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#can i just kill myself and/or everyone else instead about it
foolishnpd · 4 months
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getting called out for my behavior is the worst. criticism is just an instant mood drop like no other
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clericlost · 2 years
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lately i’ve been feeling so much like. cheering clapping applause to be here with y’all but all the enthusiasm is stuck in a snowglobe that i can’t figure out how to break cause it’s made of fear pain agony because social anxiety every time i log on :/
#out.#negative //#it sucks to experience but honestly it sucks more than like. i know people are here to have fun and often write better when#they can actually get along w their writing partner?#and i hate that this Thing is just in the way of me and everyone else but idk how to get rid of it#it's just Paralyzing like i just get stuck and it feels impossible to shake myself out of it#and then i feel anxious about THAT lmao so. wondering if i need to just throw the towel in instead of doing this to my partners jdskfs#like i logically know it's not That big of a deal but i also know it can feel so discouraging to be excited abt smth and not feel it back#but it's not even the feeling it back that's the issue! it's just talking w people idk why my brain just flatlines over it but it's so bad#lately. when i'm in a good headspace i'm the exact same way and LOVE when i can iron down my interactions to ppl i just Enjoy being around#but when i'm in a bad headspace it's so hard to do anything other that hide in ic replies indefinteily#even with people i'm so so comfortable with cause it is very much a state of being that stems from Me not anyone else#idk. i just feel shitty for ghosting but then i feel too shitty to fix it :/#wish i could psychically link w all of you so u could know how happy i am to write with you#idk why it's so hard to translate ooc one on one#idk why it's like there's an actual physical wall in my brain stopping me most of the time#social anxiety fucking sucks i guess lol#yeah....... killing it w my mind#i know it's probably just made worse by my recent caffiene addiction but it'll probably be a while before i can kick that shit so#idk if i should quit while i'm barely ahead or just. try to be okay with ic replies#but i Hate that cause it feels like such bad rp etiquette like. i don't wanna rp like that lol#but idk how else to while i'm like this :/#which probably means i should take a break!! but i selfishly don't wanna lose more writing partners than i already have but then#i guess either way i might lose some people but at least if i took a break it'd feel like less shitty of a reason#ugh......#too much to think about on a sunday afternoon
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inkskinned · 1 year
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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.
anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."
just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.
i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.
when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.
but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.
i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?
most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.
now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.
and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.
go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.
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jrwiyuri · 1 year
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Do u ever look at a ficitonal story and be like “man I’m ngl in the long run I just don’t think anyone will be ok ever.” That’s how I feel about d&daddies
#stupid snake talk#like me personally if I had to be any part of that main quest to save the world I think I would just kill myself!!#wtf do u mean I have to grapple the end of the world & my parents being awful ppl AND some old fuck manipulating me / or my friends#brother my ass is getting OUT OF HERE!!#I’ll see u in heaven or hell.. idc either way my ass does NOT have to deal with that shit#I love happy endings and like I mean realistically this will maybe hopefully possibly maybe have one#but also I’m thinking realistically and like#how do u grapple with the trauma u go through as a 12 y/o#especially if ur scary and like u know u were manipulated after the fact#you fucking cut ur friends dad in half and all the other fucked you did to try and save the world and do what’s rights#was in vain and didn’t even matter because you were lied to#and everyone else knew it and now you feel so stupid and like a complete failure and awful person cause you had genuine people who do love#& care about u there the entire time but you pushed them away and instead clinged onto smth that was toxic and awful#and refused to listen to anyone else#(I don’t actually blame her but I’m putting out the inherent guilt you’d probably feel for unknowingly doing all of this..)#like idk man if I was scary I think I would just be depressed for the rest of my whole entire life#I mean if I was ANY of them I’d do that.. but especially her#like damn girl idk if therapy can fix u tbh.. ur fucked for like me thinks!!!
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theminecraftbee · 6 months
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task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.
Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.
Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.
Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.
Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.
Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.
Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!
Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.
Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.
Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!
Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?
Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?
Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.
Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?
BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.
Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.
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fragileheartbeats · 2 months
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Your a pussy you say you don't have a side but you LOVE AEGON.You think we are stupid like you??? Have balls and say your a Rape Apologist who wants to fuck a pretty bitch named Tom who's a rapist.Aegon is a half-blood murder rapist you fucking disgusting.Rhaenyra was rightful queen but he take her right away from her.aren't you a woman???you supposed to take Rhaenyra side but you just want to be raped by a pretty boy.you just like aegon because of tom.
I'm really tired of people like you.
You're stupid, your argument is stupid, you sound stupid and you make stupid points.
You think because you're team black you did a great thing or something? You can't be that stupid that you don't understand that the writers want you to be on black side. It's pretty obvious. Writers are pro black and unprofessional, I bet they didn't even read the book.
I don't like Aegon because Tom playing him and I want to fuck a pretty bitch, I like Tom because he play Aegon. If he didn't played Aegon, I would never have known this lovely man, and you guys really should stop insulting him, he's just doing his job and he try he's best to do a good job so we can enjoy the show. If you hate him, keep it to yourself because words have more affect that you might think. I understand that you don't like him, there are people that I myself dislike but I would never say something like this about them, not only your words can hurt them mentally but also can ruin their life.
Aegon was a rapist, yes almost like every other men in GOT and HOTD. And if you actually think with a brain you can understand that on his time it was normal for men in power to rape women. It was normal for sons to take the throne after their father and it was normal for siblings to kill each other for power. You really think if he lived in 2024 he would be a rapist and a murder? Or would he tried to take Rhaenyra's right?
"Half-blood" is such a funny word to use. Rhaenyra herself wasn't a pure Targaryen, her bastards are less that half Targaryen and her true borns aren't pure Targaryen either. Idk why you guys use this word as if it's an insult and it's give her more right (if she was a pure Targaryen, which she's not) to be queen.
"Rightful"? What do you exactly mean by that? There is no rightful when it's come to power, and if it is, the day that Aegon was born and the day that Rhaenyra born her first bastard it was over. Believe it or not, people didn't want a woman in power, especially a woman like Rhaenyra. And they didn't want bastards to sit on iron throne. Idk why it's so hard to understand that this war would happened not matter if it was Aegon or someone else, but I promise people wouldn't let a woman and especially a woman who have obvious bastards sit on iron throne.
Tell me something that Rhaenyra did and it's make her a rightful and good queen, just one thing and I promise I would choose black.
Actually when she sat on iron throne, it's cut her and she bleed and it was a sign that the throne rejected her.
She would never make a good queen, she was spiteful, jealous and a lustful woman, the only thing that make her a "queen" is her father claiming her as heir. She lack strong sense of duty and her desires make her to do a lot of stupid things. She was someone who ignored the rules and did not accept her responsibilities and shirked from them. Being a king or queen need a great potential that she lacked.
"With great power come great responsibility". She wanted the power, yes but she didn't do anything to deserve it. Instead of changing herself, she expects others to obey her without any words or expectations. She didn't read anything about history and didn't try to fit herself into her position as a female heir.
One of the worst things she did that jeopardized her position as future queen was that she gave birth to bastards, but what made it worse was that she pretended that they were true born and should sit on the iron throne after her. And she punished everyone who said otherwise. As I said before, she's Targaryen version of Cersei. Both Rhaenyra and Cersei gave birth to three ridiculously obvious looking bastards and tried everything in their power to shut the people who said the true. But at least Cersei could tell that her bastards look like her unlike Rhaenyra.
Of course, Viserys is also to blame. He never prepared Rhaenyra to be queen because he never intended to choose her as his heir in the first place, he always tried for a son and when Aemma failed to give him a son he chose Rhaenyra as his heir (he didn't want Daemon to be king). He also increased the chances of starting a war by having three true born sons and choosing none as his heir.
Rhaenyra always relied on others and never took responsibility for her mistakes and never tried to change.
And if this is about feminism, isn't feminism supposed to be about equality between men and women? If so then tell me why Rhaenyra stayed behind, eat her sweets and watched her family die for her while Aegon fought in the war, being burned and crippled?
Ever wondered why Rhaenyra couldn't win this war even though she had more dragons and more people supporting her? Maybe it was because she didn't know how to be a ruler? Maybe it was because she wasn't fit to be a queen? Maybe it was because she did almost everything wrong?
I don't want to be raped, I like Tom, yes because he's a sweet man. He's lovely and beautiful, ofc I like him. But Aegon is a different story, I always liked Aegon, he was the most interesting character in the book and I understood him most that's why I like him.
Now please stop your bullshit, you're just embarrassing yourself, it's pathetic.
The next time you decide to send a message like this think with your brain because I'm done being polite.
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vadersassistant · 9 months
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Hiiii
wo dering if you could do an enemies to lover anakin imagine. kind of like friends to enemies to lovers or something like that and it ends in them making out o whatever you are comfortable with.
Anyways thank youuu
Denial One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)
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Summary: After venturing into a Sith Temple to try and find an edge on the current war, (Y/N) meets her enemy, Lord Vader, the man who killed her best friend and secret lover. He has been hunting both her and her alias down for months, following her across the galaxy, but little does she know, he has no plans to kill her. Takes place in the temple seen in the Star Wars Rebels season two finale. Reader was previously a Jedi and is in hiding due to order 66.
Warnings: Make out session
A/N: (Y/N) does not know Vader is Anakin, and Vader does not know (Y/N) is the Fugitive he has been searching for. This is once again a mix of suited Vader and nightfall Vader. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.
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The temple was eerie, an odd feeling passing by with each step you took. It was the opposite of the one I grew up in, representing everything I was told to dislike, and yet I was here anyways. I had made up my mind to fight instead of continuing to run from the problem. I wasn’t a rebel, but I wasn’t an imperial either. I was the middle ground, a former Jedi with a new identity, a mask to shield my face so that I could live freely, but the saber still gave it away. I was good, too good to be a civilian having fun with an old relic, even though some still used them publicly. Some, as in him.
The Jedi fell and Lord Vader rose out of thin air. There was no preface, no foreshadowing, he just came, and everyone bowed their heads.
To outsiders he was a military leader trained in combat, who happened to use an imaginary power. To force users, like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and I, he was a Sith. We all knew it the second he began hunting us down. He wanted the Jedi dead and made it clear when he began searching for my alias as well. Everyone knew who she was, I was put on every single imperial security watch available, but I evaded it all I could. I forged a new saber, so that they couldn’t track me that way, and told people about how the female jedi on the Holonets from the clone wars died. The only people who truly knew were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, since they too had done something similar. He was Ben, she was Ashla, and I gained the name Fugitive, a mask being the only way to keep track of my identity.
I couldn’t count how many storm-troopers I had killed by now, just that I did. I was forced to, to keep myself alive, because he wanted me turned in. I was always told to run, to flee from Vader because of what he’s done, but all I wanted was for the man to wind up dead. A lust for revenge had developed ever since I learned what he did to my best friend, Anakin Skywalker.
I don’t even know how he could have killed a warrior like him, but he did and now he’s gone. Slaughtered like any other while trying to save people in the temple, something someone with his character would have done naturally. The worst part is that everyone he was trying to save is dead too, and that he could have escaped with us, had he not done what he did. He had a wife, Senator Amidala, a good friend of mine, who also died that night, although I wasn’t sure if they ended on good terms.
The two had been arguing for a while, he believed she was cheating on him with Obi Wan, although she continued to deny it along with everyone else. I was the only one who he talked to about his problems willingly, even Kenobi would have to go through reading his mind to talk about personal issues. It was only when Anakin died that the truth came out, that being that Anakin was right, and she was seeing Kenobi.
I hadn’t recognized him after that point. I knew he was afraid he would be kicked out of the Jedi order if we found out he was dating another woman. Even further, the fact he knowingly was allowing the affair to happen, but it occurred anyways, and he lost everything with it. That was consequence enough, he didn’t need me to yell at him any further for going that far.
Still, I was angry, because I cared about Anakin.
And also loved him.
I denied it for years, the helpless prodding’s from Ahsoka when the two of us would spend hours upon hours with each other. We carried out the entire war effort, working extremely close together on missions. It was no surprise that I liked him, he had even mentioned subtly what things would be like if he hadn’t met her. It sounded like he regretted it, but I had no clue, due to us being force users.
I now stood in front of the man who took him away, the one that gutted him in the chest like a fish with no care whatsoever. The man that had been hunting me down under both my names since the night of the fall, the one that was known for murdering everyone in his path. I don’t know how he found me, I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t care. We needed the Holocron inside of the temple, and Ahsoka now had it in hand. I could sense their distraught, both behind me looking at the Sith in front of us. They didn’t want to fight him; they were afraid to fight him. I felt differently, looking at his mask through the visors of my own.
“It was foretold that you would be here, our long-awaited meeting has come at last."
“This meeting is over,” Ahsoka said.
“Are you so sure?” the Sith questioned through the modulated voice his mask provided him, as I stepped forward.
“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked me, his breath becoming short.
