#boy howdy this situation is spiralling

[six-of-ravens]

lol update: hashtag confirmed the Boss-Boss (as in, the Top Boss not just the project managers' boss) yelled at the Errant PM today. apparently he went through her task list with her and....did not like what he was seeing lmao. and trust me, this guy has always been very helpful when you're overwhelmed and will go out of his way to help you out, so if he's yelling that truly means there's not a problem with her actually having too much work or unreasonable clients, and it's just her scatterbrained-ness and disorganization.

we abandoned developers are scratching our heads trying to figure out what the hell she's doing if she's not posting tasks for us. like, a) we know she's not doing 8 hours of meetings all day and b) tasks are not going to get off her list if she doesn't give them to people to do.

anyway I'm at the point of wondering if I could ask one of the other PMs to post Errant PM's tasks for me, bc I have nothing to do and also I'm on vacation in a week and a half and I'm getting worried about getting everything done before then 😬

[lone-is-papyrus]

I totally get what you're saying but what if I just went fucking insane?

[mamahersh]

Mamahersh’s Post-MAG-200 Fanfic Recommendation Mega Thread

@a-mag-a-day

In celebration of us finishing The Magnus Archives (even if I admittedly fell off around S2 and have been mostly lurking since then), I have compiled all of my fave post series fics for your enjoyment! I will be grouping them in some big, general categories, which I’ll list above the read more here. Depending on the size of this post, it might start looking a bit like that “Do you like the sky?” post But I can assure you that I have read all of these and can give them my stamp of approval!

If you finished the series and were wishing for your best boys to finally be happy, then boy howdy do I have some fanfiction for you!

Time Travel

Somewhere Else

AUs

Uncategorized JonMartin Fluff

By these categories, we should hopefully cover all the recommendations I have, and I hope you all find some new fics! (or enjoy rereading fics you haven’t enjoyed in awhile)

TIME TRAVEL

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Probably my fave time travel fic in this fandom hands down; it is also currently the longest whilst still unfinished. While I try not to recommend unfinished fics that I am uncertain of their return to activity, this is a big exception and personally I love everything about it! It’s got Jon dealing with trauma through the lens of his speaking only in Statements, Martin being saved from his downward spiral into the Lonely way earlier in S4, Georgie actually sticking around, Basira having a better grasp of the situation and being more understanding about it, and everyone generally sticking close to character while managing to buck parts of the narrative. I cannot recommend this fic enough, and I very likely already did back near the start of S5.

Something’s Different About You Lately by thesnadger

Jonathan Sims has been head archivist for just a few months, but he has memories of holding the position for years. He remembers monsters, and darkness, and the end of the world. Somehow, he'll have to keep everyone safe from what's coming. Meanwhile, his assistants can't understand why their prickly jerk of a boss has gone sappy all of a sudden.

So TMA time travel fics that focus on Jon going back tend to come in two varieties. There’s the “Jon’s mind goes back and replaces himself/inhabits his past self’s body” and then there’s the “Jon physically goes back so there’s two Jons”. The first two on this list are of the first variety, and if I remember right this was one of the first I ever read. However, I recommend this one specifically because this has an amazing ending. Like, it might just be me, but many of the endings in these feel relatively unsatisfying because there’s magically a third option where Jon comes out unscathed while saving his S1 archives crew from the Horrors. For whatever reason, it was incredibly satisfying having a fic that didn’t shy away from the options presented in S4 and S5 and I love how they characterize everyone in this one as well.

100 Seconds to Midnight by starspangledbread

Jon and Martin find themselves back in 2011 after attempting to release the fears from their reality. The world is the same one they left behind, but now something has come back with them. They have a chance to destroy the fears once and for all, but it proves harder than expected. Who knew that the best laid plans could be thwarted by nosy co-workers, office romance, the inevitable learning curve of being a time traveler turned grifter, and the refusal to believe in subtlety?

Did someone say Extinction!Jon? This also is a part of a series, though the true sequel to this one is currently unfinished (though it should eventually be completed and only has one chapter to go). An excellent romp, I definitely recommend if you’re looking for something kinda dark, some comedy, a little OOC, and Martin being able to embrace his crime side in the name of saving the world.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Written by my fave (and most prolific) JMart author, we have a perfect example of the other kind of time travel fix it fic in the form of Jon physically travelling to the past to try and save the world. As expected by someone I am calling my fave JMart author, we’re going to be getting double dose on the JMart. I highly recommend if you’re looking for something that starts a little bittersweet, but then ends in copious amounts of fluff.

Reverb (Series) by Wolftraps

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Summary from the first fic in the Reverb series, I highly recommend the first two fics in this series for different reasons. “The Reverb in These Holy Halls” is a great time travel fic that takes some really interesting turns by the end and unlike most fics actually has Jon try to keep Tim safe by keeping him out of the Archives pre-S1. However “Gossip” I recommend if you enjoy those fics formatted to look like official communication of some kind. It’s got people outside the Archives trying to figure out what’s wrong with them during the events of the first fic, and while it would be very confusing to read without the first fic, I’d almost say it’s worth it if you aren’t feeling the tags on the first one. Really fun and entertaining, you can’t go wrong with either one.

The Triumph of Galatea (for Acis is transformed) by TheOestofOCs

Statement of Hazel Rutter.

Jon couldn’t stop reading.

The Fears, however, are a bit more powerful than Jonah gave them credit for. Jon opens the door, but the world can’t hold what’s on the other side.

Time falls through, instead. Past becomes present, and the future is undone.

Statement begins.

Another fic I definitely recommended back at episode 160, but is well worth the second recommendation and/or re-read. Time Travel, but what if Jon could control as well as go into the dreams of the assistants/other Eye aligned people instead of just his victims’ dreams? Very good, even if unfinished, though the author seems likely to finish someday. Check out their other work as well, it’s all very good and has my fave Circus themed fic written to date.

a map of what matters most by gruhukens

“Is that a body,” Tim blurts before he can stop himself, rising to his feet. Martin looks, if possible, even more scared.

“He’s alive!” he hisses, almost defensively. “It’s not - it’s not Gertrude again, I didn’t kill him, he just – I don’t know what happened to him, I just found him in the stacks like this.”

“And you dragged him up here?” Tim says, and then registers several things at once – the build, the hair texture; the little round scars peppering a pair of thin hands and an awfully familiar face. “Wait, is that Jon?”

----

Jon stumbles back into an earlier Archive, looking for a way to fix the world. (Or, mom says it's my turn for the obligatory time travel au)

Directly inspired by CirrusGrey’s fic that I recommended earlier, this is another: Jon travels physically into the past fic. This one though is far more bittersweet than “Yesterday is Here”, but still an excellent read and does a great job at fleshing out the relationships between all the characters.

Saving the Universe: For Dummies by GhostChoir

Finding a man bleeding out in the alleyway was not what Elias wanted to do today. And he certainly didn’t mean to befriend him. But things never did go how he expected.

****** A Post-MAG200 Jon meets a 1970s Elias, an Elias from before he was corrupted by Jonah. Together, the two of them learn to cope with grief, drink more tea than any two people should be able to consume, and commiserate over shitty bosses. Oh, and just for the hell of it, they stop an apocalypse along the way.

Now for a change of pace: What if Jon time travels to the time of early Gertrude and Elias pre-Jonafying? A very good fic is what! While it’s been awhile since I read this, I do remember it’s quite good and deserves a chance. Note: this is NOT Jonathan/Elias, so my apologies if you were looking for that, but it is two very lonely men getting to just have a reliable friend in times of trouble.

A Little Game of Cat and Mouse by Paptato

“Jonah Magnus.” The cloudy silhouette snarled as it’s hand clamped tightly around Jonah's ascot. That was indeed his name, but Jonah couldn’t begin to fathom what he did to have it spat out with such hatred.

But nonetheless, Jonah was a gentleman and he would kindly address the angry figure as politely as possible, “Yes, and you are?”

“What?” The form spluttered as it slowly came into focus. Ah, yes. That probably wasn’t the proper response to being held at gunpoint by a random stranger. Must have been the blow to his head.

(Or in which Jonathan Sims goes back in time and tries to pull a Terminator, but fails and Jonah Magnus finds a new mystery to solve.)

This is that Jonah Magnus/Jonathan Sims enemies to lovers fic your friends warn you about in a good way. It’s not done, but I think it’s still being updated very slowly. Even if all I ever read is the currently released 11 chapters, I will consider it my one exception to my dislike of Jonah/Jon. As you can probably guess by the description, it’s a time travel fix it where Jon gets shunted back in time to when Jonah was still very human and still trying to figure out the Fears. The Web keeps Jon from explaining his circumstances or anything to do with Jonah’s future in particular, but this is a good thing and they both get to learn how to be more human in a world that previously was very antagonistic to those goals. It’s got a heavy dose of comedy, plenty of romantic tension, and lots of both surprising and unsurprising cameos. If you enjoy Dracula Daily, you’ll probably enjoy this imho.

Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey

Sasha remembers being unmade. Tim remembers being Unknown. Jon and Martin remember being unwound. All of them think they're the only one. -------- The S1 crew wakes up in the past with memories up till the moment they died.

So, here’s another one that’s got quite the spin on it. As you can see from the description, this one is where S1 crew all get their minds sent back in time to the time right around Jon’s first statement if I remember right. Another CirrusGrey fic, so it heavily leans on JonMartin, but otherwise it’s a wonderful exploration of the four S1 characters and ends on a very hopeful note!

oh my darling, just a moment of your time by IceEckos12

The Institute is visited by a pair of time travelers, and Jon has an important question for Tim.

Have you ever had a oneshot that just kinda guts you unexpectedly? While this might not do this for everyone, this is an amazing oneshot that gets right the point. I love it a lot, because of all of the fics where future and past meet each other, it very rarely if ever is addressed that past Jon was a douche. Or well it is but past Jon doesn’t necessarily have a character moment from it. Here he does, and despite the briefness of the fic, the author does an amazing job of giving Jon and Tim a moment while making an almost critique of the TMA time travel genre. Highly, highly recommend, and it won’t overstay it’s welcome if it doesn’t end up being your thing.

The Severing of Webs by chlodobird

After Jon kills the world, he travels back in time. Once there, he gets ready to change the future, to save his Assistants, and to watch as everyone learns to hate him again.

Unfortunately, the tapes wrap around him like a fly caught in a Web—he can't move. He's trapped reliving the original timeline, stuck acting out his past actions like an actor rehearsing his lines.

Sasha will die. Tim will die. Martin—

(Jon screams inside his mind, and someone hears him. Fate is not as immutable as he fears.)

This one is a brand new one! While basically all of the others on the list have been out/updating for over a year at this point; this lengthy oneshot just released this month. tbh, very excellent, which is why it has made the list. Also, quite the twist on the usual premise, where being sent back into his head is actually a bad thing this time. Ends with a giant pile of fluff, but who would I be if all my time travel recommendations were not also fix-its?

-

Somewhere Else

it will be this, always by bluejayblueskies

Jon coughed again, and blood stained his lips and blood stained Martin’s hands where they pressed against Jon’s back and blood stained the floor beneath them and help, they needed help.

Martin doesn’t remember shouting. He barely remembers the faces that had surrounded them, wide-eyed and terrified, all utterly unfamiliar.

.

Jon and Martin wake up somewhere else. Jon begins a slow path toward physical recovery, and several important, long-put-off conversations are had as they begin to navigate a new world that they hadn’t thought they’d be alive to see.

So, I’m sure you all have gathered that I have qualms with how much disparity there is between canon and fanon Jmart. This fic is painful, but is the most in character depiction of post 200 JMart fallout I have ever read. The ending is very cathartic, and takes a “realistic” approach to what happens to Jon and Martin as they begin to navigate their relationship after they both had betrayed each other so thoroughly in the leadup and culmination of MAG 200. If you don’t want them immediately making up, this is the fic for you. They get there, but by all that is good do they take their sweet time getting there.

Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex

"I'm sorry, you were found alone."

Jon survived the apocalypse and now will go to the end of this new, unfamiliar world to find Martin again.

So I think I’m just getting all the angsty ones out of the way first lol. Another slow burn, this fic is Jon’s recovery in the new reality while he also searches for what happened to Martin. Since I don’t post the tags, I will say this ones does feature “Eventual Happy Ending”, and I do promise that both Jon and Martin made it to the new reality and lived. But Jon and Martin both get to pine and cope for a while before that happy ending tag comes into play. It’s incredibly well done and explores their characters really well. Personally, I kinda enjoyed the Reddit saga because people mistaking Jon’s pleas for Martin as an ARG is very typical internet and 100% I would have bought into that at age 13.

Of course I need a therapist. I need ten therapists, working round the clock building me a bionic coping mechanism. We have the technology. by MartinKBlackwoodESQ

A story set somewhere else.

I’mma be real with you all, if I believed that characters could write and publish their own fanfiction, I would be halfway convinced the name is accurate. All joking aside however, this is a “crack treated seriously” fic but with characterization so on point I can consistently hear the voice actors when I read this. Admittedly, it’s made easier by it being written in transcript formatting, but if you’re looking for a hilarious time where TMA is suddenly is turned into a buddy cop adventure where Jon and Martin go to a universe where the Fears hadn’t been till their arrival, and they have doubles that already exist there who are living fairly normal lives till the TMA Jon and Martin crash land into their reality... Well this fic is one I cannot recommend highly enough. It also has a sequel, and it is also well worth the read, even if it appears to be on a bit of a break in it’s updates.

Worlds like phyllo pastry by neworld

After episode 200 Jon finds himself alone in a world very much like the one he left but fractionally different. It's so similar he finds versions of his former friends existing happily in the world. Unfortunately they have never met him in this universe and have no idea who he is.

This one’s unfinished, but personally it’s well worth the read as is. Not sure how I feel about the most recent chapter, but the story up till that point is a really fun spin on “Jon and Martin get shunted to a new reality” where Jon learns how to feed in a way that doesn’t cause problems facilitated by the new reality, and re-meets all the people who he lost till this point and has a very silly antagonistic relationship with his alternate self. While fic might be more of a guilty pleasure, it still is written in such a way that I would rank it high enough for this disorganized list.

Death Is The Easy Way Out by traveller19

After having killed Jonah Magnus and ended the Change, Jon and Martin should finally be able to rest. Rest, however, proves impossible when Jon falls ill. What's more, he begins having vivid dreams of their dead friends - Tim, trapped in the destroyed Archives, and Sasha, trapped outside of them. As Jon's condition quickly worsens and the line between dream and reality begins to blur, love is all he and Martin have to hold on to, because hope is a dangerous thing.

Did someone say sickfic??? But for real, this fic has an amazing balance between an A plot and a B plot, and keeps both at the right level of tension throughout. While this is a sickfic heavy one, it also features Tim and Sasha as ghosts trying desperately not to be. There’s also a lovely sequel and plenty of fluff by the end, but this is a rough ride. ALSO, if you or a loved one had covid / any respiratory illness that caused them to be hospitalized with pneumonia and it could be trigging to read incredibly on the nose descriptions of that experience, this fic is not for you. Or very cathartic. :/

Castaways by CirrusGrey

Welcome to the Castaway Foundation, a nonprofit organization dedicated to providing a safe and secure landing to those lost souls banished from their home worlds by the influence of Fear.

If you wanted saccharine JMart in a new reality where they get therapy and meet old friends from different realities, this series of (mostly) one shots is for you! As you’ve probably come to expect when I suggest CirrusGrey, the writing is fantastic, the ship dynamics are exemplary, and the character are on point. There is so much to say about this series, but mostly, if you want Jon and Martin healing and then settling together and becoming the stereotypical married couple, then this is it. It’s not done, but it is wrapping up, and I hope you all if you haven’t seen this yet enjoy it as much as I do. And for those long time readers who have been reading it longer than I’ve been in the fandom, here’s your friendly reminder that it exists.

Do Before I Die by SupposedToBeWriting

Somewhere Else, Jon can't seem to shake the strange apathy that now plagues his life. Everything reminds Martin of the end of the world. For a change of pace, he and Martin rent a campervan and go on a road trip. Their mission? To fulfill the 'bucket list' Martin made when he was eighteen and lonely. Jon's looking forward to the beach.

Jon and Martin go on a Road Trip accross Britain. It’s just a wholesome and hurt/comfort as it describes. An excellent romp, and the character studies are wonderful. The Planetarium still sticks with me.

ours is a distant shore (series) by pantsoflobster

“If they ever found out about us, we could make things really complicated for them," Jon said. Martin gave a thoughtful hum and then a loaded pause before he said, “Or simpler.” “What?” “We could, you know…” Martin then made mischievous eyes at him in lieu of expanding. “What?” Jon said, thoroughly lost. “Wouldn’t it be a bit fun to sort of... nudge them in the right direction?”

