#I blame Jon smh

[arabian-batboy]

When you think about it, Damian had so many fun and interesting team-ups that only happened once or twice and we sadly never saw it again? Like Supergirl, Shazam, Constantine, Black Adam, Roy, Stephanie, Cassandra, Duke, Maps, Rose, Grundy, Suren and Green Arrow to name a few.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

(1) “Maybe you should’ve hired Hiccup, because you clearly didn’t know how to train your dragons”.

(2) “Ah yes, it was just bad writing that determined you would be a bad queen. Clearly you were shown to be good at ruling such as when you…ordered the destruction of your enemies again and again and again. And the sacking of cities. Hmm…maybe Sansa and Arya had a point.”

(3) “Aren’t you supposed to care for the Dothraki? I know I’d be pissed if I learned you let them go on a suicide run at the White Walkers.”

[alj4890]

Choices: A Red Carpet Diaries Fan Fic

(Thomas Hunt x OC) inspired by Top Gun Maverick and taken from my A Second Chance AU

A/N: LOL! Okay. Everyone who looks at my fics/moodboards/etc knows that Jon Hamm is my FC for Thomas Hunt. Blame my eternal love of Mad Men, smh. Anyway, due to the violence and sadness going on in my current TRR Dark AU series and that bit of angsty fluff fic with Drake and Olivia and this last angsty one with Riley, I need some fluff, humor, family life, jealousy; all the stuff I normally write for a breather. And now that my husband is out of the hospital and well again (and life has finally calmed down, LOL) I needed a Thomas Hunt fic! I adore the action, romance, and cheesy 80s aspects of the first Top Gun. And yes, I will confess that I saw Top Gun Maverick twice the week it came out. But this sequel knocks it out of the park storyline wise. And maybe because they added a certain Mr. Jon Hamm to the mix makes it even better 👀 So in this fic of mine, it isn't Jon given the role of Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson. It is our beloved Mr. Hunt much to his wife's delight. And yes my OC, Amanda, is given my love of Top Gun and my own personal embarrassing story of what I used to do when playing the original's love song when single and dating as a teenager 🙈 Those poor guys never understood why I insisted on playing such an old soundtrack each date.

@hopelessromantic1352 @krsnlove @trappedinfanfiction @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @aworldoffandoms @tessa-liam @flyawayboo @moodyvalentinestories

Song Inspiration: Take My Breath Away

Masterlist

Going Method

"Cut!" Joseph yelled out. He had a big smile gracing his lips. "That is exactly the reaction I was looking for."

Thomas tried to be grateful for the compliment. It has been nearly two decades since he had stepped back in front of the camera. He knew the reason for deciding to act just this once was because of a desire to work with Joseph Kosinski. His fellow director impressed him with many of his previous films.

He'd also looked forward to finally being able to work with Tom Cruise. The two Hollywood icons tried for nearly fifteen years to find a free moment to collaborate on a film. Each time Thomas had a new project, it seemed that Tom was in the midst of filming a new sequel to his Mission: Impossible franchise or there wasn't a part right for the actor.

Everything about this should be perfect.

Though this was a sequel, and Thomas typically detested such, there was something about the script that drew him into the storyline. This wasn't your typical action movie. It had heart. It touched emotions he hadn't thought possible for a story about a bunch of hotshot pilots.

Thomas should be having the time of his life, instead of fighting a burning jealousy that could only be sparked by one person.

His wife.

Amanda had no idea how badly he wanted to punch Tom Cruise in his still too handsome face. Her reaction to hearing there was not only a sequel to, unknown to her husband, one of her favorite films but that Thomas would be taking part had taken him completely by surprise.

As Thomas made his way back to his trailer, he could still picture his wife's face when he told her he wanted her to come on location with him.

******************

A month earlier...

"I want it to be just the two of us." Thomas slipped his arms around her. "Rachel and Stephen agreed to watch Kathleen and the twins." He smiled softly at her. "We haven't had a vacation of sorts alone since our honeymoon."

"You know I would love that." Amanda leaned in to kiss him. "But we can't be away from the children that long."

"We'll have them visit." He responded. "If they miss us too much, then we will have them stay."

Amanda's smile twisted into a playful grimace. "We both know once Rachel and Stephen are here that you and I will be easily forgotten."

He snorted, shaking his head. It was true. Kathleen, Ian, and Elizabeth adored their aunt and uncle. Nothing made them more excited than getting special time with them. Most of the requests when they came by for a visit were for their parents to stay home while they went out with their fun loving relatives.

"Perhaps time away will make them remember they love us too." Thomas teased, pulling Amanda closer. "And give us a chance to show each other our own feelings."

"Don't you dare give me that look!" Amanda playfully scolded.

"What look?" His lips skated down her nexk

"You know very well which look." She met his lips in a long heated kiss. "That look plus kisses like that got me pregnant twice."

"Must be powerful." He mumbled, kissing her again.

"Very." She sighed softly as his hands moved along her curves. "You never told me what type of movie you will be starring in."

"Costarring." He reminded her. "It is actually a sequel to one of Tom's old movies."

Her fingers stilled in unbuttoning his shirt. "Oh? Which one?"

"Top Gun." He tugged her shirt up over her head.

"Top Gun!" Amanda squealed, pushing out of his arms.

Thomas stared at her in surprise.

"I love that movie!" She continued, smiling even more at the notion. "Are you his new wingman?"

"No." His eyes narrowed somewhat over her slight pout hearing that. "I play an admiral over the pilot school, Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson."

"Really?" Amanda sat down at the foot of the bed. "Does your character, Cyclone, like Maverick or do you disapprove of his actions and attitude?"

Thomas folded his arms. He could tell that all thoughts of romance had left by her simply sitting there being unusually inquisitive during his attempt at seduction.

"I disapprove." He grumbled, meaning it in more ways than one.

"I knew it." She nodded. "With your personality and voice, you would be serious and against Maverick."

His eyes narrowed. "Let me guess, you like his character?"

"Of course I do!" Her laughter over what was clearly a ridiculous question turned into a deep, heartfelt sigh. "Who wouldn't love him?"

So like is now love, he thought to himself.

"Do you think he will wear the outfit?" Amanda asked after a few moments of staring off into space.

"Outfit?

"You know?" Amanda prodded. "The Maverick look: blue jeans, tight white t-shirt, brown bomber jacket, and those aviator sunglasses." Her sigh was even louder than the one that came before it.

Thomas frowned while buttoning his shirt. "I don't know what he is wearing in the film."

"If I see him in person wearing that and riding his motorcycle..." Amanda shook her head with a dreamy smile as her voice trailed off.

"I take it you like this particular look." Thomas said with a sarcastic edge.

"It was my favorite look on a man for years." Amanda cut her eyes to her husband. "Right up until I saw you for the first time in a tuxedo."

Thomas stilled in his actions. "Really?"

She nodded, rising off the bed to wind her arms around his neck. "You made every other look and man fade away once I saw you."

His frown eased hearing that.

She pressed a long, tender kiss to his lips. Her hands slid down to start unbuttoning his shirt once more.

"Will you, by chance, be wearing any navy uniforms in this movie?" She bit down on her bottom lip when his kisses traveled along her neck and shoulders.

"I will." He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Her smile turned flirty. "I can't wait to see how you look in them."

His smile reappeared as her lips crashed back against his.

******************

He should have known when he first saw Tom in the stupid white t-shirt and blue jeans that his wife would be thrilled. He heard her slight oh the moment the actor pulled out the leather jacket and made his way over to them.

"You must be Amanda." Tom held his hand out, a big smile popping up.

"I am." Her own matching smile irritated Thomas. "It is so nice to finally meet you."

As the two talked, Thomas could only stand there both grateful for his own aviator sunglasses hiding his glare and cursing the eyeware to perdition because Tom slipped his on. Then he felt heat flare over him as the two walked toward a motorcycle, leaving him to trail behind.

"I know this isn't the GPZ from the first movie." Amanda said, eyeing the new bike. "Is it still a Kawasaki?"

"You know your bikes." Tom replied with a smile.

"I don't." She laughed. "I only know the one you rode in Top Gun." A blush crept up her cheeks. "When my uncle showed me the movie, it became a dream of mine when I was thirteen to ride on one."

"Would you like to try this one?" Tom asked.

"She doesn't know how to drive a motorcycle." Thomas quickly spoke up.

"Then how about I give you a ride?" Tom put the bomber jacket on, then swung his leg over the seat. "We've got some downtime before the next scene."

Thomas was already shaking his head while his wife was nodding hers.

"I'd love to!" She quickly got behind Tom.

Thomas stood there with his jaw dropped. His wife was asking where to put her feet and then where to hold on for safety.

"Just hold on tight to me." Tom told her, starting up the bike. "And lean into the curves."

"Wait!" Thomas struggled to speak. "Doesn't she need a helmet?"