“Leave."
“No," he shook his head. "Don’t do this."
“Leave. Now.”
I looked up at the temple’s ceiling as the walls started to drop down. It was collapsing on itself, since the Holocron had been taken from the Obelisk. There wasn’t much to do, but I knew I didn’t want to pull them into this. I turned around and outstretched a hand.  
Ahsoka screamed as I force pushed both her and Obi-Wan back while the temple’s walls crashed down. I saw her figure fly back just before the drop and felt her gently land. There was a ship, they could leave, I would worry about myself after I killed him.
“We’re finishing this here,” I said. "I know you've been hunting me for the past months."
“You are courageous, unlike your friends,” the Sith mused. “Hateful.”
“You killed my best friend," I pointed out. "I want you to experience that same pain."
“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he reminded. "Your confidence dilutes your ability to make rational decisions."
“I am no Jedi.”
“Then who are you? Your saber is unlike any I have ever seen, an identity successfully hidden behind a helm.”
“That’s none of your business, why have you been hunting me?” I asked. I felt the pressure of the Dark Side creeping against my mind's barriers, he was trying to invade.
“You would make a wonderful apprentice in the dark side,” Vader said. "You have already abandoned your training as a Jedi."
“I don’t side with murderers.”
“And yet you are one. I have seen your way of fighting Fugitive; you have killed countless of our troops and inquisitors.”
“Your Inquisitorious is an embarrassment, and I will never join you, not after what you did,” I called my saber to my hand, igniting it.
“Then you will die.”
There was this feeling of fear that attempted to wash over me, like he was attempting to throw me off, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore.
I ran full speed at him, force pushing myself up off the ground and into the air to try and put myself on the offensive. My blade met his right over his helmet, as he angled me back and I landed behind him. My automatic response was to try and swing for his legs, a move he evaded but had been surprised by. I knew I needed to be careful with how I played things. He would try and tire me out by just playing the defensive, but I also didn’t get that tired frow much stamina I built up during the war. Vader was also bigger, and stronger, meaning I’d need to use his weight to my advantage. I was quick, less stable, and grounded, and more agile in my movements.
We continued to take shots at each other, as he seemingly began to test me. It was a constant switch from the right to the left, bashing at each other from different angles and walking along with it. It was something Anakin and I always did, and it almost felt familiar. For whatever reason, I could feel myself getting into the rhythm Skywalker and I got into when we would train every day. After a certain point I would always switch my grip and force him to back off, and I did it purely out of muscle memory, shoving the Sith back.
“Your anger focuses you,” he commented. “Join me and I can enhance that power.”
“You killed him, the man I loved, do you truly believe I would ever consider that?”
“He is gone for a reason,” Vader said.
“He was the chosen one!” I shouted, interlocking lightsabers in a pursuit for power over the other. "You know why he lost his life?! Because he was trying to save everyone else, instead of actually caring for himself for once."
“(Y/N)."
I stumbled back immediately, hearing that name leave his mouth,
"What?"
My eyes widened beneath the visors, letting my guard down for just a moment.
It was all he needed.
I felt his immense force break through my walls and invade my mind, clawing through my memories and thoughts like a file. Not only that, but he immediately took me to the ground. It was quick, as he now straddled me, muscular thighs resting over my lower waist. Both my arms were pinned to either side with by the force, my saber in his hand.
I grunted, struggling under him and thrusting against his cod piece hoping it would make him budge but it barely made a difference. I couldn’t do a thing, as the Sith reached for my mask and pressed down on the sides. I felt it depressurize, as his gloved digits lifted it off my head, and I looked into his mask with my own eyes.
"How do you know my name?" I asked angrily as I fought underneath him to free myself.
There was no way of telling what he truly felt in that moment, holding the helm silently, breathing being the only indication he was still alive. I continued to try and do everything to get out of his grasp, but the Sith only sat there and took me in, his body heat lingering over my own. I felt like a mess, wondering where Ahsoka and Obi-Wan might be right now, realizing why Anakin lost his life to this man. I didn’t know how he knew my name, my real name, the one that no one had called me in months. I was fully pinned down, not giving up until I saw him reach for his own helmet.
"What are you do—"
My throat ran dry, amber eyes piercing through my body like a blade.
"Anakin."
It was him, with brown hair that held golden streaks just above his armor.
"(Y/N)."
Hearing his voice sent a shiver down my entire back, as I shuddered underneath him.
“I thought you died—they said Vader killed you—" there were tears welling up in my eyes, looking up at him.
“I am alive."
“Why did you turn?"
“The Jedi council was using us, Obi-Wan lied to me about Padme (Y/N), they were having an affair. But you know that already.”
“Obi Wan told us,” I trailed off.
“I know.”
“Do you plan to kill me?”
“No, that was never my intent," he emphasized lowly.
“So, what will you do?” I questioned.
“After separating myself from the order, I reflected much upon it,” Anakin started. "And came to terms with several of my mistakes."
“What mistakes?”
Still straddling me Anakin leaned down, placing his hands by either sides of my head and lowering himself to my ear.
“I was blindly dating filthy senator, when I had the love of my life right next to me the entire time."
"What do you mean?" I emphasized each word, my abdomen tensing as he got so close to me.
"There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of my future and imagine you by my side. I told myself it was our strong bond causing me to think of you constantly, due to the amount of time we spent together, but now, I feel completely different."
"Anakin," my heart was racing, as he continued to whisper into my ear.
"Maker, I missed you so much."
He was just trying to be friendly, that's all this was.
"Now, I know you are not that naive," he let out a deep chuckle, reading my mind.
"Is this your way of coercing me into joining the dark side?" I said softly, trying to play it off.
"There is no need to coerce you (Y/N), your heart is already doing all the work," Anakin told me. "All there is to do is to make up for lost time."
"No.."
"Continuing to deny it is only stalling the inevitable," he spoke in a playful way. "Your hatred towards the one you believed to be my killer only proves it more."
"I—" I cut myself off, as Anakin moved his head, now right over mine.
"What is it?" he asked me, his golden eyes flicking from my lips up to my eyes in quick fashion.
I gave in, nodding to his silent question and feeling the force lift off my hands.
Anakin pressed his lips to mine as I lifted my head up and met him midway. His robotic hand came down to my waist, the other combing through my hair as he helped hold my head steady. It was delicate and prepared, goosebumps crawling over my skin as his weight pressed me onto the cold temple floors. He was an expert in the way he worked around my mouth, the first time I had ever kissed anyone to begin with.
To think such a sacred place would be ruined due to our own shenanigans.
A Jedi and a Sith, making out in a temple with no care for sentiment.
His lips were chapped yet soft, and the more breaths we took between kissing the more swollen they became. Anakin didn’t seem to care though, continuing to go down on my neck allowing me to breath. He wasn’t going too far, but it was enough for the occasion, leaving marks I that wouldn’t leave for days.
It was madness.
Everything around us screamed in pleasure, the force happily chiming along with the two sides agreeing on something, even if it wasn’t an argument. Anakin had changed, and I couldn’t decide if it was for better or for worse.
If only those two could see me now, making love to the man that we had been running from for months. The copious amounts of rage had turned to attraction in a blink of an eye, rejoicing in his presence as my hand pressed against his tunic and I felt his abdomen underneath the fabric. He was such light and yet the darkness itself, drowning me in it as we sunk into a pool of ecstasy.
The cold stone floors were soon heated, as the temple grew humid and we both simultaneously agreed to take our tops off. It was the definition of multitasking, as I took off his armor and tunic, leaving behind a black pair of pants, and his boots. With the force he slipped my top off, gaining access to my collar bone and gracing it with his mouth. There was a possessive feeling in the air, as he took in my body for the first time with his own eyes as I did to him.
"You are so beautiful, it is intoxicating."
I felt myself smiling, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck, the both of us kissing deeply. This was it, holding our breath as we enjoyed one another, but the force was warning the both of us.
The temple shook, I almost forgot it was collapsing.
"We need to escape before we become trapped inside," Anakin said. "My ship is outside."
"And you assume I'm coming?"
"I know you are."
I laughed, acknowledging his foresight. We put on our clothes hurriedly yet thoroughly, as someone trained to handle life or death would. In truth, that was what we stood for, as Jedi and Sith both came together as one, in ways that would be frowned upon.
Except we didn't care.
We weren't denying it any longer.
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Back in business since the recent Ahsoka episode. Hope you all enjoyed!
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pillowspace · 3 months
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The Magnus Archives Fic Rec List
Press the read more for recommended fanfiction of The Magnus Archives! Never heard The Magnus Archives and are interested?
Current number of fics: 85
last updated March 18th, 2024
These are all works that I have personally read at least a couple thousand words of and enjoyed myself, so this list will reflect my own reading habits
If you are the author of a fic, you can request your work be removed from the list. Everyone should be comfortable
Table of Contents - 1. England Jonmartin-centric, 2. Scottish Safehouse Period, 3. Gen or Background Pairings, 4. Time Travel, 5. Highly Alternate, 6. Gerrymichael, 7. Other, 8. Updates (note: some categories tend to overlap. Only one will be prioritized)
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England Jonmartin-Centric
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Full, Riotous Bloom by BigTed
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding…” Jon looks at him. Looks at him. The look of a boss whose employee was late three times last week, the look of a man who was just busy doing something really important and now he’s here, doing this instead. “...why he stole a grieving family’s oven gloves.”
-
Martin has a run in with a deadly Leitner, leaving him choking on his unrequited love.
M | Words: 66,962 | Chapters: 13/13
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fell in your opinion when i fell in love with you by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“This is the Magnus Institute, not a creative writing course at university. If that doesn’t agree with him, he can leave.” There was a thud and the sound of rifling tapes. “He can take his bloody tea with him.”
Martin’s fingers tightened on the saucer. Oh.
-
Martin knows better than to talk about it. It's fine. He's fine.
Part 1 of it's only when i hit the ground it causes all the grief
M | Words: 18,987 | Chapters: 2/2
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Just a Little Bit Pet-tea by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin makes Jon tea for the first time about a week into his transfer. It’s horrible. Gag-reflex inducing. Somehow sporting all the wrong flavors.
For some reason, he does not have the heart to break this to Martin.
Little does Jon know that Martin actually makes wonderful tea. Just not for him.
G | Words: 13,335 | Chapters: 3/3
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Misshapes, Mistakes, Monsters by ZaliaChimera
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The Archives are his and stepping away from them, even for a night… it’s strange. Like he’s pretending to be someone else.
Like he’s pretending to be human.
Jon and Martin attend Jon's Oxford University Reunion.
T | Words: 7,969 | Chapters: 1/1
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Say You Love Me (Learn to Lie) by iamcringebutiamfree
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
It shouldn’t have been surprising to learn that Martin hated him. He had been, he knew, a truly terrible boss - he’d treated Martin horribly, caused him to lose his home, nearly gotten him killed. Really, it had been ridiculous to ever think that Martin wouldn’t hate him.
Still, Jon had been trying, in his own way, to make it up to him. There wasn’t exactly a card at the drugstore that said, “I’m sorry I berated you for six months and caused you to nearly be eaten by a swarm of worms of potentially supernatural origin,” but he’d been trying. He brought Martin breakfast every morning, made sure the breakroom cabinets were stocked with his favorite blends of tea, and had tried to work some genuine praise into his feedback of Martin’s work. None of it was the direct apology that his conscience told him he really ought to give, but Martin had appreciated it. Or seemed to, anyway.
Jon wasn’t certain what motivated the decision he made next - whether it was guilt or spite or something else. He could, he knew, be quite petty when the situation called for it. Either way, he made up his mind then and there to prove Martin wrong. He was going to be the best fake boyfriend he could be.
A Fake Dating AU!
T | Words: 37,889 | Chapters: 10/10
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a consideration of tropes by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Do you know much about cataloguing?” Jon asks, a little out of breath from the stairs.
Martin, mid-trolley, rolls his eyes. The gesture he makes at the shelves around him is only emphasised by the book he’s holding.
“What exactly do you think I do here, other than sit around and wait for angry patrons to yell at me?”
“Think of what you’re going to yell back?” Jon says, and Martin’s mouth twitches into a smile.
-
Asking the very important question: what if Jon and Martin had a gentle archives/library romance, and kept running into tropes? What if there was mutual pining involved? Only one bed? Fake dating? Hurt/comfort? Or perhaps, a soft and happy ending?
T | Words: 40,966 | Chapters: 8/8
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It Serenely Disdains to Destroy Us by trill_gutterbug
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin gnaws his lower lip. “Do you think he’ll - I mean, do you think it’ll be…”
Melanie's smile becomes a little less of a grimace. She claps his shoulder. “Martin. It’ll be fine. It’s only temporary. He’s not moving in.”
Martin chuckles. “Yes. Of course.”
-
Jon's flat is being fumigated. He is not impressed. Martin offers his spare bedroom.
