men focused on you. When someone reached for the mask, a cloud of his toxin was suddenly surrounding you, making the men cough as they staggered back. A hand grabbing your arm made you jump and you turned, finding Jon pulling you away from them as they started screaming. 

You waited until you were back inside and he set the briefcase on the desk before saying anything. Starting with a shove, you ripped the gas mask off, letting it fall to the floor, then pushed him again, making him stagger back. 

“You— dick!” When you tried to push him again, his hands circled your wrists in a bruising grip. 

“Stop.” He warned, the modulator making him sound even more intimidating. “You’re mine.” He explained firmly. 

“That’s supposed to automatically make me assume that you’re not going to do what you literally said you would do?” You hissed, voice shaking from anger that was concealing fear. 

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asked, making you falter. He released your wrists then removed his mask. 

“You scared me.” You whispered with a frown. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact as you searched for any sign of a lie. “I had to improvise. If it’s any consolation, I’m planning to spend that money on a mattress for you.” He said softly, making your frown relax. 

“I’m sorry I called you a dick.” 

“You get a pass this time because I deserved it.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. “On the bright side, you seem to be coping with your fears much better now. Did you cry?” 

“No.” You furrowed your brows at his words. 

“How did you feel?” He asked, stepping into your space. 

“Scared.” You whispered. 

“Tell me about it.” He said lowly, eyes darkening with arousal. You swallowed thickly as you processed his request. 

“Tell you what?” 

“How it felt, what you were thinking. Tell me how scared you were.” He rasped and you could feel arousal pooling in your stomach from his tone. 

“I- I was shaking… and nauseous. I thought you- you… I didn’t want you to leave me with them.” You whimpered, giving him a pout that had no visible effect on him. “The last time I was that scared was when you used the toxin on me.” You whispered. He was suddenly pulling you into a kiss and you let out a startled moan as you landed against his body. He walked you back until your thighs hit the desk, then lifted you onto it, never breaking the kiss. Placing your hands in his hair, you pulled, making him groan against your lips. When he pulled back, you let out a low whine, trying to lean forward to chase his lips, but he stopped you by putting a hand on your neck. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the question. When you nodded, he tightened his grip on your neck. 

“Yes.” You quickly corrected yourself. He set the mask next to your thigh on the desk, then brought his hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand near your face. Making sure you were watching, he placed his fingers only centimeters above the lever on the wristband he was wearing. You stiffened, swallowing thickly against his hand as you eyed the threat only inches from your face. 

“Are you scared?” He asked quietly, making your eyes snap to his. Despite the very obvious threat, you knew that he wouldn’t do it, especially because he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“You wouldn’t gas yourself too.” You tried to sound brave and confident, but the tremble in your voice was obvious. His lips curled into a small smirk, making your stomach twist. 

“Smart girl.” He picked up the mask and put it on, then moved his hand back in front of your face. “What about now?” Your gaze moved between his hand and the icy blue eyes through the small holes in the mask. Even though, logically, you knew he wouldn’t because he told you before he couldn’t even if he wanted to… the threat was definitely still there. But instead of the nauseating twist, your stomach was twisting in a different way. A way that made your skin flush and your core ache. 

“Yes.” You whispered. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Your cheeks heated up and you looked away from him, embarrassed. 

“No.” Your voice was barely audible. The low chuckle he released behind the modulator made you shiver, not used to hearing something so ominous. He suddenly stepped back and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. 

“Strip.” He ordered, making your eyes widen. You tentatively slid off the desk onto the floor, then started undressing. Once you got to your underwear, you hesitated, but when he didn’t do or say anything, you slid them down your legs with a blush. “Sit on the desk again.” You obeyed and he stepped between your legs once you were seated, then placed his hands back the way they were, one on your neck, the other in front of your face. 

“Touch yourself.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him in surprise. When he moved his fingers closer to the lever though, you immediately brought your hand to between your legs. Staring through the holes in the mask, you watched as his eyes trailed down your body, focusing on the way you were rubbing your clit. 

“You like this don’t you?” He asked curiously, making your face flush. “Being at my mercy… Feeling humiliated, vulnerable.” He elaborated. “Knowing that what happens to you is under my control. It scares you, but it also excites you.” Letting out a shaky breath, you rubbed your clit faster, already feeling your orgasm growing. “I could use this at any moment and you’d have no choice but to take it.” You eyed his hand for a moment before looking back to his eyes. 

“Jon,” You whispered, voice barely audible. 

“No. Scarecrow.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that request at all. “Say my name again and you’ll be punished. Understand?” You nodded, feeling breathless, but his hand tightened on your throat in a warning. 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, Scarecrow.” You whispered, cheeks flushing at the unfamiliar name for him. 

“Good girl.” He muttered, making your breath catch in your throat, still barely used to such praise. 

“Can I come please?”

“You think you deserve to?” You could only stare into his piercing gaze for another moment before you had to look away. 

“I- I don’t know.” You whined. When he suddenly stepped back and let his hands drop to his sides, you let out a heavy breath. 

“Get up.” He ordered as he started removing his tie. You obeyed and waited eagerly on shaky legs. “Turn around.” Once you were facing the desk, he pulled your hands behind your back and restrained your wrists with his tie. 

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, voice no longer distorted. 

“Please don’t stop.” You whispered. The thought of him stopping was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“God you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” His mask was back on now, modulator distorting his voice, making him all the more intimidating. He suddenly fisted your hair and yanked your head back, pointing the wristband at your face as he held you still. “I bet you want me to use this on you.” He snickered and you did your best to shake your head as you whined. 

“What was that?” He used his grip on your hair to push your head down and then back up, as if you were nodding. “‘Yes, scarecrow’? If you insist.”

“N-no,” You whimpered, pressing your body against his to try and escape the gas that could invade your senses at any moment.  

“No? I don’t know… Seems like you want it.” His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing tightly and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want just a small taste?” You could barely hear him behind the mask, even with his lips so close to your ear. 

“Please…” Your voice trembled in fear, but you still ached to keep touching yourself. 

“What if I said the only way I’d fuck you is if I got to have my fun? Are you desperate enough to sacrifice your sanity, my love?” You whimpered and squeezed your thighs together, just needing him to fuck you already. 

“Jon…” You whined, pushing your hips back into his, but his hand on your neck tightened significantly and he let out a low growl. 

“What did I say?”

“I- I’m sorry! Scarecrow! I meant Scarecrow— Please, I’m sorry.” You rushed out, worried you had pushed him far enough to follow through on his threat. 

“Poor thing…” He cooed mockingly. “You touch yourself for only a few minutes and already you’re too dumb to follow a simple order.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried, tears welling in your eyes, but from humiliation of the situation and his words, not because you were genuinely upset. 

“What do you think you’d see? You said you’re not scared of me anymore so what would you see, little one?” The hand with the wristband remained by your head, which made you stay planted to his shoulder. The other started dragging down your body, over your sternum, to your stomach, then teasing your thighs. 

“I- I don’t know…” You whined, squirming to try and get his hand where you wanted it. 

“No?” You shook your head with a whimper and his hand snaked back up to your stomach, teasingly rubbing the soft skin. “You don’t think you’d see yourself with my child? After all, a come hungry whore like yourself is bound to get pregnant at one point or another. It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?” 

“J- …Scarecrow,” You whimpered, writhing against him. “Please.”

“Please what? Find out?” 

“No! Please— please fuck me.” He suddenly removed his hands from your body, then pushed you over the desk. Grabbing your hips, he pressed his covered bulge against your ass, teasingly grinding against you, making you even needier. 

“You want my cock?” 

“Yes,” You gasped out, pushing your hips back against him. He pulled back and you were about to complain, but quickly shut your mouth once you heard the rustling of his clothes as he freed his length. He swiped the head through your folds, making you jump at the sudden pleasure. 