They didn't hear him over the roar of the engine. Amanda wrapped her arms around Tom's waist, scooting much too close in her husband's opinion to the actor's back, and with a quick nod, they took off down the road.

Leaving Thomas fuming.

****************

Later that evening...

"That was the most thrilling ride I've ever been on." Amanda continued to gush. "I've been on motorcycles a few times in my life, but nothing will ever top that!"

Thomas blew the candles out at the table he had made certain was set for a romantic dinner for two. Their bungalow at the beach couldn't have been more perfect for a second honeymoon. Dinner with the waves hitting the shore in the background should have been pleasant.

If only Tom Crusie was not a part of it.

Amanda began to collect their empty dishes while continuing to talk about her teenage fantasy becoming a reality.

"To have him dressed like that while he drove me around was perfect." She sighed softly. "If only my sixteen-year-old self knew it would one day happen."

Thomas eyed her over the rim of his glass. "Sixteen?"

She nodded. Another blush covered her cheeks. "I used to fantasize that I could be the girl Maverick falls for. Takes on rides at night." Her smile turned a tad self-depreciating. "Kiss."

Thomas took a needed gulp of his drink. He welcomed the burn to keep his jealous words from tumbling out.

"I know what I'm about to admit sounds awful." Amanda tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, eyes averted from her husband. "But do you remember the love song in the first Top Gun?"

"Yes." Thomas cleared his throat. "Take My Breath Away."

Amanda's lips curved somewhat. "Gah. That song used to give me chills. When it plays in the movie, and Tom and Kelly start to make love..." She shifted nervously, "I used to play that when on a date."

Thomas frowned somewhat. "The film's love scene?"

"No. Take My Breath Away." Amanda finally looked up at him. "Remember, I was sixteen and well, I used to close my eyes and pretend the guy that was kissing me was Maverick."

Thomas didn't know how to respond. How had he managed to somehow end up in a movie with the one actor his wife not only fantasized about but also felt the need to tell him every detail of it.

"It makes me sound horrible." Amanda mumbled when she noticed the look of disbelief on her husband's face.

"No." He managed to say. "Like you said, you were young and most likely the young men you were dating at the time could have used an upgrade."

Amanda shook her head with a laugh. "It's true." Her smile was warm once again. "I suppose they too imagined I was someone else."

He doubted it.

She wound her arms around his neck. "So..."

Thomas quirked an eyebrow in silent question.

"We are all alone." She threaded her fingers through his hair. "No twelve year old or seven year olds knocking at the door." Her lips found his earlobe. "Whatever shall we do with this freedom?"

His arms locked around her. Eyes closed tight with the way she kissed him.

Thank God that song isn't playing somewhere, he thought to himself.

Her hands drifted down his body.

And then he couldn't think at all.

******************

The next few weeks went quickly. Thomas found himself gritting his teeth anytime his wife and co-star interacted. When it came time to perform his scenes, he had no trouble at all displaying the struggle of keeping his dislike at bay.

Tom and Joseph praised him for somehow conveying that dislike just below the surface.

"I gotta say," Tom patted him on the back after once scene, "that look you gave me was one that made me pause in wondering if you really can't stand me." He chuckled as he parted from Thomas and went into his trailer.

Thomas had to bite back that he wasn't acting, at least not in the sense he used to.

He was going full method for this role.

***************

During Thomas's last week to film for his scenes, a party was given in Tom's bungalow.

Amanda seemed more excited than usual on the days leading up to it. Thomas didn't ask why she was. The last thing he needed was another reason to be jealous. But the night of the party, he was unable to remain silent.

She was actually humming to herself while putting her makeup on. He couldn't remember a time she was this giddy to go out for a night of supposed revelry.

"You seem happier than usual." He grumbled as he stepped out of the shower.

"I do?" Her eyes found him in the reflection of her mirror. "I suppose I am."

He wrapped a towel around his waist, dreading to hear her reasons.

"I know that tonight marks our final days here." A smile played about her lips as she searched for her powder. "I've missed our home and daily routines. Having the children visit us was nice, but I can't wait to get back to them." She lifted her eyes to her husband's. "Though I have thoroughly enjoyed our alone time."

Thomas felt his dread disappear. It wasn't the fact she was about to see Tom Cruise or anything at all to do with her feelings for his character. She wanted what he wanted. To go home and return to the life they had together was still a shared dream.

He came up behind her, tilted her face up, and gave her a tender kiss. He felt her smile against his lips as her fingers tangled in his damp hair.

"You're making me want to be late to the party." She teased.

"You're wrong." He kissed her again. "You're the one making me want to forget about what time we should arrive." His hands grasped her waist, urging her closer as their kisses became more heated. "Hearing you say that you want what I long for in returning home makes it impossible not to kiss you."

She reluctantly stepped back with a frustrated moan. "We better stop while we still can." Her half-smile revealed how little she wanted to. "It would be rude of us not to be on time."

His hands slid inside her robe, pulling her closer than before.

"We'll be fashionably late." He whispered against her skin.

*********************

Perhaps it was the talk the two had or the fact that his skin still tingled from making love to Amanda an hour earlier, but Thomas was doing better at observing from across the room his wife in deep discussion with Tom Cruise.

Seeing Joseph as part of the conversation also helped him keep his jealousy at a low boil.

When she was pulled away by some of his costars, he decided to find out what they had been talking about.

"I bet your ears are burning." Tom teased.

"Burning?" Thomas asked.

"I think you married your biggest fan." Joseph explained. "She was just telling us how much she loves watching you in the scenes you were in."

"She did?" Thomas couldn't stop his smile from forming.

Tom shook his head with a laugh. "My feelings would be hurt if she wasn't married to you. She was blind to the rest of us as soon as you showed up in a scene." He winked at Thomas. "Thank God you weren't in every scene or else she wouldn't have been able to critique my own performance."

"I'd say that you are a lucky man," Joseph added with a grin, "but then that would mean we aren't as lucky as you."

"And we can't have that." Tom teased.

"No, I suppose not." Thomas mumbled, searching the room for his wife.

"She stepped outside in case you are wondering." Joseph pointed toward the patio door.

The two watched in amusement as Thomas hurried off without another word.

***************

He found her near the water. After all these years, he still loved how she would leave a party to get off by herself to think on things and the people she interacted with. He also loved that she never insisted they remain at said party until the bitter end.

He wrapped his arms around her, smiling as she immediately relaxed back against him.

"I was looking for you."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Looks like you found me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming out here?"

"You were talking to Tom and Joseph. I didn't want to interrupt." Amanda turned in his arms so she could slide hers around him.

"You," Thomas leaned down until he was barely brushing her lips, "are never an interruption."

She started to laugh when he drily admitted that she was a distraction though.

"I'll try to stop that." She said once calm.

"You better not." He muttered, finally kissing her.

"I'm going to miss this." She mumbled, once more barely brushing his lips with hers. "No interruptions while we sneak away."

"I thought you missed our three interruptions." He pressed her closer to his body.

"I do, horribly." She captured his bottom lip with her own causing him to suck in a surprised breath. "We will have to find a way to have both them and these rare moments alone."

"Agreed." His mouth slanted over hers, drawing a soft moan from her. "We'll have Rachel and Stephen over more often."

"Perfect." She stepped out of his arms.

He cocked an eyebrow at her when she held her hand out to him.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked, allowing her to tug him further away from the party.

"Back to our bungalow." Amanda cast a coy glance towards him. "I have a very strong desire to be with my favorite actor from Top Gun"

"That better be me you're talking about." He yanked her back into his arms.

"As if there can be any doubt." She looped her arms around his neck. "You were the only one I visited the set for." Her eyes drifted down. "The one I found the most handsome in his uniforms." Her lips curved when she felt his body respond to her words. "The one I couldn't take my eyes off of whenever anyone else spoke."

"What about Tom?" He couldn't stop the question from tumbling out.

Her lifted back to his. "What do you mean?"

"He was playing your favorite character." He reminded her.

"So?"

Thomas grimaced somewhat. "Wasn't he able to steal your attention away from me?"

Amanda tilted her head in a manner that made him squirm as she silently studied him.

"Nevermi--" he started to say.

"Not once." She replied at the same time.

His eyes widened. "What did you say?"

"I said, not once." She returned to her former position of being close against him. "He doesn't even come close to holding my attention like you do."

"But you love Maverick." He reminded her

"True." She turned her head when she heard music begin playing. "Is that..."

Thomas felt his heart drop when he heard the familar song, Take My Breath Away, playing. He'd forgotten that his other costars were planning on using it to tease Tom. He could hear the laughter of the cast mixed with the melody.

Don't kiss me, he silently pleaded. Don't kiss me and think of Tom Cruise while you do it.

Amanda looked up at him with a playful, flirty smile.