T | Words: 13,048 | Chapters: 1/1
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terror management theory by prismatical
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist (briefly)
“It’s a preexisting condition,” Jon explains, sipping more bitter tea. “I sort of got—hm. You know Spiderman?”
Tim raises an eyebrow.
“Heard of him, yeah.”
Jon nods, studying his tea.
“It’s sort of like that,” he says. “A spider killed and ate me when I was a child, and now I can’t stay dead.”
-
Resurrection isn't all it's cracked up to be.
T | Words: 36,587 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clutching Daffodils by Gemi
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight.
It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs.
He always liked the idea of it.
And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.
NR | Words: 7,624 | Chapters: 1/1
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a little love, a little sympathy by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
And then Jon is snarling into his face, demanding what are you hiding with a strange, bright-eyed intensity Martin has never seen from him before, and Martin thinks god, maybe he should just come clean about his CV, Jon thinking he's a fraud can't be any worse than Jon thinking he's a murderer-
Martin opens his mouth to speak. To his absolute horror, what actually comes out is: "I used to pretend to cry because I liked how nice you were to me when you thought I was upset!"
G | Words: 3,308 | Chapters: 1/1
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all resistance wearing thin by DivineProjectZero
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin Blackwood would do anything for Jonathan Sims. The Web made him that way, after all.
T | Words: 4,799 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sam nie pojmuję, jak w twe zajdę progi by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin's been acting odd since Jon came back. Well, odder than usual.
T | Words: 3,118 | Chapters: 1/1
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Mundanity by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Inspired by @ themlet's post on Tumblr: Jon has to deal with normal human interactions. Martin helps (sort of). Featuring high school reunions, knitted sweaters, and conversations on the bus ride home.
T | Words: 3,097 | Chapters: 1/1
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Musical Mechanism by Darblesify
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin has always used music to cope. One day he's playing music music out loud in the archive and Tim and Sasha realize the main singer's voice sounds familiar.
AKA Martin's favorite band might happen to be the one Jon was secretly a part of in college.
T | Words: 21,411 | Chapters: 8/8
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Misfiled and Misinformed by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon and Martin are married. Tim and Sasha know this. What they don't know is that it's to each other.
T | Words: 2,507 | Chapters: 1/1
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look no further by inkyindigo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin just wants to keep Jon safe. Sometimes the easiest way to do that is to bodily remove him from harm's way.
or, a collection of times Martin picks Jon up.
T | Words: 15,145 | Chapters: 8/8
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Touch Me, Even if it Hurts by AuralQueer
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
People don't really touch Jonathan Sims unless they want to hurt him. That's mostly fine. Jon has never been a tactile person, and he doesn't need anyone but himself.
Except the world is falling down around him, and loneliness aches, and sometimes he'll take anything - even cruelty - just to feel human again.
*A story set between s1 and s4, looking at Jon's relationship with touch, friendship, and his own humanity.
T | Words: 6,540 | Chapters: 1/1
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I'll bring the motion by callmearcturus
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.
Martin helps.
(based on this amazing art by linecrosser)
T | Words: 3,127 | Chapters: 1/1
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thanks for the company by lukeskqwalker
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin had been baffled by how easily he spilled his guts out to this odd stranger. Now, Martin is more baffled by the baggy My Chemical Romance t-shirt he's wearing, paired with tasteful plaid pajama bottoms.
Or, Martin gets a visitor in his dreams. Reliving the same 14 days of loneliness every night isn't as bad when you have company.
T | Words: 4,314 | Chapters: 1/1
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stranger, stranger by blueskiddoo
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Sure,” Georgie says, still laughing at him. At least someone is having fun. “Don’t you have assistants for that kind of thing?”
“Yes, but…” He huffs, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to ask one of them to download an app called...Lover? Lov-rrr? I don’t know how you say it.” He flaps his hands dismissively. “There are--unions and such. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”
*
jon makes a fake account on a dating app to investigate a statement. tim sets martin up with fake account on a dating app to boost his self-confidence. it goes exactly how you might expect.
G | Words: 36,771 | Chapters: 11/11
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i wanna find a home (i wanna share it with you) by heartshapedguy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Have you got anywhere to stay?” Jon asks him, briskly. “Friends, acquaintances, maybe, who you could stay with…?”
Martin flushes, deeply. “I, I mean— n-no, not really,” he stammers, and then goes even redder. “Or, just, y’know not that I’d want to, to. Put in the middle of this. Put in danger of, of worms.”
“Ah,” Jon says, “No, of course, that makes sense.” Why drag anyone else into this mess? Seven people died during Prentiss’s initial hospitalization; the collateral damage of roping someone from outside the Institute into her orbit doesn’t bare thinking about. “In that case…” Jon feels like there’s some alternative solution, one he’s just not thinking of at the moment, but it evades him, and Martin needs somewhere safe to stay. “My couch is quite comfortable. You’re welcome to come and stay with me until you figure something else out.”
Martin is held hostage by Jane Prentiss for two weeks, and can't go back to his flat. Jon offers him a place to stay until Prentiss and her worms can be dealt with, and they can be sure he's safe.
T | Words: 65,951 | Chapters: 19/19
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true kinda love by Did
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
So. Martin isn't expecting anything to happen. But then, one day, something...does happen. It happens when Martin is passing Jon in the hall, and stops to ask how he’s doing, because Jon always looks a little bit like hell these days, and it makes Martin feel like he has to do something, and useless small talk is pretty much all he can do, so that’s what he does. And instead of grunting or shrugging or mumbling something dismissive, Jon replies, with perfect, involuntary clarity, "Every part of me aches, and I would just about kill to have someone rub my shoulders right now."
There's a positively deafening silence as they both come to grips with this unprecedented turn of events. Then they both start talking at once.
"Ah," says Jon.
"Wow," says Martin, at the same time.
G | Words: 5,053 | Chapters: 1/1
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hey stranger by ennuijpg
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker
It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?
(Based on this post about alt jon on tumblr because it's all I've been thinking about of late.)
T | Words: 2,701 | Chapters: 1/1
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Sun-kissed by Rauchendes_GNU
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Martin doesn’t have any freckles. Jon has watched him and the others for a while now, and he knows that everyone has freckles. Tim is absolutely covered in them, and he seems to get more and more every day as Sasha seems very determined to kiss every part of Tim that is not yet covered in tiny dark spots.
Everyone has been loved by someone at some point. Everyone has been kissed, no matter if a platonic peck on the cheek or a heated kiss on the mouth. Everyone but Martin, it seems.
Or: Jon realises Martin has never been kissed. He rectifies that right away.
T | Words: 3,407 | Chapters: 1/1
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skin deep by isthepartyover
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Jonathan Sims
“Hello, Martin Blackwood speaking.”
“Oh thank god-” a woman’s voice answered, rushed and panicked, and Martin immediately closes the folder he was leafing through absent-mindedly and snaps his head towards the door. “Sorry, oh god, I’m Georgie, I’m Jon’s friend, I don’t know what to do-”
(au where georgie calls martin post burn)
M | Words: 3,125 | Chapters: 1/1
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Take Care of You (And I'll Take Care of Me) by Mad_Maudlin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Martin Blackwood met the new research assistant, his heart skipped a beat. Too bad Jonathan Sims seems to hate him.
(A soulmates AU)
M | Words: 20,386 | Chapters: 6/6
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Somebody That I Used to Know by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner (background), Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
(Minor) SPOILERS FOR MAG 161!!!
Jon gets replaced by the Not!Them. Life goes on.
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T | Words: 6,358 | Chapters: 1/1
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a six-step process by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. Not like Nikola's. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.
Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have goals, he thinks. He splits this one into steps.
Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying.
Part 2 of touch prompts
T | Words: 2,138 | Chapters: 1/1
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who's there? by bubonickitten
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon has a panic attack after Elias shows him exactly what happened behind the door after Mr. Spider took its victim.
Martin helps him calm down, and Jon tells him the story of his first Leitner.
Part 2 of thresholds
T | Words: 6,139 | Chapters: 1/1
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Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon wears a skirt to the Institute for the first time, and gets reactions he hadn't expected.
NR | Words: 1,846 | Chapters: 1/1
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northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
A voicemail made up of a female robot and Jon’s professional work tone tells him to leave a message, but Martin hangs up before the beep. He’s not even sure he can speak, let alone put this into words.
‘Hi Jon, sorry to call at four fifty-two AM. My mum just died and I don’t know what to do or how to feel. Call me back when you can! Love you, bye!’
AUish where Jon is alive when Martin's mum passes away, helps him grieve and heal (and they maybe admit to being in love)
Part 1 of northwest 6 to gale 8
M | Words: 35,828 | Chapters: 9/9
Scottish Safehouse Period
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Resigned, Though Not to Fate by inkfingers_mcgee
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“You’re really suggesting this,” Martin says, voice pulled thin.
“Yes.” No hesitation.
“You would- actually do it?”
“I would.”
“With me.”
“Yes, Martin.”
“Why?” Because love is blind, says something cliché and cruel in the pit of his gut. Christ, he never was much of a poet, was he?
Or,
When Jon asks Martin to Quit the Archives with him, Martin says yes. Things don't go as planned. In the Scottish Highlands, they hurt, and they heal.
(Re-written as of 22-12-27; see chapter 9 for more info.)
T | Words: 145,748 | Chapters: 9/9
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nor any more youth or age than there is now by Ravenesta
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The local Primary school has a new teacher. He is, to say the very least, odd.
A series of statements regarding the interactions of the townsfolk with one Jonathan Sims, never formally given.
T | Words: 6,512 | Chapters: 1/1
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There's a 15th Fear, and it's Teenagers by captloverboy
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Georgie Barker & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Melanie King & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Basira Hussain, Basira Hussain & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Helen | The Distortion & Basira Hussain, Helen | The Distortion & Martin Blackwood
What if Jonah didn't ruin everything? Didn't send the end of everything statement? What do Jon and Martin do now? Get a job, I guess. A teaching job, for Jon, though it was hardly his first pick. But sometimes your boyfriend looks *really* excited when he suggests it, and I mean, you know literally everything. It can't be that bad, right? Right?
T | Words: 26,140 | Chapters: 14/14
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the Teacher from the Magnus Archives by Athina_Blaine
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“Hey, everyone, welcome back to my channel. My name is Maggie Abernathy and today we will be continuing our investigation of the, uh, eldritch monster slash English teacher who calls itself Jonathan Sims.”
-
Maggie is determined to catch Mr. Sims via her channel, and then everyone would see how cool and smart she was, right?
T | Words: 5,993 | Chapters: 1/1
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Please Don't Tease Me Like You Did Before by bazemayonnaise
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin is grinning at his phone when Jon comes home. This is not an unusual occurrence, but Jon can sense that the particularly smug smile being levelled at him means that whatever is entertaining the man has something to do with Jon.
“Yes?” he asks once he has dumped the day at the door. “What have I done now?”
Part 1 of Jon and Martin teach at a Scottish Catholic School
G | Words: 5,380 | Chapters: 1/1
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beloved of jon by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Oh,” says Jon, numbly. “You don’t. Remember? Um. It’s complicated. What… what do you remember?”
Martin seems to shrink in on himself a little. It hurts to watch, especially after how Jon’s seen him so painstakingly grow back into his openness over the past few weeks.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t – I don’t.”
“But you remember me?” says Jon, and he tries to keep as much feeling out of that question as he can.
---
For no reason that Jon can tell, Martin forgets.
T | Words: 12,739 | Chapters: 1/1
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every good intention (is interpretation) by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They’re standing entirely too close to each other in front of the hotel desk when the clerk asks them whether they’d like a double, twin, or two singles, and Martin absolutely bottles it.
‘Uh,’ he says, at exactly the same time as Jon says, ‘Oh.’
———
There’s a conversation that Martin and Jon need to have after the Lonely. Unfortunately, they are - historically - fairly terrible at putting stuff into words.
G | Words: 11,227 | Chapters: 1/1
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These words that make a home in my chest by arthureameslove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
The moment Martin leaves the Lonely is the moment he realizes that it has taken something from him. He is left with the realization that the Lonely fog had been the only thing keeping him whole, keeping him from feeling the aching hollows of his own sorrow.
Speaking makes it worse, so he doesn't. He almost expects Jon to leave, to grow tired of him, incomplete as he is. But Jon doesn't.
Or, Martin is mute after leaving the Lonely, and he and Jon learn how to be people again, together, in the comfort of the Scottish Highlands.
T | Words: 16,060 | Chapters: 7/7
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hello my old heart by firebirdsuite
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.
Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.
T | Words: 15,864 | Chapters: 1/1
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i’m almost me again, you’re almost you by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.
Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.
---
In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.
G | Words: 12,928 | Chapters: 1/1
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Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.
or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.
T | Words: 6,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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Diary by luftballons99
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
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.
Part 1 of showing your hand
T | Words: 5,178 | Chapters: 1/1
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the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees
M | Words: 4,662 | Chapters: 1/1
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ready to call this love by yewgrove
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!
