#takes place over the course of a summer in idris
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i hate the bracelet storyline just because it makes me really sad for all parties involved but my god does it scratch all the characterisation itches in my brain. there’s nothing i enjoy more than thinking about what might happen post bracelet with james’s characterisation especially.
#i’ve been working on this one shot for over a year that’s basically a james character study#takes place over the course of a summer in idris#because i think his first time back in idris post tlh would be interesting to say the least#and i just love picking apart his character looking at all the little and big scars the bracelet left behind#and at how he navigates all that#and cordelia by extension of course#to me there is a lot to unpack there that i feel like chot didn’t quite manage to unpack#i was satisfied with his arc overall but james being my little guy means i always want more i fear#so i’m trying to write more for my own sake#tlh#james herondale
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if this was a dream pt. 3
i want to apologize in advance because this is literally like 4 chapters in a trench coat... i'm serious chapter 1 was just over 1000 words and this is over 4000, I have no idea what happened. the reason I didn't break it up is because it is very alastair-centric. I promise next chapter we will get back to thomas and see how he's doing with the actual amnesia part of it all.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Fanfiction Masterlist | AO3
Alastair pulled his coat tightly around himself, trying to keep his breathing steady. The walk from the Institute to Cornwall Gardens was long, but it would give him far more time to clear his head than borrowing a carriage or hailing a hansom cab. He fell into the rhythm of his footsteps; this was familiar to him. He had spent more hours than he could count just walking and walking, trying to run from this life the universe had given him.
Now, though, even his walking was infected by Thomas.
Sometimes, I simply needed to get away from all of the hovering. There was this bit of forest near our house in Idris… it was nice, peaceful. The perfect escape, somewhere to wander until I was too spent to continue. Drove my parents a bit mad, but it was what I needed.
Alastair told him about the woods around Cirenworth, how it was his escape, too. He’d memorized nearly every corner of that forest over the years. It was somewhere where he could pretend to be someone, anyone else. He could be no one, even. He’d left most of the details out, as he often did when discussing his childhood. He trusted Thomas completely, but there were some things he preferred to leave in the past.
Now, his sleepless body ached against the increasing pace of his footsteps, pushing forward as if moving quickly enough could outrun the tears burning behind his eyes. He did not know if he could do this again. If Thomas never regained his memories, could Alastair convince him to forgive him again? Their original circumstances were quite peculiar. Could Alastair survive trying to gain his forgiveness again?
He’d do anything for Thomas, he knew. He loved him, even if he’d never said it out loud. And as he said it now, even in the safety of his own mind, it felt far different than it ever did with Charles on the receiving end. With Charles, love felt strangling. It was shackles to his ankles and wrists, tying him to his misery. Looking back, it was not love at all. With Thomas, he felt free. Thomas made the impossible feel possible.
It isn’t possible. It won’t ever be.
He heard his own words repeated back to him. He knew where this was headed from the start. This is how it all works out for Alastair Carstairs. He knew this time would be no different, even if he hoped it would.
He loathed this feeling inside of him. He’d been doing well. He’d been happy. Now all he could think of were his own self-doubts, his own self-hatred, his age-old desire to run away to the farthest stretches of the Earth in the middle of the night, never to return.
A better partner, a better person would not be so consumed in these thoughts as he was. A better partner would not be the recipient of such hatred from the man he loved at all, memories or not. A better partner would know what to do, how to ease the pain and anxiety that flooded Thomas’ eyes rather than exacerbate them. He was not better, however. He could never be what Thomas deserved. He knew it from the start, but it felt different, being thrown in his face now.
Perhaps it would be better this way, he thought, for it to end like this. It was going to end eventually, as all things do. Perhaps this way would hurt Thomas less, even if Alastair would always wonder what could have happened if he’d tried a little harder, if he’d been a little less horrible, if he’d been a little bit stronger, a bit braver.
He was being ridiculous, he knew. Thomas merely needed time. He’d just woken up from his injury, six months displaced, no less. He was grieving his sister again, even more than before. Alastair wanted to ease Thomas’ pain, but he could not, and thus, Thomas needed time and space and he would give it to him.
Before he realized it, he had returned to his home. He could not remember most of the walk, his feet guiding him through the city he now knew a bit too well as his mind wandered to a place he couldn’t quite reach with his consciousness.
He slowly unlocked the door and sighed as he hung his coat. Cordelia started quickly down the stairs but froze as her expression fell when she saw the look on his face.
Realizing what she must be thinking, Alastair quickly shook his head. “He’s alright. He woke up. He simply… appears to be missing about the past six months of memory.”
Cordelia frowned, her face softening as she continued down the stairs and embraced her brother. “Oh, dâdash. Are you alright?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Thomas is alive and awake. He just hates me.”
She sighed. “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think he ever truly did.”
He shook his head. “He thinks he does. Or he wants to. What’s it matter?”
“Take a seat, dâdash. We just made tea, I’ll bring some out.” Before he could protest, she left for the kitchen.
He settled into one of the armchairs. When Cordelia returned, she took the one beside his and began to pour tea for each of them. “You two will work your way through this, you know. Whatever happens.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you joking? I don’t think I’ve ever met two people better matched. It’s as if you share the same soul or something.”
He gritted his teeth. “Most would say we’re opposites.”
“You act like opposites. Believe it or not, though, behaving grumpy or cheerful are not personality traits. In all the ways that matter, you’re two halves of one whole. It makes me utterly green with envy sometimes, seeing the two of you together, the way that you understand each other so completely.
“I love James, of course, with my whole being. But if I’m being honest, for a long time I thought that the reason I liked him was because he reminded me of Father, all introverted and bookish and such. Now, I’m merely trying to decipher what was real and what was not, what parts of me are genuine and which ones are simply who I thought I needed to be to please him. James, too, is finding himself again after all that happened with Grace. Sometimes, it feels as though we’re two clueless children stumbling around with no sense of self, for some reason placed in this big house with adult responsibilities. It’s an utter mess sometimes, though every moment is worth it.
“Yet you… somehow, despite everything, despite all of the odds stacked against you, despite so much pain and fear, you found yourself and your soulmate all in one person. It’s what you deserve, dâdash, what you both deserve. You will find a way.”
He did not quite believe her, but he would not argue.
“Are you going to be alright?” she asked, cocking her head.
He nodded and then paused for a moment. “I don’t know how I’ll explain this to Mâmân.” Despite all the trouble it’s caused, she still did not know the truth about his time in school.
“I could, if you’d like?” Cordelia offered.
He sighed. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to keep the entire matter out of his own hands. He shook his head. “It’s time I did, I think.”
She gave him a bit of a frown but nodded. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m tired of lying. I spent enough time keeping secrets when Father was alive.” He stood from the chair.
“I’m here if you need me.”
He started up the staircase, mustering up a more positive expression as to not worry his mother too much before he could get the words out. He found her in her bedroom, resting in an armchair a few feet away from Rostam’s bassinet. He approached his baby brother first, giving him a small smile though he was fast asleep. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him, but he was certain Rostam was bigger than he’d been just a few days ago.
“He just fell asleep,” his mother said softly. He turned to her. Her eyes looked tired, though no more tired than they had a few days earlier, and certainly no more tired than his own. “Come, azizam, what are you doing home? Did something happen?”
Alastair shook his head. “Thomas is awake; he’s alright.”
“Why aren’t you with him?” she asked after a small stretch of silence.
“He… He has amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything past last summer. It’s best if I keep my distance for a bit.”
His mother gave him a small smile. “It’ll be okay, Alastair joon. He’ll understand given a bit of time.”
Alastair didn’t look at her. “Maybe. I don’t know. He… he’s quite angry with me. The original circumstances under which he forgave me were fairly bizarre to begin with.”
“Forgive you for what, dear? What could possibly be so terrible that he would not forgive you?”
He sighed. He knew he could not avoid this conversation any longer. “I… It was something that happened at school.” He paused for a moment. “I know you think that I got on well with everyone at the Academy, but… That isn’t the truth. When I first arrived, all of the other boys could tell that I was an easy target. I was smaller than them, and… there were rumors. After a while, I just couldn’t bear it any longer. I… I was always quite good with words, as you know. I learned that using them to cut down others would get me a good laugh, and as long as the other boys were laughing they weren’t…” He trailed off. How was he meant to tell his mother this? “It took the attention off of me.”
“By the time James and Thomas and their friends arrived the next year, I was so angry, at everyone and everything… I was so jealous of them. They had…” Picture perfect families, he wanted to say, though he could not. “They had these perfect lives, or at least they appeared that way to me. They never had to worry about attracting the wrong attention on the street or being humiliated because their families couldn’t afford to hire private tutors. They never had to worry about anything but growing up.”
“Alastair…” his mother started. “I know we never discussed things of this nature. It’s alright that you were angry. They benefited from society in ways that rejected you merely by circumstances of birth. But that wasn’t their fault.”
“I know. I know that now, now that I’m older. I know that my anger was misplaced. But when I was in school, society was too big. I only saw what was in front of me. I thought that if I must be cruel to someone, it should be to them. I said terrible, dreadful things about them and their families, things that should never be repeated. They did nothing to deserve the way I treated them. Thomas was kind to me, one of the only people who was ever kind to me in my two years there, and yet I still slandered his family. Last summer, he learned of the things I had said when he was not listening. That is what he remembers now.”
There was a long stretch of silence. Alastair would not look his mother in the eyes. “I always knew that you had a hard time at school, Alastair,” she said finally. “Your lies were never too convincing. I could see how you’d changed. I… I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”
He knew it, too. He knew how his parents had spoken about him in those years, lamenting about what a miserable and difficult teenager he’d grown into when he and his sister were not in the room. He also knew how his father only ever seemed to care about Alastair’s destructive behavior when his mother began to pester him about his drinking.
“It’s not your fault.”
“The world was cruel to you, and I could not protect you from it, but I should have tried. You were a child, my child, I am your mother, and I was meant to protect you, but I did not. Not just from the world, but from… your father, I know. Be kind to yourself, azizam. Regardless of what cruel things you did while trying to balance the weight of the world on small shoulders, it seems to me that those you hurt have forgiven you. You simply have not forgiven yourself.”
“Perhaps they shouldn’t have. Perhaps I never deserved their forgiveness in the first place.”
Sona sighed. “Forgiveness is not deserved, Alastair. We forgive for our own wellbeing, so that we can let go and move on. If you will not fight for Thomas on your own behalf, fight on his. He deserves to forgive you, to heal from these wounds of the past. He deserves to be loved by you.”
Alastair didn’t respond.
“It pains me to see you like this. You deserve to forgive, too. You deserve to forgive yourself and all who have caused you pain. You deserve to be free of it. As long as you keep such a tight grip on it all, you will only continue to destroy yourself, and as long as you continue to destroy yourself, you will hurt those who love you as well. Please-” she cut herself off, her voice breaking. Her voice trembled as she began again, and he realized for a striking moment that he had never seen her this vulnerable before. He’d witnessed her pain after Elias’ death, and he’d caught glimpses of her sorrow before it, but she’d always kept her truest self tightly locked. “Please, my love, promise me that you’ll try. You can start with me.”
He looked up at her abruptly, startled. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could find the words, she’d stood and crossed the few feet between them.
She took his hands in hers. Seeing the pain in her eyes, he wanted desperately to look away but he could not. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me for all of the ways that I’ve failed you. You were too young for the burdens I placed upon you. I never should have allowed you to take on that responsibility. Please, forgive me for all of the times I overlooked your pain because I was distracted by my own. I am so sorry, Alastair, for each and every time I hurt you and dismissed you. I did the best with what I had, but if I could go back in time and teach myself to be a little stronger, a little braver, to be a better mother than I was, I would do it in a heartbeat, but I can’t. All I can do is promise to try to be a better mother, not just to your brother, but to you as well. If it’s not too late.” Careful tears streamed down her cheeks, rare as they were.
He shook his head, feeling his own tears spill. He fell into her embrace, holding her tightly, as he had not done since he was a small child. “I forgive you,” he said softly, and he meant it.
They stood for a long while, holding each other, taking comfort in each other and the silence. Until Rostam began to cry. They pulled away from each other awkwardly.
“I should… get some rest,” Alastair said, trying to pull himself together. He realized suddenly that he had no idea what time it was or when he’d last slept or eaten.
Sona nodded. “Of course. I love you, Alastair. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become. I’m sorry that you and Thomas are struggling right now, but I know that you two are strong and resilient. With a bit of time and healing, this will pass.”
He nodded, unable to respond without breaking down again.
He returned to his bedroom to the sound of his mother soothing his newborn brother. Shutting his door behind him, he felt the exhaustion of the past several days settled deep into his bones. With heavy movements, he changed into clean clothes, leaving the old ones in a heap on the floor. Typically, he would be horrified at the thought of anything in his room so out of place, but he could not find the energy within himself to care.
He collapsed into his bed, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep, repeating his mothers words back to himself in his mind. If only forgiving himself would come as easily as forgiving her.
* * *
The next two days passed as a blur. He’d slept heavily the first night. Cordelia had reportedly attempted to wake him for dinner, but settled on bringing a bit of food to his bedroom instead.
The next day passed a bit more normally, though Alastair still felt quite scattered. He’d appeared well-enough put together, however, for Cordelia to feel comfortable going home, so he supposed that was a good sign. Kamala had come for a visit, too, though he wasn’t much in the mood for talking, and they wound up just giving Rostam a bath and discussing Kamala’s latest read.
The day after that had slowly begun to feel more normal, more balanced. Until Gideon Lightwood arrived at his door.
Alastair stared at him for a moment before regaining his composure. He began to call him Mr. Lightwood before stopping himself. It still felt a bit odd to call him by his given name. “Gideon, hello. What are you doing here? Did something happen?”
“No, no,” he said quickly. “Everything’s fine. Thomas is doing well; he’s feeling much better, though no significant improvements to his memory.”
Alastair nodded. “That’s good. That he’s feeling better, I mean.”
“I came here to check on you, actually.”
“Oh.” He paused. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“I wanted to. Well, we all did, Sophie, Eugenia, and I, but I was the most persuasive.” He smiled as he spoke, as if smug at the accomplishment of being delegated the one to come visit him.
“Right, er, come in,” he gestured for Gideon to enter and take a seat in the sitting room. “You’re in luck; my mother just made tea if you’d like some.”
He nodded. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
Alastair returned a few moments later and began pouring tea. “It was very kind of you to come, but I’m truly alright. Just worried about Thomas is all.”
Gideon nodded. “Of course. As I said, he’s doing well, or as well as can be expected under the circumstances. I know it is difficult for him, feeling so disconnected. Regardless of the brave face he puts on. It’s frustrating for him, as if we’ve all got some sort of inside joke that he isn’t in on.”
He could imagine it: the quick glances, the brief answers to Thomas’ many questions. He was certain it was driving him mad. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”
Gideon gave him a small smile. “Because he’s feeling better, his friends are coming by today to attempt to fill him in on the time that he’s missing. I’m certain there will be gaps, though. Perhaps afterwards he will be more open to speaking with you.”
Alastair didn’t know how to tell him that he wasn’t so sure Thomas’ friends would be singing his praises.
“You should stop by the Institute tomorrow if you’re free,” Gideon offered.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s up to Thomas, of course, if he would like to see you, but if nothing else I know that Sophie and Eugenia would love for you to come by.”
Alastair didn’t respond for a long moment. He’d spent these past couple of days mainly sleeping and caring for his brother, but also ruminating over his conversation with his mother. He began to make a mental list, both of the things he felt he had not forgiven himself for and the things he had not forgiven others for. Before he knew it, the list was distressingly lengthy. He had no idea where to even begin. Perhaps if he could put this one mistake behind him, whatever that meant, the rest would seem less overwhelming.
He knew that he would never forgive himself for how he hurt Thomas’ family as long as the terrible things he’d done went unspoken. Perhaps that was why he never brought it up. “Did Thomas ever tell you why he was angry with me?”
Gideon narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Something that happened back at school, wasn’t it?”
Alastair nodded. He memorized the way Gideon looked at him now, prepared to only be looked upon with hatred in a few moments. He exhaled and looked down, too cowardly to watch the expression change. “I said things… horrible things about your family. About your wife and about Thomas and about Henry Fairchild, but mainly about you, the Consul, and Matthew. There were rumours going around that he was your child, and I repeated them to him. I repeated them after, too. I have reasons for the way I behaved at school, but I have no reasons for that. I was simply angry. Matthew and I were both terrible to each other, and I was so angry for so many reasons. I did not think of the consequences of my words. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry for the role I played in causing your family such pain.”
“It’s okay,” Gideon replied gently. Alastair looked up in surprise to see not a hint of the hatred he was expecting. Seeing the confused look on his face, he continued. “Obviously, I’m not happy that you said cruel things about my loved ones, but it was a long time ago, and I would be a hypocrite to not recognize a man who regrets his mistakes and has learned from them. You make my son happy, Alastair. That more than makes up for anything you might’ve said when you were younger, in my eyes.” He flashed him a smile and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Here I was, worried that you’d killed someone or something.”
“Well, I’ve also done that, but it’s not what Thomas is angry about.”
Gideon stared at him, clearly unsure over whether or not he was serious.
“Joking,” he said quickly. “...kind of.”
He looked back at him hesitantly. “Do you… want to talk about it?”
“Ha, no. Not today.” His guilt surrounding the deaths of Clive Cartwright and his father would need to be addressed another time.
“Right,” Gideon responded. “Thank you for telling me this, Alastair. I appreciate your honesty. I only have one question, why did you not say anything about this before? It was clearly bothering you. Did you fear we would reject you?”
“I…” That seemed like the logical answer, wasn’t it? Yet he knew it was not the correct one. “I think that perhaps it was the opposite. I was just so ashamed… and I knew that as long as I held on to that, I would never allow myself to truly get too close. I know how horrible that sounds, and I know it hurt Thomas, too, but for some reason that,” he gestured vaguely with his hands, “was scarier than anything else. I’m sorry, I know that doesn’t make sense-”
“It does. I understand, Alastair, even if I don’t like that you felt you had to do that. I know the past couple of months have been complicated for you, though in many ways less complicated than the years before. It will always be your choice, but know that there will always be a place for you in my life, whether you and Thomas are together or not. But I will not ever blame you for anything you feel you are not able to do.”
Alastair nodded, feeling a soreness at the back of this throat that indicated impending tears.
“You should stop by tomorrow and visit us. It’s up to you, but I think that it would be helpful for you to speak with Sophie, too. I will not repeat anything to her, lest you decide not to. I do think it would be somewhat of a relief, though. We thought that the reason you were so distant was because you disliked us.”
“What?” He silently cursed the pain in his voice.
“Joking,” Gideon teased with a chuckle. “Kind of.”
Alastair exhaled, feeling a bit of the tension release, and gave him half of an eye roll.
“Please, tell me honestly, Alastair, are you doing alright?”
He nodded in response, finally feeling it to be true.
“I shall take my leave then. The tea was truly lovely, by the way. You must pass my thanks unto your mother.”
“I will.”
“See you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow,” Alastair responded before he could stop himself. He stood to see him out, but was surprised when Gideon met him with a hug goodbye.
“Thank you for chatting with me.”
“Thank you for… checking in.”
Gideon smiled at him and donned his coat and hat. Alastair watched him as he departed, feeling more at peace now than he had in quite a while.
thanks so much for reading! taglist (reply, ask, or message to be added/removed): @stxr-thxif @satanisanauthor @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @kamalajcshi @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid
#if this was a dream fic#alastair carstairs#thomas lightwood#thomastair#tlh#the last hours#fanfiction#fanfic#chain of iron spoilers#chain of iron#coi spoilers#coi
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Any Other Name- Chapter 4
Smoke unfurled from the end of the cigarette hanging from James’s mouth as he rested his forearms on the bordering wall that lined the rooftop across the street from the London Institute where he used to call home. Ashes flickered in the placid breeze that drifted in from the North and mixed with the dusting of snow the gray sky had finally decided to release upon the wasteland that was SoHo.
The cold bit at his fingertips, exposed by his fingerless gloves as he took the last drag and then stamped the stub out on the bricks.
It was nearly five in the afternoon when they arrived; he’d been waiting on the roof across the street for nearly an hour when he finally saw the flash of red hair standing out like a beacon in the otherwise gray and dismal world. She stepped out from the cab with a black duffle bag in her hand, in an oversized jumper and bicycle shorts.
She had to be freezing, he thought, as he released the smoke from his lungs. The last time she came to London it was summertime. He remembered the time well. He’d just been expelled from the Academy and kept home from the summer trip to Egypt his friends and sister went on to see the infamous pyramid Institute there. It wasn’t his parent’s intention to keep him behind, but since a number of his academy peers would be attending the trip as well, it wasn’t advised that he be amongst them after the recent series of unfortunate events that led to his unjust expulsion. He wasn’t entirely convinced he wouldn’t purposefully release a demon in the same room as Augustus Pounceby and Alastair Carstairs and their cadre of idiotic sycophants if given even the slightest chance.
Besides, he didn’t mind being left behind. He got to spend the summer catching up on his reading and training in the Institute’s gym. He’d nearly perfected throwing his blade directly into the target without looking when the Carstairs arrived for official Clave business. Their daughter, who was around the same age as Lucie, arrived with them. Cordelia wasn’t able to go on the Egypt trip either because of a training injury that left Cordelia on crutches and in a cast that wouldn’t be healed for several weeks. He couldn’t recall what happened, but he did remember that her ankle snapped in three different places and the Silent Brothers couldn’t mend it fully without her taking some time off of it. So, like him, she had been left behind. While his mother entertained Cordelia’s mother, she volunteered James to entertain Cordelia.
They spent the entire week she was there reading together while Cordelia rested her foot, sharing their favorite stories until hours into the night. She read to him passages of Layla and Majnun and he showed her all of his favorite parts of London from the top of a Mundane tourist bus. When the days would come to their end and they’d go off to their separate rooms, he found himself staying up at night craving the sound of her voice, the pitch of her laugh, the way her smile transformed her whole face and made his insides unfurl. He couldn’t stop his thoughts from finding their way back to her. One moment he would be reading Hemingway and the next he would be highlighting a passage to share with Cordelia. He’d be eating breakfast with his parents and find himself comparing the color to her hair. Each moment he was with her, it became more and more of a challenge not to give in to the overwhelming desire to kiss her.
He cursed himself for the better part of five years for not saying something to her before she left to go back to Tehran.
It may have been nothing more than a childhood crush at the time, but it flickered somewhere deep in his chest at the sight of her loose hair tumbling in the breeze as she looked up at the Institute.
“Daisy,” he whispered, the word curled in white smoke from his lips.
She turned to look over her shoulder towards him as if she’d heard his voice. He resisted the instinct to duck and instead held her gaze. From where he stood on the roof, he couldn’t make out her profile or even see if her lips were moving. There was no possible way that even if she did see a figure on the adjacent roof a few yards away, that she would recognize him. Still, he found himself holding his breath until she looked away again.
He watched as the Carstairs moved their things into his home with help by the very same Shadowhunters that voted him and his family out. Boxes filled with items his parents didn’t have time to collect before they were evicted from the estate were thrown out like trash to the curb.
“I don’t know why you choose to torture yourself in this way, Jamie boy,” said Matthew as he came up behind James and leaned his back against the railing. “It’s fucking freezing up here.”
James hadn’t heard Matthew come in through the roof door. He was still growing accustomed to the absence of intrinsically knowing when Matthew was near since their Parabatai runes had been destroyed.
“What can I say?” said James, leaning onto his forearms. “I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“And what have you done this time to deserve this self-assigned penance?” asked Matthew, kicking an empty beer can across the gravel. “And why was I not involved in the crime?”
“Thoughts of murder,” said James, “and revenge.”
“Nothing a few hail Angels and hours of demon hunting can’t forgive.” Matthew spun around and leaned on the railing beside James. “Ah, it’s move-in day. I should’ve known you be stalking the Institute like a starving crow.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“Who?”
James nodded towards the Institute.
“The Carstairs girl?” Matthew pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket and stuck it between his lips. After a moment of fighting with his lighter, smoke drifted from the corner of his mouth. “Considering she’s only been here for all of seven minutes, no, I haven’t talked to her. Is she cute?”
James turned to glare at his friend. “How would I know?”