"We should go." He mumbled as she inched closer.

"I'd rather have a kiss." She pressed her lips along his jaw. "Beau."

He stilled. "What did you call me?"

"Beau." She muttered between kisses along his neck. She leaned back to meet his shocked gaze. "Or would you rather I call you, Admiral, or your call sign, Cyclone?"

Thomas merely stuttered until her lips met his. He clutched her close when he realized what was happening.

The song, the very one her younger self used as daydream fuel of Tom Cruise while kissing, was now being used to think of his own character. Thomas didn't know he had anything left within him to fall more in love with his wife, but in this moment he could feel it happening.

He took over the kiss, determined to give her one that she would never forget. He tried to imagine how his character would react to having the woman he loved more than anything in his arms. Completely his. He used that inspiration to draw moans from her, glorying in taking her breath away.

How lucky could a man be to not only have his own dream girl to kiss in both real life and pretend?

[blackkatmagic]

(I sincerely apologise for the long message, it just keept getting longer as I reread the new chapter over and over)

Trade your heart is wonderfull (as everything you write, like, I don't have favourites but if I did you'd be currently my favourite author alive), and your characterization of characters and relationships is both accurate and realistic, while remaining awesome and fantastical. When I read your works, I know I can connect to characters without being afraid they'll end up suffering- yay for happy endings!

And in this new chapter... Masters Fay and Knol Ven'nari? Breathtaking! Fay healing Jon was heartbreakingly beautiful moment (I have feelings about it, for which I blame you in the best way) And they both seem to have caught up on smh not being quite right with Jon's reactions to jedi, which is good. He needs some jedi that are not the DW to hang out with. Jon out there? Amazing! And he teleported! And talked with other jedi, even more, he talked back despite being scared? Am I crying over it? No, but it's embarrassingly close. Arla and Jango? Love their interactions there, they're one of the most sibling-like siblings I had pleasure to witness in writing. Only ones who suck in this chapter are kyry'tsad, and that's an accurate representation so it's awesome too

Can't (can and shall) wait to see how Jaster reacts when he finds out what his kids and future husband are up to. And Myles, I may not be a jedi, but there is a lot of migraine in his future. Wonder about how the future DW visit will look, but with some Actually Kind Jedi around it may not be too traumatic for Jon? Maybe? However it'll look, it's going to be worth waiting for, so I'll wait patiently. Just squeezing it here at the end, please take care of yourself and don't feel pressured to write more than you are both able and willing to. Hope the ones harassing you quit doing it soon.

Have a great day, and best of luck

Please never apologize for long messages! I love getting them tbh. ^^

But yes! Fay and Knol showing up is going to snowball into Jon getting lots of Jedi support and recognition and also Myles maybe finding a nice quite place and a very large bottle of space whiskey. And also Dark Woman not being welcome within twenty systems of Mandalore

[eldritchqueerture]

Chapter 5: Yesterdays Left Far Behind

Chapter Summary: Jon explains his situation to Gerry in hopes of support, while the archival assistants search Jon’s office for any clues as to what’s happening with him. What they find quickly sets certain things in motion.

CW: self deprecation, canon-typical Lonely content, invasion of privacy, swearing, starvation, fainting

Author's Notes: I've been so busy, this week felt like two months 💀 I hope you guys enjoy this chapter though :DDD I'll try to have the next one next week but it might be a bit later, stuff irl just keeps happening smh

Work Summary: Jon awakens with a tidal wave of memories that don’t make any sense. In an attempt to go on with his life, he searches for the cause of the turmoil in his mind. He knows, though, that something inside him is waking up.

Likes are greatly appreciated, but please consider reblogging so other people may see it! Thank you 💜

Tim leans back, one arm tossed over the back of the chair, the other hand picking at his lips. His eyebrows are drawn together as he looks up at Sasha.

“Okay, so what does that mean?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Martin says quickly. They shouldn’t talk about this without Jon. He’ll have answers. Martin is sure Jon will have an explanation.

“Did he really make this—thing answer his question? Just like that?” Tim snaps his fingers and Sasha nods, deep in thought.

“I felt… I felt the air kind of electrify. All my hair stood up,” she sighs. “I just… Do you think he’s—”

“Don’t say it,” Martin warns her. Tim’s eyes land on him.

“Martin. I understand you have a crush.” His voice is patient but serious, and he ignores Martin’s sputtering. “But you heard the tape yourself! He knows more than we do about this… Hive, or whatever, and I have a feeling he’s known for a while now. He hasn’t been himself since he took this damn job.”

“Besides, I still don’t believe it was dumb luck and a hunch when you were trapped with Prentiss,” Sasha adds and shakes her head. “Not to mention the whole deal with Naomi Herne.”

Martin goes quiet. Fog gathers at the edges of his mind; a fog he knows very well. It sweeps up all of his thoughts and feelings, leaving him alone and lost in the mist. It appeared about the time he was transferred to the Archives by Elias, and Martin just brushed it off as nerves. The acute sense of not belonging, of being different, ill-fitting. Worse. Makes the imaginary fog that takes away all your suffering that much more welcome.

But something in the way Jon spoke that question on the tape… Something stirs in the fog now, and Martin is starting to have doubts. Concerning what? He can’t tell. There is a quiet anxiety at the bottom of his stomach, however, and the more he thinks about Jon being able to… to make people answer his questions, the more the anxiety stirs and the fog swirls in front of him. He doesn’t think the fog moving is a good thing.

“Do we tell Elias?” Sasha asks and Tim looks at her.

“Do you trustElias?” He raises his eyebrows. “If Jon is all… spooky now, for some reason, then I’d pin the blame on him first.”

“Fair.” Sasha scratches the back of her neck and frowns. “Michael kept calling him the Archivist.”

“Yeah, it almost sounds like a title.” Tim grimaces. “I don’t like it.”

Martin digs his short nails into the skin of his palm to bring back his slipping focus.

“H-He might just…” He takes a breath. “He might not know much more than we do? Maybe—Maybe he doesn’t know what to do?”

Tim exhales through his teeth and rolls his eyes.

“Martin, will you ever stop defending this man? I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.” Tim gesticulates with his right hand. “He knows something, and he won’t tell us what because he thinks he can handle everything on his own. He does that! And, you know, it’s fine when he does this to himself, because it’s literally not our responsibility if he wants to spend the rest of his life in a dingy office, smelling old paper and cigarette smoke, but now it’s also dangerous for us! This isn’t looking good, and if something’s out to get us, I won’t let it catch us unawares.”

Martin’s mind fogs up and he can’t quite meet their eyes. Sasha places a reassuring hand on his shoulder and Tim stands up with a sigh.

“Come on, rant over. Let’s go talk him.”

Gerry is sitting on top of a stone fence, playing with the ring in his lip absent-mindedly.

“I mean—I mean you know how ridiculous that sounds?” He looks at Jon leaning against the fence on his right. The sky is now coloured with light grey and some touches of yellow and pink; the night has dispersed throughout Jon’s story. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re pulling my leg and fuck right off.”

“Then I hope you do know better,” Jon mutters and sighs. “I wish this was all just a dumb joke. And yes, I am acutely aware of how ridiculous it sounds. I couldn’t have made it up if I tried, not really my type of humour, to be honest.”

Gerry stares at him for a moment.

“Okay, so to sum it up,” he says. “There’s a part of you that calls itself The Archivist, that has spooky eyes and only manifests in dreams, and is imprisoned with magnetic tape, and, if we believe what it says, then the flashes of memories you’ve been getting are yours but from an alternate universe.”

Jon hides his face in his hands, pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

“On top of that,” Gerry continues. “The worm thing is going to attack the Institute in an unspecified amount of time, you’re sure at least one of your assistants had died in the other timeline, and you also somehow caused the end of the world.”

Jon shakes his head and slides down the fence to sit on the ground.

“When you put it all together like that it just sounds worse.”

“Well, you’re right on that,” Gerry snorts. “Don’t you think if you freed the Archivist, you’d get those memories back? Maybe the picture would be clearer.”

Jon looks up at him.

“M-Maybe… But that would mean becoming a monster.”

“Well, he is a part of you either way, right?” Gerry shrugs.

Jon presses his lips together.

“I… I don’t really know. Sometimes it feels like it is just another facet of me, and sometimes it’s a whole other entity.” Jon plays with a stone on the ground nearby. “I keep catching myself thinking I’m bound to become it either way… Unless, of course, I die.”

“Gertrude never talked about being the Archivist much,” Gerry muses and Jon raises his eyebrows at him with interest. “She didn’t turn into an eyeball creature. She stayed human up until we parted ways, and it didn’t really matter.” He looks at Jon with a sort of tired sadness. “She still ended up acting like a monster.”

“How did you separate?” Jon asks. “I… I remember you dying in America, in 2014. You were travelling with her then and unexpectedly had a seizure. The cancer was too advanced to save you.”