Part 1 of it is what you have.
G | Words: 5,650 | Chapters: 1/1
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Guess Who's Coming to Dinner? by pantsoflobster
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Jon,” Martin said. “I have made a grave mistake.”
Jon whipped his head up, nearly tossing the elastic from his messy bun. “What? What’s wrong? What--what did you do?”
“I... might have invited guests for dinner.”
Jon stared blankly. “What, here?”
“Seeing as this is where we live at the moment, yes.”
---
In which a week in the safehouse turns into a fake-married sitcom, because they deserve to worry about social ineptitude instead of the apocalypse for a minute
Part 1 of this is not the house that pain built
T | Words: 5,391 | Chapters: 1/1
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Bergamot, Buckskin, and Lace by Qpenguin98
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Jon's never been a touchy person.
T | Words: 3,061 | Chapters: 1/1
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be kind, i beg you by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“Fine,” Jon says, and he tries to ignore the sulky tone of his voice, “fine. What do you suggest?”
Martin pauses, like he’d not expected Jon to give in so easily. Jon’s never been particularly agreeable, but he still feels vaguely offended by the blatant surprise. “W-we,” Martin stammers, clears his throat, continues on much more confidently, “we go in together.”
Or: it takes close quarters and a full 24 hours to finally get them on the same page.
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T | Words: 14,946 | Chapters: 1/1
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tides turning by gauras
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
There's more than one way to say I love you.
T | Words: 20,858 | Chapters: 1/1
Other Scottish Safehouse Period fics: see unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic in Other
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Gen or Background Pairings
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a deeply annoying child by ajkal2
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker, blink-and-you-miss-it Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, BUT NO SLASH WHILE ANYONE IS A CHILD
Jon is hiding under the desk.
----
There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.
G | Words: 9,631 | Chapters: 1/1
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Head in the Lion's Mouth by renwhit
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Danny Stoker & Tim Stoker, Danny Stoker & Jonathan Sims, Basira Hussain & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Danny Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Past Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Danny Stoker & Helen Richardson, Danny Stoker & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Danny Stoker & Melanie King, Basira Hussain & Tim Stoker, Basira Hussain & Danny Stoker
He fell into a deep bow, smiling the whole while. “I’m the ringmaster, of course.”
“Is that skin— Is it yours?” Old wood groaned as the Archivist shifted his weight. “Originally.”
“It is!” the ringmaster said as he swooped back upright. “Nikola decided I wore it well, so she let me keep it. Why do you ask?”
The Archivist gave him another once-over. “You just… you look familiar. Like someone I know.”
On relearning, reconnecting, and redefining.
Part 1 of Come What May
M | Words: 157,202 | Chapters: 17/17
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reach inside (to find your heart is beating) by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
This is Tim, opening the door enough for his tired, careworn face to peer through the crack; Jon sees the genuine horror on his face as he takes in his boss, bloody on his doorstep, and he thinks– maybe– he thinks he might be safe here.
“Christ.”
Chapter two added January 17th!
T | Words: 5,774 | Chapters: 2/2
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Fractals Upon Fractals by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael & Helen Richardson
“There was never meant to be two of us,” said Helen.
Or: Michael and Helen play a game of chess, and work out what it means exist in duplicate.
G | Words: 1,652 | Chapters: 1/1
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Other gen fics: see Time is Hard by Serazimei in Time Travel
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Time Travel
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Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, x2!, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
"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.
T | Words: 53,319 | Chapters: 12/12
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Déjà Vu by CirrusGrey
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
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.
T | Words: 37,652 | Chapters: 4/4
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Reflection by LazuliQuetzal
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Emma
Jonathan Sims, researcher at the Magnus Institute, is seeing a ghost. Of himself.
Of course, it’s not really him, no matter what secrets it knows, or how many arguments it brings up. So if it tells him to do something?
Obviously, he’ll be doing the exact opposite.
(AKA: Jon is an idiot, past and future, but somewhere along the way it all cancels out.)
(Expect general spoilers for S4 and specifically, MAG 158.)
T | Words: 51,527 | Chapters: 10/10
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Time is Hard by Serazimei
No Archive Warnings Apply, Michael | The Distortion & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Elias Bouchard & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael Shelley & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Michael "Mike" Crew & Michael Shelley
The Eye isn't happy with how the end of the world turned out. Neither are Jonah and Jon. There is no other option but to rewind time and go down a different path. But time is hard for The Spiral and The Web likes to meddle.
This is how Jon finds himself back in his eight year old body with all his memories, some of his powers intact and a strange bracelet around his right wrist. Saving the world, Jon realizes soon enough, is much harder when no one takes you seriously.
Part 1 of Diverging Times
M | Words: 170,443 | Chapters: 60/60
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The Cube Rule of Food Identification by bluejayblueskies
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Martin stands abruptly. His chair spins away from him, wheels squeaking on the cheap lino floor. The tension between him and Jon has reached never-before-seen levels. Tim could probably cut it with a knife. Or a particularly sharp spoon.
Then, Jon lurches forward and half-clambers atop the desk and kisses Martin, and Tim drops his sandwich.
.
Or, season one Jon and Martin receive memories from the future mid-argument, and Tim and Sasha receive emotional whiplash.
T | Words: 1,630 | Chapters: 1/1
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“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)
T | Words: 20,604 | Chapters: 6/6
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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
“So...you’re from the future. In the past. Why?”
“You want the short answer or the long one?”
“Short,” Martin says after a moment’s deliberation. “Until I decide if I trust you.”
The other nods, as if he expected that answer—which, well, if he really is Martin from the future, he probably did. “To stop the world from ending.”
They have one last chance to fix this - one last chance to prevent the Eyepocalypse, to save the world - to save their world. It all hinges on which is the greater force: greed...or love.
Part 1 of leaves 'verse
T | Words: 299,536 | Chapters: 60/60
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Highly Alternate
Alternate universes will remain in the other categories, but this category is for alterations that are especially notable in their severity. This will also include any fics where Jon has an important alignment with a different fear entity, whether that be instead of the Eye or in tandem
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The Witch's Cat by Champagne
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
“That’s the Witch’s cat,” Tim says, and grins at Martin. “Jonathan Sims, the town’s Witch, said that he’ll marry anyone that manages to get the key from the cat’s collar.”
G | Words: 12,584 | Chapters: 1/1
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What Belongs to the Sea by TwoDrunkenCelestials, WhyNotFly
No Archive Warnings Apply, Elias Bouchard/Jonathan Sims, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
“My grandmother taught me about selkies,” said the tattooed man. “Said it’s good luck for them to grace your ship. To treat ‘em right, and they’ll guide you safe.”
It had seemed like a reasonable thing to believe.
M | Words: 126,367 | Chapters: 36/36
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school's out for the summer by kiaronna
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Various Background Relationships, Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
The thing is, Jonathan Sims is someone you’d call the police on if you saw him hanging around a school, those frazzled clothes and bags under his eyes, the frantic muttering and thousand-year stare.
Yet there he sits, headteacher of The Magnus Institute for Gifted Young Minds.
The name’s a bit misleading, it is. They’re in a bad part of town. The parents are either terrible or absent, and the kids—
“They’re monsters,” his new and handsome coworker grins, when Martin’s signature on his contract is barely dry. “Absolute monsters. Get too close and you’ll lose some fingers. Or maybe your mind.”
“They’re babies,” is all Martin can feebly manage, in reply, and Tim’s eyes narrow at the fondness in his voice.
“You’ll learn.”
T | Words: 26,088 | Chapters: 2/2
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See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World
No Archive Warnings Apply, Jonathan Sims & Simon Fairchild, Jonathan Sims & Michael "Mike" Crew, Jonathan Sims & Gerard Keay, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims/Oliver Banks
When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.
T | Words: 59,336 | Chapters: 7/7
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rituals by doomcountry
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.
T | Words: 8,492 | Chapters: 1/1
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ships passing in the night by Zykaben
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Tim meets and befriends the new professor on the staff, Jonathan Sim. Tim has also been casual friends with Martin Blackwood for the past year.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for Tim to realize that the two of them are married to each other.
T | Words: 5,027 | Chapters: 1/1
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all the flowers of all the tomorrows by ivelostmyspectacles
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Georgie Barker & Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims
Martin owns a flower shop.
He starts crushing on the guy from the Magnus Institute, but why does Jon keep needing so many flowers for workplace deaths, anyway??
T | Words: 13,745 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Good Ol' Days by SingingInTheRaiin
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
When Jon moves in with his grandmother he becomes fast (if somewhat reluctant) friends with one of the neighborhood kids, a boy named Martin.
Years later, they find each other again at the Magnus Institute, and whatever mysteries they uncover there, they will solve them together.
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T | Words: 107,489 | Chapters: 40/40
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How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Jon risks a glance over to Georgie, expecting sympathy, or perhaps a grave expression of solidarity. Instead, he’s met with a fond smile. “Oh, Jon,” she says patiently, reaching over to rub his back. “You poor thing. You’re lovesick.”
Jon recoils. “I am not,” he says accusingly.
-
A college AU in which the whole gang works at the library, Jon is emotionally repressed, and the anonymous Facebook page knows all.
Part 2 of Magnolia Verse
T | Words: 29,263 | Chapters: 1/1
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because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
"Very well then, officer, take me away. And Martin?"
"Yes, Elias?"
Elias opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again with a shake of his head.
"Actually, never mind. I will see how it plays out."
Martin let out an annoyed sigh as Elias left. Always so goddamn cryptic.
Hopefully Jon and the others would be back soon to make sense of things.
-
Here's a hypothetical question: What would happen if no one noticed that Jonathan Sims survived the Unknowing?
What if they looked at his stopped heart and still lungs and decided he was dead?
What happens when you bury an Archivist?
T | Words: 9,491 | Chapters: 5/5
Gerrymichael
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Echo Chamber by orphan_account
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
“Look, if you’re another, uh, avatar of a horrible eldritch demon god come to assassinate me in a spooky manner, could you get it over with quickly? I haven’t eaten all morning and I’m starving.”
The thing that calls itself Michael stares.
“And this sandwich cost most of my weekly salary,” Gerry adds after a belated moment.
Part 1 of Spirals and Eyes
T | Words: 21,439 | Chapters: 1/1
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Break Me Like A Pattern by TheLibraryBat
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay & Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay & Gertrude Robinson, Gertrude Robinson & Michael Shelley
The year is 2011. Michael Shelley is living his life in circles, blissfully unaware of the betrayal that awaits him in the summer. Gertrude Robinson has plans to enact and plans to destroy. Emma Harvey is hiding a book in the dark place at the back of a cupboard.
When Gerard Keay walks into the Magnus Institute - two years sooner than he was meant to - everything changes.
This is an (eventual) Archivist Michael AU, exploring how certain events might have played out, had one key player been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Part 1 of Archivist Michael AU
M | Words: 215,290 | Chapters: 40/40
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Choke Chain by dramatispersonae
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/The Distortion
Things Gertrude Robinson possesses: decades of experience killing, containing, and otherwise thwarting supernatural beings, an uncompromising drive to destroy the Rituals and the people who would see them completed, Gerry's loyalty. Things Gertrude Robinson apparently also possesses: a monster on a magic leash.
NR | Words: 14,814 | Chapters: 1/1
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Make Me Feel Like I'm Lost by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/MichaelGerard Keay/The Distortion
Gerry meets a door that is not a door. And a person that is not a person. Remarkably, he does not get eaten. He would probably like to keep it that way. (Or, in the process of trying to avoid death by nightmare hallway, Gerard Keay accidentally charms the nightmare hallway)
Part 1 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 11,963 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fill The Gap Between You And I by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Michael, like a cat, expresses affection with gifts of dead things. Gerry's trying not to be in the business of collecting strays.
Part 2 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 7,377 | Chapters: 1/1
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The Life Of Letting Go by dramatispersonae
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry suffers a workplace injury. Michael has concerns.
Part 3 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 3,235 | Chapters: 1/1
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Fever Dreaming by dramatispersonae
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Gerry encounters a plot by a nascent avatar of the Corruption. It should be straightforward enough to deal with, especially considering his apparently ongoing... "alliance" with Michael. But when have things in his life actually been as simple as they appear?
Part 4 of As One Door Closes
NR | Words: 42,284 | Chapters: 5/5
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Please Don’t Eat the Flowers by Sloane
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion, Razor/Wendy, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Instead of retiring to open a book shop, Gerry ends up working at a flower shop run by American lesbians in London. This leads to a brush with the Distortion, who just wants to buy some lilies, the Magnus Institute finding out he’s still alive, and... well, a normal life was never really in the cards for the likes of Gerard Keay, was it?
Oh, and those lesbians who run the flower shop? There’s more to them than meets the eye—bad Beholding pun intended.