Months after they arrive Somewhere Else, Jon sees himself in the shop.

Summary is from the first fic in the series, this is a fun little romp for those who hated Martin’s defeatism over his and Jon’s relationship in MAG199 and want to see what would happen if instead he accidentally kick started an alternate version and his and Jon’s relationship Somewhere Else. It’s all very silly, tho the last fic does lean more into the hurt/comfort tag than the previous two. Over all though, if you’re looking for a little crack, a lot of fluff, and Jon and Martin being silly this is a good time.

Written in the Stars Will Have to Do by GentlemanCrow

“Yeah well, god knows why, but he thinks you hung the moon, so you might try treating him at the very least like a human being once in a while.”

It was such a small thing. Small words for a small feeling cloaked in a chintzy veneer of idiomatic dismissal. A trembling little bird cupped in his scarred and battered hands and smothered. Or so he thought. Sometimes trembling little birds turn out to be phoenixes, and those who looked to someone else to hang the comfort of a wise, silvery moon in the sky already have the hammer and the picture wire at the ready.

As far as Jon was concerned, the moon only rose on their Somewhere Else because Martin deigned to pull the strings every night, not him.

This is another one of those JMart Somewhere Else fics masquerading as a Safehouse fic that made me want to cry. It’s just, so wonderful, and once again we have themes of healing, but this time through getting a hobby and sharing it with your significant other. The writing is lovely and really gives off the stuffy academic musings I would expect being in Jon’s head (which we are for the duration of this fic) but adds a layer that I didn’t realized I needed till I read it.

On Errantry by ZaliaChimera

Somewhere Else, Jon and Martin discover that their new home has a very special sort of guardian, and Jon seeks judgement from an unexpected source.

They do say that cats purring can heal...

A cute one shot that deals with Jon’s lingering guilt from S5; this is a wonderful tale from Somewhere Else featuring a giant Cat, Martin being supportive, and Jon trying to reconcile his second chance. Very sweet and fluffy, guaranteed!

Lost, Unfound, But Not Forgotten by Elynn

They didn’t find bodies. Or anything pointing to where they may have gone. In the center of the rubble, what Georgie assumed to have once been the top of the tower, was a puddle of dried, crusted blood, and the outline of bodies in the dust and scorch marks. And she knew that wherever the Fears had gone, Jon and Martin had gone with them. The last victims, snuffed and dragged away with them. --- In the weeks after the Eye-pocolypse, Georgie Barker begins the painful process of mourning her best friend.

So, I know I’m very focused on Jon, but I have one fic of Georgie here that’s 10/10. Post 200, Georgie and Melanie eventually goes to clean out Daisy’s cabin of Jon and Martin’s things for Basira (or something like that) and Georgie finds a journal of Jon’s that he kept whilst there. It’s just as bittersweet as you’d imagine, but it’s fantastically cathartic to read and in our MAG 200 feels, this is a good one for closure.

Not Quite Somewhere Else by hawkfurze

Or you can find it on Tumblr HERE

A special entry to finish out this section, I have a long running comic from Tumblr user @hawkfurze who made a TMA x Infinity Train crossover. While I had not watched the show previously (only seen the trailer/pilot from back before it got picked up by CN), the comic is still easy to understand and explains the Infinity Train parts in such a way as to not need any prior knowledge. I highly recommend this comic for anyone who wants a visual treat delving into the relationship and psyches of Jon and Martin as they try to escape into the next reality.

-

AUs

Two Graves by SupposedToBeWriting

Jon sends the fears far from Earth and flees London, leaving the others to assume the worst. He settles in a small village and opts to live there quietly until he dies, a self-imposed penance. This plan is foiled when the first former Avatar shows up - and Jon realizes that every domain-keeper in the apocalypse still has some faint connection to him.

After a year of being a shoulder to cry on for confused and distraught former Avatars, Jon leads a moderately happy life. He has a flourishing garden, a cat, and some company. All of that comes crashing around his ears (or his head) when a familiar face shows up to his cabin, demanding answers.

This fic is in my top 5 fics of TMA fandom. No contest. It has some of the best healing from MAG 200 for Jon and Martin and tbh the world I’ve seen. It’s got that incredible hurt/comfort and the ending makes me cry tears of joy every time I read it. If you read any JMart fic on this list, please read this one if you can only read one. While I was tempted to put this in a different category, this seemed like the best place to put it.

What Comes After by Mornrandir

More than a year after the apocalypse, the world is starting to move on. Georgie, Melanie, and Basira have learned to move on and get back to living their lives. Then Martin reappears- without Jon- and they have to learn to begin again.

A series based around the initial above description, each entry in the series follows the healing of first Martin, then Jon, then both of them together. While I am a Jon-centric woman, if you are of a more Martin-centric leaning, this first fic in the series should scratch that itch. The final entry is very sweet, and the second definitely has a unique reason as to why Jon shows up so late to the after-Fears party.

The Watcher’s Cows by lenioia

He still remembers the first cup of tea Martin brought him. That’s where it began, not with the dog incident. A sweet and strong blend, reasons for appearance unknown, how could it taste so good, also unknown. Jon stares at what will be the last cup between them. His miserable parting gift. Where it’ll end.

Alt Mag 200, or in a slightly kinder universe which differs by exactly one cup of tea, Martin is the one who switches plan last minute, and Jon’s last half-backed scheme, for once, works.

An AU splitting off MAG 199/200, where Jon’s plan actually happens, but instead of it being quite so bleak he finds a new path with the help of Martin. I know the original ending of the series is probably the most hopeful one realistically, but we all enjoy our fixits here, so this is a really sappy “by the power of love” Jon and Martin save the universe and still get to live in it AU. Highly highly recommend, and it finished within the last 8 months, so it’s “on the newer side” as it were. If you haven’t read it, give it a shot, and if you’ve read it and it’s been awhile now’s a good time to read it again.

The Eyespot Chronicles (series) by SupposedToBeWriting

To Martin Blackwood's surprise, he wakes up in the ruins of the Magnus Institute. He thought he would be dead. The world is back to normal, the Entities are gone, and everyone realizes that it's finally over. The only sticking point is that Jon isn't exactly the Jon that went into the apocalypse. Never one to give up, Martin is determined to make a life for himself and his boyfriend. Even if he is a giant moth.

Summary taken from the first in the series, this trilogy of fics covers Jon and Martin’s attempts at healing in a world that remembers what happened. The first fic focuses entirely on Martin’s struggles, the second on Jon’s, and the 3rd (as you might guess) focuses on them both. The series is excellent, and if you’ve got the fortitude for canon-typical emotional constipation after having just experienced MAG-200 it’s well worth the read.

Another Guest for Mr. Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Jon isn't eating his statements like he should.

Mr. Spider doesn't like it.

Written in transcript format, this AU considers the idea of what if the Web was more hands on it it’s approach to getting Jon to Become more monstrous; or at least not starve himself out. Incredible read, you need an AO3 account though. But I have never been that spooked by a Statement or encounter before I read this fic. If you DO NOT like spiders on you or in your mouth and you don’t like reading about it either, potentially hold off on this fic, or at least skip from where Mr. Spider says “Open your mouth. Do not move.” to when he says “Wash it down with this. Now.” But yeah if you didn’t get enough spider trauma from canon, this fic gives it in spades! (And if you want Mr. Spider getting his comeuppance, you get that too ;) )

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

A long form AU of what if Gerry Keay was brought back by the Eye to convince Jon to stay on team Monster if you will. Goes all the way through MAG-200, has some great twists and turns, and manages to turn into an “Everyone Lives AU” as well. While it is currently updating, it’s updating every week on Saturday till it finishes, and she only has 2 chapters left. If you’ve managed to never read this, now is certainly the time for it! It is Jon/Gerry/Martin, so if that’s not your exact cup of tea I’d still say give it a shot.

we should ride this wave to shore by ClarionGlass

“archives research & statement envestigation” Timothy Stoker renamed the group “drinks drinks drinks” Timothy Stoker changed Sasha James’s nickname to saucy sash Timothy Stoker changed Martin Blackwood’s nickname to martini kart Timothy Stoker changed his nickname to stonked stonked: so how bout it lads saucy sash: oh god. A TMA group chat fic where the worst problems they have to deal with start with "h" and end with "angovers"

Right, I don’t tend to read chat fics, I’m going to be honest with you all. I have two exceptions and this is one of them. It goes interesting places, the characters are not completely OOC, if it they are at least it’s consistent OOC and not in a grating way. But in all seriousness, I recommend this because of how it ties in with MAG 160 and 200; as well as how the sequel deals with canon S5. The sequel isn’t finished and is slow to update, but I am still recommending at the very least the first one. It’s a good romp and I highly recommend.

Ask an Exec: How to Navigate Cultish Colleagues, Soul-Stealing Bosses, and the End of the World at Work by shinyopals

I've recently been unexpectedly promoted to lead a department in my organisation, wrote the anonymous emailer.

As there was no one working here when I arrived, my manager, who is head of the organisation, had promised me the choice of my own assistants. However, without warning, he simply presented me with an additional assistant. This new assistant’s first act on his first day was to let a dog into the office. It took several hours to catch and clean up after this dog and it has only been downhill from there. I admit I'm not entirely sure what to do with this assistant now I'm stuck with him. I'm hoping you have some advice?

Kind regards, New Manager

Abigail Bailey runs a successful management advice blog. One frequent contributor is from a workplace with some... issues.

While this isn’t quite an AU and is basically canon compliant, I’m putting it here because it’s a “what if Jon was an avid seeker of advice on a management advice blog?” AU. It’s beautifully formatted, and features very in character interactions. If you are a sucker for the TMA trope: how do normal people react to the weirdness at the Institute, then this is a great fic for you. I know it’s probably one of the most popular things to have hit the Jonathan Sims tag on AO3 in recent months, but this is just me reminding you all it exists and well worth the re-read.

JMart Fluff

Author CirrusGrey

Literally anything by them. I think I probably recommend them every time I talk about JMart, but I think on AO3 they are both the most prolific and one of the best writers for the tag. Pick almost any fic they’ve written for TMA and it’s probably JMart. There’s too many fics of their’s to recommend, so I’ll just link you straight to their profile and you can go swimming from there lol.

Jon’s Moving Castle by IceEckos12

Martin Blackwood may not have a perfect life, but he does have a good one. That is, until a series of magical encounters leave him with an unfortunate curse. Out of other options, he goes to the wizard who lives in the moving castle for aid.

Life never goes how he intends it to, though.

Basically Howl’s Moving Castle, but with a TMA spin. You don’t need to have seen the movie to understand what’s going on, and honestly while it sticks fairly close to the movie, it doesn’t stick so close that it feels constrained by it in places where it wouldn’t make sense in the AU they’ve set up. It’s a very sweet JMart fic with a satisfying conclusion.

The 101 Kidnappings of Jonathan Sims (and Other Inconveniences) by beetlejoos

Martin Blackwood never applies for a job at the Magnus Institute. The universe seems determined that he meets Jonathan Sims anyway. But is it Fate, or something more sinister, that keeps bringing the two of them together?

Right, this mostly crack treated seriously. It’s got hurt/comfort, but it’s fairly light hearted throughout. As one could guess by the title and description, Jon is repeatedly kidnapped and brought to wherever Martin is living/working at the time. While it’s not done yet, and not on a schedule, the chapters that are out thus far are well worth the read. That and there’s some cute fan art for it that’s linked to in the end notes. But I recommend this because it’s got that vibe of S1 Jon meets S1 Martin outside of the Institute and romance (eventually) happens. Very fun read if you haven’t read it yet.

i think we’re alone now + alone-verse (series) by milliganopen

Just a couple of guys breaking into a basement. What could go wrong?

Getting trapped in your apartment with your boss, that's what.

Season 1 re-imagined if Jon and Martin had been trapped by Jane Prentiss together.

Initially I recommended this back when we had hit MAG039/022 because it was a great AU to Martin’s Statement where Jon also gets trapped in Martin’s apartment during Martin’s no good very bad 2 weeks of worm siege. HOWEVER, the author has since continued this series and is slowly working their way through canon one season/fic at a time. They’re currently on S3, and I am definitely keeping an eye on it for whenever the next update happens. If you haven’t had the time to check it out, it’s got some very good JMart moments, and their relationship manages to move faster than a glacier.

Fate, or Something by HermaeusMora

"You can't be serious." Jonathan Sims raises his eyes at last to properly look at Georgie, expecting her to laugh and make some quip about finally getting him to put the damn book down, at least.

"Well, I am," she shoots back.

He sets his book aside and turns fully towards her, betrayal clear on his face. "A blind date, really?"

Jon makes the frankly terrible decision to go on a blind date with one Martin Blackwood. Fate ensues. AU where Jon and Georgie are still friends, Georgie likes finding dates for her friends, Martin doesn't work at the institute, and everyone is just a bit happier while canon spooky stuff goes on in the background. Takes place juuust barely pre-canon in the beginning but catches up quickly. Inspired as usual by the wonderful conversations with my friend RavenXavier/somuchbetterthanthat.

A fun AU that challenges the idea that Jon and Martin are incompatible a la MAG199. Excellently done and well worth the time to check it out.

Diary by luftballoons99

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

A bit of a bittersweet mostly fluff oneshot focused on Jon and Martin having a night in at the Safehouse and talking about good things from their pasts. (Warning, the sequel is rated E(xplicit) for a reason, so I am only recommending Diary. Both are stand alone however.)

Weaving My Heartstrings by arms_full_of_hyacinths

At least he was someone. Someone who could deal with the spiders. That was probably the source of the nerves unspooling like magnetic tape to fill Jon’s stomach with buzzing static butterflies.

Yes, Martin was much bigger than a spider. He was probably the kind of person who cupped them in his hands and talked to them as he walked them out into the garden, which shouldn’t be giving Jon a burst of warm feeling at all, since his preferred method of spider disposal was simply to squash them on sight.

Martin likes Jon almost as much as Jon hates spiders. When a statement from an institute employee sends them spiraling into the center of a complicated web, they'll need to rely on each other if they want to make it out alive.

Bit of an odd suggestion to close us out, but this one is a fun almost episodic plot about an original Statement and the shenanigans Jon and Martin get into trying to research it. It’s very good, features some very on point S1 Jon and Martin along with a bit of a fast forward on their relationship throughout.

And with that, I’ve probably overstayed my welcome lol. I hope you found something new to read! If not, I at least hope that you had fun rereading some old faves. This has taken me a day or two to compile and format, so I hope you all enjoy in whatever capacity that ends up being! Happy end of A Mag A Day, and it was a joy walking alongside you all. Congrats to A MAG A Day blog owners on all your hard work for the last ~210 days and with this post I wish you all a very fond farewell.