Matthew shrugged. “I just figure if you’re willing to freeze your balls off on the roof of this mundane hotel to watch her move into your old place then she must be cute. Didn’t the two of you have a short fling a few years back?”
“It wasn’t a fling.”
“Sorry,” said Matthew around a puff of smoke. “A relationship.”
“It wasn’t a fling nor was it a relationship,” said James laced with annoyance. “We spent a short summer together when you abandoned me to go to Egypt. We read books and I showed her around London.”
Matthew clutched his chest, right over his heart. “Please, James, spare me the intimate details.”
James gave his shoulder a hard shove. “Come off it. I haven’t seen her since we were children, I was just curious if you spoke to her and could tell me how she... seemed.”
Matthew’s pale eyebrows raised. “How she seemed?”
“Forget I asked.”
“No,” laughed Matthew. “Genuinely, I’m happy to see you pining after someone other than Grace Blackthorn.”
A flash of betrayal coursed through James at the mention of his ex-girlfriend’s name. He’d been in a fairly serious relationship with Grace (serious on his part, but rather noncommittal on her end) that ended abruptly when the Clave sided with Inquisitor Bridgestock in exiling the Herondale family. That very night Grace approached him outside the Institute in Idris and while hugging him, told him that her mother no longer thought it would be appropriate if they saw each other and then left.
He indeed pined for her for some time afterward. He got roaring drunk and sent her a series of fire messages that went unreciprocated and progressively turned to beg until Matthew took away his stele and paper until he was sober and could control himself. Not even a month later, Matthew told him that she started seeing Charles, Matthew’s brother from time to time. James went out and got himself so drunk that he passed out underneath a bridge like a deranged troll.
Grace had been his first real relationship. He’d taken other girls out before, and it was on a date that Grace approached him—or rather stole him—from his date and started snogging him in the back alley of the Devil’s Tavern. That was Grace’s way with him: stolen, secret moments that left him reeling and in desperate need of a cold shower.
But when he tried to hold her hand in public, she’d find a reason to move away from him. If she spoke to her within a group, she barely made eye contact with him. When they attended parties or went out, she insisted they arrive and leave separately. He never asked her why she wanted it that way; perhaps he knew the answer and didn’t want to hear it.
He stayed with her because of tender moments when he felt the real Grace, his Grace, show herself. Like when they snuck out to Richmond Park and spent the night together lying on the grass, looking up at the stars, and talking about plans for their future. It hadn’t occurred to him then that none of her plans included him.
No, he’d long since stopped pining after Grace Blackthorn and wished for her demise with as much sincerity as he wished for the rest of those who exiled his family.
Matthew could be relentless in his teasing, so James made a quick attempt at changing the subject. “Did you bring what I asked for?”
Matthew shoved his hand into his light blue corduroy jacket pocket and brought out a three-toothed brass key about the length of his pinkie finger and handed it over to James. “I need that back before my mother realizes it’s missing which shouldn’t be until Monday morning when she returns to her office, so make sure that you get whatever it is that you need done with it finished by tomorrow night.”
James clutched the key in his fist. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Shouldn’t?” Matthew blanched. “No, no, it won’t be a problem, because if it is a problem then my mother will take the blame for it. James, I need that key back by tomorrow night.”
James placed a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “I understand, Math. I will leave the key at your flat tomorrow morning underneath the ceramic dog on your porch.”
Matthew’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “I have your word?”
“Of course,” said James and pocketed the key. “Do you not trust me?”
“Yes, of course, I trust you,” insisted Matthew. “My family has just been under a fucking microscope since everything happened. I had to tell the Penhallow boy that I was going to the shops to pick out new underwear and the bastard trailed me all the way to the strip mall and only left when I started picking out briefs. I would be insulted by his assuming that I am lying if I weren’t so goddamn irritated.”
James tensed. “Are you sure no one tracked you here?”
“Yes,” said Matthew as he took another long drag of his cigarette, “I’m sure. In fact, I tracked Penhallow to the Institute where he is one of the volunteers helping to move the Carstairs family in.”
“You didn’t volunteer?” asked James.
A stream of smoke flowed from Matthew's nostrils. “God no, I may have mentioned assisting my mother on official Clave business regarding a demon possessed artifact in an abandoned warehouse on Bleeker Street, so that is where they all expect me to be. Thomas, I believe, volunteered or perhaps he was wrangled into the job by his parents. The boy hasn’t stopped growing since he turned thirteen and his voice dropped. He looks like a linebacker on one of those American football teams. He will come more in handy than I ever could.”
Nearly a month has gone by with no word from Thomas or Christopher since the exile. As hard as James tried to understand the position his closest friends were put in, he couldn’t stop the sharp pang of abandonment, no matter how desperately he tried to convince himself that it was not like that for them. If the tables were reversed and he had to decide whether to risk seeing his friends or protecting his own life and the life of his family, then he could understand the hesitation.
Still, the anger ripped at his logic. He missed his friends— more than anything else he’d been forced to leave behind, he missed his friends.
“Is there really a demon possessed artifact in a warehouse on Bleeker Street?”
Matthew flicked the ashes off the end of his cigarette. “Yes, but it’s being dealt with by Anna and a few others. I told my mother I volunteered to help the Carstairs move. Everyone believes me to be in one place, when in fact, I’m actually here with you. As long as no one speaks to each other about my elegid whereabouts then they’ll all be none the wiser.”
“Clever,” said James, fiddling with the key in his pocket. “Thank you, for risking what you have to bring me what I needed. I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Matthew shook his head and stepped away from the bordering wall. His trainers crunched against the gravel as he spun on his heels to face James. “I may have to appear to be obeying their rules, but that doesn’t mean that I agree with them and it doesn’t mean that I will allow them to win. My life is still very much my own and I still choose to have you in it. You’re more than my friend, you’re my brother, more than my own even. I’ve told you before Jamie, they can erase my rune, but they cannot erase my promise, I will honor our vows as parabatai until I meet my end and not before.”
James embraced his oldest friend, clutching him tight around the shoulders. “I feel the same.”
Matthew returned the embrace. “You’ll take care of yourself, yeah? You haven’t told me yet what you intend to do with that key and I’ve been trying to give you your space and not ask, but if I’m invited to your trial after they catch you, I will deny ever being involved.”
James released him. “But you just said…”
“No where in the vows does it say that I have to stand by you when you do something stupid that I clearly warned you against!”
“It’s implied,” said James.
“I only follow explicit instructions, not implied instructions,” said Matthew throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his trainer before glancing at the watch around his wrist. “Shite, I’m going to be late. The Inquisitor saw fit to put a curfew on those of us who were affiliated with you. If I’m home even a minute after seven then I am forced into a meeting with both Bridgestock, Pounceby, and a witness to verify that I am being truthful about my whereabouts. Also, I’m supposed to pick up Christopher to help my father with one of his experiments on weapons infused with holy water.” Matthew’s eyes widened. “That doesn’t effect your demony issue, does it?”
James rolled his eyes. “No more than it effects yours.”
Matthew grinned as he slowly walked back towards the roof door. “My demons have far more expensive taste in poison, I’m afraid.” With that, he opened the roof door and disappeared leaving James staring over the edge as his life once again shifted into something he couldn’t recognize.
___________________________________________________
Whispers of the exiled Shadowhunters crawled through the streets of Hackney, one of London’s most dangerous boroughs and home to most Downworlders that had effectively been pushed out of the bigger, better boroughs by the Clave. Lined with crowded pubs and coffeehouses, and veined with dark and minacious alleys fraught with all manner of salacious activities, the whispers followed James around like his own shadow.
It’d taken him not even a week to develop a reputation in Hackney that allowed him to wander the streets unbothered, though it did involve a significant amount of blood on his hands and a few scars that couldn’t be healed fully with an iratze. Afterward, the whispers turned to warnings and rumors of his ruthlessness; those standing on the streets as he walked back averted their attention or moved out of his path. There were the occasional few that stepped out to challenge him from time to time, but he’d simply have to fling a blade within an inch of their skin and they’d let him pass.
James flipped one of his throwing knives between his fingers as he walked: a silent reminder to those around him of who he was and what he was capable of doing. It was an unnecessary safety measure, but a comfort all the same. The knives were the last remnants of being a Shadowhunter that he has left; now he lived amongst of the shadows he once hunted.
As he approached the great stone arch that marked the entrance to The Hell Ruelle, Hepatia Vex’s nightclub, without uttering a word, the burly guard stepped out his way and allowed James entry.
The place was packed with a mixture of mundanes gifted with the sight, Fae, Warlocks, Witches, Vampires, and Werewolves dancing in the strobing lights that swayed in the exposed rafters to the electronic music that pulsed throughout the building. James dodged dancing bodies until he reached one of the many ladders that went to the second level. The steel bars were warm underneath his palms and littered with glitter amongst other unmentionable things. Once on the second level, he went straight, passed the NO ACCESS signs that flickered above the doorway, and pushed aside the heavy curtain that kept patrons out. Once the curtain closed again, the music went nearly silent except he could still feel the beat of the dancers and music underneath his trainers.
He slipped silently down the hallway, scanning the shadows in the rafters above for any of Hepatia’s spies until he reached the rouge door at the end and knocked three times.
“Who is it?” asked a deep feminine voice.
“James Herondale,” he said and crossed his arms. “I’ve brought what you asked for and I’m ready to trade, that is if you still want to do business with—“
The door swung open and standing on the other side was not Hepatia Vex, as he has expected, but a half-naked girl with star-shaped nipple covers and a skirt that was nothing more than a belt with two long strips of fabric covering her front and back. Long, tanned hips and legs that James had a difficult time ignoring were laid bare and glistening in the dull lamplight. Her opulent eyes reflected like those of a cat as she smiled lasciviously at James.
“Come in, Herondale,” said a voice from within the darkroom.
James shouldered past the courtesan that may or may not have smelled him as he passed and walked towards the plush green sofa where Hepatia stretched out in a black leather skirt and white bralette that nearly glowed against her deep, rich skin tone. The room smelt heavy with magic laced with weed and sex.
Hypatia's eyes wandered lazily over James as she uncurled her hand towards him. “Where is it? Give it to me.”
“No until you give me what I asked for,” answered James and glanced over his shoulder at the courtesan. “And she needs to leave.”
Vex started at James for a moment, the corners of her full, sensuous mouth turned up at the corners until she swung her body into a seated position and crossed one leg over the other knee. “Why the secrecy? Afraid to tarnish your reputation… but wait, hasn’t that been done already?”
“I don’t need all of the boroughs to know my business,” said James, staring at Vex around the ends of the curls that had fallen into his face. He’d been told on countless occasions that a look from him set people on edge. Perhaps it was the color of his eyes or the intensity within them.
Whatever it was, it worked. “Leave us, Femi. Bring us back some refreshments.”
Without a word or much of a sound, Femi left out the door.
Vex bounced the foot resting in the air and drummed her long red-painted fingernails on the couch cushion as she continued to look James up and down. “You look thin. Life in the dirty Hub not treating you so nicely, little angel.”
“Don’t call me that,” snapped James.
“Why not?” grinned Vex, satisfied to have found a wound for which she could press. “Oh, is that not accurate anymore? Should I refer to you as, little demon, instead?”
“Do you want to make the trade or not?” James’s voice dropped into a low, miserable timber. “I have other business to attend to.”
“I’m sure you do,” said Vex as she stood up and walked around the couch towards the minibar at the back of the room. She waved her hand over the ceramic ice holder three times as flecks of red and magenta smoke uncurled from her fingers. The lid to the ice bucket shook until she took it off and removed what was inside.
She sauntered her way back to where James stood. Her cat-shaped eyes slid over him from brow to chest to hips and back up again. Her pupils dilated slightly. “My you’ve grown into a handsome young man, haven’t you?”
James resisted the urge to cross his arms or crumble under her stare.
“But then you’ve always been handsome.” Elongated incisors flashed as she grinned. “Something you inherited from your father.” She reached and grabbed James by the wrist-twisting his arm until his palm was flat and facing up. She dropped three bags of iridescent powder into his hand. “Now for the key.”
James pocketed the powder and retrieved the key. Hypatia snatched it from his hand and held it close to her chest. “Pleasure doing business with you, Herondale. You should go have a dance. You look like you need to unwind and there are other ways to do that without the use of those drugs. I can fall up Fima and show you one of my favorite ways.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I need to be going,” said James, but before he turned to leave he remembered his conversation with Matthew. “I’ll need that key back by tomorrow afternoon and no later. It’s important that I return it.”
Vex dropped the key into the ice bucket and replaced the lid. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I will have someone meet you at Blackfriar bridge.”
James nodded and turned to leave. As he reached for the door handle, Vex’s voice came from behind him.
“And James, if you ever find that you want a real job and not to sell magical drugs on the street, come and see me.”
James didn’t bother to turn around, he turned the handle and stepped out, with absolute surety that a business with Hypatia Vex was not one that he wanted any part in.
Walking out of The Hell Ruelle, James felt as if he could breathe freely again. The warm July night had the streets crowded with miscreants and the company of such, especially in Hackney. He skirted past couples doing more than just making out against the alley walls and avoided the gang of werewolves lighting dumpsters on fire outside of a liquor store and proceeded to howl mockingly at the moon.
He made his way down Briar Street towards the canal where his regular customers would be waiting for him to provide his recently acquired goods under the troll bridge where all manner of questionable deeds went on. He needed to be one of the first ones to get there or all of the most desperate would have bought from someone else.
As he passed an alley towards the end of the busy street, he heard the sound of a female voice coming from the alleyway. He wouldn’t have stopped if it hadn’t sounded so familiar.
He backed up several steps and looked down the alley. Three tall male Fae warriors stood in a row and over the middle one’s shoulder, James could see a flash of red hair, the curve of her face, and the golden hilt of a sword resting over her shoulder.
Something twisted in his gut as recognition overtook him. She looked different, older, beautiful.
“I don’t want to harm any of you.” There was a slight waver in her voice: fear and determination. “I’m here by accident and I’d like to leave without any unnecessary bloodshed. If you would kindly move, I will happily be on my way.”
The Fae warrior in the center removed two blades from the scabbards at his sides and glided them across each other so they made a spark. “I say we remove her clothes piece by piece and allow everyone in the Mill to look their fill of her nakedness.”
“She is a lovely thing,” said the Fae to his right. “Perhaps we could take turns with her and return her back to her people used.”
James’s blood boiled in his veins at the threat and he reached for the throwing knife tucked in his jacket pocket. He hadn’t answered the call in his blood in some time, fighting as a Shadowhunter was too painful. He preferred to get his knuckles bloody and his skin to split, but there wasn’t time for that now and it was far too kind of a punishment for the threat they made towards her.
Cordelia drew Cortana and positioned herself to fight. “You can try.”
“What will you do?” grinned the head Fae. “You’ll cut all three of us down by yourself with that little blade?”
He moved towards her again, but Cordelia stood firm. James couldn’t help but smile at her stony resolve. She would do it, he could see it in her eyes that she would not hesitate, but the bloodshed from either side would surely make waves in the water that his parents and several other Downworlders were trying to still.
James leaned his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms. “Oh, I wouldn’t doubt her, Bevan. I’ve seen her take down men twice as skilled as you.”
As the three Fae men turned to look behind them, Cordelia lunged.
A/N:
Thanks for reading! Comments, like, and reblog are my primary motivation.
Next update: Fri, 6/25
#the shadowhunter chronicles#jordelia fanfiction#chain of gold fanfic#chain of gold#chain of thorns#chain of iron#james and cordelia#james x cordelia#jordelia#james herondale#cordelia carstairs#matthew fairchild#cassandra clare#fanfiction
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Basil Oswald and the Caretaker of Dragons - Part 1
We’re back! I promised a new leg in the story, and a new leg you folks are going to get.
Clara Oswald and the Last of the Dragon Lords: Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - FFN - AO3
Basil Oswald and the Caretaker of Dragons
It’s been four years since Basil came crashing into Clara’s life. Now they share the promise of being the Doctor, and duties to protect Berk and the surrounding seas with their dragon, Idris. They are the Last of the Dragon Lords until the island’s children can be taught, or believe so until a chance encounter proves otherwise. [3152 words; a HTTYD!Whouffaldi AU]
Berk: it’s a wee, quaint place that I stumbled upon by chance. Though the people that inhabit it are stubborn and pudding-brained, they are also warm and devoted in their own way. You need to be, when snow is a constant threat—even in the summer—and traders don’t always come when scheduled thanks to storms and other terrors on the sea. The community is close, which makes their life possible, even as they adjust to the most impossible of things.
That thing is living side-by-side with dragons.
For you see, I was the true Last of the Dragon Lords. My sister would have readily took that title, but I knew different. To be a Dragon Lord was to be friends with a dragon, to live peacefully and harmoniously with them, and to help them and others as is fit. I was passing on the knowledge to my first wife and eldest child years ago when my sister murdered them. To her, being a Dragon Lord was about complete dominance over dragons, mastery beyond measure, and she knew that our differing philosophies would clash. That is why she took out the ones who seemed to threaten her the most despite the facts to the contrary. She thought she had killed me as well, though I escaped, living a meager existence until my dragon hit a skua mid-flight and crash-landed on Berk. I fought my sister again and now, these four years later, I have a new life with a new family. My wife’s village and the dragons her and I now hold dominion over have meshed together in peace and prosperity. It makes me glad for our children that they shall grow in a community where human and dragon no longer fight one another to the death, but stand shoulder-to-haunch in the face of our enemies. Their aunt might have stolen my vision in our last battle, but I take solace in that with each day that passes, with each child I teach, there is something that I refuse to be taken away from me again:
I will soon no longer be the Last of the Dragon Lords.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The worst part about Basil having been blinded was that he could still see in his dreams.
“What is it Dad?”
He had glanced over and saw his daughter, her eyes bright with curiosity as she held up a small rock. She had been a sponge for knowledge soon as she was born and that day had been no different. Following him out into the caves, the two were letting her mother rest, keeping her away from dragons and the dragons away from her.
“It’s a fragment of dragonsblood,” he explained. “It’s a rock often found by dragons’ nests. Constant heat from their breath changes the composition of the stone around them, causing these.”
“Neat,” she marveled. She held it in her palms and stared at it intently before turning up at him. “Why does Auntie Velda want it so badly?”
“Does she now?”
“She says it’s for the Old Ways. What’s the Old Ways?”
“Ways we do not need, because we are friends with dragons, not their masters,” he frowned. “You shouldn’t listen to Auntie Velda when she says things like that.”
“How come?”
“It’s not coming from the right place in her heart.” Basil gestured above them, looking up at the dragons resting on ledges and amongst the cracks in the ceiling. “Auntie Velda sees things to control, as though they were normal animals. Mum and I know different—they’re the same as us.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I’m…”
Basil stopped as he looked down at his daughter; a lump formed in his throat as he saw her eyes were dead and glassed-over, and her neck bent in a peculiar position. He saw her collapse onto the cave floor, blood pooling around her.
“Forget about something, brother?!”
Turning back towards the ceiling, Basil saw that Velda had appeared, riding her dragon with all the haught and might he’d expected of her over the years. In the dragon’s mouth was his wife’s limp form, guts already gorged and limbs only half there. He opened his mouth in an attempt to curse his sister, yet no words came out.
No…!
Basil gasped as he woke, sliding off the chair onto the floor. Everything was in darkness as he was thrust back into reality—just as cruel yet differently so—and he fumbled to grab hold of the chair. He stood shakily and shook the nap from his limbs. That’s right… he was at home while his wife was away with their dragon.
“Aodh!” he called out. “Are you up from your nap?”
“Yes, Dad!” replied the clear, tiny voice. Based on the position of the chair and the direction of the voice he figured the boy was near the west window, coloring away. “You slept long.”
“Dad was tired,” he admitted. Basil walked over towards the window with his hand outstretched, finding the empty chair easily. He sat down and listened to the sound of his son drawing, taking solace in his company.
His son.
As normal as he knew it was for people to go blind, or be born as such, he could not help but feel a particular pain regarding his vision’s current state. He would never see his child grow into a proud young man, let alone see his drawings, and it hurt him deep inside. It had been nearly four years since he’d lost his vision and, although he had adjusted for the most part, there was still the fact that he felt so terribly alone, despite the fact he lived with his family…
...his second family, and although that modifier gave him strength, it also reminded him of what he once lost.
“You okay, Dad?” Aodh asked. “You look sad.”
“I was just thinking about someone from long ago,” Basil admitted. “Not to worry.”
“Dad… you wake up from naps shouting. Falling. Why?”
“I see in my dreams, but not when awake,” he said. He patted his son’s soft curls and frowned—the boy’s sister’s hair had been curlier, but that was so long ago now. “It’s very disorientating.”
“It sounds weird.” The clack of the pencil on the tabletop reached Basil’s ears and Aodh’s wee hands grabbed one of his. “Do you want to see my new drawing?”
“Yes please.” He let the boy trace his pointer finger along the pencil marks, outlining a dragon and four people. “That’s Idris, and Mum, and me, and you, and Uncle Danny! You can’t tell, but I gave him a really cool leg.”
“Not too cool, is it?”
“It looks like a dragon’s foot!”
“Then way too cool for your Uncle Danny,” Basil smirked. Aodh giggled in reply—got him. “How about if you get us some water?”
“Yes!” The chair scraped against the floorboards and Aodh scurried across the room to where the water pitcher sat. Basil knew he could get it himself, but that the boy loved helping, and help he would.
He would be helping far too much for far too long, the man feared.
“Here you go, Dad,” Aodh said. Basil felt his son ease a cup into his hand and he took a sip; yes, it was water from the pitcher Clara had left them with the day before. He could hear the boy slurping his water carefully, still not comfortable with adult-sized cups for himself. “Hey Dad?”
“Yes?”
“When’s Mum getting home?”
“Why? Is it that bad staying with just me?”
“No… I just miss her,” Aodh admitted. “Do you miss her too?”
“More than you realize,” Basil said. He reached out and stroked his son’s hair again. “Now, I need you to tell me about what’s going on outside the window, because I miss that too.”
Anything to distract the boy from the obvious, he figured, and he was alright with that.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
It was nearly noon as dragon and rider touched down on the rocky island, ready for rest and some exploring. Having alighted, Clara took off her helmet and glanced around, seeing that there was little trace of humans or dragons anywhere. Even with the mist crawling around the island with its wispy tendrils, it was still clear what was before them: no permanent settlement, human or otherwise. She took the map from her pocket, looked at it, compared to the two on the horizon—yes, they had stayed on-course—and placed it back in her scale-covered coat.
“Pretty quiet, isn’t it?” she wondered aloud. Idris snorted and looked at her rider incredulously—of course it was quiet, they were the only ones there. The dragon’s throat rumbled as it nuzzled against the human’s abdomen, reminding her of what was at risk. “Not you too; bad enough I have other humans scolding me about being out. Am I waddling yet? Do I look like I swallowed a football? Can I even be mistaken for something other than having a few extra helpings of mash now and then?”
The dragon snorted.
“Alright, then I’m fine.” She put her hand to her stomach, knowing the curve was just barely visible, only to her, her husband, and the dragon. “They’re okay. Let’s get this done and over with so we can get back home before Basil burns himself on the hearth again.”
Idris snorted and shook her head as she plodded forwards, taking the lead as they began to explore the small island. It was much like many of the others that she had been recharting the past few years, making new maps for comparisons against the old ones, and there was an odd sort of familiarity to it. They did not often find much in their travels—some rocks here, trees there, an odd-looking squirrel or rabbit out for blood every now and then—and oftentimes there was more to their maps than there were to the ones in the council’s hands. Too many generations had they concentrated on fighting dragons, so now that they were allies, there was room to find the inconsistencies that had previously no time for correcting.
Noticing a cave nearby, Idris and Clara went in to see how deep it went. There was already a freshwater spring and creek on the island; if there was adequate shelter of the permanent sort there as well, it could be used as a stopover point during trading runs. The opening could give way to most dragons, though it began to narrow as they went further, proving only a few were truly able to enter.
“Interesting…” Clara mused. She took the sword from her back and lit it, using the weapon as a torch while the light from outside grew dimmer. Idris insisted on using her snout for leverage as they investigated further, allowing her rider to use her for support in the uneven descent.