(No knowledge of Maniac Mansion required; I take lots of liberties to slot it into TMA’s universe. UNDER MAJOR REVISIONS. Please see last chapter if you’re a new/returning reader for details..)
M | Words: 77,314 | Chapters: 33/?
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Ode to Joy: or, michael distortion's guide to naming yourself by fromthepinnacletothepit
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Michael Shelley is sacrificed to the Spiral before he has the chance to come out, even to himself. Now, as an avatar of the Spiral, his identity is even MORE painful and confusing. Alone and filled with pain he doesn't even know how to name, he searches for acceptance in the one person who ever really knew him-Gerry Keay.
***
“What do you want to be called then,” Gerry says and wraps his arms around Michael’s back.
This conversation hurts. This question hurts. Everything hurts, so long as no one knows about his gender, so long as he has to go on being someone he’s not, someone he just can’t be anymore. He doesn’t know how much longer he can stand it.
“I dunnooooo,” he says, grinning, but inside he knows his name isn’t Michael. It’s just not. He doesn’t have a name. He never has. And it’s absence is like a hole in his chest.
The creature that might as well be called Michael, it supposes, if you have to call it anything, thinks about this conversation while it sits on the ceiling of its hallway and slowly digs grooves into the plaster with its fingers.
Gerry, it thinks desperately. I have to find Gerry.
G | Words: 14,513 | Chapters: 1/1
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Save That Heart for Me by cedarbranch
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
Gerry has just filled up his mug with coffee when it hits him. It’s a faint but sharp pain, zinging through his left wrist. He exhales a puff of laughter. That’s the third time this week. Whoever his soulmate is, they’re having a rough time.
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T | Words: 5,577 | Chapters: 1/1
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call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke
No Archive Warnings Apply, Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley, Gerard Keay/Michael
There was the matter of the owner. It could not be said that most people, when asked about their mental picture of what the owner of a bookstore should look like, would answer angry-looking goth covered in burn scars from the neck down.
He also had a terrible dye job.
Or: five times Michael went to Gerry's domain for help, and one time the opposite happened.
Part 1 of the bookstore AU
NR | Words: 4,488 | tChapters: 1/1
Other
Fic types I have not read enough of to lend it its own category. If I read more fics of its type, it'll be moved to a new category
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unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Oneshot #54: home improvement: or: Jon and Martin vs. IKEA
Oneshot #55: united front: or: Martin helps Jon with his statement hunger . (Set 159/160)
Oneshot #56: evolution: or: There is an uneasy alliance at first, between Jon and the Archivist
(Short TMA JonMartin one-shots, individual warnings in chapter notes, now with a fully-functioning contents page)
G | Words: 73,687 | Chapters: 56/56
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onto a vast plain by yewgrove
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
The world ends. They get married.
Part 2 of it is what you have.
T | Words: 10,313 | Chapters: 1/1
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Out There, Somewhere by Artyphex
No Archive Warnings Apply, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
"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.
T | Words: 54,080 | Chapters: 8/8
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enemy of my enemy by beeclaws
Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker
Jon comes back from his time with the Circus a little worse for wear. Tim has some feelings about that.
M | Words: 6,263 | Chapters: 4/4
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Updates
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a map of what matters most by gruhukens added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) by OllieoftheBeholder added to Time Travel - Mar. 8, 2024
How Particular, My Fondness of You by cedarbranch added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
call me your harbor by insertcleveracejoke added to Gerrymichael - Mar. 18, 2024
tides turning by gauras added to Scottish Safehouse Period - Mar. 18, 2024
a six-step process by bluejayblueskies added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
who's there? by bubonickitten added to England Jonmartin-centic - Mar. 18, 2024
because light reverses, because the dead return by 1248, Tiili97 added to Highly Alternate - Mar. 18, 2024
Clothes Have No Gender by kristsune added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
northwest 6 to gale 8. rain. poor, occasionally good. by chewsdaychillin added to England Jonmartin-centric - Mar. 18, 2024
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angelfoxx · 9 months
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┊ ➶ 。˚ ° “…US?”
…in which their feelings for you become apparent.
FEATURING: simon “ghost” riley, john “soap” mactavish, & keegan p russ I AM SALIVATING
WARNINGS: suggestive, but nothing nsfw. yet 😇 also so sorry i write k**gan’s name and i just get fucked up. i just can’t behave myself. so i lose my mind a little in his section eek
NOTES: excuse my rather small starting lineup; i’m still new to the game and all of its lore and i’d rather get to know the characters first rather than make horrible headcanons based off of their fanon interpretations. you know, like making a six foot ten war criminal dresses in a fucking executioner’s hood a little uwu baby
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— SIMON “GHOST” RILEY.
✧ Everything I see on TikTok regarding this guy makes him seem like a fucking demon in the sheets. I really don’t get that vibe. Especially not at the start of a relationship.
✧ The first time you meet, he thinks you’re attractive. And then he pushes that thought aside, because he’s a soldier. He’s actively at work doing a high-risk, high-stress job. You’re attractive, yes, but he’s not going to pursue you. This is not the right time for that.
✧ Things develop after…like, a long ass time. And it’s not sexual in the start. It’s, like…you’re cleaning your gun down after a mission, and you get a clean rag thrown into your lap. You look up into those hollow soulless fucking eyes and Ghost just shrugs, not meeting your gaze but instead just vaguely gesturing at your gun. “Your rag’s dirty. You’re rubbin’ dirt int’a the thing.”
✧ It’s small things like that. Things that are helpful but always laced with a comment that could be considered sort of rude or abrasive. He doesn’t notice; he only realizes that he’s coming off as rude and probably pushing you away after he makes a comment on your form being lazy and Price, sort of quietly laughing, asks why he’s so insistent on snarking on you. He replies that mistakes like yours could get you hurt. Which, they could. But so could everyone else’s, and he doesn’t make comments about them. So…?
✧ Phase two of him trying to…hit on you? Exist with you? Who fucking knows. Anyways, he just stops talking. He’ll still throw you clean rags, but he won’t make a comment about how using a dirty rag is ruining your gun. He’ll still make a point out of sweeping fallen food and shit off of your spot at the table after you eat, but he doesn’t grumble and scoff at you not to waste anymore. He resorts to silent acts of service to the point where it gets annoying. He’s always quiet, but now he’s unnervingly quiet and honestly, is it still him if he doesn’t catch you for random things every now and then?
✧ The silent stage can go on forever, so a catalyst really saves you. The catalyst comes when a new recruit gets a little too aggressive; a small argument about your ability on the field turns into a minor brawl. Aforementioned brawl immediately ends when the recruit dares to put their hands on you and shove you and Ghost, like some six-foot-one demon cast from the pits of hell, appears behind you and gets very up close and personal with them. Asking what the hell they think they’re doing, asking if they think that’s a good way to have a team on the field, et cetera, et cetera. Basically, he makes the recruit feel like absolute shit. Oh, and he doesn’t look at you the entire time.
✧ So, obviously, now you have a weird situation at hand. You’re getting ready to go to sleep and everyone’s sort of looking at you funny, because there’s no reason for a fucking lieutenant to jump in and break up an argument like that—pulling people apart, sure, but not so suddenly and not so aggressively. The recruit hasn’t spoken to you. Ghost hasn’t spoken to you. So, anyways, you pay him a visit.
✧ You go down to say thanks, and for some fucking reason, the guy can’t take a compliment. Or gratitude. He says you were slower than the other recruit, that it’ll get you killed on the field, et cetera. He can’t just shut up and take the thanks.
“I’m telling you, I…I came down here to thank you, of all things. Can you cut the criticism one time and accept it?”
Ghost stiffens. It’s not a thousand-yard stare anymore. It’s just a wide, pissed-off glare. For a long minute, he’s silent. And then…
“Welcome.” His voice is grumpish. “Happy?”
“Sure.” You manage a little smile. It’s sort of funny; he can’t just take your thank you and drop it. “It’s improvement.”
Ghost nods once, albeit stiffly. “Okay.”
“…so, you gonna tell me why you did it?” You ask it as a joke. You aren’t dumb. You know he wants you gone. You’re expecting a harsh “get out” or something of the like. You aren’t expecting an answer.
“Disrespect makes ignorance. Ignorance makes casualties.” Oh. An actual real, reasonable answer. Surprising. Ghost himself seems a little surprised; he blinks owlishly again, and he doesn’t say anything else. He’s just a big guy standing in a little room with a skull mask on.
“Oh.” You swallow. “That’s…rational.”
“Were you expecting irrational?”
“No. I wasn’t expecting anything.” You scoff. “You’re not exactly chatty.”
“I don’t waste words.” Ghost’s eyes narrow. “I’m not dumb.”
“I didn’t call you dumb.” You shrug. “I’m just surprised you gave me an answer that wasn’t bitching at me.”
“I don’t bitch.”
“You do.”
“I’m not a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl, recruit. I don’t bitch.”
“Even Price thinks you bitch. At me, at least. All the time.”
✧ Price thinks he bitches at you? And he’d told you? Oh, no, no. Externally, Ghost is stiff and stoic. Internally, Ghost is shitting bricks. Price had told you that? Straight-up told you that? Oh, no. You and Price talk and he comes up in conversation? Oh, no, no, no.
✧ He addresses this with Price, obviously. Storms in all puffed-out and pissy and asks what the hell he’s doing gossiping about his soldiers and Price just sort of laughs him off, asking what he’s talking about and then why he’s so upset that he’s bringing up one of his best men to one of the recruits.
✧ Oh.
✧ Ghost swears up and down it’s not like that. He swears and he bangs the side of his hand on the table and he curses on his own heart that it’s not like that but the whole time Price is laughing because in all of the years that he’s known Simon, not once has Simon broken through Ghost. But now, he has. The stumbling over words, the defensive aggression, the way he’s pacing so furiously—oh, Simon Riley is melting down inside that big mask and it’s equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious.
✧ Cue Price becoming a wingman. Ghost swears he’ll kill him every time he puts you two together to spar or puts you two on cleanup duty or god fucking forbid you’re in the doghouse doing some foul task and Ghost has to watch you. God fucking damn the captain, because he knows Ghost will grumble and complain but with you, he’ll eventually stop that in favor of helping you. And it’s sort of heartwarming for him to do his nightly rounds and it’s all quiet but there’s voices coming out of the kitchen and he can hear Ghost in that gruff, grumbly tone telling you how to mop and you snidely telling him that if you can’t do it right, then maybe he should do it instead. And he objects, of course, and then within ten minutes Price watches Ghost’s shadow come up to yours and he hears the mop change hands.
✧ It takes you a long time to realize that you’re really being assigned to Ghost’s side for every fucking thing you do. It takes you an even longer time to realize that Price tends to pass by you two on occasion, and every time he does, he’s smiling. And it takes you a ridiculously long time to realize that Ghost isn’t always radiating heat; whenever he takes the mop from you or takes the gun you’re cleaning from you, whenever he finishes off a task that you’ve started, it’s not that he’s always that hot. It’s that, under that mask, he’s flushed.
✧ It takes you a very, very long time to realize that the legendary Ghost has taken an actual liking to you.
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— JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH.
✧ Thank fucking god this guy is next. Slow burn ass Ghost makes me want to rip my eyes out. Just have passionate angry sex and talk about your feelings after. Christ.
✧ It’s not exactly a secret that the minute you arrived on base, you gained an admirer.
✧ Soap isn’t someone who rarely gets hooked on someone else. The guy’s a walking heart eyes emoji. The difference with you was that it wasn’t the kind of attraction that had him sweet-talking you over drinks that night.
✧ This was different. Rather than chase, Soap wanted to impress — and, well, he tried. He tried his fucking hardest. He tried so hard the other higher-ups noticed. How embarrassing.
✧ Every time you’re in the room, he somehow gets even chattier. His voice drops. If he’s working out, he starts loading weights onto the bar he’s using to an almost comical degree. He loses his fucking mind. It’s like he short circuits. Which is ridiculous, because he’s a fucking soldier. What the fuck is he doing trying to lift five hundred pounds on a Tuesday morning? Why is he freaking the fuck out?
✧ The thing is, right, is you’re not exactly hovering over the guy. You have your own agenda to adhere to and also, it would be really weird if you just started laying praises on him, so you go about your day as regular and poor Soap is left heartbroken and also achy-armed because you literally could not care less that he’s lifting double, triple his body weight.
✧ Literally every higher-up notices. They make jokes about it and he borders on threatening friendly fire. It’s just a little crush. That’s all it is. Yeah. And so when you’re all doing team sparring and you keep winning, he’s just watching you like a lovesick puppy because it’s just a little crush. That’s all.
✧ Price can’t have his soldiers slacking off. Of course not. He can’t have them getting lazy — so he orders Soap to go up against you. Because, you know, he seems out of it and you’re the best of the recruits, so you’ll go against someone better. Yeah. That’s why he calls him out.