“Beg.” 

“Please, Sc- …Scarecrow.” You whined, embarrassed. When he remained silent, you whined even louder. “Please! Please fuck me!” He relented and you choked on a gasp when he applied more pressure until the fat head of his cock was breaching your hole. He didn’t stop until his hips were flush to your ass, feeling so incredibly deep that you couldn’t tell if it hurt or not. 

“Fuck— oh my god.” You whimpered, clenching your fists behind your back as you struggled to adjust to his size. The low, distorted groan from behind you made you shiver. “Please!” You cried, trying to wiggle your hips under him. He slowly dragged his length out, then pushed back in at the same speed, maintaining that rhythm. 

“Shh, just take it. Be a good little flesh light, close that fuck hole, and just take my cock.” Despite the warning, your mouth remained open, loud moans slipping past your lips as your walls fluttered around him. “That’s a good whore— shit… Making me feel so good, little one.”

“Oh god- please,” You sobbed. He sped up a little, grabbing your hips tightly and holding you still as he rocked into you. “Faster.” You said through a moan and surprisingly, he obeyed. He sped up even more, pulling you back by your hips with each thrust until you were moaning uncontrollably and babbling out senseless pleas. He suddenly leaned over your body, his cock pushing against your cervix almost uncomfortably as he kept thrusting. 

“Can you hear how wet your fucking cunt is?” The distorted voice right next to your ear made you shiver as you let out a quiet whimper. You could hear it. The sound of your wetness was almost deafening, even with your moans and the sound of his hips hitting against your ass. “Such a fucking slut getting off on me threatening you.” As your knees buckled and weakened, you were glad the desk was holding your weight up. 

“You want it, don’t you? You want it so bad, your pussy is practically drooling for it.” He suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, aiming the wristband on his other hand at your face again. You let out a loud moan and he chuckled quietly. “Fuck- your pussy squeezes me so tight when I do this. How’d I get so lucky, huh? I mean, I have my own personal whore at my disposal. And not only is she desperate for my cock, but she’s desperate for my toxin as well.” You whined and shook your head, the humiliation and pain on your scalp making the tears in your eyes threaten to fall. 

“No..” 

“Yes.” He said simply. “You can deny it all you want, but your body knows what it wants.” 

“Scarecrow,” You sobbed, quickly approaching your orgasm. 

“I know, little one. It’s okay.” He cooed, moving his hand to your neck and lifting your torso off the desk, making you put your weight on your shaky legs. “Are you close?” You nodded rapidly with a loud moan as he kept fucking you, his cock feeling so much deeper in this position. 

“I’m going to count down from ten. If you don’t come, I’m going to use this.” He moved the hand with the wristband to your eyeline to make sure you knew what he was talking about. “Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes.” You whimpered. He sped up his thrusts significantly, making your release a startled moan. 

“Ten.” His hand on your neck tightened, making your head feel light and floaty from that and the pleasure. “Nine. Think you can do it little one?” You nodded with a whimper, already feeling incredibly close now. “Eight.” Through the modulator in the mask, you could hear the way he was starting to breathe heavily, nearing his own orgasm as well. 

“Seven… God- maybe I should just use it anyway. You’d look so pretty coming on my cock as your fears consumed you.” He said quietly, making you let out a choked sob.

“Please.” You cried. 

“Six. Do you want that, pretty girl?” 

“N-no.” You whimpered, but it wasn’t believable when you moaned before you could even finish getting the word out. 

“I think you do… Why else would you be squeezing me so damn tight? Five.” His thrusts turned frenzied as his own orgasm grew even closer. “I can’t wait to feel you milk my cock while you scream and writhe in fear. Four.” Even though you were still mostly sure he wouldn’t actually gas you, the more he spoke, the less confident you felt in your answer. Regardless, it was hard to focus on— hard to care— with his cock pistoning in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Three. I hope you’re close.” You nodded as much as you could with his hand on your neck. “Yeah, I can tell. I can feel it… Two.” Your breathing grew rapidly, from fear or arousal you weren’t sure. 

“Ready?”

“Please— please, oh god.. please let me come.” You cried, trying to make yourself come, but struggling without his explicit permission. 

“One. Come, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock like your life depends on it, because it does.” You let out a loud sob that turned into a moan when the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped. He fucked you through it, hand tightening on your neck as he held you close, fully pressed to his body. “That’s it. Do a good job and make me come.”

“Oh god,” You sobbed walls fluttering around his length, making his hips stutter. “Please- please come. I need it… Need you to fill me up.” You whined as the tears in your eyes finally started to fall. They weren’t from fear, but rather desperation with a hint of overstimulation as you came down from your orgasm. His hand moved from in front of your face to around your stomach, pulling up against his body as he rutted into you eagerly. 

He stilled with a low, distorted groan and you could feel his cock twitching against your walls as he obeyed your request. You panted heavily, doing your best to ignore the new fire growing in your belly as he moaned and whined, trying to bury himself even deeper in your warmth. 

When he finally stilled and his moans died down, he removed his hand from your neck and wrapped it over your chest, still holding you against him. 

“Jon?” You asked quietly, making him startle as if he forgot you were there. He took the mask off, then pushed your hair behind your ear to place a kiss on your neck. 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled against your skin, both of you still panting. 

“Better than okay. But if you let me go, my knees are going to give out and I’m definitely going to fall.” He chuckled quietly as he stayed buried in your neck for only a moment longer before reluctantly pulling back. 

“Let me help you onto the desk, then I’ll carry you to the couch, okay?” You nodded and he maneuvered you to sit on the desk, both of you wincing when he pulled out. He settled between your legs then reached around behind you to undo his tie. “I wasn't too rough?” He discarded the fabric on the desk then lightly grabbed your wrists to pull them in front of you and massage them gently. 

“I loved it, Jon. Honestly. It was perfect.” He didn’t respond and instead just wrapped your legs around his hips to lift you and carry you over to the couch. He gently laid you down then took off his shirt and pants, laying them neatly over the back of the couch. When he grimaced as he started tucking his softening cock, still wet from your arousal, back in his underwear, you stopped him. You moved forward enough to wrap your lips around it, moaning at your combined tastes. 

“What— oh fuck… What are you doing?” He asked, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock. After a few more licks, you pulled back, giving him a saccharine smile. 

“There. All clean.” You said, tucking his semi back in his underwear. 

“Tease.” He muttered with a small smile, laying down and pulling you into him. He was quiet for a while as he stroked your hair and let you trail your fingers over his torso, but eventually he broke the silence. “Are you sure it was okay? I didn’t mean to do all of that. I- I shouldn’t… have done all of that. Not when you were on the verge of tears after what happened.” Honestly, you had forgotten about what happened until he mentioned it. You leaned up so he could look into your eyes as you spoke. 

“I loved it, Jon. We’ve never.. done anything like that,” You meant the consensual part of consensual non consent, “and I really really liked it. It was fucking hot.” He didn’t react to your confession as he studied you carefully, searching for the hidden truth behind your words. “And honestly, you made me a little curious about how your toxin would affect someone who’s that horny. Almost enough to make me want to try it.” 

“Are you mad?” He asked in disbelief, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

“I- I just… It would be interesting to study, don’t you think?” You said sheepishly, feeling more foolish the longer he looked at you like you truly belong in Arkham. “Sorry… Forget I said anything.” You laid back down, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

“I was only referring to you wanting to try it yourself.” He explained. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

“It was stupid anyway. I’ll leave the sciencey things to you from now on.” You tried to lighten the mood, but your tone didn’t convey the lightheartedness you meant for it to. 