Before long, a cavity opened up, partially lit by an opening towards the ceiling. It was not large, but it was bigger than she thought, and it made her hopeful. A pool of water was on one end, while high rocks sat in the other. Clara touched a nearby rock and saw a waterline—it seemed inhabitable, if prone to flooding.
“Not bad,” she mused aloud. “I think this is one the chief is going to want to know about.” Idris purred lowly in agreement; the more useful they could prove themselves, the easier it would be to continue integrating humans and dragonkind in Berk.
Clara was just about to step further into the cave, however, when Idris hunched down and growled. She looked at the dragon, then the empty space she was glaring at, confused.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. Something shifted in the darkness, just barely visible in the torchlight. “Who’s there?!”
The sound of pebbles crunching beneath footfalls reached Clara’s ears and Idris moved herself to be in front of her. About twenty feet away, a dragon and rider shimmered into existence, the mount looking very much the same as Idris. The rider dismounted and stood erect, body language unsure of what they were seeing.
Another rider! A Dragon Lord’s mount! Clara saw that the other person was taller than her and lithely built, dressed in leathers and wools just as Basil had been when she first met him. A masked helmet obscured their face and they gripped a staff in their gloved hand.
“You’re not Velda,” Clara frowned. “Your build is too different—you’re too tall—who are you?”
The rider hesitated, mask hiding their face and any emotions that could have been thusly gleaned. Clara stared at them as her thoughts raced: who was this and why were they there?
“Are you…?” was all she was able to get out before the rider hopped back on the dragon and flew away, up towards the ceiling and squeezing out through the high opening.
Quickly, Clara went and remounted Idris, flying off in the direction of the other rider. Once outside the cave, she watched as they disappeared in the mist and vanished as though there had been no one there. The dragon sniffed around, attempting to get a hold of the scent, only for there to be nothing.
“You felt that too, didn’t you?” Clara marveled.
Idris snorted in agreement.
“There’s another Dragon Lord…” she mused aloud. She patted Idris’s side encouragingly. “Come on—we have to tell Basil.” The dragon grunted and took off, headed for Berk.
They needed to get home. Now.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
When all was said and done, Basil seemed to take the news fairly well. It was the following evening, after Clara and Idris had gotten in late and grabbed a sandwich roll for dinner. She had broken the news to him in their house; with Aodh climbing all over him as a distraction, it was more to take in than it should have been, and it was plenty still.
“Are you sure about that, Clara?” Basil asked. Aodh had settled on his father’s shoulders, with him holding the energetic boy in place by his legs. “You saw something real?”
“Why wouldn’t it be real?” she snorted, feeling somewhat insulted. “I saw it, didn’t I? Don’t you believe me? I’m not crazy.”
“I’m sure there have been plenty of other stable-minded individuals who have gone and hallucinated a Dragon Lord, not just caught a fleeting glimpse of me or a family member.” His eyes narrowed in thought. “We were legends for a reason—it’s easy to see us in shadows and smokes. I don’t blame anyone for letting their eyes and minds get tricked.”
“No, Idris saw them too,” she replied. “I doubt we’d both hallucinate the same thing.”
“Did you now?” Idris purred and nudged the Doctor’s arm with her muzzle. As his skin touched her scales, she projected to him what she felt—vague memories and approximations he had long-ago learned how to humanize. He nodded and Aodh began to bounce to attempt mimicking his father’s movement. “How curious… Clara, I need you to stay here.”
“Wait… what do you mean by that?” she frowned. “I’m the only one who’s seen this shadowy figure. Shouldn’t that mean that I need to be out there investigating?”
“I’d rather send Danny with some of the Stealth Riders,” he said. “We don’t know what this person’s intentions are, and I don’t want you or our child to be at risk.” He let go of one of Aodh’s legs so that he could touch her hip, reminding her of what was to happen—hopefully—before the snows. “Bravery is not the same as recklessness.”
“Except, there have been plenty of Berkian women who fought with and killed dragons while further along than I am now,” she rationalized. “Danny and I can do some scouting, take some of the Stealth Riders for good measure, but we need to investigate this. I mean… another Dragon Lord?! This is huge!”
“There are no other Dragon Lords, Clara,” Basil said. “There’s just me. The students here on the island will be able to confidently be called that one day, Aodh will one day, but until then… I’m the only one.”
“...except I saw compelling evidence contrary to such,” she stated. “We have to send out a search party, get into proper contact with this person. Weren’t there other Dragon Lord clans? Other factions? Dynasties? Tribes? Grumpy hermit relatives?”
“There were, but they all were wiped out…”
“...to your knowledge! They could be the last of another clan, and think of the knowledge they might be able to help you share! Things that could have died in your family and stayed in theirs!”
“Which is precisely why I don’t want you to get your hopes up!” Basil snapped. He placed Aodh down on the floor and it was clear that his heart was pained. Exhaling, he softened his tone as his son clung to his leg. “There were more Dragon Lords like Velda than there ever were of ones like me. Whomever this person is, it is more likely they would have aligned themselves with my sister before any of Berk.”
“You sure you know that for a fact?”
“I know that now.” His face twisted in anger, though she stood fast knowing the emotion was not directed at her. “Learn from my mistakes, Clara. We might be the Doctor, but the Doctor has already found out what fuels other Dragon Lords’ passion. Please, Clara, be brave, but don’t act rashly. I don’t want to lose you… I’m tired of losing people.”
He didn’t need to go into detail for her to know what he meant. She pressed their bodies together and placed her hand on his cheek, comforting him with her touch.
“You won’t lose me.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do, you daft old man,” she chuckled. She held him close, stroking his back gently. Down at her legs, she could feel her shins move closer to his thanks to his son attempting to hug them both at once. “How about if we all go to bed, hmm…? Aodh can even stay with us.”
“Yeah! Stay with Mum and Dad!” Aodh cheered. Clara smiled privately as she watched her son scurry up the stairs towards his room, while she led her husband up to theirs. Idris grunted from the corner of the main floor where she had her nest of rocks, bidding her humans goodnight before they vanished for the evening.
She knew she didn’t have to speak of the matter for the rest of the night. As she, Basil, and Aodh settled down in their bed for the night, Clara inherently knew her husband’s fear, while still acknowledging how there was so much she didn’t know. With their son between them they went to sleep, holding hands across the blankets, for tomorrow was a new set of worries.
#Whouffaldi#Clara Oswald#Twelfth Doctor#Whouffle#Twelve x Clara#Doctor Who#HTTYD!AU#fan fiction#Aodh Oswald#this AU has the occasional gall to dominate my thought processes some days#and that is very rude of it since it's not my only project
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Gold Beneath His Threshold
For @facialteeth Summary: Although Clary goes to Idris with her mother and it looks as though the only one with a promising love life is Alec, a certain demon decides th dip his finger into the parabatai pie and stir things up. Results do not disappoint.
Pairing: Jace Herondale / Alec Lightwood
A/N: I hope you like your gift 💙💙💙
Read it on ao3: HERE
It started in his childhood and it carried through into his young adult years. Alec became convinced he was a favourite of the angels, even though sometimes they had an odd way of showing it. One day when he was twelve, he found himself alone again, waiting for his mother in her office, having to receive punishment for his latest mess-up. He had gotten into a fight with an older boy who had been bullying him for months…. And he had won! He was shorter, smaller and younger, but he could take way more pain than the other boy. His bullying problem was now a thing of the past; the other kids kept their distance, knowing Lightwood was weird, but also willing and able to kick their asses. But for Maryse, that hadn’t been good enough. “We are Lightwoods, we don’t go around beating people up. There are other ways to solve conflicts! You are not thinking like a future leader, Alec!”
Later, it had been his father, calling him to his office to administer the punishment, and Alec had caught himself thinking, while he lay on his bed on his belly, because his butt and thighs were covered in red welts, that there would have to be one thing, one thing only, that made sense in his life. That made it all worth it - the humiliation, the being forgotten only to be remembered when he messed up even when he thought he did well, the hostility with which his own mother treated him, the feeling he was a mistake that should have never existed.
And the angels had replied right away. The next day, they sent him a ten year old boy - whom his parents decided to take in because he was Michael Wayland’s son, and Robert still felt guilty about his parabatai’s fate. From the moment Jace walked into the room where Alec trained, roasting his technique, Alec felt like he’d been given sunshine to carry in his pocket at all times. The boys became inseparable and soon Izzy was old enough to join them and keep up with Jace’s antics. Jace was beautiful and smart and loyal, and he made Alec laugh and smile so much his cheeks hurt every day, which was a blessing after the increasing number of punishments he had to endure, both for his perceived shortcomings and for being the eldest and letting Jace get the three of them in trouble. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Jace. He took pride in it. He would stand in his mother’s office, thinking “you can’t punish me as much as I can take, just watch.” But as time went by and they grew up, Jace also grew a spine for the three of them. He found it natural to talk back at Robert and Maryse, to question their orders and to tell them to back off when they picked either Izzy or Alec as an easier target for their brand of retaliatory discipline. It was getting ridiculous, he said. You can’t send soldiers out in the field and expect them to do a good job if they are still wincing from their butts being full of welts. Also, there was a certain age after which it was odd to want your teenage child to bare themselves for you to beat them.
And it worked, because Jace was also fluent in the language that abusive leaders used, violence, coercion, veiled or overt threats and blackmail. He had been raised by a far bigger monster than Maryse could ever aspire to be and although his father had tried to shape him into the perfect, unfeeling killing machine, Jace had always had an unbreakable compass which was impervious to bullshit, but still allowed him to play along and make his abusers wallow in a sense of control until it was time to strike. Alec felt overcome with a feeling he couldn’t quite identify whenever he looked at Jace. It was more than loyalty, maybe even more than devotion. He decided love covered it pretty well, but it was a big concept which contained all the facets of the feeling. Alec compared it to getting a really big box and going to the store, asking for a scoop of every flavour of ice cream. This was why it didn’t come as a surprise to him when, one day as he was sparring with Jace and the younger boy had gained the upper hand, sending Alec to the floor and straddling him to pin his arms to the floor above his head, a wave of desire crashed into him. Jace was above him, glistening with a sheen of sweat and panting, his golden hair sticking together in thick strands, damp with sweat. Jace looked feral for a moment, in prey to the adrenaline of the fight, but his eyes quickly shifted to reflect the warm affection he held only for Alec. For the older boy, it was as though someone had sucked all the air in the room out. Everything was amplified and his senses seemed sharper, he could hear Jace’s heartbeat and couldn’t look away from his bare chest, rising and falling with the staccato pace of his breathing; he became painfully aware of Jace’s now hard peak nipples and his eyes traced a droplet of sweat making its way down Jace’s chest until gravity forced it to fall onto his own chest. Also, their current position made it so that their cocks were crushed together in a distracting way. Alec closed his eyes briefly, letting the feeling wash over him. It made him buck beneath Jace and he made a pitiful sound, somewhere between surrender and panic. “Is this you tapping out?” Jace asked, adjusting his position, pressing his weight even harder into Alec. This did not help their dick situation and Alec felt himself harden. He nodded, unsure why he worried so much. This was Jace and Jace handed his ass to him all the time. Nothing special about the occasion. Jace freed his hands and got up, releasing Alec from his hold altogether. Alec stayed on the floor, sitting for a bit longer, wondering why being bested in combat put him into such a state this time around. But then Jace used the towel he had brought to wipe off his sweat, then threw it at Alec, expecting him to catch it and use it too. The towel hit Alec across the face. Instead of smelling like horse or old socks, like sweat usually did, Jace smelled like freshly baked bread, sunny summer days and everything that Alec associated with the feeling of joy. He barely caught himself and held back from burying his face into the towel and sniffing it like a cat with a valerian pillow. Not long after that, Jace asked Alec to be his parabatai and obviously, Alec said yes. Obviously, because he could not picture his life without Jace in it anymore and they were better together in every way. Jace had the courage and confidence when Alec struggled with them, and Alec had the strategic thinking and the protective nature where Jace was reckless and impulsive. *** They were considered grown men by Nephilim standards, but to mundanes and Downworlders, they were still young and inexperienced in many ways except killing and fighting. This was why so many mistakes were made when Clary and the tornado of events she brought crashed into their lives. For one reason or the other, Jace seemed to lose all touch with reality and support Clary on her wild chases, risking their lives, their standing with the Clave and pretty much everything else. Alec felt abandoned and forgotten again. He reminded himself that good things never last and allowed himself to go through a grieving process on fast forward, where at first he was angry at Jace and ended up resigning himself to having nothing and no one who cared about him in the way he needed. But he could not order his body or his emotions to fall in line with his new approach and that was the source of his constant pain. Pain which gave him the worst, darkest goggles to see life through. He didn’t see that Jace panicked and saw the whole Shadow World burn in front of his mind’s eye when it became clear that Valentine had the means and the opportunity to wipe out every Downworlder in existence with one wish. It was this desolate state Alec found himself in when he met Magnus Bane, the charming High Warlock of Brooklyn. Magnus did not have to give him attention, but he did. And he did not have to single him out and place him above everyone else, but he did that too. It felt good - of course it did - and Alec dared to smile again.
But Clary again muddied the waters. The way she was treating Jace was so entitled and impatient, bulldozing his needs and his past wounds just because she hadn’t been there to see him get them, so to her they did not matter that much. Soon, Jace was hurting again, and since no one had taught him how to deal with that, he put the entire blame onto himself. He and Clary were no longer a thing soon and Alec watched his carefully constructed routine crumble again. Izzy had broken up with Meliorn and was trying to mutilate her personality into becoming Maryse 2.0. Jace hadn’t slept a full night in weeks and cried himself to sleep at night, only to be woken by nightmares and his own screams.
Clary soon chose to move to Idris to be with her mother. Jocelyn thought they would be safer from Valentine there and, for once thinking like a true Shadowhunter, she wanted to take the heat off the New York Institute and make it obvious to the Clave that the Valentine problem was not some fiction made up by teens playing around with runes and angelic relics, but a very real and immediate threat.
Before Clary left, Izzy planned a small goodbye party in the Institute events hall. Clary gave each of them a present, to thank them for their help and friendship. To Jace, she gave two open-date tickets to the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, winking as she told him he would know when to use them. Jace hugged her and kissed her hair, the gesture looking more like what a big brother would do, rather than a lover. Clearly, that short chapter in their lives had not made the first edit. To Izzy, she gave a letter from the Iron Sisters. Jocelyn had used some of her old connections and had gotten Izzy an invitation to visit the place where all Shadowhunter weapons were made. Izzy started crying and hugged Clary, making her promise to visit and send a lot of fire messages. She even promised Clary to finally look into installing Discord on her phone so they could keep in touch more easily. Finally, to Alec, she gave a book, telling him it would answer his most pressing question for him when he got to the end. Alec looked at the book. It was “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho and he seethed inwardly. It was “Eat Pray Love” for people who had gone to college and Alec had heard about the book and its subject matter. He considered it a total wank, from what he’d heard. But Clary was leaving, so maybe, as a way of celebrating, he would ask Jace to let him use his tub and read the book front to back as a way to close the Clary chapter in their lives.
Life went back to normal after Clary and Jocelyn’s departure. Well. The new normal, where Alec was the only one of the three whose life and mental health were not falling apart. He found time to go on that date he and Magnus had kept postponing. It was not… unpleasant, and Alec learned several things about himself. One, he really didn’t do well with alcohol. And he didn’t care how childish it made him seem. Jace was the only person who didn’t constantly mock him for not liking to drink. Beer really tasted like ass. And so did tequila shots. Two, yep, he was gay. Magnus was super pretty. But, for whatever reason, he couldn’t picture himself doing anything more than hugging and holding hands with Magnus. He had already planted a smooch on the warlock, as an act of rebellion against his parents and the Clave at his almost-wedding to Lydia… but he hoped being in love didn’t involve bricking it before every time a show of physical affection happened. Although, in fairness, not all intimate acts had the entire Clave watching closely. Three, things were definitely going too fast and he had long lost control of the wheel. There was a madman intent on ending their entire world out there, Edom was gaining power, Seelies, Vampires and Werewolves were treating the Accords like a pamphlet and Warlocks were disappearing off to realms known only to them in preparation for the upcoming war. And there he was, Lieutenant Head of the New York Institute, getting his panties in a twist over the fact that a hot warlock wanted to take him home and fuck the living daylights out of him. Which, in any other circumstance, would have been perfection. But although his mind tried hard to reason with Alec, pointing out that “hey, someone wants to bang you. No one ever wants to bang you. Do you really want to die a virgin? Because you will die sooner than you will find someone again”, his body put the brakes on the whole thing. So, after their date, instead of going to the loft with Magnus, Alec told him he had an early morning meeting he had to prepare for. Upset by the perceived rejection, Magnus left, but not without making a polite exit. After all, he could understand cold feet. The reason he was so attracted to Alec was how special and rare of a creature he was. But he still left Alec with the tab. The cute bartender who had seen the whole exchange pointed to the tap and asked Alec, “looks like it’s not your night. Want another one, on the house?” Alec shook his head. “Can I have a peach Capri Sun instead?” He asked. Someone else took the seat Magnus had vacated next to him at the bar and pushed a hundred dollar bill across the counter to the girl. “Actually, I’ll have the alcohol once you give the child his sippy cup. Make it a Devil’s Margin, please.” Alec turned to look at the owner of that silky, dark voice. A tall man, dressed in black, everything designer and very expensive-looking, with an exceedingly attractive face and the tell-tale red glow in his eyes. A greater demon, Alec thought, freezing in his spot. He didn’t have any weapons with him, he had left them all at the wardrobe, glamoured, after Magnus had convinced him demons would not come crash their date. “Did your date not go your way?” the higher demon asked, smiling in a way Alec would have read as… friendly, If it had been anyone else. “What’s it to you? Since when do demons care what we do in our time off?” “Since I’m the demon of desire and everyone’s desires are my job.” The demon said. The bartender slid the Devil’s Margin in front of the stranger and smiled. The demon took a sip from the drink and smiled. “Excellent. Heavy on the alcohol, easy on the ginger ale. Just how I like it.” He said, producing another hundred dollar bill and handing it to the girl. “That’s all yours, baby girl.” Alec watched the young woman fluster and blush, stammering a thank you and going away. He always found it so miraculous when other men were able to charm their way through life’s little exchanges and situations. Jace would have done it even without the money, he thought, sizing up the man (demon) next to him. “Look. I’m not digging for trouble… for now. I’m just curious. Do you think the warlock you were seeing is hot, Alec Lightwood?” The demon asked, revealing to Alec he had done his homework before he’d popped up. “I will gladly answer all your nosy questions, demon, as soon as you tell me your name. Since you already know mine.” “All in due time. Is it that hard to admit, is he hot or not?” “Yes, he is, damn it. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone on a date with him, he’s been working so super hard to get me to go out with him. I never go out.” “Mmm, interesting.” “And again, what’s it to you?” Alec grumpily asked. If he was going to fry, he might as well get some answers first. “Well, my volatile little Nephilim, my name is Asmodeus, prince of hell, demon of desire and Magnus’ dad.” Alec gasped. Rationally, he knew warlocks were half demon, but he had always pictured the demon half involved one of those hideous creatures they slaughtered in dark alleys while on night missions. He had never considered the higher demons would wish to sire children with mortal women as well. And, looking at Asmodeus, it was easy to see where Magnus got his good looks and charm from.
“Are you here to tell me not to date your son?” Alec said. “Or to make sure that my Nephilim nature kicks in and does exactly that, to spite you?”
“No, not at all. I’m here to save everyone some heartache and to speed up some of my goals becoming reality.” Asmodeus said. “Do you want to date my son?” “Honestly? I don’t know. I… I might not get anyone else. And he is a good man, who’s showing me attention where everyone else is not. He would love me.” “He would watch you die after your short, violent little life. And then he’d mourn and move on. He’s immortal, Alec. You’re not.” “Yeah, there’s that. But isn’t every lasting relationship like that? Even in mundane marriages, someone dies first and is survived by their grieving partner.” “Mundanes have the comfort of thinking they get to meet each other soon.” Alec stared at his Capri Sun. “But that’s not all there is to it, is there?” Asmodeus pressed. “There’s something else holding you back.” “Yes…” Alec said, sighing. “Something stupid.” “Like the hmmm… allegedly unrequited love for your parabatai?” “Why are you even asking me, if you know everything?” Alec covered his face with his palm briefly. “This is embarrassing. I can’t… I can’t do this.” He added and made to get off the bar stool to leave. “No it’s not, and you can. Sit back down. I take desires really seriously. And I’m here to tell you it’s alright to be in love with your parabatai. You two do share a soul and I would be more surprised and disappointed if you two weren’t in love.” “But… why are you so intent on my not dating Magnus? Because that is your agenda, I can tell.”
“It’s because of how difficult it is to see things from an eternal perspective. No matter how much Magnus and you pretend it’s not an obstacle, it is. And I am trying to get Magnus to stop seeking for fleeting connection in various mortals and to finally turn his face back to me, his father. I cannot wait to give him my wisdom, my experience… my power. But I can’t do that if he is always running around trying to please this and that mortal.” “And you want me to turn Magnus down so you can show up for him? Why didn’t you do so before? Why didn’t you protect him and treat him well as a child?” “I was misguided and hurt. I wrongfully took out my anger and my pain on a child who didn’t ask to be here. And since then, Magnus has been running from me.” “Look. I don’t have the power to oppose you. But for some reason you seem to want to do it right this time. Listen to his wishes. He will come to you if he feels respected. It’s not that deep. I know one or two things about abusive parents. Once the trust is broken, and usually it’s broken over and over… it can’t be won back with a simple talk and a hug. It takes time to mend wounds that scarred over but never healed.” Asmodeus smiled at Alec and put his hand over Alec’s nearest one. “I knew you’d understand. As far as Nephilim go, you’re one of the wisest, even for your young years.” Alec looked at the demon’s manicured hand on top of his and for a second, his mind flashed him an image of Asmodeus draped over him in a bed with cool sheets, buried to the hilt inside him, holding his literal life in his hands, their fingers interlaced as they gripped the sheets and moved together… He shook his head. Asmodeus wasn’t playing. He really was the demon of desire.
“Don’t you just wish that was the Herondale boy?” Asmodeus laughed knowingly.
“Wayland, but go off.” “Oops. I guess I shouldn’t have said that.” Asmodeus said with a wink. “But anyway. I wanted to talk to you not to dissuade you from dating my son, but to tell you that you’re bullshitting yourself. Sure, Magnus is wonderful and he would love you and everything. But you’re not in love with him. And I thought I’d spare you and Magnus a few years of heartache and suffering alone and in secret because you let things heat up too fast and then it was too late to say anything. You would so do that. Admit it - if not to me, then to yourself.”
“I… you’re right.” Alec said, taking a sip of his juice. “Too bad Jace doesn’t love me back.” Asmodeus rolled his eyes. “He does. And I know you won’t believe what the old demon said, but just… ask him. Ask him what is in those nightmares that keep him up at night. Oh, and… ask for one kiss. It will tell you all you need to know.” Alec looked away. He had come a long way, he could pass for a great leader on many days, but asking for a kiss? From Jace? That needed working up to. “You have to risk it for the biscuit.” Asmodeus said, shrugging. “Or, in terms you Nephilim folk prefer, no pain, no gain.” Alec winced. He was trying to change that. Everyone outside the Nephilim society laughed at them and called them primitive for abusing their children to turn them into soldiers and for burning their own people for even the slightest mistake, until their numbers were dwindling. It felt like an uphill battle, but he knew it could be done. Unless the Clave really wanted to drive their race to extinction. “Thanks for the insight… I guess?” Alec said and took a sip of his drink. When he looked to his side, Asmodeus had vanished, leaving behind only a veil of very high end Moroccan blend perfume, something with sandalwood, crushed rose petals and ylang-ylang.
Alec shivered. He’d survived meeting Asmodeus. And in theory it wasn’t a big deal, he’d killed greater demons before without thinking much of it, but Asmodeus was different. He was Magnus’ dad. He could have been his father-in-law, which would have made Easter lunches very awkward, for starters.
He paid what he owed to the bartender and she smiled as she cashed him in. “Straighten your crown and go get’em. You’re a cutie, it’ll all work out for you.” She said. Alec sighed. “Thanks. There’s nothing about me that can be straight… but I appreciate the sentiment.” He got his weapons and coat from the wardrobe and went back to the Institute. On the way back, he was stopped by some unsavoury mundanes who wanted to mug him. Alec asked himself what Jace would do, and what would make Magnus cringe the least. He ended up breaking all those men’s arms and legs and walking away while feeling a huge sulk taking him over. To top it all off, it started to rain.