[catty-words]

I’m not sure if you’ve answered this already but I’m wondering if you could further elaborate what your issue is with how Ben and Devi in season 2

boy howdy. i’ve got wine, i’ve got an intense attachment to these two characters, and i’m ready to rant. but just remember - you literally asked for this.

to really delve into why i find season two d/b a bit of a letdown, i think it’d be helpful to first establish what it is that drew me to the pairing in season one. some of it, of course, is surface-level shit, like the fact that maitreyi and jaren have chemistry that crackles on the screen and that their faces are pretty and they react to each other in really amusing and heart-wrenching ways. but, more to the point, it’s the way the characters are inextricably linked by the way their stories parallel and interact with each other that truly sent me on a spiral last summer.

devi is a snot. she loves being the center of attention. she’s insecure. she cares about being the best at school not just because it’s been ingrained in her that she should, but because she has goals and ambitions that are served by being the best. she’s pop culture and image obsessed. she’s desperate for the acceptance of her peers. and, because of this image obsession and desperation for acceptance, she feels compelled to mask the fact that she’s deeply, deeply sad.

pretty much every single one of these traits also applies to ben - all you have to do is take away the notion that being the best is ingrained by his parents and substitute sadness over a parent’s passing for sadness born out of parental neglect. and the fact that they’re so similar but have a well-cultivated resentment of each other? that’s exactly my shit. that’s literary self-hatred, poetic cinema, etc. they understand each other better than anyone else does or can because they, in essence, are an extension of each other. so there’s a ton of cool character work going on in their every interaction - the deepening empathy for others and a quest for greater self understanding.

you also have the way that, at the show’s young-adult coming-of-age core, is how horny and in need of an outlet for that horniness devi is. so, again, on the surface, d/b gets all the heat of two characters pitted against each other as enemies, which is super fun to watch and completely effective because, again, maitreyi and jaren have incredible on-screen chemistry. but under the surface, ben also gets to be devi’s safe space. because he understands her insecurity and her drive to be more than the weird nerd people perceive her as - he shares those things. which means intimacy between them happens almost by accident. devi’s not trying to manufacture it, it’s just there for her to fall into.

the characters know each other. and with that knowledge comes both the safety of being your true self and the tricky mess that is getting held accountable when you try to shirk who you really are in favor of fantasy.

so. season two. that chemistry between the actors doesn’t go away, of course, but the compelling sameness of the characters does.

what do i mean by that? well, it has a lot to do with the way ben is written as Morally Correct in his every action in season two, where devi’s a bumbling mess. he recognizes that cheating on shira was wrong, and he wants devi to know that he’s emotionally intelligent enough to Get That and mature enough to put an end to his wrongdoing. he hears that devi started the rumor about aneesa and he’s here to urge her down the path of redemption. he was scorned by devi, but he’s still going to show up in the bathroom and tend to her emotional well-being when another dude trods all over her.

i’ve gotten the sense that a lot of people found this characterization romantic and Romantically tragic, but it legitimately angers me. i don’t want the ben that’s so smitten with devi that he’ll cater his every move to helping her grow and realize how she, too, can be as Morally Correct as him. i want the ben that tells her india’s not that different from coachella & that mowgli didn’t run away from home, so stop whining and face what’s really scaring you, dummy! i wanted to see his anger, not wounded acceptance that no one loves him the way he loves them. i wanted to see him be the wretched little asshole i know and love because those traits - that acting out and being loud and not accepting anything less than what he wants from any given situation - are what make him so compatible with devi!! she’s not some swooning damsel who needs her knight ben to swoop in and help her make the right decision and he’s not some enlightened knight who’s just trying to do right by his lady love!! they’re messy!!! they’re angry!!! and they’ve spent pretty much their whole lives striving to prove they’re better than the other!!! a couple weeks of kissing would not negate the lifetime of hostility between them, nor ben’s tendency to fall back on obnoxious showboating to prove his worth to the world!!!

i feel like i keep talking around The Thing instead of being able to name it directly, but my frustration lies in the way devi becomes meeker and less in control of her actions in season two where ben becomes a romanticized ideal for whom devi isn’t good enough but hopes to prove herself worthy of anyway. because that’s somehow a far uglier dynamic than devi getting with a guy who once called her an unfuckable nerd.

[sepublic]

           I really like how Amelia’s takeover of the Infinity Train, at least what we’ve seen through Ryan and Min, is so, well… normal, honestly! Obviously there’s a lot we’re missing out on, probably some BRUTALLY dark moments when she did the actual usurpation, but in that brief period afterwards, where Amelia is no doubt resting, reveling in her victory, before she remembers she has to get back to business, she has no more conflict with anyone;

           Like, there’s no ominous tone, no mwa-ha-ha moment of villainous triumph from her; She just kind of awkwardly spills the beans about everyone being on their own, and then does her own thing! The way it’s handled, you could really see the whole thing out of context, as Amelia the misguided but well-meaning protagonist, getting into some hijinx and mischief and being a bit selfish, but it’s not THAT bad… It’s like watching Tulip take control of the Steward’s arm for herself!

           Except… Well, we know what happens. We know the slippery slope Amelia slides down, we know how her problems get worse as she becomes more and more detached. Even what we see isn’t great, considering she basically admits, even if it’s in an awkward, nothing-personal sort of way, that she’s going to completely neglect the train. Again, out of context, you could see the whole thing, and it could just as easily be an episode of some show where the protagonist gets in over her head and decides to be selfish, only to learn her lesson at the end not to do this sort of thing, etc.

           Only… It takes Amelia decades to figure this out, on her own- And she causes a LOT of tragic damage! It’s only really through Tulip that Amelia has her wake-up call… But by the end of the day, it’s both charming and down-to-earth, refreshing and even scary, how it all plays out; Because you really can see how one innocuous thought leads to another innocuous mistake, as Amelia slowly descends into worse acts, doing things that she KNOWS is a bit bad, but clearly she’s not conducting herself as some villain, but just some regular person who just needs guidance and to learn their fantasy lesson at the end…

           …And she does, but after several decades and irreparable damage, an indirect cult, and also her own child, lowkey??? Just the way Amelia clearly isn’t fit for this role, like she’s wearing something several sizes too big, how her tone is lowkey apologetic, kind of sheepish, she just needs to get on with this. Amelia clarifies that they’re ALL alone, but in a way that’s almost saddened and regretful, with resignation; She really does NOT want to do this! Like she can understand how the others must feel about this, she gets it, she really does, Amelia knows what it’s like and she’d really love to apply her own help, but she NEEDS to do this for herself, and she thinks she does…

          It’s similar to watching the protagonist get into mischief but it’s FINE, it’ll be fine… And normally there is a disaster, but a controllable one, and not for too long, but then we know how things REALLY spiral for Amelia- And you can see exactly how, you can see her as the hero of her own story, etc. You know that she recognizes a similar situation in herself with others, so you trust that she’s capable of doing the right thing as a result.

          We even see her make a silly mistake when she accidentally blows up the Steward! She’s not perfect, she’s clearly trying her best, and it makes her feel so much more HUMAN to me… Amelia really is someone who’s misunderstanding things, being a bit willfully ignorant, and you have faith in her to turn around, but boy howdy is patience required for her! In a completely different context, this could easily be a dark humor joke from the perspective of a learning protagonist who’s clearly coming to terms with caring for people, but you know it’s going to turn out fine in the end so it’s not THAT big a deal… But Infinity Train really spins an uncomfortably realistic downward spiral on this kind of tale.

          It’s like watching an episode where the hero gets blindsided by their selfish yet understandable wants and hopes, briefly crossing a moral line… But then she just keeps doing it, over and over, and progressively farther past that moral horizon, until we see a sad, bitter old lady who tries to attack a literal child and ‘kills’ her Corgi companion. A neglectful, apathetic opportunist who appears as a dark and intimidating god to a young and scared Grace. You were rooting for Amelia, but also wincing and cringing at each mistake, holding onto the hope and faith that eventually she’ll realize what she’s doing is wrong… 

          And as I said, it’s gonna take a LOT of patience. You know she’ll eventually learn her lesson and turn around, you cheer on her to do so… But the mistakes keep piling up! You can understand why at the initial beginning of the story, you can mind and tolerate it because ultimately Amelia’s meant to figure out and apologize, you can even sympathize even if you know it’s wrong, and thus make some light of it… But, OH Amelia!

           And now she’s jaded and tired, and Amelia’s no doubt wondering where it all went wrong- But at the same time, reliving it in her head, she can fully understand WHY she did that, and it kind of makes her more reluctant to admit she was wrong. That sure, it WAS a mistake, but really, anyone would do it in HER position… Amelia really thought and hoped she was the good guy, that she was doing the right thing, performing the wonderful heroic tale of bringing back her lover; But now it’s crashing down as it dawns on her that all she did was become the ‘villain’, so to speak.

          It’s a painful denial in the wake of her mistakes, she WANTS to turn better, she at least knows she can’t keep going on like this- But she can’t help but have the pride to think that her course of action was just so sensible. I really think this could tie into Duet, and how people like Kez, Ryan, and Min learn to take responsibility, accountability for their actions- That yeah they didn’t mean it, yeah it was an accident, yeah they were trying their best, you could hardly blame them; But they still messed up and hurt people, and they shouldn’t have done that. There’s enough maturity to recognize that sometimes, both parties messed up- That Amelia can criticize One (now One-One) all she wants, but she still chose to make her mistakes when she shouldn’t have and knew it, that this was no justification for what she did.

[grimtrespasser]

Okay so,, I kinda,,,, came up with a whole au in which Anakin and Padmé are t4t, cause I was mad at Star Wars again, dicking around in my friend’s DMs, and I joked they’d have a way better relationship if they were and it kinda,,, spiraled skdks. It just dredged up a lot of follow up questions about how that’d affect the continuity and now it’s my self indulgent Anakin/Padmé/Rex fixit. So uhhh… some notes I have about the t4t au!

• obviously, first off, Padmé is a trans woman and Anakin is a trans man

• Luke and Ahsoka are also trans in this au because I said so

• When Luke officially comes out as trans Padmé jokes that he gets it from Rex’s side of the family much to Anakin’s delight and Rex’s complete confusion

• I’m under no circumstances killing Fives in this au that shit hurt me, so in this one he’s frazzled by the discovery of Palpatine but Rex and Anakin actually listen when he calls them to that warehouse and when authorities arrive they claim he was shot and fell over the edge into the center of Coruscant when in reality they call in some favors to smuggle him away safely

• Because they discover the chips through Fives so early on, they’re able to start covertly de-chipping some of the clones (with a lil jedi assistance à la Anakin and Shaak Ti), they obviously don’t manage to remove the chips of all the clones but they get a fair chunk saving themselves a lOt of pain come Order 66

• Mmmm big fan of Rex’s stiff awkward phase when he first starts attempting non-professional relationships, he’s a bit better by the time he starts crushing on Anakin and even more so when he falls for Padmé but bOy howdy does it take him awhile to just fuckin relax around them

• Rex, consistently getting crushes on badass dudes: I think I’m gay

Padmé: Hello, commander :)

Rex: hahaha bi panic: activate

• Legit he’s so awkward and uncomfortable in casual contexts I love him for that

• So I think a few critical changes are what push Anakin away from the dark side in this au:

1) When Fives uncovers the conspiracy, though by this point Anakin is friends with Palpatine and has a hard time reconciling what Fives saw and the existence of the chips with who he’s come to know Palpatine as

2) His decent fucking support system because holy fUck how do you have a whole found family network and yet they stILL fail to actually support you the whole damn way?? Obi-Wan doesn’t tell him his emotionality is dark side stuff! The council doesn’t just tell him to repress shit! His relationship with Padmé gets actual fuckin development and is actually healthy in this au!! FffUck

3) The twins, cause duh. They obviously happen at the very end of the Clone Wars so Anakin getting pregnant is what leads up to his final loss of trust in Palpatine and his decision to stick up for himself and his family against what the council might potentially say.

• Ahsoka still leaves the Jedi Order in this au cause I think it’s just too pivotal an aspect of her character, and at first Anakin is angry and betrayed but eventually he comes to accept it was the best option for her and doesn’t resent her for her choice. Especially after finding out about the twins and realizing his family won’t be readily accepted by the Order even though both are incredibly important to him

• Ahsoka is the one who tells him it’s twins, I just think it’d be hilarious if Kix’s initial tests really early on didn’t reveal that so when Anakin got Obi-Wan and Ahsoka together to break the news Ahsoka sensed both the kids through the living force and just went “Oh my gosh you’re having twins!” Right before Anakin could say he was pregnant, and his brain just breaks cause like…. Twins?? Oh god, twins????

• In turn Padmé almost chokes on her tea and Rex nearly fuckin faints when Anakin has to tell them it’s twins, like they had jUst come to terms with one baby and now they know it’s gonna be two and they are going thrOugh it

• Really want Anakin to just,,, go off and get really anti-government at some point. Like the more he becomes aware of his garbage circumstances at the Order and working for the Republic, the more he starts to recognize his childhood experiences in the clones’ situation, and the angrier he gets at the systems in power that facilitated all this injustice. He’s just never been afforded the chance at being free, so once he starts asking questions, he starts seeing what’s behind the curtain real fuckin quick. Except this time he’s got the support system to channel that anger into productivity rather than letting it consume him.

• I’m a big fan of the Anakin Doesn’t Turn But The Empire Still Rises AUs so this one follows a similar continuity. After all, Anakin was just a particularly close pawn, Palpatine still had a million other ways to ensure he came out on top, so when everything breaks bad Anakin escapes with Padmé, the twins, and his battalion. And because they were alerted to Palpatine’s plans by Fives they had an extended escape plan with a handful of other battalions, including the 212th and the Wolf Pack. A lot of them help build up the rebellion or become involved with it later down the line, once the movement starts to gain more traction.

Will I do anything with this au? Who knows! Buts it’s certainly fun for me to think about and I’m always coming up with random new details, so we’ll just see where my spite and curiosity takes me with this one. At the very least I’ve already got some doodles I might post later

[buckaroundandfindout]

truth be told I don’t think buck was triggered, by disarming? surprised, and maybe surprised at ayo? idk maybe it’s a hot take but...

first I’m reasonably certain he doesn’t have as much anxiety about his arm, comparatively. Everyone’s different, and shit hits everyone different. I’m sure that disarming is horribly traumatic for a ton of folks, but for Bucky? Idk, I just don’t think that’d be the thing to shake him or send him spiraling.

I get the vibe that he was always way more scared of getting his mental autonomy taken again by those words in his head rather than anything about his arm. he seemed pretty chill about living with one arm in Wakanda (might’ve been happy with that forever tbh), and he seemed fine about not having an arm before they put him under at the end of CA:CW. Whereas in the beginning, he broke his ass out of supersoldier containment to try and stop Zemo from using the book + words to release the soldier.

(But hey, again— for some people bodily autonomy would be the worst thing and there’s nothing wrong with that. For others, it’s mental autonomy, or could be emotional trauma that hits way worse. Different for everyone, and this ain’t the misery olympics. It’s all valid.)

I def read like the arm was more a weight, a burden physically and emotionally, that he needed to put down for a while. And then when asked, he picked it right back up, willing to carry that burden a while longer to do what he had to do

But he’s kinda... still fighting? And still wearing it— even tho he doesn’t really have to in TFATWS? He’s got the choice to put it down now, if he wants (and apparently easily, holy shit Ayo). And since he hasn’t put it down, I think that says a lot.

Because, conversely, I don’t think there’s a situation in all of reality that would make him cool with picking up a new set of trigger words, yknow? Our boy literally cried from the catharsis of being free from that (in a way he hasn’t about his arm). If anything, I could see that being his breaking point— I think he’d truly prefer to tap out than go thru anything like that again.

So yeah— that’s one reason I don’t think the arm thing was that big a deal.

second, I don’t think he’s fragile? Kinda not actually “worried” (the man is fictional, remember that kids).

Frankly, he is one strong motherfucker.

He’s been thru an idiotic amount of shit: War. Prisoner of war. Torture, brainwashing. Guilt & blood on his hands. Amputation. Losing everyone he ever knew, not just his family. Most def has some flavor of ptsd with all the nightmares. Being treated as criminal for something he couldn’t control. Fighting to stop the planet from ending. Losing his best friend, and then watching some offbrand chucklefuck try to fill his shoes.

And he’s still here.

And still fighting.

What the actual fuck.

So yeah. I guess I just don’t feel like he’s gotta be babied. Because it doesn’t really seem like he needs to be handled with kid gloves about...anything.

He’s in therapy. He’s got Sam. He’s doing alright with making amends and with Yori, he’s learning how to manage the weight of his past. He got a haircut, which lemme tell ya after trauma is fucking freeing. He’s even sucking up whatever shit he’s got with Zemo to do what he thinks is the right thing. And he can still kinda laugh about shit, joking-but-not that he’s crazy & semi-stable. He has a sense of humor, however dark/dry/sassy it may be. So maybe he’s a little broken, sure, but. Shit, aren’t we all?

He’s nothing if not resilient. Holy shit is he resilient, he is still. fucking. going. after all that. And that’s a mood I feel deep in my soul. probably doesn’t see himself as a hero, but he’s absolutely my hero.

I am 100% probably projecting because boy howdy do I see myself. But tbh seeing Bucky keep going is like fuck yeah man, you and me both. ain’t nothing gonna keep us down.

[iiryebreadii]

Episode 11

Oh boy this is a long one...

- Hey Doc, could you be a little less ominous please???

- “We are afraid of death, and, well... working on that one.” Excuse me what does this mean, sir. I dearly hope you are referring to humanity’s general working toward immortality and not to personal experiments because I have NOT forgotten your spooky experiment on Eiffel

- Hey this whole thing was super unsettling!! I do not know what to think about the emergency door, so I’m going to just put that in a little “marked for later” box in my head

- Hera!! She is here and she is Hearing Everything

- Specimen 34 is also here

- UNSEEN AND UNKNOWN THING????

- Hera what are you hidingggg

- Hey Hera please stop planning their deaths please please please you are being very spooky

- Very cool exploration of an AI’s mind

- Aw will she miss Doug??? :(

- You are more than your programming girl keep at it

- This girl really do be lowkey resenting humanity huh

- Doug time babey

- Psych eval!