Gerry tilts his head back and sighs into the air.

“We caught it in time. A couple years ago; got radiation therapy and been recovering since. Although I did have another close call in 2014; not cancer, just a bullet wound in Pittsburgh. Nasty Slaughter case.”

“That’s where it happened,” Jon nods. “You were… Investigating something.”

“The Unknowing.”

Jon blinks and frowns.

“Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Do you recall anything about Smirke’s entities?” Gerry asks and Jon runs a hand through his hair.

“Smirke…? Yes, it… He built it all, the buildings, and the fears… He…”

“Jon?” Gerry tilts his head curiously.

“He—He wanted to balance them all. Somehow— Christ,” Jon hisses when an electric shock runs through his brain. “It—It hurts when I try to remember.”

Gerry stays quiet and Jon feels the need to explain.

“Everything is… hazy. It’s like I landed in a river, and the current is so strong it could kill me. For now I’ve constructed a dam but that means there are still things I don’t know, and they sometimes spill inside, but I have no control over when and how. If I try to reach out…”

“Then the dam would break?” Gerry asks and Jon nods.

“Yes.”

“Alright,” Gerry takes a breath. “I can tell you what I know, then, and you can make any mental corrections and comparisons as needed. How does that sound?”

Jon blinks and looks up at him in earnest.

“You… You actually believe me.”

Gerry laughs softly.

“I guess so,” he admits. “I don’t know you, but I really don’t think anyone could be making all this up.”

“You’d be surprised what people can come up with.” Jon rolls his eyes with a hint of his usual annoyance.

“Besides, this all kind of explains your fucked up marks,” Gerry mutters and Jon stills.

“My what?”

“Your marks.” When he’s met with confusion in Jon’s eyes, he explains. “You know, when a person has a supernatural encounter, they’re marked as a victim of the Fears. I can usually tell what sort of fear it was.”

“A-And mine?” Jon asks with a growing sense of unease.

“They’re just kinda… All over the place.” Gerry grimaces. “The only one that’s clear is the Eye because of the Archives, the rest is just kind of muddled and faint.” He shakes. “I don’t think I want to know what you’ve been through to get them so tangled up.”

Jon lets out a faint laugh.

“I don’t think I do either.”

At this moment his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He takes it out and his heart skips a beat.

“I-It’s Sasha. My—my assistant. I kind of left them… Christ, I left them without much of an explanation,” Jon mutters and sighs. “God, I really don’t know what to tell them.”

“I find honesty works best in these kinds of situations,” Gerry jumps down from the fence and extends a hand to Jon.

“Have you had a lot of these kinds of situations?” Jon raises his eyebrows and takes the hand gladly. As soon as he’s up, he pats down his trousers to get rid of dirt, while Gerry chuckles.

“Got me there. I usually work alone; Gertrude did too. If she worked with someone, it was usually just to use them for some kind of an end.” A look of hurt passes through his face. “Maybe I’m not one to know, but not facing it all alone doesn’t sound terrible.”

Jon’s forehead ripples in sympathy.

“I think I made the mistake of pushing them away once,” he says quietly. “Thank you, Gerry.”

“Wait.” Gerry points at Jon’s phone. “I’ll give you my number, so we can get in touch later.”

With a soft, surprised oh, Jon unlocks his phone. A message from Sasha appears on the screen, in all caps: “JON ITS URGENT GET BACK NOW”. Fear freezes his insides as he hands it to Gerry.

“Something’s gone wrong,” he mutters.

“It’s not far.” Gerry taps the number in in record speed and hands him the phone back. After a brief look over Jon’s face, he pats his shoulder reassuringly. “You’re gonna be fine.”

Jon exchanges a last look with him, nods more to himself than to Gerry, and rushes in the direction of the Institute.

—

“Well, this is a development.” Tim crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. “He ran away!”

He stands in Jon’s empty office, with Sasha looking through his desk. Martin hovers outside in the bullpen, anxiously fidgeting.

“He’s found Prentiss’ statement,” Sasha mutters, looking at the document.

“Guys, I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Martin shouts weakly. “What are you even hoping to find?”

“An explanation.” Sasha answers, opening a drawer. “Any clues would be great at this point.”

The drawer contains some office supplies and keys to the storage rooms and such around the Institute. She opens the second drawer and finds empty tapes. She takes a quick look through them and notices one that has a label in Jon’s handwriting. “Memory.”

“That’s interesting,” she says, straightens her back, and shakes the tape slightly for Tim to see. “Get the tape player.”

She takes the tape outside the office and places it in the device.

“This—This really feels like a violation of privacy,” Martin frantically looks at them, although they do not appear to share his sentiment.

“Look, Martin, if he wanted us to blindly trust him, he shouldn’t have left like that,” Sasha says, and her voice is soft but steady. “And he is hiding something, you know that.”

Martin swallows but doesn’t say anything. The fog creeps up closer and closer as Sasha plays the tape. He silently and quite unwittingly hopes that it will protect him from whatever’s on it.

[CLICK]

[SHAKY BREATHING]

I… I just…

I need to…

[ARCHIVIST STATIC RISES AND JON’S VOICE DEEPENS]

You could never imagine feeling something so intense, so pronounced, and so overwhelmingly painful. Of course, you Know all of this; you know every emotion any human being has ever felt but you have never experienced them for yourself like this, in the whole scope of their intensity.

You stand next to the window, overlooking what used to be a wild meadow. You remember it full of flowers and tall grass, bathed in golden sunlight; watching the grass move on the wind, with the one you love by your side. You remember the blue sky, clear of clouds, and full of fresh air.

All those memories are now tainted with the Knowledge of what is. Of what you have brought about.

The meadow outside the window is but a lifeless desert. You cannot see anything for miles unless you close your eyes… but you can hear it. You hear the screams of searing agony and frigid dread, and you Know that you are responsible for every single one of them.

You look up at the sky – it is dark, deeper than dark, something that would be ready to swallow the Earth in its entirety if only given a chance; but it doesn’t. Instead, it watches. The sky watches with thousands upon thousands of eyes following every little movement and thought. And you know that the Eyes are fond of you. You’ve done them a big service. “You deserve a reward,” the eyes say.

You know where the reward is; you know what it is that waits for you at the centre, like a freshly cooked meal at the end of a hard day at work. A reward from The Eye. A reward for bringing about an era of dread and terror.

You fall to your knees, wracked with the grief and guilt that drown your mind, clutch at your heart and throat, not letting you breathe. You don’t need to breathe. You don’t need anything in the world you have created.

The one you love is beside you, whispers a soothing song of meaningless words that do nothing to ease the vast, overwhelming void of misery that eats you from the inside. You close your eyes and in the dark of your eyelids you still see it. The Tower. The Pupil of the Eye. The Panopticon.

And you hate yourself for yearning for it.

As strong arms embrace you on the hard, wooden floor of the cabin, you remember when you had a dream. It wasn’t really long ago, but for you it feels like an entirely different lifetime. And perhaps you are right – after all, time doesn’t exist anymore.

You remember when you had a dream of a peaceful life with the one you love. You tasted it, just a drop, but the desire for quiet and warmth has overtaken your entire being, and you fell in love once again with the one you love, as well as with the cabin, which now has turned into your prison. You remember thinking, hoping that it was all over; that getting him back was the only thing that really mattered, and the rest would fall into place. You had no idea of just how many silken threads of web you and your companion were entangled in.

You remember the embraces, the soft kisses, and comfortable silences, and you cannot quite wrap your head around the fact that the one you love is still there, by your side; after everything you’ve done.

You remember speaking the words, clear as day, which now is only a distant concept in your mind. You know day because you know everything. You know that the souls this world of your creation is feeding on could not remember day. All they know, and would know for the rest of eternity, is torment and fear.

The words glistened on the page – or were those your tears? – as you uttered the prayer to the Power that you, after everything, still served. You owed it your life; your soul. The Pupil knew of the debt the Archivist owes, and he would make sure that it was paid in full. The lines of deception went far deeper than you could have ever predicted.

And as the last word teared itself from your trembling, bleeding lips, your eyes flashed with green light, blinding the whole world and extinguishing the sun. The sky ripped itself into a thousand little pieces and from every crack emerged a glowing Eye, ready to take in everything about Its new world. And as the new world created itself from the light, you collapsed on the floor, your eyes bleeding and burned, yet still seeing.

Seeing It All.

Despite everything the one you love tells you, and everything you tell yourself, you hear a part of your being, a part that’s made of never-closing eyes and strings of magnetic tape, whisper that you could have stopped reading the words before you even started. It tells you that you know you had made a choice – you have chosen to live as the monster of the Eye in a world that serves and feeds you – and you believe it. And even though you believe yourself a monster, you feel your human conscience shattering every last piece of what’s left of you inside.