Soaked to his skin, now he really wanted that hot bath with a book. When he went up to Jace’s room, it was empty and Alec decided it would hurt no one if he did run himself that hot bath and read the book from Clary. As he gingerly lowered himself into the tub, the exhaustion and the stress of the past month hit him at full force. He closed his eyes and let the heat and the pine scent of the water seep into his bones and mind, relaxing him. Now he was starting to see why Jace loved to take baths so often. He opened “The Alchemist” and started reading. He found the book easy to read through, since he was used to far longer and bigger volumes. The start didn’t impress him much, but by the time he got through the first twenty pages, he was hooked. The ending moved him to tears and it made him think of his own situation. He was also sitting on a treasure, ignoring it because of preconceived ideas on how treasures had to appear and be revealed. It was how Jace found him, crying in the bath, the foam having dissolved almost completely. Jace ran over to him and knelt next to the tub, hugging Alec at once and kissing his forehead worriedly. “What’s wrong, parabatai? What happened?” Jace asked, running his hands through Alec’s wet hair and smoothing it back. Alec looked at Jace through his tears and he sighed. The surge of love and awe he felt just from seeing Jace again (and it had only been a few hours since he’d last seen him, at breakfast) was enough to tell him that Asmodeus had been a hundred percent right. He was so deeply, desperately and irreversibly in love with Jace, there was no use lying to himself and thinking it was wiser to stay away. Sure, giving in and admitting his love to Jace might bring some heartache, maybe some punishment too if they were found out, but at least they’d have each other. And he would have the one person he had loved from the day they’d met.
Alec took in Jace’s appearance. While he had been caught in the rain, Jace had been lucky and his clothes and hair were dry. He had gone and gotten his haircut refreshed, and it looked so incredibly good on him. Jace also wore a white shirt that subtly outlined his pecs and abs and tight jeans with his designer boots.
“The book was sad.” Alec said, feeling silly for saying the first thing that popped into his mind. It was a childish reason to give; they were Shadowhunters, they witnessed tragedy on an individual and global scale regularly. Jace smiled and ran his fingers through Alec’s hair again, leaning close and kissing his temple. He also looked down at the discarded book. He knew it was the book Clary had given Alec and he also knew the plot. He had read it a while ago while waiting to meet a cute Seelie in a bookstore. “Did your date with Magnus not go so well?” He asked, even though it pained him. Jace knew it wasn’t classy to be this petty, but Magnus having come onto the scene had changed his life for the worse by introducing the idea of competition for Alec’s love and attention… and the prospect of him losing. Until recently, no matter how shitty the rest of his life was, he always knew he had Alec’s full attention, devotion and affection. Jace had been in love with Alec for a while now, and he had woken up one day overwhelmed with love for his shy and reserved parabatai after thinking for a long time that he was the straightest person in the entire Shadow World. Loving Alec was easy, because Jace wore a mask for everyone else and with Alec he didn’t need to. And even though Alec was very withdrawn and private, he reserved the best parts of himself for Jace, who had always needed to be seen and prioritised by someone. Now, with Magnus in the picture, he could see himself losing all of that and being demoted to “one of the others’’ in favour of the boyfriend. He had already begun to resign himself to having lost the best and brightest part of his life. He had made it a part of his outward performance to be seen with many women and girls of all races, mundanes and Downworlders alike, but he could not bring himself to like or even open himself up at least a bit to anyone, in an unspoken (even to himself) hope of one day gathering his guts and telling Alec how he felt. But his father’s words rang in his mind. The way he saw it, “to love is to destroy” only worked if the love was expressed, fulfilled and returned. If it was just things one felt in secret and suffered from, it was fine. Only now it was all lost. Alec was in love - with Magnus. And Jace didn’t blame him. Magnus had the balls to announce his feelings directly. Normally, he would have been this confident too. But he didn’t think he was worthy of Alec’s love. He felt that Alec would be getting a bad deal with him as a boyfriend. He was neither rich, nor powerful or famous. And Alec deserved to be treated like a king, not late night dates at Mickey D’s, eating McRibs with ichor-stained hands.
Lost in his little cinematic sad story inside his head, Jace didn’t notice Alec watching him and smiling. “Actually the date with Magnus was great. I came back here after because it didn’t feel right to go to his place after.” “Why not?” Jace pushed, feeling a masochistic need to hear more about the ways in which Alec was slipping away from him. “You like the guy.” Alec looked at him pointedly and raised an eyebrow. “Jace. You know very well I don’t like anyone. And I only love you.” He said, his voice becoming tinier as he got to the word “love”.
Jace’s eyes shot up to look at his parabatai. “It’s always been you, Jace.” Alec said, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “In another world, if I were any bit more different, I’d be strong enough to let the outside pressure get to me and move on, but I just don’t know how to be without you and I don’t want to either. I’ve been in love with you, in many ways that grew along the way, since the moment you walked into that training room and roasted my archery skills. I know to others I am weak for being so attached and needy, but… I don’t know how not to be, when it comes to you.”
Jace’s eyes were swimming in tears by the time Alec paused. He was still kneeling near the tub, one hand buried in Alec’s wet curly hair, the other holding one of Alec’s hands. He kissed the back of the hand he was holding, then lightly kissed each finger. “I feel the same. I was so torn, Alec. You deserve the best things ever and I’m not that. I’m broken. I thought you’d be happy with Magnus, but selfishly, I hated the thought of losing you.” It was Alec’s turn to caress stray strands behind a delicate ear. “We’re broken along the same lines. Like shards of a mirror that show the same image when you put them together.” Alec said. “The reason I was crying is because Clary knew exactly what I needed to hear. Like the guy in this book, I don’t need exotic travels and treasures beyond imagining. All I need is right here with me.”
When their lips finally met, it was with no hesitation and no fumbling. Once they had made up their respective minds, there was no holding back for either of them. “I want everything, Jace. And I want it with you.” Alec said in a heated voice, sounding breathless and overcome with excitement. “Then come, let me show you,” Jace said, feeling a lump of emotion form in his throat, making it hard to speak. Seeing Alec’s courage to say how he felt had made him go all in as well. In just a second, his indecision and his fears and worries had vanished like fog under the sun. But even though the emotions were positive and bursting forth from his soul like sunbeams, he still felt tears well up and spill down his cheeks. One word, one sign of reassurance had been enough. They were both getting what they wanted but had not dared to ask for. Alec briefly thought of Asmodeus and his knowing smirk, but then he felt Jace lift him easily from the tub and wrap him in a big towel, not doing too good a job drying him before he carried him, bridal-style, to the adjacent bedroom. He squeaked at being carried, but he still clung to Jace and rested his head on Jace’s shoulder, enjoying the attention from his parabatai. Jace hadn’t considered sleeping with a man, whether mundane or otherwise, but he found that Alec felt as familiar as he did to himself, and everything came naturally to him, especially since he was focusing on making sure Alec had a pleasurable first time. In fact, it was their first time and it could only be amazing, like everything they did as a pair.
He undressed hurriedly and unselfconsciously, feeling himself harden when Alec watched him greedily, his desire increasing with each item that came off.
Alec looked like sin made flesh on Jace’s bed, naked and hard, panting and watching Jace, biting his lower lip and reaching for his parabatai.
“You’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jace decreed, giving his cock a loose stroke, his eyes raking over Alec’s bared form before he got onto the bed and scooted next to Alec, flinging a leg over him and straddling him. “And you’re mine. I’m going to make you forget other men exist.” He reached over to Alec with two fingers, running them down the middle of his forehead, over his nose and further down to his lips.
Alec gasped and opened his mouth, his plush lips wrapping themselves around the roving fingers and dragging along the soft skin. Jace felt himself leak a sticky trail onto Alec’s cock beneath him from how enticing Alec looked, sucking his fingers unabashedly, rolling his hips up to rub against Jace and wanting to wring every drop of pleasure from the moment. Jace found he could no longer hold back and he leaned forward, his lips finding Alec’s. They again fused into one, their souls merging and flowing from one into the other and then back, in a loop. “Shit, if kissing is this intense, I won’t survive being inside you.” Jace said, nipping on Alec’s chin, on the spot he had the scar in. “Worth it. Can’t think of a better way to go.” Alec gave back, bringing his arms up so he could indulge in something he’d wanted to do since forever - running his hands greedily all over Jace, fingers carding through his hair, tracing his vertebrae as they descended, straying to his sides, his pecs, then his hips and then his ass. Alec felt ravenous - as though he couldn’t get Jace close enough, soon enough. He arched into Jace’s mouth and wailed at the sensation as his parabatai bit, then sucked a massive bruise into his deflect rune. “Jace, I can’t… I’ll go fucking insane if you’re not inside me soon. We can explore later.” Alec demanded. Jace looked down at their engorged and leaking cocks, rubbing against each other. “Um… normally I should open you up slowly. It’s a really small hole. Can you wait?” “I’ve been waiting since I was fucking fifteen. Get thee in me - preferably today.” “Look, if I use runes, it might still sting.” “I’m a Shadowhunter. Let’s see those runes.” “Alec, are you sure? It’s your first time… it might hurt.” “Do I look like I care? I get to have you for the rest of my life. Every time will be as special as a first time.” Jace smiled, relenting at the passionate words. This was 100% his Alec. Hesitant and overthinking while weighing his choices, all in once he made up his mind. He allowed himself to fantasize about a life of belonging to Alec and to Alec only, and of Alec being his in the same way. He felt his heart fill up to the point of overflowing with love and he knew he wanted nothing else. Even if it was a short and perilous life, even if their destiny as soldiers against the realms of hell cleaved their trajectory through the world before it had reached its end point, it would be a life lived in the completeness of their bond, made stronger by their love. He felt Alec’s burning gaze on him when he got out of bed to get his stele. While he retrieved it from his trousers, he wondered if, once Alec and him became one in every sense of the word, he would be able to activate Alec’s runes too with only his intention. Only one way to find out. Using the combination of runes he knew from Isabelle on her brother felt like the naughtiest and at the same time most rewarding sex thing he’d ever done thus far, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was so hot, watching and feeling his soon-to-be lover’s body become accommodating for him. Even the slight pain, which he could feel in the bond, was amplifying his aroused anticipation, as he watched Alec squirm and arch under the burn of the runes - which soon turned pleasurable, wringing a debauched moan from Alec.
“Please, Jace. I’m ready.” Alec said, sucking his reddened and glistening lower lip into his mouth briefly, looking up at Jace with feverish eyes.
Jace couldn’t have resisted if he tried. He knelt between Alec’s eagerly parting legs, taking the time to check if the runes had taken and if his parabatai was relaxed enough. He stroked two fingers over Alec’s opening and found it warm and pleasantly slick, which reassured him enough to delve inside. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of Alec’s tight walls squeezing down on his fingers, picturing what that would feel like around his cock. With his other hand, he gave his cock a few strokes, spreading the droplets of precome drooling from the tip and bringing it up against Alec’s entrance, pressing in while removing his fingers. Alec closed his eyes and arched off the sheets as the head of Jace’s cock stretched him further than he had thought possible. Jace took one of his hands and squeezed it, bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “Breathe - deep and slow. It’ll help.” He whispered, before leaning down to kiss Alec while still pushing in. He could feel the same burn his parabatai felt in his body and he wondered at the force of Alec’s need for him. There would be so many other times when they could live out all their desires and fantasies, but for now it was about Alec and what he wanted. “Fuck, Alec. You are so tight it’s unreal.” Jace said when he bottomed out. He was now buried to the hilt inside his parabatai and the bond flared between them, its flame switching from pale blue to bright gold. Both boys got hit by the intensity of the transmutation. Their bond was now something different, stronger and new in a way they couldn’t have anticipated. They had both been warned by the Silent Brothers at their ceremony not to fall and commit Eros, lest they draw the angels’ wrath and the parabatai curse onto them. But, as time passed and they grew up, they had both learned the curse was a scaretale used to enforce the Clave’s disapproval of same sex relationships and to secure Clave control over parabatai pairs and their abilities as warriors. He Clave wanted them good, but not too good.
“Do you feel… that… too?” Jace asked in awe.
“Yes, I do. I feel you, as a part of me.” Alec said breathlessly. “Please, move. I want it all.” Jace propped himself up on his hands on Alec’s chest and started to move, picking up pace quickly. “Angels, Alec.You feel divine.” Jace whispered. His entire world had narrowed down to Alec beneath him. But even that wasn’t enough and he sat back on his heels, pulling Alec up in his lap until they were wrapped around each other, their limbs woven together like the petals of a lotus. Jace had never really enjoyed a connection with someone before here and now, with Alec. Sex had always been yet another performance to persuade the world that the great Jace Wayland was as perfect and as unattainable as they wanted him to be, the fantasy superhero all of Idris wanted to believe in and parade as an example. If he could have had his choice, he would have not shared his body with anyone unless he felt drawn to do so. But as it were, everyone else had always seen him as a shiny trinket to collect, a fetish to experiment with, a fantasy to conquer. All but Alec. “Jace! I’m c-close.” Alec pressed out while the force of Jace’s upward thrusts into him bounced him on Jace’s lap. “Come with me!”
Jace nodded with a growl and changed their position again, having them lie down face to face, up close and still entwined as they’d been just moments before, with Alec’s legs encircling his hips. It wasn’t a comfortable position they could hold for long, but it brought them close together and Jace loved that he could rest a hand on Alec’s neck and pull him close for a possessive kiss. A silent understanding passed between them, the same intent reflected in both sets of eyes. They came at the same time, each letting go easily while knowing the other would be right there too. After that night, Alec discovered that Jace could practically go on forever, but, considerate as he was, he did stop when Alec became physically unable to keep up. And Jace was also an attentive lover, apparently, either as a rule or just for him, Alec didn’t care, since he currently couldn’t feel his body beyond the burn in his ass and the deep fatigue, neighbouring numbness, that had taken over his limbs. But Jace fed him pineapple gummibears from his secret stash (if that wasn’t love, nothing was, Alec thought, knowing how territorial Jace was of those gummibears). Jace discovered that he could, in fact, activate Alec’s runes with his intention, something which turned Alec on like mad and which made their night’s activities stretch until late in the morning. Once they finally dragged themselves under the shower, Jace remembered his gift from Clary. “I need to take you on a proper date, to make this official. Museum of Modern Art sound good to you? The Dicks in Design exhibit is in town.” “If I want to see a big dick for free, all I need to do is look your way. Let’s just go and stare at the art.” Jace opened his mouth to clap back, but he couldn’t think of anything. Couldn’t object against facts, although what kept him from feeling smug was the ambiguous phrasing. Had Alec meant he had a big dick? Or that he was a big dick?
*** The evening had just begun and Pandemonium was buzzing with excitement. This date marked the return of Magnus Bane to the club scene. The moment he had seen Alec again after their one date, Magnus had known Alec would never be his. And then he had seen Jace and the massive change in him, in the way the two parabatai looked at each other, in the way the energy in the room changed and thrummed around them. He could not begrudge the two Shadowhunters the refuge they had found in each other. Being parabatai in their time was difficult and it was a small blessing they could be everything for each other like that. He couldn’t say he was mourning that which had never been. He had a new girlfriend now and his father was making an effort to be a slightly more tolerable demon and an actual parent to his only son. Magnus had a family now and it made him feel like he finally belonged. Now he was observing Alec and Jace on the dance floor below. Alec had never struck him as a big lover of fun, partying and much less dancing. But what he was currently doing was hardly a dance. He and Jace were just grinding against each other to the beat of the music, lost in each other like they were the only people in the club. They were both dressed in white and the hostesses at the club entrance had dabbed glitter on them, like they did with all the guests that night, only Jace and Alec looked downright heavenly, sparkling in the bluish-white light.
Then, Magnus’ eye was drawn to the VIP booth, where his father stood at the window, watching the couple below with the tiniest smile fluttering on his lips. Magnus shuddered, remembering Asmodeus was the demon of desire and his powers grew off of people giving into their secret and forbidden passions. He didn’t put it past his father to have stuck his finger in the parabatai pie. His concerns only intensified when Alec suddenly looked up, saw Asmodeus, waved and smiled. (the end)
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All the homages to Tom Hiddleston in the ME! music video
This may seem outdated now that TS8 has arrived, but I’ve been working on this post for a long time, and after a listen to Folklore, I think it’s still a bit relevant ;)
I wanted to share some Easter eggs we unearthed while doing an archaeological excavation of the ME! music video.
I know what you’re thinking...that video came out over a year ago! Aren’t those Easter eggs a little rotten from sitting out there this whole time?
Don’t fret, dear reader. The eggs were well preserved like bread baked in Pompeii just before Mt. Vesuvius blew. That is to say, these Easter eggs pointing to Taylor’s undying love for Tom (who can blame her!) are both deeply buried and in shockingly plain sight.
Our journey into the excavation all started with this:
I was watching this video and noticed the jaguar sculpture on the desk and just about died because I will always associate jaguars with Tom Hiddleston’s ad campaign for them. The ads contain three of Taylor’s favorite things: London, cats, and Tom Hiddleston. I’m not sure what her feelings are on luxury cars, though of course she referenced the commercial on reputation (jag-you-ars.) You can watch them here, but be forewarned--you may feel weak in the knees by the end. You may also be triggered by seeing a human interacting with a big cat (I can’t be the only one who feels scarred by Tiger King...)
After this, I watched the ME! video again and saw one reference to Tom after another.
The living room scenes remind me of a Gucci ad campaign Tom in...fall of 2016. Oh. Seems significant.
1. Why those shoes. 2. How does he not have dog hair on his suit. 3. This very ad hung on my fridge for a month. 4. The color scheme and mod feel of this photo shoot feel very similar to the ME! living room. Taylor even included her own two animals (who are somewhat similar in color to these glamorous pooches.
Here’s another image from the Gucci campaign:
The suit Brendon wears while watching out the window, to me, mimics the suit Tom is wearing above. Not incidentally, the jaguar statue is at Brendon’s elbow. And you’ll notice that the pinkish pillow behind Tom’s right shoulder is basically the same color and texture as the sofas in the ME! living room.
Let me also note that all of the rooms above featured shades of green associated with Loki.
Well, that was fun. Let’s do some more.
The hallway Grace Kelly Taylor walks through at the beginning of the video always puzzled me. It was one of those things that stuck out but I couldn’t say why. Well, I wondered if it represented a place TS had been. I guess so because here is an interior shot of part of the Vatican Museums in Rome:
I saw this and just about fainted. Taylor and Tom visited the Vatican while in Rome in summer 2016. They were heavily papped, unfortunately. I can’t imagine how miserable that would have been, but they also did look very happy together. I get little heart eyes and then cry for Taylor (and Tom), praying for her happiness while listening to New Year’s Day. I might also mention she wore blue kitten heels, remarkably like the pink ones in this portion of the video.
Now this is a find I’m truly proud of...here’s an interesting tie Tom wore many moons ago. And I really mean many moons ago because there are only these sad tiny photos you get when someone cropped a VHS recording they took of that time your were on TV in 2010.
First, what a great tie, and can I get a sundress made out of it too because I just really love floral prints. But besides that, I mean, I’m just getting some deja vu...
And the color scheme shows pretty well (along with the silky texture) in Brendon’s most excellent costume at the Billboard awards (which I would also like a dress of):
And there’s that whole Mary Poppins reference with Brendon teetering down from the sky on an umbrella. I couldn’t help but be reminded of this odd but somewhat talked-about short film “Leading Lady Parts” that Tom had a role in. The basis of the plot being that he wins all the leading female roles in movies because other women can’t live up to Hollywood’s (or whatever the British equivalent of Hollywood is) standards. So at the end of the film, a character walks past a series of posters where Tom has been photoshopped into famous female roles, including...
Something you’ll never unsee, I know.
Okay, the next part needs its own whole SECTION.
Thor Ragnarok References
So partway through Taylor and Tom’s midsummer��s night dream, Tom started filming for Thor Ragnarok, one of Marvel’s greatest gifts to mankind, in Australia. The finished film came out on Nov. 3, 2017, just seven days before reputation.
To start with, the color of Loki’s costume shows up quite a bit:
Beyond this, Thor: Ragnarok takes place on two alien planets: Asgard (Thor and Loki’s home) and Sakaar (a bizarre planet where intergalactic trash is dumped and Jeff Goldblum holds gladiator-style games.)
Sakaar looks a little like this:
An odd pastel palette splashed on a sea of grays. Detritus and occasionally people (notably, Thor) fall from holes in the sky. Also, notice the sky has a strange refracted nature to it that is seen in the ME! video.
So we have another scene of people falling from nowhere down to a sea of pastels and gray with a pink refracted sky.
The sky behind His Lordship Jeff Goldblum in Ragnarok is the best pic I can find of Sakaar’s sky.
Let’s move on to a more exciting one:
One of the movie’s main characters, Valkyrie, rides a gray pegasus (unfortunately not a pegacorn)
The pegacorn Taylor sits on has a rather peculiar eye that evokes Thor’s when he’s in lightning mode:
Valkyrie also has a totally dope cape (so do a lot of characters, but we’ll focus on her):
Which reminds me of Taylor’s cape in the marching band scene:
And the rainbow leading up to the kaleidoscope where Taylor and To--er, Brendon dance? If you’ve watched any Thor movie, you probably remember the long almost-translucent rainbow bridge that stretches from the bifrost to Asgard.
So as you see above, the bifrost leads to a room where Idris Elba controls the bifrost bridge. It look a bit like the kaleidoscope room Taylor and Brendon end up in:
To top things off, Taylor and Brendon’s suits really evoke that old school country feel that stars like, I don’t know....Hank Williams would wear (rest in peace.)
Finally, the hotel lobby resembles the interior of the Asgard palace, but I can’t find good pictures and this has taken me hours.
In conclusion, Taylor is brilliant, love is cruel, ME! is a fantasy fever dream, and Tom is worth the fight. Hopes, thoughts, prayers.
#taylor swift#me#me!#me! music video#me! taylor swift#hiddleswift#tom hiddleston#thor ragnarok#pure brilliance
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Random Brightwell Scene I wrote while listening to “Sleeping Alone” by Lykke Li under quarantine
For some reason the text didn’t save the first time, so another attempt! Also sorry for not putting read more break, apparently that doesn’t exist on the mobile app, and you can’t edit app post on desktop. 🤦🏽♀️
I recommend listening to the song during the dancing bit, it’s linked below. k, thanks! :D
The Brooklyn rooftop bar where the summer get-together was being held was all industrial-chic, large metal lamps hanging from chains and exposed pipes, spruced up by rooftop trees or potted plants, decked out with lights and greenery, wood accents and wicker lounge settes and chairs scattered prettily with cozy neutral cushions. The lower New York skyline surrounded by the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge was the view as the sun sat lower in the horizon, true hipster haven. Not what he pictured when he was invited by Gil. Apparently, an annual thing major crimes did together. He scanned the area and found familiar faces.
Edrisa looked happy chatting away with some techs from her team. His eyes drifted to JT and Tally whispering to each other making each other smile, then there she was rolling her eyes with a smile at their affections.
She wore a delicate cap-sleeved red summer dress peppered with small white daisy detail that ended around her knees, it fit her form perfectly, the arches of her breasts encased subtly. A pair of sandy-colored boots that ended at her ankles. Her curls seemed even fuller tonight, those dainty gold necklaces and rings completed the look as her sunkissed skin seem to glow. She looked different from her usual office attire, she looked relaxed, almost carefree.
She was enchanting. He felt that similar thump to his chest, his mouth felt dry, and suddenly he didn’t know if coming tonight was a good idea. It was the warm hand on his shoulder that jolted him from his thoughts and he tore his eyes away from her to turn to see Gil standing next to him with two beers in his hand and a smile on his face.
He knew how everyone around him led fairly normal lives, but seeing everyone here just being calm and normal enjoying each other’s company, the warm summer air, the music, and harmonious chatter made him feel almost out of place. It all felt unattainable and surreal.
“Here Kid, you look like you need a drink,” Gil said patting his shoulder. Malcolm realized that while he was a gifted profiler, Gil had experience and age on him. He chuckled softly and took the offered beer bottle and took a swig.