- ACCIDENTAL INCINERATION WHAT

- This man hates his job and honestly good for him I would hate it too

- THIS MAN

- He’s a great listener babey

- THIS FOOL BEEN TALKING TO HIMSELF THE WHOLE TIME I LOVE IT

- MAGNIFICENT

- commander sending out messages

- SHES NOT DONE EIFFEL LEAVE HER ALONE

- dang commander how’s it feel to hold the only braincell

- the talent show was a resounding success *cue me making a wheezing/honking sound that approximates a laugh*

- Oooooo we getting into the real stuff now

- Doc Hilbert made the funky plant I guess, that’s cool

- Weird weather conditions and that’s not normal so cool

- Who KNOWS what the doc is doing he’s lying all the time

- Weird noises, more people than the three of them???

- The station is changing???????

- Eiffel why are you an idiot

- TIME TRAVEL EXCUSE ME????????

- They’re not noticing????

- Oh dear. commander is sounding VERY paranoid and that’s not a good look for the commander of a three person crew

- Rip to the commander she is trying her best but MAN is that station weird

- ok I was NOT expecting this when I started listening to this podcast. Basically all I knew about it going in was that it was in space and also funny

- Had no idea if there was even an overarching plot but BOY HOWDY apparently there is one!!!

- No idea what genre this is heading into!!! And you better believe I’m not about to look anything up

- Excited to see where this is all headed! I wonder where Hera lands in all this, since up till now I assumed she was just a perky AI that had a little sass in there, but apparently she is a lot more morally ambiguous and detached from this situation. I wonder how old she is, and how many other crews she’s worked with on missions?

- I Do Not trust doc Hilbert, he is a Science Man and cannot be trusted (although I do love his character, he’s very funny)

- I also don’t trust Eiffel, but that’s just cause he’s an idiot and I don’t think you can trust him with anything (luv u bby ur just dumb <3)

- I’m very interested to see how commander Minkowski deals with the growing paranoia she seems to be dealing with, I do love a good psychological downward spiral

- Also I haven’t forgotten that’s there’s also apparently an unseen and unknown thing on the station that Hera knows about but isn’t telling anyone about and THATS spooky

- I’ve used ‘spooky’ a lot in these notes. that may be an indicator of where this is heading, genre-wise. oh dear.

[knight-of-the-thorn]

Commander asks 12-15 ✨

Sorry this took so long turns out I had a lot of thoughts, then had to get ready to catch a plane before I could finish this. Thank you @i-mybrunettelady!

Answers under the cut

12. How does your commander feel about Braham?

Braham Eirsson, where do we begin with Braham Eirsson. I've written essays on the subject of Arceidai's feelings about Braham.

I've talked a little about this before. As I said last time I talked about Arceidai for an ask meme, they felt very alone as a result of their wyld hunt. The people who could understand what this task was like were Caithe and Trahearne, who were firstborn who had been doing this for longer than Arc could really imagine, and Theitia who hated it so much she joined a cult about it. So, they feel pressure to be as good and dignified and grown up and experienced as these people who are two decades older than them, because they think that's what's required of them. They have everything to prove.

Then they meet Braham. Braham is young and brash and he is also dealing with a lot of expectations. They both want the same thing, to not be alone. If not similar in personality, they're very similar in where they're coming at this from. Going into lws1 Arceidai was still grieving Sieran, they didn't feel like they were allowed to be anything but the commander. Braham was the first person who they let in after Sieran died. The exact moment they realised they would do anything for him was when he first called them Arc. It was a very simple thing, just the realization that he saw them as, not just an actual person, but his friend? It was enough that Arc is a nickname that they stuck with, it reminded them that they were a person, that people liked them for them and that they didn't always have to be the commander. It was a name that was theirs, given to them by someone who knew them.

And when they fought in lws3, it was so much worse than the canon fight, because Arc was at a point where they felt like they had lost everything. They had entirely given up on any pretense of presenting themself as a hero as part of their violent self destructive spiral. They were both grieving and the second he started lashing out Arceidai would have lashed out right the hell back because the alternative would be crying, and it escalated the situation. They both said a lot of things they really regretted. On Arc's end, once they calmed down there was a lot of "I just destroyed my relationship with my best friend, he hates me now, what have I done what the hell is wrong with me." That they covered up with "I don't need him, I don't need anyone, he can see what I actually am and that's fine I don't care." Spoiler they cared a lot. Braham covered up how upset he was by the whole thing a lot more thoroughly. He had something to throw himself into and when that was no longer possible it was way easier for him to stay mad at them. Arceidai felt like they lost everything, and they barely even knew who or what they were anymore. The fact that the first person who they thought saw them for who they were, after they lost Sieran and Theitia, seemed to hate them now, couldn't have helped that.

It was weird for a bit when he came back into their life, but when they finally apologized, the two of them didn't really talk about it, because niether of them are good at that, there was just a moment where they both just, let it go.

Braham is their best friend. He's brave, and hot headed, and kind, and they have gone through so much together. He's one of the few peoppe they consider family. If anything happened to Braham, Arceidai would tear apart the fabric of reality to save him and I need you to understand that is in absolutely no way shape or form hyperbole. I'm being very literal when I say that.

13. How does your commander feel about Caithe?

Boy howdy here's another loaded one!

Arc loved Caithe so much when they were sapling. In a way, before Theitia left they did kind of end up as more Trahearne's apprentice than Caithe's, but that's neither here not there, they trusted Caithe and valued her opinion. She was part of Arceidai's family and part of the reason they weren't intially scared was because they looked up to Caithe and believed that as long as they stuck together nothing could go wrong.

It took them a while to understand why Caithe did what she did, and longer to forgive her. Even when they didn't understand why Caithe did what she did, she was someone they thought they could always trust, because she was their family. They didn't understand what they had done wrong when they tried so hard to do everything right, or why she would lie to them their entire life, or anything that happened. In their mind everything was fine between them and Caithe and then it wasn't. Trahearne was dead and Arceidai was angry and they needed someone to be angry at.

But she reached out and tried to make things right. It took them a bit, and at the time they didn't really know if they'd ever be able to fully trust Caithe again, but they slowly started to understand exactly where Caithe was coming from, and they knew they wouldn't be able to give Aurene everything she needed. When she hatched Aurene very suddenly went from an egg that was just another responsibility to the absolute most important thing in their life. They didn't trust they wouldn't fuck that up, and they'd never done something like this on their own.

Ultimately, it came down that fact that they wanted to trust Caithe again. For them it was a huge leap of faith, and they're glad they took it.

14.How does your commander feel about the dragons?

Honestly Arceidai is endlessly fascinated by dragons. They could talk about dragons for days without getting sick of it. They want, with a desperate, burning passion to know everything there is to know about them, how they work, where they came from. There's, apprehension, maybe even bitterness or hatred towards them, Arceidai's had a lot of traumatic experiences with the elder dragons, but underneath everything, there's still this never ending curiosity.

Contrary to popular belief they love what they do as long as you get rid of every part of it that is not a dragon. Even after everything they've been through and every complicated feeling they have about being the Commander, they won't give up until this is over because they're stubborn and they need to know. They need to know everything. In this essay I will be exploring why Scarlet Briar is the best character to exist in anythi-

15. How has your commander changed overtime?

As a sapling Arceidai was very chipper and hopeful. They had energy, trust in the dream and the people around them, and everything to prove. It's taken a lot to get them to the half-feral, manic, twitchy disaster that they are now. The universe looked at Theitia and said I can fix her, but it looked at Arceidai and said I can make them so much worse.

They've gone from excitable and constantly asking questions, just a very kind, trusting, talkative person, who saw the best in everything and everyone, still pretty blunt but that's more a result of them lacking tact than them not caring, to a little more withdrawn and awkward after they became the commander. When they were young they very much tried to act like Trahearne and Caithe, especially after they became the Commander, so all of this was sort of hidden behind that mask of professionalism. They wanted everyone to like them, but didn't know how to do that without being a valiant, because that's really all they knew they were.

This lead to to a not short period of being incredibly bitter and angry after Trahearne died, which slowly turned into just the pepe silvia scene from it's always sunny. They're tired, but they've always been stubborn so fuck if they aren't seeing this through. They could have given up, but they have things worth fighting for. As it is, they don't trust anything, have no patience, and they've long since given up any pretenses of being professional or presentable, or even sociable. They've never been particularly good with people, they've always preferred animals, they just don't like dealing with people at all anymore, they outright hate dealing with polticians. 10% of the icebrood saga had to have been Theitia stopping them from calling Smodur and Bangar dipshits to their faces, and sure some of that you can attribute to beast mode, but not nearly enough of it. They're still excitable, but it takes more for them to show that. Its usually just when something really interests them.

If you did not know they were the same person you probably wouldn't be able to guess.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Gasoline and Matches (Original Content) Chapter Two

Author’s notes: Howdy kids, sorry that this is late too. This is the story I’ve been working on with my dear friend @tiltingplanet since like...high school. I’ll link chapter one since it was posted on my side blog

Chapter Two

Yomi was certain of it now--they were going to die.

She clung hard onto Mira as their bodies free fell, wind howling past and blood rushing in her ears.  Plummeting. Falling endlessly, all light gone and the descent definitely long enough to break every bone on impact. Of all the ways she thought it would happen, Yomi never imagined the end coming in a scenario like this. There were so many other ways, so many other possibilities far more likely in an existence like hers that would have been the winning candidates in summoning Death into the timid girl’s life . Her mind couldn’t wrap around the notion, to the harsh reality of falling into the abyss, waiting and waiting for it all to suddenly end in a crack of flesh against whatever surface they’d land on. How far down did this pit extend? Would it take hours? Days? Years? It sure felt like it, and waiting was part of the madness that she absolutely couldn’t stand.

Get it over with. Get it over with--this is the worst experience of my life.

Her only regret was that Mira had been dragged into it, the girl’s voice now hoarse from screaming as she gripped Yomi’s hand hard,  tight enough that she was losing circulation. It hardly mattered, especially with the situation they were in. Yomi didn’t have a lot of people who would bat an eye if she was gone, fact of the matter being that she went out of the way to make that the reality of her situation. Mira was different, there were so many students and people in town who knew and respected her--people who were devastated when the car accident happened, that went out of their way to make sure she got back on her feet after all the pain and struggling. It was a shame that after the hard work they all put in that this would be the way Mira was forced to go out, another accident sending her falling into a cave pit...forced to die with Yomi of all people.

The white and black-haired girl should have listened to instinct, should have said something.Once again her inability to be assertive caused problems--maybe if the girl had been more vocal about the uneasiness felt, Mira and Clarke could have stayed behind in safety? They could have gone to the boy’s house as planned, met his cute dog and spent the rest of the night actually enjoying themselves. What about the other’s? Bethany, Emma, Jack, Ann, Jake...were they hurt? Did the cave in effect them too? So many questions swirling around Yomi’s brain, one consuming another to take its place in a cacophony of sound and white noise. Only succeeding in making the reality of her situation all the more horrific, because she would never get to know what happened to the other classmates. And that was somehow more distressing over her own mortality, more than her own life.

How much worth did I have anyway?

It was that thought that finally made Yomi eyes close, body relaxing in its struggle and letting the air take her down, down into the darkness. Acceptance was the final part of the process--death was coming and there was no fighting it, not this far down. Mira seemed to have a similar idea, her form ceasing to struggle and legs hanging limply against Yomi’s own while the seconds passed on and on. At least...that what she thought they were--it was starting to feel more like minutes, brain unable to comprehend time in the fog that came with falling to an ultimate demise.

Wasn’t her life supposed to flash before her eyes? Movies and tv shows lied.

“Yomi…” Mira’s soft, hoarse voice was barely audible above the rush of air, her form trembling as that strange humming started to reach their ears again. Like bass rumbling as it rose louder and louder in frequency, ears and lungs vibrating from the sensation until it was almost uncomfortable. Unbearable, “Yomi…!”

The girl’s eyes snapped open, a gasp lodging in her throat as a blue glow started to encompass the surrounding space. It reflected refracted, scattering light on the stone walls--like the inside of a swimming pool. Water, the white and black-haired girl realized, gazing at the stone whooshing past in a sort of trance. Why was it so bright? Luminescent, shimmering like diamonds that split apart into stars, bathing every surface in an otherworldly glow. Yomi tried to twist her head around, looking for the source of light coming from below, but the rush of air only managed to sting her eyes, hair obscuring whatever view could have been reached. Did it even matter anyway? As soon as they touched whatever awaited them, death would come swift and unrelenting anyway.

At least...that’s what she thought.

There seemed to be a brief moment where everything slowed, the cave walls that were once a blur seemingly visible to Yomi’s stinging eyes. She inhaled a sharp breath, beads of bright, glowing blue water seeming to hover in the air that drifted by her face. Pearl-like, pristine and almost tranquil in what the girl assumed to be their final moments of life. The water coagulated, curling upwards faster and faster as time suddenly seemed to return, like reaching hands that curled around herself and Mira in kind. Cradling us, a loving embrace. The redhead let out a sharp gasp, seeing exactly what her companion was as water surrounded them both in a halo of blue, the rush of air gone and a low chill meeting dangling limbs. What is happening? What is happening? Yomi sucked in a lung-full of air, eyes squeezing shut as the water enveloped them both, somehow not soaking her clothes at all and bringing with it an almost serene sense of peace.

And then...they plummeted into the icy pool in a rush of sound and adrenaline.

Yomi was lucky she inhaled before it happened, the halo of water suddenly collapsing onto them like the waves of an ocean. It weighed down all their limbs, soaked to the bone and sense of direction sent spiraling out of control. The impact jostled Mira from Yomi’s grasp slightly, her canes sent floating away into this pool and lost to the girl’s reaching hands. It was cold, so cold--for a moment Yomi found herself unable to move, the tingling water surrounding her on all sides and bringing with it a dazed sensation that would not fade. It was somehow so bright, the water hold its own ethereal glow and color as she managed to peel her eyes open. This wasn’t death...was it? Her limbs still ached, palm stinging from its burn and lungs starting to scream for air. No, she was still alive, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks and snapping away the daze in an instant.

I survived, I’m alive.

Several things pinged at once in her skull, limbs twitching to life and head whipping around to look for Mira. If I survived, then--She has injured legs, can she swim? Drowning. There, floating a few feet away, Yomi spotted a familiar flash of red amongst the illuminated blue. Her legs immediately started kicking, ignoring the growing ache in her lungs as she reached for the limp body of Mira. Please be alive. Please. Desperate now, clawing upwards with one arm while her feet worked below, trying to bring herself and her limp classmate up to the surface. She refused to drown here, not after they somehow survived a fall that should have killed any normal human being. Inch by inch, foot by foot Yomi surged to the glassy top of the water, heart roaring in her ears and feeling lightheaded at a lack of oxygen before the surface shattered from her impact.

A loud gasp of breath immediately sucked into her lungs, wheezing and choking on it as she struggled to hold Mira above the water. Air, breathing, alive. Yomi coughed a bit, body shaking from head to toe as her classmate started to hack as well, groaning and breathing in and out carefully. Thank whatever gods existed above, the redhead appeared unharmed as well. The whole situation was inexplicable, absolutely outside the realm of what Yomi ever considered possible. If not for the very obvious pain ripping through her hand, she would have thought this all a very elaborate nightmare, or a very bizarre dream. The kind you have and wake up on the floor of your room after rolling off the bed.

Grasping reality proved difficult, even as she dragged Mira’s shaking form to the edge of the pool, both girls gathering their wits and breath while Yomi tasked herself with getting them out. Mira appeared stunned, almost in a state of shock which was more than understandable. What just happened was beyond comprehension, and she had been through enough the way it was. She didn’t struggle when Yomi started to tug her out of the water, both collapsing on their sides on the pool’s edge to catch their breath and decompress a bit. More stone, the ground hard and cold under Yomi’s bare shoulder. Christ, what the hell had just happened? Where were they now, and how the hell were they still alive? 

Her eyes tilted upwards, seeing nothing by darkness above and no sign of the ceiling that they fell through. There was no way a fall like that wouldn’t kill them, even while landing in water. The velocity, speed...impact would have shattered the two girls like flimsy ragdolls, snapped necks, dislocated limbs. But...Yomi stared at her palm, seeing the burn from earlier and feeling shaken to her core. After that burst of light, the burn that razed over her skin...nothing was normal anymore, nothing. 