You can feel every drop of suffering and pain you have doomed the world to. And you’re not sure if it is a punishment severe enough to match what you deserve.

[STATIC LOWERS AND JON’S BREATH CATCHES]

Oh, God…

[SOBBING]

[CLICK]

Silence falls over the Archives when the whirring of the tape stops, as Tim and Sasha lock shocked gazes.

“What—” Tim speaks and exhales slowly. “If this is some elaborate, fucked up joke I’m going to murder this man myself.”

Sasha shakes her head slowly, confusion painted clearly on her face.

“I don’t think this is a joke, Tim,” she says quietly.

“If—If I didn’t know Jonathan Sims, I would say he’s a pretty good actor, but…” Tim throws his arms in the air and exhales through his teeth. “What are we even supposed to make of this?”

“Why would he record it?” Sasha takes out the tape and looks it over; nothing besides the label offers any clues.

Their voices grow steadily muted until Martin can’t distinguish the words anymore. He sits in his chair, staring blankly into space, focused solely on hiding his trembling hands. The fog is so close now, he can feel it – a chill that freezes blood in his veins, a cold so strong it numbs. It caresses his cheek softly, seeping through the skin promises of fading, far away to a place where he doesn’t need to think or feel anymore. He thinks back to his friends – or, work acquaintances? They were never his friends to begin with. They seemed distressed about something, and Martin wanted to help, wanted to be useful… But he couldn’t even be that. Maybe it’s better for him to move aside, let them handle whatever’s happening. He’d only stand in the way.

His eyes glaze over with grey fog and it’s all he can see. All he wishes to see.

Just him and his endless fear.

“…tin? Martin!”

He almost feels something touch his shoulders, a faint memory of warmth, but the cold numbs it fast, lines of frost running along his veins. The sensation of having a body slips from his mind and he doesn’t fight it anymore. He’s so, so tired of fighting.

He’s probably dying. Yes. This is it, then.

It’s exactly how he’s always imagined it – cold and grey. Lonely.

—

As soon as he sees the entrance to the Institute, Jon spots her standing by the doors, searching the opposite side of the street. He breaks into a run to traverse the distance.

“Sasha!” The fear makes his voice sound weaker. He stops by her side just as she turns to him. “I—”

“Martin's gone,” she says breathlessly.

“Ma, uh... What?”

“He's gone! Disappeared into thin air right before our eyes.” Her eyes are wide with panic, and she clutches her phone in a tight grip. Jon’s stomach drops when he realizes he has never seen Sasha so panicked before. “Tell me you know what to do, there's nothing to follow up, no clues, no trail, nothing, he just… He just vanished.”

“That's impossible,” Jon says half-heartedly, and the desperate look Sasha gives him only lessens his ability to deny the truth.

“Tim's searching the Archives again, but there's just no sign of him.” She climbs the stairs with Jon following close behind, and they enter the Institute's lobby. Jon's heart threatens to jump out of his chest, and he gets that feeling again – that damned conviction that the answer is just out of reach in his mind.

“What were you doing when he disappeared?” Jon asks in a hushed voice as they pass through the middle of the lobby towards the Archives; Rosie gives them a questioning look. Sasha glances back at him and hesitates. “Sasha, what were you doing when Martin disappeared?”

He doesn't even notice how easily he slips into the deeper tone, coated in static. He stops as soon as the words fall out of his mouth, and Sasha follows suit.

“We searched your office,” she says with a sigh. “You were being really strange, and we needed to know what's going on with you, but he didn’t like that idea very much. We found a tape labelled Memory, and when we finished listening Martin was... translucent. We called his name, but I don’t think he heard us. Then, he just... disappeared entirely.”

Sasha takes a step back with a horrified look on her face. Behind her, Jon sees Tim, at the top of the stairs to the Archives, staring at him in equal horror. As soon as their eyes meet, Tim springs to action, pushing Jon away and placing himself between him and Sasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He growls.

“I-I, uh...” Jon falters, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts are scattered in panic and all he can see on Tim's face is anger and fear.

“What even are you?” He almost spits the words out. “Because you sure as hell ain't Jon.”

Jon opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He just shakes his head helplessly.

“Tim...” Sasha grabs his shoulder, and he looks back at her with concern.

“Are you hurt?” He asks and the fear cracks his voice. Sasha shakes her head.

“No, it was…” She blinks and takes a steeling breath, before turning to Jon. “Since I had to answer you, please, now return the favour. Do you know what happened to Martin?”

Jon swallows and searches the floor of the Institute’s lobby with his eyes. The tape, he recorded it some time ago during a flashback of sorts. The memory weighed him down like a sack of stones and he needed to get it out; the tape seemed like the most convenient way to do so. But what does it have to do with Martin? And how can a person just… completely disappear?

“Tell me—,” he inhales. “I need to know what it looked like. The way he disappeared, what exactly happened. With details.”

It doesn’t escape Jon’s notice the way Tim’s features harden at his words, and his hand clutches Sasha’s arm. He pushes away the hurt to a far corner of his mind.

“He went grey,” Sasha says, voice losing its earlier determination and slipping into concern. “Like… Like a picture losing saturation. He stared into the air, like his mind wasn’t even there. It grew cold, I think.”

“He turned into a wisp of fog and vanished,” Tim adds quietly. Jon shivers at that.

He remembers a place of grey fog, with the ever-present sound of ocean waves. A whole landscape covered in a roiling mass of cloying grey that coated his skin and made it hard to breathe. He found Martin there once; surely he could do it again. If he can find that place again, of course.

“I think I know what happened,” he whispers and a wave of sorrow washes over him. He presses his eyes shut for a moment, but then he freezes, feeling a gaze at his back, studious and prickling like a sharp needle through his core. He whirls around and looks up at Jonah Magnus.

“Jon?” Sasha asks, at the same time as Tim mutters: “Fucking hell, we already have enough to deal with.”

Jon’s sorrow sparks into an anger so bright it blinds all his other senses. Elias looks at him with eyebrows raised in polite interest.

“Where's Martin?” Jon walks up to him, barely restraining himself from attacking the man on the spot.

Elias shrugs, shaking his head innocently.

“How would I know? I just came out of my office to check what the commotion's all about.”

There are sparks of amusement in his eyes and Jon has had more than enough.

“Where is he?” This time he pushes all the energy he can muster into the words, deepening his voice, and he feels the power flow through his veins. His vision swims and he sways, although manages to keep his balance. Elias barely hides his surprise, and he visibly shivers, as if cold.

“He never left the archives,” he says slowly and tilts his head, studying Jon like a particularly interesting museum exhibit. “I'm sure if you go down there and check, you will find him making himself a cup of tea.”

Jon wonders if the compulsion worked at all. The power was there, and it exhausted him to an almost unbearable degree, but he has no way of knowing whether it actually pulled the truth out of Elias.

He searches his face for a moment longer, trying to work out if this is some kind of a trap, but a wave of cold sweat and a sudden ache in his stomach make him decide to leave it and go check for himself. He doesn't want Elias to see him when his waning energy runs out, and he already feels like he might pass out any second. He blinks to restore the sharpness of his vision and turns around without another word.

He passes Tim and Sasha on the stairs, not sparing a look at them. He doesn't want to see their faces, whatever expressions they might bear. He needs to find Martin, make sure he's okay, hug him and never let him go, never let anything touch him...

He opens the door to the archives and rushes to the breakroom, shaking slightly with effort. As he stops by the door, he immediately leans his hand against the wall for support and blinks away the dark spots from his vision. He sees Martin's broad frame next to the counter, holding a mug. He turns around and a look of soft surprise appears on his face.

“Hi.” He smiles slightly, fingers wrapping around the mug. Jon searches his face, then the rest of his body for signs of... What exactly? Martin seems perfectly fine at first glance, but his expression now morphs into concern. “Jon? Are you okay?”

“Are youokay?” Jon asks, hearing Tim and Sasha's steps behind him.

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” Martin chuckles with confusion as Jon slowly walks up to him.

He lightly touches his arm, checking that yes, Martin seems perfectly material. There are no traces of fog anywhere, although, as Jon looks into his face he notices that his eyes are faded almost entirely to grey.

“Um…” Martin’s gaze travels from Jon’s hand to Tim and Sasha at the door. “Is something… going on?”

“Is something—” Tim scoffs in disbelief. “Martin, you disappeared! Are you okay?”

Jon withdraws his hand and takes a couple steps back to lean his back on the wall, his stomach twisting in pain and another wave of cold sweat washing over him. Martin frowns.

“I was here the whole time,” he says. “You went upstairs to call Jon. What are you talking about?”

Tim gapes at Martin while Sasha frowns, visibly thinking.

“No, we went to Jon’s office,” she says slowly. “With you. And we found a tape, remember?”