“Thanks,” he scanned the crowd again, “this a good turn out, everyone seems to be having a good time.”
Gil nodded looking around proud of the setup. “It’s not often that we get to take a break and have a moment to just enjoy life and be grateful that we have it. These moments, they’re what keeps us from losing it when you see continuous horror.”
“I get that,” he said taking another sip of his beer, he did get it, but it was so different from what he was used to. Was there ever going to be enough moments where the horrors that he lived with daily dissipate?
“You just have to allow yourself to let some light and good in,” Gil said as if reading his thoughts. “For a start, I’m glad you came, whatever the reason maybe.” With that, he walked away and engage a group of officers, Malcolm smiled quietly to himself, of course, Gil would pick on it. He wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that he drifted to her in any given situation.
He walked over to where Dani, JT, and Tally stood, one hand tucked into his casual linen trousers, the other holding the beer, letting the coolness ground him to reality. He decided to leave his Bond villain white stripe ensemble at home this time, opting for the white trousers and a light blue chambray shirt. He could hear Tally sharing something about marrying strangers.
“It’s crazy, these girls are just marrying dudes that they spoke to through walls? Asked JT.
“Well yeah, the whole point is that love is blind. It’s not what you see but feel.” Tally said. “Malcolm, what do you think?” Tally reminded him of Jackie sometimes, wholesome and inclusive.
“Uh…”
Before he could start JT intervened with a “that seems dumb, reality tv is such a scam,”
Tally playfully smacked JT’s arm, “I asked Malcolm!”
Dani snickered softly at the couples exchange, her eyes drifting to Malcolm often. He looked so casual, summery even. She supposed this is what he wore to go to the Hamptons to lounge around his family’s summer house. It was both easy and hard to forget that Malcolm came from money. She didn’t expect him to come, but couldn’t help but be happy he did.
“Ow, woman!” JT laughed. “Alright Bright! Enlighten us!”
“Malcolm!” Edrisa bounced over and smiled her full-on Colgate smile at him.
“Edrisa, Malcolm is about to tell us what’s important physical attraction or personality” Tally filled her in.
“Well, we like to think of romantic feelings as spontaneous and indescribable things that come from the heart. But it's actually your brain running a complex series of calculations within a matter of seconds that's responsible for determining attraction,” he started and right away the group responded. JT groaned, Edrisa bounced in agreement, Tally nodded her head in fascination and Dani rolled her eyes.
He continued “in fact, all five senses play a role, each able to vote for or veto, a budding attraction,”
“That why when someone smells amazing, you feel that jolt?” asked Tally excitedly,
“Exactly, all of these things determine whether a person will be a suitable fertile partner, we’re quite primitive. So I suppose that if you were to take away the biological needs and put them in a situation where it was a matter of intellectual and emotional compatibility a person could grow fonder, but I think the physical attraction is also important.”
“Says every guy ever,” mumbled Dani.
“What do you think Dani? Would you date a guy for looks or personality?” Tally asked grinning.
Dani curved her lips to the side and rolled her eyes, “I think personality is important, I mean he can look like Idris Elba but that won’t save him if we can’t have a decent conversation.”
“But would you be able to be with him if he were disfigured?” Malcolm challenged.
“I like to think I’m not superficial, if I connected with him emotionally, don’t know that it would bother me.” she threw back. “Besides, good looking guys can be damaged too, doesn’t mean they are throwaways or keepers.”
The tension fizzled in the air as Dani defiantly stared Malcolm down. It was the clearing of throats that broke them from their wordless conversation.
“Think I’ll go grab us more drinks,” Edrisa grinned avoiding the tension on the raise, she liked Malcolm but Dani was scary.
Dani’s lopsided grin and Malcolm’s full-on smile told the group they were gearing up to have another productive banter session, something that seemed to be happening a lot lately as JT told Tally in passing while talking about his day, to which she pressed her lips together and nodded knowingly and commented that it was probably sexual tension. JT watched his colleagues with squinted eyes, maybe Tally was right?
“Ok, before this gets out of control, let me take this beautiful woman dancing,” JT took his wife’s hands and dragged her to the dancefloor in the center of the bar. It was getting to be that time of the night when everyone was slowly getting intoxicated, the twilight was setting in the bustling lights from the city was becoming more prominent making for an even more spectacular ambiance. While the summer breeze brought liveliness.
“It’s a good thing, Diaz’s brother is the manager here, couldn’t have gotten a better venue,” Dani stated suddenly, stirring her drink, bobbing her head to the music.
“Yea, it’s nice,” he said in agreement, trying not to let her scent distract him. What was it jasmine and yalang yalang?
“I’m sure you’ve seen better parties” she smiled, “debutante balls, galas, and whatnot.”
He chuckled, “oh yea, that’s the norm, everyone was clamoring to invite the serial killer family to parties.”
She looked at him then, every so often she was reminded of the full implications of what Martin Whitley’s actions did to his family. That even with the prominence, there were social isolations that were stricter for his class of people. She hated the pain behind his self deprecating humor.
“You should give Edrisa a dance, you’ll make her night and it is a party.”
He smiled softly, “Yea, I guess so.” rubbing the back of his neck, she knew how to level off. Knew how to defuse him.
Dani laughed softly and honestly, he wished he could hear it more. “Live a little Bright, if you’re gonna lose sleep, might as well have a bit of fun doing it.”
“How can I get used to How can I forget you Will I get used to Sleeping alone”
Live a little, why not? He should, he should let himself have moments. Moments that will shield him from the loneliness, from the dark. Moments where he can have a fighting chance. As his brain worked through this for a few seconds, his eyes caught Jackson walking towards them with a purpose, a smile on his face for Dani. Officer Adam Jackson who shamelessly flirted with Dani, who smiled at her constantly and lingered around her desk or at the break room. The occasions when she paid Jackson a bit of attention, brought an unpleasant taste to his mouth. Malcolm didn’t know what happened next but it became a blur of movements. He saw Jackson stop and stare in their direction.
“Tomorrow is a long time Forgetting so long I loved you a lifetime I loved you long”
He took her hand slowly pulling her closer, eyes on her, the music wafted through them, around them. His name almost spilled from her lips in protest but caught at the back of her throat, instead, her hands fell around his shoulders. She let him lead her, her mind drifted to that night when he was so high he ran towards her and swept her up in his arms. Lips curving to a smile, that was the night they decided to be friends, the night she decided to try to trust him. She swayed with him, the words of the song pulling at something within her.
“Someday, somehow Somewhere down the line If you save your heart for mine We'll meet again, we'll meet again-”
She wasn’t emotional, she felt things deeply but kept it close to her heart, she felt like she needed to do that to keep herself together. Then one day Malcolm Bright came charging in erratically just bouncing against those walls until they started to fracture until the cracks started to show and she couldn’t hide from him. Even when she wished he wouldn’t see her, or find her, there he was. “You had some more coke explode in your face that I don’t know about?” she asked with a smile.
He breathed in her scent, felt her solid and warm against him. He could feel his own heart racing. She did things to him, honestly, he could be high at this moment but just from her. He smiled, “I think we both know that wouldn’t end well, but I figured friends can dance with each other right?”
Friends, the word floated between them for a moment. Lately, the line seemed to be blurring, gray setting in as to what they each wanted from the other.
“At least you didn’t threaten to kick me in the business, I’d say that’s progress.” He joked almost nervously.
She pursed her lips then smiled, “shut up Bright,” Stepping just a bit closer and wrapping her arms just a bit tighter around him. Feeling his fingers grip her waist more firmly. She closed her eyes for a moment and everything disappeared except for his woodsy scent and the warmth of his body. Maybe, just maybe for a second, they could just be two people dancing.
“Love was my shoreline I stare myself blind Now was not our time No, I let you down”
The world just kind of stopped all he heard was the sound of her breathing against his ears and felt the light brush of her breast against his chest. The warmth of it all driving him a bit mad. Thoughts of kissing her entered his head, as it had been doing more and more lately. The haunting song left him with such want, he wanted her, need her. He didn’t notice that Gil smiled at them from the bar or that Tally mouthed ‘I told you’ to JT to which he shook his head.
“Some last, some die Some love wait till its time If you save your heart for mine We'll meet again, we'll meet again, We'll meet again, we'll meet again“
“Bright?”
“Hmm,” he hummed softly against her ear, his breath warm, making her skin tingle.
“You seem different tonight,” she pulled away from him a bit to look at him. “You good?”
“Well, I definitely have been in worse situations that’s for sure.” He joked, his eyes searching her face as it turned into a signature ‘had it with your shit’ smile.
“Oh yea, I bet dancing with me falls under the top 10 worst experiences of your adult life.” She said rolling her eyes and chuckling.
“I’d say somewhere between getting kidnapped and holding a live bomb,”
She laughed at that and stepped out of his embrace “thanks jerk!”
He missed her instantly, maybe that’s why he grabbed her elbows as he joined her laughter and said “dancing with you Dani Powell makes the top 10 best experiences of my life.”
“Oh, yeah? Before or after all the sex you’ve had?” she couldn’t stop herself, even as her mind yelled ‘what are you doing?! This is flirting, this is not friend stuff.’ but the words tumbled out of her mouth.
He looked at her, watched as her face turn almost the exact shade of red as her dress, he opened his mouth then chuckled out, “it could easily take number one.” He saw her intake of breath, the way her eyes locked on him and her cheeks burned, he saw the flash of what he thought he felt. Could she possibly feel the same?
They were definitely moving away from the friend zone, and thank fuck for that she thought because it was getting exhausting to pretend that she didn’t want to grab his stupid face and kiss him every time he said something that made her heart go thump like now or when he looked like he would break from the pressure within. But then she realized where they were and reality kicked in and she got scared, so she backed off with a small smile saying “It’s a good thing you’re a smooth talker, we’re too high up for anything to break your fall.”
Just like that, the moment changed and they were friends again...
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#brightwell#random fic#malcolm x dani#prodigal son#brightwell trash#lykke li#obsessed#sleeping alone#song fic#quarantine
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Note: This article is from 2016
Glorious sunshine, a Caribbean island and a never-ending supply of grisly murders.
With nearly eight million loyal viewers Death In Paradise has become one of TV’s biggest dramas - a phenomenon for BBC1. Yet star Danny John-Jules reveals the show nearly never made it onto television at all, after it took nearly five years for a channel to snap it up.
Danny’s convinced the reason for the delay was a very disturbing one.
“Believe me, there were nerves in high places,” reveals actor Danny, who has played one of the show’s leading characters, police officer Dwayne Myers, since the start.
“Even though the lead was a white guy it was a huge undertaking at the time to have so many black people on screen in a prime-time slot. It took five years of hard-selling to get a TV channel to commit to the show. Death in Paradise was a fine line to walk - a lot of money had to be put into it.”
It’s a big statement to make.
And obviously everyone else’s loss finally became the BBC’s gain.
But Danny - who also plays Cat in sci-fi sitcom Red Dwarf - says that when it comes to race and entertainment, it’s only too obvious there’s still a problem. He’s a longtime friend of Idris Elba, whose Academy Awards snub for his role in Beasts of No Nation helped trigger the #OscarSoWhite campaign and a huge boycott of the February 28 ceremony. Danny, 55, agrees with the likes of Will Smith and Jada Pinkett that more needs to be done.
“If you put up photographs of who votes for the Oscar nominations you can maybe realise why they reach the decisions they do,” he says.
And he certainly has little time for Broadchurch actress Charlotte Rampling. She blasted the uproar over the lack of diversity in the Oscar nominations was “racist to white people.”
But Danny says: “At the end of the day someone like Charlotte Rampling is only ever going to be judged on her performance. Her race is never going to come into it. Change that to someone like Whoopi Goldberg, who has won an Oscar, and there’s a whole other element, either subconsciously or consciously, that can creep into a judges’ decision making. It follows pretty much across the board in business, it’s not something just based in the arts.”
Of course, things have been different with Death In Paradise.
After finally finding its home at the BBC, it’s remained one of its most successful dramas as people lap up the mix of an lighthearted detective mystery with the beautiful scenery of the Caribbean isle of Guadeloupe.
“Thursday night for millions of people has now become feet up on the reclining sofa, glass of wine and wait for Death in Paradise to begin,” reflects Danny. “I’ve been on telly for 26 years and its very rare you get old West Indian ladies coming up to you in Sainsbury’s approaching you saying ‘Oh, I can’t wait for the next episode! That has been the biggest achievement - the fact the show seems to work for everybody.”
The gruelling six-month long shooting schedule is not quite so idyllic. “You think it’s great being located out in the Caribbean, but there are a lot of casualties of war,” says Danny.
One of them was the show’s original lead star Ben Miller, also of Armstrong And Miller fame, who quit as Detective Inspector Richard Poole at the end of series two. But his replacement, My Family actor Kris Marshall proved an instant hit as lead detective DI Humphrey Goodman.
“It’s a tough gig, and for Ben, with his wife pregnant in the first series, the issue of schools, and the fact he didn’t deal with the heat very well... We had a lot of that. Lots of people not making it through their contracts. Kris Marshall had an absolute mountain to climb when he arrived to take over the role. But he’s done it. And you know what? The ratings went up.”
Danny, who grew up in Paddington, west London, says he has never been one to personally suffer from homesickness or fatigue - mainly because of his early days as a dancer on the variety circuit. “You were on £40 a week and you would be away for six months. I was in a show on the Isle of Wight, three months with Jimmy Tarbuck, three with Dicky Henderson. I saw Dicky the day his mum died. He got up in the morning, got the ferry to London, went to his mum’s funeral, and then was back on stage in the Isle of Wight that same night at 7pm. You look at people like him and you think you can’t just phone in with a bit of a tickle in your throat.”
Danny went on to be a dancer in the West End, including Starlight Express, and performed in Wham!’s The Edge of Heaven video and The Great Muppet Caper, before landing the part in Red Dwarf in 1988.
The show, co-starring Craig Charles and Chris Barrie, ran for 10 series until 1999, before making a highly-anticipated comeback first in 2009 and then properly last year.
The 12th series is due on screens this summer.
But despite being in two huge shows, Danny ensures he’s not away from his family for long - even flying out his fiancee Petula Langlais, and their two children Dante, 10, and Danae, 8, to Guadeloupe for six weeks during the filming of Death in Paradise. He and Petula have been together for 13 years, but have only recently got engaged.
“Most people would have been surprised if I had been with someone for 13 weeks, never mind 13 years,” he laughs. “People were talking actually - especially when I was dressing in PVC and wearing lots of make-up for shows!”
Now however he’s all about family - and Dante is already following in his footsteps as he appears in the programme himself. He was asked to do the guest role after producers saw him in Danny’s self-made short film Bucky - a tragic story of inner-city urban life seen through the eyes of a five year-old boy, co-starring James Bond actor Colin Salmon and EastEnders actress Mona Hammond.
“It was three days of filming, literally 9am to 9pm at night,” he says. “I don’t think I could have asked anyone else’s child to take part. Some of the Death in Paradise producers then saw it - and offered Dante a part.”
Grinning wide, Danny can’t hide his pride. And as he looks forward to his wedding and not one but two big shows on TV, he proves he really is the Cat that got the cream.
#death in paradise#dip interviews#danny john jules#this is from 2016 but i thought it was a good article to share#racism tw
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On the anniversary of Livia Blackthorn’s death.
An Au where Kit never left for Devon and Ty didn’t attend the Scholomance.
Instead of Irene, we have baby turtles!
(A revised and edited version).
...
It was a warm summer evening in Los Angeles, and Kit Herondale was trying to catch up on his sleep.
It had been a very productive day.
Two hours of rune studies was taught by Diana after breakfast, and Kit unsuccessfully tried to remember as many runes as he could.
Another two hours were spent in the training room with Jace so Kit could become familiar with different weapons, as well as master knife throwing.
He was still unsure of which weapons he’d likely choose when going into battle.
It was a relief when he got the opportunity to take a break for lunch. He was hopeful that the educational part of his day was over.
Diana was however firm about Kit learning the histories of the clave. The cold peace was his least favourite.
Finally, after acknowledging that Kit was straining to keep his eyes open while reading old and withered books, Diana decided to call it a day.
But even though Kit was very tired, he struggled to fall asleep.
One year, Kit thought.
He knew that at midday tomorrow, it would be exactly one year since the incident in Idris.
Kit remembered the day as if it was yesterday.
Every time he closed his eyes, he heard the same screams of horror from the council hall. The events played out on a constant loop in his mind.
Given the atmosphere of the institute for the past week, no one else was coping well with the anniversary of Livia Blackthorn’s death.
Her room remained untouched since the Blackthorns left for London when Malcolm Fade posed a threat.
Julian stopped making pancakes for breakfast on Fridays, much to Drusilla and Tavvy’s dismay.
In fact, most meals were take outs ordered from the nearest pizza or Chinese restaurant.
Helen and Aline tried to ease the grief and tense atmosphere. The children became their responsibility after they were appointed co-heads of the institute.
But it was difficult to reconnect with your family, especially if you’d been away from them for five years.
Now Kit tossed and turned on his double bed. He dreaded waking up the next day, and seeing all the Blackthorns drown in their sorrow.
He couldn’t decide how he would provide any comfort to Ty, or anyone else in the Institute.
Being a Herondale, he felt like an outsider, intruding on the privacy of the Institute.
At least in that aspect, he had something in common with Diana and Emma.
Just when Kit was about to fall asleep, there was a sound at his door.
Three knocks.
He sat up in his bed, rubbed his right eye and silently cursed.
Of course he wasn’t the only one unable to sleep.
But who could’ve disturbed Kit at that time of night?
“Who is it?” He asked in his raspy voice.
“Um, it’s Ty... can I come in?”
Kit was wide awake now.
His annoyance was left abandoned.
“Yes, of course.”
Ty entered the room and was wearing a half sleeved black t-shirt, dark jeans and trainers.
His black hair looked unkept, and in need of cutting. He had shadows under his eyes.
It made Kit wonder why he hadn’t changed into his pyjamas already.
It was nearly 12am.
“I need your help,” Ty stated with a troubled expression.
‘What’s wrong?’ Kit asked softly.
He swung his legs out from under the covers, and placed his feet into slippers.
“I was walking along the beach and found this... this nest of turtle eggs.”
“And?”
“They were being raided by a group of stray dogs. Three eggs have already been taken.”
Kit sat there speechless and tried to piece together a coherent response.
“Can you come and help me watch over them?” Ty asked.
Kit didn’t have to think about it twice.
He got out of bed and put a hoodie over his pyjamas.
“I’ll come with you.”
They walked hastily out of the bedroom and Institute, while treading quietly to avoid waking others.
The beach wasn’t far and they were two shadows in the dark.
The sand was soft as a blanket under Kit’s feet.
“We’re nearly there,” Ty claimed.
Kit hurried along as Ty increased his pace, very eager to reach the turtle’s nest.
It wasn’t long before they reached the area on which a turtle had laid nine eggs.
With a closer examination, Kit realised that three of them had been cracked open.
The premature baby turtles had been snatched from the safety of their temporary homes.
“The dogs have already taken three. I don’t want them taking anymore. We should stay here all night to ensure that doesn’t happen,” Ty said.
Kit regarded the nest and turned his face towards Ty.
“Sounds like a plan.”
He proceeded to sit on top of the sand, before laying back and looking up with a smile.
Ty laid down next to him with a sigh of relief.
At least twenty minutes passed and the two boys stared at the stars in silence.
Kit wondered what life would’ve been like if there was no shadow world and no shadowhunters.
Perhaps he could’ve been a captain on a ship, and faced adventure in different parts of the world.
All the Institute shadowhunters would’ve been his companions, with the exception of Emma, who was terrified of the ocean.
“You know what’s strange?’ Ty asked.
“What?” Kit questioned.
It was so quiet that he thought Ty had already fallen asleep.
Ty, however, kept his focus on the sky above them.
Kit took advantage of this by admiring the side profile of his face.
“When I found this nest, the first person I thought of was Livia.”
Kit felt a pang in his chest and furrowed his eye brows.
“You miss your sister. I understand that.”
Ty shook his head.
“It’s not only that. I mean, I do miss her... but the reason why she came to mind was because of something Jules told me.”
Kit waited for Ty to explain further.
“It must’ve been a month or so after Livvy’s death. Julian told me how much she wanted to run an institute when she was older, and how she would never have the chance to. Livvy was always so caring. She always wanted to have responsibility. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I’d become about how good she would’ve been at that job.”
Kit nodded as if agreeing.
“I’ve no doubt she would’ve been a great Institute head.”
‘“...and when I saw this nest, I immediately thought of how much Livvy would want me to care for and protect it.”
There was a long pause.
“So... you’re doing this for her? For Livia?” Kit asked.
“Partly... you know I’ve always liked animals,” Ty replied with a sad smile.
“Then we’ll stay until they hatch, even if we have to lie here all week.”
There was no reply.
Kit looked at Ty more intently and realised he’d fallen asleep.
“Goodnight Ty.”
Hours passed slowly, and Kit was thankful when he finally saw the sun peaking out from under the horizon.
Sunrise in Los Angeles would’ve made a great landscape for painting with the amalgamation of: orange, red and blue.
It was nearly midday when seagulls began to screech above the shore, and the beach was clustered with mundanes.
Kit had struggled to stay awake all night to keep an eye on the turtle eggs, when Ty fell asleep.
He was impressed with himself, having survived a night of sleeplessness. But was ridden with exhaustion.
Now, Ty stirred in his sleep and groggily opened his eyes.
“Good you’re awake,” Kit said with a smile.
An expression of panic came upon Ty’s face and he sat up immediately.
“I fell asleep... the nest...”
“I stayed awake all night to keep an eye on it.”
Ty looked down at the nest with astonishment.
All six eggs were left unharmed.
“All night? You should’ve woke me up so you could get some sleep.”
“It’s alright, honestly. I wasn’t that tired,” Kit lied.
Ty turned his head and looked towards the ocean.
“What time is it?” Kit asked.
He planned on going to the institute and getting them a bite to eat.
“It just struck 12pm,” Ty replied as he looked at his watch.
As soon as Ty said this, there was a sound of something breaking.
Both boys turned their attention to the nest.
One of the eggs had cracked open, and a tiny head of a turtle peaked out from underneath.
Kit smiled widely, and saw the same expression mirrored in Ty’s face.
Soon the second egg followed, then the third and the fourth.
When all the eggs opened, the turtles climbed out of their nest and made their way to the water.
Kit and Ty walked together slowly after them, and stopped when they reached the shoreline.
The water engulfed the turtles one by one, and invited them into their blue oceanic home.
#cassandra clare#the shadowhunter chronicles#the dark artifices#the wicked powers#lady midnight#lord of shadows#qoaad#the clave#the clave in exile#the los angeles enclave#the los angeles institute#the blackthorns#the herondales#ty blackthorn#kit herondale#livia blackthorn#ghost livvy#helen blackthorn#aline penhallow#mark blackthorn#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#drusilla blackthorn#tavvy blackthorn#diana wrayburn#jace herondale#au#kitty au#turtles#fanfic
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Action-Adventure: Pacific Rim and the subversion of ‘assumed romance’
‘The guy gets the girl’ is an eternal cinematic trope. While there is a growing trend in films featuring independent female leads, research suggests that over 58% of female characters in film are still identified by their roles as mothers, wives, or lovers (Lang, 2015). This provides an expectation in movie-going audiences that the female characters, or at the very least the protagonist female character, will be involved in a romantic subplot during the film. This expectancy is reflected at the box office, with many of the highest grossing films of the 2010s featuring a romantic subplot (E.g. Between Owen and Clair in Jurassic World (2015), or Tony and Pepper in Avengers: Endgame (2019)). Concurrently, there has also been a steady emergence in similar high-budget action films that do not provide an expectation for romance between characters. For instance, in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) the protagonists Max and Furiosa are not framed as romantic interests despite their growing mutual support and comradery as the film progresses.