But now they were down here. And she didn’t know how to get out.

“M...Mira…” The timid girl whispered, voice breathy and soft as she reached out to grip her classmate’s free hand, “A...are you okay…? Are you hurt?”

There was a beat of silence, broken only by ragged breathing and the sound of water gently pattering from their bodies. Yomi turned her gaze, seeing Mira slowly roll herself over to stare back with frightened, tired green eyes. 

She swallowed visibly, squeezing the hands of the salt and pepper-haired girl and managing to croak out, “I...I’m not hurt, but…” Mira slowly started sitting up, helped by Yomi as they dragged themselves a bit further away from the water’s edge. Those emerald eyes reflected the refracted light, skin pallid from stress as she whispered, “Yomi...how the fuck are we still alive?”

Christ, wasn’t that the new question of the day? She wished that there was an answer, eyes closing as more water dripped from her sopping form. Things used to be dictated by logic, common knowledge and careful thinking. It was these ideals that got Yomi this far in life, her way of survival. But none applied in the face of such oddities, leaving her feeling exposed and lost where she might have once been level. Nervousness, shyness...those were one thing. Dealing with a scrap with death and surviving against all obvious indicators of that being wrong was...another.

“I...I don’t know,” Yomi replied softly, pressing fingertips against her own temple in an attempt to stave off the building stress, “We...we need to think, need to get out of here.”

How far down did they fall? If a search party came looking for them, would this place be accessible? Knowing their small town, knowing the lack of resources and how bad the cave-in was…

There was no doubting it. They would be presumed dead.

Don’t think about it, Yomi tried to meekly tell herself, rising to her feet and helping Mira up with a firm arm around her waist. The surrounding cave was big, much bigger than anything that was seen before. Most of the ceiling above was way too high up to catch a glimpse of, and what was visible consisted of craggy stalactites that reached down in an arcing slope toward what looked to be a long passageway nearby. More of those strange symbols made swirling patterns on the walls, and on the floor too by the looks of it. Although these were a bit...odd.

Yomi reached instinctively to grab her cellphone from its usual pocket, but was disappointed to find that it wasn’t there. It was in her hands when the cave-in happened, so it was probably still resting up above or smashed to bits by rocks and stones. So much for a flashlight, or for calling 911. 

She felt Mira struggling to reach into her own phone, pulling the soaked electronic out of her shorts and wincing lightly. Thank god she still had hers at least--but by the looks of it, there was no signal to be had in such a strange location. Zero bars, zero service--both girls exchanged disappointed glances, but the phone case at least protected the device from water damage. Mira turned on its flashlight to shine it on the ground around them and at the cave walls.

These marks were definitely strange. They all curled from the same direction, reaching out like branching tendrils from a single passageway on the far wall. Almost like they had extended from that location, finally reaching the pool and forming a ring of symbols around it. Akin the ones upstairs, they were practically scorched into the cracked stone, some depicting images of creatures Yomi recognized from storybooks. The most prominent of them being the visage of a mighty dragon, concocted from swirling runes that made up its outstretched wings and powerful jaws. The other was that of… a Griffin, if she remembered mythology correctly, both curling toward from the passageway over hallowed ground.

“What is this place…?” Mira muttered, nose scrunching up a bit as she stared around the cave in a mixture of wonder and perplexion, “Maybe this is why we somehow survived...something like...I don’t know.”

“Magic?” Yomi provided quietly, eyes catching on the dragon’s image and lingered there. Something about it held her attention, like a feather-light touch on the edge of her consciousness. She could remember things from her childhood, the storybooks her father used to read at bedtime telling of amazing, enchanting fantasies. Dragons were always her favorite, always the ones she associated with him the most before he…

Don’t. The therapist talked about this, didn’t she?

Mira didn’t seem to want to say what Yomi had, only nodding despite how utterly baffling it sounded in the open air. Magic was a thing of movies, tv shows and books. Surely believing in it was a foolish thing, something utterly childish? But there was no other explanation, not when all of reality’s options had been extinguished.

“...We don’t have to think about it yet,” Yomi sighed, grunting when she hefted Mira up a bit more and started for that open passageway, “For now, we should focus on getting out of here--your phone isn’t going to stay on forever, there’s no signal down here...I don’t think anyone will look for us.”

Mira shook her head, water pattering down her brow and past her eyelashes, “My Dad would. He would never stop looking.”

Yomi paused a moment, remembering that Mira’s father was chief of police in the town. She had seen him a few times hanging out at the local cafe, getting his morning coffee with her in tow. Not to mention the few times he had stopped by the “house” to talk to her step father about his business, or about events hosted by him in town. Mira was right... her parents were not like Yomi’s, they would push to look for them no matter the cost. But...was staying in this room to wait really a good option? How many days would it take to reach a place like this, so deep into the Earth? The nervous, long-haired girl hesitated in front of the passageway, staring back at the pool of water and biting her lip. 

They could survive without food for about...what, three weeks? At least from what she could remember hearing in class, that was the only number her mind could conjure up. Barring any obstacles or future cave-ins, was sitting in this area for that long wise, or could they look forward a bit for any signs of a way out? This area was clearly touched by something other than nature, whether that was magic or not Yomi wasn’t sure. But there could be an exit, and she was willing to look for anything that could help at least.

“What should we do…?” The girl murmured, almost to herself as those hazel eyes lingered on the chasm before them stretching into darkness, “The marks are coming from this way...maybe we should go looking to see where they come from? But if people actually do come looking for us…”

Mira shrugged her shoulders, still looking a bit shaken and wincing when her weight shifted onto her legs a bit too much, “Maybe you should go on ahead yourself? I’m just dead weight at this point.”

She sounded incredibly glum with that statement, eyes staring at the tunnel with biting curiosity and a hint of aggravation. Frustrated--the redhead wanted to see what all this lead to just as much as Yomi did, maybe more. There was no way she could be left behind, not to sit alone in a cave by herself in the dark and soaking wet on top of all those things.

The salt and pepper haired female shook her head, hefting Mira up a little higher and eliciting a quiet grunt of strain, “Don’t worry, I have you Mira. And don’t...don’t call yourself dead weight, please,” She paused, tone a bit quiet as she admitted, “I can’t do this alone...I need you here.”

That made Mira blink in surprise, something akin to gratefulness flashing in those emerald eyes. She simply nodded, the arm held around Yomi’s waist squeezing a bit tighter. Understanding established, heads held a little bit higher as they stared down the tunnel with apprehension. Air was flowing from it, warmer than what was in the pool of water and its surrounding space and tinged with a hint of...something? Just like what both had smelled earlier when light had raged through the caves above. Like the air was bathed in the scent of a presence-- dark and smokey, forbidden. The only comparison Yomi could find was the sense of night time, or the unbridled foreboding that came from sitting in a dark room with absolutely no light allowed in. It encapsulated apprehension in its purest form, giving it substance.

Yomi sucked in a shuddering breath, stepping forward into the darkness and making sure to keep her footing steady. Mira lit up the path with her phone, staring forward with wariness as they left the cave pool behind. Each sound seemed overly loud in the space, bouncing off the cave walls both forward and backwards. Echoing endlessly, the sensation it brought forth crawling along Yomi’s spine like the dance of fingernails. We shouldn’t be here, her mind whispered in warnings, growing louder and louder as they continued forward, Someone will hear us. But who? Surely there would be no one down here, not so deep in the Earth? Maybe not a person, but...something else.

The thought made her shiver, which Mira felt instantly.

“Hey, you alright?” She asked in concern, turning those emerald eyes to meet Yomi’s hazel, “Maybe we should stop for a second, carrying me can’t be easy I’d imagine.”

Yomi shook her head in denial, firming the hold she had on the redhead and footsteps not slowing in the slightest, “I’m okay, I was just thinking about something is all,” Her eyes slipped down to stare at the floor, wincing when the tingle of discomfort continued its torment on her body, “Something doesn’t feel right, like we’re walking into a lion’s den with the threat of being eaten looming over our heads.”

Mira’s shudder mimicked her own, a heavy frown on her lips as she replied softly, “Yeah, I feel that too.”

There was a brief pause between them, that unspoken fear hanging in the air as they continued walking forward. Honestly, what could be said? They had experienced the threat of death once that day, twice in a lifetime now for both of them. Mira during her car accident, and Yomi…

Well. She didn’t want to think about that.

Surprisingly, Mira managed a smile, giving Yomi a light nudge with her head as she added, “When the time comes just yeet me at the lion and bolt, not a damn thing is going to wanna eat me. I’ve practically got a pharmacy swimming in my veins at all times with all the meds I take.”

Yomi cracked a light smirk, a tired one, “Then what purpose does throwing you serve?”

“Headstart. And a show of strength, intimidation tactics.”

Yomi released a snort, shaking her head at even the notion of such a thing working. She appreciated Mira’s attempts at humor to try and lighten the situation, but judging by the nervous smile the redhead wore at was all she could do to cope with the situation. Talking her way through it, covering up fear with jokes in an attempt at distancing herself from it. As always, the other half of this pair was far stronger, far more determined than Yomi was. She felt close to crumbling at any second just from the uncertainty alone, insecurities and worries eating away at the pillars of her already weakened foundation. What could she do if things went south? Absolutely useless in every regard, blaming herself for them being there in the first place.

Even if it wasn’t her fault.

Mira’re presence gave her the needed support to press on, down the long, winding tunnel as it grew warmer. Those smells, the sensations of something bad growing a bit more with each step. It was only when a sound reached their ears did Yomi halt, shock filling her entire being when it started to register that the noise wasn’t your average everyday cave ambiance. Low, grating and harsh as it echoed over the cave walls just as their conversations had earlier...those were voices.

“Are there people down h--” Mira began to hiss, but was promptly silenced by Yomi’s hand over her mouth.  They exchanged a brief glance, that brief pop of relief they felt at any sign of help being extinguished when they pressed a bit closer, trying to make out what was being said in the first place. Steps quiet, bodies pressed against the cave wall and cell phone camera light shut off as they peeked down to see an opening finally at the end of their path. Was that light in the other room? Glowing orange and violet in color, flickering back and forth over what walls they could catch a glimpse of.

The voices grew clearer this close, bouncing around the underground cavern in some sort of argument. Speaking in English, but...precise, each word fluent and punctuated like someone parroting things they once heard from someone else. It was the same way foreigners generally spoke, learning English as a second language but in a way far more particular than the slang Yomi and Mira had grown up with.

“Careful you fool--That tremor must have registered on the Richter scale somewhere above,” One of the strangers growled in irritation, footsteps following their insult toward the far end of whatever the next room was, “What were you told about drawing unnecessary attention from humans?”

What? Yomi and Mira exchanged a quick glance in the darkness, the way he spoke making both girls uneasy. Humans...implying that they were not ones?

Another voice sighed, tingled with exasperation as they replied almost dolefully, “Do you want this vault open or not? We tried everything else I can think of, brute force is simply the only other option.”

“And look how far it got you…!” Snapped the instigator of this argument, a loud crackle following soon after and punctuated by a low grunt of pain, “Even the backlash of your little attempt could be heard for miles…!”

They continued to bicker, oblivious to Yomi and Mira hovering in the tunnel and throwing insults back and forth. What on Earth were they even talking about? A vault, according to one, but what kind of vault could exist this far down? And then came the mystery of its contents...this was definitely not something that was meant to involve the two girls, not by a long shot. They were in over their head, alone in a cave system with an unidentifiable group of strange people doing strange things with the danger level far too high. Even if they had stayed in the other cave, these arguing strangers could have easily found them and done god knew what. As it stood, there was no way out backwards, and forward was a mystery all the same.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally. And there was nothing they could do.

Yomi jolted a bit when a third voice added itself to the play, low and cloying as it whispered, “So noisy,” There was a following tap of what sounded to be heels walking over the floor, that smooth purr continuing on, “The magical artifacts we are seeking will be retrieved one way or another--you both must simply decide if you want to admit failure to General Strauss.”

General Strauss? Magical artifacts? Were these people in the military by chance? 

The first voice to speak groaned, their suggestion not sounding appealing in the slightest, “I would rather pass up on dying--gateways like these are usually so easily unlocked! But this one has no riddles, no shortcuts around its charms at all that would allow us in. It is so bizarre.”

“That just means it holds something far more valuable than anticipated.” The smooth voice replied, sounding very interested in whatever this vault held inside. Heels tapped on stone, their hushed voice murmuring something in a foreign language that rolled off their tongue like water. It caused an immediate reaction, the discomfort in the air spiking enough that Yomi started to feel physically sick. But there was no time to react, to do anything of the sort before an anomaly ripped across the surrounding space. There was another hum of energy, passing through the cave walls behind Yomi’s back in a flash of heat--she bit down on a yelp, jolting off of the surface and shivering at the sudden searing pain that was left behind. 

But the motion caused them both to stumble, Mira’s phone clattering from her hand onto the cave floor too loud for comfort. Son of a bitch. Yomi froze, ragged, pained breathes leaving her lungs as all three voices paused, going deadly quiet at the sound that they made. Mira shot her companion a look of panic, eyes filled with worry and fear as she took in the new injury she bore in the bare skin of her back and shoulders. Another burn, the runic symbols seared into flesh and stinging in the most unbelievable way. But they couldn’t linger, couldn’t stay here despite how much it hurt--there was a distinct sound from the outer cave, like metal sliding from sheaths and footsteps rapidly approaching. They’re armed, we need to run.

But where can we go? The only way is back and it’s a dead end.

“Go…!” Yomi whispered in desperation, tugging Mira along and swallowing down a whimper of pain from the mark on her back. She didn’t argue or resist, doing her best the push her feet along and give as much momentum as they could. The sound of their footsteps was far too loud--the pursuing strangers definitely heard it, one letting out a rasping growl of delight as metal scraped along the cave wall in an ear-splitting screech.

“We have eavesdroppers.” It was the smooth talker, their voice now low and grating as it started drawing up closer from behind.

 Yomi’s brain scrambled, trying to think up any scenario to get them out of this situation, contemplating letting Mira crawl along on her own and using herself as a decoy--but would that really stop the three from looking for more people down there? They could easily find Mira on their own, and no other scenario would be viable. Too exposed, too stuck--Yomi couldn’t leave the girl on her own and refused to look at her as a weakness. It was the salt and pepper haired girl who caused the sound that alerted them in the first place. As always...she screwed everything up, and was dragging Mira down with her.

Running was useless, and that became very apparent within moments of trying to reach that pool again.

Another crackle rang out, that low hum filling the tunnel in a burst of heat and unpleasant sensations. If there was any doubts about magic before...all were quickly squashed under the oppressive boot of evidence that followed soon after. Their escape was halted in an instant, Mira releasing a startled yelp and collapsing to her knees, sending Yomi stumbling forward into a wall--no, not a wall. Something else, something far worse. A soundless cry of alarm left her lips, hazel eyes snapping up to see black hands manifest from the walls, glowing with violet veins as they latched onto Yomi’s bare shins, arms and neck, holding her squirming in place. What the hell are these things?! It hurts, it hurts it hurts! Yomi’s head screamed in alarm, hazel eyes locked on Mira as another hand clamped over the shout emerging from her lips.

“Yomi!” Mira cried, trying to pull herself up from the floor but quickly being pinned down by her own set of arms from the other side. They pressed her face down into the stone, face scraped slightly and leaving a painfully red trail over her left cheek. She at least had the good graces to look furious, eyes shooting back and forth as she struggled to be free, but these limbs had no give.

Yomi, however, stared in terror as three figures approached from the direction they had tried to flee, bringing a violet glow with them.

She didn’t recognize the newcomers, but that was to be expected. Varying in heights and skin tones, all three stared at the struggling girls with a mixture of surprise and dark amusement. The smooth voice they heard belonged to the one in front, there was no doubt--they met Yomi’s gaze, the white of their eyes black instead of white with glowing violet irises. Pale in comparison to the other two, with dark brown hair cropped short on the sides with a long braid extending down their back. The ones who had bickered previously glared in Mira’s direction, one dark skinned with black and grey locks and the other looking fairly similar in appearance. Siblings maybe? 

Yomi couldn’t be certain, but it scarcely mattered. Especially not when the one in heels pressed a single foot to Mira’s back, digging down hard enough to wrangle out a pained whimper from the redhead.

Stop it! Yomi wanted to scream, but the sound refused to come out with the phantom hand pressed so tightly to her lips.

“Humans? Down here?” Purred the pale stranger, eyes darting between Yomi and Mira in amusement, “So young and pretty...how did you little larks manage to get down here…?”