Martin laughs nervously.

“There’s a lot of tapes around here, Sasha. But I’ve just been sitting here since you left.”

Jon furiously blinks trying to bring balance to his swaying vision. Tim glances at him.

“Jon, sit down, you look like you’re going to pass out,” he says. Jon swallows and nods, but as soon as he lets go of the wall, his knees give out and he tumbles to the floor.

“Woah!” Tim catches him, and his world is enveloped by darkness.

—

Jon stirs, surrounded by a familiar smell. Martin. He smiles, not fully awake yet, letting himself enjoy the moment. He knows Martin is a morning person; he’s surely already out of the bed, preparing tea in the kitchen and watching the sun’s slow ascent over the Scottish hills. Jon hopes today is going to be a sunny day; they could go for a walk, finally see the pond Esther has been telling Martin about. There’s not a lot of young couples in the village, she said, with everyone moving away to bigger cities, but apparently it’s a very picturesque spot, ideal for a quiet date. Jon thinks they deserve that, after everything they’ve been through…

He stirs again, multiple hushed voices registering at the edge of his consciousness. Did they have guests? No, that’s impossible, no one ever came by their house; they even collect mail in the village.

Jon groans at the empty ache in his stomach, and the voices go quiet.

“Jon?” The voice belongs to Martin. Jon blinks, the sweet dream fading away quickly, replaced by memories of recent events.

“Martin…” He mumbles and winces. Martin will know what he needs, he’ll take care of him. Just one statement should be enough to get him to be somewhat functional again, Martin should know that—

“Do you need some water? God, when was the last time you ate something?” He asks when Jon’s stomach rumbles. Jon blinks again to clear his vision, and sees he’s in the document storage, laying on the cot. The sheets still smell of Martin, who crouches next to the cot with worry creasing his forehead. Tim and Sasha share this expression, standing a little to the back.

“Why don’t you go to the breakroom and get some food for him?” Sasha asks Martin quietly. “Some sweet tea probably would be good as well.”

“Yeah, okay,” Martin nods and, after giving Jon another concerned glance, gets up and leaves the document storage. Sasha turns her gaze to Jon, who carefully sits up and leans his back on the wall.

“How are you feeling?” She asks and Jon can’t miss the terse note in her voice. Something heavy weighs his chest down and his limbs could very well be made of lead.

“Drained,” Jon says hoarsely.

“We need some answers and fast.” Sasha glances at the door. “Martin doesn’t remember the tape at all.”

Jon frowns. Martin doesn’t remember… Jon has a feeling Martin doesn’t remember a whole lot more things than just the tape.

“It’s like his memories were switched up,” Tim joins, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “It’s really freaky.”

“I… I don’t know why he doesn’t remember,” Jon says quietly, searching the floor. “I have no idea what happened.”

“Okay.” Sasha nods. “Then your thing, making people answer your questions. What’s that about?”

Jon sighs and rubs his face.

“It’s… It’s complicated.”

“Figures,” Tim scoffs.

“Look, this place… It changes me. It probably affects you as well, but not to a noticeable degree.” Jon picks up his glasses from the box that serves Martin as a nightstand and puts them on. “This power, it… It’s supposed to help the Archivist get statements from people.”

Sasha raises her eyebrows.

“What do the statements do?” She asks.

“They, uh…” Jon swallows. “The Institute is dedicated to a power of fear some call the Beholding, or the Eye. The statements feed it, and It in turn, feeds the Archivist.”

He can’t bear to look at them. He can’t face the looks of horror, the disgust, the revulsion. For a moment he’s overcome with an urge to just close his eyes and give up, let the matters take their course without him. How did he handle this last time?

“That explains the bleeding eyes, I guess,” Sasha mutters. “Why did you tell Naomi Herne to leave?”

Jon looks up at her in surprise. She seems genuinely interested, trying to piece together the answer without judgement. Jon shivers at how strongly it aligns her with the Eye.

“I…” He searches for words and closes his eyes in pain. “I don’t want to be a monster.”

The words are quiet and Jon’s insides twist with embarrassment at how pathetic they sound. Tears gather behind his eyelids without much consideration for his broken pride.

“How do you even know all this?” Tim speaks up, his expression not betraying how he feels about all this. Jon lets out a tired chuckle.

“That’s the really complicated part,” he says. “I—”

At this moment the door to the storage opens and Martin walks in with a steaming mug in hand.

“Unfortunately, there’s not much in the way of food,” he says, gently passing the mug to Jon. Their fingers brush and Jon’s throat closes up. “By that I mean there is literally nothing. S-Someone has to go out to get some.”

“Sasha, you should take the day off,” Jon says, blowing air carefully on the tea. “You haven’t slept tonight.”

“Neither did you, and you’re the one who fainted.” She crosses her arms. “I hope you don’t intend to stay here.”

“I have to.” He looks Sasha in the eyes pointedly, hoping she understands. “I have a statement to record.”

She inhales, looking him over, and nods slightly.

“That’s insane,” Martin pipes up. “You need to get some sleep, you can’t possibly—”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he mutters and takes a sip. The tea is very sweet, more so than he usually takes it, but it warms his stomach.

“Jon.” Martin’s pleading voice salts an open wound inside Jon’s chest. He should know why, he should remember, he should—

Jon blinks away the wetness from his eyes, not looking at Martin.

“I won’t change my mind, so you can save your efforts,” he says and slides off the cot. Martin watches him with worry, ready to catch him if he falls.

“Told you, Marto,” Tim says, seemingly aiming for a joking tone, but some of the tension of the situation finds a way into his voice.

“Just… Promise me you’ll at least take a nap?” Martin asks and Jon finds it impossible to say no.

“Fine.” He shakes his head. “I will. Now, I need to get to work.”

Sasha looks at him, biting her lip, as if debating something in her mind.

“I’ll explain everything on Monday, I promise,” Jon adds but Sasha shakes her head.

“No. We’ll meet tomorrow, somewhere inconspicuous. This can’t wait that long. I assume nobody has any special Saturday plans?”

They all shake their heads.

“Good.” Sasha nods. “I’ll pick a place and then we’ll talk.” She looks at Jon with raised eyebrows. “Agreed?”

Jon sighs and nods.

“Agreed.”

----

Author's Note: Jmart angst? Me? I would never 😶

Today's chapter title inspiration is Papillon by Blanco White! :)

[adecila]

What kills me is that Emilia has been used to push (to some degree) both HoTD and this Jon spinoff. She was with Matt Smith right before he got casted as Daemon and now with the article. Idk if anyone has ever done it but there is this GalaxyCon thing where celebs sign autograph orders/live and Emilia and Kit are both doing it. Smh, I only care about her and Dany in this tbh because at the very least while Emilia also tried making sense and agreeing with the storyline(and shading it too lol) she wasn't blaming fans for being upset. Emilia passed the vibe check.

That's just how it works. Her name is always going to be attached to this franchise one way or another. I hate it too sometimes...

You're totally right though she definitely passed the vibe check 🥺

[bananonbinary]

that last post made me realize another reason i think georgie was in the wrong wrt her Reaction to Everything, in addition to the simple victim blaming. it’s just.....a weirdly privileged(?) take, in light of the meta implications that the Entities represent Systems like capitalism and fascism and patriarchy.

like, the archives crew can’t turn a blind eye to what’s going on. they literally can’t leave without getting sick. so the ways they react to everything are:

daisy and basira: embrace it, do fucked up shit before something else fucks you up. (and then they have character growth and its nice but not the point)

jon: mostly ineffectual anger and fear, the boy copes by.....not coping at all lmao

tim and melanie: try to fuck shit up. they can’t bring the system down but maybe they can make it as annoying as possible for the people in charge while they’re here.

martin: tries to keep his head down at first and just make things better for his friends in tiny ways, then he tries to game the system himself, then in s5 he tries to burn it all down. (martin’s arc is, incidentally, a really interesting story about an average person becoming radicalized. dude actually trusted cops and bosses at the beginning smh)

georgie sees all of this from the outside, and takes the very uninformed and naive view that they should all just...opt out of this horrible system they’re stuck in. she’s like one of those awful vegans telling u to just buy the $15 organic muffins, it’s not that hard :/

but there is no ethical consumption under the Fears. georgie may not have to look at it as much as the archival gang do, and she can pretend its not actually in her life, but it IS. the Entities aren’t just in the institute, they’re literally everywhere, and georgie was already a victim to The End long before the events of tma. And she looks at melanie, who left, but melanie didn’t actually leave, did she? she left the institute, sure, and elias’ stupid plan, but she still exists in a world with the Fears. she’s still marked by two of them, and presumably still has really fucking bad days from them. She’s still in danger from strange things in the dark, or twisting hallways, or people who’s faces aren’t quite right, same as literally everyone else in this world.

tl;dr: georgie is looking at a lot of people reacting to a horrible and all-encompassing system in a lot of different ways, and took the extremely ignorant position that if you distance yourself from this one extremely small part of a fucked up system, that’s basically the same as opting out of the whole system, right?