Pacific Rim (2013) directed by Guillermo Del Toro is another example of a high-budget action film that subverts expectations in this way. The film takes place on Earth, where a portal to another dimension has ripped open the Pacific Rim and is releasing giant monsters (Kaiju) onto the world. The worlds governments have banded together to create equally giant robot mechs (Jaegers) to combat this threat. The only catch is that the Jaegers must be piloted by two people who are ‘drift compatible’, meaning that they share a strong mental link. Raleigh Becket (Charlie Hunnam), a washed-up former Jaeger pilot, is reluctantly called back to duty as the threat of the Kaiju worsens. He is about to be assigned a co-pilot by the Jaeger program director, Marshal Pentecost (Idris Elba) when he meets the directors adopted daughter, Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi). The two are of similar age, goals, and grow to have a deep and profound mutual respect over the course of the film. Their relationship is initiated when Becket challenges Mako to a duel which results in a draw. Throughout the match they are consistently equally matched in skill and strength, and they both don similar training outfits regardless of their gender. Del Toro states that he filmed this scene as a ‘sex scene’ – “That scene was all about two people having an intimate connection after beating the crap out of each other.” (Fear, 2013).
The two progress towards an intimate understanding of each other as Mako loses control during a Jaeger test mission with Becket. She becomes too angry during the drift process, thus revealing all her past trauma from losing her parents to a Kaiju attack as a child via their shared thoughts. Beckets attempt at defusing the situation results in the near destruction of the base, for which they both are relieved of duty. However, the experience rewards them with a deep understanding of the others pain as Becket then shares that he lost his brother/co-pilot in his last Jaeger mission and can relate to Mako’s pain. In the film’s finale, the two pilots face off against several immensely strong Kaiju and subsequently manage to close the rift in the Pacific Rim. Their Jaeger is destroyed in the process and they are left floating at sea on an escape pod. This is where the film deviates from typical conventions. The pair embrace and do not kiss as would be expected. In this case, their cumulative experiences do not amount to romance between the two protagonists. The absence of the traditional ‘final kiss’ defies the audiences’ expectations of this genre of film, especially when compared to a similar film such as Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) which plays the expected romance trope in the opposite way.
Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), directed by Joss Whedon, was an addition to the popular Marvel Cinematic Universe and drew criticism from its inclusion of a romantic relationship between Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) and The Hulk (Mark Ruffalo). Where Pacific Rim chose to end with its protagonists as platonic partners, Age of Ultron chose to pursue a romantic relationship between two characters who have no previous romantic chemistry. Neither Black Widow nor Hulk had expressed romantic interest towards each other in previous Marvel films, which is what makes their relationship feel so out of place. The relationship is created for the sake of the inclusion of a romantic subplot and does not acknowledge the characters’ history, or lack thereof. The two lack a single scene together prior to this film that suggests that they share a bond, or have had the opportunity to develop a bond. Where Becket and Mako develop a close bond, they are not expected to fall in love, so why are Black Widow and The Hulk?
The answer may be in the characters’ roles in the respective films. Becket and Mako, for instance, are written as equals – neither is superior to the other in combat or skill. They are dressed in similar costumes throughout the film too, with having identical Jaeger suits and wearing similar training outfits. In an interview, Del Toro said that he intended to counteract the typical summer blockbuster by “making the female pilot, Mako, an equal to Charlie Hunnam’s character instead of just a romantic interest. Whether the two of them end up with each other or not is practically irrelevant; she’s her own character.” (Fear, 2013). However, Age of Ultron is an ‘ensemble film’ comprising of several superheroes from other Marvel films. Black Widow is one of two Avengers who have not yet had their own solo film, where The Hulk has. This effectively pushes her into the background as a less important member of the group. Therefore, she struggles to stand out amongst others like Captain America and Iron Man as a fully developed character. The film tries to remedy this by having her reveal to The Hulks alter ego (Bruce Banner) that she was made sterile as she was trained to be an assassin. This scene feels out of place in terms of the tone of the film which promises continuous action spectacle as well as making her only applicable backstory related to motherhood. This coupled with her fetishized black skin-tight suits and femme fatale nature gives her an over-sexualised image. As Mulvey (1975) describes, women exist in film as “erotic spectacle”. Black Widow falls under this umbrella of voyeurism and so is prescribed to a romantic role in this film. This is now, however, a concrete form which women must fit into. Mako remains Beckets equal in terms of how she is presented, and so is not required to participate in romance with him.
References:
Fear, D. (2013). TONY Q&A: Pacific Rim’s Guillermo del Toro. [online] Time Out New York. Available at: https://www.timeout.com/newyork/film/tony-q-a-pacific-rims-guillermo-del-toro [Accessed 13 Jan. 2020]
Lang, B. (2015, Feb 9). Study finds fewer lead roles for women in Hollywood. Variety. Retrieved from http://variety.com/2015/film/news/women-lead-roles-in-movies-study-hunger-games-gone-girl-1201429016/
Mulvey, L. (1975). Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema. Screen, 16(3), pp.6-18.
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Whelp, none of you bitches wanted it but I DID it so here it is. I know most of you probably don’t give a shit about my thoughts on the new Taylor Swift album so my thoughts are below the cut.
1. I Forgot That You Existed-So kind of weird to write a song about how much you don’t care about someone you broke up with 3 years ago but hey, it’s what she do. Production is memorable which is more than I can say for the rest of the album but she does the sing speak/Tay Tay rap she’s done on her last 3 albums added with the sarcastic/eye roll while I do it delivery so you can imagine the level of obnoxious.
2. Cruel Summer-If you’re going to try to claim this song title from Bananaramma you best bring your A-game and not this mess. Seriously, trying to reclaim one of the most perfect pop songs of all time?!?! The song would MAYBE work if she focused in on the references to her being white girl wasted in the back of a car. If the drunkenness related more to the all over the placeness of the song but it doesn’t. Not sure why her fans think this would make the perfect single. Is this about summer ‘16 or ‘17?
3. Lover-The title track and the just released third single. It’s whatever. Nothing good nor bad about it really and only lyrically interesting if you’re invested in the Taylor trying to find her true love narrative. I will say her deliver of “lover” makes me laugh because all I can think of is Jackie on That 70′s Show calling Kelso it all the time which is EXACTLY the person I’ve always imagined Taylor to be like so I guess it works? Oh and also:
And as someone of almost the same age as Taylor she should know BOTH these cultural touchstones of the first half of the aughts.
4. The Man-Look, in theory I’m not inherently against Taylor tackling the double standards she faces as a woman. But....the song is both too specific and too generic. She wants it to be relatable for all women so there are platitudes she can’t pull off but then there are comparisons to her own reputation with Leonardo Di’Caprio which yeah the rest of us plebs don’t have to think about. But thanks for reminding me I think Leo has been overrated for years and sad at this point.
5. The Archer-I should really love this song. It should have been the Getaway Car of this album where despite my loathing of Taylor I admit I can’t help my affection for the song. Jack Antonoff who I have a very love/hate relationship with (I’m a Bleachers fan and of course Melodrama is a masterpiece) admitted they did this song in like a day and it shows. They really should have worked this song through a bit more and it could have been something. The production starts off great but then repeats instead of pushing forward and climaxing at the emotional crux of the song. The lyrics are also solid individually but don’t come together as organically as they should. Wasted opportunity.
6. I Think He Knows-I actually like the first verse of this song and then that sing speak/Tay Tay rap chorus kicks in, cranks the pitch up so only dogs can hear, and drops a “no one understands” that belonged on Swift’s first two albums and no further.
7. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince-What the fuck is this song even doing on the album? You’re almost 30 Taylor! I don’t want to hear about homecoming queens and shit with cheers in the background.
8. Paper Rings-I genuinely like the lyrics on this one. Just makes it a bummer because the production during the verses is fun but the production on the chorus is too reminiscent of I’m Walking on Sunshine. But OK overall. And then...oh and then...she REPEATEDLY calls this man her baby boy. Please....I may throw up.
9. Cornelia Street-Another song that you’ll only care about if you’re invested in the personal life of Taylor Swift. Also sounds like the reheated leftover production from So It Goes on her last album.
10. Death by a Thousand Cuts-Another weird break up song on an album about love. Shrug but it’s actually good. I enjoy the piano on this one and if one song should be a single, it’s this one. The ”united we stand” lyric is weird though.
11. London Boy-IDRIS WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?! Another song where I liked the first verse and then wanted to shoot myself. This song definitely feels like it is for the teeny boppers because the way she describes loving an English man is every fucking cliche in the book and is just Taylor’s excuse to use British slang. Good for the 12 twee fantasies.
12. Soon You’ll Get Better-The only great song on the album. It’s old school Swift in every sense: it’s country, warm and unpolished (something she’s lacked since RED), and actually feels like something she wrote from emotion instead of the narrative she’s created or what she thinks will play well. It’s said to be about her mother’s cancer so I’m not going to dig in further but it’s her best writing in years. Shame she wasted the Dixie Chicks as simply background vocalists though.
13. False God-Taylor should never use a saxophone in her songs because all it does is remind me she has no soul in her music or herself in the slightest. Another reheated decision from Reputation, this time those embarrassing breathy vocals from Dress to cover up her vocal shortcomings.
14. You Need To Calm Down-Lyrics ain’t shit, she doesn’t know what shade means, and I liked the production at first but now that repetitive drop feels like Chinese water torture.
15. Afterglow-Yet another song only important if you care about the personal journey of the artist in question. I guess it’s the first time we’ve ever really heard her take responsibility for her actions and not blaming the guy (excluding Back to December). That’s something I guess if you don’t pay attention to all the other times she hasn’t taken responsibility.
16. ME!-We all know how we all feel about this rainbow turd. I just want to say I never thought I would feel the emotional equivalent of this
from one of Taylor’s lyrics ever again after hearing “This.Sick.Beat” on repeat in 2014. But “Hey Kids! Spelling is fun!” certainly did just that.
17. It’s Nice to Have a Friend-I don’t know what this is or why it’s on this album. Is it like Everything Has Changed’s sequel? Just cut it from this already bloated album.
18. Daylight-Congrats Taylor, I noticed you used the line from your Reputation poem in a song. Do I win a prize? Who cares at least this is all over now. Only possible reference to Tom when she says she’s been cruel to her nice exes and trusted the wicked ones. I Did Something Bad and Getaway Car could put Tom in either camp.
Overall, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’d rather listen to Reputation. I tend to be of the mind that bad flavor is better than no flavor (why I’d rather watch the Star Wars prequels than The Force Awakens) and this is what we have in front of us. A car crash where she tried SOMETHING versus this album which is diet 1989. I think she’s run out of ideas trying to stay on top of pop trends that will keep her front and center. She hit the brick wall with her last album, there was nowhere else for her to go further into pop. The songs on this album could have been released at any point on her last three albums, there’s no forward progression but instead a backslide into the generic or retreads of old work. But this album/tour will make so much money so it’s not like she cares.
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Top 22 ‘Little Joe Things’
I know I’m two weeks late, but over the course of the last year I have saw Joe Idris-Roberts give some absolutely spectacular performances as Albus. He was funny, thought-provoking, moving, made me cry more than anyone else in the history of the show, and was an all-round good egg.
In honour of his departure from the show, I want to share my top 22 favourite iconic details (or ‘Little Joe Things’ as I’ve dubbed them this year) from his portrayal of Albus. Some of them happened every show, some only once, but together they defined his Albus for me, and made this Albus one of the most vivid and beautiful ever.
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Ron’s quills
When Albus is in the second timeline, just after he’s woken up in the Hospital Wing, Ron offers him a gift of quills. Joe’s Albus assumes that, because this is a gift from Ron, the quills are going to be a joke. He holds them away from himself and opens them so gingerly, expecting something to jump out at him.
It says so much about Albus’s relationship with his family, and how there have been good times in the past. He’s so happy to receive a joke gift. He expects something familiar when the world is turning on its head. Of everyone, he knows where he stands with Ron — except here he doesn’t, and when the quills really are just quills, that’s what confirms for him that this world is very wrong indeed.
‘It’s easy. Watch.’
Albus and Scorpius always have a bit of a routine when they’re climbing up on top of the train, but Joe’s routine is utterly ridiculous. Albus tries to push Scorpius up the suitcases onto the roof, but Scorpius panics, so Albus tells him to watch and goes ahead.
Cue Albus trying to show off by leaping up about nine suitcases at once. He takes the most difficult route onto the top of the train possible, just to prove how easy it is. It means he ends up lying on his stomach, kicking his legs in the air, and wriggling around to get himself up.
Back when Cast Three began, Scorpius always played along and followed Albus’s movements exactly, but in recent months he seems to have figured out that Albus is being ridiculous, because he takes the much easier route, using the suitcases as the ladder they’re meant to be.
Forgetting the trolley
One show, a few months ago, Albus disappeared off to get on the train without his trolley, only to run back out of the wings a few seconds later to fetch it, giving his mum a suitably sheepish smile as he did. That first time I genuinely thought that he’d forgotten the trolley, but in the following shows it became part of the familiar pattern. The first of Albus’s little disasters. He’s so worried about going to Hogwarts that he’s lost in his head and forgets his luggage. It’s the first sign of things to come.
‘I’m sorry’
When Delphi is torturing Scorpius, she taunts Albus, telling him to do what he’s told. He knows that if he does, they’ll bring back Voldemort and destroy everything. He also knows that if he doesn’t, Scorpius is going to get hurt. But he’s heard about that other world, and he is certain that they’d both lay down their lives to stop it coming about.
So he looks across at Scorpius and mouths ‘I’m sorry’, and Scorpius responds with a little nod to say that he knows. They’re on the same page. The right thing to do might be the most painful and dangerous option, but it’s the option they’re going to choose to take together.
That tiny bit of silent communication says so much about Albus and Scorpius’s friendship. They’re in this as a pair, and they’ll live or die that way.
‘Let’s do something new. Something fun!’
Joe’s Albus was someone who loved to fiddle and explore, to know how things worked. He also had a mischievous streak. He would mess with the Time-Turner while he was holding it, trying to figure it out, and he would also come up with the most ridiculous possible way of destroying it.
There were a couple of different ways that Albus would threaten to lob the Time-Turner off the Owlery. Sometimes he would hold it above his head and start to throw it at the ground. Other times he would make to overarm throw it out at the audience. Either way, Scorpius would have to dive in to stop him.
Only Albus would think that smashing the Time-Turner on the rocks constituted fun. It would have been messy for sure, but it might also have been effective. We’ll never know. (I did always wonder what they’d do if he did accidentally let go of it one show.)
‘We’ll be better off without each other’
Joe makes it so very obvious that Albus doesn’t want to be saying goodbye to Scorpius, and Albus tries so hard to communicate that in the limited way he can.
When Albus says ‘I can’t, okay?’ it’s so soft and gentle. He even puts a hand on Scorpius’s arm. But Scorpius doesn’t follow, and Harry is right there, so Albus’s next words are as snapped and angry as they have to be to put on a show for his dad. ‘We’ll be better off without each other, okay?’
It’s a heartbreaking little moment, and it’s so hard to see Albus try to communicate that it’s all an act, knowing that Scorpius is going to end up angry and upset with him.
‘You‘re a genius, Moaning Myrtle!’
Joe’s Albus always tried really hard to warn Scorpius not to call Myrtle ‘Moaning Myrtle’, but did Scorpius ever pay attention? Of course not.
Albus would try to move into Scorpius’s sightline and make desperate neck slashing gestures to make him stop (while also attempting to be subtle), but when Scorpius is flailing it’s difficult to get his attention. Cue Albus hiding his face in his hands as Myrtle yelled at Scorpius for referring to her as Moaning.
‘I’m not going to be a wizard, Dad’
I don’t know how Joe got so good at doing a pigeon coo, but it was uncanny. Personally I only saw him do it once, during a show when Tom Peters was on as Harry, but it was unforgettable.
Albus told Harry he was going into pigeon racing, and then as Harry did his ‘oh no, pigeons!’ routine, Albus, seemingly just to be provocative, started pigeon cooing at him. I loved it because it showed Albus’s humorous side and his sense of fun. Those moments when he let go enough to tease his dad were a really important step for him. They showed the potential of things to be better, and that one day he might be able to relax enough amongst his family to really be himself.
The Eureka moment
There have been some jubilant versions of the moment where Albus and Scorpius figure out the solution to contacting Harry, but Joe’s celebration will always be one of my favourites. Albus treated it almost like a football goal celebration. He started jumping up and down while Scorpius was still figuring everything out, and on the last few shows he even did a sort of ridiculous chicken dance because he was so happy.
It was one of Joe’s Albus’s few moments of pure, unadulterated joy. For a second he would forget everything and just celebrate. There was true hope there, and the parts of Albus that were too often buried under unhappiness would come shining through.
‘Some for me and some for you’
For a while last summer there were some Gillyweed shenanigans going on. Albus would take a normal amount of Gillyweed for himself and then present Scorpius with an enormous heap of the stuff, which Jonathan would have to find a way of eating in the limited time he had. Often Gillyweed would end up all over the place, on the stage, in Myrtle’s sink, hanging out of Scorpius’s mouth. It was never not a hilarious disaster to see Jonathan stare in trepidation at an enormous pile of Gillyweed that Joe had just handed him. Sadly, such activities get quickly nipped in the bud with this show, but it was extremely entertaining while it lasted.
Judging Scorpius
Of all the reasons to love Joe’s Albus, the authenticity of his friendship with Scorpius was one of the foremost. The fond, loving judgement he directed at Scorpius whenever Scorpius was having one of his moments felt so real and familiar. It’s exactly the way I interact with my best friends.
Albus would pace up and down, take deep breaths, mime strangling Scorpius, throw him under the bus, nod along at his ridiculousness before throwing in just one word to show how stupid it was, but it was all done with such love. These were two people who knew each other intimately, who would expect nothing less of one another, and who were happy to tease each other for their essential nature in a way that was laced with love.
This was the first Albus and Scorpius that truly immersed me in their friendship. With other portrayals I lived for the little moments that hinted of something more, but it was so nice for a year to have deep rooted, loving, warm friendship be just enough.
‘But this is a graveyard’
Joe was a master of detail, and one of the most perfect was that in the final scene Albus never stood on any of the graves. He would go out of his way to hop over them in fact. Towards the end of the scene, Albus and Harry would look at one of the graves just behind Cedric’s, and as Harry went over to Cedric’s, Albus would leap over the one they’d just been looking at.
It’s not something I remember anyone doing before, and it was such a tiny thought that meant so much. Albus was respectful and careful. Maybe he was superstitious. There was so much that could be read from that single, simple act, and that was the hallmark of Joe’s performance. He seemed to think of everything, and that made Albus more than a character on stage. It made him someone real and relatable.
‘No love or luck for me then’
Very early on I noticed how excited Albus would get when Harry started talking about giving him the blanket. It seemed strange, given how the scene ends and how quickly Albus rejects ultimately rejects the blanket, so I asked Joe about it and every subsequent performance broke my heart.
Albus thinks that the blanket is a powerful magical object, akin to the Invisibility Cloak. He thinks that what Harry is giving him is something that will truly bring him luck, after all, that’s how Harry sells it to him. ‘Whenever I’ve wanted luck I’ve found it and just tried to hold it, and I wondered if you...’
What Albus needs, or what he thinks he needs, most in the world is luck. Everything goes wrong for him at school, at him, and if only he had some luck maybe everything would be okay. So when he thinks Harry is offering him that, he jumps at it. The heartbreaking part is that he realises almost as soon as he’s got the blanket in his hands that it’s not what he’d hoped, and then he deflates and retreats into himself as he understands that this is just an object of sentimental value.
There are two things that make this all the more heartbreaking. Firstly, Harry sees him get so excited, he thinks he’s done the right thing, and when Albus’s mood collapses he doesn’t follow. He has no idea what he’s done wrong, all he knows is that they were so close and for some reason he’s lost everything once again. Secondly, the blanket in fact does bring Albus love and luck. It saves him. When he interacts with it in that scene it’s already got the invisible writing on it. The solution is right there in the room with them, and neither of them see it.
‘There you go, you see, all dry humour and Albus-y’
I think it was Cast Three’s very first performance when I fell in love with Albus’s emergence from the lake post-Voldemort timeline. He popped up out of the water and started imitating the Merpeople in the lake and throwing dry potshots at Scorpius. As soon as Scorpius said his line about Albus’s dry humour I realised that we’d finally found an Albus who really matched it. That line had never quite worked for me before. The other Albuses were dry but they weren’t funny enough, or even funny but not dry enough. So I was overjoyed to finally have an Albus where that description really worked, especially in that particular scene.
‘Oh my, that’s her!’
One of my favourite things with Cast Three was seeing how Albus was going to hide from Bathilda this time. I saw him pretend to polish the ring that used to be on the Stage Right wall, I saw him try and squish himself into the gap behind the pillar at the edge of the first wing, and best of all I saw him walk into the wall face first and stand perfectly still, as if having his back to her would make him invisible. He was never the most subtle or casual of creatures was Joe’s Albus, but he was certainly amusing.
‘The ironic thing is I didn’t expect that to work’
Every time Joe’s Albus had to cast a spell, whether it was Expelliarmus with Delphi, Incendio in the transition scene, or Allohomora in the final battle, he would always polish his wand on his clothes before he attempted it. Apparently it was a habit he’d got into after one day polishing his wand before doing a spell in class. It had worked that day, so forever after he would do the same thing for luck.
It was another of those little details that brought so much history to Albus. It hinted at his struggles offstage. It was a facet of his character that was so pervasive and constant. It wasn’t something that needed to be there but it was, and that said everything about Albus as a character and Joe as an actor.
The extra hug
On the theme of things that didn’t have to be there but were, the extra hug that Albus and Scorpius shared in Godric’s Hollow was a perfect example of the extent of their friendship. It was just one instance of their background interactions, particularly in Act Four when they often separate into their family groups and don’t interact much. With Cast Three they were constantly communicating, constantly checking in, and in this moment where Scorpius had just seen his friend disappear into the grate possibly to never be seen again, and they’d just survived the resulting battle, it was only natural that they’d run to each other the second it was safe.
‘Zap her?’
Some of Joe’s best moments came when he was saying nothing. It was like once Albus was out of the spotlight and the pressure was off he could be himself. It seemed hard to relax when he was under scrutiny, but if he wasn’t expecting to be paid attention it didn’t matter, so he would come alive.
One of the best examples of this was when Ron suggested that they should zap Delphi. Albus look immediately delighted by the idea, like it was the best suggestion ever. Then Draco would step in and question it, and Albus’s face would instantly fall a little bit, like hmm, maybe it wasn’t a good idea after all, and he’d turn back to Ron to see what he thought. It was like Albus was watching a game of tennis, observing Draco and Ron batting this suggestion back and forth between them, and the animation of his reactions was brilliant. He didn’t seem to know whose side to be on. I suspect he was secretly a fan of both of them.
‘He used to do this smoke ring thing with you’
Joe’s Albus had the most wonderful ability to make Harry laugh at exactly the right moments. The best example was in the final scene, when he was talking about James doing the smoke ring thing with baby Harry. Albus would wiggle his finger round in a circle, right up to Harry’s face, and Harry would laugh despite himself, and Albus would smile and go ‘there, see? You couldn’t stop giggling’.
It was such a sweet interaction. It showed a new level of comfort between the two of them, and I can’t help but think that Harry would love Albus’s humour, and would be so pleased to be part of it. There was so much love there. Even though things were difficult, they could still manage to share moments like that, and those were the things that brought them closer together as father and son.
‘I thought we decided we don’t hug’
Moments of complete peace for Albus in the play are almost exclusively reserved for when he’s asleep, but Joe managed to insert one into the final Scorpius and Albus hug. It developed over the last few months of his run in the show. When Scorpius hugged him, Albus would bow his head onto Scorpius’s shoulder or into his hair and lose himself for several long seconds. It was like he’d completely forgotten the world around him, the fact that they were in the middle of one of Hogwarts’ corridors, the fact that they weren’t meant to hug. It was a moment of complete solace and it was beautiful.
The one thing that’s demonstrated throughout the show is that Albus and Scorpius find peace in each other’s company. Right from when they start talking on the train and the light changes and the rest of the train disappears so it’s just them in their own little world, they’re never at home as they are when they’re together, and it was wonderful to see that acknowledged in the final hug they share.
Propping up pillows
One of Joe’s Albus’s little habits was to always prop up the pillow on whatever bed he was on. Whether it was the bed in the hospital wing, his bed at home, or the bed in his dorm, the first thing he’d do was to rest the pillow against the bedstead. For a character who’s so often uncomfortable and out of place, it was the one sign of ownership he had. It was Albus quietly claiming a space as his own.