✧ God bless the poor guy. He panics for like three seconds and then makes a very thickly-accented taunt about how it’s unfair to you to go up against him. You, of course, in the spirit of good fun, reply to his taunt and tell him to prove it.
✧ He goes into the circle with you. He goes into the circle with you and he fucking falls apart.
You’ve quickly learned that talking is Soap’s weakness. If his mouth is moving, his feet fall behind.
“Get enough sleep last night, MacTavish?” You dodge a flying fist. “You look a little sleepy.”
“Got plenty.” A wry grin crosses his face. “Don’t worry about my beauty sleep.”
“I have reason to. You need it.” You wrinkle your nose. “Bad.”
Soap’s jaw drops slightly, and — there! — he hesitates. Probably out of surprise, but it’s enough. Deftly, you lunge in at his knees, swipe them out, and…hm. Simple. Almost too easy, actually, to pin him.
Soap’s heart is pounding under your hand. His chest is flat against the ground, but you can feel it through his back, which is wild in and of itself. He grunts when his cheek hits the ground; he mumbles something akin to “bloody hell”, but you can’t quite make out the words.
Grinning, you sit back and kick your heel up against his neck, keeping his head pinned down. The cheering you receive mostly comes from recruits who are impressed with your skill.
The minority is higher-ups, exchanging amused glances. They seem awfully humored with the sight of one of their own being pinned so easily by a new recruit. Hmm…
✧ From that point on, Soap somehow manages to watch more of your sparring sessions. He usually just watches, rather than critique; if you ask, he’ll just say you certainly seem to be doing fine. If you ask for help, though, he’ll help you. Christ, he’ll help you. He’ll genuinely spend time assisting you on whatever is troubling you.
✧ Eventually, after a long training day, you decide to ask Soap to join you in the ring. You genuinely just want to see how you stack up to a “better” opponent; you’ve apparently pushed beating him to the side. Or you just want to do it again. He doesn’t think of that, though.
✧ He’ll come in (after teasing you just a bit) and he will spar with you, just giving you advice and pointers mid-action. He’s whipped, but he’s also still a trained soldier. He knows what he’s doing, and once he gets through the brain fog you seem to weigh down onto him, he is genuinely helpful.
✧ Still, after you’re both hot and panting and finished and resting on the sidelines, you have to ask him why he helps you so much. You have to ask if it’s because he thinks you’re lacking, or bad, or if it’s some sort of personal vendetta for that one time in front of the recruits and the higher-ups.
✧ Soap just laughs and, rather awkwardly, rubs at his neck. He avoids eye contact, and he bites his lip, and he tilts his head around before he dares answer you, tone sheepish. “Consider it a, ah, personal interest.”
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— KEEGAN P RUSS.
✧ SHITS MYSELF VIOLENTLY. SO SORRY
✧ i love this fucking man so very much and i don’t know jack shit abt him because i need to play ghosts and get the first hand experience like I don’t want to spoil his character but I URRRGHHGGGGG
✧ imma try to do him justice but sorry if im missing on important lore
✧ He’s not as uptight as Ghost, but he’s not as whipped as Soap. He’s somewhere in the middle; he’s aware that you’re attractive but he does push it aside. He’s working. You’re working. He doesn’t have time for that, and it’s also a safety concern. He remembers what they did to Ajax, and god fucking forbid they try to pull that shit with anyone else to use as bait.
✧ When he’s at base, he’s busy. He’s devoted to his work and he doesn’t cut corners to chit-chat. The most social he’ll really get is at dinner; he’s the kind of person who will eat with the group, but rather than talk, he’ll really just listen. he’s me fr fr
✧ Getting to know Keegan is sort of awkward because he’s just not super outgoing. He’s attractive (if your radio is on and you don’t buckle at the knees the first time you hear his sexy deep pantywetting voice over the thing, are you even real?) and he’s got the whole mysterious quiet guy thing down, and yet when you approach him to try and strike up a conversation with a simple question (“So how was your day?”) he’s prone to just looking at you and raising a brow and answering sort of flatly. (“Same as every other one. What, did something happen?”)
✧ Most of your bonding actually occurs when it’s just the two of you. You’ve bumped into him late at night before — sometimes he’s at the range shooting targets and fiddling with a variety of weapons, or sometimes he’s in the kitchen scouring the shelves, or sometimes he’s in the gym working out when nobody is there to bother him and ogle his fine ass fucking body holy shit his thighs. He’s a little easier to talk to at night, actually. Maybe it’s the lack of a crowd, but the first time you stumble into him making himself a pot of fucking tea at damn near midnight, he actually seems friendly.
“What are you making?” For a moment, you panic, thinking that you might’ve just scared the shit out of poor Keegan by speaking so suddenly and from behind where he’s standing beside the sink, a little humming kettle in front of him. His shoulders god his fuckinf shoulders i want to lick them don’t so much as twitch, though — and then you remember the guy’s entire job is stealth and observation. Hell, he probably heard you across camp.
“Tea.” Yeah, he couldn’t sound less concerned. His voice is as low and gravelly as usual; he sounds a little more relaxed, actually, not so brash and shout-y. “Chamomile.”
“Sergeant Russ drinks chamomile tea?” You laugh a little, sort of tentatively. You two aren’t strangers, but you’ve only had a few conversations…if you can call brief exchanges conversations, of course.
“…yeah?” Keegan actually sounds confused; it’s dark in the kitchen, but you can make out the outline of his head turning over his shoulder. “What, you got a problem with that?”
“No. No, sir. No problem.” You shrug. “I just didn’t peg you to be the chamomile tea type.”
“Didn’t you?” The short scoffish bark Keegan lets out is a brief laugh. “What did you peg me for?”
“Dunno. Black, I guess.”
“Are you calling me boring?”
“No.”
Keegan hums in response to that. He busies himself with pouring his tea and thank fucking god your eyes have adjusted to the dim light in here because god, his fucking hip to waist ratio under that gear is something wicked and you let your conversation slip. You’re in here for a snack, but you don’t want to bother—
“You come in here for somethin’ other than staring?” Oh. Good. This is the Keegan you’d expected after hearing him sass half of his team on comms. You can hear the edge of a grin in his voice; there’s a shuffle as he turns around and then a wooden groan as he leans against the counter. A short second later, you hear the almost exaggerated slurp of tea.
“Crackers. I’m hungry.”
A wooden scrubbing sound. He’s moved over, presumably to let you open the cabinet housing boxes of sort of dry, not particularly good crackers. He doesn’t say a word; he just keeps drinking his tea and pretends to ignore you as you make your way over, crouching down to fumble for a bag of crackers. Pretend, because you can feel that he’s watching you. His presence on the field is invisible; his gaze in the kitchen is not. Still, he doesn’t bother you; he lets you get your crackers and retire to the edge of the counter across from him to snack, and he doesn’t say a word.
“Are you always so quiet?” You gesture vaguely at the slight shape of him. “Is it just part of the job?”
Keegan laughs, more to himself than in response to you. “Sure.”
✧ He is, generally, pretty quiet. His usual demeanor is laid-back and observant; if he’s not under stress, though, and you start talking to him, he’ll respond almost always with something mildly sarcastic. You come to learn that he isn’t actually boring. He’s got a quick sense of occasionally-dark humor. Sometimes he laughs at his own jokes—usually after he’s started to walk away from you. He’s fiercely protective of the Ghosts and any recruits training near or with them. He also doesn’t seem to mind you.
✧ You’d hesitate to say you two were friends — it always seemed like there was something in between you, though you couldn’t name what — but you were friendly, and it was nice.
✧ During group dinners, he’d stand against the wall behind you. Or across from you, though usually doing that meant that he’d make a game out of trying to get you to squirm under his constant staring. He’d run into you late-night in the kitchen and make casual, not uncomfortable, small talk. Hell, at one point he offered you a drink post-training and made a sort of point to always offer you one whenever you had returned to base and were lingering around in the later hours.
✧ After a particularly long day, you find him in the kitchen, just drinking straight from the bottle. He offers you the thing — he seems more than a little tipsy, but when you decline (he’s been drinking directly from it, and…the fuck does army hygiene look like?) he sort of half-laughs and says, sarcastically, “What d’you look so horrified for? Too good to share a bottle, princess?” and then he immediately excused himself afterward.
✧ You know that saying, “drunk words are sober thoughts”? Yeah. Yeah.
✧ i need the fatty part of keegans thigh in my mouth right now i need to bite it i need to bite it and go rrrrrahrhrahrah like a fucking rabid dog
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celandeline · 28 days
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Hiiii bestie, can we get an angry Carl x reader, leading to smut
Yes we can!
Make It Up To You
Carl Grimes X Reader (SMUT), oneshot
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“What the hell were you thinking?” 
You’ve never seen Carl this mad before. Sure, you’ve seen him get mad - pissed off, sulky, more snappy than usual - but you’ve never seen this. This is something else. This has his eye brimming with rage, and an ugly curl to his lips, like he’s getting ready to spit venom. 
“Anyone would have done the same!” You shoot back, brows furrowed. You don’t really understand why he’s mad at you. Going back into the department store after a bunch of walkers broke in wasn’t the smartest thing you could have done, sure, but you weren’t just going to leave Tara behind. Not when she’s saved your ass before. And you’re fine - a little scratched up from climbing through that broken window, but that's it - no bites, nothing serious. 
“It was stupid, and risky, and you could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Carl spits. 
Now you’re starting to get mad too - you’re tired, you haven’t really even gotten a chance to sit down since you and the rest of your run group got back, and now Carl’s in your face, almost shouting at you. “What happened to ‘we don’t leave anyone behind’?” You shoot back. “You’re saying I should have just left her there?”
“No! I’m just saying, instead of running in by yourself, you could have gone back in with the rest of the group. You know it’s stupid to go anywhere on your own, you could have at least asked someone to watch your back, or draw some of them away or something.” He says. 
“Sorry - there wasn’t a whole lot of time to draw up a plan before she would’ve gotten eaten.” You snark back at him. “And, in case you haven’t noticed,” You gesture down to the rest of yourself. “I’m perfectly fine. I can handle myself.”
“Couldn’t handle asking for backup, apparently.” He says, icy blue gaze boring into you. 
“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. “It’s fine - I’m fine, Tara’s fine, everyone got back safe. Yes, I could have died, I know, I don’t need you lecturing me about the risks-”
“Maybe you do, ‘cause it seems like you forgot-” He cuts you off. 
“Fuck off.” You spit, turning around to head back to your house. You don’t need this right now - you just got back from risking your ass to get supplies for the town, and yeah, there were a couple really close calls when you went back in to save Tara. All you wanted to do was go home, take a shower, get a fresh change of clothes. But instead, you got an angry Carl Grimes trying to lecture you about shit you already know. You don’t even know why he cares so much - sure, you’re friends, but the way he was so angry-
“Where are you going?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of him following you, and don’t bother to turn around to look at him. “Home.”
He falls into step beside you, still glaring at you from under the rim of his hat. “You can’t just walk away in the middle of a conversation-”
“Didn’t feel like a conversation to me.” You interrupt him. “Felt like you were just shouting at me about how stupid I am.” 
“I didn’t-” He starts. “That’s not- I wasn’t trying to say that you’re dumb-”
“Well, you did. Quite a few times, actually.” You cut him off, heading up the steps to your porch. You turn around to face him once you get to the door. “Look, Carl, I’m really not in the mood to keep doing this right now-”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.” He says, the anger in his voice turning into urgency. “And I’m not trying to say that you’re weak or can’t handle yourself, or that you shouldn’t have gone back to save Tara, but it was risky. Too risky, and it didn’t have to be, and if it had gone bad, I don’t-” His voice cracks, and he stops himself. 
You wait for a moment for him to continue, and when he doesn’t, you roll your eyes. “Careful,” You snark. “It almost sounded like you were going to say something nice about me. If you’re done, I’m gonna go shower-”
His lips are on yours before you can really realize what’s happening, and on instinct you pull away. “Carl.” You say, brow furrowed as you look him in the eye, searching for… something, to explain what the fuck is going on. 
“If you died, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He says, lips only an inch away from yours. All the anger in him has turned into pleading, his eyes wide, searching your gaze the same as you search his. 
“So, what, you shout at me the moment I get home?” You ask. 
“I’m sorry.” He says. “Really. I just- I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. Please.”
-
Most of the time, you find the extravagance of the houses in Alexandria a little annoying. It only serves as a reminder to before, how your mom used to cut out pictures of places like this to scrapbook into her future plans journal. It only serves as a reminder to how much your dad would grumble about ‘rich people shit’ when he got home from the construction site. 
Now though, you find yourself a little grateful for the heated flooring in the ensuite master bathroom, and the spacious glass shower. The glass is almost completely covered with steam from the hot water cascading out of the showerhead, and you can only see the faintest reflection of yourself, back against the tile as Carl fucks you.  
He’s propped up above you, watching you reverently as his hair drips water onto your cheeks. You keep running your hands through the wet strands, trailing your fingernails across the nape of his neck to make him shiver, despite the heat of the shower. 