“Would you like to be involved in the.. sciencey things?” You were only mostly sure he wasn’t making fun of you. “You can’t help with the chemistry behind it obviously, but if you want to be involved in the rest, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“I- I don’t know… I didn’t handle myself very well tonight. It’s probably not a good idea.” You muttered despondently. 

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded in response. “Was that the first time you’ve ever attended an illegal deal as a fugitive?” 

“…Yes?” Obviously it was. 

“That is my point. You’ve never done anything like that before, of course you didn’t handle it very well.”  

“Oh. Yeah I guess that’s true.” You trailed off into silence as your thoughts consumed you. Should you? It sounds… not necessarily fun, but like it could be something you wouldn’t exactly hate. You’d get to spend more time with him too. 

“Think about it for a while.” He said, dragging you out of your thoughts. 

“Okay.” You sighed. Then, “Jon?” He hummed, telling you to continue. “Why did you take off your clothes when you were already dressed?” You asked, continuing trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You didn’t mind it— not even a little bit. You were just curious. 

“I assumed you’d prefer it.” He said simply, minding his tone. 

“Why do you think that?” You asked, then, “Not that you’re wrong— I’m just wondering.” He let out a quiet sigh and you laid your palm flat against his chest to feel his heart that was beating only slightly faster than normal. 

“Because I prefer it.” His heart pounded faster and harder, but so did yours. “It’s different like this than being dressed.” Jealously, you wondered who else he’s laid like this with. Surely with any previous girlfriends, maybe even his mom. But at the same time, you’re not sure if you believe that. The way he expresses physical touch is almost awkward, unpracticed, as if he doesn’t have any previous experience laying with anyone but you. While the thought made your stomach flutter, it also made your chest ache with sympathy. “Falling asleep on me?” He suddenly asked. 

“No- sorry. Just thinking.” You said quietly, picking up the motions of your fingers against his chest again. You couldn’t believe that Jonathan Crane— the Scarecrow— was such a softy. But not just a softy in general- only for you. The thought was enough to make you almost nauseous with butterflies. 

Part 11

Taglist

@arcanebabe @quietnymph11 @dynamitehacke @pedrisgatorade @mandowhatnow @thefandomdiaries07 @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @mrkdvidal1989 @nx-0w @yrluvvr @arieslost @some-clever-username @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @geekmom3 @pleasant-meadow (didn’t let me tag —>) @imlikefrhungry @melanieani @oopy @slay-walker @annalauras-stuff @anakin-dilf @riddler-zs @tumblin-theworldaway @fire-treasure-iii @ephiiphanyy

[fox-guardian]

it will never not fuck me up that what happened to Danny stoker is never. NEVER. referred to as a death.

[ID: A section of the MAG 104 transcript reading: "[Bitterly] Statement of Timothy Stoker, on the disappearance of… of my brother, Danny, four years ago. June 14th, 2017." end id]

Tim's statement was about his disappearance, not his death.

[ID: Two sections of TMA transcripts. The first is from MAG 104 reading: "let me tell you what. If you want me to ignore everything that’s going on, forget my brother and everything that’s happened over" and the second is from MAG 119 reading: "NIKOLA: Once. A long time ago, before Orsinov made me. And sometimes, even now, for special occasions. Like your brother. [distorted] SHALL I?" end ID]

Tim asks Elias if he wants him to forget "his brother". Nikola says she still goes as Grimaldi for special occasions, "like your brother". Never once during his statement does Tim mention Danny dying. No one ever calls it a death. For Tim, you could say it was denial, or at least say that he couldn't bear to speak it out loud. For Nikola, you could just say that's just how she talks.

But then there's the fact that Nikola had said this to Jon in ep 101

[ID: A section of the MAG 101 transcript reading: "ORSINOV: Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for you. You won’t even need a coffin – we’re going to use every piece of you." end ID]

she was going to skin him, but would still find a use for the rest of him. presumably, she treats most, if not all of her other victims this way. but what, praytell, could that use possibly be?

perhaps mr archive man has an answer for us

[ID: A section of the MAG 118 transcript reading: "fill with waxworks. And I guess you don’t need skin to sing. (shaky breath) To join the choir." end ID]

HMMMM GOLLY GEE BATMAN I WONDER WHAT HAPPENED TO DANNY

ANYWAY with all this together it is going to Drive Me To The Brink Of Madness that it's implied that Danny, in some form or another, was still Alive at the unknowing. he didn't die that wednesday night in august when Tim had last seen him, oh no. he was still alive.

likely all the way up until the unknowing.

until Tim.... i shan't say

[annabelle--cane]

Hey so I'm not good at subtext and I saw you posting about ep 200 of TMA being awesome. I've listened to it a few times and I'm mostly...confused? I don't understand what happened

(I mean, I get what Martin did to Jon, but nothing other than that)

Would you mind explaining why it's impactful to you?

honestly the main standout thing that makes it really shine to me is the soundscaping and vocal editing, and I've seen people take that as an indirect snide comment about the writing before but it really isn't, the entire scene in the panopticon just sounds gorgeous. the distortion and static on jon's voice, the underscoring of the statement, the way jon and martin's dialogue pops out from the sounds of the crumbling tower, it's just. aaaaaaaaaa. I find it really pleasant to listen to, if you've only listened through speakers then I'd 100% recommend trying it with headphones, it is simply very pretty and well made.

from the story side, it's beat after beat of ultimate catharsis for threads and arcs that have been set up for the whole show.

jon going ham and just really brutally killing jonah with his own hands, no supernatural influence, finally fulling snapping and, it sounds like, gutting him like a fish. it's just about the most lively and impassioned we've heard him all season, and, as far as anyone could deserve to do such a thing, he really is the person who deserved to get to do it.

jon and martin both betraying each other and making the choices that the whole story has been leading them to. jon has spent years fighting against his internalized idea that he can't trust anyone and he's the only person who's powerful/expendable/knowledgeable enough to make decisions and solve problems, and at last he submits to it and takes matters into his own hands. martin has spent years operating under the assumption that he's unimportant and incapable, and now just as he finally accepts that his choices have meaning, he sets the plan in motion that ends up getting them both killed. and jon has tried so hard to be transparent and show him trust that he underestimates just how willing jon is to go behind his back and disregard the plan completely.

and the fuckign. web lighter. I have a longstanding obsession with the mechanics of fate in tragedy narratives, and this lighter. hhh. so, fate (the web) was guiding jon & co to release the fears, but to jon's knowledge, killing jonah and becoming the pupil should have been his winning move to keep them contained. as far as he was capable of comprehending, he made all the right choices, but fate (the web) (the oppressive forces that govern all of our lives) doesn't play fair, it planned for this and cheated him. because he couldn't remember the lighter. he couldn't remember that he already gave georgie the catalyst for the explosion.

this tells me a few things: the ultimate end of releasing the fears was always going to happen, there was nothing jon could have done, but, technically, he could have adhered to the plan and lived to spend what was left of his life with martin and the rest of his nearest and dearest. but that was never really an option, was it? jon archivist sims would never have made that decision, that's why martin tried and failed to plan around it, that's why the web tried and succeeded to plan around it, it would never have happened differently. jon made his choice, it made no difference except to doom himself and the one he loves, he didn't have to do it, and it was inevitable.

and after all of that, after the web cheated him, he could still have won. he could have survived the tower collapse and kept the fears. but one of his biggest stated motives, over and over, is that he can't stand to lose anyone else, and martin is not immune to burning buildings the way he is. in an inverse to gertrude, at the last moment, he chose the barest chance for martin to survive over his own life and principles and big picture goals. he could cope with being responsible for killing the world in the abstract, but when it came to watching the person he loves most die right before his eyes, he caved and came around to martin's perspective. the other worlds can cope, he wants to save the man he loves.