“Fuck you…!” Mira spat, face still pressed to the ground and eyes glaring daggers at the one holding them down.

Being aggressive was definitely not helping the situation, not by a long shot. The main aggressor raised an amused brow, lips quirking into a smirk as they knelt down and grabbed a fistful of Mira’s hair to wretch it back. I can’t do anything, I’m useless--Yomi was held helpless, prone and watching in terror and anger as Mira grit her teeth in pain. It only seem to make the braided one more gleeful, eyes glowing and inhuman in the dark.

“Feisty,” They observed, carding their other fingers through Mira’s bangs and giving a dreamy sigh, “Redheads are always such wonderful magic users, it would be a shame to waste.”

Those black and violet eyes leveled on Yomi, still suspended by those hands mere feet away with obvious fear written all over her face. Whatever idea they had, she wanted no part of it--especially not when that smirk turned into a full on grin, fingers releasing Mira’s hair only to press her skull back against the hard ground. Tapping rhythmically, in patterns of three as they contemplated whatever plan they had in mind. One, two, three. Pause. Then back again, making Mira hiss lightly in annoyance and struggle more.

But the newcomer wasn’t phased, inclining their head to the ones standing by and watching. Their following words made Yomi’s blood run cold, and Mira’s too judging by the look of sheer terror in her emerald eyes, “The only thing we haven’t tried is a sacrificial ritual--what convenient timing you ladies have, we were in need of some innocent blood.”

We’re so screwed, Yomi’s frantic thoughts whispered, wailed and screamed. She struggled more against the hands, nails digging into her palms as she shouted mentally, Let us go! LET US GO!

But the dark stranger was oblivious to her thoughts, rising from Mira’s thrashing form and ignoring the redhead’s snarls of, “You can’t just do that! You fucking psycho…!” Instead they flicked their fingers, causing the hands holding both girls to snap in attention and start pulling them forward like puppet strings. Mira dragged along the floor, Yomi held suspended like a tense ragdoll as they were brought into the room beyond. What could she do? What was she supposed to do? Outnumbered and outclassed, going up against forces beyond her comprehension. Magic, these people were using magic. Monsters? Devil worshipers? So many scenarios were playing in her head, none would stick.

They didn’t stop as she looked around the new area, heart pounding at what was clearly the vault the three wanted to get into.

The doors of it were massive, made entirely out of stone and carved with numerous runes and markings neither classmate understood. It was intimidating, eerie with how the symbols on the floor stretched out from underneath the barest of seams between the cave stone and the doors themselves. What could possibly be hidden inside of something like that, especially if those contents were worth killing them over? She didn’t get it, there was too much Yomi didn’t understand. All the girl knew was that her life hung in the balance, a third scrape with death she neither needed, nor wanted.

Third times the charm, right?

“It has been so long since I preformed a good blood ritual,” One of the dark-skinned siblings mused, eyeing Yomi with a strange mixture of mirth and anticipation, “What a shame to waste such a beauty.”

“You would lie down with a human?” The other remarked with some disgust, their expression somewhere between being annoyed and dismissive of the two girls, “Non-magic types are disgusting.”

If Yomi had a free mouth, she decided that spitting on this person would be the best course of action. But the thought didn’t have time to linger for long, not with the leader of this rag-tag group drawing the attention back of their counterparts.

Fingers snapped loudly, dropping Yomi and Mira unceremoniously on the ground feet apart from each other--the redhead was immediately grabbed by the two side lackeys, held thrashing and yelling by their unyielding hands. Much to Yomi’s dismay, she herself was deposited right in the middle of this room, a large symbol underneath her body as she struggled to rise up again. Do they intend to kill me first? My blood could easily fill the divots on this floor, running and dripping until they reached those doors--

The dark-haired monster smiled again, pressing that heel to Yomi this time to hold her down. It dug into the burns on her back, a choked scream of pain lodged in the girl’s throat like barbed wire and barely managing to scrape out.

I’m going to die.

“I so love seeing flesh marked with my magic,” The smooth talker murmured, running a hand through Yomi’s silken locks and releasing a light sigh, “Not a redhead like your friend, but I do wonder how you came about such interesting colors.” They rose up slightly, eyeing Yomi’s struggling companion with a glint of satisfaction in their eyes, “One should be enough--redheads are far too useful to waste, and humans are easy to break. Even with her damaged legs she’s still far more useful than you, little girl.”

Were they going to take Mira away then? The prospect of kidnapping somehow seemed worse, especially with what this person was implying. They would break her--either through torture or things far more despicable, she didn’t want to imagine. Yomi found the strength to struggle, thrashing under the foot holding her down and ignoring the flash of pain that razed over her back as a result.

“Dont…!” She shouted, voice echoing off the cave walls and making the stranger stare in bemused surprise, “Leave her alone, let her go…!”

“Yomi…!” Mira cried in response, only to have her mouth promptly covered by the gloved hands of one of her captors. Muffled yelling followed, the redhead struggling with every ounce of strength she possessed and making the siblings grunt in aggravation.

Yomi opened her lips again to shout, only to find those black hands gripping her again. They flipped the girl’s struggling form over, the motion cracking her head against stone and bringing dizziness within the pain. Several pinning her legs down, then her arms in turn. This position allowed those hazel eyes to meet the ones of the aggressor again, seeing no ounce of pity or regret reflected back. No...there was eagerness in those violet irises, a sadistic delight that made Yomi’s skin crawl. There would be no reasoning with people like this, not by a long shot. If there was any doubt about evil existing in her world, it was now extinguished by that look she saw alone. A darkness lived in this person, one that the human girl had never seen in her life.

And it would be the final thing she would ever see again.

One of those black hands wretched her head back again, hair fisted tight enough to make tears spring to her eyes. Rough and unyielding, tight as a vise and refusing to let go. It took Yomi a few moments to realize that it was exposing her throat, eyes locked on the door behind her as the familiar slide of metal against metal was heard in the air. A knife? Dagger? Sword? They’re going to slit my throat, and leave me to bleed out onto the ground. She didn’t want to die, she didn’t want to go out this way. On a filthy cave floor, with no one to care and no people left behind that would miss her. Not like this, not after I just survived the fall.

Help us. Somebody help us.

“Your blood will make a fine sacrifice to this vault,” Purred the stranger, pressing the tip of their knife to Yomi’s pale, smooth throat, “And if that fails...well. At least we have a newcomer to bring back to play with.”

I don’t want to die.

Yomi stared with wide, unblinking eyes at the door, mind screaming with every ounce of strength it had while a loud, throbbing roar filled her ears. Panic, adrenaline, fear...Mira’s muffled cries were drowned out by this sensation, the stinging of her back and hand fading under the intense pounding in her chest. Someone save me, please. Every name of every god she knew bounced around her skull, calling out for a savior that wouldn’t come. This was not how she would end, not at the hands of people like this. The fear was white hot and balmy, choking and stifling. It raced through Yomi’s veins like fire, filled to the brim as tears slid down from hazel eyes. Once again, there were no flashbacks of her life, no reliving the memories that once plagued her existence for so god damn long.

And maybe that was for the best.

I don’t want to die.

Please.

Somebody--Anybody.

The stranger wielding the dagger reared back, hissing out something in a language Yomi didn’t understand. Another low hum of energy burned underneath her skin, the responding scream of pain muffled by those black hands. No more room to struggle, hopes dashed across the stones. In the end, her death would come in the dark, blood left to pool in the symbols and runes as an offering to something she would never understand.

And in that moment, she decided that she never wanted to.

Save us.

That flash of silver started to head for her throat, glinting the violet light of the monster’s glowing eyes as they went to deal the killing blow. Mira released a muffled scream of denial, the sound of her desperately trying to get away from the rough hands holding her back barely audibly above Yomi’s own heartbeat. But before the dagger could reach its mark, before it could rip into the waiting arteries in her throat and spill even a drop of blood...Something began to happen.

A loud crack of sound rang out in the cave. 

Tremors made the attacker stumble, a grunt of shock leaving their lips as Yomi watched the doors behind her glow with two different colors of energy. A light, icy blue and shining gold--a sense of strange calm battled with the dark energy in the air, washing it away like a cool breeze of a fall day. It traveled along the markings lining its stone surface in a flash of light, weaving along the floor and walls just as the other bursts had. Only this time it didn’t cause a raze of agony on Yomi’s flesh--it instead caused all three of the captors to fly back, dull shrieks ringing out as them tumbled feet away in a flash of stinging steam. Something about this new energy hurt them, the one holding the dagger dropping it like they had been tased and writhing in agony. What is going on? They didn’t spill my blood, didn’t cut me at all--

So how did their ritual work?

Mira collapsed on the ground where they dropped her, eyes wide and staring at Yomi as the doors started to creep open, loud and groaning after god knew how long they spent close. A cloud of dust rolled up from the ground--but it wasn’t dust at all, Yomi realized, feeling a wet heat roll over her exposed skin. It was steam, smoke--moist air billowed out of the inky blackness in clouds, obscuring the doorway in mist as the aggressors scrambled to their feet, recovering from what happened and no longer filled with glee. No...that was fear in their eyes now, deep rooted shock and disbelief as the doors finally settled into an open position, a charged heat in the air making each breath heavy.

Silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, a low bass hum similar to that of the other magic filling the air. But this felt less oppressive, at least to the girls experiencing it. The ones who tried to kill her took a couple steps back in alarm, weapons raised and violet orbs of magic floating around the braided one in some sort of protective circle as they hissed something in that foreign language.

It sounded like they were cursing.

Yomi was panting and wheezing as she tried to pull herself up from the floor, realizing belatedly that the energy had knocked out whatever was causing the dark hands to hold her down. The one who meant to kill her didn’t even spare the injured human a passing glance, violet eyes wide and furious as they stared beyond her at the doorway. Mira was staring at the doors now as well, legs tucked underneath her in an uncomfortable position, but she paid it no mind.

What was going on? What was happening?

Yomi turned weakly, heart pounding painfully in her chest as she rolled over to look into the darkness as well. Every movement brought the sting of agony in her back, tears still rolling down her cheeks as she sought to see through the billowing mist in the doorway. Eyes wide and staring, the silence in the room only broken by a heavy thud that approached mere feet away from her prone form. Something was coming closer, and she was too rooted with shock and fear to move away.

The smoke and steam curled into clouds, reaching up toward the craggy ceiling as something started to emerge from the dark, illuminated only by torches left burning on the walls and the low glow of magic still lingering on the floor. The attackers behind the human girls readied their weapons, low hisses of shock and disgust ringing out as they spotted what it was much faster and easier than the oblivious humans. But their eyes soon adjusted to the dark, the white and black-haired girl staring in mute shock at the image that awaited her. Honestly, what could she have expected to emerge from the tomb?

Not this.

Never this.

Yomi’s breath hitched in her throat, everything in the room fading to white noise as she met the gaze mere feet from her face.

Icy blue eyes stared back from silver scales, teeth bared on a snout that was almost canine in appearance. But far larger, far more intimidating with the sharp scales and twin sets of horns curling back from its head. The pupils of its eyes were thin slits, animalistic and filled with emotions she didn’t understand, breath hot as it growled out from its mighty maw. Yomi couldn’t comprehend what it was for a moment, mind blanking in shock and confusion as it took another thudding step forward, claws scraping on stone and a huge, arching body curling out from the smoke. Wings unfurled from its spiked back, reaching up toward the top of the doorway and brushing against the craggy rocks that hung down, knocking a few loose. She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t move. Transfixed by fear, by so many emotions running through her skull. Even as the creature came closer, its snout practically inches from her face. Close enough that its hot breath sent her hair back a bit.

But shockingly enough, amidst all of that fear and shock...was absolute awe.

The creature didn’t back down from her gaze, a second, transparent inner vertical eyelid sliding over the icy blue pupil staring at her own. And it was in that moment, clarity hit Yomi like a freight train, sending her heart into overdrive as the creature finally came to a halt. Its long whiskers twitched at her, snout sniffing the air and releasing a cloud of steam that traveled through her lungs and over the already stinging skin on her back.

It was those whiskers that finally tipped her off. Because she had seen if before, on the Chinese dragons that were depicted in storybooks and movies. Long and elegant, with silvery fur underneath that scaly chin and lining its chest all the way down to where it disappeared between those front legs. Only this creature was far bigger, like a nice mix between the tradition dragons in storybooks and ones of Chinese myth.

That is when it finally clicked in place, the words slipping out from her lips in a barely there whisper that was lost to the growling of the creature’s lungs.

“Dragon.”

Chapter One

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[borrowedfeathers]

2,4,8,9,11,13,14

(these numbers come from this ask prompt, sorry it’s a few days late by now)

2. Newton’s first. I certainly will stay at rest indefinitely unless a force acts upon me. Usually this comes in the form of my cat walking on me incessantly, demanding to be fed — I’ve never successfully slept through that.

4. Not especially since I’m an atheist. But then I would be faced with the horrible dilemma — that is, if this information was imparted onto me alone as opposed to being given to the entire world at once — of whether to keep the knowledge to myself forever but buckle under the weight of most other people believing otherwise and potentially undertaking futile and harmful endeavors in the process, or to tell people and gain a permanent reputation as a nihilist edgelord at best or be immediately targeted with death threats and have to go into hiding indefinitely at worst. It just seems like a wholly unpleasant situation from all angles. I don’t know if I could live with it tbh, I might preemptively become a hermit.

8. Since I’ve already established that I’m an atheist, what I might be willing to call sacred probably differs greatly from most people’s definitions. What could potentially fall under that category for me are things that for me have a pure essence of joy and solace — the sensation of Sid (or any cat, but my own in this case) curled up against me and purring, the taste of beloved favorite foods, the electricity of being moved to stim by a special interest, an unexpected compliment from a friend. Obviously these are things that are highly subjective, and I do think in general that however one defines “sacred,” it’s inherently personal rather than universal.

9. God, YES. Largely because my dreams can be amplifiers for my anxiety in the waking world, and on several occasions my OCD has successfully predicted the future — most notably in the cases of my getting diagnosed with cancer and Trump getting elected. It’s enough to make me wonder if in the distant past if people with what we now call OCD were seen as witches or prophets of doom.

11. Nah, I don’t really think it’s a thing. Not that I believe in Locke’s idea of the tabula rasa or something like that — humans do have gut feelings and instincts — but that notion has been used so often for evil that I can’t think that there is some default setting for humanity in good faith, especially with all the cultural imperialism that attitude implies.

13. Honestly I’d be relieved, because in all likelihood the “real world” outside of it would probably be a damn sight better than the one we’ve got here! (I never said I didn’t have solipsistic tendencies at times...)

14. Boy howdy, INFINITE REGRESSIONS. Anything with a bunch of smaller copies of itself within it spiraling out into infinity, with fractal drawings being perhaps the most notorious for freaking me out. For as long as I can remember, definitely since I was a small child, they’ve just filled me with a profound sense of existential dread, since looking at one gives me an immediate reflex to cringe and cover my eyes since otherwise I feel like I’m falling into a bottomless pit and my soul (metaphorically speaking, perhaps a better way of describing it would be “sense of human comfort and knowledge that I Exist”) is being sucked out through my eyeballs. I think things that are beyond the scope of human comprehension terrify me in general, like Unfathomably Huge Things or Unfathomably Tiny Things. As much horror as I deal with in my own knowledge field as a sociologist, I can at least take comfort in that it deals with matters on a scale that I can grasp, as with this kind of fear I think working in pretty much any STEM field would force me to confront the kinds of things that would make me dissociated or depersonalized on a regular basis.

(or maybe, on the other hand, it could give me superhuman powers of matter manipulation. I might just be watching too much Fullmetal Alchemist lately, but hey, you never know.)

[garyofrivia]

For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC

Chapter 1

(masterlist in bio - find more chapters there!)

Summary: In the days before the Blackwater Massacre, everything was simpler. Life has never been about the delicacies of luxury for the Van der Linde gang. It’s about surviving. Annie Bolton is no stranger to survival. With a natural talent for robbing, killing, and con-artistry, she fit in perfectly when she fell in with Dutch and company 6 years ago. But with time, more than what meets the eye is revealed. Not everyone is who they say they are and everything is always more than it seems. What is uncovered from beneath the guise of freedom and liberty is a world full of chaos, death, and deceit. For Arthur, John, Dutch, and Annie, the struggle for power is coming to an end and the time to make important decisions closes in, quicker than any of them could prepare for. (Takes place just before RDR2 and then continues into the game's events - Arthur will get his happy ending if it's the last thing I do goddamn it)

A/N: soo this is my first chaptered RDR fic, heck! feel free to let me know what ya think, stay tuned for updates, she’s gonna be a long one, kids. 