With that in mind, the most beautiful and meaningful example of this was always in the scene when Harry and Ginny find the blanket on Albus’s bed. Before Albus climbed on the bed between them he would flip the pillow up, and it always felt like even from afar he was taking ownership of the space and the situation. It was a tangible sign of his presence, and it reminded me of how Jamie P would often whip his head round to look at Albus as Albus ran off stage after finishing the message on the blanket. From a different time and place, Albus is felt so clearly in that scene. Sometimes Harry is aware of him, sometimes he’s not, but he’s always there, and Joe’s Albus leaving the pillow just so was perfect proof of that.
‘He did everything he could’
Right from day one, I think my favourite detail from Joe’s performance was the moment when Albus takes Harry’s wand so he can hold his hand. It’s so gentle and supportive. It’s everything Harry needs in that moment. And it shows how far Albus has come. The fact that he’s there for his dad and that he can offer those quiet words, ‘he did everything he could’, say so much about Albus’s good heart and how hard he’s trying.
Over just the course of the events in Godric’s Hollow, Albus and Harry see so much of each other and learn so much, and this is the perfect culmination of that. What Joe did was to make that more than just words. It’s an action too. It’s Albus being with his dad 100%, opening himself up to sharing his dad’s pain.
I didn’t realise until he’d gone how mature and tender Joe’s Albus actually was, but I think of everything, that’ll be the thing I miss most. The truly heartfelt nature of his apologies and his reaching out to fix things and help people really defined his performance. That good heartedness has always been one of Albus’s most beautiful qualities, and with Joe, despite the angry, miserable discomfort of his existence, it was a quality that truly blossomed.
#Harry Potter and the Cursed Child#Cursed Child#hpplayldn#Joe Idris-Roberts#Albus Severus Potter#Keep The Secrets#Notes from the show#Joe's Albus was so underrated#As a fandom we didn't deserve him#So much thought and detail went into his performances#It was all there for us#And we should have appreciated it more
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Homeward
Title: Homeward Word Count: 1018 Rating: G/PG – allusion to Adult Situations Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters, locations, etc. are the sole property of Eric Kripke and Warner Bros. Entertainment. It is being used without permission and no intent is being made to copyright any material herein. Summary: During, “The Last Ride,” otherwise known as the Current Season (15), Emily Winchester and Arthur Ketch get a few minutes to breathe, drink, and think. The music that inspired this particular piece is entitled, “Where the River Shannon Flows,” which is an older Irish folk song. ********** It was evening, and in a little motel which was across the board entirely a, “Winchester Special,” and nothing like the wealth to which he had grown accustomed, Arthur Ketch settled in with his companion, who sat patiently in the other bed, combing out her long black hair.
They had both chosen to forgo their Standard Nightcap, which consisted of two parts Jack, one part bourbon, and topped off neatly with whatever else they had on hand. It might have perhaps loosened tongues and inhibitions, but for once both Mr. Ketch and Miss Winchester needed both.
That wasn't to say drunk (or even slightly tipsy) relations would be unwelcome – just unwise. And so, Arthur admired her slender form from the other bed – the silvery runes which caught the light and made her skin shimmer just a little, as if she were made of moonlight. As if her lifeblood was that same pale light which was a reflection of the brighter sun. “When all this is over,” he began, making Emily's head come up, her bright green eyes trained on his darker ones, “what is it you wish to do?” “You mean, “if we survive,” am I right?” she corrected humorlessly as long fingers moved through ebony strands of hair, settling it into a loose braid at the side of her head. Emily often plaited her hair in this fashion, for the sake of convenience as much as anything else.
“If you want to be that way about it; yes,” was the simple reply. Neither Emily nor himself seemed to be unaware of the inherent danger they were currently facing. With one of if not THE most powerful being in the Universe having a personal vendetta against them, there was always a constant need to move.
However, this particular road was taking them toward a small town in Wisconsin. In a desperate plan and on a big hunch, Sam and Dean had recruited the witch Rowena to attempt a salvo for the sake of Humanity. As long as the Winchesters were breathing, they were fight to keep the Earth turning. Dean's logic had led him to the idea of attempting to find and then recruit the four Archangels, who may or may not have escaped the Empty (I mean, Hell itself had opened up right? That was bound to cause some rifts) and enlist the assistance of Amara, the one Being in the Universe who might be able to seal Chuck away, as she had been for millennia. Emily's eyes went ceiling-ward, and her mouth quirked in the concentration of thought. She exhaled heavily, preparing her answer.
“I think I'll go home,” she said.
“Home?” was Arthur's immediate query, surprise in his tone.
“Yeah,” mused Emily, her body relaxing as she kept her eyes directed upward, “you know I didn't live here all my life; right?”
“That – I was unaware of. In all the course of our time together, it never did come up.”
Emily chuckled a little, crossed her legs where she was, and turned her jade eyes on Arthur.
“Well; I didn't. A good deal of my life I grew up in Idris – the land of the ShadowHunters. But – I also spent a lot of time in Ireland. That's where my mother's people came from – before they were Shadowhunters and had the blood of Angels. I remember the place well....”
Sensing a story or two, Ketch chose to relax, gazing upon her as he settled in to listen.
“Some of the greenest land you've ever seen.... not many trees, but by the river... oh, the willow trees on the banks just dipped their long branches into the water. And the water was clear and cool – sweet on the tongue. And fish – there were a few small fish that would swim in the water. My cousins and I would play in that water and hang from the sturdier poplars that grew there. And the earth was rich and black and grass.... so green. It's not called the Emerald Isle for no reason.” “I imagined not,” Arthur murmured softly as he allowed her to continue.
“The house we lived in was smaller than the estate in Idris... a cottage in some ways really – with the old thatch roof and the old stone walls that told stories of the land. Uncle never farmed the land, but – ah, he knew where to go for peat to make fires when we stayed there for Christmas. It was small – just a few rooms, a main room, and then the kitchen. But we all fit comfortable. The wind would move through that tall grass in Summer and oh – it looked just like an ocean.”
Continuing to listen, Emily's words began to act like some sort of lullaby – or maybe it was because he was genuinely tired – that Arthur's eyes drifted closed as she spoke, smiling just a little at the lilt of Irish that came into her voice.
“That cottage has some of my favorite memories,” she said, “and maybe – if we can make it – and somehow, you know, don't die – I'd like to try and get back there someday.”
Behind his own eyelids, Arthur could picture clearly how beautiful the place Emily spoke of was and would be. He could see high, rolling hills to compliment her river and the willow trees on the bank, which were tall and strong and by now had grown down into the waters. He saw the grass moving like the waves of the ocean in his mind's eye, and for the first time in a long time, he felt peace.
“I'll take you there,” he said suddenly, making Emily looked at him, a soft inquiring sound leaving her.
“I'll take you back there,” he said, moving to take her hands and kissing them in a pledge, “I swear to you, that if we survive this – I will take you back there. And you don't have to stay there alone.”
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With this Ring
Inspired by this tweet by @prayformalec!
read on ao3
Alec looks down at the box in his hands. He feels the weight of it, almost overwhelming but so damned good.
It’s the weight of expectation, anticipation.
The rings shines dully in the late evening light. Alec’s in his office and it’s a rare quiet moment. Most of his shadowhunters are out on patrol and Alec had been working through an extensive Excel spreadsheet when his thoughts had snagged on the box hiding in his middle desk drawer.
The Lightwood family ring was always dangled over Alec’s head like a particularly tasty carrot. He remembers his grandfather wearing it on his middle finger like the most prized jewel. He’d died when Alec was fourteen but Alec had always remembered spending a few weeks in the summer languishing in his family’s home in Alicante.
Even so young, that summer reprieve had been chock full of lessons. His grandfather had been an imposing man, a stalwart shadowhunter to his core with little patience for frivolity. Still, he’d had a special fondness for Alec and Alec still holds a few good memories from his summers in Idris.
Mornings had been reserved for humanities lessons. While the Academy had touched on Machiavelli's The Prince-- in its original Italian-- and Sun Tzu’s Art of War, their curriculum had focused on works that were directly applicable to being a shadowhunter and Head of the Institute one day. One of his grandfather’s only pleasures had been reading. He’d loved the classics just as much as paperback romances and he’d made sure to have a reading list ready for Alec as soon as he arrived on the estate every summer.
Alec remembers cool mornings spent the library whose shelves were fit to bursting with books ranging from antique weapons catalogs to Jane Austen’s entire collection to old, leather-bound family journals.
After a quick lunch in town or in the kitchen, Alec would spend his afternoons training. While his grandfather wasn’t quite the soldier he’d been a few decades ago, he’d been one of the best in his class and was still a master instructor. When Alec had first been debating on his weapon of choice, his grandfather had ran the gambit but after trying dozens of different weapons, Alec had finally decided on the bow.
It was pure coincidence that his grandfather had also favored archery.
Spending several hours training, Alec had then gone upstairs to his room, showered, and come down to dinner at seven sharp every evening. There, he’d been taught the proper way to eat soup, which fork was used for which course, and how to converse with a Clave official on any topic of their choosing.
It had been daunting and exhausting but a part of Alec had thrived. He’d been sent off to the parlor while his grandfather enjoyed his after-dinner glass of scotch and Alec had used that time to wander around the room, looking at family pictures and heirlooms that had been passed down through the generations.
Sometimes, he’d just go over to the open french doors that overlooked the balcony and stand at the edge of the room, letting the warm summer breeze wash over him.
He’d think about how fast summer always seemed to pass and how he only had a month until he’d be back at the Academy. The summer he turned twelve, his thoughts had been preoccupied with a boy in his class and the way that when he laughed, it was like the whole damn sun was hidden in his smile.
Alec hadn’t let his thoughts go much further. Even in his own mind, he shied away from the truth, that inevitable truth that he knew-- deep down, instinctively-- would go over about as well as a grenade.
In Idris for the summer, alone with just his grandfather and housekeeping staff, Alec was as free as he could be. While his grandfather was strict and had very definite ideas of how a Lightwood should behave, Alec loved it there. Alec had learned a lot from the gruff, brusque man including just how important family was and the importance of heirlooms that signaled just how high the Lightwood's pedestal was. Alec doesn't remember ever seeing his grandfather without the sturdy family ring on his hand, a symbol to everyone of his place in the world.
Those summer nights, after twenty minutes or so, his grandfather would come into the room with a maid and teach Alec different dances. There was the waltz, the quadrille, and a few country dances specific to Idris that Alec painstakingly learned. The maid, just a few years older than him, was an unwitting friend of Alec’s and distantly he wonders what she’s doing now.
The house had been shuttered when his grandfather had died and the staff let go, Robert’s mother having passed on almost fifteen years prior. He can still see the way pristine white cloths had covered the furniture, the house staff hurrying around making arrangements.
Robert and Maryse had been in the middle of things, barking orders. Robert had been given the ring after the funeral ceremony and Alec remembers the way his father had clutched at the ring like it was a living thing.
Catching Alec studying him, Robert had said, This ring will be yours someday, Alec.
He’d winked. I won’t make you wait until I’m dead and buried in the City of Bones, though. This will be yours when you find your perfect wife. Any girl would be love to have the Lightwood family ring in her possession. She’ll know just what an honor it is that you’re bestowing upon her.
Alec had stared at the ring and all of a sudden, it wasn’t a warm memory of his grandfather twisting it around his finger in thought. No, as Alec looked at the ring, it felt like a noose was tightening over his neck.
He remembers thinking that he’d never want the damned ring, that he’d rather throw it into the fucking ocean that give it to some girl that he could never love, not really and not in the way either of them deserved. The truth is, by the time Lydia had come around and Alec had proposed, they very thought of the ring had been too much for him and he'd resolved to buy her a ring whenever he had the change. Now that he thinks about it, he never did give Lydia a ring, which he supposed is all well and good for how that engagement turned out.
What a difference a decade makes, Alec thinks.
As he looks down at the ring now, Alec doesn’t feel that crushing shame and guilt choking him. No, instead he sees possibility and a future so bright he can hardly stand it.
Things might be shit now but Alec swore ages ago that he’d never leave Magnus’s side and he can’t think of another way to show his boyfriend that than to become his husband.
Husband.
Just the word makes Alec catch his breath, nerves and hope wrapping around each other tight enough to make him dizzy.
He wasn’t lying to Lorenzo, wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. It’s an old shadowhunter wive’s tale for a reason. Their kind loves once and loves fiercely and Alec had known the minute he’d started striding down the aisle at his disastrous wedding-to-be with Lydia that he’d found his person, the one man he would love above all others and for eternity.
He hopes to hell Magnus feels the same, that he sees a future with Alec in twisting shades of gold and blue.
With this ring, Alec wants Magnus to know the love and pride that’s become a constant hum under his skin. He wants everyone to know Magnus owns his heart and that he’s proud to stand next to the love of his life, for the rest of his life.
Still though, as Alec starts to think about, something starts to niggle in the back of his brain.
Alec would have to be a fool not to realize-- belated but eventually all the same-- that maybe Magnus wouldn’t want his ring-- this ring. He’s heard Magnus talk before, about the way shadowhunters sneered at him and his friends, the way they broke plates and hid their prized possessions in their prejudice and ignorance.
Maybe, Alec wonders, his family ring would be another ugly reminder to Magnus of shadowhunters and their hateful, ignorant behavior. Too traditional, too possessive.
With that thought in mind, a piece of Alec-- a very small, tiny piece-- is disappointed. While he now sees nothing but pride and security in the metal, he realizes that he’s fortunate in that regard.
Angel knows he doesn’t want to give Magnus any reason to say no. If Magnus didn’t like the ring-- if there was a piece, no matter how minuscule, that was wary to accept-- Alec didn't want to taint the start of their forever with an archaic, admittedly one-sided display of his love.
He sighs a little, sweeping a thumb over the ornate ring before closing the box with a snap that rings with finality.
Tossing the box back into his drawer, Alec turns towards his computer and starts looking up New York jewelers.
It’s an exhaustive mission but Alec’s never been one to back away from a challenge. He goes to a dozen jewelers in the city looking for the perfect ring. While his wealth can’t quite measure up to Magnus’s, the Lightwoods have always been affluent and money’s practically no object.
Alec visits a few places by himself, wary of inviting anyone else to join him lest they try to steer him in a different direction.
He has a vision in his head. He’ll know it when he sees it.
Still, it takes longer than he’d thought to find it. He finally brings in Jace and Izzy when he finds himself studying yet another glass display hopelessly. Texting his siblings the next address on his list for the afternoon, he’s a little surprised to see them standing about on the sidewalk outside the jeweler’s when he arrives.
“What are you doing here,” he asks, approaching them.
Izzy rolls her eyes, glaring at him. “You text us an address with no message? We thought you’d run into a group of demons and needed help. We ran over here.”
“Speed runes activated and everything,” Jace adds, looking a little miffed that there are no demons to kill.
Shaking his head impatiently, Alec brushes past them, towards the door of the jeweler’s in Midtown. By the looks of their website, it’s a small, family run business that was established over a century ago. While Alec’s hopes have severely dampened over the past weeks of fruitless searching, there’s something about this place that makes him think that his luck might just be turning.
“There are no demons here. I just need your opinion.”
“On what,” Jace asks absently as they walk into the jeweler’s, a cheery little bell signalling their entrance.
“Oh, Alec,” Izzy breathes as soon as she steps inside, turning to face him. “We’re at a jewelry store.”
She blinks rapidly, and Alec sees the sheen of tears just forming as Isabelle realizes why they’re here.
“Don’t you start,” he warns, though he can’t stop a grin from stealing over his face. “Or I’ll start too and Jace will have to dry both of us out.”
Alec’s barely finished speaking when Izzy steps closer, wrapping tight arms around him, hugging him so hard that Alec’s lungs constrict.
“I’m so happy for you, mi hermano, and I can’t wait to hear how Magnus reacts.”
“Wait,” Jace asks incredulously. “You’re proposing?”
Rolling her eyes, Isabelle pulls way from Alec to punch Jace in the shoulder. “Of course he’s proposing. Why else would Alec ask us to meet him at a jeweler’s?”
Alec watches as the light bulb flares over Jace’s head before he starts grinning and pulls Alec over to him for a hard hug and rough pat on the back. “Congratulations, Alec. This is huge!”
Standing back, Alec rubs the back of his neck in a nervous gesture that’s betrayed him since he was little. “Thanks, man. Do you guys think he’ll say yes?”
Resting his hands on Alec’s shoulders, Jace’s fingers press into Alec’s skin, grounding him as he makes an effort to glare right into his skull. “There is no world where Magnus Bane doesn’t want to marry you, Alec. The entire shadow world knows just how gone he is over you.”
“Jace is right for once,” Isabelle says, voice certain. “Magnus loves you, Alec. He’s going to say yes.”
“Let’s hope so,” he mutters under his breath. Taking a deep breath, Alec shakes the nerves out as best he can before looking up at his siblings who are staring at him with a mix of joy and pride.
“Okay, I’ve been searching all over the city for a ring and you two are here for moral support.”
“Got it,” Jace says easily before wandering over to one of the nearest display cases. “Anything we should be on the lookout for?”
Alec’s voice is distracted as he replies, “No, not really. I’ll know it when I see it.”
That might be getting old but Alec clings onto the hope stubbornly.
The three of them spend the next hour looking over the jeweler’s selection. Alec looks at rings, talking with a sales associate about what he’s looking for.
No matter that this is the twenty-third place he’s been to this month, Alec still feels indescribably happy to explain that he’s looking for an engagement ring.
He’s just about given up hope when he comes to the last section of the rings display. Jace and Izzy are across the store bickering as his sister tries on a bracelet but Alec barely pays them any mind as his eyes sweep over the last half dozen rings.
His eyes sweep over one before jumping back. Studying it, Alec tries to move on again but something won’t let him go.
With a sharp nod towards the ring in question, Alec straightens as the jeweler carefully takes it out of the case, placing the display on top of the glass counter.
Reaching for it, Alec feels something restless climb up his spine as he picks it up, shifting it so that the light bounces over the white gold band. His eyes narrow as he considers the design before a thought pops into his head.
Isabelle and Jace, seeing Alec carefully studying the ring, wonder back over and as he explains what he’s thinking, Isabelle’s eyes widen before she starts nodding enthusiastically.
What follows is a long, arduous consultation as Alec commissions a ring to fit his specifications. While the jeweler didn’t have anything like it in stock, they’d prided their family’s business on being willing to provide custom orders.
Alec watches as the jeweler sketches a design, pointing to a dozen areas he wants changed. There’s back and forth but finally, finally Alec pulls the sketch closer and takes in every detail.
It’s perfect.
He places his order and Jace claps him on the back as they all stand up from the meeting, declaring that this special occasion called for a special dinner.
They all go to their favorite steakhouse on the Upper West Side. Alec can’t quite remember the last time he’d spent such a pleasant evening with his parabatai and sister. The drinks had just kept on coming and the food had been delicious. As Alec walks into his apartment, the home he shares with Magnus-- the love of his life, the very beat of his heart-- a little unsteadily with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, Alec can’t quite believe his good fortune.
It’s late when he gets back and Magnus is already in bed, ancient text that he must’ve been translating for a client sprawled over his chest, moving in time to steady, deep breaths.
Carefully, Alec lifts the book and marks his boyfriend’s place before setting the book down on their bedside table. Crawling in on his side of the bed, Alec shifts closer to the warmth radiating from Magnus, laying his head over his heart.
Distantly, Alec thinks that there’s no better place in the world than right here, as close as he can get to his boyfriend-- and if he has anything to say about it, his soon to be husband.
A couple of months later, Alec gets a phone call from the jeweler’s letting him know that his ring is ready for pickup. He tries to focus on work but within the hour, he’s heading over to the jeweler’s.
He’s greeted by the same salesperson who’d helped him earlier and as he sees her set the blue satin box onto the counter, something in Alec rises, the sheer emotion in him staggering as it squeezes his heart in a vise grip.
Slowly, he reaches out and thumbs the box open, the breath stilling in his chest as he sees the finished product.
By the Angel, he thinks. It’s perfect.
The white gold band reflects the overhead lights. Along the length, there are a dozen miniature sapphires circling around the band in alternating tones of blue and gold. Their color is warm, deep, and Alec can’t stop shifting the ring so that the light catches deep inside the gems.
It’s a mix of them and Alec hopes the sentiment comes across. Blue for warlocks, gold for shadowhunters, winding shades of love and marriage and a happily ever after that Alec never could’ve dreamt up.
He doesn’t bat an eye at the final bill, at the several zeroes rounding out the total, instead swiping his credit card with an almost jittery sense of satisfaction.
He’d pay that price a hundred times over if it meant the finished product would give him the same happiness and anticipation.
Alec’s ready for this. Half of him thinks that he’s never been ready for anything else as much as he’s ready to be the other half of Mr. Lightwood-Bane.
Just the thought of the name makes him shudder, an almost overwhelming weight settling over his shoulders.
It’s a welcome weight though because it means that this matters. This is the biggest gesture of Alec’s life but he’s so, so ready for that next step.
As Alec walks out of the jeweler’s, box secured in his pocket, his mind spins with plans.
He’s been brainstorming proposals for ages and now that he has the ring, there’s nothing else holding him back from asking Magnus the biggest question of his life.
Once, ages ago, Magnus had said in a cold, bitter voice, Marriage is a wonderful institution, not that I should know.
As Alec walks home, ring a heavy presence in his pocket, he vows to show Magnus just how wonderful marriage can be.
Please say yes, Alec prays to every angel he can name and a few more besides. He continues on his way, lost in thought and so damn happy he wonders how a body's supposed to contain it all.
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Doctor Who: Previous Guest Stars Who’d Be Great as the New Doctor
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It’s not unusual, in the world of Doctor Who, for the same actor to play more than one role on screen. From classic to modern Doctor Who, Nicholas Courtney, Ian Marter, Lalla Ward, Jaqueline Hill, Jean Marsh, Adjoa Andoh, Eve Myles, Naoko Mori, Vinette Robinson and more have all played multiple parts in the whoniverse. Before she debuted as companion Martha Jones, Freema Agyeman was a Torchwood employee who fell foul of the Cybermen in series two’s ‘Army of Ghosts’. Karen Gillan was a seer in series four episode ‘The Fires of Pompeii’ before she recurred as Eleven’s companion Amy Pond. Even the Doctor has had test runs. Colin Baker played a Gallifreyan commander in season twenty before taking over from Peter Davison. Peter Capaldi appeared in ‘The Fires of Pompeii’ as well as playing John Frobisher on Torchwood before taking up residence in the TARDIS.
In the search for the new Doctor then, it makes sense to rifle through those actors the show already picked once to see who might be asked back. Continuity can be handled if need be – just do what Russell T. Davies did and make up something about spacial genetic multiplicity, or what Steven Moffat did and pretend it was all part of the Doctor’s plan to remind him to be a good man. In a few cases, the shared genetics wouldn’t even be an issue as the actor in question’s first appearance was either solely as a voice, or beneath too many layers of prosthetics to matter.
Gliding over a few previous guest stars whose current filming commitments likely take them out of the running (Andrew Garfield, Carey Mulligan, James Norton, Felicity Jones, Gemma Chan and Gugu Mbutha-Raw are probably all tied up…), here’s a choice selection of guest actors since 2005 who could all make fantastic, and very different, Doctors.
Chris Addison
Played: AI interface ‘Seb’, who greeted the recently deceased to Missy’s Nethersphere. Appeared in: Two-part Series Eight finale ‘Dark Water/Death in Heaven‘. Watch his stand-up and there’s a real Tenth Doctor energy about writer-director-producer-comedian-actor Chris Addison (The Thick of It, In the Loop, Veep). That probably means his time has come and gone on Doctor Who, as the show isn’t likely to want to repeat itself at this stage. Addison also has his plate full with the third series of Sky/FX’s excellent comedy-drama Breeders, but you could definitely picture him at the TARDIS console, couldn’t you?
Arsher Ali
Played: Bennett, a bookish recent military recruit to a Scottish underwater mining facility in 2119. Appeared in: Series 9 two-parter ‘Under the Lake/Before the Flood‘ Part of a large crew (initially at least) we didn’t see loads of Arsher Ali in his Doctor Who role, but what we saw was enough to convince that he has the presence and bearing of a potential Doctor. He was great as the lead in BBC’s Informer and as a conflicted journalist in the first series of The Missing, as well as in supporting role in Line of Duty‘s best series. Add all that to his breadth of stage experience and he’s a highly intriguing prospect.