[tumb1rprincess]

Random Thoughts About the Magnus Archives

I feel like something's being said about your personality depending on which avatars you like and which ones you want to drop dead, I just don't know what. Like, anytime Peter showed up, I'd be like "You're a bitch ass, go away." But anytime distortion Michael made an appearance, I'd be like "That's my baby boy!" And there are a few that are kind of in between. Like with Nikola, I was like "You freak me the fuck out, but you're funny, so I guess that evens it out."

I think it's so interesting how despite a lot of the characters not getting any physical descriptions, a lot of artists in the fandom draw them the same way. Like, Melanie almost always has colorful hair, usually blue. Jon's hair gets longer with every season. Helen is almost always wearing purple. I just wonder how everyone unanimously agreed on some of this stuff.

I thought the Leitner rant was a canon thing, so I avoided anything about it 'cause I wanted to be surprised. I think near the end of the series though I finally looked it up and I was like "What!? This was a fan thing?" Totally hilarious though, I kind of felt the same way about Leitner.

The inside jokes are fucking hilarious, like the "homophobic vase." Or we have classics like "I just listened to the episode where the guy has sex with a bug." "Oh, which one?" and "Peter and Elias are definitely divorced."

Seeing what episodes scared people and which ones had people going "Actually, that sounds kind of nice" was very interesting. Like, episode 57 where the guy was stuck all alone in space? Emotionally destroyed me. But then others would be like "Yo, being able to be all alone in space with no one to bother me? Sign me up."

Also interesting to see which Fears scared people the most and which ones they think they would end up serving. I think the Buried scared me the most. Episodes 15, 132, and 195 freaking terrified me. I'd probably end up serving the Lonely, I remember thinking "Oh, that's me," with a lot of episodes, particularly episodes 159, 170, 186. It was a weird combination of "I'm in this statement and I don't like it" and "I actually feel seen." Like a weird mix of being called out and also kind of validated because I felt like my thoughts and feelings were finally being put into words and that meant somebody else had gone through the same thing.

What were some popular fan theories that ended up not coming true? I think I saw somewhere that a lot of people were theorizing that Martin would join the Web before he ended up serving the Lonely instead. People often say Gravity Falls fans grew up to be Magnus Archives fans and I remember Gravity Falls fans going crazy with some of the theories. And even if some of them ended up not happening, they're still really interesting.

I love how a lot of the characters do shitty things, but you completely understand why. Like, Melanie's wrong for blaming Jon for a lot of things that go wrong, but you understand that she feels trapped like an animal in a cage, so she's just lashing out. Or Tim is kind of an asshole in season 3, but you understand because he went through a lot of the same trauma that Jon did, he's just reacting with anger instead of paranoia.

I've been watching a lot of fan animations for this show and a lot of the comments are like "I checked out the Magnus Archives because of this video!" And the same thing happened to me too. Did you guys see any fan animations that made you decide to give this show a go?

When people draw Jon with long hair, they draw him like he’s the prettiest man alive and I love it. That or ends up looking like Jesus or Bruno Madrigal

I see every day things like a spiral shaped object or a spider and I jokingly think “Is that a Magnus Archives reference?” Or I’ll be listening to a song and think “Hmm, that could go in a Lonely playlist” or “Ooo, that so fits with the Vast.”

[arospecsyourblockdudes]

Michael Distortion is one of my favorite Magnus Archives characters. He’s such a shithead. Every time someone asks him to do something, he just replies “No >:)”. He freaks people out for no real reason. He didn’t even need to talk with Jon after eating Helen, he just decided to fuck with the new archivist. He’s hilarious, he’s iconic. Looks like a normal blonde until you see his reflection and his freakass nature is made known. Last words were “Oh no.” Michael Distortion is simply the image of Michael Shelley but in consuming Shelley the afterimage of his fear, bitterness, and betrayal stuck around in the Distortion and he is unable to deal with it normally because he hardly knows what to do with a logical physical shape let alone feelings AND he’s a silly little guy

[spiral-man]

Hey! You! The gay people in my computer! Yah you! I just need you to listen to me for like five minutes (I’m either a genius or all the hair dye is finally seeping into my brain). With every new episode that comes out more and more theory’s are made and a lot of them I’ve noticed point towards all the different ominous things the characters say or do and what that could possibly mean. Most often though they lead to the implication of the character being not totally human. And I mean that’s what it’s all about right?

The Magnus Archives is about what makes a monster and the Magnus protocol is about what makes a human.

There’s also been a-lot of talk comparing the two podcasts:

•the intro music being more intense right off the bat in this one

•placing a lot of emphasis on the fact that the employees can leave whenever they want

At first i thought maybe the plot was just moving faster this time around but it’s not that, it’s moving backwards I think.

•Starting with the employee quitting vs ending with Jon and Martin ‘quitting’.

•Starting showing us how the computer just spits out cases whenever and you can’t stop it vs near the end when Jon couldn’t help himself from making a statement either.

Everyone in the Magnus Archives was human at one point or another, I think everyone in the Magnus protocol was a monster at one point or another.

Jonny sims is really good at plot twists and I think this would be honestly genius. I mean, think about it, don’t think about the Magnus archives, don’t think about the characters past or future, detach yourself from the eye and just look at these characters as they are, right in the moment.

“Oh that’s an ominous thing to say”

“oh that sounds like foreshadowing”

“oh that’s a weird way to say that”

how many times about how many characters do we have those thoughts? We’re only 6 episodes in and I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve thought something one of the characters said was a bit odd. A couple times is normal but especially this early on into a series it shouldn’t be so obvious, it’s to easy. We the fans latch onto these little bits of dialogue and theorize them to death and then move on to the next one and do the same thing all over again, connecting them like the web in the Magnus archives.

But this isn’t the Magnus archives.

Jonny sims once said writing the Magnus archives had to be a balancing act because he had to make sure that the timing of it made sense for people listening as it came out as well as people binging it way after it came out, there was only one safe house episode partly because he didn’t want fans listening as it came out to get bored since it would feel alot longer then It would for people binging it later. I think because this is following the Magnus archives there is a new element of it starting off with a pretty large fan base and because of that Jonny can bank on the fact that more people will be listening as the episodes come out and so we will be less likely to realize how often these strange lines are occurring and how easy it feels.

I think everyone in the Magnus protocol is only pretending to be human, doing a poor imitation which just gets worse with time like how the quality of a printed image will go down which each new copy you make. They remind me of the Not!Them, or the distortion, pretending to be someone/something your not and doing it so well it’s almost an exact copy….but not completely, some things are just slightly off, some things make you look twice and wonder.

None of them are human, not completely.

……..

(Not yet?)

[the-voldsoy]

Parallels/references/a couple theories about TMAGP EP1:

grouped in order of actual theories, vague things i noticed, and even vaguer comments! (using the same terminology as in TMA for ease)

HEAVY Spoilers !!

Stronger:

“Colin, mate, you know you’re never getting out of here” +won't leave until they figure out the errors “Or they finally kill me” → couldn't quit the Archives because they thought they just wanted to understand and know (but later found out they could only get out by dying or blinding)

Lena talks about cake → Mr Spider doesn't like cake + Elias seemed to love the stuff

pub called The Seward -> Peter Lukas vibes?