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Angst

(WC: 4,312)

The plains of West Elizabeth were just as they had always been. Dry, hot, barren, practically a desert. For miles, all you could see was grassland that seemingly swallowed the horizon. It gave the illusion of being flat, though jagged rocks stuck out of the earth like fangs. Steep hills and ridges disrupted the terrain and painted the picture of a wasteland, though it was quite the contrary. The wildlife that thrived there endured the elements as they came. When it rained, it poured. At night, the temperatures reached near freezing, a stark contrast to the scorching midday sun with rays that seemed to make its way through every cloud break in the sky. Even in early spring, it was unbearable. With the heat beating down on her shoulders, the hunter on the road finally gave into the temptation of shedding her jacket and slung it over her horse’s back behind the saddle. She was a tall, fair woman, with strong shoulders atop her lean frame and wide hips. Her long, deep brown hair was tied off her sweaty neck and tied into a braid down her back, and even without the jacket she felt as if she was baking alive in the dry heat. She wiped the sweat from her brow and grimaced. She truly did not miss the this climate.

Annie Bolton had gone out alone on a hunting trip for a few days to the northwestern part of West Elizabeth. She told herself that it was a way to get away from camp and seemingly everyone’s watchful eyes for a while and to scout the perimeter of the territory as she tracked herds of pronghorn. The trip had been relatively unsuccessful, and while she collected about a half-dozen jackrabbit pelts, the bigger game in the area had seemed to have disappeared. She was trekking back to camp on foot, leading her stallion, Nero, around snake holes and loose rocks. Her bowstring was rubbing her collarbone raw, but she didn’t care. The frustration of the hunt had sent her spiraling into a whirlwind of thought. The Van der Linde gang had retreated east to escape the long arm of the law in multiple. Dutch had thought it best, since that’s really the only direction they could go without running out of land. Civilization did not sit well with the gang; or rather, the gang didn’t sit well with civilization. While the area around Blackwater wasn’t as populated or industrialized as other places out east, it was still… different. On the other hand, cities and towns offered profitable more opportunities than the open frontier. Annie and Hosea made a killing in the towns. They were a good team when they worked together, especially considering he taught her everything she knows about running a scheme. She was a natural at it, sweet talking any unsuspecting businessman at a saloon she could to draw their attention and give them the rundown, but she preferred to remain in the background and watch from afar. The more information she could gather about her surroundings, the better. She never let anyone go into a job unprepared for a situation that could take a wrong turn. Almost every stagecoach hit, heist, homestead run, or bank robbery that she had taken point on had been a success. Even though she’d been running with the Dutch for less than a quarter of the time his right hand, Arthur Morgan, had been, she’d quickly risen to the top of the food chain under Hosea’s wing. She proved herself to be a valuable member of the team many times over. Although to her, nothing ever seemed to be enough. It’s not that Dutch didn’t like her. He called her his daughter and he trusted her with big jobs as much as he did Arthur or Hosea. But he was… off, as of late. He’d sometimes pull Hosea aside and they’d speak quietly about something in his tent and usually, the conversations turned into heated arguments. She never caught a full conversation, but for more reasons than one, she knew a lot of them had to have been about her. Annie was a loner, even within the gang. After 6 years with them, she still felt the need to keep to herself. This didn’t seem to sit well with Dutch. She’d never cross anyone, not even in her wildest dreams. She would, and had, put herself in any kind of danger to protect them, just as they would each other. Every time it came up with Arthur, which was rarely a conversation either of them enjoyed having, he assured her that her that Dutch loved her like his own. She never believed him, so she’d taken it upon herself to prove her worth. And that she did. But, the less than successful hunting trip had caused her to miss out on a caravan robbery near Blackwater and had barely any game to show for it. She and and her horse both felt defeated as they trudged on through the thick undergrowth and uneven ground. What at first seemed to be a gust of wind in the brush, she soon realized was a voice from over a small ridge to her left. She immediately halted in her tracks and whipped out the binoculars from her saddlebag. She crouched down and approached carefully. Two men came into view and she could just barely make out what they were saying. “I jus’ don’t think it’s a good idea,” the man standing next to a tree said loudly. He spoke in an Irish accent that sent shivers down Annie’s spine. It can’t be… “It don’t matter what you think, dumbass.”  “That much is clear.” “Boss says it’s the best thing we can do right now. So we’ll wait up for Thomas and Connelly and the rest of their lot and just do what we’re told.” She peered through her binoculars and caught a glimpse of their faces and notorious blue coats, recognizing them instantly. O’Driscolls. Damn it. It somehow wasn’t a surprise, though it was a bit puzzling. What are they doing this far south? As if on cue, band of five men rode into view and towards the small encampment. “Howdy, Collins. O’Shea,” the man on the first horse greeted them. “Connelly is brining the rest of the boys right behind us. The pair of you ready to go catch us some Van der Lindes?”  Shit. “Sure, their hit’s supposed to be just north of here. We scouted the area.”  SHIT. Without wasting any time, she took off back to Nero and spurred him into a gallop towards camp. Panic was hitching in her chest. It’d only be a few weeks since they’d been camped near Blackwater and the O’Driscolls shouldn’t have been able to find them so quickly. And the chances of them catching wind of the caravan job were slim to none. Something was wrong. The sight of Charles standing guard just outside camp alarmed her for some reason. She figured he’d be on with the job, but they must have been shorthanded for guard duty. “Annie-,” he started to say something, but she sped past him and right into the heart of camp. “Dutch!” she called. The Count and Boudicca were hitched next to each other near Strauss’s wagon. “Dutch!” “Annie, why on Earth are you yellin’?” Dutch brushed passed the flap of his tent with Arthur on his heels. “It’s the O’Driscolls. They’re headin’ to the caravan. I don’t know what they’re plannin’, but it can’t be good.” “Shit. Where are they?” “East, down the river a ways. Arthur, let’s go.” Arthur groaned and jogged towards his horse. “Jesus.” “I need to come with you,” Dutch said, starting for The Count. “No, they’ll be gunnin’ for you,” Annie said. “And we need people here to protect camp in case they find it, and by the looks of it it’s only you, the Callander boys, and Charles.” “Were you followed?” Dutch says, narrowing his eyes. “No, of course not! We don’t have time for this,” she said a bit too harshly. Dutch opened his mouth to snap at her but Arthur cut him off. “She’s right, Dutch. Who knows how they found us, they might have more men than just the ones she saw.” “Fine,” Dutch said, nodding reluctantly. “Go on, then.” She took off again at full speed with Arthur at her side. He pulled slightly ahead, leading the way to the hit location. “Why aren’t you on the job, Arthur?” she said. “Who’s takin’ the lead?” “John is,” he replied, monotone. “Dutch wanted a few errands taken care of. Had to tend to that first with Bill, I was gonna catch up later.” “Didn’t seem like it. Since when are you an errand boy and John gets to run point?” “Since today, apparently. Since you wanna ask me all these questions, where the hell have you been?” “Hunting.” “Did you toss all the game back after reelin’ ‘em in? Or did they just get up to put their pelts back on and walk home?” “Shut up. I went ‘cause I thought there would be plenty of guns for this job. Not my fault the fields are dry as hell.” “I told you, I was gonna go!” “Either way, it’s done with now. All that scouting for nothin’. Damn it.” “Well…” She glanced over to him and saw the familiar, sly gleam in his eyes. “What?” “We could cut these boys off. Save the job from goin’ sour. Lord knows we need the money.” Annie paused to think and slowed Nero to a canter, Arthur following suit. “What if they have more men, like you said?” He shrugged. “What’s that magical gut of yours tellin’ you?” “We could… split up?” “Neither of us are that good with a pistol to take on that many O’Driscoll boys alone. I appreciate the sentiment, though.” “Well, I could ride up on that ridge with my rifle just before where the hit’s gonna go down. Pick ‘em off as they come in, with you on the ground to round up the stragglers.” “Now, there’s an idea,” he said, satisfied. “You wanted a hunt, didn’t ya?” Annie smirked and kicked Nero to a gallop again, leaving Arthur to make his way to the rest of the gang. It was about a five minute ride by the time she got to the ridge. She pulled her worn, black bandana over her nose and mouth and dismounted. With a quick survey of the area, she pulled the sniper rifle from her saddle and began aiming to adjust the scope, finding the gang in her sights, just around the bend that would hide them from the oncoming caravan. Arthur tipped his hat when he saw her wave from the ridge and returned to arguing with John. No sign of the O’Driscolls or the stage coaches yet. Annie sighed with relief. They’d gotten there with time to spare. She kept an eye on the gang. John had brought Sean, Micah, Javier, and Lenny. “Idiot,” she mumbled to herself. It wasn’t nearly enough men for a robbery like this in broad daylight. He and Arthur both looked heated, which was nothing new. A few years before, John had run off for a while, longer than he should have according to Arthur. They’d been at each other’s throats since he got back. Annie saw Arthur point to her and across the fields, probably telling the rest of them what the plan was. As he ran off to get in position, she turned her attention to the east. It wasn’t long before the onslaught of O’Driscolls came riding across the plains. Annie quickly counted ten of them in total. This wasn’t going to be easy. She took in a deep breath and lined up her first shot, firing with a steady exhale. One down. The man’s head bobbled, his body immediately going limp and falling sideways off his horse. The piercing sound of the sniper rifle took the rest of them by surprise, but they kept formation, not knowing where the fire was coming from. She pulled the trigger twice more, dropping another two men. Seven more to go. They scattered with the third shot and Arthur instantly took off towards the four riders going south, while Annie focused her fire on the three fleeing north. From her peripherals, she saw the gang fall into motion as the first stagecoach entered the valley, John at the head. She was surprised they hadn’t stopped and turned around the wagons at the first sounds of gunfire. City folk had once again proven themselves to be notoriously naive. One of the O’Driscoll boys ran right past the disoriented escorts, but Annie splattered his brains on the road right next to them. She didn’t miss a shot, even from this distance with moving targets. Though Arthur and the rest of the boys would never admit it, she was the best sharpshooter in the gang. If there was one thing she was sure of about herself, it was her steady aim. She picked off the last O’Driscoll in her sights and turned her attention back to the heist. The three moronic escorts were off to the side in front of Micah on their knees, clear of the robbery. Three coaches full of rich travelers and precious cargo meant a huge haul for them. This was the biggest job they’d done in a few months and she prayed nothing more would get in the way as she packed her gun onto her saddle and began to mount up to help Arthur. “Long time no see, Bolton’.” She froze. The eerily familiar voice came from behind her. A revolver hammer locked into place and a chill ran down her neck when she felt the barrel turn its aim on her. “Gregory,” she said, glancing over her shoulder and raising her hands. “What brings you boys to these parts?” “Just on the trail of some vermin. Looks like I caught myself some. Why don’t you come on home with me?” “Why? You miss me?” “I sure as hell don’t. Colm do, though. I’m just doin’ his biddin’,” he scoffed Anger rose up within her at the mention of Colm. He’d taken her in when she was a child, but not in the way Dutch did with orphans who need a home. He was more like her owner, making her dress up for jobs to use her as bait, training her to kill, steal, and fight. If she did do it the way he said, she earned herself a beating, if he was feeling kind. She eventually was able to get out when she was about 13. They’d had a few run-ins since, but she always somehow managed to escape. But it came close once. Too close. About a year ago, she was laying in her bed, mending the gunshot wound that should have killed her. The bullet somehow left all vital organs undamaged, missing her left lung by just under an inch. It still gave her a run for her money when it got infected after being stranded out in the elements for a day or two. Hosea found her facedown in the mud, 40 yards from camp. She didn’t remember how, but she walked and dragged herself the whole way from town, nearly six miles away. How she didn’t bleed out was beyond anyone. By some unruly stroke of luck, surely. She slowly turned to face the man she once knew as Joseph Gregory. His left shoulder was shot, likely in the collarbone from the way his arm was limp at his side. He must have been one to get away from Arthur. Now that he had her cornered once and for all, the manic grin across his face was hauntingly overjoyed. “You boys been followin’ us, then?” “‘Course we have,” he said. He’d lost a lot of blood, but he seemed more angry than concerned. “There’s a price on your head in two different states. Figure it’s easy money.” “Well, seems like nothin’s changed with you. You can’t take me in to the law if Colm wants me. Where’s your loyalty lie, Joey? With Colm or with the money?” Gregory smiled. “Colm says he’ll let me have you after he’s done with what he needs to do witcha. I’m gonna call the bounty money a bonus.” “We both know that’s a damn lie.” “It ain’t!” “So you intendin’ to take me alive, then?” “So long as you cooperate. I’ll shoot them pretty little legs right off ya if you don’t. He only needs a part of you still breathin’.” “C’mon now, you don’t think I’ll willingly get on that nasty ole nag of yours, hands tied with no way of defendin’ myself, do you?” His smile faded. “I don’t see how you’re in any position to be makin’ demands, bitch.” “Go on, then,” she taunted, dropping her hands to her side. “Shoot my ‘pretty little legs’ off.” He frowned and cinched his eyebrows together in frustration. It was a thin line she was treading, but she knew Colm O’Driscoll. He wanted her for himself. And Gregory was afraid of Colm more than he hated Annie. “You can ride your own horse,” he mumbled, reluctantly. “But I gotta tie your hands to my saddle.” She smirked and held her hands out. “See? That seems reasonable.” He holstered his gun and started to restrain her. Annie smiled when she saw the rider in the black hat pop up over the hill, just behind Gregory. Arthur pressed a finger to his lips and crept towards them, revolver in hand. When he was in position he nodded and Annie made her move. “Achoo!” she sneezed right into Gregory’s face, stunning him for half a second. It was enough time for Arthur to jump into action and pressed the gun right into the O’Driscoll’s spinal cord. Annie rubbed her nose, mockingly. “Sorry, must be all the dust.” “You goddamn bitch! I’ll gut you for this!” “Hey now, didn’t your mama ever teach you how to talk to a lady?” Arthur said. He grabbed Gregory by his arm and forced him to the ground, face down. “That ain’t no lady,” Gregory snarled. “That’s a damned she-devil.” Annie chuckled as Arthur smashed the butt of his gun into the man’s head, making him yelp like a dog. “Nah, he’s right, Arthur. I ain’t no lady. I’m so, so much worse.” She approached him and knelt so that he could see her face clearly. “Now, if you survive this, you tell Colm we’re far too smart for him. We’ll always see him comin’. We’ll always be one step ahead. Always.” She nodded to Arthur and he hogtied him without struggle. “C’mere,” he said, slinging Gregory onto his shoulder and walking him down the hill to the his horse. He threw him on the back and secured him to his own saddle. “Have a good trip, now. Make sure you take a left at the crossroads.” With that, Annie slapped the man’s horse and they took off into the distance. “You shoulda shot him,” she said. “I didn’t wanna miss and accidentally hit you.” “All the same.” “You okay?” She shuffled her feet and adjusted the brim of her hat. “Yeah, no reason why I shouldn’t be.” “Well, you were just starin’ down the barrel of that bastard’s gun.” “Nothin’ new. Concern’s not a good look for you, Arthur.” “Sure. How many you get?” “In all? Six.” “How many shots?” Annie grinned deviously. “Do I really need to answer that?” “No,” Arthur laughed and shook his head. “You sure don’t” Annie’s smile faded and she sighed. “They’re trackin’ us. Bastard said so himself. They’re… uh, tryin’a get to me.” “Shit. I knew Colm to be vengeful, but not like this. What did you even do to the man, again?” “I left him, joined up with his sworn enemy, and started killin’ his men. I reckon that’d make him pretty mad.” “This ain’t mad. This is crazy.” “There a difference?” Before he could respond they saw John ride up to them from around the side of the hill, followed closely by the rest of the gang on the job. “Thanks for havin’ our back, you two,” John said, nodding to the pair of them. Javier tossed them both a single stack of bills. “Here’s your cut. We should be gettin’ outta here.” “Right, Arthur and Annie, always there to save the goddamn day.” Micah said, a bit too loudly. “We didn’t run it, why do we get a cut?” Annie asked, ignoring Micah’s jab. “There wouldn’t have been a bloody job if it weren’t for you two bastards,” Sean chimed in. “Why are you arguin’? Let’s get a move on!” “I ain’t arguin’,” Arthur said, shrugging. He whistled for his horse and Annie did the same. “Let’s go, law’ll be here any minute on account of all the gunfire. Separate ways everyone. Stay outta sight and outta trouble.” Annie mounted her horse and turned to ride off with the rest of them when she noticed Arthur hanging back, taking in the view of the scattered O’Driscoll corpses from the ridge. She rode up to him and noticed a puzzled look on his face. “What is it?” “Oh, uhh… I was just… wonderin’ about how they heard about the heist. Kinda suspicious, don’t ya think?” Annie sighed. “We can figure all that out at camp. There’s nothin’ here that’ll help.” “Maybe there’s -.” “Arthur,” she said, cutting him off. “What is it?” He sighed, hesitating. “It’s Dutch. He’s concerned for… well, us. You and I.” “Why’s that?” “A while back he told me that Colm’s apparently been hearin’ the message that you’re close with me. Dutch says he’ll try to use me to get to you. Now I don’t rightly worry about myself in that regard. But the way Colm’s been gunnin’ for you… It’s unsettling.” Annie shifted in her saddle, a bit unnerved. “Why’s any of this on Dutch’s mind?” “Don’t be like that, Annie, he’s only lookin’ out for the gang.” “Just seems he shoulda come to me about it, seein’ as it’s my responsibility.” “It’s just as much mine as it is yours.” “Is it? You don’t know what Colm’s capable of, I can guarantee you that much.” Arthur narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think I know what he’s done?” “No,” she said, plainly. “I don’t. The next time you or Dutch have a conversation about who will be dyin’ ‘cause of me, I’d like to be there for it.” “We weren’t talkin’ about-.” “About what? Throwin’ me out?” “Jesus, no! Of course not, Dutch’d never do that to one of his own.” “Really?” she scoffed. “I was an O’Driscoll once, you think he’s forgotten about that?” “He ain’t Colm. You were a kid, same as all of us when we fell into this life. Dutch knows that, he knows your story, how it went for you. It’s bad business.” “He ain’t know the half of it. Neither do you.” “Tell me then,” he challenged, raising his hands in exasperation. “If you’re so hellbent on us knowin’ the whole story.” “I ain’t,” Annie snapped. “Look. I know what Colm’ll do once he’s got his sights set on someone. He’ll use anyone he can, anyone you’re close to.” “Is that what we are then, Arthur? ‘Close’?” He paused, taken aback by the question. “Well, I don’t know, are we?” Annie shook her head and sighed loudly. She felt a confusing mix of anger and sadness swirling in her stomach. If the two of them had anything in common, it was their temper. “Arthur, you gotta understand, if anything happened to you… or the rest of the gang for that matter... because of me, I’d never forgive myself. I was a fool for hopin’ it’d be different. After everything I’ve done…” Arthur didn’t seem like he knew how to respond. He just looked at her with longing eyes, begging her to not finish building the wall she’d been putting up between them for as long as he’s known her. The silence grew more and more tense between them. But she realized she knew what she had to do. “I’ll talk to Dutch and Hosea,” she continued, her voice suddenly weak. ���I’ll do a few more jobs with you all, help you out some while I make what I need to be on my way.” Arthur shook his head in denial. “No, Annie. That ain’t gonna go over well.” “Damn what Dutch says then. I won’t do that to everyone. We have our differences he and I, but you all are fine people. Hosea will-.” “No, not with Dutch. Not with Hosea. With me, with John and Charles, Lenny, and Tilly and the rest of everyone-.” “I just-.” “Shut up for once, will ya?” he snapped at her. Her breath hitch on the lump forming in her throat and she suddenly couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. “Annie, we’re family now, ain’t we? We’ll protect you. I will. I won’t… I can’t do none of this without you. None of us can, we need you.” “We should go, Arthur,” she said, her voice cracking. The feeling of dread sank in her stomach like a rock. She lowered her head so her hat hid her face, fearful of what her expression might reveal. “Please, can I see you at camp? Can we talk about this?” “Since when are you one for talkin’?” She cleared her throat and hesitated. “I’ll meet you back there.” With that, she took off towards Blackwater, mustering all her strength to hold herself together. She knew it wouldn't last very long.