[justasimplesinner]

Hey, I’ve just spent my day admiring your blog... and seeing as requests are open I was wondering what you thought about the dork squad having a much younger, super caring fem s/o. Would it change anything in how they act with them publicly, intimately? Idk it’s vague so please go wild! I’m so down for anything you write!

i'm gonna make this more gender neutral so everyone can enjoy darl, hope you dont mind! gays and theys deserve to read some fanfiction too!

and yet again, gonna need to skip jervis

Jonathan with a very caring s/o hcs:

he is... not used to being taken care of. hell, he's not even used to taking care of himself. and quite honestly, you're the best fucking thing that ever happened to him. not that he'd ever admit it tho smh

you're just always so... gentle. and you pay so much attention to him and his needs. you never push. you always know when, where and how to soothe him. you always bring him food and coffee and insist on making him drink water. you massage his shoulders whenever he's been working for too long. it feels... weird. surreal. he will probably never get used to it

sometimes, he gets really flustered by you. here you are, a little ray of fucking sunshine, making sure he has a scarf and a warm hat on him, fixing it all for him, styling, patting his cheek like you were his parent. you have to fucking stand on your toes to even reach his neck properly, and yet he feels so small with you. and the amount of respect he harbors for you is immeasurable

Jon has never felt the need to ever explain himself to someone, never felt shame at getting caught redhanded in doing something illegal or whatever the fuck, but all it takes is a single look from you and he's spilling the beans, even looking bashful while doing it. you just have that effect on him

he is not going to lie, he does get self-conscious because of the age gap. he's an old cynic, you're young and so full of love, and not only does your relationship sometimes look like the parent-child dynamic in the most unexpected ways (i mean cmon, the rogues were shocked to see how you've tamed him), but sometimes it's just... hard to keep up. and it gets annoying, always being stared at - for a very different reason this time - whenever he walks hand in hand with you, and the whispers really get to him sometimes. even he can't comprehend what the hell are you doing with an old fuck like him

honestly? the first few times it happened, he had ceased showing you any and all affection in public completely. he didn't hold your arm/hand/waist, he walked a small distance away from you, he used the same cold tone he used for everyone else. it wasn't just because he himself was embarassed (and he hasn't given a shit for public opinion in years), but he was afraid that the whispers might get to you. maybe even... make you realize how you're wasting your life with him. he will need some reassurance from you to even consider showing your relationship to the public. he doesn't give a shit that people are going to point fingers at him, he gives a shit that they will do so at you and he'd hate it if you started developing some insecurities because of that or started considering... leaving him. he knows you probably should but he... so doesn't fucking want you to. it might be selfish, but he so doesn't want to fucking let you go. ever.

Edward with a very caring s/o hcs:

this man is just one big fucking baby, you two will get along very well. you complete each other. ying yang and shit. and he honestly needs you in his life. he needs someone to take care of him, he needs someone to love him like you do. it might not seem so at first glance, but he is practically unable to do that himself. he will never take care of himself like you care for him, he will never love himself like you love him

when you just came into his life and started cooking him decent meals, spoiling him with affection, listening to him, just overall taking care of him, he felt the need to cling to you like his life depended on it. you had him hooked immediately

but there's also this little thing...s. like... parental issues... trust issues... y'know, the usual. it's just... you felt so much like a parent sometimes, and he's used to parents aka the people that were supposed to love him abusing their power over him and belittling him. so, accepting the fact that he loved you and you might love him was a very long and tiring process. and then one time you just hugged him to you after supplying him with the best soup he's ever fucking had, he just curled into a ball in your arms, telling you that he loved you and... asking you not to hate him because of that. it was the most fucking heartbreaking thing because it actually felt like holding a hurt, abused and neglected child in your arms

has called you 'Mom' on more than one occassion, regardless of your gender (he'd never call you Dad. it feels like an insult to him) and got very embarassed because of it. honestly, he often gets hella embarassed whenever you do something for him, like fix his collar or pat his cheek. but every time he sees you like, folding his clothes maybe, just doing normal, domestic things and taking care of him, he's got this dopey smile on his red face as he all but stares at you with love-filled eyes

it does feel... weird sometimes. he feels kind of... creepy. you're younger than him, and yet you're the mother-hen, you're the mature one (though he won't admit that, ever) and it almost makes him feel incompetent. because he literally needs you to take care of him since he so often can't even do that himself. he doesn't blame you at all, of course. at first he did, and he threw a huge tantrum over it, many insults were directed at you but your god-like patience made you just suffer through it, comfort him and have a serious talk about the whole thing

and don't even get me started on the stares/whispers directed at you two in public. they really fucking get to him and they make him feel so self-conscious, and are making him doubt your whole relationship. but most of all, he's fucking terrified you will leave him because of that. because of what the people are saying. because he's older and has problems with keeping up sometimes. but every last one of his doubts is swept away whenever you just slide your hand into his or hug him around the waist. fuck it, you kiss him in public, you hug him in public, you call him 'darling' in public - you're not ashamed of your love for him at all, so why would he doubt you? he still does tho, he's so just fucking insecure this man

[worldate-blog]

                      well   i   feel   like   a   complete   dunce   right   now ,     an   absolute   fool .               not   only   did   i   fail   to   listen   to   the   new   ep   the   moment   it   came   out ,     im   only   now   listening   &   have   only   reached   half - point ,     but   ive   also   been   completely   neglecting   my   hungee   boy .               unbelievable .               this   wont   do ,     no   not   at   all .               the   moment   i   am   done   listening   to   the   new   ep   i   am   storming   right   back   in   here   &   reblogging   memes .

[alistair-blackwood]

I don't know why my first instinct when writing a JM fic is to have Jon suave and in control, real Elias-y (without the psychopathy). Fell in your opinion had this problem, too; in the initial draft, Jon was perfectly aware of what he was doing and how he was going to do it and it was sooo boring. I ask myself, "What if he ... didn't know what he was doing?" You know, like in the gosh dang show I've been listening to for the last 70 hours! smh my head

I blame the fact that I'm an American and the most prominent British character Hollywood uses is Suave and Cool Under Pressure, which is why I believe Inbetweeners should be essential watching material for American children. In this essay I will

[yocalio]

Still blaming the characters(Jon) instead of the writers, smh...

Why do you think I call him Aegon the Kinslayer? That thing we saw in s8 wasn't Jon. Everything I bitch about is aimed directly at the writing, smh.....

[alayne-stone]

My  8x05 recap

The had Dany looking fugly as hell like wow

Jon Snow is the ice town clown. “She is my queen” oh fuck off

Tyrion is a dumb bitch and that’s gonna get him

Tyrion and Jon just stood there watching a men being burnt alive. Are these y’all heroes?

Dany cant keep Sansa’s name out of her mouth. Trying to blame her for Varys’s death? I think the fuck not you trick ass bitch.

Dany has lost it I think

The Lannisters are THAT family, always caring for eachother.

That city falled too easily imo

The bell thing.... dumb

Daenerys burning innocent people.... ok then. “not the queen of the ashes” my ass

Jon and Tyrion are not innocent in this, they allowed this to happen, they are monsters just like Dany.

Cersei is baby

Qyburn is a ride or die, like ... I really like him. Need me a hand like that.  RIP

Clegane bowl was dumb af, boring...

I’m  glad  they had both unsullied and northerners making mess, nobody is innocent in this

Jon trying to safe face.... me: yeah excuse me I want this bitch on a death road.

Daenerys should had burned him alive, what a miss opportunity smh

Jaime and Cersei dying togheter.... as they should! but no I had hoped for a more dramatic death for Cersei tbh

Arya is a goddamn hero like wow Im so impressed by her this season and also so proud is crazy. This is her season PERIODT!

Sansa is always right, and how they didn’t gave me the Cersei&Sansa scene I’ve been craving for 5 years, the least they can do is give me an arya&sansa slapping the shit out of Jon snow scene, thank u.

[nightinngales]

As much as I want to blame everything on Jon because I'm angry about viserion the reason the show is prolonging Dany taking the iron throne is because they don't want to let go of Lena, with her they can count on another emmy nomination. With Dany the question is not will she take the iron throne but whether she wants to keep it, the show screamed pregnancy last ep and last week grrm said that "the house with the red door" will come back. Maybe she'll finally get what she wanted her whole life.

my eyes almost rolled out of my head at the idea that dany will spend 7 seasons vying for the iron throne and then go live in the house with the red door to be a housewife while jon rules the seven kingdoms. that’s bs. she can be both a mom AND a queen if that’s the route they wanna take smh 

[enygmass]

Sometimes I wonder if they ever had art therapy at Arkham, because you see they have group sessions all the time, but we’ve only heard mentions of art therapy

Harley would probably go right for the paints and proceed to paint on every piece of paper she could get her hands on. I’m talkin a hyena here, a giant heart there, a rather controversial macaroni piece there, etc.