“There has to be a way to do this online” → haha ! you wish. (AKA supernatural interferes with internet so it cant be dont online)

“There's this box for a "Response 121" on the form.” → MAG121 is the episode Jon is woken from his coma/brought back to life by Oliver Banks

Talk about how there used to be a separate “Response” department → Elias tells Jon its their job to watch, not interfere (iirc)

Old as shit computer → old as shit tape recorders

AKA: the computer seems to be the only thing that can handle the supernatural

“ "Dolls comma watching" or "Dolls comma human skin" “ → violently Stranger and possibly Eye, has me in mind of MAG24 (the one the Calliope is first mentioned in, where the boyfriend is turned into a doll iirc) 

Barely understandable, long as shit file names →barely understandable, long as shit files names by Gertrude 

[in response to where the files go] “some long dead database that no one will ever look at or care about” → the Archives were unmanaged, decrepit and barely used by anyone outside of them

Work during the night - no sun, cut off from outside world → worked in a basement - no sun, cut off from outside world

Martin (and later Jon) taking the statements → did the same in TMA but in reverse (although I’d love to know if there's any reason behind them being called Chester and Norris, besides what's stated?)

Haha Martin and Jon (and Jonah) are now part of the World Wide Web → shit now they're part of the Web (just like with the tape recorders !!)

Someone talks about how they're sorry, they should've listened, couldn't face not hearing him again → martin @ jon and vice versa

Stranger statement with hints of the Dark → first TMA statement was a Stranger in the dark, and it does put me in mind of the Anglerfish tbh

Sorting system for the statements (although there's is a Lot more detailed and v different) → Smirke’s Fourteen

Gwen openly does not like Lena → literally anyone @ Elias

Asked if they were tricked into working here → well, we know the Archives and Elias

“The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → most of the Archives (excluding Sasha and maybe Martin) had something that made them Marked, that mostly led to them working there

Someone who's into spelunking listed the Institute as “cleared” → who could that be (if we know them at all)? Buried avatar, i'd guess, but we don't really know any of them

Photos of the Institute don't show up → photos of the supernatural don't work

The Institute was “weird”, made the subject paranoid → lingering Eye

Fire twenty years ago that burned the Institute → Like the fire at Hilltop Road? Or like that time Gertrude tried to burn down the Institute?

Third floor was the most burned → assuming that's the top floor (and correct me if i'm wrong), wasn’t Jonah in (and later killed) on the top floor?

“offices like little cells” → employees were certainly trapped ! also Millbank Prison

Worried non-existent doors were going to slam shut → the Distortion

Weren’t any papers → left behind before the Institute came to this Somewhere Else (assuming it's the same Institute)? (we need an actual name for the original universe and this Somewhere Else)

Suspicious stains on some floors → my darling, that is blood ! or possibly squished worms, or ink. or possibly something Else

“an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on” → genuinely unsure what this could be

Strange symbols → For all the Fears, or just the Eye, i wonder? I think i remember them saying something about an Eye symbol at this point, but now i can't find where

“you get a job, I get a fresh victim. It’s all in your contract.” → Elias @ his employees

 “To new beginnings, with old friends” → to a new beginning, with our old friends Jon, Martin and Jimmy Magma :)

“You’re not as clever as you think you are. You think you've got us all fooled, that no-one knows you're listening, But I do. I know. I’m going to find you and then…” → hi what did he mean by this

They (jon, martin & jonah) are Watching and Listening and following through technology→ just like Elias (Panopticon vibes tbh) and Sergey Ushanka

Vaguer (idk if theres anyhting here, but wanted to include it anyway):

Alice loves coffee -> Martin loved tea

Meeting in a cemetery → Sasha with Michael pre-prentiss attack, Naomi Herne 

Not wanting to stay at home because it's full of memories → Jon moving with Georgie, Martin moving to the Archives

Gwen Bouchard wants Lena’s job → Bouchard (appeared to) climb the job ladder quicker than he should have

Heh bug list → corruption

 “You don’t seem like the usual hopeless wasters Lena hires” “The awful, terrible thing that landed you here?” → okayy no need to be rude. But anyways the OG Archives crew were actually pretty disconnected from the rest of the world +were barely there by choice?

“freight cars near Brighton” → hey where did Melanie get her first Slaughter mark ?

“it’s not too awkward working with an ex?” → Georgie and Jon?

FR3-d1 -> i feel like there's something there, but i cannot figure it out

Just words that made me irrationally scared:

Stranger(‘s)

Distortion

Opposites:

Starts with a party for someone leaving → couldn't quit the archives

“ …you are perfectly within your rights to resign. No one is forcing you to stay here.”

please put any opinions/additions in the tags !!

[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

“I need a place to stay.”

“I need a place to stay.”

Those were the first words Michael had uttered in hours. He had been sitting near-comatose in the corner of Jon's office ever since they'd both stumbled free from the Distortion's Halls, unmoving and unresponsive until now. Jon started in surprise, completely unprepared to hear those words come from Michael's mouth, sounding so hollow and tired. He completely understood the feeling.

"Right," he sighed in agreement, before he paused awkwardly. "I, ah...may also be short on...accommodations. I was, I was in hiding before the Circus kidnapped me, and now...I don't know."

Michael laughed, short and sharp and nothing like how he had sounded before. "Great," he groaned, shoving his tangled hair back and rubbing at his forehead with both hands. "That's great." He had a headache, Jon knew- Knew, a headache he'd been suffering from ever since he'd stepped through the Distortion's door so many years ago. Jon could almost feel it in his own head, aching and heavy, and cracked his neck to try to alleviate it. He was...quite stiff, he realized, and quickly pushed that thought from his mind.

"There's a cot in Document Storage," he offered weakly, and Michael stopped massaging his head to squint up at him irritably.

"I won't fit on that," he snapped sullenly. "I...fuck." He winced suddenly, flinching quite violently. "I shouldn't know that," Michael muttered to himself. "I shouldn't know- I think the Distortion has been spying on you."

"That...makes sense," Jon conceded. Who knew what else had eyes in the Archives watching him. The flash of horribly familiar paranoia made his stomach turn and skin crawl, sparking a desperate urge to be out of the Institute before he did something drastic. "I'm booking us a hotel room," he decided firmly. "And I'm expensing it to the Institute."

"That'll show them," Michael encouraged half-heartedly. Jon busied himself with making the arrangements, while also thinking about what other arrangements he needed to make. Michael had nothing but the clothes on his back and the trauma that his twisted counterpart had inflicted on him. Was he still tied to the Institute, after what had happened? God, was he now another Assistant Jon now had to look out for? He'd already gone through hell and been betrayed by one Archivist, how could he stand to work with Jon, if that was even what he wanted? Had he just gone from one torturous hell prison to another?

Jon couldn't fathom what he could do about that.

A round of calls and an awkward ride share later, Jon realized he'd been a bit too hasty in booking a room. "What do you mean, there's only one bed?" he demanded. The tired and harried-looking desk manager just gave him a blank look.

"That's all that's available tonight, I'm sorry," she said, completely insincerely. "You can try somewhere else, but at this time of night they'll probably all be booked."

"It's fine, Jon," Michael spoke up, hunched over the counter and head hanging low, hair spilling messily around his face. "Just take the room." Jon was so put off that he almost didn't notice that Michael had called him by name for the first time, because he sounded so profoundly and plainly miserable. He swallowed down his reservations and confirmed their reservation for the room instead.

The room was, as expected, small, and did contain only one bed. Michael sat on it listlessly, eyes unfocused and drifting away. "I, uh, I'd like to use the shower first," Jon said lamely, and received only a nod of acknowledgement. Michael's behavior, or lack thereof, was concerning, but so were so many other things, like the Unknowing, and finding answers to his millions of questions, and the heavy layer of lotion all over him.

Jon fought to remain calm as he showered, he really did. He should be enjoying the feeling of warm water running over him, cleaning his skin, but the layered-on oils were difficult to wash off, even with the tiny bar of soap the hotel provided. Choking back the noises trying to claw out of his throat, Jon scrubbed harder, making his skin burn and chafe, his muscles protesting the harsh movements. But it was working, his skin was free of that awful heavy sensation, and it almost felt good, after so much cooling softness. God, he never wanted to feel the touch of lotion against his skin ever again.