“Fuck.” He gasps, dropping down to press his chest against yours and tuck his head into the crook of your neck. 
“Mmm.” You return, taking the opportunity to mouth at the side of his neck, gently sinking your teeth into the skin there. He moans again, and his hips stutter against yours, briefly losing his rhythm before regaining it. You trail your lips upward to bite at the lobe of his ear, and grin when he falters again. 
“Stop doing that.” He pants, pulling his head out of the crook of your neck to look down at you again. 
“Why?” You ask, winding your arms around his shoulders to tug him down for a quick kiss. “I can tell you like it-”
“I’m supposed to be the one - mm, fuck - making it up to you, not the other way around.” He says. 
“You already picked - ah - all of the walker guts out of my hair, I think your debt is paid.”
He shakes his head, little droplets of water flying out of his hair. “Not until I make you cum.”
He throws himself back into fucking you with his full focus, burying his head back into the crook of your neck to mouth at your collarbones, panting heavy against your skin. You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the ride. It’s good - surprisingly. He’s done this before, you think - Enid, probably - enough times to know what works and what doesn’t, and if he keeps going at the rate he is, he might actually get you to finish without you having to help him along. 
“You’re so pretty.” He says, breathy against your skin. 
You open your eyes again, and run a hand up his spine, causing him to arch into you. “You should’ve just - fuck,” You gasp at a particularly hard thrust. “Told me you liked me.”
“Probably.” He agrees. “Didn’t - mm - want you to say no though.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious I wouldn’t have.” You breathe, winding a hand into his hair again, holding him against you as the coil in your stomach tightens. 
“How was I supposed to, ah, know?” He asks, lifting his head out of your neck.
“Could’ve asked-” You tip your head back against the tile as you feel yourself nearing the edge. “Fuck, Carl-”
He groans, low in the base of his throat, and speeds up his thrusts, snapping his hips against yours. “Please,” He moans. “Please, please-”
You sigh as you cum, and pull him down against you. You’re more relaxed than you’ve ever been as you come down, between the sex and the heat of the shower around you. Carl doesn’t take too long to follow, letting out a few more hiccuping moans before he pulls out, shooting his cum onto the floor of the shower. You watch it get carried away down the drain as you catch your breath. 
Carl plops himself down on the floor of the shower next to you with a satisfied smile. “Good?”
“Very.” You agree, pulling yourself up from where you were sprawled on the floor.
A moment passes between you, the only sound is that of the shower water hitting the tile, and you take a minute to just look at him, taking in just how pretty he is. 
“Sorry again.” He says, breaking the silence. “For yelling at you. And, um, not telling you that I liked you.”
“S’okay.” You say, because it is. “We got there, eventually.”
He laughs a little. “Yeah.”
You grin at him. “We’re going to have to clean off again.”
“That’s alright with me.” He says, returning your smile.
194 notes · View notes
I just read the article you posted a while back about TB (heads up- it said the gift article link has lapsed or some such). Did J&J ‘evergreen’ (be allowed to be evil) or was it allowed to become generic?
Relatedly, how do you manage empathy fatigue? I deal with OCD too and it screams at me that I have to care about and do all the things all at once. How do you choose where to put your time and energy?
(Also, when I get the coffee subscription for my husband’s birthday, which version should I get?)
For me empathy fatigue sets in when I careen my attention from this crisis to that one to the next one to the one after that, always feeling overwhelmed by each emerging problem but never having the time or attention to devote myself to one problem or another.
I'll give you an example. In 2014, a horrific ebola epidemic swept through Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. The world paid attention to it. Everyone was talking about it. And then .... it ended. At least in the global imagination. Money dried up. The world moved on to the next crisis.
That's not to say the next crisis wasn't important. It was important. But in Sierra Leone, the ebola crisis wasn't really over even after people stopped contracting ebola. 15% of Sierra Leone's healthcare workers had been killed by ebola, and the already fragile healthcare system plummeted into what one Sierra Leonean physician described to me as "a state of collapse."
And so the crisis remained a crisis even after the world's attention shifted. 1 in 17 women in Sierra Leone were dying in childbirth. Over 10% of kids born died before the age of five. Tuberculosis killed thousands every year despite curative treatment being available.
And this is when Hank and I finally, belatedly realized that responding to crises in the news was not adequate. Instead, we would need to commit the kind of long-term attention and long-term support that long-term crises demand. This means making difficult choices--there is also high maternal and child mortality in countries other than Sierra Leone, but we choose to focus on Sierra Leone because we see an opportunity to make a difference, because the government is serious if limited in its commitment to improving healthcare and educational opportunities, and because we had to make a choice or else we would be overwhelmed by the many causes.
What about the other causes? Well, we trust people to work on those causes. We believe in their importance. And we support their work by doing ours as well as we can, and trusting they are doing theirs as well as they can. I still get overwhelmed. I still get depressed. But I find that the deeper I go into my particular areas of interest--global healthcare delivery, health care accessibility, ending TB, fighting maternal mortality--the better I feel personally, and the more good I feel like I'm able to do.
2. Johnson & Johnson has not abandoned their secondary patents on bedaquiline but they have committed to allow generics to be available in most countries, even those where the secondary patents apply. Unfortunately this deal leaves out many countries that need generic bedaquiline, including Ukraine, which is absolutely unacceptable. So progress has been made, but the progress (as is so often the case) is inadequate. The fight goes on.
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saminthea · 2 years
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Anyone else completely obsessed with the new Enola Holmes movie? Like I was fully expecting a fun, pseudo historic pop feminist romp and instead I got...
"Hey big companies are corrupt and *will* straight up kill people for profit. And also the system is really ill equipped to deal with that kind of corruption, the best and often only way to instill change is through worker's collective action."
Which is like. Good soup!
On top of that the Holmes' mom is part of a group that destroys property in protest for women's rights, and it's treated like, morally quirky at worst? Most media with these types of characters pull the "you're just as bad as your oppressors for resorting to violence" bs. But here it's just "yeah, that's Mom lol!"
Also basic no think bonus points for actually including dark skinned black women. Lots of modern 'diverse' historical fiction has a lot of trouble with that.
Also can I just gush about how much I *adore* this iteration of Moriarty? She's so well portrayed with that perfect "smarter than everyone in this room, life's a game, let's play" vibe. She's suave and soft spoken and so obviously delighted by having found a 'worthy' opponent in Sherlock. I can't wait to see her again.
Also it might be the lingering middle school Sherlock fangirl in me but when they introduced Dr. John Watson I just about *screamed*.
Overall, A+ movie. Thoroughly enjoyed myself and I didn't even have to turn my brain off to do it.
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Emma To Bruce
Dear Bruce,
We did it! The curse is broken! Rupert is free! Long live Rupert!
In retrospect, it’s insane how much of this we tried to do by ourselves. We should have known that when we finally succeeded we would do it with a whole team present—in this case Jem, Tessa, Kit, and Magnus. (Mina assisted by raising morale and drawing all over everything with her toy stele.)
Everyone’s still here, too, and we can relax a little in a newly uncursed house. (It really is quite homey, now that it’s been cleaned up and, you know, had its demonic aura dispelled.) Everyone except Magnus, who left this afternoon in a great rush to get back to New York.
New paragraph to talk about this, actually, because I have a lot of questions that don’t have answers and I can only ask you, Bruce. So Magnus was in a hurry to get back because of a meeting Alec is holding with Luke and some other Downworlders about plans for negotiating with the Cohort. Okay, but I feel like the Cohort doesn’t have much leverage, right? The situation is way worse for them than for us. We should be able to wait them out—shouldn’t we?
I mean they have a symbolic advantage, I guess. We’re all Shadowhunters and we all miss Idris and Alicante and Lake Lyn and probably a lot of us left stuff there we can’t get back and oh right, also a lot of people lived there who have had to evacuate all over the world and want to get back. I get that. But, like…what are the Cohort even eating in there? Idris doesn’t really grow food. Are they all homesteading in there? Raising crops? Churning butter? It’s kind of hard to imagine Zara doing any of that. But you never know. I mean, there aren’t even any demons to fight in there. Which is a good reminder that Shadowhunters are definitely not meant to hole up in Idris where there’s no demons for them to fight. I feel like Raziel was pretty clear on that point.
They must be losing their minds in there. I hope they found some board games or something.
Maybe Zara has declared herself Queen for Life and she doesn’t have to farm because she just marches around threatening to kill anybody who doesn’t grow her a potato right this instant.
Or maybe we haven’t heard anything because they all ate each other in there. Or maybe they mutinied against Zara and someone else gets to threaten to kill people now.
Okay, end of pondering the Cohort. I’m in a good mood, or was before I started this entry, anyway. We’ve been hanging out with Jem and Tessa and Kit and it’s really great. We ordered in Chinese (delivery couriers are always a bit terrified to come up the driveway, but we tip them like crazy so they’ve started to know us while we’ve been here). We lit candles—for ambience instead of for dark magic, what an idea!—and ate dumplings until we were too full to move, a thing I haven’t done since Magnus and Alec’s wedding. Apparently if I am offered dumplings, I will eat them until I become a dumpling myself. To that I say: I would never reject becoming that which I love most.
Anyway. Even Kit was less broody than usual tonight! He was hanging out with Round Tom and they seemed to be getting on okay. Oh, and I almost forgot! How could I forget! The workers found a coffin buried in the garden. But there was not a horrifying dead body inside, but rather a bunch of old stuff! Using a coffin as a time capsule seemed like a weird choice to me, but Tessa and Jem made some faces and some noises that suggested there was a long-ish story there we’ll have to ask about later.
Anyway, in the coffin was A SCABBARD FOR CORTANA. I mean, right? Can you believe it? Tessa said it used to belong to Cordelia Carstairs, who was Cortana’s wielder generations ago. The scabbard needs a lot of cleaning (a lot of cleaning) but then it can be reunited with Cortana. (After all, I think it’s probably more Cortana’s possession than anyone else’s; perhaps they’ll be happy to be reunited.)
There was also a sword for Julian—what used to be a Blackthorn family sword, but this one is only a hilt, its blade is totally missing, I have no idea why. He’s talking about getting it reforged. Big shock, Round Tom knows a guy. Triangular Jerry. No, I’m kidding on the name, but Round Tom actually does know a blacksmith and he and Julian have started talking about getting that done. (Actually, what Round Tom wants to do is have a forge installed at Chiswick, which is a cool idea, but do we want another building project on top of all the others? I mean, maybe, having a forge here at the house would be pretty cool.)
Oh, you might be wondering about Rupert’s ring, since it’s not like he could take it with him, and he hasn’t come back for it in a ghost way. Magnus checked it out and said no magic any more, just an ordinary ring Tatiana must have enchanted to bind Rupert. But none of us is going to wear it, of course. So we put it on the mantelpiece in the drawing room. Where it will remain.
The Gray-Carstairs-Herondaleses are heading back to Cirenworth tomorrow. It’s been really great having them here, but you know, it will be nice to have them go and have it be just Julian and I here in the house, not feeling creepy all the time. That seems like good times for us.
#
Bruce, good times are canceled. Everything’s gone wrong. I guess I was a little too smug about how everything was going; the universe had to come and screw it up for me.
Mina is gone.
And by gone I mean kidnapped.
And by kidnapped I mean, the kidnapper left a creepy old-timey porcelain doll (with wide, dead eyes, ugh) in her place, and a note.
I had just finished writing the above stuff when I heard a horrible scream from upstairs and loud footsteps, and came out to find everyone gathered in Mina’s room staring in horror.
I immediately thought oh no, another curse, or the same curse, the curse isn’t over, and maybe you did too, but that’s not what this is. This is something else entirely. Something involving faeries. Something involving Faerie.
Tessa picked up the note, read it, and handed it to Jem with a bad look on her face. Julian was already opening the window to see if anyone could be spotted outside, and I read over Jem’s shoulder:
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awoogayanderes · 9 months
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a letter from the dead
➪ sypnosis : a simple letter
➪ pairing : beast ! dazai x reader
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dear y/n,
i’m sorry i didn’t tell you what happened the night i went to bar lupin for the final time. you would have convinced me to not kill myself and i would have listened. you are the only person to see the lone parts of myself, the ones I hoped no one would be able to see.
there were many nights were i wanted to put a bullet through your head and kill you because loving you was something i didn’t deserve. it was something so sacred i couldn’t ruin, and yet i never brought myself to kill you. it was the look on your face, it was always so peaceful, so gentle. i became selfish instead.
i forced you to choose me over everyone else, i forced you to pledge your loyalty to me despite knowing you were already loyal. you tore down my walls and always held me tight every single night no matter the circumstance. your embrace is something i will miss in the afterlife, whether it be purgatory, hell, or maybe an abyss of darkness.
i don’t think i ever want you to move on, but i don’t want you to grieve me. you always said i was a confusing man, in a way, you were always right. i’m confused myself, i didn’t think i’d be writing anything like this, but i can’t allow casualties i care about go on.
this is the only place where you and him can exist and live on. please forgive me, for everything, i never meant to hurt you. don’t try to kill yourself just to see me, if i wanted that i would have made you commit double suicide with me. so please, keep living, i’ll rest calmly and quietly in your soul.