Edward would be similar, except instead of drawings of hyenas he would decorate with question marks and then change newspaper and magazine articles so they appeared to be about him instead (Latest hit: Danial Radcliff Edward Nygma: Hollywoods Most Wanted) I mean have you seen his Arkham Knight Grafitti smh

Jonathan would be more of the ‘precision’ type, with extremely detailed drawings more than likely depicting fear and its effects on people, as well as the occasional more normal piece, like a crow or a very detailed scenic piece

Harvey would either sit back and watch - probably refusing to participate in the activity - or he’d be right in there with the others DEPENDING on how the coin flipped

Ivy would probably be working with Harley on her paint pieces and art, or she’d be doing her own thing on the side like painting nature scenes (I’d imagine she’d be good at it)

Pottery is banned bc Clayface was v vocally objective to it (don't blame him)

Jervis would be going amongst the crowd and ‘assisting’ with pieces - the only ones who actually let him are the few Rogues he’s on good terms with (i.e Harley and maybe Jon but it depends on his mood)

Joker, well, he isn't even invited to group therapy so he isn't invited to art therapy - probably because he’d rile everyone up and it would just be a mess

Freeze spends his time creating pieces for Nora, from paintings to a jewelry box

It’d probably be canceled tho bc someone would get in a fight w someone else and there would either be paint everywhere or a paintbrush jammed in someone's arm no exception

[nickyschneiderus]

Texans are trying to blame Beyoncé for Beto’s loss, but fans are not hearing it

When Beyoncé posted photos of herself posing in a “Beto” hat three hours before the polls closed in Texas on Tuesday, her fans were overjoyed. However, when Beto O’Rouke conceded the Senate race to incumbent Ted Cruz hours later, detractors were quick to blame Beyoncé’s late endorsement for the loss.

Up until Election Day, Queen B, a Houston native, has stayed away from endorsing either O’Rourke or Cruz to represent Texas in the Senate. In the afternoon, she posted the photos with the accompanying message: “I’m feeling grateful for everyone before me who fought so hard to give us all the right to have a voice. We can’t voice our frustrations and complain about what’s wrong without voting and exercising out power to make it right.”

View this post on Instagram

I’m feeling grateful for everyone before me who fought so hard to give us all the right to have a voice. We can’t voice our frustrations and complain about what’s wrong without voting and exercising our power to make it right. We need you. We all need each other, because when we are truly united we are unstoppable. Sending you all love and positivity on this happy voting day! Every vote counts Every race matters Everywhere.

A post shared by Beyoncé (@beyonce) on Nov 6, 2018 at 2:08pm PST

As with anything Beyoncé touches, the photos took off immediately online. #Beyonce4Beto started trending on Twitter, and O’Rourke himself retweeted one of the photos, thanking Beyoncé for her endorsement. The conversation swirled around the wonders of Bey, as fans urged anyone still unstickered to vote. Then, Beto lost and the conversation shifted.

Thank you, Beyoncé! pic.twitter.com/wfNJsGvrec

— Beto O'Rourke (@BetoORourke) November 6, 2018

People started noticing how late she donned that cap, and the blame game began. Criticism of her timing poured in, as burned Democratic voters tried to find a reason for another six years of Cruz.

That hat should of came a week ago @Beyonce . I know it’s not your fault but this is like your hbo documentary all over again equally poignant & meaningless .

#Beyonce4Beto

— ayan elmi (@ayandoesthings) November 7, 2018

“I blame Beyonce for this,” one user tweeted. “Homegirl couldn’t tweet a day earlier???”

#BetoForSenate #TedCruz #TexasVotes #2018elections #Beyonce4Beto #Beyonce pic.twitter.com/RDmr2IHXi7

— Sonia (@soniaisaguirre) November 7, 2018

Someone should tell her that the time to stand and be counted was….well, any time before she did this. https://t.co/sGFuc6XL1R

— David Corn (@DavidCornDC) November 6, 2018

Personally, I blame Beyoncé. Sis didn’t reveal her endorsement of Beto until the day of the election. Like sis… REALLY SIS pic.twitter.com/6yjlLFyILq

—

(@tigergood_s) November 7, 2018

It was perfectly timed. Republicans hate Beyoncé since the obama era. That would have turned them away.

— NICE (@yoncemyname2) November 7, 2018

It wasn’t long before Beyoncé’s loyal fanbase caught wind of the rising criticism, and shut it down. “Blaming Beyoncé on Twitter but too afraid to confront your racist aunt at Thanksgiving smh that’s sad,” @jpbrammer wrote.

blaming Beyoncé on Twitter but too afraid to confront your racist aunt at Thanksgiving smh that's sad

— JuanPa (@jpbrammer) November 7, 2018

More fans piled on, pointing out that placing the burden of gathering political momentum on celebrities doesn’t make much sense. The past several election cycles have seen a sharp rise in the number of vocal endorsements from popular celebs, but it is hard to say how much those endorsements have helped—or hurt—the people they campaigned for.

Beto did not lose because of Beyoncé. Log out and put your phone down. Thanks. Goodnight.

— jon (@prasejeebus) November 7, 2018

The idea of irate Texas voters blaming Beyoncé for Cruz’s victory seemed particularly off considering that more than half of white women, and 71 percent of white men, voted for Cruz. If there is anyone to point fingers at, perhaps it should be them?

Who is organizing the white women? Because, sheesh. pic.twitter.com/JjERuPa7Qd

— deray (@deray) November 7, 2018

it’s not Beyoncé’s fault Beto lost, we know who she voted for. if you wanna blame someone, blame white people who continue to vote for republicans bc they don’t care about the lives they’re putting at stake by voting for bigots. https://t.co/XsBzBPhbdZ

— nañi (@pettyblackgirI) November 7, 2018

apparently 59% of white women in Texas voted for Ted Cruz and white people are on here talking about what Beyoncé should have done differently…just….talk to your relatives.

— Ayesha A. Siddiqi (@AyeshaASiddiqi) November 7, 2018

95% of black women voted for Beto over Cruz. Now is not the time for white men to be blaming black women for Beto’s loss. Maybe let’s talk about how white men and women voted overWHELMINGly for Cruz? You’ve done awesome work, but this is not the move https://t.co/YOvsLptC5v

— spencer claus (@spxncxrx) November 7, 2018

Beyoncé may not have aligned herself with Beto early, but she also didn’t have to do it at all. Fans around the country were given the opportunity to register to vote at every Beyoncé and Jay-Z concert during their OTR II tour.

H/T BuzzFeed News

  from Ricky Schneiderus Curation https://www.dailydot.com/upstream/beyonce-beto-loss/

[secretlyatargaryen]

The way you ended the post ("SMH") did not sound like you were speaking from Jon Con's POV, it sounded like your POV. And I have seen lots of people say, because they actually believe, that it's Tyrion's fault that Jon Connington got greyscale (like geez, Tyrion, how inconsiderate of you to almost drown, forgetting that Tyrion is at risk for it, too), Tyrion's fault if Aegon does x, y, or z, and Tyrion's fault if Daenerys destroys King's Landing (which is speculation based on nothing except the need to absolve Dany of any responsibility. Tyrion is not responsible for what Dany does even if he is counseling her, and he cannot "turn" her towards anything she doesn't already choose to do). You presented this in your post as if it was something you agreed with and presented it uncritically, even though it's entirely unreasonable. Even from Jon Connington's POV, if Dany went after KL and was Aegon's enemy why would he assume "oh, it's really Tyrion's fault, he is counseling her!" That makes no sense. If Dany went after Aegon I doubt Jon would make excuses for her.

Sorry if I misread your post, but people do blame Tyrion for all that stuff. And people also say that Tyrion has STDs which is motivated purely by ableism so "poor Jon Connington, it's all Tyrion's fault" does contribute to that kind of rhetoric regardless of if you meant it "from the character's POV." And like I said, I predicted when people started this topic that it was eventually going to get to someone (even jokingly or from the characters' POV) suggesting that it is Tyrion's fault and that did happen. The point is not whether you are speaking from the characters' POV or not, it's that we're more inclined to understand the POV of someone who has a (frankly, incredibly ableist) attitude towards a disabled character than his POV, despite the fact that we've had it for five books.

In more serious Jon Con musings, if Tyrion has an important hand in the destruction of King's Landing while Jon Con is there, imagine how goddamn pissed he'll be. Tyrion fucked up their entire plan by giving Aegon other ideas, Jon caught greyscale saving his life, and now Tyrion is there getting them all killed? SMH.