"Michael?" he called as he left the bathroom, shivering in the cold air, shoulders exposed by the towel he had wrapped around his chest. "Shower's free, if you'd like-"

He stopped when he found that the room seemed alarmingly empty. Jon's knees nearly gave out in surprise, stumbling into the doorframe as his eyes flew around the room. He breath caught in relief when he caught sight of Michael, crammed in the small space between the wall and the single bed, limbs sticking out jarringly, face hidden in a pillow clutched in his arms.

"Michael?" Jon asked as gently as he could. "Are you...what's wrong?"

"Walls," Michael gasped, muffled by the pillows. "They're too- it was...I don't know where- I can't, I can't, it's too big, there's nowhere I can, I can't-"

He sounded so panicked, so desperate and terrified. Jon hesitated, then stepped forward and crouched next to him, careful of the drape of the towel around his body. Bracing himself and pushing down his own awkwardness, he reached out and took one of Michael's dangling hands in his own uninjured one. It didn't feel the way it had before, or the way that...that Sasha had described it in her statement. It was a perfectly ordinary hand, slightly cold and a bit thin, but utterly normal and human. Just like the rest of Michael.

Michael had tensed sharply when he took his hand, but quickly deflated, turning his head free of the pillow to look towards Jon with red-rimmed eyes. "Your hands-" he stopped to swallow thickly. "They're not...they didn't lotion those?"

"No," Jon confirmed, nearly choking on a very inappropriate chuckle. "No, they didn't, I don't think they were going to...use them." God, that was awful, it was absurd, but he couldn't stop the strained laughter that kept breaking loose from his chest, unstoppable and inappropriate. A single tear slipped down his cheek before he roughly swiped it away with his free hand. He shouldn't be laughing, he shouldn't be caught up in his own horror when Michael had gone through far worse than him, and for much longer. But he couldn't stop.

Michael was watching him with eyes that were unfathomably deep, like they could swallow him whole. Jon wondered, near hysterically, if one could get lost in the eyes of the former Distortion, or whatever Michael was now. But he was not a threat, he reminded himself as Michael unfurled from his tight crouch and crept closer to him. All of that rage and betrayal was nowhere to be seen, for now. He wondered where it had gone.

Keeping hold of his hand, Michael stretched his other arm out and slung it over Jon's shoulders, pulling him in until they were both crumpled together, like two fallen walls of a demolished building. He sighed, and it stirred in the drying strands of Jon's hair. "What are we going to do now, Archivist?" he asked, hollow and empty again. His abrupt turn of terrified energy seemed to have dissipated for now, gone along with Jon's own panic. Which was the intention of his pathetic attempt at comfort, just not quite like this.

"You can call me Jon," Jon answered, unable to stop himself from leaning into Michael's side. Michael was leaning just as heavily on him, his long tangled curls draping over his bare shoulder, and he didn't hate it. "Please don't call me Archivist anymore."

Michael sighed again, harsh and painful. "I'll try," he whispered. "Its still in my head, it still wants to-" he cut himself off, which Jon was grateful for. "No. No. You're Jon. You've done me no wrong. You heard my story. You...you know now."

"I do." Like Martin, like...like Sasha, he knew Michael now, Knew him, had his statement on tape and seared into his mind and heart. He didn't understand what that meant, not yet, not fully, but it meant...something. "I...I'm sorry. About everything."

"Yeah." Michael's hand flexed in his, then settled. "So am I, Archi- Jon. Jon. I'm sorry."

They were such small words, but meant so much. They could be lies, but after hearing his statement, after seeing him fall apart, Jon didn't believe they were. Michael was no longer the Distortion, he had no reason to lie. Jon had to learn to trust, somehow, and who better to start with than someone who had been so betrayed? Michael pressed his head down, resting his cheek on top of Jon's head, and Jon closed his eyes, leaning into Michael's warmth. What else was there to do?

[thetriboulet]

Woooo so the Magnus Protocol premiered and I have things to say and things to overanalyse!

As we know, 'Chester', 'Neil' and 'Augustus' are, maybe?, Jon, Martin, and Jonah, respectively. Hence this:

And, of course, there's 'J1', 'M1' and 'J2' in the trailer.

However, I've seen confusion over the fact that the third 'Error' is voiced by Tim Fearon, who as far as I'm aware has not previously voiced any characters in the Magnus universe. Even though the name is distorted, I can make out what looks to be an H at the end of the name, so this very well may be Jonah.

My theory is this: 'Augustus' is Jonah (or just his voice). However, since the body of Elias was killed in the Panopticon, Jonah does not use Elias' voice anymore. Jon, Martin, and Jonah are all disembodied, if we are to believe they are somehow inside the computer/other technology (ie Alice/Sam's phone in the pub scene) or in some way somewhere adjacent to the world of Protocol. So it could, in a dream-logicy eldritch sense, follow that Jonah is able to survive in his own creepy old ass man way, and use his original voice. Obviously, I cannot corroborate this claim in any meaningful way. We have not heard Augustus speak yet, but I think it is a possibility nonetheless.

The fact that Augustus supposedly shows up to read cases aloud significantly less than Chester and Neil could also be a clue. Maybe Jonah is weaker than Jon and Martin due to his injuries, and is therefore unable to materialise as often as Jon and Martin. Maybe the voice that speaks the true cases (because, similarly to how true statements were identified using the tape recorder in TMA, I imagine true cases will be singled out using the text to speech system) is relevant to the case itself - ie, Jonah only speaks when a case is heavily linked to the Eye, etc.

Furthermore, there's the question of who is spying on who and when/why. By this I mean that we hear our perspective switch between devices (the phone, the computer, the security camera during Colin and Sam's interaction, etc), and I believe that this happens because one or more of the 'Errors' (as I am going to refer to them henceforth) is travelling between devices to spy on the characters' conversations. What we hear is dictated by what the Errors, characters who have prior knowledge of the Fears, deem important. This is backed up by the episode's closing scene: Colin's paranoid closing lines. It is clear that Colin believes someone is listening to them, and it is implied that he has made a connection between this and the Errors. What intrigues me is the Errors' motivation for doing this at all. If what they deem important is what we hear, and this is the first that we are hearing, then it seems to me that it is Sam's arrival that has given them cause for concern, or (in Jonah's case) hope (if he is plotting to return, or something, I don't put it past the scheming weasel). So, why are they listening? And how can we really tell if what we are hearing is the spying of Jonah, or of Jon and Martin?

Another thing. Jonny makes a point of letting us know that Alice does not think the work they do is of any significance, or is checked by anyone. She constantly mentions it in passing and is very casual in her attitude towards work. We obviously have the foresight to know this isn't true. The reason I point this out is because of what Sam does when filling out his paperwork: he ticks the 'Response' box, to which Alice responds that it doesn't matter. This could be nothing, it probably is nothing, but I feel like the fact that Sam has ticked the onboarding box of a mysterious department of an already mysertious organisation might come up later...

Yes I know I am jumping to a lot of conclusions, especially where the Errors are concerned. Please take every theory you hear, from me or anyone else, with a grain of salt, this is all speculative. From a writer's perspective, I honestly think it's pretty likely that Chester and Neil aren't actually Jon and Martin, and just their voices taken by the Web or something, but shh I can dream.