I love you.
sincerely, osamu dazai, your husband
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emmettworld · 2 months
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hello, my beloved whump community. this is Emmett. but you probably know me better as this blog:
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or you may remember the blog before that:
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you may have even been here since this blog:
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...i'm not taking you farther than that. xD
my account was terminated without any warning today. March 25, 2024. all of my blogs are gone and i have lost everything i have on them. you won't even be able to see any comments or reblogs for me on any of your posts.
if you have commissioned me over Tumblr DMs and not Discord, please contact me here. i did not have a copy of my commission list saved. i do not know who hasn't paid and who already has. i do not remember who was on the list. i do not want anyone to be cheated out of their money.
i have no idea why this happened. i was not doing anything that could justify my account being terminated with no warning or explanation. i'm so paranoid about it that i won't even type the blog names; that's why they're images instead.
but at this point, most of you know the type of whump creator i am. one who creates whatever he wants, no matter how disturbing or explicit it may be. one who loves creating whump and content in general of the Not Safe For This Website kind.
getting one of my blogs flagged, and now losing everything, is not going to stop me. i'm not going anywhere. but i am going to be changing my approach to posting content.
this is my Language Key. i will be using a system of emojis for tagging instead of words, so please read this before you go on my blog and know which tags you need to block.
if you need to block my blog for any reason, go ahead. i don't want to disturb anyone by showing up in the tags.
all of my artwork that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked to an external storage website, MEGA. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no cropped previews unless they are 100% Safe For This Website.
all of my writing that is Not Safe For This Website will be linked directly to where i post it on my AO3. it is completely free to view and you do not need an account. there will be no writing put under a read more unless it is 100% Safe For This Website.
trust me, i'll have a better pinned post up at some point explaining who i am and my multiverse of AUs, series, and OCs, and links to my commission page, and my Ko-Fi...and i'll do my best to finish the masterlists and, once again, build myself up from the ground up...
but i'm exhausted. i never saw this coming, and it's made me realize just how unsafe i am. i lost so much content that was only posted on Tumblr and not saved anywhere else.
believe me when i say that i am fucking devastated.
but i'm not going anywhere. i will die with this site when it eventually goes down, and not because it tried to kill me.
that being said, you can find me here on Cohost, which is where i'll migrate to when this place dies or where i'll communicate if i happen to get IP address banned (probably without warning) or something that prevents me from coming back.
if you don't want to refollow me here, i totally understand. i can't say how grateful i am to everyone who does, but like...i get it. it's tedious having to refollow me all the time, never knowing when a blog (or full ass account) is going to suddenly disappear. if you want to get off this crazy, unpredictable ride now, i don't blame you.
and if you decide to stick around, for however long, thank you. this day has been one of my worst nightmares and i don't think i would be handling this with nearly as much grace if it were not for my friends and everyone on my Discord server (which, by the way, is the only safe place where i share everything uncensored).
they were my first line of communication. they helped me get the word out. they rallied for me and kept me from having one massive breakdown over this, so my heartfelt thanks go out to them.
i'm using the whump community tags in hopes that more people will see this. i had hundreds of followers on my last blog, more than a thousand on the blog before that...i know this isn't going to reach everyone, but i hope it will reach some people.
thank you so much for reblogging this to help spread the word if you do. and thank you for reading. ❤️
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ventismacchiato · 1 year
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16 behind the lens — chat going crazy !
scaramouche x g!n reader
˗ˏˋ scara point of view ´ˎ˗
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“Welcome everyone,” Scara greeted as he pulled up the game lobby, and as usual, he was the only one ready, “Why are all these fuckers late?”
“Let’s all agree not to snitch on me this time,” he mutters, “Last time you guys snuck into Albedo’s chat and told him to vote for me,” he continues as he adjusts his camera. He’d put more effort into his outfit that day for a certain someone, causing him to start later than usual.
xingyunclouds donated $15
so tell us about this y/n?? 😏
A small smile crept onto his face at the mention of y/n, much to his dismay, which didn’t go unnoticed by the chat.
“Don’t embarrass me tonight. They said they’re watching this stream,” he grumbles, stifling his emotions as he busies himself with decorating his character, “Also, it’s none of your goddamn business.”
ventismacchiato donated $20
HE'S BLUSHING CAUGHT IN 4K
“Everyone here?” Tighnari calls out. They were all streaming from their respective rooms in the house.
“Guys, should I leave the cheese hat on or not?” Childe asks instead of answering, his voice in Scara’s ear as he ran around the lobby.
“Just start it,” Heizou says, and Scara could hear the smug grin on his face, “You guys are going to lose anyway.”
“Play nice, Heizou,” Kazuha reprimands as the game starts to load.
“You know he’s ruthless,” Star answers, and Scara gets a tight feeling in his stomach. It’s been a year since he’s heard Star’s voice properly, but instead of how it usually unsettled him it felt oddly familiar. Perhaps he was tired.
“Shut up,” Scara remarks, ridding himself of those thoughts.
“Make me,” Star easily responds, which makes Scara pause and everyone else crack up.
“The fuck,” he mutters, “Y/N isn’t going to like that.”
“Get ready to listen to them fight the entire game,” Venti sings.
“Everyone mute until voting,” Tighnari instructs as the game loads.
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“I swear to the archons if I’m imposters with Childe again I’m killing myself,” Scara complains as he mutes himself from the main chat, knowing Childe would start defending himself if he heard Scara’s comment, “He’s always been shit at lying. One time he ate the cake I baked for Y/N and lied to me about it with frosting smeared on his cheeks.”
The screen on his computer loads and instantly his chat is flooded with laughter as he and Star’s characters appear under the screen as the imposters for that round.
frzenhans donated $420
THEY ARE NOT GONNA GET ANYTHING DONE LMAO
“I take it back, I’d rather have Childe,” he mutters, joining a private call with Star.
“Hey partner,” Star calls out, laughing in his ear. It tickled his nerves.
“Shut up,” he says on instinct, “Do not be the cause of my first loss.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Star chuckles as they load in, “Who should we kill first?”
Scara trails behind Venti in the game, “Wait until two of them are together so we can double kill,” he offers, pretending to do tasks beside the blue character.
“I think Heizou saw me vent,” Star confesses.
“It’s been two minutes why are you this dumb?” Scara sighs as a meeting is called as expected and they all join the main chat.
Much to his surprise, Star defends themself with ease.
“I’m pretty sure Heizou vented in front of me,” Star falsely accuses, “I can’t be for sure though but he got there pretty quickly when my back was turned.”
“YOU BITCH!” Heizou yells into the mic, “You know damn well—”
“Babe,” Kazuha hums, “Deep breaths.”
“The fucking audacity,” he continues, “You’re the one who vented right in front of me!”
“Let’s just end the meeting, Heizou is trying too hard,” Scara interrupts.
“If this happens again we should vote out Heizou,” Tighnari says as the game resumes.
“I hate you all,” Heizou huffs as they all go on mute once again.
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“I’m going to kill Venti,” Star says in his ear.
“Why don’t we sabotage first and double kill?”
“But he’s literally right in front of me, I’ll let Heizou find the body,” Star adds.
“Alright,” Scara muses, tailing behind Heizou, “I’ll do tasks with him.”
He follows Heizou into the Medbay, where as expected, was Venti’s dead body.
They both join the main call and are immediately hit with accusations. None against them though.
“WHO KILLED MY VENTI,” Aether cried out.
“It can’t be Scara since he was with me,” Heizou thinks out loud, “Childe has been real silent.”
“That’s because I cannot figure out how to do shit in this game,” his best friend whines, “I would never kill Venti.”
“Can anyone back up Heizou’s location?” Star questions.
“He wasn’t with me, he’s lying,” Scara answers, his lie garnering a gasp from Heizou.
“I swear to the archons above if you guys believe him,” Heizou starts, getting riled up.
“I’m with Scara on this one,” Tighnari hums.
“No, don’t do this. Kazuha please,” Heizou wails, “You guys are making a mistake!”
“I’ll vote for Childe,” Kazuha softly laughs, not able to rid of his fondness for the other male even during a game.
“Simp,” Aether comments, “I’ll avenge you Venti.”
They all place their votes, and apart from Heizou and Kazuha, it’s unanimous.
Heizou gets voted out.
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“Why did we slay that,” Star comments, their giggles ringing in his ear once the two of them are back into their private call. He shakes the light feeling that it fills him with. Absurd.
bongohat3r donated $2
not him gaslighting
“I’ll admit we worked well together,” Scara hums, distracting himself from having Star directly in his ear by walking around the game’s floor plan.
“Why can’t you just admit we make a good pair?” Star asks, taunting him and following behind him.
“We don’t,” he sighs.
“We would make a great pair!”
“Mute yourself I’m sick of your voice,” he grumbles.
“You’re in your denial stage.”
“Enough, Y/N is watching.”
“You talk about them often,” Star muses.
“Jealous of my love life?” Scara smirks as they pull off a sabotage.
“Nothing to be jealous of,” Star huffs.
“You’re not slick.”
“I just think me and you fit better.”
“Is that the hill you want to die on? Because I can make that happen.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Star retaliates as they both walk into a room with Aether and Childe in it. Aether doing his tasks and Childe attempting to.
Words go unsaid as they silently agree to go through with a double kill, easily slicing their friends. A discussion wasn’t needed to know they should self-report. They worked too well together, it made his stomach churn.
“I literally saw Kazuha go in for the kill,” Star says as soon as the call loads, “I’m betting it’s him.”
“How could you accuse me of such a thing?” Kazuha muses and Scara can hear the smirk on his lips, “It was obviously you.”
“Well, there were two bodies so it’s Kazuha and someone else,” Tighnari comments.
“Unless he killed one then let the cooldown run and killed the other after,” Star thinks aloud, “We all know Childe still doesn’t know how the game works.”
“See, now you’re thinking too highly of me,” Kazuha laughs, “I can’t pull that off.”
“You didn’t because we’re going to vote you off,” Scara replies.
“Guys,” Kazuha starts, and it’s like Scaramouche can hear his pout, “This isn’t fair!”
“Life isn’t fair,” Tighnari says as he puts his vote in.
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The victory screen loads in and Star cheers in his ear.
“We did pretty well, didn’t we?” Star asks, eager for his approval.
“I guess we did, good job,” he muses, hoping Y/N stayed until the end to see him annihilate the others.
“Scara complimenting me?” Star sarcastically gasps, “A dream come true.”
“It’s more of a nightmare.”
“Are you insinuating you think of me while you sleep?” Star says, their voice in a low murmur in his ear. Scara finds himself swallowing and his cheeks growing warm.
“Stop being a perv,” he manages to croak out, joining the main call so he wouldn’t have to be stuck alone with Star for longer than he had to. He wasn’t flustered, just annoyed.
“I TOLD YOU GUYS,” Heizou shrieks as soon as everyone loads into the main voice call.
“I believed you,” Kazuha answers, a soft laugh escaping his lips.
“I’m so sorry, Venti,” Aether calls out, “I couldn’t avenge you bestie.”
“It’s alright, you served well,” Venti solemnly says.
“Can we go again I think I figured out the controls this time,” Childe ponders.
“I’m killing myself for getting duped by the duo who despise one another,” Tighnari sulks.
Scaramouche tunes them out as he gives his attention to his chat, which consists of them all complimenting his and Star’s skills. He tears his eyes away from it, calling back on all the out-of-character comments they made throughout the stream.
In response he opens up a new tab and pulls up Star’s stream, listening to how they were praising his skills. He hastily exits it.
“Let’s do another round,” Aether huffs, determined as a new game loads in.
Scaramouche exits his zoned-out state and gets back into his streamer personality, masking the incoming fleet of emotions.
He couldn’t help but steal a glance at his phone every now and then, expecting a certain someone to get his mind off everything.
No new notifications…
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev | next
hope u guys liked the scara pov 🤭
ik u can have ten ppl in among us but i was too lazy to edit all that and realized too late so 🤷
lmk if u see urself in the twitch chat HAHA
zhangrenlin on ig as scara
guys my among us knowledge is limited it has been years so dont come for me if i got shit wrong
author’s notes — BRO THESE EDITS TOOK FOREVER YALL DONT EVEN KNOW I DID EVERYTHING FROM SCRATCH INCLUDING THE CHARACTERS SO PLS LOOK AT THEM 😇 was rlly fun tho i was looking forward to editing this chapter the most
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @heehooyeslol @stxrgxzxr @lilneps @uma-umie @i9tto @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @orbitscara @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @satowaluverr @lexlapis @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos [1/3]
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