Percelle Ascott
Played: Delph, a member of the Ux, humanoid aliens who live for thousands of years and have the power of telepathic inter-dimensional engineering (they can teleport planets). Appeared in: Season 11, Episode 10 ‘The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos‘. Not the only entry on this list with a Doctor Who-adjacent role in his back catalogue (see also: Anjli Mohindra in The Sarah-Jane Adventures), as a teenager, Ascott played science geek Benny in Russell T. Davies’ Wizards Vs Aliens. He was great then, but really showed his range in cancelled-too-soon Netflix supernatural drama The Innocents, where he stole the show. When he popped back up opposite Jodie Whittaker’s Doctor as the wise and conscience-led Delph, it was hard not to imagine what he might do in the Doctor’s role.
Zawe Ashton
Played: Lieutenant Journey Blue of the Combined Galactic Resistance, a solider on the Aristotle. Appeared in: the Ben Wheatley-directed Series 8 episode ‘Into the Dalek‘. A regular on ‘Next Doctor’ wishlists for some time now, Zawe Ashton is a terrific actor who came to fame as hedonist Vod in Channel 4 student comedy Fresh Meat and who’s recently been seen in Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale. In ‘Into the Dalek’ she played a ‘shoot first ask questions later’ soldier, but Ashton has the range for serious, absurd and very funny – in short, everything required to make a great Doctor.
Maxim Baldry
Played: Dr Polidori, a nineteenth century character who was part of Mary and Percy Shelley’s social circle. Appeared in: Series 12’s ‘The Haunting of Villa Diodati‘, about the summer Mary Shelley conceived her famous science-fiction novel Frankenstein. Baldry’s scored a role in Amazon Prime Video’s new mega-money Lord of the Rings TV series, so his dance card is likely full for now, but he’s just the sort of actor to breathe fresh life into the role of the Doctor, much in the way Matt Smith did back in 2010. He’s probably best recognised right now as Viktor, the asylum-seeking boyfriend of Russell Tovey’s character in Russell T. Davies’ future-predicting Years and Years, but the Russian-British actor has been acting in films since he was a child.
Sanjeev Bhaskar
Played: UNIT’s Colonel Ahmed, a colleague of Kate Lethbridge-Stewart in the fight against Missy’s Cybermen-from-corpses wicked plan. Appeared in: Series 8 finale ‘Death in Heaven‘. This Doctor Who role was just not enough of Sanjeev Bhaskar, an actor-writer-comedian whose role as DS Sunny Khan in ITV detective series Unforgotten has elevated him to the status of national treasure (partly because of his backpack, but mostly because of his decency and warm humour). Bhaskar is playing Cain opposite Asim Chaudhry’s Abel in Netflix’s forthcoming The Sandman series, and there’s series five of Unforgotten on the way, but wouldn’t he be great as the Doctor? As would another member of his family (see below)…
Mark Bonnar
Played: 22nd century miner Jimmy Wicks in the one with the ‘ganger’ clones. Appeared in: Series 6 two-parter ‘The Rebel Flesh/The Almost People’. No, of course they won’t let another funny, clever, slightly scary Scot with a brilliant face be the Doctor so soon after Peter Capaldi, but in a parallel universe, Mark Bonnar would make a very fine Doctor – something that hasn’t escaped Big Finish. He’s got it all (funny, clever, slightly scary, brilliant face) and frequently steals whichever show he’s in. Watch this two-parter, Catastrophe, Unforgotten series two and the brilliant Guilt (series two of which is approaching) for evidence of that.
Kevin Eldon
Played: Ribbons of the Seven Stomachs, a trader in the ‘Antizone’ obsessed with the Doctor’s “tubular” (or Sonic Screwdriver), and the voice of companion Antimony in an animated online adventure. Appeared in: Series 11’s ‘It Takes You Away‘ and 2001 webcast ‘Death Comes to Time’. It just seems a waste for the multi-talented Kevin Eldon to only play just one (or technically two, but just one on-screen) role on Doctor Who. And because his series 11 appearance was under a faceful of prosthetics, it wouldn’t even cause any continuity errors for him to come back in the role of the Doctor. Or a companion. Or another alien. Whatever it is, just give us more Eldon please.
O-T Fagbenle
Played: ‘Other Dave’, an engineer on an expedition to The Library who was eaten by the Vashta Nerada but brought back to life in the computer core. Appeared in: Series 4 two-parter ‘Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead‘ Fagbenle has recently been seen as Natasha’s fixer in Black Widow, June’s husband Luke in The Handmaid’s Tale, and as the lead character in sitcom Maxxx, about a washed-up former boy band member. The man has dramatic and comedy range, a very good American accent (not necessarily relevant here) and excellent screen presence. He’d rock the role of the Doctor.
Siobhan Finneran
Played: 17th century landlady/witch prosecutor Becka Savage/Morax queen Appeared in: Series 11’s ‘The Witchfinders‘. If the new Doctor’s going to be a woman in her early fifties, then it should really go to Jo Martin, but if she’s busy, how great would Siobhan Finneran be? The Happy Valley and Downton Abbey actor’s a treat in everything. She can be equal parts funny and imperious, and you can easily imagine her running circles around alien fiends and having a load of fun doing it.
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Tamsin Grieg
Played: the Nurse who inserts Adam’s infospike on Satellite 5. Appeared in: Series 1 Simon Pegg-starring episode ‘The Long Game’, alongside Anna Maxwell-Martin (who might also deserve a place on this list come to think about it). Tamsin Grieg would make such a good Doctor it almost makes you angry she’s never played the role. She has the dramatic chops to deliver all the world-saving speeches, and the comedic skill to give it all a sparkling light touch. She was chilling in her small Series 1 role, but it only showed a tiny portion of what she can do. Also, wouldn’t she look great in a signature coat.
Suranne Jones
Played: Idris, into whom the ‘soul’ of the TARDIS was poured, making her the ship incarnate until her body died. Appeared in: Series 6 episode ‘The Doctor’s Wife‘, written by Neil Gaiman. Perhaps a bit too similar to Jodie Whittaker to be a likely successor, but you only have to see Suranne Jones in BBC/HBO drama Gentleman Jack to know that she’s made of Doctor material. As nineteenth-century landowner and famed lesbian Anne Lister, she’s cleverer and faster than everybody else, with a fierce sense of boundary-breaking why-not-ness, and plenty of emotion. Look at most of Jones’ roles, including that of the TARDIS itself, and she’d be great in the part, especially if her regular collaborator Sally Wainwright is enticed into the showrunner gig.
Paterson Joseph
Played: the venal Rodrick, who competed against Rose Tyler in The Weakest Link on the Game Station. Appeared in: Series 1 two-parter ‘Bad Wolf/The Parting of the Ways’. Paterson Joseph was famously up for the role of the Eleventh Doctor that ultimately went to Matt Smith, and has been a stalwart entry in ‘Who next?’ lists of this sort ever since, so… this isn’t going to happen, but wouldn’t it have been great if it had? The Peep Show, The Leftovers, Noughts + Crosses actor and Big Finish voice artist is currently showing off his commander chops in BBC One submarine thriller Vigil.
Ralf Little
Played: Steadfast, one of the few crew members of an off-world colony ship who weren’t murdered by nano-bots. Appeared in: Series 10 episode ‘Smile‘. He’s currently solving baroque murders on a fictional Caribbean island in Death in Paradise, but none of that lot ever last long, which could free Little up for another spin in the TARDIS. Little has been a familiar face on British TV for years, after playing feckless teenager Anthony on The Royle Family and starring in a BBC Three sitcom that spanned the entire noughties, but now a little older, with plenty of experience under his belt, it could be Ralf Little’s time.
Susan Lynch
Played: Pilot Angstrom, a competitor in an intergalactic race who meets Thirteen on her second ever adventure. Appeared in: Series 11 episode ‘The Ghost Monument’. You don’t need telling why Susan Lynch would make a great Doctor, just watch any decent British drama from the last decade and she’s in it, showing you. From Save Me to Unforgotten to Happy Valley to Killing Eve to any number of TV and film roles, she’s a scene-stealer who can play mystery, tragedy, power… everything the role calls for.
Daniel Mays
Played: Alex, the unwitting foster dad of a Tenza-in-human-form son, George. Appeared in: Series 6 episode ‘Night Terrors‘ written by Mark Gatiss. RADA-trained Danny Mays can do comedy, drama, has some serious dance moves, and was a Line of Duty guest star, so we know he’d have no problem at all learning the Doctor’s long speeches. If the TARDIS wanted to cast a Gallifreyan Doctor by way of Essex, he’d be top of the list.
T’Nia Miller
Played: The General, Military Commander of the Time Lords, in their Twelfth Regeneration. Appeared in: Series 9 finale ‘Hell Bent’. The Years & Years and Foundation star played a Time Lord in her Doctor Who debut and can even already tick ‘Regeneration’ off the to-do list. Miller clearly has the bearing and gravitas required of the Doctor, looks great even in impractically massive armour, and was the absolute stand-out in Netflix’s 2020 horror series The Haunting of Bly Manor. If they could work out the continuity for a reappearance, she’d rock the role.
Lucian Msamati
Played: Guido, the father of Isabella, a new enrolment at Rosanna Calvierri’s school for girls. Appeared in: Series 5 episode ‘The Vampires of Venice.’ Since appearing in this 2010 Doctor Who episode, Msamati has gone on to appear in major series, from Game of Thrones to Gangs of London and His Dark Materials. He’s an experienced stage actor too, who’d be sure to bring dramatic heft to the role of the Doctor.
Anjli Mohindra
Played: the Scorpion-like Queen of the Skithra, a species that relies on other species for their engineering. Appeared in: Series 12 episode ‘Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror‘. Anjli Mohindra already has a long history with Doctor Who, having appeared under layers of prosthetics and make-up in Series 12, provided the voice of the Mechanoid Queen for animated Time Lord Victorious series Daleks!, and playing the recurring role of Rani Chandra from series two of The Sarah Jane Adventures. Would that preclude the Vigil and Bodyguard star from stepping behind the TARDIS console in the top role? Nah.
Sophie Okonedo
Played: Elizabeth X of The United Kingdom aka Liz 10 of Starship UK. Appeared in: Series 5 episodes ‘The Beast Below’ and ‘The Pandorica Opens’. One of our finest actors, Sophie Okonedo not only played the future queen opposite Matt Smith and Karen Gillan in Doctor Who, she was also the voice of the Shalka Doctor’s companion in the BBC’s ‘Scream of the Shalka’ animated webcast, way back when. She’s currently starring in Amazon’s Wheel of Time adaptation and voices the key role of angel Xaphania in His Dark Materials, so probably has too full a plate to step into the TARDIS, but casting her as the Doctor would be a no-brainer.
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Tom Riley
Played: Robin Hood. Appeared in: 2014 Series 8 episode written by Mark Gatiss ‘Robot of Sherwood’. Tom Riley played a legendary genius and multi-hyphenate over three seasons of Da Vinci’s Demons so taking on the role of the Doctor wouldn’t really be a stretch. The actor is currently playing Augie in HBO/Sky drama The Nevers, which started life as a Joss Whedon-created supernatural fantasy before the showrunner left the project after the first six episodes.
Danny Sapani
Played: Colonel Manton/Runaway (depending on your perspective). Appeared in: Series 6 episode ‘A Good Man Goes to War’. The River Song/Melody Pond revelation overshadowed much else that happened in ‘A Good Man Goes to War’, but nonetheless, seasoned Brit actor Danny Sapani made an impression as enemy of the Doctor, Colonel Manton, who conspired with Madame Kovarian to kidnap Amy and Rory’s baby. Sapani’s enjoying a long career on screen and stage, with stand-out TV roles in Penny Dreadful, Harlots and Killing Eve, as well as the upcoming part of Captain Jacob Keyes in video game adaptation Halo.
Amit Shah
Played: Rahul, brother to missing person Asha Chandra, both victims of Tzim-Sha. Appeared in: The Series 11 opener ‘The Woman Who Fell to Earth‘. A skilled comedic actor who has a habit of stealing scenes, even in serious supporting roles like this one, or last year’s turn as a doctor experimenting on children in His Dark Materials, Amit Shah would be a great surprise to find in the TARDIS. Experienced but not yet a household name, there’s a Matt Smith vibe about this one. Revive him as a companion, at the very least?
Peter Serafinowicz
Played: the voice of alien warlord The Fisher King (though the character’s screams were provided by Slipknot front man Corey Taylor). Appeared in: Series 9 episode ‘Before the Flood‘. Likely not the photo of Peter Serafinowicz his Nan keeps on the mantelpiece, this is the villain he voiced in a Series 9 two-parter. It’s Serafinowicz out of the make-up and prosthetics though, who’d make an intriguing prospect as the Doctor. Great voice(s), great face, serious presence, humour, loads of experience… what else do you need?
Nina Sosanya
Played: Trish Webber, mother of Chloe Webber, the little girl endowed with the psychic powers of an Isolus. (And in Big Finish audio adventure ‘Aquitaine’ Captain Maynard’). Appeared in: Series 2 Olympics episode ‘Fear Her‘. A regular RTD collaborator, with previous roles in Casanova and Wizards Vs Aliens as well as Doctor Who, Nina Sosanya is a joy to see in any cast, which must be why she’s (thankfully) in everything. She’s great in comedy (Good Omens, WIA, Staged, Nathan Barley) and in drama (Last Tango in Halifax, Killing Eve, His Dark Materials, Little Birds) and would no doubt make a very convincing centuries-old two-hearted big-brained Time Lord. Get her a statement coat and get her in the TARDIS.
Meera Syal
Played: Dr Nasreen Chaudhry, the scientist in charge of an ill-fated deep drilling mission in a Welsh village. (As well as voicing audio stories and audiobook Borrowed Time). Appeared in: Series 5 two-parter ‘The Hungry Earth’ and ‘Cold Blood‘. Actor-writer-comedian Meera Syal, CBE, had a fair crack of the whip in Series 5 Silurian two-parter, but would always, always be welcome back for more. As well as comedic talent, she has the dramatic presence, brains and stature to play the Doctor. Her husband Sanjeev Bhaskar (see above) will just have to fight her for the role.
Joivan Wade
Played: Bristol graffiti artist Christopher Riggens aka Rigsy. Appeared in: Series 8’s ‘Flatline’ and Series 9’s ‘Face the Raven‘. Joivan Wade is currently starring as Victor Stone in Doom Patrol for the MCU, so it may be a while before he returns to the UK, but his two appearances in Doctor Who proved him to be a charismatic talent who’d energise the TARDIS if welcomed back.
Harriet Walter
Played: British Technology Secretary and later, Prime Minister Jo Patterson. Appeared in: Series 12’s ‘Revolution of the Daleks‘ (as well as voicing the role of Beatrice in audio story ‘The Boy That Time Forgot’). Having a Dame in the TARDIS would be quite something; that Dame being Harriet Walter would be off the charts brilliant. Just look at her – the face, the voice, the hard-to-define quality that means the moment she opens her mouth, everybody shuts up and listens. Harriet Walter, stage and screen star of Killing Eve, Succession, The Crown, Downton Abbey and so much more, would make a very fine Doctor indeed.
Marc Warren
Played: Elton Pope, co-founder member of LINDA, a group of humans who meet to swap stories on their encounters with the Doctor. Appeared in: Little-loved Series 2 episode ‘Love & Monsters‘. A very familiar face on British screens, with regular roles in hits including Hustle, Mad Dogs, The Good Wife and The Musketeers, there’s always been something about Marc Warren that makes you think he’d make a really great alien. See him as The Gentleman in Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, or Mr Teatime in The Hogfather, and you’ll agree. Top Doctor potential.
Gemma Whelan
Played: the voice of loads of characters for Big Finish audio adventures, but never (yet) on screen. Appeared in: ‘Ninth Doctor Adventures’, ‘Dalek Universe’, ‘Counter-Measures’ and more. Always a treat wherever you find her on screen, actor-comedian Gemma Whelan is best recognised as warrior leader of the Iron Islands, Yara Greyjoy in Game of Thrones but she’s been great in Killing Eve, Gentleman Jack, Upstart Crow, The End of the F***ing World, and recently, a killer episode of Inside No. 9. If Doctor Who is looking for another late-thirties Yorkshire lass to take on the Doctor’s mantle in future, go Whelan or go home.
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Doctor Who Series 13 will air on BBC One and BBC America this autumn.
The post Doctor Who: Previous Guest Stars Who’d Be Great as the New Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.
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What do you waste your time doing the most? Scrolling social media for sure
Have you ever been backstabbed? If so, what for? Well kind of. But if anything, I sabotage MYSELF the most.
If you could be anything, what would you be? Mentally stable
If you could be any TV show character, who would you choose to be? Sabrina the Teenage Witch
If you switched genders for one day, what would you do? Not much, really. That doesn't appeal to me in the slightest.
What power would you choose to have if you were superhuman? Time travel
What stereotype/clique would you say you are more like? I was a floater who was friends with everyone, honestly.
How do you handle being under pressure? Oh I have a whole slew of unhealthy mechanisms! Take your pick!
What does your phone cover look like? It's pink & floral which is pretty much my whole aesthetic
Have you ever done anything illegal? If so, what was it? I jay-walk every day on my walk to work. Bad to the bone!
What is the perfect weather to you? Sunny & brisk
If you were a stripper, what would your stage name be? Vanilla Blonde
What is your favorite holiday, why? 4th of July because it's low-maintenance but lots of fun. I love the other "major" holidays but they come with too much stress
What is your least favorite bug? FUCK LADYBUGS. I hate them!
What is your favorite thing in the opposite sex? The way they put their hand on the passenger's seat when backing up, and the way they remove their shirts with one hand (like magic!)
What is your biggest fear? Losing my loved ones, dying, being alone, never reaching happiness/fulfillment
What is something your looking forward to? Date night tonight! And then going on my friend's boat tomorrow- fun weekend ahead of me! Just gotta get through this shift...
If you could live on any planet, which one would you choose? I'm barely equipped to live on Earth
What is your favorite junk food? Chips and dip!
If you could have any animal as a pet, which one would you choose? Goats
What is your favorite time of the day? Whenever I can lay in bed and just chill the hell out
What name do you wish you had? I love my name, I wouldn't have it any other way
What would your dream home be like? Airy but cozy, with a spa style bathroom (and tub) and a library
What is your favorite color? Pink pink pink
Where is your favorite place to be? In bed?
What is your favorite fruit? It's hard to narrow it down but I'd probably pick peaches or strawberries.
What is something you’re embarrassed about? I have plenty...
What is one thing you’d like to be the best at? I have no desire to be the BEST at anything, honestly. But I do wish I was more motivated to get BETTER at my existing skills.
Ever been on Chatroulette? (; Sure have
What is the song that you know every single word to? One that I'm really proud of is We Didn't Start the Fire. I printed the lyrics out one random summer day as a kid and studied them. It's my party trick!
Most painful memory? Nora passing. But in some ways, it's one of my most beautiful too. I got the chance to say goodbye and tell her how much I loved her, which is an absolute GIFT.
If you could be anywhere, where would you be? I'd be at home in bed. Or maybe on a warm beach.
What is your favorite place in the whole wide world? See above
A word that to you is impossible to spell? I never spells words like psychology, psychiatrist etc correctly. That letter combo trips me up!
What’s something that you collect? Books, journals, candles, David Bowie memorabilia
Listener or Talker? Listener, for sure
Thing you hate the most about the opposite sex? Just their overall like... lack of awareness? Women are so much more alert and in-tune with their surroundings. Men haven't a clue.
Could have anything you wanted right now, what would you have? No mental illnesses?
Scariest movie you’ve ever seen? Session Nine What is the most awkward moment you’ve been in? My entire life is just a series of back-to-back awkward moments
One of your quirks? Walking on my toes
What type of phone do you have? Iphone 7, I think?
Favorite quote or saying? Those who don't believe in magic will never find it
Something you wanna do before you die? Publish a book, see the Northern Lights, and have a family
What is a habit of yours? Excessive worrying Look around you.. What is the thing you like the most around you? My phone, I s'pose
Favorite possession? I love all my stuff.
Favorite shirt? Hmm, I like all of them
What is the name of your best friend? I have several
What is your favorite shoes? Flip flops I guess, but I'd prefer to just be barefoot over anything
Least favorite singer? Can't stand Halsey
Something you love and hate at the same time? I'll go with alcohol
Are you one of those people who don’t like to admit when their wrong? Nah, I'm quick to accept blame. Even when I shouldn't
Girls who try too much are annoying.. Aren’t they? Incorrect
What color makes you relax? I mean, colors themselves don't make me relax
Are you an awkward type of person? Sure as hell am!
Is it hard for you to make friends? No, I do that quite easily
How would you like to leave this earth? Painlessly and surrounded by loved ones
What do you find stupid but most people like? The show New Girl and just Zooey Deschanel. Sorry to be a hater but I CANNOT STAND that woman.
What is a hobby you have? Reading & writing
What’s your plans for next weekend? I have a pool party on Saturday WOOT WOOT! Have any big dreams? What are they? Didn't I already answer this?
Restaurant that is horrible. Chipotle.
Have a fetish for anything? Mhm, and anyone who knows me relatively well knows what they are.
Do you like long or short surveys? Long, in-depth ones
What age did you stop playing with dolls or action figures? I probably played with them a lot longer than average
Do you think your more mature then most of yours friends? I'm probably less mature than most of 'em
Do you enjoy running? Not even slightly
Something that you are horrible at but wish you were good at. Although I'm not horrible, I wish I was better at singing. I can carry a decent tune but I wish I was GOOD.
A sport you think is dumb? I mean, pretty much all of them. Sports aren't my thing.
What is your favorite food? Pizza, falafel, burritos, ice cream
Ever think about what it would be like to be someone else? Of course.
Night owl or Early Bird? Early Bird
What celebrity would you not mind meeting? Idris Elba
What’s your favorite TV channel? I don't watch actual TV
Have texting? Uh yeah. How old is this survey?
You have 3 wishes. What are they? My dream body, my dream home, endless money
What did you first think about when you woke up? How much I don't wanna get out of bed (frequent thought)
What’s the last thing you thought about before you went to sleep? How much I don't wanna go to work today What do you want to be when you grow up? Or what are you? Happy
Like cartoons? Which one is your favorite? As a kid I loved all the classic Nickelodeon ones. Rugrats, of course, being the best!
Do you watch what you eat? I ought to more...
Have a favorite number? What is it? 7 or 13
Are you quiet or loud? Quiet, mostly.
Were you an annoying baby? No I was actually very well-tempered and the easiest of my sisters.
Worst subject? Maths and sciences of pretty much any kind
Best subject? English, always
What’s your favorite brand of shoe? I don't have one. I like being barefoot best.
What’s your favorite month? Why? I've never really thought about this. Maybe July because it's the birthday month of several family members (myself included), and there's a lot of fun celebrations.
Favorite season? Spring
Least favorite holiday? I like 'em all! Especially ones I get the day off for ha
Do you try new foods or do you stick with what you know you like? I'm a pretty adventurous eater! Aside from the fact I'm vegetarian, I'll give anything a go. I love trying new dishes.
Love pictures or hate them? I HATE being in them and I especially hate when people pressure you into photographs. Let me be ugly in peace!
Have you ever thought about going to Fiji? That'd be nice but who's paying?
What’s your favorite movie character? Elle Words or Princess Aurora
Have any nicknames? What are they? Way too many, the most common being Little Bit/Libit, Lala and Lizzie.
Who do you miss? Nora
Someone have your heart? Someone of your heart but doesn’t know? Glenn, of course <3
Have any sports you love? What are they? Nah. I like watching soccer because I like the players and I (for the most part) understand the game. But I'm not a sports person overall.
Do you keep to yourself or are you out there? I very much keep to myself.
What’s your outlook on life? Weirdly vague question that I'm not sure how to answer...
What is the prettiest object/person/landscape/anything that you have seen? Glenn's face (sorry but it's true)
Do you wear your heart on your sleeve? Oh yes
What’s your style? Whatever I throw together
Did you like this survey? Cause I might make more! I did!
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