Edit: oh my god they changed his name to Norris that is even worse. Jonny and Alex were fr like 'neil is too kind, we need the name to be Chester levels of horrific'

[agentrouka-blog]

Accidentally stumbled into a Sansa anti (well they call themselves an Arya stan but they apparently think those things go hand in hand)blog and am now baffled and a little disgusted at the amount of vitriol these people have for..a little girl, honestly they had reblogged a post about how Arya being believed to be a hostage to Ramsay galvanised so many people in the North, etc and the difference between that and Sansa being the Lannisters hostage/Tyrions bride, and like..so this little girls life being worthless to these men (whether that's true or not) is somehow validation for you? Honestly it's a little disturbing (there's also a pattern of most of them hating Alicent as well which seems..meaningful)

Ah, yes, the fantasy that they have that the North uniquely loves Arya and somehow instinctively rejects Sansa, and that this would be a good thing rather than screaming misogyny. 😊

There's exactly one group in the North agitating for Ned Stark's daughter herself (the one within reach of them, mind) and that's the mountain clans, for two reason:

Distant family loyalty, alongside Stark loyalty. (A Liddle also aids Bran in the mountains.)

A culture that encourages them to seek death, not survival, at this particular time where Stannis comes knocking.

His father's mother's mother had been a Flint of the mountains. Old Nan once said that it was her blood in him that made Bran such a fool for climbing before his fall.  (ASOS, Bran ll)

It was a tale that any northmen knew well. "My father's grandmother was a Flint of the mountains, on his mother's side," Jon told her. "The First Flints, they call themselves. They say the other Flints are the blood of younger sons, who had to leave the mountains to find food and land and wives. It has always been a harsh life up there. When the snows fall and food grows scarce, their young must travel to the winter town or take service at one castle or the other. The old men gather up what strength remains in them and announce that they are going hunting. Some are found come spring. More are never seen again." (ADWD, Jon X)

"Winter is almost upon us, boy. And winter is death. I would sooner my men die fighting for the Ned's little girl than alone and hungry in the snow, weeping tears that freeze upon their cheeks. No one sings songs of men who die like that. As for me, I am old. This will be my last winter. Let me bathe in Bolton blood before I die. I want to feel it spatter across my face when my axe bites deep into a Bolton skull. I want to lick it off my lips and die with the taste of it on my tongue." (ADWD, The King's Prize)

Let's not overtly romanticize the North. Manderly's money is on Rickon the son. There's a sizable faction actually supporting the Boltons (Dustin/Ryswell and Karstark). No one lifts a single finger for "Arya" until Jon gives Stannis the advice to gather support in the mountains with his army, and those are the ones with comparatively little to do but die and "bathe in Bolton blood".

The main aspect here is opportunity v. cost.

But more to the point, just as you point out, if it was Sansa that Jeyne was pretending to be, it would be the same. It's not the girls (within their actual reach) they specifically care for, it's Ned and House Stark.

The specific (small) subset of Sansa Anti/Arya stan that pushes these takes is, indeed, less interested in Arya, the actual books and the political dynamics therein, than they are in a distorted Cinderella fantasy where Arya is uniquely chosen and loved over Sansa. The rejection of Sansa is as central to that fantasy as the elevation of Arya, because the Mean Girl needs to be vanquished and punished in order to destroy the very notion in the world that Their Projection Surface was ever not The Prettiest And Bestest, deprived of the admiration she rightfully deserved by the cruel machinations of a middleschool bully.

You know, that's the complex philosophical, political and literary themes and interpersonal dynamics that GRRM is known for. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[moonsanoverthinker]

Some more TMA headcanons because I’ve thought of some more. Also apologies if this list is a little more chaotic than the other one x (Here’s the first list I make incase anyone’s interested)

Also if people have their own that they’d want to add feel free to because I love reading other people’s x

There’s probably going to be some spoilers for but I’ve tried to keep it as broad as possible :) x

Tim used to steal Jon’s pens - Not because he needed them he did it to annoy Jon

Tim once hid a plastic spider in Jon’s desk then pinned it on Martin

Gerry liked to make puns, Gertrude didn’t like Gerry’s puns - Or at least she pretended not too

Peters changed the locks multiple times but Elias just keeps finding his was back in

Georgie has that really nice kind of swoopy writing - I kind of feel Sasha did as well

Distortion Micheal likes the animated Alice in Wonderland film - Can’t think why… (If I had any artistic talent I’d draw him as the Cheshire Cat but I sadly I don’t have any)

Melanie used to make loom band bracelets - She never gave them to anyone but she’d use specific colours with specific people in mind

Elias likes to shout peoples names then not answer them when they shouted back asking what he wanted

Jon owns a few packs of some nice playing cards (Like the ones with cool pictures and stuff) but no one’s allowed to use them - He let Tim use them once but after he slightly bent the corner of one they became off limits to them all

Jon drinks black coffee because it seems like the mature thing to do

Tim drinks the super sweet coffees because they taste nicer and look pretty

Elias has one of them big spinning office chairs - He’s definitely done the James Bond villain spin

Daisy once told Martin she knew a great place to hide his body - She then proceeded to leave notes around the archives to remind him - Jon would also take the notes down

Not necessarily a headcanon but I just imagine series 5 Jared Hopworth in the garden with a necklace of various body parts and bones

Occasionally Basira would just look out to the fourth wall - I’m imagining it like fleabag style

During their travelling Gerry brought Gertrude a mug from a tourist shop - She kept saying she didn’t like it but once she was back in the archives she would use it all the time

Just Jon wearing some sparkly green nail polish

On the topic of Jon’s nails imagine him with those pointy acrylics - He’d either be in his element or he’d have the same vibe as a dog trying to walk in shoes

Both Micheal and Helen just pinging rubber bands at the backs of peoples head (I’ve got no real explanation for why they do it but then again neither have they)

Jon appreciates badgers - He got a little desk calendar with different pictures of them every month

When Martin was staying in the institute Jon gave him a blanket. He took the blanket with him when he started living at home again and started using it

Tim kept every card Sasha ever gave him

Sasha has a little pot of fake flowers on her desk

Jon pretends to he surprised every time Martin gives him a present - Especially if it’s an out of the blue ‘I saw this and thought of you’ present

Sasha and Tim went ice skating together one Christmas - They claimed it was as friends but Tim did give her flowers

Also some random side notes - Slight spoilers for series 4/5

Listened to 170 and immediately started crying at the end / The descriptions in 172 made me feel physically ill as someone who really doesn’t like spiders / Also I saw a thing on TikTok where someone took Gerry asking to be called Gerry and paired it with I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski and it was more upsetting than I was expecting xx

[shadow-the-crow]

The Distortion didn’t like Michael as a who.

I mean, it says itself that it doesn’t want to be Michael. But the who and what thing actually brings us farther than that. It shows us his whole arc.

We all know the quote "i am not a who, archivist, i am a what." When i first heard it, i thought: Makes sense, it’s an inhuman creature, not a person, it just can’t have enough identity to be a who. Like it says itself.

But in Michael’s statement, it talks about having your who torn from your what, and replaced with another who. So it actually did have a who before becoming Michael. And it even admits that Michael also was a who, a who that became part of its being.

I think… it could just never accept being Michael. As it said, Michael Shelley was a constant reminder of its failure – the embodiment of it. The Distortion was forced to become the embodiment of its failure. To think with its mind. Of course it could never accept that. Imagine how horrible that must be – despising your own mind. (I think some people can relate to that, actually. I’m sorry if you can. I can.)

So it tried to disassociate itself completely from being Michael. To pretend it was only a what. I mean, we see that it’s comfortable with it/its pronouns as Michael, but not as Helen. As Michael, it embraced its inhumanity – not because it wasn’t comfortable with being a person in general, but with being that specific person it was forced to become. A person whose mind wasn’t made for the Spiral. Its failure incarnate.