[zephyrthejester]

Whoa now.

Lelouch deflected C.C.’s offer to bring Mao out of hiding by using herself as bait, and instead asked more questions.

As it turns out, Geass powers grow more powerful in strength the more they’re used. The more powerful the Geass is, the more taxing on the user. Until their minds get ravaged and consumed by it and they’re driven to madness.

Ah... Yes. That, err. That explains Mao’s situation, then. Dude’s power is always flipping on.

I think Lelouch is right to be angry here. This is information he really, really should have known up front.

However, I don’t see how his Geass could possibly grow in power. It was, from the get-go, absolute power. It’s not like there’s a time limit that’s broadening-- the girl who marks the wall every day has marked weeks worth of tallies. Perhaps... He could develop the ability to use Geass on someone more than once. Perhaps.

Gods, you don’t think Lelouch’s sacrifice of the JLF at the harbor was a sign of incoming madness, do you?

Boy howdy.

Lelouch doesn’t like a single thing about this. Less the fact that he didn’t know any of this until now, and more about what C.C. freaking did to Mao. When Mao became unable to fulfill his end of the contract, C.C. merely cut him loose and left him. Left him to rot and spiral into madness. Didn’t even take his life to spare him that...

And because she didn’t, now Shirley had to suffer.

And right now, there’s no telling if C.C would do the same thing to Lelouch, should it come to it.

I’m with Lelouch here... That really was a crummy thing to do, C.C.

[youcallthisautopia]

34, 37

Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?

All of the above, and how. Lucas doesn’t really look like much, but he’s full of fire.

The worst part is finding an outlet. With your nemesis and the object of your hatred gone, but the lingering proof still there... what do you do with all the spare resentment? Because boy howdy there sure is a lot packed into that little body. He’s up to his eyeballs in it.

How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

Ever in the past. He drowns in it.

It’ll be a tricky situation as far as isola goes: His memories of that one other city are hazy—a flickering past that’s not really all there, piecemeal glimpses of things divorced from context that somehow put distance between the end of Nowhere Island and the beginning of Spirale.

He may end up lost in imagination simply because reality is too confusing.

[mittensmorgul]

1/2 - I think I missed something, could you help me? I’ve seen a lot of discussion about how Dean was more contented and positive in this episode and people attributing this to Cas being back. I’ve forgotten where Dean and Sam think Cas is right now. Some episodes ago, they believed they were talking to him on the phone but of course we know it’s Asmodeus. No mention of Cas since, right?

2/2 - Could this be a sign of growth for Dean that he trusts Cas is fine and is not worrying about his absence? Or does it seem a bit out of character that he’s not wanting to see Cas in person or talk more on the phone especially after all he’s been through after Cas’ death? Or maybe he’s just happy believing Cas is out there somewhere in the world, presumably safe? I guess I’m confused why Dean hasn’t really mentioned Cas lately.

Hi hi! Yeah, there’s been a lot of speculation over this, after Dean was instantly rattled by Cas’s out of character phone call that had him tracing Cas’s GPS signal and showing up at the bar (presumably within MINUTES of Asmodeus and his goons showing up and capturing Lucifer and Cas-- the light on the bar’s sign flickered out as the Impala pulled up outside). After the fight with Asmodeus’s demons, and after Ketch is unmasked (and then makes good his escape), Dean has this call with who he believes is Cas:

ASMODEUS (impersonating Cas): Hello, Dean.DEAN: Cas? Hey. Are you okay? We– we– we tried to track you down, but you were gone. We ran into a bunch of demons. What's– what's happening?ASMODEUS: I'm sorry. I'm fine. I tried to call and warn you, but couldn't get a signal.DEAN: Okay, well, what's going on?ASMODEUS: I'm following a very interesting lead. I'll fill you in when I know more. See you soon, Dean.

“Cas” doesn’t give him any more info on what this “interesting lead” is, but as Dean said to Doug in 13.11, if you care about someone, you have to trust them. And boy howdy, I think he’s having a hard time enforcing that in himself, the longer he hasn’t seen Cas.

Going by the estimated timeline of events of s13 so far, adding on two days for the events of 13.10, and less than two weeks between the events of 13.10 and 13.11 (based on Doug’s comment to Dean about Donna’s “family reunion” in Sioux Falls having been “a few weeks ago,” probably extrapolating backward to when Donna LEFT for Sioux Falls, so including of the events of 13.10 in that “few weeks” from Doug’s pov), it’s probably been somewhere between two and a half to three weeks since 13.07, and the last time Dean SAW Cas in person.

I assume that phone call at the end of 13.07 would’ve held him for like... a day or two before Dean would’ve been waiting for answers on what that “interesting lead” might be. We know that “Cas” had apparently communicated with SAM at least once after this, but Dean apparently has not... and possibly not because he wasn’t TRYING to, but... 

less than 12 hours after the end of 12.07, Sam and Dean get the call from Barthamus and are lured into working for the demon under super sketchy circumstances with a high stakes prize on the line (the spell that could help them locate Jack). It’s what they’d all been looking for all along. Then almost immediately after THOSE events, comes the call from Jody letting them know of a potential Jack Sighting. And they’re off to figure out what Jack’s up to.

At the beginning of 13.09, Sam tells Dean that he heard from Cas, who was supposedly working a lead on Jack in Tucson, immediately before Jody calls with a rather concrete lead on Jack in North Dakota (which is nowhere near Tucson...)

We should assume that Sam and Dean attempted to contact Cas to let him know about the lead THEY were following, since there isn’t much else to do on a 10 hour car ride (or however long that was). After that, things happen kind of fast... They find Kaia, and Jack, and tangle with angels and are fleeing for their lives and whoopsie get tossed into an alternate universe for two days.

I can guarantee that they at least called Cas to deliver the terrible news that Jack had disappeared, probably into the War World, and they have no idea how to reach him now that Kaia is “dead.”

So it’s probably safe to assume that Asmodeus also knows Jack’s current theoretical whereabouts, and we know he also knows about the potential threat of the War World’s Michael. And he’s probably scheming up some sort of nonsense about all of this. Which doesn’t have anything to do with your question, but since Asmodeus is currently pretending to be Cas on the phone to the Winchesters, it’s good to keep a running tally of Things He Knows That He Probably Shouldn’t Know... okay back to the question. :P

What we should all be concerned about is the implication that they’ve likely been back from the Bad Place for over a week now, and Sam’s just moping, and Dean’s been carrying on carrying on. Having reported Jack’s fate to Cas, it seems difficult to imagine that Cas wouldn’t have returned to the bunker by now unless he had some other potential “lead” he could suggest he hunt down for trying to reach Jack in the AU. It’s really difficult to imagine Dean would just accept Cas had gone missing in a situation like that, you know? Even if Dean is currently trying to hold things together while Sam’s been struggling, I don’t think he would’ve been holding himself together as well as he has unless he had at least some assurance that Cas was okay, since they’ve built up Cas’s return as The Thing That Made Dean Okay Again.

I’m really looking forward to seeing how 13.12 handles all of this, because 13.11 was focused so much more on Sam’s current spiral into the dumps and 13.12 looks like it’s going to put Dean through some rough times instead. :P

But essentially, yes. I think he’s really TRYING to trust Cas, like he advised Doug to trust Donna. But after the truth came out between Donna and Doug, Doug left. I think Dean’s gonna see the truth about what’s happened to Cas very soon...

[ricksbitchc-137]

Untitled-Rick x Reader

This is based on a message I received a few days ago that made me freak out and spiral completely out of control. I don’t add people on Facebook that I do not know, so this message was either sent to me by a family member or a close friend-which is what hurt the most. So I wrote a little something because I’m garbage and I’m really bummed about it, but this can go out to anyone who has to deal with anonymous assholes like I do.

The anonymous message you just received hit you like a freight train.

You had downloaded the Sarahah app for a little anonymous fun, and you could tell which friends had sent you which jokes or your favorite tv show quotes. It was fun to guess, but this message was different. This one pointed out how annoying you were, how ugly you were, and how no one cared about what you loved or what you had to say, about how you weren't special or different, and how no one cared about you.

It's enough you were depressed from high school graduation and all your friends leaving you to go off to college or move out of country. With your mom in and out of the hospital, and your brother possibly going to jail, the Smiths offered you to move in with them, so you did-but had been guilt ridden every day since. So you'd been looking for something to perk you up a bit. But you didn't know something like this would happen.

At first you shrugged off the message but, right now, you could feel an oncoming panic attack. Your breathing was shallow; your eyes widened subconsciously, and tears started welling up. Luckily no one was home so you could fully release your feelings without any judgement. You picked up your phone to text your closest friend that you wouldn't be online for a while, but your hands were so shaky that even auto correct couldn't find the right words to say. So you opted to give up.

Setting your phone on the table in front of you, you hugged your knees to your chest and tilted your head forward, letting your breath chase and catch those sobs emerging from your chest. You felt pathetic.

Why would anyone take the time out of their day to hurt you? Why would anyone go completely out of their way to say something so mean? You've been hanging on for so long now, you've been through therapy, tried dozens of antidepressants, and you've tried so hard to keep it together. Only for someone to knock you right back down to where you started? Why? What did you do to deserve this?

You were squeaking with every intake of breath, shaking on every exhale, and your skin and clothes were soaked from the tears that flowed freely and without care.

The seat beside you sank a bit, but you were too hurt to give a fuck who sat next to you. At this point you didn't care who saw you this way, you just needed to breathe and let it out. A hesitant hand patted your back, and a familiar gruff voice told you to breathe.

"You...you okay, kid? I've never *urp* seen you this way."

But you couldn't respond. You were panting every breath, silently hoping he might leave. Your hands dangled out in front of you, trying desperately to grab onto something...anything. You were soon pulled into a tight embrace, letting your legs sink to a normal sitting position. Rick wrapped an arm around you to where you could hold on to it and calm yourself down.

"Did someone fuck with you?" He said from behind you, his face pressing against the back of your head slightly. You squeezed his arm for affirmation, hoping he'd understand so you wouldn't have to talk. "Y'know, I didn't want to have to kill anyone today." You giggled a little, your breath slowing down enough to calm yourself fully.

"Well," you snorted, "people kinda suck."

Without missing a beat, he replied "Kinda? Bit, uh, a bit more than that, don't you think?"

You leaned back a little, your back pressing into his chest. "Heh, yeah."

A moment passed as you focused on breathing, and you reached for your phone. You loaded up the message, feeling the tears well up again-but you pushed through and handed Rick your phone. "I know you don't exactly care, and I won't be surprised if you make fun of me, but this is why I'm upset."

He narrowed his eyes as he read the message, seemingly scrutinizing every word. You drew random invisible patterns on his arm with your finger, patiently waiting on his feedback. Before you had the chance to get lost in your thoughts, he locked your phone and set it beside you on the couch. You glanced up at him, and he did not seem happy.

"Who the fuck sent that to you?" He growled, his arm protectively tightening around you.

"I don't-I don't know. I-It's anonymous. I can't even get an IP address from it, like you showed me."

"Sounds to me like someone's projecting. Look, uh...you're writing me out of character here, and, for your own comfort, but...you are by far the most unique person I know. In any-any multiverse, shit. You're too old to be eighteen, th-there's no kid this bright…y-you're not a sheep. This kid sounds like they've got some fuckin,' daddy issues or something. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone, you bitchslapped me just for suggesting you shoot the guy who assaulted you. So, I don't know what this guy's deal is, but fuck 'em. Why should you give a rat's ass about some, stupid little weak ass pussy who hides behind a screen's opinion? Jesus Christ."

His words weren't exactly what you were looking for, but this was as kind as he'd ever been, so you settled. Might piss him off, but you took a chance and turned around to wrap your arms around his neck. He stiffened a little, but eased up and awkwardly patted your back. "Thank you, Rick. It means a lot to me that you said anything."

"W-whatever, just...fuck everyone else, kid."

You grinned to yourself, knowing full well Rick cared about you more than he would ever let on (*cough* just like with Morty *cough*). Confidently you pulled his face towards yours and kissed him on the cheek, earning a hateful glare and a slight blush that you wouldn't notice had you been a few feet away.

I think I'm going to take Rick's advice. I don't fucking care what anyone thinks of me. They can have their opinions, but boy howdy, I'm also capable of mine. I am far, far better than some coward who can only voice their opinions from behind a screen. And I deserve better.

This isn't only for me, but for every tumblr user and friend that I've lost because anonymous assholes decided to take time out of their day to hurt them, just because they could. You are so much better than anyone who thinks you're a piece of shit, cuz check this out, Rick doesn't think that. I mean, he might say it, but well, we all know the truth. Anyway, I wrote this for myself ideally, but it can totally work for anyone else in my situation.