But just before the Distortion in its Michael form dies, he ends his statement with "that is who i am". WHO. (thanks @totheidiot for pointing that out to me ^^) Michael finally got to talk about everything he had to endure. For the first time, he said the cruel truths out loud: How much it always hated being Michael Shelley. He told Jon everything, which also forced him to face the truth himself. And i think facing it finally allowed him to accept it. Accepting how shitty something is is the first step towards learning to live with it and maybe even learning not to hate it.

He could finally accept his mind. His who. Every part of himself.

And not even two minutes later, he died.

(Of course, the Distortion itself didn’t die. But its current state of existence died. It finally accepted its who, only to get it painfully torn from its what again.)

Because he got too lost in his who. Talking to Jon allowed him to be more human. But the cruel world he lived in doesn't reward humanity. It exploits the weakness that comes with it.

[syndrossi]

resonant ch31 dvd commentary

This one was a doozy, as everyone on Tumblr had a front row view of. I wasn't thrilled with the draft on Thursday, but after some additional eyes and another comprehensive round of edits, I'm happy with how it turned out.

You can really see my struggles with it in the words cut, which were a minimum of 1500 (those are the ones where I extracted more than one paragraph into my scraps doc).

Favorite line(s):

The walk back to the holdfast was like a slow wakening from a dream, and yet Daemon felt desperately tired, his body aching with a fatigue so deep it seemed to scrape the very marrow of his bones.

I was quite proud of the visceral feel of this one.

Jon stood without meaning to, Jon Redfort’s hurt mingling with the rage that surged within his chest. “She hated him. She hated every reminder of him. They dyed Rhaegar’s hair until they couldn’t, and even before that, she could barely look at him. She loved me,” he said, the words choking him, the truth of it almost unbearable, Lady Stark’s love through a distorted mirror, only this time, he was Robb. “And Raymar would cry himself to sleep, convinced it was his own failing.”

The theme of Jon's role being flipped so that he is now in Robb's shoes is one we've been exploring since chapter one, where he notices the way Raymar is treated vs him. It's such a painful thing to deal with, because it both stirs memories of his own treatment by Lady Stark, and the guilt that Jon Redfort has always felt about it. Even though it's not directed at him, the secondhand experience through Raymar reopens those wounds.

Jon dealing with the part of him that is Jon Redfort is another theme we'll explore later on, particularly during the Runestone arc, but we're seeding some of his struggles now.

(Jon continually urging Rhaegar not to mourn Rhea is partly born of this, too. On some level, he believes she does not deserve his grief. And it's easier for him to ignore his own grief that way, or avoid dealing with the guilt-tangled love her feels for her.)

Favorite Details

Marriage hunt

Since the harvest ball is approaching and pretty much all of the marriage-minded misses of the court have been carrying out their pursuits offscreen/in non-canon missing scenes, it felt appropriate to sprinkle in a few hints of what's going on in the background as Daemon and the twins deal with more pressing matters.

Daemon's chair

It's hard to explain in narrative format where Jon was sitting/where Daemon always sits, but it's basically at the end/"head" of the table, while Viserys usually sits at the end of the side facing the window. It killed me a little when I realized that's where I've always written Daemon sitting in his scenes there with Viserys, and it's so obvious why: it's the closest Daemon can get to feeling like his brother's Hand. Similarly, Viserys seats him in an inverted version of that during their supper the first night in King's Landing, with Viserys at the head and Daemon to his side.

Dynamics

Jon & Viserys

This was a fun one to finally write, since we've only had brief interactions between them, from other POVs (Daemon, Otto, Rhaenys). Viserys sees Jon as a mixture of Daemon and Baelon throughout this scene, with Baelon coming out more toward the end. And we can see Viserys respond to Daemon-y Jon in a similar way that he might to Daemon, by getting defensive/frustrated.

Viserys is in a weird place with the candle business where he accepts, generally, that magic is a thing. The boys are fireproof, there is a prophecy that he thinks they will fulfill, he's read about the distant communication made possible by the dragonglass candles of Valyria, and he's seen the red candle spark to life, just as the black ones did once or twice when he was a boy.

But Jon is a child, and unlike Daemon, Viserys has a fairly good understanding of what an eight-year-old is generally like, so he approaches wild claims of high magic with a fair bit of skepticism. Over time, I expect this will change.

I enjoyed weaving in both Baelon and Daemon through the conversation, and the past bond Viserys had with his brother. Viserys absolutely cut little!Daemon's apples for him when he was old enough to carry his own knife. (As did Baelon.) And even throwing in some of Jon's impressions of Viserys and Daemon are alike and not.

And even a few small parallels between Viserys and Jon that I doubt many people will draw: an unwillingness to give up control (Jon not wanting to tell Daemon about the drag marks in the secret passage) and not trusting their brother (Jon, at the end, deciding to "protect" Rhaegar by not letting him in on his plan to go after the candle). They both are convinced of their own mandate to solve problems (the prophecy for Viserys, the candle for Jon).

Daemon & Rhaegar

Rhaegar was in a special hell with Daemon in the latter part of the chapter. He's operating at maximum Aerys damage-control mode there, reading Daemon at speeds enviable by modern CPUs so that he can figure out how to defuse the situation / "fix" him before any (unintentional) harm is done. And the parallels with Aerys's paranoia are incredibly uncomfortable, even if he understands that Daemon is suffering under an outside influence.

It's also terrifying being an eight-year-old child and being dragged along to the dragon enclosure by a father who doesn't seem to hear a word you're saying (or care, if it were Aerys), and you're pretty convinced this is some candle magic at work, but how do you stop him if he decides to take off with you on dragonback? And even if he's unwilling to force you, can you really let him go by himself, in such a vulnerable state?

Meanwhile, Rhaegar better be careful about his plan to claim that the bruise is the result of a training accident, because a blow from a wooden blade doesn't go all the way around the arm, kiddo. Imagine Daemon thinking he's trying to protect Cole after being handled roughly by him. Or just his response in general to his sons downplaying injuries that were clearly dealt by an adult.

@inkykate asked for Rhaegar's POV here for the upcoming winter promptathon, and I'm very tempted!

Quick-hitters

Lady Sera and Lady Dynessa are both from this little impromptu ficlet.

Originally, there was a plot thread where Jon and Rhaegar discussed telling Erryk and Arryk about the candle. At one point, it was in their debriefing at the start of the chapter, a request from Jon to Viserys during their breakfast scene, and even the start of a scene where they actually tell the Cargyll brothers. I cut it because there was a lot going on already and we can revisit it later.

The Rhea grief/anger outburst from Jon caught me by as much surprise as Viserys, but it was lurking beneath the surface. And I cry at a dime, so you can bet I was a mess writing it.

Can we appreciate for a moment the breathtaking gall of Viserys telling Jon he should be grateful for him repeatedly banishing Daemon because it resulted in his birth? Imagine him saying as much to Daemon himself!

The candle is candling hard.

I didn't go into the dragon dynamics with Daemon because this is already quite long, but there was some interesting stuff there for those with a keen eye, including hints at how some of the candle's (sorcerer's?) magic works.

Daemon actually did something so unthinkable (hurting Rhaegar) that Qelebrys hissed at her beloved not-Rhaegar. The heartbreak!

Lots of people keeping things to themselves. So far, for example, Daemon hasn't mentioned the bounty on him to anyone.

I have fun with Rhaegar's strengths vs Jon's, especially when it comes to dragons. Jon has a fairly significant leg-up with his warging experiences and his former quasi-bond with Rhaegal, but Rhaegar is basically a horse girl, except with dragons, so what he lacked for originally in experience, he's making up quickly. But I also like to throw in nods to Jon being able to pick things up that he's discovered very quickly, once shown/pointed out.

Finally, there were quite a few bits cut out of the chapter. I'll probably throw them in a separate post later, since this is pretty long!